New Book: On the Ambivalence of Religion and Protest

What is the biggest misconception when it comes to protest? 

Matthew Ryan Robinson: In most cases, protest is not the same thing as revolution. Rather, it is a form of reform action and not an attempt at revolutionary overthrow. And protest is multifaceted, a fact that is easily lost sight of in the daily news. Protest does not just mean demonstrating in the streets. A social media post, sharing it, or choosing to remain silent—these are all facets of protest.

 Even if it doesn’t lead to a revolution in the end, it is often driven by a desire for change. What are the conditions for effective protest that brings about real change?

That’s a difficult question, and my answer may oversimplify things somewhat. Solidarity and cooperation are important prerequisites. It’s hard to protest alone. Greta Thunberg’s initial protest in front of the Swedish Parliament, for example, confirms this point. Her cause had a perspective of solidarity from the very beginning: she wasn’t sitting there for herself, but for the whole world, for all people, and for the planet.

Thus, protests that have the potential to mobilize other groups and other faith communities toward a greater goal – even if they do not share a common religious belief or idea – often have a greater impact. In the book, we call this observation “Horizontal Solidarity.”

When it comes to social change, churches aren’t necessarily the first contributor that comes to mind today. What potential does religion – and the church – have for protest today?

The starting point for our anthology Sacred Protest was the question of the ambivalent relationship between religion and protest. Religion can take different sides: Sometimes it reinforces existing power structures; other times, it provides the motivation and strength to get the protest off the ground in the first place.

Christian churches, in particular, are generally rather conservative institutions. That is also how they see themselves. Reform movements within the churches typically arise on the fringes and are often viewed critically. The religious figure of the prophet as a herald of change is interesting in this context: There is a marked increase in the last half-century or so in churches describing their work and their calling as “prophetic” – not in the sense of predicting the future, but in connection with social movements and social change. (This is a semantic shift, since historically the “prophetic” work of the church had more to do with the teaching office.) In my view, the prophet is not a persuasive label for many churches. Anyone who acts prophetically questions the status quo and takes risks, and it is not always clear that the major churches are ready to take drastic risks – at least not at the higher levels of leadership. If they wanted to see themselves as prophetic, they would have to be a bit more willing to stand in opposition to the halls of power.

You just mentioned the figure of the prophet. Many protest movements draw on such religious semantics. Does that always turn the protest into a form of sacred protest—even if the participants do not see themselves as religious at all? 

On the one hand, there are protests that explicitly see themselves as religious and deliberately draw on religious figures, forms of protest, or imagery. These could perhaps be described as “sacred protests.”

What’s interesting are the cases where that’s not at all the intention. In our anthology, for example, Henry Jansen examines protest songs like John Lennon’s Imagine: While explicitly anti-religious, the song simultaneously envisions a paradise within a universal human community – a vision of the good from a metaethical perspective shared by the world’s major religious traditions. That is why I would argue that even such forms of protest, despite having different intentions, represent a kind of sacred protest. 

Many such ideas of community and change are also negotiated digitally today. You mentioned at the beginning that even a social media post can be a form of protest. How do you assess such digital forms of protest, which often also serve the purpose of self-promotion?

Let’s take the topic of awareness. Over the past two decades, Western societies have been focused on shaping a new consciousness – a  kind of self-awareness – as a rhetorical key to social self-identification. Here, mere communication has had a real impact on society, influencing institutions, laws, and the legal system, and shaping the norms and values that guide them. This can be understood as a form of protest, regardless of whether it involved a product, activism, or self-promotion. 

Where have such effects been particularly evident?

I’m thinking of movements like #MeToo or Black Lives Matter in the U.S. Identification with these movements often took place through hashtags or T-shirts. There were books on the subject, debates, and documentaries. This “awareness creation” of the past decades is interesting as a deliberately adopted form of protest. While the intentional development of critical awareness is not new, the fact that it functions as a form of protest can be seen as an interesting innovation. It is also interesting, however, how this type of “awareness protest” has now led to a critical backlash from “the system.” Diversity and social participation – the original demands of this movement – are now at the center of criticism in the U.S. This demonstrates how protest can set different sides in motion.

What role does academia play in such dynamics? Should it merely observe this development, or can it itself be part of protest and activism? 

This question actually preoccupies me greatly. From a religious studies perspective, one would always say that academia should observe, not intervene. On the other hand, theology is often suspected per se of not being a science, but rather a kind of religion, activism, or ideology.

I take a middle ground: Scientific analysis requires both participant observation and observant participation in order to cultivate empathy for people – their life stories, goals, and hopes – and thereby better understand them. Of course, this does not mean joining in or agreeing with every opinion.

As a side note, an international comparison might be interesting in this context: In the U.S., the relationship between activism and science is often viewed much more positively than in Germany. 

Last but not least: Do you have any unanswered questions about the topic of protest that you’d like to explore next?

I’m interested in the question of how susceptible protest movements are to external manipulation. The book includes a chapter on Conspiritualities. Especially where conspiracy theories, spirituality, and political mobilization intersect, there are still open research questions. Incidentally, this also applies to the role of digital technology in protest. On the one hand, there is great potential for effective networking among a wide variety of groups around the world; on the other hand, everything online is only possible as long as it is permitted. This tension between possibilities and dependencies interests me greatly. 

Thank you very much for the interview!