RITE AND REASON: In France, is secularism a matter of principle or dogma?
I CONTINUE to be intrigued by the complicated profile of religion in French life. In an extensive survey conducted in 2007, 50 per cent of respondents identified themselves as Catholics but only 25 per cent of them also believed in God.
This is indeed bizarre but it may well be that for the 25 per cent of non-believers Catholicism may be a kind of civil religion. This term was used by Albert Camus to describe the French Algerians who acknowledged the role of the church at key moments in life (birth, marriage and death) and yet who were without commitment to the faith.
As is well known, the principle of laïcité (civic neutrality or non-confessionalism) excludes religion from any direct role in the civic sphere. Schools are the most dramatic site of conflict with regard to the application of this principle, with the prohibition on the wearing of Islamic headscarves and other conspicuous religious symbols being the most well-known manifestation of the principle.
Due, however, to the cultural ignorance of many people regarding religion, since 2005 the provision of information about religion as this arises in other school subjects has been mandatory. Yet the tradition of excluding religious issues from school runs very deep and it can be difficult for the religious dimension of culture to gain purchase in schools.
Whenever the subject of religion is broached, research suggests that teachers often feel a sort of unease. Teachers who are believers feel particularly apprehensive about touching on religious issues because they are concerned that they might be accused of proselytism.
The subject where religion is most explicitly dealt with is history and its presence in the curriculum of this subject has been established since well before the law of 2005.
In a memoir (Journal d’un Prof de Banlieu) on his experience as a student teacher of history, Jean-François Mondot shows how ingrained is the mindset that rejects any treatment of religious themes in schools.
Part of his remit is to teach the origins of Christianity and Islam and he finds the pupils reasonably interested and receptive.
Mondot is amused when he realises that the pupils assume that he must be very religious, otherwise he would not be teaching this subject-matter. The irony is that he is actually an absolute non-believer.
Despite the apparent interest of his pupils in the topics, he is disappointed with the responses to the examination questions that he sets them on the topic. For example, among the very confused answers is one explaining that the last meal that Jesus had with his disciples is called Ramadan.
His next negative experience is with two parents who came to challenge him for infringing the principles of secularism by dealing with religious subject-matter in class.
The two of them reluctantly accept Mondot’s explanation that it is part of the syllabus but warn him that he should not devote so much of the time allocated to teaching Islam. This suggests that there is another agenda in their response to what he is teaching.
His most disillusioning encounter is with his college of education. He submits as his research assignment an analysis of his experience teaching the section of the history programme on Islam. He is firmly rebuked for his confessional approach and for failing to maintain sufficient critical distance from the history of Islam.
The pupil-centred approach that he adopted is considered inappropriate. As a completely non-religious person, he is dismayed and angry with those whom he disparagingly refers to as the custodians of the temple of secularism/laïcité.
What was designed as a principle, he argues, has been turned by some people into a dogma. In their self-righteous zeal, dogmatic secularists have much in common with religious fundamentalists.
Dr Kevin Williams lectures in the Mater Dei Institute, Dublin