
John Rapley - FOREIGN FOCUS IT IS often noted with irony that the land with the largest pornography industry, America, also gave the world religious fundamentalism. But perhaps it is not so ironic. Funda-mentalism emerged from the U.S. at the turn of the last century as evangelical Christians wrestled with the challenges of modernity. The growth of Biblical criticism, evolution, and the erosion of community brought on by urbanisation all weakened the fabric of traditional religion. In response, many churchmen called for a return to the 'fundamentals' of Christian faith.
HINDU FUNDAMENTALISM
Other religions borrowed the concepts and ideas of Christian fundamentalism in crafting their own variants. Islamic fundamentalism began to develop from about the 1920s, and some of its earliest intellectuals studied their Christian counterparts closely. Hindu fundamentalism, which is today gaining influence in India, grew largely out of a response to the challenge to Indian culture posed by Christian missionaries during the colonial period. Some of the ideas of Hindu fundamentalism in particular, the stress on a canon of sacred texts have little basis in Indian tradition and appear to have been taken directly from the missionaries, who had their Bible.
From the outset, therefore, fundamentalism was strongest where modernity had made the greatest strides. As the philosopher Bertrand Russell once noted, in times of rapid change there is a human instinct to cling to the timeless. Social libertinism and religious conservatism seem to be the two faces of the same coin. So it has been with the fundamentalism of other faiths. Where Islamic or Hindu fundamentalism are strongest is not in tradition-bound rural communities but in the cities of Third-World countries. Equally, Jewish fundamentalism, which is becoming ever more influential in Israel's politics, arguably springs not from the soil that sired Judaism in the Middle East, but from diasporic communities, most especially in New York.
ONE AND THE SAME
What is especially intriguing, though, is that libertines and fundamentalists do not merely grow up alongside one another, feeding off each other in a sort of strange co-dependency. Often, they are one and the same. The biography of Osama bin Laden provides vivid illustration of this. Osama leads an austere life in which he has retreated into a medieval repudiation of all that smacks of the West or modernity. It was not always thus. He grew up within a religious family that gave him an upbringing that was, within the context of Yemeni-Saudi culture, conventional. But as a young man he went to study in Beirut, which was then called the Paris of the Middle East. There, all the delights of the West were on display for him. And, given that his wealthy family provided him with a substantial stipend, it was all accessible.
OSAMA'S TURNING POINT
By most accounts, Osama sank gleefully into the fleshpots of the Levant, reveling in wine, women and song, not to mention a little brawling on the side. As it was for many young Arabs, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 was a turning-point for Osama. To him, it represented an assault on a Muslim nation by a state that was still, officially, atheist. Osama quickly joined the struggle and returned to his faith. But given his journey, it was not enough for him to return to the point of origin. He had demons to purge, and so retreated back further than the orthodox Islam of his childhood. It was no surprise he grew convinced of the wickedness of the West: he had once immersed himself in it. It is not hard to end a relationship with someone you see only once a year; you just stop calling. But when that person shares your bed, it takes a determined and often painful effort to break the ties.
Osama was hardly unique. He could serve as a metonym for many fundamentalists: people who grow up within a fairly conventional religious context, stray and become libertines, and then resolve guilt complexes by retreating into a militant faith. Perhaps it is admirable to demand much of oneself as a form of purgation. But when one demands of others when one bombs churches or mosques or synagogues and kills children in order to save them from the evils in which you once delighted it turns ugly. But it is something that the rest of us will have to get used to. Modernity and the social liberties it affords is not going to reverse. The conveyor-belt to militant fundamentalism will thus be kept well-stocked.
John Rapley is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Government UWI, Mona.