On October 2, 2016, Hungary held a referendum on whether to accept European Union migration quotas and, in the context of a highly inflammatory anti-migrant campaign, the population voted overwhelmingly against accepting such quotas. During the course of the debate, Roman Catholic Bishop Béla Balás was asked how he would vote and responded that he would vote no “because I am Hungarian.” In essence, this captures one of the key dynamics of religion and politics in the former communist territories discussed in Religion and Politics in Post-Socialist Central and South Eastern Europe: Challenges since 1989, reflecting the ambiguity about whether churches and their leaderships are primarily religious, cultural, or national entities — not that these roles are mutually exclusive.
Ramet brings together a range of authors from within the region and beyond to consider a number of questions about the religion-politics relationship since the collapse of communism. Her introductory chapter sets out the key issues for consideration, starting with those relating to the changing nature of religion-state relations and the evaluation of past relationships with the communist state. Also discussed are questions relating to property restitution, religious education in schools, and the tolerance of “others,” whether religious, ethnic, or sexual. When communism collapsed across the Soviet bloc, all religious groups, but especially the traditionally dominant ones, faced a series of very similar challenges, including the physical rebuilding of plant and training of personnel, the tackling of popular religious indifference or ignorance after years of forced secularization, and establishing a role in the new social and political orders. And at the international level, in 1989 the pre-eminent religious leader was clearly Pope John Paul II who recognized the secularizing challenges that might come with liberalization and the fact that such religious renewal as there had been in late communist times was often fragile and likely to be threatened in a pluralist society. For that reason, he turned his attention to the “re-evangelisation” of Europe, perhaps unfairly characterized by Ramet as primarily about suppressing abortion, divorce, and gay rights — though for various reasons they did indeed become the headline issues. In her dissection of the Polish experience, where the church believed its role in undermining communism entitled it to a leading role, Ramet shows how a conservative church leadership and reactionary religious entrepreneurs opted for this interpretation in promoting an exclusive vision of Poland's Catholic future where the church exercised a moral guardianship over the wider society.
It is impossible here to do justice to all the contributions, but there are some interesting reflections by Milan Reban on the former Czechoslovakia, now divided into two states with very different religious trajectories. In the highly secularized Czech Republic, the Catholic Church recognized its limitations and is more cautious in its political interventions, while in Slovakia, where Catholic self-identification remains high, the Catholic hierarchy is more confident in its dealings with the state, even though there is some evidence of a rather “pick-and-mix” approach to religious teachings among the younger generation. Some essays have more to say about the communist era and collaborations with the state authorities that in turn have made dealing with past compromises something to be avoided, as in Hungary where, in 2005, the Catholic hierarchy issued a pastoral letter saying that there was no longer any need to look into the subject. The impact of history on neighboring states also comes out in Stan and Turcescu's essay on Romania and Bulgaria, where they note that the Romanian Orthodox Church's closer identification with nationalism has given it greater weight in seeking to influence domestic politics. Yet, as with other countries that joined the European Union, it has not always got its way in promoting values at odds with those promoted by the wide European project. Whether this will change with the rising populist surge across Europe remains to be seen.
A large section of the book is concerned with the former Yugoslavia, where violent conflict has added an extra dimension to religion-state relations. Several essays focus on questions of church and state, especially in Slovenia and Croatia where special agreements with the Vatican give the Catholic Church a degree of privilege within a context of constitutional equality of all faith. Other essays pick up on the added complications arising from the conflicts of the 1990s. Here religion became a powerful ethnic marker, and Janine Clark notes many religious actors stressing their own nation's role as victim, sometimes as religious victim, while some helped to demonize their religio-ethnic opponents. While there are some efforts at religion based reconciliation through ecumenical initiatives, these often lack the conviction that was put into earlier emphases on difference. The story told in some of these chapters is not a happy one, as some churches seek to ensure their dominance in the religious marketplace, impose their values on the wider society, or contribute to conflict. Against that, one might note that the focus here is primarily on hierarchies and institutions, and cannot take on board the “everyday” religious life of communities on the ground, with their focus on a range of activities from prayer to “good deeds.”
As is often the case with edited collections, one longs for a chapter that draws all the threads together, particularly one that locates them in wider debates on (post-) secularization and emerging discussions of the role of the state in structuring religious engagements in politics. Yet, Religion and Politics in Post-Socialist Central and South Eastern Europe is a book rich in empirical data and provocative insights that help us to make sense of the religious contribution to the story of these countries in the 25 years since the end of communist rule.
