Spiritual Minorities

Freedom of Religion or Belief · Spiritual Minorities · Global Advocacy

Anti-cult movements

Interview with Anne Morelli: Full Transcript

CICNS · 1 November 2005

Anne Morelli

Anne Morelli is a historian. Her university career has led her to work on questions in the sociology of religions. She is deputy director of the Interdisciplinary Centre for the Study of Religions and Secularism (Centre Interdisciplinaire d’Étude des Religions et de la Laïcité) at the Université Libre de Bruxelles. In this interview she describes, eloquently and dispassionately — she is an atheist — the condition of spiritual minorities in France and in Europe.

CICNS interview, November 2005. (The original page linked to a video of the interview.)

What would be your definition of a spiritual minority, or new religious movement?

I think terms carry a great deal of weight. The words we use are very important. Depending on whether we speak of religious minorities, of new religions, or use terms like “sects”, there is obviously a whole weight that is subjective. When we speak of a sect, it frightens. When we speak of a religious minority, it gives rather an impression of sympathy, or of empathy, toward a group that does not have the same weight as others.

Here at the University of Brussels we have conducted a reflection precisely on the passage from one status to another: when is one called a religion, when is one called a sect, when is one a heresy [i]. And the conclusion of this reflection, which we conducted in the course of a colloquium held here, at the Interdisciplinary Centre for the Study of Religions and Secularism, is that it is power that decides the label. One holds an official title, if you like, of religion — or else one is considered a sect, a heresy… It is power that confers this label, that decides who will have it and who will not. And so the relationship to power is essential — and this since before the birth of Christianity, since the Roman era, when religions were incorporated into the Roman Empire through a process that took them from a marginal religion to an official religion.

And it is still the case today: broadly speaking, we consider religions those religions that hold this label, and we call sects, or new religions, those that do not. It is therefore extremely important to agree first on the weight of words.

What is your assessment of the treatment of sects by the public authorities?

Depending, naturally, on the word one uses — whether one says “religious minority”, “new religious movement”, “sect”, … — a different treatment follows. Because if one says “sect”, it means one considers that there are good religions — the big ones, those that will be the object not only of recognition but also of financial support in one form or another (even in secular France, of course, church repairs are paid for, chaplains are paid, and in Alsace-Lorraine [ii] even the salaries of priests and pastors are paid) — so these good big religions are entitled to every consideration: they are consulted on ethical questions, they are given places on television, on radio, in the media… Whereas the religions that are not labelled are the object of the mistrust of power, and power organises against them, more or less, I would say, a witch-hunt, persecution, whatever you like, in one form or another — by highlighting the difficult or delicate moments that can occur in any human group whatsoever, and by presenting those moments as the norm of all marginal religious groups.

No one thinks that all priests are paedophiles, but the rumour is spread that those who belong to so-called “sects” are perverts of every kind, and commissions are organised to watch them, to pursue them, to assess their presence in groups, to assess their lobbying. So there is an extremely differentiated treatment of two phenomena which, from a sociological point of view, are entirely identical. What is the difference, from a sociological point of view, between the Jehovah’s Witnesses [iii] and other, better-established religious groups? It is extremely difficult to measure.

What is your assessment of the treatment of sects in the media?

The media have a very understandable attitude toward sects — toward the so-called “sects”; I put the term in quotation marks — which is that it is a subject in great demand, a very “juicy” subject. After running the special issue on the “Yellow Peril” and the special issue on “Paedophilia”, one usually gets a good readership return from a special issue on “These sects that surround us”, or something of the kind.

And there we regularly encounter very worrying excesses, because if juicy things cannot be found, they more or less have to be invented, of course. So from a media point of view, I would say, it is a subject that sells, a subject that attracts readership or ratings — but no account is given of the reality of life in small religious groups.

I would say that the reality of life in small religious groups is for the most part very boring: people who pray, who gather, who carry out charitable activities. None of that is much fun. But that does not interest the media. What interests them are the possible abuses, and these possible abuses are treated as generalities. So the attention of the reader or listener is drawn to behaviours that are entirely marginal in relation to the whole of the behaviours one could observe in small religious groups.

It is commonly said that the current policy was initiated in the wake of certain tragedies: Guyana [iv], Waco [v], the Order of the Solar Temple [vi]. What can you say about the use made of these tragedies, and what is the position of the historian and sociologist regarding the many questions left unanswered about the collective-suicide thesis?

Concerning the misdeeds attributable to “sects”: I sincerely think there have been victims, of course, in some of these groups — but next to the misdeeds of the great religions, they are amateurs.

The great religions are the multinationals of religion; they act on a grand scale. These are groups which, when there are victims, make victims by the thousands. When Hindus [vii] massacre Muslims, it is not three or four that they massacre. When, vice versa, Muslims attack Animists [viii] or Christians, it is not two or three people who fall victim, nor even a few dozen.

So I would say that compared with these great massacres organised in the name of the great religions, what may be done in the name of the small religions is the work of small independent entrepreneurs. It is a small thing beside what can be done on a grand scale by the multinationals of religion.

I will not pronounce on the specific court cases of the collective suicides, but let us say that there are nonetheless some rather troubling facts, where one may wonder whether the intervention of the police was not far worse than the internal behaviour of the group’s members. There are certainly a number of question marks that remain open; but even if all the deaths remained attributable to the Solar Temple sect, that is still only a few dozen. In the same period, how many deaths were there in inter-religious violence in India and Pakistan? How many deaths from violence between Jews and Muslims, between Catholics and Protestants? Far more, obviously.

Do you think an anti-sect psychosis is being maintained? If so, what would its objective be?

I think the great religions — and possibly organised secularism too — have an interest in keeping a certain monopoly over our societies. We are not like American society, which was born out of total religious pluralism.

Here in Europe we were born of a religious monolithism. One was first Catholic, or Protestant — but not both. And then, little by little, the liberalisation of society allowed there to be two, then three, then four, five possibly admissible options in our society. But it is not an open system. It is a closed system, limited to a few legally recognised groups. And so there is a kind of cake, I would say, shared among these groups. A financial cake — that is the case in Belgium, for example, since there are subsidies for the religions and for organised secularism; and if the Jehovah’s Witnesses were to be admitted among these groups — there are far more Jehovah’s Witnesses in Belgium than Jews — the cake would have to be shared. The media cake would have to be shared too, since there are broadcasts for secular morality, for the Jews, for the Protestants. Airtime would also have to be carved out for the Seventh-day Adventists [ix], the Scientologists [x], the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and so on. Faced with that possibility, there is a defensive reaction from the religions that hold the high ground and look rather unfavourably on these new little competitors. And so there is a reaction of retrenchment, and of anxiety.

Through our work we witness the discriminations suffered by the new spiritualities, or simply by people whose path is out of the ordinary. These discriminations range from criticism to defamation, to the withdrawal of parental authority, up to gendarme assaults worthy of the treatment of terrorists. These discriminations are never mentioned, either by the public authorities or by the media. What is your view of this partial concealment of reality?

Of course, the media very often centre their vision on the accounts of the penitents — what I call the penitents, that is, people who were in a group and have left it. And who are obviously not happy, because they spent time, money and devotion on a cause which, in hindsight, does not seem to them a good one. And that is true in religion; it is true in politics too.

The history of the Communist Party is written far more by listening to those who left it than to those who stayed. That has a juicy side, since there you have a terrible critique of the structures of the church or party one has left — and one never listens to the people who go on being Adventists, or Scientologists, or Jehovah’s Witnesses, and who are happy. And who receive something that, from the outside, may not be obvious.

The treatment the “sects” receive in the media is heavily indebted to this vision, of course. No one takes the trouble to give an objective picture of the phenomenon, and attention is fixed on the discontented. And so we have an extremely biased view of reality.

We often speak of the suffering some have undergone, whether inside radical religious movements or on leaving them; we forget to say that with the great religions it is the same. The point of the little book I wrote, La secte des adversaires des sectes [xi], is exactly that: if you want to leave a convent, it is not forbidden — but you have been cut off from real life for some time, and your reintegration today will be very difficult. And of course, if you leave a small marginal religious group, that difficulty will be very great as well.

The media centre their vision on the problems people may experience inside, or on leaving, a small religious group; but the other side is never seen: the discriminations of which people are victims, on the outside, on account of their commitments to small religious movements.

Among the cases that come to mind, I think of a schoolteacher in Belgium who was banned from teaching because he was a Jehovah’s Witness. He had excellent relations with his inspector; but from the moment it was discovered that he was a Jehovah’s Witness, he was dismissed. And today, pensioned off, retired, he has a truly minuscule pension because there is a great blank in his career, owing to that dismissal — a dismissal, I would say, on grounds of conscience.

I also have in mind the case of a Raëlian [xii] who was thrown out of a municipal administration when it was discovered — oh horror — that she was a Raëlian. Yet she had never proselytised within her administration; but the mere fact of being Raëlian is so frightening, given the negative image spread by the media, that freedom of conscience and freedom of worship were set aside in that particular case.

And so there are indeed a great many people who are victims of discrimination because they are members of a small religious group, and who must live it in secret — because if they are unmasked, they risk suffering extremely serious consequences, in their personal life or their professional life. And notably, in divorce cases, lawyers very often play on the famous list of sects — which, it is said, has no legal value, but is nevertheless frequently used — and use this list of sects to take away, for example, the custody of children from a father or mother who belongs to one of these groups called “sects”.

What do you think of the attitude of the public authorities, who base their policy chiefly on the testimony of apostates? What is your view of the “apostates”?

I can understand that people are disappointed at having invested part of their life, their time, their devotion, in a cause which in hindsight does not seem to them a just one. But what ought to be the rule in the media is not to privilege that testimony alone. It is one face of reality; it obviously has to be cross-checked.

In history, testimonies are always cross-checked: you have a person from one party; you add the testimony of a person from another party; you may then hope to have a somewhat more balanced view. And on the question of the so-called “sects”, in fact, the point of view systematically taken is that of the “penitents” — the term used for those who leave the mafia — the penitents, the apostates; and the point of view systematically neglected is that of the people who happily live a spirituality which is personally not close to me. I am a member of none of these groups; I am neither an Adventist, nor a Jehovah’s Witness, nor a Raëlian — I am totally atheist. But I consider that the different convictions must be treated equally, and therefore that what is held against one group cannot be held against that group alone without taking the others into consideration.

In the case that concerns us: if the history of the Catholic Church were written solely from the testimony of the people who have left it, we would have a kind of horror novel, with only the children who were victims of paedophile priests, the young girls who entered the convent against their will, those who were deceived by beliefs that proved fallacious… We would have an extremely biased view. Well, this biased view, which would be refused for the great religions, is accepted in the media for the small religions; and the testimonies of the apostates, of the penitents, are privileged without taking into consideration the other face of reality.

What is your opinion of the offence of mental manipulation, said to be a characteristic of the movements called “sects”?

The offence of mental manipulation is something extremely vague, of course. Mental manipulation begins on television, when you want to watch a news programme and you first get five minutes of advertising in which it is imprinted on your mind that Dreft [xiii] is a green powder that washes very well, when you had absolutely no desire to know that.

There is certainly mental manipulation in advertising. In the case of philosophies or religions, one cannot see where it begins and where it ends. I myself can attest to having been a victim of mental manipulation, because it is forty-five years since I last attended catechism and I can still recite to you the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Ten Commandments, the credo, and so on. So that means it was driven into my head with such insistence that forty-five years later I remember it still.

So should catechism be banned? If one is logical and wants to ban all mental manipulation, that is where it begins, obviously. One would then have to ban all religious mental manipulations as a whole. Or else one recognises that it does not endanger democracy. I was mentally manipulated, but I got over it; all things considered, I abandoned my catechism.

Mental manipulations are everywhere, all the time: in political parties, on television, in the great religions, in the small ones. But to imagine that mental manipulation is a characteristic of the so-called “sects” is to dream out loud. Either everyone must be treated on the same footing — and one arrives at an extremely repressive policy — or one accepts that there are things that do not please us but that are part of the game of democracy.

How far does freedom of conscience go, for the historian and sociologist that you are?

For me, there is never enough of it, I would say. What must be punishable are criminal acts. But for that we have a penal code that punishes criminal acts. If you rape a child, it is punishable — no matter whether it happens during catechism or in a so-called “sectarian” group. It must be punishable. That legislation suffices; there is no need to add vague and inapplicable regulations like those on mental manipulation. Our penal code amply suffices, and freedom of conscience must be total. I believe in no religion; I think they are impostures, all of them. But I leave people free to believe in whatever farces they wish. Some contemplate their navel; some maintain the cult of the angel Gabriel… Well, no matter: as long as they do no harm to civil society, I am for total freedom of these beliefs. And as a non-believer, I think that where there is genuine pluralism, genuine freedom of conscience, I too have my freedom within that prism. Whereas if only a few religions are recognised, it is already much more limited. And the worst — what must absolutely be avoided — is the monopoly of a single religion. That is the most unlivable situation. It is the case in certain Muslim countries; it is the case in Israel; it was formerly the case in our own regions, whether Catholic or Protestant. That situation obviously does not develop the critical spirit and does not permit the exercise of freedom of conscience.

What is your view of the anti-sect associations, such as the ADFI [xiv] in France, declared to be of public utility and subsidised by the state?

The anti-sect associations worry me greatly, whether in Belgium or in France. They are what I have called “the sect of the adversaries of sects”. These are people fixated on one problem, trying to sniff out their enemies everywhere. I think it is rather worrying that they are subsidised to hunt sects. In Belgium too we have an observatory of sects which, in my view, is not very effective… I do not see why they observe the sects and do not observe the great religions and the great philosophies. I think that if they have something to observe, it is everything — not only the “sects”, of course.

Moreover, as these groups are paid to uncover scandals, I would say they are somewhat driven to create scandals and to play them up.

What do you think of the decision of the Belgian courts that found in favour of a spiritual minority, the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God [xv], against the chamber that allegedly violated its duty of prudence and showed great indelicacy in drafting the report of the parliamentary commission of inquiry into sects, tabled on 28 April 1997? Some parliamentarians denounce an inadmissible violation of parliamentary immunity…

I was a little involved in that parliamentary inquiry because, unlike France, the Belgian parliament brought in independent experts. So sociologists came from the various universities — and no matter which universities they came from, and without consulting one another, they all had the same reaction. They said: it is not possible to give a definition of sects that differs from a definition of religions. But parliament nonetheless published a list of sects which was subsequently used a great deal. So I understand very well the reaction of this movement, which feels discriminated against for being on that list of sects. I would say it is a decision that seems to me extremely positive for democracy. It shows that there really is a separation between the judicial power and the political power. Because the court was absolutely independent and considered that it had no pressure to take from the political power.

The reaction of the political power was of course very violent; it contested the court’s decision — as if a political power had any business influencing the decision of a court. The decision was quite sound; but on appeal, the judgment was reversed.

It seems that in France, spiritual minorities cannot be a subject of study for academics without taking enormous risks with their careers. What do you think of this situation?

I think the situation is rather different in France and in Belgium. In France, the sect of the adversaries of sects has perhaps more of a hold than in Belgium. In Belgium the attitude is more nuanced, notably because on the Dutch-speaking side there is a view of the small religions somewhat similar to the Dutch view. You know that in the Netherlands there was also an inquiry into sects, and the final report said: this is not a problem; there are small religious groups and large religious groups, but they are not criminogenic and so we need not concern ourselves with them particularly. Whereas in France there is a very monolithic vision, a vision of religious monopoly, which makes everyone feel obliged to fight against these small religious movements.

So I think we have there two somewhat different visions, and that there is all the same more autonomy for researchers and academics in Belgium — especially on the Dutch-speaking side, but let us say in general — than in France.

Now, curiously, the Observatory of Sects in Belgium does not include the principal academics who have worked on sects. The president of this observatory was for a long time a Jesuit. It is rather astonishing that a Jesuit should be considered an objective figure for determining, within an official structure, which are the good and which the bad religions.

In your view, why are the public authorities not asking for more studies on the subject of sects, since it generates so many questions? This is the case in France, principally; it is perhaps not the same in Belgium.

In Belgium there has been no request from the public authorities for a genuine analysis, a genuine panorama of the situation of the new religious movements. We have taken the initiative here, in our centre for the study of religions and secularism, of a number of studies on the reality of these new movements in Brussels or in Belgium — but it has never been a study commissioned by the government.

So, curiously, the government has a repressive policy but is not interested in knowing whether it corresponds to an objective situation on the ground.


Notes

[i] A heresy (from the Greek hairesis: choice, preference for a doctrine) is first of all a school of thought. The garden of Epicurus was such a hairesis. Its Latin translation is secta — sect. Antiquity attached no pejorative value to these terms. In a Christian context, and by analogy in other contexts, heresy describes a complex situation of conflict and rupture, generally superimposing heresy proper (doctrinal: deviance on the content of the faith) and schism (disciplinary: insubordination to legitimate ecclesiastical authority).

[ii] “Alsace-Moselle”, used as a single term, improperly designates the part of France that became German from 1871 to 1918. The proper term for this territory is Alsace-Lorraine (translated from the German Elsass-Lothringen).

[iii] The Jehovah’s Witnesses form a religious movement of millenarian inspiration comprising six and a half million regular practitioners in 235 countries.

[iv] The “collective suicide” in Guyana in 1978 marked the beginning of the sect psychosis in the world. More than 900 people perished on the same day from various causes, but the verdict presented to the public has always been steered toward the idea of a sectarian abuse, even though the involvement of the American secret services has been demonstrated.

[v] Waco: a religious community in Texas (USA), entirely destroyed by an assault of the American security forces in April 1993. This affair is regarded as a catastrophic action and an excess of a state against one of its minorities.

[vi] The Order of the Solar Temple (OTS) was an esoteric group, active mainly in France, Switzerland and Canada, dissolved in 1994. Three tragedies made headlines: 5 dead in Quebec (1994), 48 dead in Switzerland (1994), 16 dead in France (1995). Regarded as collective suicides even though most of the evidence points to organised murders (see Yves Boisset’s documentary Les mystères sanglants de l’OTS), these tragedies were the trigger of the anti-sect campaign in France.

[vii] Hinduism is the oldest of the world’s principal religions. With more than 900 million faithful, it is currently the third most widespread religion, after Christianity, with about two billion faithful in total, and Islam, with nearly a billion. Hinduism may suitably be defined as the socio-religious way of life of the Hindus.

[viii] Animism (from the Latin anima: soul) is a belief or religion according to which nature is governed by souls or spirits analogous to the human will: stones, wind, animals. It is found above all in traditional societies, as in Africa, South America, North America, Siberia or Oceania. In the Scandinavian countries an animist substrate exists in parallel with Christianity.

[ix] The Seventh-day Adventist Church is a Protestant Christian movement founded in the United States of America in the mid-nineteenth century by Ellen White.

[x] The Church of Scientology — or simply Scientology — is an organisation with a spiritual vocation founded in the United States in the 1950s by L. Ron Hubbard.

[xi] Lettre ouverte à la secte des adversaires des sectes, Anne Morelli, Éditions Labor, 1997.

[xii] Claude Vorilhon, known as Raël, born 30 September 1946 in Vichy in the Allier, France, is the founder of the Raëlian movement. The Raëlian movement proposes a new interpretation of human history founded on the role of extraterrestrials.

[xiii] A dishwashing product.

[xiv] The Union Nationale des Associations de Défense des Familles et de l’Individu (UNADFI) groups and coordinates the ADFI (Associations for the Defence of Families and the Individual). These associations play a major role in the discrimination against spiritual movements, by inciting citizens to denounce any person whose behaviour is considered “out of the norm” and by taking sides against these persons in trials in which they have been authorised to act as civil parties after obtaining the status of association of public utility. To learn more about the workings of these state-funded associations, read the article reproduced on the CICNS site.

[xv] EURD: Universal Church of the Kingdom of God. A church founded in 1977 in Brazil by Edir Macedo, arising from the Pentecostal movement.

Sources

Translated from the original Transcription intégrale de l'interview d'Anne Morelli (French) by CICNS