International Day Commemorating the Victims of Acts of Violence Based on Religion or Belief: Populism, Religion, and Conflict
A blog by Japheth Monzon, BSWN Project Officer
The International Day Commemorating the Victims of Acts of Violence Based on Religion or Belief does not shift blame onto the content of religion and belief as inherently confrontational and violent, but it recognises that the adoption of religion and belief as primary motivators for violence against victims should be condemned and discouraged.
“We welcome the decision of the UN to designate 22 August as the international day to commemorate the victims of acts of violence based on religion or belief. This is a great opportunity to raise awareness about religious intolerance… [sic] violence and discrimination against anyone based on their religion or belief”
England & Wales itself enshrines protections for religion and belief through Section 10 of the Equality Act 2010. Such laws protect individuals who hold religious beliefs from discrimination, but it also protects individuals who do not hold particular religious beliefs. Such laws also extend to the protection of philosophical beliefs and certain sets of ideological values. But this begs the question: if such values are so well-established within legal regimes nationally and internationally, why is the International Day necessary?
The EDSA Philippine Revolution Against Dictatorship
In February 1986, thousands of Filipinos flocked to Epifanio de los Santos Avenue in Metropolitan Manila to protest against the martial law of President Ferdinand Marcos. Facing off against military forces, the Filipino movement found champions in the most unlikely of people.
Sister Porferia Ocariza – equally referred to as Pingping by her peers, a unique appellation similarly held by millions of other Filipinos – stood her ground as whispers of the novena left her trembling lips and the wooden beads of her rosary slipped one by one through her fingers as if counting down to an inevitable conclusion. To her left and her right were her fellow sisters of the Daughters of St. Paul, equally defiant in their stand against the tanks deployed against the people in their struggle against President Marcos’s martial law. Yet, as defiant as they stood, one would be remiss to state that they felt no fear.
“Lord, forgive me for all my sins and even the offenses of our Filipino people.”
Even at her Last Stand, all she could think about was the safety and security of her fellow man. Sister Pingping closed her eyes, held her breath, and waited. She was unsure as to what, but she knew there would be a moment of truth that would change the course of – not just her life – but the lives of thousands present during the EDSA Revolution of February 1986.
Expecting death, the Sisters released a sigh of relief as silence fell through the air. A metal lock could be heard unlatching from the top of the tank. Several men in combat fatigues, foot soldiers of the dictator, emerged from the metallic trap and planted their feet on the same ground as the People of the Philippines. With an air of hesitancy – unsure of how they would be received by their fellows – they approached the Sisters. And all at once, they began to pray.
Faith and Religious Belief (in all their complex interconnectivity) can be a force for both altruistic good and destructive corruption. But the ability to maintain one’s own faith and belief is integral to the societies we live in today. Article 9 of the European Convention on Human Rights enshrines the freedom of thought, conscience and religion within the rights available to individuals. This, of course, comes as a qualified right. A qualified right places certain limitations on one’s individual ability to exercise a given right in circumstances whereby the exercise infringes upon the rights of others – or if it comes at a heavy cost to the public interest.
Populism: The Politicisation and Polarisation of Religious Belief
The rise of Populism is not a new observable phenomenon, it is the continuation of a long tradition of the weaponising majority belief. 63% of Britons believe that the United Kingdom is in a ‘state of decline’. Sophia Gaston states that this longing for “nostalgia can become a more dangerous political force, and a more urgent phenomenon to study.” Indeed, references to the ‘Great’ British heritage, of the ‘West’, or ‘Western Civilisation’ are key instances of language being used to incite fear – “fear is fundamental, hope is reduced to instant gratification of visceral demand.” Pointing towards the ‘ideology’ of multiculturalism, of ideological ‘wokeness’ and the erosion of patriotism, the rights of Minoritised groups – some of whose ethnic identities are inextricable from their religious beliefs – are at stake. The proposal for the new ‘Bill of Rights’ – essentially replacing the robust protections provided by the European Convention of Human Rights with lacklustre rights protections rendered unserviceable by Courts – aims to capitalise on this growing fear. On Remembrance Day, the Bishop of Hanover made a hauntingly true statement that is applicable to the current predicament faced by society: “Civilisation is thin, the order is fragile, and chaos waits for a crack to appear.”
Indeed, the religious beliefs of Black and Minoritised individuals are side-lined for the belief of the majority. Such a double standard is most pertinent in the recent overturning of the Roe v Wade decision, whereby United States federal protection for an individual’s right to abortion has been ruled unlawful. Whilst a black-letter analysis of the judicial decision reveals no reference to Christian-centric rationales, it would be unwise to state that the religious beliefs of the Supreme Court Justices had no part to play in this blatant dissolution of the separation between Church and State. In fact, Supreme Court Justice Amy Coney Barrett played a part in the creation of a fellowship that aims to impose Christian Law on the United States of America – disregarding the beliefs of others such as ethnically Jewish Americans who are permitted the process of abortion through Talmudic law. Indeed, experts state that this could lead to an influx of pregnancies among individuals who cannot afford to support themselves and their children, with Black and Minoritised individuals impacted the hardest.
By far the most troubling aspect of this phenomenon is that those who perpetuate violence based on religion and belief believe that they are “the populist saviours of the people,” standing alone in the defence of Democracy. This is a stark contrast to the utilisation of religion and belief as a bulwark against violence demonstrated by Sister Porferia Ocariza in the 1980s Philippines. Dichotomies such as this demonstrate that it is not the religion or belief that is dangerous, but the individual wielding it. Instances like these also remind us that the commemoration of victims of violence based on religion or belief is not enough. Why must we wait for another person to fall victim to violent rhetoric? Why must we be reactive?
We must speak out against instances of nascent violent rhetoric – both those espoused by the religious and those espoused by the non-religious – targeted against the Other, and targeted against Us.