Gender and Religion in the City

Women, Urban Planning and Spirituality

Clara Greed, Clara Greed

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9780429763663
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Architettura
• Subtopic: Pianificazione urbana e paesaggistica

This book provides a conceptual, historical and contemporary context to the relationships between gender, religion and cities.

It draws together these three components to provide an innovative view of how religion and gender interact and affect urban form and city planning. While there have been many books that deal with religion and cities; gender and cities; and gender and religion, this book is unique in bringing these three subjects together. This trio of inter-relationships is first explored within Western Christianity: in Roman Catholicism, Protestantism, Eastern Orthodoxy and in the Pentecostal and Charismatic movements. A wider perspective is then provided in chapters on the ways in which Islam shapes urban development and influences the position of Muslim women in urban space. While official religions have declined in the West there is still a desire for new forms of spirituality, and this is discussed in chapters on municipal spirituality and on the rise of paganism and the links to both environmentalism and feminism. Finally, ways of taking into account both gender and religion within the statutory urban planning system are presented.

This book will be of great interest to those researching environment and gender, urban planning and sustainability, human geography and religion.

Part I

Background

1 Introduction

Interactions between gender, urban space and religion

Clara Greed

How can the humanities ignore the human soul?

(Arthur, 1991)

Introduction

This book investigates the relationship between religion (including faith, belief, spirituality, worship), cities (and urban planning) and gender (with particular reference to women). In our predominantly secular, material and scientific culture, ‘religion’ is often seen as an outdated concept, a superstition with little relevance to the modern age. But for millennia religious belief has had a major influence in shaping urban areas, both in the UK and globally. Religion has also shaped women’s position within society and the city, in both negative and positive ways. There has always been an uneasy relationship between religion and feminism because of the perceived patriarchal and misogynist nature of the Church and its apparent endorsement of women’s oppression within society (Daly, 1973). Likewise the built-environment professions have been male-dominated and have historically provided little space for the consideration of women’s needs within the city of man (Greed, 1994).

There is a great deal of research and publication on the duos of ‘gender and religion’, ‘gender and cities’ and ‘religion and cities’ (for example Eade and Mele, 2002), but this book seeks innovatively to achieve the hat-trick (trio), to combine all three factors together (as pre-figured in Greed, 2011). But we are hindered by the ‘double blindness’ of both religion and gender seldom figuring in either planning policy or urban sociology (Jaschok, 2015; Greed, 2017) or in the humanities as a whole (as commented upon in the statement at the top of this chapter) (Arthur, 1991). Therefore, throughout, we will inform our discussions of religion and cities with a gendered lens on the issues.

The situation is not static. It has been argued that society is now, in part at least, entering a postsecular phase (Beaumont and Baker, 2011), characterised by a re-emergence of faith in the public realm of civil society and the city (Cox, 1995; Beaumont and Baker, 2011), compared with twentieth-century attitudes (Cox, 1965). But many traditional Christians are not convinced and believe we are still in the secular phase (Cornwell, 2019). As to definitions of ‘postsecularism’, Baines argues that, according to Habermas, postsecularism is marked by a contest between religious lobbyists (which have grown in strength with the resurgence of fundamentalist religions) and secular pressure groups who promote diversity and equality (Baines, 2009). A new relativism, and an uneasiness with scientific positivism, are also features of the emerging postsecular era, allowing for the co-existence of a range of truths, with no one truth predominating which is at odds with both secular scientific positivism and the absolutes of sacred dogma (Habermas and Ratzinger, 2007). Within this evolving context, women and other marginalised groups have been able to challenge the principles of religious orthodoxy from a feminist perspective. This has enabled women both to have a greater role within existing denominations (for example as vicars in the Anglican Church) and to create alternative ways of ‘doing religion’ often linked to creating new forms of utopian community.

Although this book is set within the context of postsecularism, it should not be assumed that people are returning to traditional Christianity. Many people, who would not consider that they have any particular religious affiliation, especially not to the Church, nevertheless have a longing for spirituality, reflection and contemplation (Davie, 1994; 2015). In the UK there has been a growth in the importance of Islam (Peach and Gale, 2003) along with the manifestation of a variety of new non-traditional Christian movements. These include Pentecostalism and the Charismatic movement (characterised by the emphasis upon the Holy Spirit (Burgess and van der Maas, 2002)). There is also an interest in paganism, and new age spirituality, some of whose adherents have sought to create alternative ways of living, often strongly espousing green, sustainable, environmental principles too, but who are also concerned about gender and sexualities (Kraemer, 2012).

Historically, religion has been a major factor in shaping civilisation, music, art, architecture and town planning, and the wider countryside and environment (Gorringe, 2002; Sheldrake, 2014; Garbin and Strhan, 2017). In the past urban planners were fully cognisant of its importance and designed entire cities around religious principles, for example during the Renaissance in Europe or in the Moghul and Hindu cities of India (Narayanan, 2016). In the UK, this religious heritage, the nation’s ‘inherited religious capital’ of the Christian past, arguably still shapes modern secular society. Societal concerns with ethics, justice, human rights, politics, social engagement and equality issues of all sorts (and of course feminism) are all influenced, or at least framed, to some degree at least, by previous religious attitudes. But these roots have been obscured by secular and scientific ways of thinking. In contrast much of the rest of the world never underwent a secular phase, and religion still plays an important part in people’s daily lives. When immigrants settle in the UK they bring with them their religious beliefs and related spatial needs to the bemusement of secularised urban planning authorities (Gale, 2008; Mee, 2016).

The spatial dimensions of religion

Several of the contributors to the book are urban planners (or at least from the realms of ‘gender and geography’ or linked to the ‘women and planning’ movement), and we are keen to give a strongly spatial perspective on the issues and to consider how the planning system treats ‘religion’. But many mainstream planners seem to give very little ‘value’ to religious buildings, land uses and spaces, and there is no mention at all of religion in a typical planning department’s development plans (Greed, 2016a; 2016b; Greed and Johnson, 2014). As will be explained, churches and other religious uses were once required to be included as part of the land-use planning system created after the Second World War. But by the 1970s this aspect was gradually reduced and following a ‘streamlining’ of planning law a separate religious category was dropped altogether (Mulkeen, 2014). At best nowadays religious buildings may be included under the category of diversity, culture or community, but at worst they may be left out altogether. Planners seem keen to treat religious buildings as disposable items or as ‘heritage architecture’, especially ‘redundant’ church buildings. Then they can be used for (what were seen as) ‘more useful purposes’ such as wine bars, apartments, museums, tourist attractions and arts centres – even when there is a great demand from other religious groups for redundant church buildings. Religious land use, development and building stock requirements are seldom recorded or surveyed by the planners, so they are rendered invisible. Therefore an acknowledgement of the ‘spatial’ dimensions of the religious and spiritual dimensions of people’s lives and longings will suffuse much of the book.

But identifying the spatial dimensions of religion, and the need to integrate this into the planning system, does not necessarily mean that change will take place. We are living within a built environment that has taken centuries to develop, and that is not quickly altered. However, contributors can at least highlight ‘the problems’ and some will make recommendations as to how both urban policy and planning law might be reconfigured to improve the situation. Another key theme that is explored in many chapters is whether those who want to change the city and urban society (including feminists, religious groups and reformers) can achieve this through the planning system, from ‘within’ the planning system, or whether they chose to try to ‘start again’ by giving up on existing cities and planning systems and building utopian alternative communities instead. Both these approaches (trying to change existing cities or creating new alternatives) are based upon the theological assumption that Christian ‘salvation’ is not just something that is experienced when we die and go to Heaven (to the New Jerusalem, the ultimate heavenly Utopia). Rather it is the believer’s duty to help fulfil the words of the Lord’s Prayer, ‘Thy Kingdom come on earth, as it is in Heaven’ (Matthew Ch. 6, Ver. 10): that is faith and works.

The gendered aspects of religion

There has always been an uneasy relationship between religion and feminism because of the perceived patriarchal and misogynist nature of the Church and its apparent endorsement of women’s oppression within society. Many religious women have problems with theologians and church leaders, particularly those on the right. In spite of assuring us of their best intentions, and that ‘the Gospel is for everyone’, some male leaders still manifest very traditional and often quite misogynistic attitudes as to quite who ‘everyone’ is. While it is to be welcomed that churches are getting more involved in ‘the public square’ and politics and involving ‘more women’ in the process (Boot, 2014; Laurence, 2014), it can be alarming that some more right-wing fundamentalist groups bring with them quite traditional attitudes towards women. There is always a tension between religion and gender, and, for example, individual women often feel they should remain faithful to their religious fellowship in order to do all their good works and worship their God. But, they may feel they are undervalued and undermined by the male leadership. Instead, they might find their vocation is better fulfilled by working in secular and governmental agencies.

Debates about secular and postsecular society leave many women unimpressed, because gender issues have not necessarily been acknowledged within the discourse (Aune, 2015). Likewise, we are not going to pretend that the inclusion of religion in planning policy will necessarily make cities better for everyone, especially women. Furthermore, many women are wary of patriarchal religion. The built-environment professions remain male-dominated and any discussion or inclusion of religion in the planning agenda is likely to be prone to be framed within the terms of male interests and patriarchal images of religion, unless mitigated by a gender perspective. One also needs to investigate aspects of feminist thought, for much feminism is still quite secular and humanistic in perspective. Some proponents of the latest fourth wave feminism seem quite hostile to religion and prone to accept negative stereotypes of religion (Greed, 2017). So faith still sits uneasily with feminism. Much of feminist thought is not particularly ‘spatial’ either. Certain branches of academic feminism tend to be rather ‘snooty’ about anything to do with buildings, construction, urban planning and the practicalities of life (Greed, 1991), preferring to devote their time to philosophy, sociology and cultural studies. This is because they may not appreciate the importance of the built environment, or simply take it for granted, for as David Harvey commented many years ago, many sociologists [and feminists] are ‘living in a space-less vacuum’ (Harvey, 1975).

However, the links between religion, cities and women’s rights were more strongly manifest in first wave feminism but were gradually forgotten (Greed, 1994). Although women had been influential in the nineteenth-century urban reform movements and in the development of model utopian industrial communities, they were increasingly excluded from the new planning profession. Significant numbers of educated women actively campaigned to get women’s needs and ‘different’ perspective incorporated into housing design, model town development, urban planning, architecture and in welfare reform. Many first wave feminists, including Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Olive Schreiner and Alice Constance Austin, were involved in town planning, housing and architecture (Greed, 1994: Chapter 6). In spite of the gendered restrictions present in Victorian Church-dominated society, many early feminists were also religiously inclined. Many had a strong moral agenda and were supporters of the temperance movement and Sunday observance. For example, a million women signed a petition in 1887 to make pubs close on Sundays (so the men did not drink their wages). The full rallying cry of the suffragette movement was ‘votes for women and chastity for men’ (which tied in with their three main principles of purity, dignity and hope). Many feminist and suffrage groups were Church-based and saw feminism as being their God-given calling (Tickner, 1987: 223) and some marched under the banner (Tickner, 1987: 72) of the Church League for Women’s Suffrage, emblazoned with the embroidered slogan, ‘the glorious liberty of the children of God’.

In contrast, the municipalised, positivistic, ‘rational’, secular urban planning that developed since the nineteenth century was more concerned with economic development and functionality than specifically with social issues or equality matters. So gradually religion, and women’s issues too, dropped off the agenda of the emerging humanistic, material ‘modern’ society. Modern town planning, which gained stronger governmental and bureaucratic powers by the early twentieth century in the UK, has been characterised as a male-dominated, rational and scientifically based profession. As the twentieth century progressed, planning became driven by ‘the white heat of technology’ and concerns about the economy and the public realm (and motor car) (Greed, 1994). Policy became detached from the concerns of ‘everyday life’ which beset women, and gendered considerations were given a low priority.

Because of the planning profession’s obsession with ‘physical’ land-use planning – as the only factor that really mattered – it has often been criticised for having little ‘space’ for so-called ‘social issues’ such as the differences between men and women’s needs within the built environment, and little concern with ‘cultural factors’ such as the requirements of different religious and ethnic groups within society (Young and Stevenson, 2013). However, in the post-war era, there was a growing critique from a developing group of urban sociologists who argued that ‘planning is for people’ (Broady, 1968) (but whether ‘people’ included women is another matter (Greed, 1994)). But nowadays, at least within academia, there seems to be a move towards a softer, more reflective approach to understanding ‘the city’ and a mellowing of sociological thought to allow for diversity, equality, social inclusion and a wider range of social and cultural factors. Likewise town planning practice is gradually taking on board the importance of issues of, inter alia, diversity, equality, environmentalism, sustainability and community in determining policy making. One would think at first sight, this might lead to a greater recognition of both women’s needs and the spiritual and religious aspects of urban society. But ‘the problem’ is that religion comes very low on the pecking order, as does gender, relative to other equality factors, such as sexuality, ethnicity and social deprivation (although arguably both gender and religion intersect with al...