The Multiple Intersections of Religion, Labour, and Class

This is the second of a two-part series by Dr Joerg Riger, Vanderbilt University. Part One can be found in our October issue. Used by permission of Wipf and Stock Publishers, www.wipfandstock.com.

Religion, and the Abrahamic traditions in particular, can provide a broader perspective for labour and the labour movement. Note that refusing to address religion does not mean it will stop interfering with labour and wither away; it means that religion will be used in service to the dominant powers and the corporations, as it often is.17

In many of the Abrahamic religious traditions, the view from the perspective of working people is not only enlightening, but indispensable. For example, the legacy of Moses, shared in different ways by Judaism, Christianity, and Islam cannot be conceived without his solidarity with the Hebrew slaves in Egypt. The liberation from Egypt is deeply anchored in all three Abrahamic traditions. The legacy of Jesus cannot be conceived without his solidarity with working people of his own time and which drew the ire of status quo religion. The legacy of Muhammad is likewise tied to a concern for the wellbeing of the working people of his time, many of whom were being defrauded in the transition from a tribal to a mercantile society where traders gathered substantial fortunes at the expense of the masses. Core religious holidays of the Abrahamic religions may demonstrate what is at stake. Judaism’s celebration of the Passover, for instance, is an annual reminder of the liberation from slavery in Egypt. Few other religious rituals are as strongly grounded in an act of liberation. This liberation is not merely a spiritual matter but affects everything, including economics, politics, community, and personal relationships. The Passover begins with the Seder, a ritual meal during which the story of the exodus from Egypt is retold. If religion is understood in terms of people’s daily lives, it is not hard to see the many connections of this struggle to the struggle of working people today. Exploitation and oppression are still real-life experiences, as are stories of liberation. These connections are made explicit today especially in the so-called “Labour Seders” organised by the Jewish Labour Committee, which serve as reminders that the struggle for liberation is ongoing. The following parallels between ancient times and today are highlighted: persecution, oppressive taskmasters, impossible work demands, work quotas, and a struggle for freedom.18

In Christian traditions, Christmas is a holiday deeply connected with work and labour. In the birth of Christ, God chose to become a day labourer in construction who would have known the realities of labour first- hand. This arrangement was certainly not the most advantageous for the spread of any dominant religious message, and so it appears to be more than a historical accident. Why make a spectacular announcement of this birth to lower working-class shepherds—sending the heavenly choir of angels no less—rather than to the upper crust of the country, including the high priests and the vassal kings (Luke 2:7–10)? The symbols of Christmas, including shepherds and sheep, are not romantic adornments of a mystical event. They serve as reminders of God’s unflinching solidarity with working people. And so it appears that even the angels join in solidarity with working people. In this spirit, the common critiques of consumerism leveled around Christmastime need to be redirected: rather than blaming consumers, what about challenging those who fuel consumerism?

Illustration of slave raiding in Southern Sudan in the 19th century. The sorrow and hope of the Egyptian Sudan; a survey of missionary conditions and methods of work in the Egyptian Sudan. Artwork by Watson, Charles R. (Charles Roger), 1873-1948

In Islam, the month of Ramadan mandates fasting, observed for twenty-nine or thirty days in a row, from dawn to sunset. Ramadan is the commemoration of the first revelation of the Qur’an given to the prophet Muhammad and a time of increased self-discipline, prayer, and charity (the latter two are added to fasting, resulting in three of the five pillars of Islam). One interpretation of fasting during Ramadan is that it helps the faithful experience what it might feel like to be poor and to be in solidarity with the poor. Empathy and support for the poor is not merely another moral commandment in Islam—it is tied to the heart of faith because it reflects the will of God. Muslims continue to work during Ramadan, as balance between worship and work is encouraged by the Prophet, yet the celebration of Ramadan can inspire resistance to the capitalist ethos of limitless growth and the infinite accumulation of profits.19

The celebrations of Passover, Christmas, and Ramadan each teach important lessons about God’s solidarity with exploited working people, through acts of liberation from enslavement (Passover), acts of identification with the working class (Christmas), and acts of solidarity with the poor and resistance to limitless profit (Ramadan). Moreover, these three major religious celebrations can provide safe spaces for exploring alternative ways of life both in the imagination and in practice. In the rituals of Passover, Christmas, and Ramadan, religion is public, pushing beyond the narrow boundaries of what is commonly considered the “sacred” and working towards the transformation of the world. The solidarity with and among working people that develops here is strengthened rather than undercut by the diversity of religious expression and—by the same token—reminds us of the necessity to incorporate the related struggles along the lines of race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality. The result is a move from minority politics to a different kind of majority politics, where the majority can resist exploitation and oppression while maintaining its diversity.

Justice

One of the key theological terms in the Abrahamic religions is justice, even though this is often overlooked or even repressed. Even working people seem to identify religion with charity rather than justice. The notion of justice in the Abrahamic traditions contradicts the meaning of justice in capitalist societies. According to capitalist economist Fried- rich von Hayek, for instance, justice is defined as “the fair and impartial application of legal, moral and perhaps customary rules.”20 One of the fundamental premises of capitalism is that all participants in the market are equal. This is evidently not the case, however, in the real world. There is a substantial difference between large and small participants in the market, as the largest corporations have a significantly stronger position than smaller corporations or even workers. The key problem is that justice defined as fairness is unable to deal with situations of grave power differentials. Alternative perspectives on justice emerge from those who lack power in the current situation, like workers, small business owners, and the growing masses of those who cannot find a job or who lack job security. Here is a significant parallel to the Abrahamic religious traditions, which also derive

17 “When people experience sociopsychological strain, but lack the cultural or theological resources to make sense of it, they turn to the predominant ideology” (Bloomquist, Dream Betrayed, 47). 18 See the concerns expressed in the Jewish Labour Committee Passover Haggadah, Third Edition: Spring 2002. On the web: https://org2.salsalabs.com/o/5483/imag- es/onlinehaggadah2014.pdf/. See also Jews United for Justice (http://jufj.org/content/ labour-seder), now also augmented by a Social Justice Seder and a Racial Justice Seder 19 See, for instance, Ramadan, Radical Reform, 239. 20 Hayek, Fatal Conceit, 116–17.

from the perspective of people under pressure. In these traditions, God is not neutral like Lady Justice, the Roman goddess who is traditionally portrayed with a blindfold, and a pair of scales and a sword in each hand. In situations of grave power differentials, divine neutrality amounts not to justice but to injustice. As Farid Esack, a South African Muslim liberation theologian has pointed out, neutrality or objectivity in the context of oppression is a sin according to the Qur’an.21

In the Jewish traditions on which Christianity and Islam are building, justice means not being neutral but being in solidarity with those who experience injustice and taking the sides of those who have been marginalised and excluded from the community. In many texts of the Hebrew Bible, for instance, justice refers to a covenant, that is, to a relationship between God and humanity initiated by God. This relationship is expressed in terms of God’s faithfulness, which implies God’s special concern for those pushed to the margins and excluded by some who are under the mistaken impression that their way of life is favoured by God (or who simply don’t care).22 In the New Testament, Jesus often takes the sides of the oppressed over and against the oppressors (see, for instance, his biting critique of dominant groups like the ones made up by certain Pharisees in Matt 23:1–36). In Islam, the Qur’an expresses a similar concern when it gives the following advice: “And if two factions among the believers should fight, then make settlement between the two. But if one of them oppresses the other, then fight against the one that oppresses un- til it returns to the ordinance of Allah (49:9).”23 In sum, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all share special concerns for the oppressed. What the Abrahamic notions of justice have in common is their focus on community and solidarity, the latter a term that resonates with the labour movement. The Hebrew verb sdq (to be just) means to be faithful to the community that was established by the covenant with God.24 The Greek term dikaiosyne (justice or righteousness) as used in the New Testament, also reflects this emphasis on communal relationship, and justice tends to include both the relations between human beings and the relation to God.25 In Islam, likewise, justice (the Arab terms for justice, quist and ‘[set ayin]adl, are used interchangeably in the Qur’an) is defined in relation to the divine (as a witness to Allah)26 and has implications for how people treat each other (Qur’an 4:135). As Jewish scholar Aryeh Cohen points out from a Rabbinic Jewish perspective, the fundamental problem is the unequal relationship between worker and employer, which is never merely a private matter since the community has an interest in it as well.27 In sum, the restoration of relationships with the oppressed is not merely another social issue or the moral consequence of religion; rather, the quality of religion itself, and the quality of the relationship with the divine, is closely tied to the restoration of relationships among the people. These insights are helpful in various ways. First, rather than talking about justice in terms of a grand idea, particular experiences of injustice and power have to be examined. Who wins and who loses in a particular situation? What would it take to turn things around in this particular relationship? Note that notions of fairness and balance are unlikely to be strong enough to resist injustice that has become institutionalised, and so more engaged notions of justice are required. Second, injustice in relation to labour issues under capitalism is tied to the dramatic differences in the valuation of productivity. Working people, both blue and white collar, make hundreds of times less than upper-level managers. Is this really just? Wages cut precisely at a time when workers are becoming more productive all the time, how can this be justified? Justice in this case will lead to a revaluation of the productivity of workers and to a reconstruction of the class-based relationships between those who work and those who manage.

Third, justice that deals with the specific injustices experienced by working people requires rethinking solidarity in the face of distorted economic relations. The experience of economic pressures tend to weld together people who differ along the lines of race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality. The labour movement cannot function without such solidarity, and neither can religion. Religious people could be ahead of the game if they realise that distortions of economic relations—class struggle waged not from the bottom but from the top—are central issues in the sacred texts of the Tanakh, Bible, and Qur’an, not merely as a social or ethical issues, but also in terms of the distortion of our relations to each other and to the divine.

21 Esack, Qur’an, Liberation and Pluralism, 106. 22 See, for example, Marshall, Beyond Retribution. 23 Qur’an 49:9, Sahih International Translation, on the web at Quran.com. 24 Koch, “sdq, gemeinschaftstreu/heilvoll sein.” 25 Lührmann, “Gerechtigkeit III.” 26 Esack, Qur’an, Liberation and Pluralism,103. 27 Cohen, Justice in the City, 120, 123. 28 See, for example, the Occupy Wall Street movement, where 1 percenters did in fact join the 99 percent: http://westandwiththe99percent.tumblr.com/. 29 The critique of idolatry is one of the central concerns of Ellis, Toward a Jewish Theology of Liberation, 163–76, 205, developed in conversation with Christian libera- tion theologies. 30 Dabashi, Islamic Liberation Theology, 254.

These reflections on justice point to one of the most interesting convergences between the traditions of labour and the Abrahamic religions: an understanding of the need to take sides in situations of injustice and grave power differentials. Taking sides does not have to mean narrow partisanship or mindless radicalism, it means to support the wellbeing of the 99 percent who have to work for a living starting with those at the very bottom, leaving open the possibility that the 1 percent at the top will see the light and join in this project as well. Some may consider it impossible for 1 percenters to take sides and join the movement, but this has happened time and again.28

The labour movement’s tradition of taking sides has waxed and waned through the decades. Many working people today assume that taking sides is unnecessary and that it is possible to make everybody happy. As a result, they try to please the company by working extra hard, giving up vacation, and never speaking up, while hoping for the best. On the whole, however, the fortunes of working people are hardly on the rise, and individuals will never be able to balance the growing inequality of power. Even representatives of labour unions have at times forgotten that it is necessary to take sides, instead searching for middle roads between workers and employers. Yet, as the Abrahamic religious traditions and the experiences of most working people in recent times, remind us, there is no safe middle ground.

In this situation, religion can provide some unexpected inspiration. As we have seen, in the Abrahamic traditions, God engages in the struggles of the world on the side of the oppressed, challenging the oppressors. Any god who sides with the dominant powers is an idol and not the God of Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad.29 This insight is expressed in different ways. In Islam, God’s Otherness is a central theme.30 This means that God is not envisioned in terms of human beings. In Judaism and Christianity, on the other hand, God is often portrayed as a worker, although there are also Jewish and Christian traditions where God is seen as different from humanity. The parallels, however, should not be over- looked: in all three religions, God is not easily envisioned in terms of the ruling class, although efforts to domesticate God in this way start in the sacred texts themselves.

Child labour in Bangladesh. “I was going to picnic at Bichanakandi by boat. near the picnic spot i have seen him carrying stones. his owner was standing beside the river. that is how some of childs survive and struggle for food.” Photo by Rana Roy.

Hazardous child labour, mines and quarry - Young boys carrying bricks on their head. They work for a brickyard employing children at the entrance of Antsirabe, Madagascar. Photo by © ILO/M.CROZET.

Some of the Jewish and Christian images of God as worker can help us deepen these insights. God is envisioned, for instance, as construction worker, builder, craftsman, metal worker, potter, or garment maker. The latter two images also challenge gender stereotypes because in the early history of Israel these were mostly the work of women. God is also envisioned as gardener or farmer, watering plants and sowing. God is depicted as shepherd, and sheep herding is common in all three Abrahamic religions as a marginal and less valued job. Elsewhere, God is spoken of as a tentmaker—a profession that was looked down upon by Greek and Roman elites.31 These images can help us value work and workers more, encouraging us to take sides in particular with those among the working 99 percent who are often discounted and belittled.

In Islam, the need to take the side of the oppressed is equally clear. In the Qur’an 4:75, the faithful are asked this question: “And what is [the matter] with you that you fight not in the cause of Allah and [for] the oppressed among men, women, and children who say, ‘Our Lord, take us out of this city of oppressive people and appoint for us from Yourself a protector and appoint for us from Yourself a helper?’” The divine cause is to take sides in the fight against oppression, and the faithful are expected to be part of it. This fight is not a minor matter. Khali Ur Rehman, Chairman of the All Pakistan Federation of Labour, argues that Islam helps us understand that exploitation and usurpation are the causes of all of the world’s problems.32

God-talk shifts sides here. Too often have dominant religions claimed God to be on their side in order to shore up their power. Labour can learn from these mistakes, but one might wonder whether working people are committing the same mistakes when they claim that God is on their side? History shows that we should not presuppose too quickly that God supports certain causes over others. Nevertheless, not discussing where God is found does not solve the problem, as those who refuse to take sides altogether typically endorse the dominant status quo without being aware of it. From the Abrahamic traditions one might learn that neutrality is not an option, as any vacuum will quickly be filled by the dominant forces—even when it comes to God-talk and certainly when it comes to movement politics. Third, the Abrahamic traditions insist that God is at work in the world, in places where we least expect it. That God is working alongside working people is significant, even though it does not mean that working people own God or control God. There are lessons here for the labour movement that will need to be explored further.

Conclusions

At a time when the future of religion is open, the future of the labour movement is open as well. Neither religion nor labour should be limited to particular organisations. If religion is the quest for something bigger that we cannot control as individuals or institutions, so is labour. It might be argued that everybody who works for a living is part of labour in some form or fashion—expanding the notion of the working class—even though not everybody realises this and even though the current legal situation in the United States obscures this. It is no surprise that labour unions, like most religious institutions, are hesitant to challenge the dominant system. It is much easier to critique moral or legal transgressions, including wage theft, unfair labour

practices, or clear violations of safety regulations; easier also to denounce malpractice in business like embezzlement or noncompliance. The fundamental problem in capitalism, however, is not moral or legal transgressions or malpractice; the problem is that corporations are responsible for the maximisation of profits. As a result, they are accountable only to their stockholders and not to their workers. And a time-honoured way to maximise profits is to cut working people’s wages and benefits, and to reduce whatever power they might have over themselves and their work. This now happens even in organisations like universities, churches, and community groups that were once considered off limits. In this climate, labour and religion have the potential to become allies in dealing with these systemic issues, and their futures depend on how well they are able do this. At the same time, labour and religion can become allies in very practical matters. Labour can help religious people understand the importance of organizing, which is essential because religious communities will hardly change from the top down. But neither will labour. Religion also has ways to get people involved. In what seems to be a surprising turn, studies have found that “religious organisations are three to four times more likely to mobilise a person politically than a union.”33 This is not about party politics but about joining the struggle for the common good. Moreover, in both labour and religious communities working people are able to prove themselves in leadership roles: they can practice public speaking, preside over meetings, and negotiate with official representatives, developing civic skills and technique. This development of skills and technique needs to be tied to a deeper awareness of why all of this is derive important, not limited to the mind but incorporating the heart and bodies as well. This is what religion can do, and what it has done throughout the ages. In the United States, neither the abolitionist movement, nor the Civil Rights movement, and not even the labour movement can be envisioned without the contributions of religion and its abilities to shape people holistically.

The most important issue of all, however, is the question of power. Too often, both in past history and at present, leaders in both labour and religion assume that there is only one sort of power that will be successful, namely dominant power that operates from the top down. Some have wielded such power very well and with great success. The problem is, however, that in these cases both labour and religion often assimilated to the status quo. Union leaders, clergy, and even images of God adapted to the model of the powerful CEO. In these cases, both labour and religion gained power by giving up the ability to challenge dominant systems and to make a real difference.

As we have seen, many strands of the Abrahamic religious traditions promote alternative images of power. In these traditions, the true leaders do not shape up in the image of the “strong man” (usually white and straight as well); rather, leaders shape up in relations of solidarity from within the working majority. This is true even for images of God, which need to be rethought from within the movement. Ultimately, the power of the people always differs from that of the elites, and both labour and religion may have a brighter future if they manage to embrace, pursue, and develop this sort of power. The good news—of labour and of religion—is that some of this is already happening.