3.1. The Post-Secular Public Sphere and the Institutional Translation Proviso
The analysis of the post-secular public sphere is of particular importance in terms of how the three authors understand pluralism and its relation to secularism in our post-secular societies. Habermas, Taylor, and Connolly agree that secularism emerged historically at a time when the state was confronting religion and out of the need to accommodate a specifically neutral space of freedom and political action for the peaceful coexistence of different and competing religious doctrines. However, their responses are different with regard to the appropriate understanding of secularism in post-secular societies. Against Habermas, Taylor and Connolly argue that the discontinuity between the traditional perception of secularism and the recent experience of post-secular pluralism necessarily affects our perception of secularism as one of the fundamental political principles of modern secular democracy. The modern politics of secular neutrality must ultimately be freed from any transcendental connotations in order to more fully and adequately cope with the contingent experience of pluralism and the inclusion of minorities in the democratic polity. The absence of a single moral source as a regulative ideal for our common political life leads to the rejection of secularism as a transcendental doctrine and excludes the idea of consensus as the ultimate authority in citizen deliberations within the post-secular public sphere.
Nevertheless, while Taylor and Connolly agree that the historical experience of secularism as a normative political understanding of the political public sphere centered on the accommodation of religion is now exhausted, Habermas’s “institutional translation proviso” seems to betray such an intention. In his debate with Habermas, the main object of Taylor’s criticism is the distinction between (secular) ethics and religion, which provides the basis for the epistemic priority of secular over religious reasons (
Habermas and Taylor 2011, p. 62). For Taylor, the alleged priority of secular over religious reasons builds on the hypothesis that religion always represents a comprehensive worldview and its relevance concerns the people that already accept the dogmas in question, while secular reason reflects the universal presuppositions of natural human reason accessible to all and respects the secular conditions of impartiality (
Taylor 2011, p. 53).
According to this critique, there is an irresolvable tension between treating pluralism as the indispensable moral and cultural basis of our modern post-secular societies and the attempt to establish a common, normative language by abstracting from our various moral and spiritual commitments and cultural sources. In response to this view, Taylor develops the argument that the traditional conception of secularism based on the distinction in terms of rational credibility between secular and religious discourse is utterly meaningless since it has no rational foundation, and asks Habermas “how does one distinguish between religious from secular language” (
Taylor 2011, p. 58, note 13). It is worth noting that, when he critically interrogates Habermas’s approach, Taylor is not denying that there may be significant differences between religious and secular/philosophical arguments. What he actually resists is the claim that the only way to evaluate arguments stemming from different cultural and existential backgrounds is the construction of a cognitively neutral standpoint based on the procedural presuppositions of discourse ethics.
Adopting a hermeneutical point of view, Taylor develops the argument that it is always possible to move between different and incommensurable discourses in order to understand each other without sharing a common point of view, rising above our insurmountable cultural differences.
8 In his debate with Habermas, Taylor denies that such an abstraction is even possible, arguing instead that we are always necessarily moving in the background of our deepest existential commitments and we are, in principle, incapable of bracketing our substantive beliefs by taking a disengaged stance toward our values in order to construe a common and allegedly neutral language accessible to all (
Habermas and Taylor 2011, p. 64).
Habermas’s response to Taylor relates to the sociological conditions of religious arguments in the public sphere. His reasoning is based on the premise that, since secular arguments lack embeddedness in the thick anthropological context of a particular historical community, they are, in principle, open to everyone. In contrast to secular ethical arguments, religious arguments are rooted in a particular social and psychological experience and we are only able to participate in it to the extent that we share the experience of membership to an established historical community of believers (
Habermas and Taylor 2011, pp. 61–63).
In contrast to this, Taylor sees every form of discourse as embedded in a particular and ultimately non-sharable metaphysical background of fundamental anthropological convictions. Therefore, the crucial question is not why religion is excluded but why it should be treated as a special kind of discourse in the first place. Religious language is excluded not because it is specifically religious but because it is not shared (
Taylor 2011, pp. 57–58, note 11). In Taylor’s view, every religious or secular/philosophical argument is intrinsically linked to a particular conception of the good life which proves impossible to eradicate without violating the existential core of one’s own identity. Our deeper spiritual and existential differences can never totally be abolished in favor of a common language. Seen in this way, the normative expectation of a secular translation of religious arguments runs the risk of becoming a tyrannical prescription which is illegitimately imposed on religious citizens (
Taylor 2007, p. 532).
In this respect, I am in full agreement with Taylor when he says that Habermas does not sufficiently demonstrate why all secular reasons are, in principle, more generalizable than religious arguments by pointing to a language potentially accessible to all. However, if we look more closely into Habermas’s work, it appears that the difference between religious and secular arguments is not as absolute as Habermas lets us think:
Salvation religions derive an immediate power to orient action from their significance for the personal salvation of the believer. But metaphysical worldviews and political ideologies also offer explanations of the world, of history, and of society in a “thick” normative language that has practical implications for the success or failure of one’s life.
That being said, what is most important for our discussion is that, in the aforementioned passage, metaphysical worldviews and political ideologies are both regarded by Habermas as being symmetrical with religious truths regarding their power to shape and orient life as a whole. As a consequence, even if one accepts that religious arguments are in principle conditioned by a particular historical religious tradition, it is not clear why the view that secular reasons may be oriented to a particular way of life was previously ruled out. From this point of view, it is impossible to establish a clear-cut distinction between religious and secular arguments with respect to the criterion of neutrality/universality. In this respect, Habermas’s argument in
Religion in the Public Sphere is in need of revision in order to accommodate all arguments—both secular and non-secular—in the post-secular public sphere on an equal plane without presupposing a process of translation prior to the process of open and unconditional argumentation (
Cooke 2007, pp. 228–29), insofar as the internal relationship between truth and existential orientation manifests itself equally in religious convictions, metaphysical worldviews, and political ideologies.
In
A Secular Age, Taylor shows how the public sphere in modernity is not defined by the absence of religion but by the experience of a virtually infinite variety of intersecting comprehensive doctrines. The post-secular public sphere is a “fragile” and ever-changing common social space in the sense that no comprehensive view represents the ultimate authority. Every claim to universality—religious or secular—is rendered unstable by the co-presence of other perspectives and is open to contestation from multiple perspectives (
Taylor 2007, pp. 193–94, 304, 437). The main objective of this analysis is not to establish the conditions of possibility for the presence of religion in the public sphere through an epistemic distinction between different domains of discourse, but to develop an understanding of how our experience in the post-secular public sphere relates to a particular ethics of citizenship. The most appropriate response to the challenges that face our modern post-secular societies is the shared willingness, albeit groundless and for this reason largely unstable, of constantly renewing our fundamental ties of dialogue, mutual respect, and solidarity without subordinating our deliberations to the futile quest of a single universal justification (
Taylor 2010).
In a manner similar to Taylor, Connolly argues that pluralism and the relativization of every claim to universality are mutually constitutive. The co-presence in the same social space of divergent and competing positions regarding ultimate values intensifies the reciprocal awareness of the element of contestability equally affecting each position and leads to the reflexive relativization of every claim to universality. For Connolly, it is the distinctive element of every comprehensive view—religious or secular—to maintain both a cognitive and a metaphysical dimension that makes our engagement with the world possible by exceeding empirical certainty or rational necessity (
Connolly 2011a, p. 39). In Connolly’s terms, every comprehensive view is a “faith”, a unified whole which encompasses a particular worldview, as well as an ineradicable element of sensibility pertaining to how this particular view is publicly expressed and presented to others in communicative interactions (
Connolly 2005, pp. 47–48).
From this point of view, Connolly’s approach overlaps in many respects with Taylor’s position, insofar as both positions regard the post-secular public sphere as a common social space open to the appreciation of difference without an ascertainable sacred or secular foundation based on a single and authoritative moral source beyond history and the actual social conditions. The post-secular public sphere is described by Connolly as “sliced and diffuse” (
Connolly 2005, p. 123), and is defined by the unstable co-presence of multiple comprehensive doctrines expressing various secular, metaphysical, and religious orientations without presupposing the mediating synthesis of a universal condition (
Connolly 1999, pp. 8, 38–39).
Connolly explicitly relates the post-secular public sphere with a particular ethics of citizenship by opposing to post-Kantian secular liberalism, “a post-secular ethic both more alert to the fragility of ethics and more open to the play of difference in cultural life” (
Connolly 1999, p. 54). This criticism elucidates the role “a post-secular ethos of public engagement between diverse spiritualities” could play in modern secular democracies (
Connolly 1999, p. 158). Without the cultivation of pluralist civic virtues of self-critical stance and openness to difference, modern democracy runs the risk of devolving into secular fundamentalism. Participating in our common political life means that everyone is allowed to put into question and actively contest pertinent aspects of the fundamental convictions of others regardless of their origins (
Connolly 1995, p. 130). In this view, democracy is not so much an institutional arrangement as a manner to (re)create the social world following a particular ethos of coexistence, which involves the willingness to appreciate the experience of difference in social and cultural life and cultivate our relation to the disruptive and contingent movements of pluralization (
Connolly 2005, pp. 123–26).
Now, I consider this assumption of Connolly’s thought as an invaluable contribution to the critique of secularism, since it points to a crucial aspect of our post-secular predicament that remains largely underdeveloped in Taylor’s approach. For, when Taylor makes a plea for a radical redefinition of secularism, his perspective remains confined to the mere institutional recognition of pluralism. The portrayal of secularism primarily in terms of an institutional correction appears to neglect the crucial aspect of social interactions as the principal context for the cultivation of a post-secular ethics of citizenship. The impression which emerges from this analysis is that, despite and beyond its undeniable critical intentions, it paradoxically results in reinforcing the mediating function of the state as the sole and ultimate judge of the scope and limits of secularism, and considerably weakens the multiculturalist argument (
Asad 2003, pp. 2–3).
The political philosophy of agonistic respect, on the contrary, stresses more strongly the element of active political contestation of the priority of the secular in social and political life (
Connolly 1995, pp. 91–92). The engagement with difference in social and political life is not passively imposed by the contingent conditions of social and cultural pluralism but relates the critique of secularism with the prospect of political action. It implies a self-transformative and creative process reflecting, as Fred Dallmayr forcefully argues, not so much the simple affirmation of pluralism but the latent possibilities inscribed in our pluralist post-secular democracies (
Dallmayr 2010, p. 7). The pluralization of the world is an irreversible and global condition marked by the rapid and contingent emergence of different social and cultural perspectives and multiple minorities or social movements which cultivate the fundamental mistrust of any claim to universality, putting into question secular certainties and destabilizing the image of a unified cultural–political identity (
Connolly 2011a, pp. 59–60).
Post-secular deep pluralism is understood as a political program with the double aim of promoting diversity and critically interrogating the internal socio-political structures and institutional settlements of what Connolly calls the politics of unitarianism (
Connolly 2011b, p. 653). This political ideal depends on the cultivation of a particular ethics of citizenship based on the possibilities created by the active contestation of naturalized identities, hegemonic majorities, and sedimented settlements of the past. Unlike Taylor, the post-secular politics Connolly advocates is not merely a negative process oriented to the mere (institutional) assertion of a fragile modus vivendi (
Finlayson 2010, p. 14). The laborious, albeit groundless and diffuse, intervention in the post-secular public sphere against the marginalization and exclusion of difference is not a static condition, but a productive process leading to the creation of new rights, new cultural identities or cultural goods, and new forms of social existence contesting the unitary aspirations of modern politics (
Connolly 2011a, p. 80;
Connolly 2005, p. 121).
This particular understanding of democracy pervades Connolly’s political theory and points to the regulative ideal of active engagement with the various processes that disturb our certainties about the way we experience the contemporary world and subsequently affect and transform the perception of ourselves as political beings. This conception of democracy goes beyond the institutional administration of pluralism by registering the ethical sensitivity to suffering and its concrete implications in everyday politics (
Connolly 1995, p. 99;
Connolly 1999, p. 17).
As Mariano Barbato and Friedrich Kratochwil argue:
Unlike the usual attempts to cement political stability by a basic consensus, the politics of becoming is supposed to create an opening for change, particularly in those situations in which one party profits from stability while others suffer from it… [Connolly’s] objection to pure politics and his advocacy of deep pluralism are aimed at creating more inclusive consensus through the politics of becoming. He does so, however, with the full awareness that not all can be included, even though an increasing number can participate in political contestation.
What determines the critique of secularism in the paradigm of deep pluralism is the fundamental tension between pre-existing cultural identities, moral sources, and institutional settings, and the expectation to cultivate an ethos of critical responsiveness to the creative and disruptive movements of difference both in the social fabric and within established institutional spaces (
Connolly 2005, pp. 61, 65). The invaluable merit of the agonistic approach is that, in contrast to Taylor, it locates the critique of secularism within the interactional contexts of the post-secular public sphere. A post-secular society in Connollian terms is a society that follows the contingent creativity of social and cultural life, and facilitates the social and institutional registration of novel experiences and identities through the critique of universal concepts, the contestation of established identities and hidden injuries, and the pluralization of operative distinctions without presupposing a universal point of reference for our public political practices (
Connolly 1995, pp. 183, 185, 190–91).
3.2. The Question of Legitimacy
However, it appears that, when it comes to the fundamental question of legitimacy, Connolly’s approach is unable to account for a methodologically adequate normative integration of post-secular pluralist virtues in the contexts of social interaction. The paradigm of agonistic respect aims toward deepening the process of democratization in a pluralist and conflictual post-secular world by adopting a regulative political ideal without making an appeal to a transcendental authority (
Connolly 1999, pp. 71, 92, 158). Connolly clearly denies any prior grounding or consensus for our democratic and post-secular public sphere. However, he explicitly maintains that one of the prominent tasks of the politics of deep pluralism is to “pluralize the number of
legitimate existential faiths… within the ethos of sovereignty” and speaks of “the need to extend the dimensions or types of
legitimate diversity within the state” (
Connolly 2005, pp. 147 and 61, respectively; my emphasis). How should one be able to distinguish between “legitimate” and non-legitimate—say racist or disrespectful to human life or the environment—forms of social existence in the post-secular public sphere? Connolly has little to say about the concrete normative presuppositions mediating the confrontation between different and largely incompatible or competing doctrines, although he acknowledges that “the politics of becoming does not always generate positive things” (
Connolly 2005, p. 121).
The most important problem with Connolly’s account of the post-secular public sphere is that it does not really provide sufficient analysis for the legitimation of its practical–political implications. What is truly missing in Connolly’s account of the post-secular public sphere is a discussion of the legitimacy of our institutional and political practices in the face of pluralism that in some respects appears to be independent of any normative regulation. Connolly’s response to this objection is that the impossibility of a single secular or religious source of justification does not conceal an uncritical acceptance of relativism but points to a political ethos of generosity, registering the comparative contestability of each perspective (
Connolly 2005, pp. 40–41). Deep pluralism allows for a plurality of comprehensive doctrines and conceptions of the good while actively resisting the image of war between ultimate values (
Connolly 2011a, p. 86). However, the generous openness to novelty that Connolly’s otherwise powerful argument articulates is not sufficiently concrete, from a normative point of view, to legitimate such an ethics of political coexistence for our post-secular societies. The paradigm of deep pluralism does not understand the readiness to promote and cultivate the expression of difference in social and cultural life as a communal, intersubjective practice but as the contingent result of individual initiative. The critical but respectful engagement with our fellow citizens and their differing perspectives in the post-secular public sphere follows no other criterion than that of the purely subjective willingness to appreciate the element of pluralism.
An equally problematic aspect of the politics of deep pluralism is related to the legitimation of secularism as a political doctrine and institutional settlement. According to Connolly, deep pluralism leads to a pluralization of the secular predicament and puts into question both state neutrality as an institutional settlement and the possibility of consensus in the post-secular public sphere (
Connolly 1995, pp. 28, 188). Recognizing, as Connolly tells us, that “secularism is a political settlement rather than an uncontestable dictate of public discourse itself” (
Connolly 1999, p. 36) makes it possible to rework that settlement through the pluralization of the sacred/secular distinction (
Connolly 1995, pp. 188–89).
Through his engagement with the reality of political secularism, Connolly argues for a radical reevaluation of the secular through its conversion into one perspective among others (
Connolly 1999, p. 11). In a similar vein, Connolly argues in favor of a post-fundamentalist liberalism, one that is fully aware of its own partiality and reflexively accommodates its contestability among a variety of multiple and competing comprehensive doctrines (
Connolly 1995, p. 125). However, there are strong reasons to doubt if Connolly’s argument is really sound, since a different strand of his thought defends “a critical liberalism that both expands and thickens the range of secularism” (
Connolly 1999, p. 10), leading to his statement that “secularism needs refashioning, not elimination” (
Connolly 1999, p. 19). I take this to mean that deep pluralism is based on a strategy of renegotiation of our secular institutional settlements without putting into question our fundamental political principles (
Connolly 1995, pp. 193–94). Connolly intends to show that the internal dynamic of modern post-secular pluralism is affirmed through and beyond the institutional settlement of the separation of church and state without adopting an attitude of uniform hostility (
Connolly 1995, p. 178). To the extent that the development of the state around a civil religion is no longer a viable option, the separation of church and state counts as an irreversible institutional arrangement for our post-secular societies (
Connolly 1999, p. 19). This leads Connolly to conclude that deep pluralism “offers the best opportunity for diverse faiths to coexist without violence while supporting the civic conditions of common governance” (
Connolly 2005, p. 65). In other words, Connolly cannot endorse the priority of an absolutely diffuse social and cultural experience over established identities unless he presupposes, albeit without further argument, a universally valid and stable institutional settlement.
As for Taylor, he argues that our common political ethic is sustained by the core democratic principles of freedom, equality, and solidarity “to which different faith and non-faith communities subscribe, each other for their own divergent reason” (
Taylor 2007, p. 532). It is in this context that we can evaluate Taylor’s appropriation of the Rawlsian concept of “overlapping consensus”. The “overlapping consensus” reflects a particular political ethic without being amenable to a process of independent justification—Rawls—or to the mediating authority of consensus—Habermas (
Taylor 2011, p. 47). In our engagement with others in the post-secular public sphere, we are always able to rework our communal ties without being able to achieve a common understanding of the “first principles” that arrange our common political framework. The overlapping consensus rests on precarious and insecure cognitive grounds, insofar as it reflects the unstable condition of the post-secular public sphere and is too “fragile” for any universal principles to be derived from it. Nevertheless, it remains, Taylor insists, the only viable solution for our post-secular societies since it makes it possible for everyone to accept the plurality of principles depicted by the diversity model without having to abstract from the deeper reasons or fundamental beliefs for adhering to our common political ethic (
Taylor 2011, p. 48).
This particular conception of secularism differs substantially from Habermas’s contribution to the debate. It attempts to establish a common and stable political framework for our post-secular societies without making any appeal to a consensual synthesis of all points of view. It is not that a certain kind of state neutrality is not necessary for our post-secular societies. Taylor explicitly acknowledges that “the pluralism of society requires that there be some kind of neutrality” (
Taylor 2011, p. 34). However, the point of state neutrality is not to single out religion but to refrain from explicitly favoring or disfavoring a particular worldview or fundamental position (
Taylor 2011, p. 37). Where Habermas tends to equate the “neutral” or “generally accessible language” with secular language, Taylor understands by neutrality the distanciation of the political authority from a single moral or cultural source regardless of its origins. Debating with Habermas and Rawls, Taylor attempts to determine the institutional range of state neutrality by excluding citizen deliberation (first Rawls) or deliberation in the legislature (Habermas). The principle of neutrality is better understood as pertaining to a neutral zone described as “the official language of the state… in which legislation, administrative decrees, and court judgments must be couched” (
Taylor 2011, p. 50).
Considering its content, I find Taylor’s objection truly convincing. Generalizing the principle of neutrality within the parliamentary domain contradicts Habermas’s argument developed in
Between Facts and Norms, according to which “the logic of discourse yields the principle of political pluralism both inside and outside representative bodies. Parliamentary opinion—and will—formation must remain anchored in the informal streams of communication emerging from public spheres that are open to all political parties, associations, and citizens” (
Habermas 1996, p. 171). As Alessandro Ferrara reminds us in his critical reading of Habermas, there are activities and forms of communication taking place officially in Parliament that certainly do not fit Habermas’s description based on the rigid distinction between unofficial and decision-making deliberations (
Ferrara 2009, pp. 86–87).
However, my impression is that what matters most in this debate is the question of legitimacy. In her insightful commentary of the debate, Ulrike Spohn rightfully argues that one must be careful not to take Taylor’s concept of neutrality “just as a paraphrase of the conventional liberal principle of public reason”. Since Taylor does not allow for an independent or universal justification, neutrality is simply reduced to the requirement of abstaining from formally recognizing a particular religious or secular worldview (
Spohn 2015, p. 128). I moreover agree with the argument that, in contrast to Habermas, Taylor does not understand the modern secular state as the result of a learning process leading progressively to a superior mode of justification (
Spohn 2015, p. 127). Against confounding the modern experience of secularity with the overcoming of religion, Taylor argues in favor of a different narrative that understands our social and political world as made possible—at least partially—through the emergence of a viable but not necessarily superior moral and spiritual alternative based on the core values of secular humanism (
Taylor 2007, pp. 21, 234, 245).
9 It follows that privileging a particular mode of justification or a unique moral source as the ultimate authority of the democratic polity is not really possible. However, my argument is that Taylor’s attempt to understand the legitimacy of the modern secular outlook as independent from a universal justification is far from being without problems. Addressing the question of legitimacy, Taylor claims that the modern democratic state is inconceivable without the sense of a strong collective identity. Modern democracy requires a high level of mutual commitment and a sense of common identification as sources of civic solidarity and political identity (
Taylor 2011, p. 44). Modern political identity is, therefore, defined in terms of its normative requirements—the three basic political principles understood as “a philosophy of civility”—as well as in terms of its substantive cultural components—a particular linguistic, religious, or historical identity (
Taylor 2011, pp. 43–45). The modern secular order expresses “a strong normative view” but is subject to various interpretations and is always through a particular conception of society that is articulated and justified as an operative political framework (
Taylor 2011, p. 47).
Taylor, thus, stresses the need to strongly identify with the common political project that represents the modern secular state through some kind of “political theology”, and he explicitly accuses Habermas of not doing so (
Taylor 2011, p. 46). By doing this, Taylor clearly gives legitimacy a more substantive meaning than a mere modus vivendi allows for. A deeper grounding is necessary in order to give modern democratic legitimacy its full expression. I suggest that it is this tension that leads Taylor to declare somewhat unexpectedly that the modern state can never be entirely neutral since its policies always and inevitably mirror the concrete values and the actual convictions of its citizens—Christian, Muslim, or otherwise (
Taylor 2011, pp. 50–51). Therefore, the ethical coloration of the state is an inevitable condition. However, Taylor does not really explain how this deeper grounding is possible now that an articulation of the three basic political principles around a common worldview—religious, anti-religious, or otherwise—is no longer possible in our highly diversified post-secular societies. Taylor is unable to accommodate these two mutually exclusive claims in the general philosophical framework of its model of diversity unless he presupposes a stable and homogeneous social background against his own philosophical convictions. There is also an additional problem to Taylor’s plea for a deeper grounding. The unavoidable ethical coloration of the state may reflect not only the “actual convictions” of its citizens in a sociologically neutral way, but it may tend to conceal the attempt of a hegemonic majority to prevail politically and ideologically in order to impose its own point of view within the public sphere and the institutions of the state (
Habermas 2008a, pp. 265–67;
Habermas 2006a, pp. 11–12).
Dealing with the question of legitimacy, what Taylor and Connolly share is the belief that there is—or ought to be—some common basis for the democratic polity without universal foundations. This is why their accounts of legitimacy lead to some questionable conclusions. From the point of view of post-metaphysical thinking, the legitimacy of the democratic constitutional state is conceived as an inclusive community of citizens and is not based on contingent reasons, but it requires a normative justification of its universal principles based on reasons that are both accessible to all
and universally acceptable (
Habermas 2017, pp. 115–16). Habermas privileges a universal justification of the modern secular state by acknowledging that the “updated version of Kantian republicanism” he defends requires “a nonreligious, post-metaphysical justification of the normative foundations of constitutional democracy” (
Habermas 2008a, p. 102).
It is precisely this identification of the post-metaphysical with the non-religious which is misleading and tends to obfuscate Habermas’s view on the matter. In emphasizing the universality of its position, Habermas nonetheless makes clear that his reconstruction is guided by the effort to achieve a common understanding—shared by religious citizens, secular citizens, and citizens of different religions—of our commitments to the normative principles of the democratic constitutional state (
Habermas 2010, pp. 20–21). A more generous reading of Habermas’s post-metaphysical account of secularism should be able to meet Taylor’s objection that, dealing with secularism, what matters most is not to perfectly describe a permanent and unshakeable institutional settlement based on the accommodation of religion, although it is sometimes difficult to conceive of a different way of thinking about secularism and state neutrality.
10Far from being reduced to a mere institutional arrangement, secularism is better understood as an application of the principle of “equal distance” from any strong tradition or comprehensive worldview.
11 At the heart of state neutrality is not the exclusion of religion but the respect of the conditions of impartiality. The reconstruction of the post-secular public sphere represents a political task which requires mediating between radical multiculturalism and dogmatic secularism in the perspective of a “post-secular balance between shared citizenship and cultural difference”, which takes freedom and equality not as opposing principles but as the complementary fundamental norms of a post-secular democratic polity open to multiple secular and non-secular voices.
In our post-secular societies, secularization is not a one-way process leading from religious to secular arguments but a complementary learning process that affects both secular and religious mentalities by forcing them to reflectively access their respective limits (
Habermas 2006b, p. 23). The condition of reflexivity is an indispensable condition for political justification as a public cooperative practice (
Habermas 2011, pp. 26–27). The legitimating force behind secularization is the democratic self-empowerment of citizens through their practical self-understanding as free and equal members of the democratic polity (
Habermas 2011, p. 21). The “autonomous justification” of the constitutional state is not a metaphysical condition beyond history and is not characterized by the disengagement from our beliefs or cultural belongings.
In his study,
Explorations in Post-Secular Metaphysics, Josef Bengtson contrasts Habermas’s post-metaphysical secularism with the “metaphysical post-secularism” of Taylor, Connolly, and Milbank (
Bengtson 2015). The key issue here is the difference between a philosophical approach that takes ontological arguments seriously and the post-metaphysical abstinence toward metaphysical questions. Bengtson’s argument is centered on the following hypothesis:
Habermas’s post-secularism entails a bracketing of that which cannot be shared (such as particular languages and cultural or religious expressions) and a desire to stay in the realm of what he argues can be shared: secular reason. Consequently, Habermas’s post-metaphysical post-secularity tends to make questions regarding cosmology, worldview, or religion of secondary importance, and relegates them to an area of “private beliefs”.
According to this argument, the intention of post-metaphysical thought is to draw a line between a neutral public language and private metaphysical questions and existential issues. In the same vein, Connolly argues that post-metaphysical thinking derives from the philosophical/epistemological inability to provide definitive answers to fundamental existential issues or the ontological impossibility of any given social organization of eliminating them from social life the possibility of removing them from public discourse (
Connolly 1991, p. 162).
This critique of Habermas’s thought tends to present argumentation as an absolute transcending of our social and cultural practices by conflating the reconstructive aspect of Habermas’s theory with the internal perspective of the participants in political deliberations, with the normative implications and consequences that the participation in real discourses implies for the subjects themselves (
Brady 2004, pp. 342–43). As a theorist of modernity, Habermas believes that the internal relationship between the loss of communal ties and pluralization in modernity results to a profound transformation of the norms of our coexistence (
Habermas 2001, pp. 82–83). Far from relegating existential issues to the private sphere, Habermas claims that the undermining of universally binding substantive norms, pre-political values, and ways of life leads to “post-traditional identity”, which makes possible and requires the conscious and reflexive engagement with substantive norms, collective identities, and established traditions through ethical–political discourses (
Habermas 1996, p. 97).
Habermas not only believes that existential questions are of particular importance for our practical self-understanding (
Habermas [1986] 1992b, p. 249), but also claims that they maintain a special relation to the ethical–political self-understanding of particular communities and even of society as a whole (
Habermas 1992c, p. 448). This leads Habermas to conclude that political deliberations “are supposed to allow participants to discuss value orientations and interpretations of needs and wants, including their pre-political self-understandings and worldviews, and then to change these in an insightful way” (
Habermas 1996, p. 274). In his “Faith and Knowledge”, Habermas relates our practical self-understanding as free and responsible persons to what he calls the “democratic common sense”, which describes this self-understanding as originating from a “many-voiced public”. Our democratic self-understanding is a cooperative process that does not surpass pluralism but emerges through the reflexive awareness that political legitimacy is possible only through the actual engagement with perspectives and positions that are different from our own (
Habermas 2003, pp. 109–10).
By facilitating the critical evaluation of existential and metaphysical convictions, public reason manifests its full potential. Entering the public sphere does not automatically entail the bracketing of our existential resources that shape our life as a whole and inevitably permeate our political involvements. Modernity does not only result in the disintegration of tradition and the fragmentation of collective consciousness, but it also creates the conditions for a new form of civic integration based on the rational compensation of argumentation. By this, I understand the internal connection between political legitimation and the necessity to submit our arguments and truth claims, regardless of their origins, to radical scrutiny through the reasoned exchange of arguments in the public sphere.
Closely following Rawls, Habermas argues that the idea of a modus vivendi is insufficient if our main task is to understand secular and religious mentalities not as opposing but as two different perspectives which complement each other in a politically legitimate way by means of public reasoning (
Habermas 2011, pp. 24–25). State neutrality is not to be thought of as being in contrast with particular religious traditions. Religious communities should not resign themselves to a mere modus vivendi, but they should try to establish a reflexive connection with the universal principles of the secular state from within their particular communities and internal sources (
Habermas 2017, p. 133;
Habermas 2008a, pp. 112, 262, 308).
What is most interesting for our present discussion is that this requirement is not restricted to religious traditions but extends to secular communities as well:
The cognitive demand the liberal state makes of religious communities is all the same for “strong” secular communities (such as national or ethnic minorities, immigrant or indigenous populations, descendants of slave cultures, etc.). The traditions they continue open up “world perspectives” that, like religious world views, can come into conflict with one another. Therefore, cultural groups are equally expected to adapt their internal ethos to the egalitarian standards of the community at large. Some of them may find this even tougher than do those communities who are able to resort to the highly developed conceptual resources of one or the other of the great world religion.
Our most fundamental commitments should not be seen as in contrast to the universal recognition of the normative foundations of the modern secular state. Although Habermas argues for the primacy of universal justification, he explicitly acknowledges—at least in his recent work—that this precedence should take place—for both religious and secular communities—in accordance with our pre-political values and sources of social solidarity (
Habermas 2006b, pp. 30–31).