ONE
The Factional Causes and Religious Consequences of Politics
How can we explain âreligiousâ politics without either essentializing or bypassing religion? Scholarship on religion and politics tends to vacillate between these two extremes. Essentialists and primordialists ascribe to religious actors a set of fixed theological and overpredictive characteristics that determine their behavior,1 while rationalists focus on strategic interests and view ideology as a âpoor predictorâ of action.2 The first group explains political outcomes in terms of the actorsâ religious doctrines; the inflexibility of religious doctrines leads to radical actions. These studies in general focus on the causal role of religion in the security arena. The second group examines internal political upheavals and religious transformationsâparticularly the ideological âmoderationâ of actorsâin the context of party politics. They posit that doctrinal changes are a contingent byproduct of the electoral process.
In many of these studies, religious ideology is either a mover or an accidental product of politics. The first considers doctrine as exogenously induced; the second views it as endogenous to electoral politics. The essentialists are concerned with political theology as an independent variable but do not account for observable ideological shifts: political theology consists of long-held static beliefs rather than interpretations that can change in short order. Many rationalists, on the other hand, address it as an outcome of behavioral change. Absent in the literature is a micro-level causal analysis of theological shifts. This theophobia has led to a number of shortcomings. Falling into one-dimensional spectrums and binaries such as radical/moderate, social scientists often study religious ideologies as unitary and unidirectional. They do not account for the collection of contradictory attributes that religious discourse can possess.
This book studies religion and politics by studying both religion and politics instead of fixating on one at the expense of the other. It aims to explain how elites strategically construct religious doctrines in an uncertain environment. It focuses on religion not as an independent variable, nor a constitutive factor, nor an accidental outcome, but as a strategic construct with which political actors strive to capture the state.
I use an âextremeâ case whose politics have been deeply imbued with religious ideology for the last half century. As an âinstance of a class of events,â3 Iran is often employed by social scientists to demonstrate the resurgence of religion and its undeniable role in international politics. Because it is an âIslamicâ state led by âGodâs representative on earth,â Iran can provide us with a unique analytical edge to study the role of religion in politics. Therefore, it should be the least likely case in which religious doctrines alter. Yet religious discourse in Iran has taken a variety of quietist, revolutionary, statist, reformist, pragmatic, and ultraconservative turns. These narratives have emerged or faded in direct response to inter- and intra-elite rivalries during the 1979 revolution, the post-revolutionary civil wars, the IranâIraq War, the reform era, the Green Movement, the nuclear negotiations, the conflicts in Iraq and Syria, etc.
This chapter lays out my argument on the strategic construction and deployment of religious doctrines by political elites, which has been a dominant yet overlooked feature of Iranian politics since the revolution. I introduce a factional level of analysis and argue that political actors, be they incumbents or challengers, employ a diverse range of religious ideologies to capture the state through various means, including generating mass mobilization and preventing elite defections. I begin with an overview of the literature on the role of religion in politics before examining the rationalist and constructivist explanations of ideological change.
Religion: A Sticky Model or a Plastic Tool?
Religion may be considered divine and immutable, but its interpretation is fluid and subject to human susceptibility to fear and greed. Religious symbols and narratives may solve what Max Weber called the massesâ âproblem of meaning,â4 but they can also help elites overcome the collective action problem.5 These âcultural subsystemsâ may be a âblueprintâ for action as well as a âmodel ofâ and âmodel forâ reality.6 They can also be manipulated by elites who seek to challenge the givenness of one political order and give meaning to another. In other words, religious ideology is what elites make of it.
This tension between the devout yet utility-maximizing masses and the elites has shaped much of the primordialist, constructivist, and rationalist studies of religion and ethnicity in recent decades. Going beyond âthick description,â scholars have endeavored to wed nonmaterial factors with positivist methodology to arrive at generalizable conclusions. Ann Swidler analyzes culture as a âtool kitâ and an independent variable that shapes action.7 David Laitin looks at how an externally imposed hegemony determines which cultural subsystems, including religion, will be politically salient and thus used instrumentally by elites.8 Lisa Wedeen conceptualizes culture as meaning-making practices that âproduce observable political effectsâ such as compliance.9 Sheri Berman traces how different âprogrammatic beliefsâ resulted in diverging institutions and polities in Europe after World War I.10 Even scholars who ignored ideational factors were forced to make theoretical adjustments in reaction to real-world events. Theda Skocpol, facing criticism in the aftermath of the Iranian Revolution of 1979âthe very year her book, States and Social Revolutions, was publishedâstruggled to explain why her theory could not account for an urban-based movement that toppled a strong state whose fifth-mightiest army in the world remained intact.11 Although Skocpol had initially dismissed any role for ideology, she later conceded that âIslam was both organizationally and culturally crucial to the making of the Iranian Revolution against the Shah.â12
In the four decades since the Iranian Revolution and more recently, particularly after the September 11 attacks in 2001, a new wave of studies has emerged to examine the âresurgenceâ of religion. Many scholars and policymakers have sought to account for the role of ideology but have gone to the other extreme, perceiving religious actors (from the Islamic Republic of Iran to the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) as primarily driven by doctrines and dedicated to replacing the international order with their own divine outlook. They argue that religious groups pursue interests and goals constitutively different from those the rest of the world has seen. These scholars strive to unearth the roots of each groupâs actions from its doctrinal claims and theological rhetoric to explain its resilience and success. In other words, what scholars claim is often similar to what these groups claim about themselves.
Even rationalist and institutionalist studies often view actors as constrained or motivated by institutionalized doctrines. Daniel Philpott posits that institutional differentiation and long-held political theology are the two independent variables that explain why some actors resort to violence while others pursue democratic goals.13 Monica Toft argues that civil wars in the Muslim world are particularly violent because âIslam has Jihad.â14 Elites outbid each other by manipulating the built-in violent elements of religion; thus, âreligion often leads to uncompromising demands.â15 Despite their differences, these explanations take ideational factors as exogenous. Political elites use ideas that are available to them rather than crafting their own. There is an inherent limitation in âavailableâ ideas, this literature postulates: â[e]ven given some liberty in translation over time, religious texts and interpretations circumscribe the conduct of followers in important ways.â16
These works focus on the restrictive and yet explanatory power of culture, religion, or ideologyâhow they produce different institutions or regime types, contribute to their survival, or mobilize the masses. But few scholars have traced the ideational implications and consequences of these phenomena. If religion was a cause of the Iranian Revolution and later contributed to one of the longest wars of the twentieth century with Iraq, did the revolution and war themselves shape Islamic narratives as well? Were the leaders of the revolution aware of the political utility of Islam? If yes, how did this self-awareness play into the Iranian politics during the revolution and war? Just as scholars are cognizant of the power of ideas, so are the actors on the ground.
It is precisely this reflexive step that many scholars do not account for: the agential power of political actors who intentionally develop and deploy ideas despite the limitations of their cultural toolkits and religious blueprints, as well as any structural or path-dependent obstacles. As Laitin points out, actorsâparticularly during times of crisisâmove away from ready-made cultural tools toward strategic calculations.17 In other words, increased âuncertainty breeds rationalityâ18 and induces further ideological shifts. Consider Iranian activists, such as Ali Shariati and Ayatollah Khomeini, who turned Shiâa Islam from a passive and quietist religion to a revolutionary ideology in the 1970s. Of the Twelve Shiâa Imams, only one revolted against an oppressive ruler in the seventh century. The rest (with the exception of the Hidden Imam, who is presumed to be in occultation19 since 941 A.D.) remained silent and even made peace with an unjust caliph. Yet Iranian Islamists turned the anomaly (Imam Hosseinâs uprising) into a rule, providing a revolutionary reading of Islam that appealed to the population at large in 1979. It is this level of analysis that forces us to study ideas as a variable shaped by goal-oriented actors to bring about structural transformations. In contrast to what Berman demonstrates in the postâWorld War I European cases20âin which ideas predict actorsâ choices even when the political environment shiftsâideational factors did not automatically dictate actorsâ choices in Iran. Rather, ideologies themselves changed in response to the available strategic options and were effectively deployed to generate the desired institutional outcomes.
Ideationist theories become even more problematic when analyzing the post-Khomeini order, both internally and internationally. They do not adequately explain why Khomeiniâs disciples split and arrived at diametrically opposed ideological destinations. Why did the radical Islamists who occupied the U.S. embassy and brought down the nationalist Provisional Government in 1979 become avid proponents of democracy and rapprochement with the United States two decades later? Why did the conservatives who initially advocated more pragmatic foreign and economic policies later adopt their radical leftist rivalsâ anti-Americanism? Some scholarsâ responses to these questions often revolve around intellectual learning processes at critical junctures as a result of new experiences.21 Social constructivists maintain that elitesâ preferences are driven by their ideational exposures,22 asserting that it is the content of their cognitions, exogenous to material features, that influence their actions. Political actorsâ cognitive systems remain stable even when their material interests change. Iranian radicals matured after the revolution, learned from the negative experience of the IranâIraq War, and transformed after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the âend of history,â so the argument goes. They went back to school, studied liberal philosophy, delved into a democratic literature, and thus put aside their revolutionary excesses, emerging as reformists. But several empirical questions remain unanswered. What explains the variation in the learning processes? All political factions were exposed to similar aforementioned systemic experiences (i.e., the IranâIraq War) and ideasâwhy did only some âlearnâ while others did not? In fact, the conservatives âun-learnedâ and âun-moderated,â even though they were immersed in the same political environment. While in some cases ideas may predict an actorâs choices even when the political environment shifts,23 I argue that actors also craft specific ideas targeting the available choices, particularly when circumstances on the ground change. The same actors develop dissimilar ideas when positioned in a different environment. In other words, the strategic options available to political actors in a given context predict their ideological dispositions.
Ideationist and Rationalist Explanations of âModerationâ
In recent years, rationalist scholars of ethnic politics have incorporated analytical tools from the constructivist literature to study ethnicity as a consequence, not a cause, of political violence. Rejecting primordialist views, they argue that while ethnicity has no explanatory power for ethnic violence, the social construction of ethnicity does. Bringing constructivism into a rational choice framework, James Fearon and David Laitin point out a path in which intergroup rivalry may lead to redefining the boundaries and content of the ethnicity and the construction of antagonistic ethnic identities.24 In this context, the construction of ethnic identity is merely strategic. Similarly, Stathis Kalyvas shows how incumbent states encourage rebel defections by manipulating and adding new political dimensions to ethnic identities. He focuses on the âidentity consequences of civil warâ and demonstrates the âmultidirectional empirical prediction (i.e., toward both hardening and softening of ethnic identities).â25
This framework has yet to penetrate the study of religion and politics, particularly of the Middle East. Ironically, in his own work on religious parties, Kalyvas adheres to a strict rationalist perspective to explain what he considers a unidirectional and accidental outcome: religious âmoderation.â Referring to the European Christian Democrats in the nineteenth century, he argues that in reaction to electoral and nonelectoral institutional constraints, religious parties generally tend to move ...