Saturday Book Review: Joe Canner

Joe Canner, who did a good series for us on the economic crisis, here turns to Lee Camp’s book and the Muslim relations at work in international peace.

For the past few weeks, Scot has been going through Who Is My Enemy?: Questions American Christians Must Face about Islam–and Themselves, by Lee C. Camp, and looking at the themes of pacifism and Just War Theory. The discussions on these posts have been spirited and informative. Another theme of Camp’s book that was only discussed incidentally has to do with the relationship between Christian and Muslim doctrines on war and on how Christians can build bridges with Muslims despite the poisoned environment that has existed since 9/11.

Questions for the post: What do you think of the contention that Christian and Islamic doctrines of war, as currently practices, are logically similar? How should Christians respond? What is your experience with building bridges with Muslims? What are some practical steps that we as individuals or as a church to encourage this?

Much of Camp’s book is based on the premise that the Christian views of war are a product of the same logic the underlies the corresponding Muslim views. His reason for making this point is to discourage Christians from looking down on Muslims because of a supposedly superior view on war. In order to make this point he examines the history of both religions with respect to their views on war. Based both on Jesus’ words and deeds, the early Christian church was marked by non-violence and a general aversion to military service. Similarly, the early years of Islam, while Mohamed was in Mecca, were marked by nonviolence, and Qu’ranic verses composed during that period reflect this. Camp rightly notes, however, that Mohamed’s non-violence was strategic, since he did not actually have the means to wage war. In contrast, he contends that the Christian aversion to war was principled; both the teaching of Jesus and of the early Church fathers required Christians not only to avoid violence but to actively combat injustice with sacrificial love of one’s enemy (107).

As we all know, however, once Mohamed moved to Medina and gathered enough resources, he started to retaliate against his persecutors. Nonetheless, Camp notes that even during this period the Qu’ran contains admonitions against offensive war, against killing non-combatants, and against prolonging war after enemy surrender. Similarly, once Christians had access to the levers of power during the time of Constantine, it became necessary for Augustine to suggest some boundaries and regulations for war: what we now refer to as Just War Theory. This, Camp concludes, if we compare the early days of Christianity with the early days of Islam, we see that both were committed to non-violence, albeit for different reasons. Likewise, when both religions had the means to wage war, both developed doctrines designed to limit its extent. Unfortunately, both religions have seen periods throughout their histories in which the doctrines were not followed. Camp gives the Crusades, Native American genocide, Sherman’s March to the South, the Philippine-American War and the war in Iraq as but a few of many examples on the Christian side (chapter 11). And, of course, Muslim acts of terrorism, including 9/11 and suicide bombings in Israel, are well documented.

In addition to cautioning Christians against overselling the superiority of Christianity to Islam with respect to war theory, Camp suggests that we can learn from Muslims with respect to our understanding of the relationship between religion and the state. Camp notes that Americans have an impression regarding Muslims that they desire to turn America (and any other Western country in which they reside) into a theocracy. Americans believe that if Muslims would keep their religious beliefs private, just as Christians do, that everyone would get along just fine. He contends, however, that in so doing Christians have unwittingly ceded too much authority to the state. This has resulted throughout history in Christians waging war with other Christians because our loyalty to the state outweighs our responsibilities towards our fellow believers. Although Muslims are not immune to this problem, they tend in general to elevate their religious loyalty above their state loyalty and cannot understand how Christians have allowed ourselves to be co-opted by the state. Camp summarizes the problem:

[The church], rather than undercutting the powers that divide and alienate people, has often served and been used by the powers that divide and alienate. The state becomes that which demands our obedience, teaches its children to pledge its allegiance, wages war over artificial geographical boundaries, requires Iranians and Iraqis and Germans and Americans to kill one another, and requires them to set aside a higher allegiance, whether Muslim or Christian. (34)

The last few chapters of the book provide some practical ways in which Christians can build bridges with Muslims and, in so doing, overcome the violence and hatred that characterizes the typical American view of Islam. Camp notes that, if nothing else, Christians and Muslims are united by an ancient culture that valued hospitality over almost all else. Christians can see this hospitality played out in the story of Abraham, who entertained angels unawares, on through to Jesus who ate with those who were shunned by society. The Arab culture which gave birth to Islam shares these same values with respect to hospitality. Camp notes that “the table embodies a special place of grace, in which the reconciliation offered by God to the world may be made manifest.” (132) He suggests that Christian hospitality towards Muslims has the potential to have a much more profound impact than any attempts to dominate Islam with violence. Based on his personal experiences sharing meals with Muslims he shows how we can better understand the Muslim story and share in the struggle against violent elements in both religions.

One way in which war theory plays out in Christian-Muslim dialogue has to do with the Muslim view of the crucifixion. Muslims believe that God would not have allowed a great prophet, let alone the Son of God, to suffer an ignominious death on the cross. Such a death, according to Muslims, would have brought great shame and dishonor to God. Camp contends that the Christian focus on the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement, in which Jesus’ death pays the penalty for the sin of mankind, has obscured the fact that many early Christians saw the crucifixion as the victory of humble suffering over imperial violence and coercion. In other words, Christ preached non-violence and non-retaliation, and his crucifixion vindicates and bears witness to the ultimate power of those words. When we ignore that interpretation of the cross and engage in violence, Camp says, we deny “the ethical relevance of the crucified Jesus,” which is no different than a Muslim denying the historical fact of the crucified Jesus. (146)

Camp closes the book by encouraging Christians to have the courage both to break down barriers between Christianity and Islam and to speak out against violence and hatred. He notes that in this way Christians can truly illustrate how Christianity differs from Islam:

…that victory and triumph come not through a simple historical victory over the powers of injustice through justifiable use of the sword, but through cross and resurrection. But this notion…frightens me. I find the Muhammad story very compelling: carefully, and with equity, retaliate against those who oppress and persecute. Justice, as well as love for oneself and one’s neighbors, requires it. Yet the Jesus story proclaims that Jesus’s faithfulness unto death—and the vindication of his faithfulness in the resurrection—prescribes a different way. And if we believe that story to be true, then it provides the antidote to our slavery and bondage to fear….If death has been defeated through suffering love and resurrection, then we who also love in this way, and potentially suffer in this way, need neither be enslaved by fear nor propagate fear. (151-152)