On 11 September 2015, Pope Francis led an interfaith remembrance service in the Foundation Hall of the National September 11 Memorial and Museum in New York City. 1 He was joined on stage by over a dozen representatives from a range of religious traditions, whose colourful regalia made for a stark contrast with the cavernous space where the Twin Towers once stood. The service was conceived not only as an opportunity to mourn the victims of 9/11, but also to celebrate what Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan, called the âsincere and fruitful interreligious friendshipâ amongst the cityâs diverse communities. New York-based imam Khalid Latif echoed this sentiment: âthe courage of todayâs gathering distinguishes us from the opponents of religious freedom as we stand together as brothers and sisters to condemn their horrific acts of violenceâ. Latif went on to cite a popular passage from the Qurâan (5:32): âone man lost is like all mankind, and one man saved is like all mankindâ. Rabbi Elliott Cosgrove, also based in New York, in turn quoted the Book of Psalms (34:14): âwe should love peace, and we should pursue peaceâ. He continued, âlet us celebrate, affirm, and build on our shared commitment to interreligious dialogueâ. Over the course of the ceremony, representatives of Buddhism, Sikhism and Hinduism shared similar reflections and scriptural references in an effort to reassert the centrality of peace in their respective religions, and highlighted the important role of interreligious dialogue in the pursuit of that peace. Pope Francis ended with some words of hope and reconciliation:
It is a source of great hope that in this place of sorrow and remembrance I can join with leaders representing the many religious traditions which enrich the life of this great city. I trust that our presence together will be a powerful sign of our shared desire to be a force for reconciliation, peace and justice in this community and throughout the world.
While 9/11 continues to stand as a brutal reminder of the threat of religious extremism, it has at the same time become a focal point for those advocating for the urgency of interfaith engagement. Just days after the 9/11 attacks in 2001, President George W. Bush led a similar interfaith service at the National Cathedral in Washington DC, although on that occasion he was joined only by a rabbi and an imam. The service came on the same day that an interfaith statement of solidarity, signed by 4,000 religious leaders, was published in response to the terrorist attacks. In that same week, President Bush also made a historic visit to the Islamic Center of Washington, and subsequently held private interfaith meetings at the White House. In the years following 9/11, under President Bush, and even more so under President Obama, interfaith initiatives proliferated throughout the US. In 1980, there had been only 24 interfaith councils, compared with 500 in 2006 (Halafoff 2013, 72). Today, one can search a directory of more than one thousand initiatives across the country on the Pluralism Projectâs website. 2 In Boston alone, there are 60 interfaith organisations listed.
Interfaith advocates have undoubtedly found fertile ground in post-9/11 America, but interfaith initiatives have also become increasingly common elsewhere. In the wake of the London Bridge terrorist attack in June 2017, dozens of interfaith organisations across the UK â including Faiths Forum for London, Religions for Peace UK, and the Interfaith Network â released statements, hosted community reassurance events and held vigils and minutes of silence. Similar efforts characterised the interfaith response to the Manchester Arena bombing (in May 2017) and the Finsbury Park attack (in June 2017). In fact, it has become a public ritual of sorts for religious leaders to come together in the wake of terrorist attacks, to issue joint-statements condemning violence and bigotry while at the same time championing the values of diversity, peace and coexistence. While such highly visible interfaith efforts make for striking headlines â and, in many cases, even more striking optics â they are just the tip of the interfaith iceberg.
Wide-ranging efforts to bring together institutions and individuals representing different religious traditions have often been grouped under the banner of the âinterfaith movementâ. From its beginnings in the West in the 19th century, sporadic gatherings evolved into a sustained but splintered transnational movement over the course of the 20th century. Historically rooted in theological (and often ecumenical) concerns, the interfaith movement has found itself, not unwittingly, on the forefront of a range of social and political issues as varied as human rights, climate change, conflict resolution, poverty alleviation, social justice and nuclear disarmament, to name but a few. The movement has been spurred on by major global developments, and often moments of acute crisis or periods of social and moral breakdown, such as World War II, the Holocaust and the Cold War. In the wake of 9/11 and other terrorist attacks carried out by religious fundamentalists, the interfaith movement achieved unprecedented visibility, particularly in Western multicultural democracies, where interfaith dialogue and collective action have been championed as both conduits for social cohesion and antidotes to religious intolerance and violent extremism (Fahy and Bock 2018). Beyond the West, interfaith initiatives have become a popular mode of engagement in increasingly religiously diverse contexts, from Israel to Ethiopia and Singapore to South Africa. From high-profile United Nations resolutions to state-sponsored initiatives and grassroots efforts in local neighbourhoods all over the world, the interfaith movement seems to be moving into the mainstream (Brodeur 2005, McCarthy 2007).
Much has been written on the theme of interfaith, from overviews of the interfaith landscape (Bharat and Bharat 2007, Marshall 2017) to historical accounts that outline its development (Braybrooke 1992, Kirkwood 2007), and case studies that focus on particular geographical contexts (see e.g., McCarthy 2007, Niebuhr 2008, Halafoff 2013, Knutson 2013, Chia 2016, Swamy 2016). While there is a growing body of literature that addresses what is often simply described as the âinterfaith movementâ, however, relatively little attention has been paid to what exactly it means to describe such a wide range of disparate efforts as constituting a âmovementâ. That is to say there has yet to develop a sustained analysis that focuses on the social dimensions of the actors, institutions and initiatives that comprise the global patchwork of interfaith activity. Despite the substantial body of literature that brings together religion, civil society and faith-based organisations, the interfaith movement â comprising what we might call âfaiths-basedâ organisations and initiatives â has received remarkably little attention in the social sciences. Furthermore, there has to date been very little explicit engagement with social movement theory (cf. Snarr 2011, Halafoff 2013). This is largely attributable to the centrality of theological concerns in the field, on the one hand, and the academic boundary that delineates âreligiousâ and âsocialâ movements, on the other.
Unlike other similarly fragmented social movements that centre on, for example, civil rights, economic inequality or the environment, the interfaith movement is often understood to be a âreligiousâ rather than a social or political phenomenon. This is unsurprising, given both the predominance of religious actors in, and the centrality of comparative theology to, the interfaith enterprise. The emphasis in the field on theologies of dialogue and pluralism (see e.g., Buber 1970, Hick 1985, Panikkar 1999), nevertheless, has served to obscure the myriad ways interfaith initiatives have been shaped by, and have responded to, different historical, social and political contexts. Theological perspectives, while not unimportant, have tended to pay little attention to the broader socio-historical processes that have created the conditions for the emergence of the interfaith movement in different parts of the world. However, the lack of engagement with the social and political dimensions of the movement can also be ascribed to the unease with which social movement theorists have tended to treat religion in general, and âreligiousâ movements in particular.
Despite widespread criticism of the secular paradigm in the late 20th century (Casanova 1994, Berger 2014), there remains a tacit assumption that âreligiousâ and âsocialâ movements represent distinct modes of collective behaviour. Whereas religious movements have often been distinguished by their âother-worldlyâ orientation, social movements have been understood to be concerned with distinctly âthis-worldlyâ grievances. Religious movements have not been entirely absent from social movement theory debates, but they have for the most part been confined to resource mobilisation (RM) frameworks â that have been disproportionately interested in new religious movements (NRMs) â rather than broader theories of collective behaviour. There have long since been calls to end the estrangement between the sociology of religion and the sociology of social movements (Zald 1982, Hannigan 1991, Lindekilde and KĂźhle 2015). Some have sought to overcome the rigid disciplinary boundary (Beckford 2003, Smith 1996, Rozell and Wilcox 1997), while others have highlighted the distinctly religious origins of contemporary social movements (Morris 1984, Young 2002, 2007). A theoretical synthesis, however, remains elusive.
In the case of the interfaith movement, it is particularly important to challenge this disciplinary boundary. However often interfaith advocates may rely on theological or broadly speaking religious resources to frame their agenda, and however integral religious actors and institutions may be to the movement itself, it would be a mistake to conceive of the interfaith movement in exclusively religious terms. Its value-oriented goals of mutual understanding, tolerance and coexistence â not to mention the variety of agendas interfaith advocates have invested in, such as human rights, poverty alleviation and climate change â represent inherently moral, as indeed they do social and political concerns. Furthermore, insofar as it occupies a range of discursive spaces at the intersection of theology, morality and politics, and espouses initiatives that engage with issues that belong not only to the âreligiousâ, but also the social and political spheres, the interfaith movement presents a particularly interesting challenge to theorists of religion and social movements alike. As this volume sets out to demonstrate, it also presents an important opportunity to overcome the longstanding estrangement between the two.
Often conceived simply as a network of religious or theological initiatives, a central claim of this volume is that the interfaith movement is best understood as a socio-political phenomenon, within which religious actors and institutions occupy a privileged place. Unlike much of the literature on interfaith that focuses on theological questions of dialogue or pluralism, this volume brings together experts in the fields of religion, sociology, anthropology, political science and social movement theory to offer an in-depth social analysis of the field of interfaith through a range of case studies from around the world. In doing so, it both sheds new light on the movement itself and challenges the longstanding academic division of labour that confines âreligiousâ and âsocialâ movements to separate spheres of inquiry. Before returning to these themes in more detail, we first sketch a historical overview of the emergence and development of the so-called âinterfaith movementâ.