What France can learn from US Black churches
In a new book about Black Christianity in America, Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. offers a lively portrait of an institution that has done as much to shape the character of the United States as it has for Black people themselves. The Black Church, he writes, is a story in three parts: “of a people defining themselves in the presence of a higher power”; “of their journey to freedom and equality in a land where power itself – and even humanity – for so long was (and still is) denied them”; and of the secular contributions to American culture, justice, and knowledge that were forged in its pews.
“It’s the place where we made a way out of no way,” Dr. Gates writes in “The Black Church: This is Our Story, This is Our Song.”
That history holds lessons not only for the U.S. of today but for Europe as well, especially in its relationship with Muslim minority communities. Most of those Muslims have roots in former European colonies, both Arab and African, and are struggling to find their place in societies that are dominantly Christian or secular – and that are often less than welcoming.
While the U.S. has seen progress for its minorities over decades, France, which is host to Europe’s largest Muslim population, has only begun to deal with its challenging issues with that minority group. Later this month the French Senate is expected to put the finishing touches on a bill that, while not explicitly mentioning Islam, is clearly designed to regulate its structure and practice in France. It includes a ban on online hate speech, restrictions on foreign funding for mosques, added regulations for home schooling, and a certification program for Islamic imams in France.
The bill emerged after attacks by Islamist extremists last October, including the beheading of a teacher for using cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad during a lesson on free speech. Critics see the bill as political pandering and deeply discriminatory. Islamophobia is already shaping debates ahead of regional elections in June and next year’s presidential election. A poll in January showed right-wing populist Marine Le Pen, a persistent opponent of Islam, trailing President Emmanuel Macron by just a few points.
Mr. Macron argues that the purpose of the bill is to reinforce his country’s unique tradition of secularism. He appears to have an unlikely ally. In France, freedom of religion means freedom from another person’s public practice of their faith. That ideal enjoys broad support among Muslims.
An Ipsos survey last year found that 81% of French Muslims had a positive view of secularism, 82% said they were proud to be French, and 77% said they had no trouble practicing Islam.
Moderate Muslim leaders argue the bill’s ban on foreign financing and influence will help French Muslims practice Islam in ways that are consistent with France’s secular principles. The important point, they argue, is to support change from within the mosque.
“Islam must be reformed, no longer political. It has to assume that the laws of the 7th century sharia are not valid in the 21st century,” argues Razika Adnani, a member of the Foundation for Islam of France. “The state cannot enter religious affairs, but it demands that Muslims reform their religion.”
Islam’s steady growth in Europe is forcing the Continent to adjust to the changing composition of its societies. Economic discrimination and racism against Muslims – one of the drivers of radicalization – require urgent remedies. As refuges for those who are marginalized, Europe’s mosques, like America’s Black churches, can be rich incubators for good – partners in the pursuit of a mutual accommodation and recognition of the dignity in everyone.
