‘Religion In Britain: Challenges for Higher Education’ (Modood & Calhoun, 2015)

I looked at the headings ‘Multiculturalism’, ‘The ‘Vaguely Christian’ UK’, and ‘Religion and knowledge of religion in UK universities’. Below are some reflections on my reading of these articles with a bit of a jumble of learnings and provocations that I reflected upon as a whole but have divided under the three headings.

Multiculturalism

“…some pro-diversity advocates are reluctant to extend multiculturalism to include religious groups. One argument is that ‘woman’, ‘Black’ and ‘gay’ are ascribed, involuntary identities while being, say, a Muslim is about chosen beliefs, and that Muslims therefore need or ought to have less legal protection than the other kinds of identities.”

Calhoun raises the fascinating issue of choice in his essay. This interests me in terms of the direction of the individual and societal gaze in relation to identity. How one sees oneself and how society decides is the correct way to see the identities of other selves, are distinct and often opposing movements which are plural and in flux, not fixed positions. How we decide as to how society should see people works in tandem with the individual who chooses to be seen a certain way, but is also at odds with historical societal ‘norms’ that often put people, particularly older generations, in a position of trying to keep up with changes, and is inevitably wrong in certain cases of identities that choose not to be seen in the same way as that which is agreed upon. This tends to lead to further categorisations, or sub-categorisations, rather than to the appreciation of the fluid and plural nature of self. This interests me in the context of capitalism and a kind of market approach to identity. This brought to mind a passage in ‘Saint Paul, The Foundation of Universalism’ by Alan Badiou where he considers what “identitarian and communitarian categories have to do with truth procedures”. Badiou writes, “The contemporary world is thus doubly hostile to truth procedures. This hostility betrays itself though nominal occlusions: where the name of a truth procedure should obtain, another, which represses it, holds sway. The name “culture” comes to obliterate that of “art.” The word “technology” obliterates the word “science.” The word “management” obliterates the word “politics.” The word “sexuality” obliterates love.” I am very interested in exploring further the concept of capitalism within the framework of identity categories and positionality.

On the subject of agency/choice Calhoun writes, “No one chooses to be or not to be born into a Muslim family. Similarly, no one chooses to be born into a society where to look like a Muslim or to be a Muslim creates suspicion, hostility, or failure to get the job you applied for. Of course, how Muslims respond to these circumstances will vary. Some will organise resistance, while others will try to stop looking like Muslims (the equivalent of ‘passing’ for white); some will build an ideology out of their subordination, others will not, just as a woman can choose to be a feminist or not.” The question for me here is: is it a choice to identify a person as “white”, or “black”, or to decide to be identified as “white” or “black”, or a “woman”, or “gay”? Whilst the argument can obviously be made that these are empirical facts, so are many other categorical ‘attributes’ that make up a person that both self and society do not deem key identifiers (Right-handed? Brown eyes?) Again, this is for obvious historical and political reasons (and is not meant as a provocation against the recognition of these identifiers), but these reasons do not deflect from the fact that our decisions to categorise identity by these, ever increasing, group of categories, and not by others, is a choice that we all make, individually and collectively. This comes back to the question posed by Razia Aziz of ‘what is identity for?’

 

The ‘vaguely Christian’ UK

Whilst aware of the historical ‘Christian-ness’ of the UK countries, I had not fully considered the range of intersectional and prominence of certain groups within this. ‘Christian’ in my limited familial world of religious inheritance is neatly divided between Catholic and Protestant. This is probably true for many British of my generation who identify as non-religious. Other groups of the multicultural state are identified by their religious denomination (Sikh, Muslim, Hindi, Jewish, Buddhist, etc). Being a long time Hackney dweller, the visibility of Pentecostal and Evangelical communities is very apparent. However, these groups tend to be identified as ‘Black’ communities, rather than by their faith, such as their ‘Hasidic’ neighbours in Stamford Hill. I had always considered the ‘Vaguely Christian’ concept of the UK to be down to the historical attachment of the large proportion of British communities who are basically non-religious, or at least non-practicing ‘Christians’. What does this mean for our conception of faith as an identifier, and of intersectionality more general, who one identifying category so deeply overshadows another?

Religion and knowledge of religion in UK universities

“The Church of England has chaplains at nearly every English university.”

I found this fact surprising, although, upon reflection, realised that I had always noticed the presence of the chaplaincy at the universities I have either attended or worked at. Usually merely the occasional sighting of a marked door, whilst never knowing exactly who the Chaplain is or what they do. Such is the ubiquity of background Christianity in my experiences (at primary school we were all made to ‘pray’ together daily in assembly, even though the school was secular) that I think little of this and do not question it.

“Even when delivered in entirely secular ways, this is still often termed ‘pastoral care’ in UK universities; chaplains are important to it, and academics offer less than they once did.”

This quote stood out to me as reflective of my own experiences with students as both a technician and, more recently, as a lecturer. The space for ‘pastoral care’ seems to have become far more spread, away from academics, into unofficial areas (such as workshop technicians, with whom some students spend a great deal more time than with academics, and who are not involved in assessment, so tend to be more approachable to students). The recognition of the need for this type of support, and the unrecognised provision of it, is potentially problematic in the sense that those who provide it should be recognised for it, but more importantly should be properly prepared for it and able to feed back to the university in relation to this provision. The concept of ‘religious literacy’ should be encouraged and provided for all those who come into regular contact with students and not held solely by ‘religious specialists’ (from a single religious background).