Editorial

2017, Vol. 5(1) 38

On a balanced critique: ! The Author(s) 2017
Reprints and permissions:

(or on the limits of critique) sagepub.co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav

DOI: 10.1177/2050303217690902
journals.sagepub.com/home/crr

Warren S Goldstein
Center for Critical Research on Religion, USA

Rebekka King
Middle Tennessee State University, USA

Jonathan Boyarin
Cornell University, USA

Despite emphasizing in previous editorials that critique means to discern both the positive
and the negative based on sets of values, we have nevertheless received some manuscripts
whose primary aim is to trash religion without considering its positive role. These manu-
scripts have made gross generalizations about religion as if it is one thing and assumed that
the task of scholars who study it is to expose its inconsistencies and inaccuracies, often
through condemnation or mockery. As such, their understanding of religion is one-dimen-
sional. Since we have addressed that there is no commonly agreed upon denition of religion
and that the usefulness of the very category itself has been subject to much debate within
religious studies, it would be absurd to make any generalized claims that can be applied to all
religions.
Just as there are naysayers about religion, there are those on the other side who shy away
from saying anything negative or critical about it. It is almost as if they have taken to heart
the old school-yard adage, if you dont have anything nice to say, dont say anything at
all. Included among these are not only those who proclaim to be value-free (as we have
discussed in previous editorials), but those who want to celebrate world religions in some
type of ecumenical eort to bring humanity together. Focusing for example on how religions
can contribute to the promotion of peace while ignoring how religions can fuel war is to see
only one side of the coin. It is at times disappointing to receive submissions that reect the
type of simplistic thinking we work to discourage our undergraduate students from adopt-
ing. While it might be tempting to dismiss these papers as an artifact of our interdisciplinary
edict, perhaps coming from scholars less invested or embedded in the disciplinary conver-
sations common to the study of religion, we nd that this experience provides fodder for
further thinking about the nature of critique both as it emerges in Critical Research
on Religion and in the discipline writ large. We want to explore further the question,

Corresponding author:
Warren S Goldstein, Center for Critical Research on Religion, 47 Cotton Street, Newton, MA 02458, USA.
Email: goldstein@criticaltheoryofreligion.org
4 Critical Research on Religion 5(1)

How should scholars think about the social implications of their critique? In doing so, we
hope to create space for a conversation and debate wherein an ethic of critique is explored.
While to avoid critique altogether is to turn one blind eye, focusing only on the negative
eects of religion is to turn the other. Beyond this point, critique, taken too far, has
undesirable outcomes (albeit in often unexpected ways), which is not the intent of this
journal. Therefore, in this editorial, we shall focus on the limits or the boundaries of critique.
To begin this discussion, it is fruitful to examine the work of Left Hegelian theologians,
who through the development of biblical criticism, provide the foundation for a critical
approach to the study of religion. A central gure of this group was Bruno Bauer, who
besides writing a lengthy critique of the gospels also wrote an early essay on The Jewish
Question or The Jewish Problem (Die Judenfrage) ([1843] 1958). Written in the aftermath
of the Napoleonic occupation (under which Jews in the German monarchies gained various
rights that were later rescinded under the Restoration), Bauers essay questioned whether
Jews should be granted full citizenship in a Christian state. Under the inuence of Hegel,
Bauer held that Christianity represented a higher stage of religious development than
Judaism. He argued that in order to be granted full rights in a Christian state, Jews must
give up their particular identity.
Bauers essay provoked a response by Karl Marx ([1843] 1975), who took its thesis a step
further, arguing that political emancipation was not enough. He asserted that only when the
state ceased to be Christian would religious aliation no longer be a criterion for full citi-
zenship. Furthermore, although Marx came from a rabbinic family and his father converted
to Christianity so he could practice law, Marx internalized the anti-Semitism prevalent in
post Restoration Germany. Using the stereotype of the Jewish huckster, he equated the Jews
with capitalism, which (like religion in his eyes) needed to be transcended.1 While Bauer was
a republican, after the Revolution of 1848, he aligned himself with the right-wing in
Germany and devolved into even more virulent anti-Semitism (Moggach, 2003: 181;
Rosen, 1997: 8). Disastrously, what began as a question about the possibility of civil inte-
gration became a discourse about superior and inferior races (the Aryans and Semites). At
the Wannsee conference, the Nazis came up with their own answer to the Jewish Question
(die Judenfrage): the Final Solution (die Endlosung) (see Mosse, 1985). The result was geno-
cide. Since anti-Semitism long preceded Bauer and he was not the rst to formulate the
Jewish Question as a problem, we cannot hold him responsible for the Final Solution.
However, at least from a contemporary perspective, his essay serves as a reference point
for this debate. Which brings us to the question: Does scholarship, and in particular, critical
scholarship on religion, have consequences, whether intended or not, and ought we be
mindful of them?
Another illustration that words matter and that the critique of religion can have unin-
tended consequences is the ways in which Marxs opium quotation has been removed not
only from the surrounding text (Bloch, 1972: 62) but taken out of historical context and
misunderstood. In the same passage Marx also states that religion is an expression of real
suering and a protest against it (Marx, [184344] 1992: 244). When Marx wrote this in
1843, opium was legal. It was used for medicinal purposes including by Marx himself. But it
was also subject to much controversy. It was a source of prot, destroyed peoples lives, and
caused the Opium Wars between Britain and China (18391842 and 18561860). These
factors led to the temperance movement against it (McKinnon, 2006). In the Soviet context,
Lenin ([1909] 1973: 410) reiterated Marxs opium quotation and religion was repressed.
Under Maos Cultural Revolution in China, a similar repression took an extreme form.
Goldstein et al. 5

Religion was considered by the state to be a spiritual opium that poisoned peoples minds
(Yiwu, 2011: 107). All temples, churches, and mosques were closed. Clergy members were
publically humiliated, sent to the countryside to do forced labor, imprisoned, tortured, or
killed. While the repression of religion was brutal, not all religious parties were entirely
innocent. Contributing factors to the repression of religions were the association of
Christianity in China with European imperialism, the Vaticans vehement opposition to
the new Communist regime, and the links between Confucianism and the Manchu Qing
Dynasty.
A less extreme example lies in the case of historical Jesus research, which plays a double
role as biblical scholarship and (in some cases) as popular literature that directs religious
aliation and belief. The works of the Jesus Seminar, for example, have generated an entire
industry associated with the Westar Institute and Polebridge Press that serves to reinforce
the moderately left-leaning beliefs of mainline liberal and progressive Christians. Likewise,
popular books by biblical scholars such as John Dominic Crossan, Bart Ehrman, and N.T.
Wright are taken up by Christians and used to determine which parts of the Jesus story they
will believe and how it might frame not only their religious perspectives but also their social
and political ones. While Ehrman is an atheist and does not see his task as related to religious
instruction, his books are primarily consumed by Christianseither those looking to salvage
their faith or those on a path to rejecting it. In contrast, both Crossan and Wright explicitly
wrap their biblical scholarship around politicaltheological concerns. While writing to audi-
ences at dierent ends of the political and theological spectrum (Crossans is liberal or
progressive and Wrights is conservative or evangelical), each endorses a subversive and
anti-empire Jesus who compels contemporary Christians to adopt a counter-cultural logic
and protest the status quo. To be sure, as Robert Myles (2016) shows, these attempts at
subversion are primarily rendered symbolically and internally, and are unlikely to result in
an Episcopalian uprising across the Northeast. It would perhaps be the rst revolution to
pause for Evensong, a glass of sherry, and a reside chat.
These examples point to the question of the social eects of critique and serve as a
warning to us about the limits of critique and the need for a balanced critique. Therefore,
what guidelines do we suggest for encouraging the critique to remain robust, while advising
that we need to be prudent in our words and mindful of their potential social consequences?
In some cases, our research has the capacity to aect the ways religious groups and indi-
viduals are understood and received either by a larger society or within their religious
communities.
First, we need to distinguish between criticism itself, which remains in the realm of lan-
guage and analysis, and action that the critique could set in motion. As we have discussed,
critique has both intended and unintended consequences which can be quite detrimental.
However, where manifestations of religion are pernicious, the absence of critique is equally
harmful. So, how do we determine when this is the case? As we have stressed in our previous
editorials, critique must be based on a set of values. These values themselves are, to a large
extent, adopted as given from those around and before us, but are also subject to reexive
articulation and hence malleable. They include but are not limited to a belief in freedom,
equality, justice, democracy, peace, harmony with nature, etc. Some of these values may
come into conict with each other (for example, economic freedom and economic equality)
and must through careful consideration be weighed against each other.
Second, when we engage in critique, we must always be mindful of the rights of religious
minorities. Mary Jo Neitz (2013) uses standpoint theory in a previous issue of this journal
6 Critical Research on Religion 5(1)

to suggest how this can be done. Critique should never be used to justify the persecution of
religious minorities. While most scholars would agree that religious groups should be
allowed to practice their religions as they please as long as they are not harmful to their
members or others, they would likewise be reticent to support the overt action of religious
groups to impose their beliefs and practices on others.
How one should engage in critique poses particular problems for ethnography. In this
method, researchers become close to their subjects and must contend with a discomfort and
tension that emerges when the people we know and have grown to care about become
objects of analysis. How we select, organize, and present our information will lead the
reader to certain conclusions and in certain instances betray our values even when they
are never explicitly stated. For example, if we were to focus on gender relations within a
religious community, implicit in such discussion might be guiding values of gender equality.
At the same time, to not engage in critiqueto portray a religious community only in a
positive light without paying attention to the negativeswould not be balanced.
As a discipline, religious studies has worked diligently to dierentiate itself from theo-
logical and other ideological inuences (see Goldstein, Boer, King and Boyarin, 2015 edi-
torial). This process has occurred in ts and starts and has been organized around dierent
schools, individuals, and cohorts of scholarsmany of whom would rather not be classied
in kind (e.g. Fitzgerald, 2016: 308). In doing so, it has adopted a strong neutral stanceone
made all the more sensible in consideration of a subject matter that overlaps with ontological
claims about the human condition that cannot be veried (i.e. people have souls that will be
rewarded in a future life). We see this animating feature as central to the work we do as
scholars of religion. But as a journal that oers itself as a platform for broader conversations
of critical analysis of religion drawn not only from religious studies but also from theology,
sociology, philosophy, history, anthropology, and other social sciences, we recognize that
not all of these disciplines are shaped by the same desires for ideological distance. Critical
Research on Religion has proposed an experiment of sortslocating ourselves alongside the
values derived from and associated with the Frankfurt School, we have created a space
where critique has oered the possibility of stepping more conscientiously into the forefront
as an expression of the norms derived from a particular scholars eld of study and theor-
etical lens. While this may seem to be a concession, it is one that has been granted in part due
to the observation of the impossibility of neutrality.2 With this in mind, and in response to
the aggregate of article submissions we have received that aim to either celebrate or
denounce religious beliefs, practices, or particular religious communities, we have posed
this question on the social eects of, and possibility for, balanced critiques. We anticipate
that this editorial will invite discussion rather than serve as le dernier cri on this issue.
Another quandary that critique poses is how to frame those religious practices that are
harmless (i.e. are not harmful to those who practice them or to others) but may be based on
what we reasonably deem superstition, fantasy, illusion, and the like. These are legitimate
practices in which to engage in critique so long as it is understood that those who do it have
the right do sothat this freedom to practice is fundamental to an open and democratic
society. One example is the right to veil. In the case of the French Republic, we would argue
that the secular state has taken this restriction too far. We need to look at this in context and
take a few dierent factors into consideration: First, the secular French state has its origins
as a reaction to the divine right of an absolute monarchy in which there was a state church.
Second, both the right to veil and the opposition to it are symbolic expressions of the uneasy
immigration of Muslims mostly from former French colonies. Despite this, we maintain that
Goldstein et al. 7

veiling is a rightful expression of religious identity of which the French state should be
tolerant. Or to use a more widespread religious practice: praying. While there is no evidence
that praying for something achieves its desired goal, through an intervention of divine forces,
it nevertheless provides a source of social solidarity, makes people feel good, and there is no
harm done. So, while we may engage in a critique of the practice, we certainly do not intend
this critique to lead to any restrictions on any restrictions of its activity.
Other topics entangled with religion entail more urgent and obvious harms, such as the
abortion controversy, which after fty years still rages in the United States. At the heart of
this is the religious belief that life begins at conception, a belief that certain religious groups
attempt to impose on the broader society. While they derive this viewpoint from a variety of
sources, one of the most authoritative is a particular reading of key biblical passages. One
of the tasks of biblical criticism is to place such passages in historical context. The extent to
which the biblical scholar might be interested in using such specialized knowledge to wade
into the debate speaks to the question of the boundaries of critique.
Imagine if you will a scholar undertaking a study of the refusal of blood transfusions on
the part of Jehovahs Witnessesan issue which is both academically interesting and socially
relevant, especially when it has involved high-prole cases of parents exercising the right to
deny treatment on behalf of their children. Assuming this scholar holds the values articu-
lated by Critical Research on Religion (or those held by most citizens of liberal democratic
societies), she would discern a tension between the constitutional right for freedom of reli-
gious practice alongside the imperative of the state to look out for the inalienable rights of
children. Her critique would of course depend on the other interests guiding her study. If she
were interested in how belief operates within religious imaginaries, she might explore their
conceptions of what bodies and blood signify; if she were a legal scholar she might address
the ways the practice is framed by the courts and examine whether or not a given legal
system has been consistent (or inconsistent) in rulings regarding Jehovahs Witnesses; or as a
scholar of intersections between religion and medicine, she might be interested in addressing
what alternative medical and therapeutic practices are employed or the responses on the part
of medical professionals. After working through a nuanced discussion and presenting the
material in ways that address multiple sides of the issue and larger questions about world-
view, social context, and religious ideologies, is there a place for critique? And if so, how,
where, and why? While she may choose to leave the discussion as it is and allow her reader to
draw his own conclusions, she may herself have strong opinions on this topic and feel that
her expertise provides justication for expressing it.
For many scholars of religion, the answer is obviouswe do not wade into the disagree-
ments between our interlocutors. Our interests lie elsewhere. But for a sociologist, a theo-
logian, or a philosopher, among scholars of other disciplines, these borders are not patrolled
in the same manner. If we want to engage in a cross-disciplinary conversation, we need to do
so in a way that allows for a comprehensive understanding of how we have undertaken the
gathering, organization, and presentation of our data, and which guiding principles and
what assumptions are being held concerning the nature of our study and its end results.
Therefore, in attempting to achieve a balanced critique or in coming up against the limits
of critique, we need to consider a few things: First, ones guiding criteria to engage in critique
must be based on a set of values, clearly stated and balanced against each other. Based on
this a scholar might evaluate both the positive and negative contributions of varying reli-
gious beliefs, practices, and traditions. At Critical Research on Religion, we arm the free-
dom of religions to uphold their traditions and identities and practice as they please so long
8 Critical Research on Religion 5(1)

as they are not harmful to the adherents of those traditions or to others based on explicitly
stated values. Finally, we separate critique from action although one may lead to the other.
When we engage in critique, we must be mindful of how other actors might interpret the
critique and attempt to implement it. Our goal at Critical Research on Religion is not to trash
or promote religion but to build political alliances based on commonly agreed upon values
regardless of where one positions oneself within, alongside, or in opposition to the trajectory
between the secular and the religious.

Notes
1. Although Bauer was to maintain that Christianity was a higher stage of development than Judaism,
in another essay written the same year (Bauer, 1843), he concurred with Marx that Christians as well
as Jews needed to transcend their religion.
2. As noted in our previous editorial cited above, even the advance of neutrality and objectivity is
derived from particular ethical, ideological, and social positions and commitments.

References
Bauer B ([1843] 1958) The Jewish Problem. Translated by Helen Lederer. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union
College.
Bauer B (1843) Die fahigkeit der heutigen Juden und Christen, frei zu warden. In: Hess M, Grun K
and Bauer B (eds) Einundzwanzigbogen aus der Schweiz. Zurich und Winterthur: Verlag des
Literarischen Comptoirs, pp.5673.
Bloch E ([1968] 1972) Atheism in Christianity: The Religion of the Exodus and the Kingdom. Translated
by JT Swan. New York: Herder and Herder.
Fitzgerald T (2016) Critical religion and critical research on religion: A response to the April 2016
editorial. Critical Research on Religion 4(3): 307313.
Goldstein WS, Boer R, King R and Boyarin J (2015) Editorial: How can mainstream approaches
become more critical? Critical Research on Religion 3(1): 312.
Lenin VI ([1909] 1973) The attitude of the workers party to religion. In: Lenin VI (ed) Collected
Works. Moscow: Progress Publishers, pp.402413.
Marx K ([1843] 1975) On the Jewish question. In: Marx K and Engels F (eds) Collected Works, Vol. 3.
New York: International Publishers, pp.146174.
Marx K ([18431844] 1992) Early Writings. London: Penguin Books.
McKinnon AM (2006) Opium as dialectics of religion: Metaphor, expression and protest.
In: Goldstein WS (ed) Marx, Critical Theory and Religion: A Critique of Rational Choice. Leiden
and Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, pp.1130.
Moggach D (2003) The Philosophy and Politics of Bruno Bauer. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Mosse GL (1985) Toward the Final Solution: A History of European Racism. New York: Howard
Fertig, Inc.
Myles R (2016) The fetish for a subversive Jesus. Journal for the Study of Historical Jesus 14(1): 5270.
Neitz MJ (2013) Insiders, outsiders, advocates and apostates and the religions they study: Location and
the sociology of religion. Critical Research on Religion 1(2): 129140.
Rosen Z (1979) Bruno Bauer and Karl Marx: The Inuence of Bruno Bauer on Karl Marxs Thought.
The Hague: Martinus Nijho.
Yiwu L (2011) God is Red: The Secret Story of How Christianity Survived and Flourished in Communist
China. Translated by Wenguang Huang. New York: Harper Collins Publishers.