Jürgen Habermas Jürgen Habermas

Above: Jürgen Habermas as a young man

Right: Jürgen Habermas at an event
celebrating his 80th birthday

Jürgen Habermas

By Peter Gordon
The New Republic, December 2011

Edited by Andy Ross

In October 2001, the German philosopher Jürgen Habermas, then aged 72, started talking about religion. Habermas has never betrayed any sign of personal faith but his turn to religion amplifies philosophical and political themes that have preoccupied him for many years.

Habermas was a philosopher in the Hegelian tradition of Western Marxism. He was raised on the insights of the Frankfurt School and his teachers were Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer. But he eventually concluded that his teachers had backed themselves into a corner with their totalizing critique of reason as such. He abandoned the revolutionary ambitions and shabby apologetics that brought Marxism into disrepute and made his peace with European social democracy.

Habermas was a young man in postwar West Germany. In a 1992 book he described how Enlightenment intellectuals and critics developed a practice of public debate that would become the core feature of Western democracy. He argued that the reality of property exclusions meant that bourgeois practice always contradicted this ideal. In his magnum opus, The Theory of Communicative Action (1981), Habermas tried to show how the structure of human language promises mutual understanding and a rational consensus that can serve as the basis for a truly democratic polity.

Habermas had wrestled for years with the classic theorists Weber and Durkheim in the sociology of religion. Habermas saw that as reason expands its reach, the contents of our religious heritage must undergo a trial of rationalization. The ideas that were once considered beyond scrutiny must be refashioned into propositional claims that are susceptible to criticism. His new work on religion is built upon a formidable bedrock of preparatory theory in both the philosophy and the sociology of religion.

In his Frankfurt speech in 2001, Habermas was keen to offer words of moderation. One month after 9/11, the Bush administration had rushed to a rhetoric of a crusading war on terror. Habermas: "If we want to avoid a clash of civilizations, we must keep in mind that the dialectic of our own occidental process of secularization has not yet come to a close." The task of understanding religious violence would have to be a collective effort.

The task is urgent for European democracies that confront the challenge of cooperation within increasingly multicultural and multireligious societies. The challenge of this new situation is not easily managed, but it is easily manipulated and has provoked waves of xenophobic backlash.

Some conservatives in Europe continue to believe that Christianity is a necessary component of modern civilization. Many theorists of democracy regard the secular Enlightenment as a precondition for the rise of democratic institutions, but some conservative political theorists blame overzealous secularization for the rise of Nazism as a new kind of paganism.

Habermas meets the conservative critics halfway. He sees streams of religious instruction that nourish the modern age. The idea of a sharp break may also prevent us from acknowledging sources of guidance for secular modernity. Habermas disagrees with proponents of thoroughgoing secularization who seem intent upon denying religion any role in politics whatsoever. He accepts that monotheistic religion may furnish moral insights that can be useful to secular democracies. The West has been shaped by a continuous philosophical appropriation of "semantic contents" from the Judeo-Christian tradition.

Habermas claimed that with the rationalization of our collective discourse, the authority of the holy could be "gradually replaced" by the authority of an achieved consensus. The language was unapologetic in its rationalism and seemed consonant with the belief that religion was destined to disappear once its contents were spent. But now Habermas prefers to speak of translation as the only mode of "nondestructive secularization" whereby modern society might salvage the moral feelings that "only religious language has as yet been able to give a sufficiently differentiated expression".

The idea of translation works well in the context of modern democracy where we need to provide reasons for the policies we advocate. Yet these reasons cannot presuppose that everyone shares the same metaphysical vision of reality. In a multicultural democracy we must submit to a relativization of moral vision. I must be willing to back up my claims with reasons that all other citizens could recognize as at least potentially binding no matter what they may believe. This is the price of democracy.

This requirement seems to place an unequal burden on religious members of a society, but Habermas tries to present the task of translation as a reciprocal learning process in which burdens are symmetrical. He dresses up the unidirectionality of translation to promote a more favorable vision of reciprocity. This may be diplomatic but it does not reflect his deeper commitment to reason.

What Habermas used to call the "linguistification of the sacred" he now calls translation. The theory of translation is essentially a theory of secularization mapped onto democratic discourse. Perhaps there is nothing in religion that requires translation. Habermas acknowledges that religious rituals and practices appear to have no obvious secular counterpart.

Habermas observes that in our ethical reasoning we provide justification in the language of universalistic concepts that presuppose the freedom of the individual. But to act on our insight into the solidarity of the human collective we may need more than good reasons. Habermas says profane reason "loses its grip on the images, preserved by religion, of the moral whole — of the Kingdom of God on Earth — as collectively binding ideals."

Habermas was not endorsing religion and condemning reason. He risked serious misunderstanding when he talked about what is missing, with the apparent implication that for secular reason what is missing is God. What is missing is the unity of a world reconciled with itself, a world that is rational not merely in promise but also in substance. Habermas meant that reason is too fallible to dismiss the possibility that religious traditions may still be of value.

Habermas suggests that in a democracy one should not exclude from the public sphere any religious culture whose normative insights admit of translation. But religious citizens must submit to the reciprocal game of public critique.
 

AR  Peter E. Gordon is Amabel B. James Professor of History at Harvard University. His original essay is much wordier and more nuanced than the short cut I present here. My apologies for any distortion.