701xml UTER_A_334086 August 9, 2008 15:25

UTER #334086, VOL 31, ISS 10

A Pact with the Devil? Elite Alliances as Bases

of Violent Religious Conflicts
ALEXANDER DE JUAN

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A Pact with the Devil? Elite Alliances as Bases
of Violent Religious Conflicts
ALEXANDER DE JUAN
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Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 31:1–16, 2008

Copyright © Taylor & Francis Group, LLC
ISSN: 1057-610X print / 1521-0731 online
DOI: 10.1080/10576100802339193

1 A Pact with the Devil? Elite Alliances as Bases

2 of Violent Religious Conflicts

3 ALEXANDER DE JUAN
4 Post-Graduate Research Programme
5 University of Tuebingen
6 Tuebingen, Germany

7 This article aims at explaining religious conflicts on the basis of an elite-centered

8 theoretical model. Violent movements can only pertain on the long run if political elites
9 organize and coordinate them centrally. The same holds true for the religious dimension
10 of many conflicts. Religious elites have to persuade the believers of the religious nature
11 of their struggle. Hence, in many cases religious conflicts can be traced back to alliances
12 of religious and political elites. The first try to protect their religious communities and
13 hope to expand their religious influence. The latter try to use religion as a resource for
14 mobilization.

15 Empirical analyses find that religions and religious differences rarely play a central role
16 as root causes of violent conflicts. This seems to contradict the hardly disputable fact that
17 religions play a prominent role in many contemporary civil wars like Iraq, Nigeria, Sri
18 Lanka, or India. If religion is not the cause of these conflicts, then how can their apparent
19 religious dimension be explained? A closer look at the role of political and religious elites
20 can in many cases solve this seeming paradox.
21 At first sight many civil wars seem to be governed by senseless brutality and
22 uncontrollable hatred. Closer examinations, however, reveal a different picture. Long-
23 lasting violent struggles like the ones in the Philippines, Sierra Leone, Colombia, or
24 Angola depend on anticipatory and goal-oriented planning.1 They emerge when the warring
25 factions are capable of recruiting and training combatants, securing the supply of weapons
26 and equipment and systematically organizing combat operations. Mass movements without
27 centralized coordination will quickly be crushed by government troops before conflicts
28 can evolve into full-fledged civil wars. Accordingly, one can observe a high degree of
29 instrumental rationality on the elite level of many violent conflicts. Doubtlessly, emotions
30 like hatred and desires for revenge play a central role, but rebellions will be sustained only
31 as long as these driving forces are directed and organized rationally.
32 Elites are also critical for the religious dimension of many conflicts. Interpretations are
33 a natural element of every religion. Abstract religious myths, writings, and contents can
34 only be applied to a permanently changing reality if they are interpreted. In every religious
35 community, one finds religious leaders that are accepted as legitimate interpreters of the

Received 30 November 2007; accepted 9 February 2008.

Address correspondence to Alexander de Juan, Post-graduate Research Programme, University
of Tuebingen, Melanchthonstr. 36, 72074 Tuebingen, Germany. E-mail: alexander.de-juan@uni-
tuebingen.de

1
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2 A. De Juan

36 common religious traditions. They interpret concrete situations in the light of their belief
37 systems, apply abstract theological content, and thus provide the believers with religious
38 norms and guiding principles.2 It is part of the genuine essence of religion that these
39 interpretations can neither be proved nor rejected.3 Accordingly, their acceptance by the
40 believers depends primarily on the religious authority of the interpreters.4 As for every
41 other aspect of religion, this holds true for religious calls for violence.
42 So-called religious conflicts are not the natural result of religious differences or
43 religious intolerance. Rather, in many cases they result from cooperation of political and
44 religious elites. The first try to use religion as an instrument for mobilization. The latter
45 cooperate to protect their religious communities, expand their religious influence, and
46 realize their religious agendas. The resulting entanglement of the two functions outlined
47 earlier constitutes the origin of many violent conflicts with strong religious dimensions.
48 Political elites plan and coordinate combat operations; religious leaders persuade the
49 believers of the religious necessity of the violent struggle. This article will illustrate the
50 central background and features of such alliances from the perspective of the cooperating
51 actors. The final section addresses obstacles to the cooperation.

52 Political–Religious Cooperation
53 Cooperation of political and religious elites can be observed in many violent conflicts
54 like in the Philippines, Thailand, Chechnya, or India. Mainly referring to the religious
55 legitimization of dictatorial regimes, different authors have pointed to the rational and
56 strategic background of such alliances:5 cooperation emerges when the two parties are
57 persuaded that the alliance will help them realize their respective aims. The same holds true
58 for cooperation in violent conflicts. Political elites cooperate with accepted and influential
59 religious leaders to achieve their political goals. They need their religious authority to
60 persuade the believers of the religious nature of the conflict and thus get access to religious
61 resources that can be used for mobilization. Religious elites cooperate with strong political
62 actors to get access to material and immaterial resources that help them to protect their
63 respective religious communities, extend their religious influence and thus to realize their
64 personal religious agendas. The crucial role of such alliances for the perpetuation of
65 religious conflicts is many cases hidden behind all too easy explanations on the basis
66 of primordial religious identities and differences. The war in Bosnia is often cited as a
67 prime example of the virulent nature of religious differences.6 The antagonisms between
68 Orthodox Serbs, Catholic Croats, and Muslim Bosnians are interpreted as the cause of
69 the war in 1992. Recent studies, however, contradict this view: before the outbreak of
70 the hostilities, religious identifications did not play a central role for the majority of the
71 population. Discrimination was hardly practiced and there were many instances of mixed
72 marriages: both indications that all three religious groups lived side by side in relative
73 amity, not enmity.7 Hence it is not “ancient hatred” that is responsible for the religious
74 dimension of the Bosnian conflict. Rather, orthodox clerics and nationalistic political elites
75 have cooperated to mutually support each other in the realization of their respective aims.
76 Milosevic needed the Orthodox Church to legitimize his claim for power as well as his
77 nationalistic and expansionist agenda. Orthodox clerics supported him with the aim to
78 regain their former influence in the Serbian society.8
79 In Nigeria, bloody armed struggles between Muslims and Christians have been going
80 on for decades. Again, peoples’ religious differences and irreconcilable claims to truth seem
81 to be the origin of these “religious conflicts.” However, detailed case studies demonstrate
82 that political and economic interests, not religious differences, constitute the source of
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A Pact with the Devil? 3

83 the conflict. Over the past years, Muslim elites in the Northern states have been losing
84 their political influence on the central government and fear for their income from state oil
85 revenues. In this situation, they used Islam to openly threaten the central government with
86 the religious radicalization of their followers. In order to make their threats credible and
87 to secure the support of the northern population, they needed the support of local Muslim
88 clerics. Several religious leaders were ready to support the elites to expand their religious
89 influence.9
90 In Sri Lanka, many Buddhist Singhalese regard themselves as a minority in Southeast
91 Asia and perceive their ethno-religious identity to be threatened.10 Hence, the fight against
92 the Hindu Tamils in Northern Sri Lanka could be interpreted as a violent defensive reaction
93 by the Buddhist Singhalese. However, a look at the roots of the conflict clearly shows that
94 different mechanisms have been decisive to the development of radical Sinhala-Buddhism.
95 After the introduction of the general suffrage under the British colonial power, the country’s
96 elites feared the political and economic demands of their new constituency. They used
97 Buddhism to legitimize mass resettlements of Singhalese farmers to the northern part of
98 Sri Lanka and thus allow the great land owners to safeguard their supremacy over the huge
99 plantations in the South of the country.11 Within the Buddhist establishment, fundamentalist
100 proponents of a socially and politically active Buddhist clergy used the cooperation with
101 these new nationalist elites to prevail over concurring interpretations and to foster their
102 social–political agenda.12
103 The emergence and stability of these alliances can only be explained if more is known
104 about the motivations of the cooperating parties. What are their aims? How do they expect
105 cooperation to support the realization of these aims? Under which circumstances can these
106 motives be expected to be particularly strong? The following pages will propose some
107 preliminary answers to these questions from the perspective of political elites and religious
108 leaders.

109 The Perspective of Political Elites

110 Political elites strive for political power. The motives of this ambition are manifold.
111 Especially in situations where barely any alternatives exist to acquire wealth and influence
112 they will compete for scarce political positions to get access to natural resources or
113 international financial aid. Doubtlessly, they can also be driven by personal convictions,
114 values or claims for justice. No matter which aims they try to realize, if they are not able
115 to acquire the needed political power in a peaceful way, they will use alternative means.
116 One such alternative is the use of violence. In order to improve the prospects of violent
117 strategies, they will try to make use of any accessible resource. Religion can be interpreted
118 as one such resource.
119 Mobilizations rely on the existence of groups that identify themselves as distinct
120 communities and segregate themselves from other groups. This internal solidarity and
121 external separation can be intensified on the basis of religious narratives, rituals, and
122 myths.13 Fragmented societies can be integrated on the basis of common religious belief
123 systems. From the perspective of political elites this is especially important when the
124 population is fragmented along ethnic, social, or regional lines. In the Philippines, for
125 example, rebel leaders have used Islam to unite people from more than 30 different
126 ethnicities against the central government.14 On the other hand, religion can be used to
127 underscore the dissimilarity of groups that have traditionally been integrated. In Bosnia,
128 alliances of Serbian and Croatian nationalists and Orthodox and Catholic clerics have used
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4 A. De Juan

129 religion to stress the national and cultural unity of the Serbs and Croats and to portray their
130 differences as insurmountable divergences.15
131 Further, when conflicts are interpreted in a transcendental religious context, the
132 possibility of a peaceful solution is practically out of the question. The concept of holy
133 wars is crucial in this context. This sacralization of a conflict is usually accompanied
134 by a corresponding “satanization” of the enemy. If he is identified as a powerful and
135 mythic embodiment of evil, fears are created that underscore the impossibility of peaceful
136 compromise.16 Accordingly, political elites have in many situations cooperated with
137 religious elites to frame conflicts in religious terms. For the Miskitu in Nicaragua for
138 example, religious symbols and narratives grew in importance when the conflict with
139 the central government intensified. Local clerics interpreted the conflict as war with
140 the personification of the religious evil and thus excluded the possibility of a peaceful
141 settlement of the conflict with the Sandinistas.17 Similarly, Buddhist monks in Cambodia
142 publicly described the communists in Cambodia as “Mara” or “Dhmil” (atheist devil).
143 These classifications created strong feelings of fear and hatred in many Buddhist believers.
144 Hence, the resolution of the conflict without the total annihilation of the enemy seemed
145 impossible.18
146 Finally, through cooperation with legitimate religious leaders, political elites can get
147 access to material resources like financial support, informal networks, or international
148 contacts.19 These resources are of special value in regions where no alternative infrastructure
149 exists. The National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA), for example,
150 cooperated with protestant clerics to establish kibbutz-like camps in the Angolan highlands.
151 Thousands of rebels and their families lived in these “Terras Libres.” The cooperation with
152 religious leaders enabled the rebels to run schools and hospitals and to mobilize international
153 financial support. Similarly, rebel groups in the Philippines and Thailand cooperated with
154 local Muslim leaders to get access to mosques and religious schools (madrassahs) for
155 recruitment and mobilization.20
156 The specific value of these resources depends on different factors. Structural
157 features influence the value of the religious mobilizations itself. They determine whether
158 mobilizations on the basis of religious agendas can be successful at all. Put differently: they
159 influence the effectiveness of religious agitations. Simultaneously, formal characteristics
160 of religious communities determine whether alliances with religious leaders can be an
161 effective instrument for the required religious mobilization, that is, can religious leaders
162 actually persuade the believers of the necessity to fight?
163 It is close to trivial that religious mobilization campaigns will be especially effective
164 in cases where religion plays a central role in the identity formation of the people. Among
165 Muslims in the Philippines and Chechnya, for example, Islam has traditionally been an
166 important identity marker. Hence, mobilizations on the basis of identified threats to religion
167 have been particularly effective. On the other hand, if religious identities only play marginal
168 roles or are of secondary importance as compared to other identities like nationality,
169 ethnicity, or clan, the value of religious mobilizations is limited.21 In Kosovo, for example,
170 religion plays a secondary role as an identity marker. Hence, a mobilization on the basis of
171 diagnosed threats to Islam would have been little promising as compared to a mobilization
172 of the basis of Albanian nationalism. Accordingly, religion played a minor role in the
173 violent conflict at the end of 1990s.22
174 But it is not only the absolute importance of religious identities that influence the
175 effectiveness of religious mobilizations. The relation to other identity markers matters, too.
176 Where religious identities run parallel to other identities like nationality or ethnicity they
177 can be used more effectively for the segregation from other communities can be particularly
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A Pact with the Devil? 5

178 effective.23 In Sri Lanka, Bosnia, and Chechnya religious and ethnic/national borders run
179 largely parallel. In all three cases the fate of religion has been directly linked to the fate of
180 the nation. Hence, both identity markers reinforced each other in the formation of distinctive
181 groups and have been used effectively to polarize the different communities. On the other
182 hand, the potential of religious mobilizations is limited when religious borders are not
183 parallel to other important identity markers. In the Senegalese Casamance region, among
184 the Karen in Burma or the Tamils in Sri Lanka, religious mobilizations are hindered by
185 the fact that the ethnic groups do not correspond to the religious ones. In such situation
186 agitations on the basis of religious agendas risk to obviate potential support in the population
187 and might even trigger support for the military opposition.
188 Finally, the institutional capacity and the regional concentration of religious communi-
189 ties are essential.24 Communities that dispose of international contacts, centralized formal
190 structures, and strong endowments with material and financial resources can contribute to
191 mobilization more effectively than informal communities with weak resource dispositions.
192 Similarly, it seems plausible that religious mobilizations are more promising when the
193 believers are regionally concentrated like in the Philippines, Thailand, Indonesia, India, or
194 Burma, as such spatial concentration reduces the costs for organisation and coordination.25
195 The second central question is whether the cooperation with religious elites itself
196 can be effective. Political elites will only form and maintain alliances when their
197 cooperation partners are able to transmit the needed radical religious interpretations to
198 their constituencies. In this context, it is essential that religious leaders dispose of a certain
199 degree of interpretational freedom. Religious calls for violence are highly selective: while
200 those traditions are stressed that legitimate violence, contradicting elements are oppressed.
201 The believers will only accept such simplifying interpretations if they are not able to
202 recognize them as such. If religious communities dispose of mechanisms that prevent such
203 reductions of complexity, the interpretational leeway of religious leaders is reduced. This,
204 in turn, decreases the effectiveness of alliances with religious elites from the political elites’
205 perspective.
206 Regarding religious leaders’ interpretational freedom, the first crucial question is
207 whether they are able to shield their constituencies from alternative, potentially concurring
208 interpretations of other religious leaders. The establishment of such monopolies of
209 interpretation is possible when religious communities are isolated on the transnational
210 level, if their grass-root organizations are underdeveloped (e.g., laic organizations), when
211 their organization is decentralized and if they are only weakly integrated inward. These
212 characteristics inhibit the believers’ access to interpretations of different religious leaders
213 and restrict their ability to question selective religious interpretations on the basis of
214 alternative religious messages. In Nigeria, for example, numerous conflicts between and
215 within different Sufi-brotherhoods and self claimed Islamic reformist movements lead to a
216 strong segregation of different Islamic groups.26 This mutual isolation deprives the believers
217 of the access to alternative interpretations and thus increases the interpretational freedom of
218 individual religious leaders. Similarly, in eastern Congo numerous communities are largely
219 isolated from any wider religious structure. In such a situation local religious leaders
220 can easily provide the believers with radical and ethnically discriminating interpretations,
221 without be challenged by alternative interpretations.27 Finally, in Sri Lanka Buddhist
222 monks are traditionally concerned about the unity of the religious establishment (sangha).
223 Accordingly, deviances from the theological mainstream are considered a grave sin.28 The
224 result is that an open and critical discussion about religion and different traditions cannot
225 emerge. Hence, the believers do not have access to public discussions about different
226 theological positions and controversies.
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6 A. De Juan

227 Religious leaders’ interpretational leeway cannot only be restricted by alternative

228 religious elites but also by the believers themselves. Only if they are not educated in
229 the central myths, rituals, and narratives and if they are not aware of the complexity of
230 their religious traditions, will they accept selective, one-sided interpretations. Hence, Scott
231 Appleby blames the “religious illiteracy” of Croats and Serbs for the population’s tolerance
232 of the politics of violence in Bosnia.29 Referring to civil war in Sri Lanka, Eva K. Neumaier
233 finds that the Buddhist population has systematically been cut off from their traditions by the
234 British colonial regime, which fostered the spreading of an artificial “protestant Buddhism”
235 prone to nationalistic and militant agitation against the Tamils.30 In several violent conflicts,
236 rebel movements themselves have become aware of the importance of religious education.
237 In the camps of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) in the Philippines, for example,
238 religious seminars for supporters and combatants of the movement are organized regularly.
239 In the occupied territories, schools have been opened to disperse religious interpretations
240 that legitimize the violent resistance against the central government.31

241 The Perspective of Religious Elites

242 The primary aim of religious elites is the protection of their religious communities and
243 the expansion of their religious influence. Both aims can derive from profane and selfish
244 interests or from sincere religious convictions. Elites can try to protect their communities
245 in order to safeguard their own position within these communities. They can try to gain
246 religious influence in order to acquire personal power and wealth. On the other hand, they
247 can try to protect their communities because they feel responsible for their constituencies.
248 They can try to expand their religious influence because they are convinced that they follow
249 the only true belief and thus want to spread it and realize the social visions that derive
250 from it. Whether they derive from selfish or genuinely religious motives, these general
251 aims imply several concrete objectives. First of all, with respect to alternative religious
252 communities, religious leaders will try to prevent conversions to other religions and—in
253 cases of proselytizing communities—foster the expansion of their community.32 Similarly,
254 within their communities, they will try to defend their individual beliefs and convictions
255 against alternative ones and to expand their internal religious influence. Some religious
256 beliefs imply concrete social and political agendas. Hence, religious leaders will try to
257 shape societies and political systems according to these social and political visions.
258 The realization of all these objectives depends among others on the religious leaders’
259 access to different resources. The enlargement of the religious community, the dominance
260 of specific religious interpretations within religious communities and the implementation
261 of specific social and political agendas do not only depend on the attractiveness of specific
262 religious streams. The success of individual religious leaders will also depend on their
263 financial endowment as well as the present political context. Their disposition of material
264 and financial resources as well as positive or negative political discriminations will influence
265 religious leaders’ ability to realize their objectives. Religious leaders are often depicted as
266 being irrational because their aims at least partly derive from otherworldly beliefs and
267 inspirations. However, such assessments mistakenly refer rationality to the aims and not to
268 the means. The fact that in many cases religious leaders’ aims do not have worldly sources
269 does not mean that they will not try to realize them in a rational, goal-oriented way. Hence,
270 they will cooperate with strong political elites when they expect that these alliances will
271 provide them with access to the resources they need to realize their objectives.33
272 Religious leaders need specific material and organizational resources for the mainte-
273 nance and enlargement of their religious influence: churches, mosques, or temples as well
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A Pact with the Devil? 7

274 as clerics and social services have to be financed. The exercise and transmission of religion
275 needs specific institutional and juridical conditions. Access to religious education and health
276 services plays an important role in the proselytizing efforts of many religious communities.
277 This access is dependant on specific laws and concessions from the government. Moreover,
278 organizational concessions can also consist of the discrimination and suppression of
279 concurring religious communities and leaders.34 Especially the status of state religion is
280 accompanied by different privileges, that have time and again motivated religious leaders to
281 become politically active to realize such a special status for their own religious communities.
282 When Buddhism was declared the state religion in Burma, Buddhist religious education
283 was introduced in state schools and universities, statues of Buddha were built in public
284 buildings, and Buddhist holidays were also introduced.35 The Orthodox Church in Russia
285 used its privileged position as the state religion to foster wide discriminating measures
286 against the Catholic Church.36 Recent developments in Thailand impressively demonstrate
287 how the status of state religion and the accompanying privileges are still motivating many
288 religious communities to become active. Countless Buddhist monks went to the street and
289 demonstrated to make Buddhism the state religion, despite the well-known fact that this
290 might lead to a re-escalation of the tensions with the Muslim minority.37
291 Finally, popularity can be a motive for cooperation. Political messages and programs
292 can mobilize strong support. Especially for less established religious leaders religious
293 legitimization of these programs can be an opportunity to increase their personal religious
294 influence.38 Accordingly, in many cases very popular conflicts and political elites have
295 been supported by religious elites. With the growing popularity of the Sandinista National
296 Liberation Front (FSLN) in Nicaragua, many Catholic bishops formed alliances with the
297 FSLN in order to secure their own support from the population.39 The refusal to support
298 popular conflicts can cost religious elites their authority among the believers. In Iraq,
299 the moderate Shiite Cleric Seyyid Ali Grand Ayatollah al-Sistani has continuously lost
300 his popular support since the fall of the Ba’ath-regime. The increasing attacks by Sunni
301 extremists led to increasing calls for revenge from the Shi’ite population. Al-Sistani’s calls
302 for moderation contradicted the Shi’ites growing demands for a religious legitimization of
303 the use of violence against the Sunnites and thus contributed to the decline of his religious
304 influence.40
305 The specific value of all these resources is primarily dependant on the present position
306 of the religious leader. For their institutional survival, religious communities are dependant
307 on a minimum of the abovementioned resources. If they do not dispose of a minimum
308 of these resources by themselves, they will try to get cooperate with political elites.41
309 The Orthodox Church in Serbia has been marginalized by the communist regime of the
310 Yugoslavian Federation for decades. In the name of the separation of church and state,
311 religious school education has been abolished, churches have been expropriated, and an
312 internal division of the church has been fostered by the creation of a separate Macedonian
313 Church.42 Due to its extremely low resource endowment, the church has been especially
314 accessible for cooperation with nationalistic Serbian politicians. Similarly, for the Moravian
315 Church, the withdrawal of U.S. companies from eastern Nicaragua in the 1960s and 1970s
316 has been accompanied by the loss of their central sources of income. Hence, the pastors
317 were increasingly dependant of the local economy and their fate was bound to the fate
318 of their constituencies. This prevented them from taking a more critical stance toward the
319 increasingly popular Miskitu-nationalism.43
320 Such existential dependencies from material support are not the only factors that
321 can increase the value of the aforementioned political resources. Perceived or real threats
322 stemming from strong inter- or intra-religious concurrence or political discrimination by
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8 A. De Juan

323 antagonistic political elites can be strong motivations to form for alliances with political
324 elites.
325 Case studies demonstrate that cooperation of political elites and religious leaders are
326 especially likely if religious communities face a loss of relative relevance and influence
327 as compared to other communities.44 This can be due to successful proselytizing efforts
328 of other communities, migration, or demographic changes resulting from differing birth
329 and death rates. In many cases the leaders of such pressured communities have sought
330 the support of political elites. In Nigeria, for example, the increasing number of different
331 Christian and Muslim communities has intensified the competition of their respective
332 religious leaders. In their attempts to stabilize their constituencies, religious elites have
333 on many occasions tried to cooperate with local or national strongmen.45 Similarly, the
334 Catholic Church in South America and Africa has cooperated especially closely with
335 colonial governments and dictatorial regimes when their dominant social influence has
336 been threatened by successful proselytizing of protestant communities.46 Currently, such
337 processes are especially visible with respect to the aggressive proselytizing efforts of
338 different Pentecostal churches. In many countries their efforts to enlarge their communities
339 is very successful and thus leads to strong perceptions of threat among established religious
340 communities. As a result, leaders of “threatened” communities often cooperate with political
341 elites to protect their constituencies. The proliferation of evangelical groups after the peace
342 process in the years 2002 and 2003 intensified the abovementioned minority complex of
343 many Buddhist Singhalese. Hence, many Buddhist monks again turned to nationalistic
344 political elites for example to realize a law against “unethical conversions” from Buddhism
345 to other religions.47
346 Similarly, internal situations of concurrence can act as strong motivations for religious
347 leaders to cooperate with political elites. Different theological positions, worldviews, and
348 conceptions of society can clash within single religious communities. Conflicts can, for
349 example, arise between liberal and orthodox streams or between different theological
350 positions of clerical elites on the one hand and the religious middle management on the
351 other hand.48 In Bosnia, for example, the conflict of local Franciscan friars and diocese
352 priests played a crucial role in the religious legitimization of local militias during the civil
353 war in the 1990s. The origin of this conflict goes back to the Middle Ages and centers on
354 dogmatic differences and competition for material resources. While the Catholic hierarchy
355 in Bosnia and Croatia had a moderate sympathy for the Tudjman regime, many local priests
356 and Franciscan friars played an active role in the promotion of nationalism in order to
357 expand their local influence.49 The driving force of internal conflicts can also be observed
358 in Sri Lanka. De Silva and Bartholomeusz describe how different members of the religious
359 hierarchy are in a spiritual concurrence to each other and how they use their contacts to
360 political elites to prevail over their rivals.50
361 Beside such dogmatic matters, much more profane issues can lead to conflicts among
362 different religious leaders. In many developing countries established churches constitute
363 the only possibility beneath the state to acquire wealth and power. Hence, competitions
364 for material resources or power can emerge in religious communities comparable to the
365 ones on the state level. In Rwanda, clerical Hutu elites used their strong connections to the
366 Habyarimana regime and its radical anti-Tutsi policy to secure their positions within the
367 Catholic Church. In the 1990s the Catholic hierarchy was under mounting pressure due
368 to increasing calls for a reformation of the church. Simultaneously, charismatic and laic
369 movements within the church grew in importance. Thus, the established hierarchy felt its
370 privileged position threatened und kept up its strong connection to political elites even in
371 the wake of the beginning genocide, to secure its clerical supremacy.51
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372 Such threats can not only emanate from alternative religious communities or concurring
373 religious leaders but also from political elites. They might, for example, try to weaken a
374 specific religious community because they are supported from an alternative one that
375 demands discriminating practices against their concurrence. One reason for might be that
376 they are supported from alternative religious leaders that demand the discrimination of the
377 relevant community. Moreover, if religious communities and their leaders dispose of strong
378 influence in the society, political elites might perceive them as threat to their absolute rule.
379 In former Zaire President Mobutu perceived the powerful Catholic Church as a threat to the
380 totalitarian claims of his single party. Accordingly, he tried to reduce the Church’s influence
381 through repressive laws.52 Such political discrimination can motivate religious leaders to
382 form alliances with political counterparties. In the course a forced integration-program by
383 the Thai government in the predominantly Muslim south of the country, the Sharia was
384 replaced by secular Thai law, local elites have been deprived of their power, and local
385 Islamic schools were closed and replaced by public ones.53 This way, the basis of influence
386 of the Ulama has been destroyed. Many clerics began supporting rebel groups in their fight
387 against the central government.54 In Angola Protestant churches were first persecuted by the
388 colonial regime and later by the Marxist Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola
389 (MPLA) government. In this context strong alliances emerged between Protestant clerics
390 and the UNITA. In the “Terras Libres” these clerics have been integrated in decision-making
391 processes and were allowed to maintain their international contacts and to hold their church
392 services.55

393 Obstacles to Political–Religious Alliances

394 The conflicts in Sri Lanka, Israel, Ireland, and Nigeria demonstrate that alliances of religious
395 leaders and political elites can be relatively stable. However, in many cases they are far
396 from static. Within such alliances conflicts and concurrence can emerge that can lead to an
397 alteration of the specific features of the cooperation. This holds especially true for symmetric
398 alliances in which the cooperating parties dispose of comparable power and resources like in
399 Serbia or Sri Lanka. One reason why the Serbian Orthodox Church supported nationalistic
400 politicians in Bosnia and Serbia was the expectation of a privileged position within a
401 “pure” greater Serbia. When Milosevic distanced himself from his expansionistic plans
402 due to mounting international pressure, the church criticized him severely and finally
403 declared him as a traitor of the Serbian population. Instead, Karadzic became the new
404 central cooperation partner of the Orthodox Church.56 Similarly, in Sri Lanka time and
405 again conflicts emerged within the alliance of Buddhist monks and nationalistic politicians.
406 Each time political elites agreed to negotiate with the Tamil rebels radical monks have
407 exerted pressure on them to prevent any concessions to the minority’s claims for autonomy.
408 On the other hand, different political elites have tried to realize their aims against the will of
409 their cooperation partners. President Jayawardene, for example, has tried to implement his
410 personal religious interpretations and to pursue a policy of free market economy, rejected
411 by the Sri Lankan Sangha.57
412 However, such internal conflicts do not seem to endanger the cooperation itself, as long
413 as the aforementioned foundations of the alliance persist. Accordingly, one has to ask how
414 these foundations can be influenced. Practical measures can either focus on the motives for
415 cooperation of the political elites or on the motives of the religious leaders.
416 Political elites’ willingness to cooperate with religious leaders depends on the value of
417 religious mobilizations. Whereas the effectiveness of religious agitations depends on context
418 factors that can barely be influenced purposefully, the effectiveness of cooperating with
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419 religious elites can be reduced by diminishing religious leaders’ interpretational freedom.
420 In this context, one crucial measure is the integration of the believers into complex religious
421 structures in which they have access to different religious authorities. Practical steps could
422 be the transnational integration of religious communities. Their contacts to the World
423 Council of Churches (WCC) and the World Alliance of Reformed Churches (WARC)
424 helped South African communities to uphold a critical stance toward elements of their
425 religious traditions that could have been used to legitimate the use of violence against the
426 Apartheid regime. The establishment of base communities can act in a similar way. In
427 the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), for example, they provided the believers
428 with an opportunity to critically discuss their beliefs and interpretations and thus acted as
429 obstacles to the religious manipulation by clerics that were close to the state.58 Further, the
430 actual presence of different interpretations is crucial. Communication channels have to exist
431 through which the believer gets access to different interpretations (e.g., radio transmissions,
432 pastoral letters, or information leaflets). There is no need for complex structures and a lively
433 debate on different interpretations if the believers cannot access them. Hence, concrete
434 measures can aim at establishing appropriate communication channels within religious
435 communities.
436 Another concrete measure that can reduce religious leaders’ freedom of interpretation
437 is religious education. Practical steps have to aim at the overcoming of literal interpretations
438 and the promotion of the believers’ awareness of the complexity of their own and
439 other religious traditions.59 Recent studies show that the susceptibility to radical and
440 selective interpretations decreases with an increasing degree of religious development and
441 education.60 Dialogue and contact programs on the grass-roots level can have comparable
442 effects. Marc Gopin, for example, stresses that destructive religious mythifications like in
443 Bosnia or Sri Lanka can only be effective if the parties to the conflict are isolated from each
444 other.61 Encounter and dialogue can restrict religious leaders’ freedom of interpretation in
445 a way that stereotype judgements of other religions are inhibited by the believer’s personal
446 experience. The Israel Interfaith Association, for example, has been engaged in dialogue
447 programs since 1959 to foster mutual understanding and respect among different faiths and
448 ethnicities. Similarly, Imam Muhammad Ashafa and Pastor James Wuye established the
449 Muslim–Christian Dialogue and Interfaith Mediation Center in Nigeria to foster mutual
450 respect for the religious, cultural, and historic heritage of both religions. The few existing
451 empirical studies on the impact of such initiatives have moderately optimistic results that
452 justify the support of dialogue and contact programs.62
453 Concrete measures may also try to influence religious leaders’ readiness to cooperate
454 with political elites. Contrary to what has been said referring to the political elites, the
455 factors that motivate religious leaders to forma alliances can rather be influenced than the
456 specific value of the cooperation. The resource endowment of political elites and their ability
457 to support religious leaders can barely be influenced externally. It seems more promising
458 to concentrate on the factors that induce religious leaders to form alliances. First of all, it
459 is essential that religious communities are not dependant on political actors for securing
460 their institutional survival. The disposition of financial and organizational resources that
461 enable religious communities to survive independently reduces their motivation to cooperate
462 with political elites. One example is the Catholic Church in the DRC. Despite the drastic
463 repressive measures of the Mobutu-regime during the “Authencité-campaign” the Catholic
464 hierarchy was able to uphold its critical stance toward the government. The Church’s
465 strong independent influence in the society enabled it to maintain its independent and
466 critical voice even during the military campaign against the Mobutu-regime in the 1990s.63
467 Similarly, the Shi’ite clergy in Iraq traditionally has a relatively high degree of autonomy
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468 from state institutions, because the believers are obligated to support their religious leaders
469 directly. This independence allowed Grand Ayatollah al-Sistani to keep a critical distance
470 from Shi’ite insurgency leaders and to call the believers to moderation.64 In this context,
471 practical measures can include the reduction of obstacles to the autonomy of religious
472 communities as well as focused financial support. The second Vatican Council introduced
473 the National Conferences of Bishops to make the national churches more independent
474 from national governments. In the southern Philippines the ending of martial law was
475 accompanied by increasing funding of local mosques and religious schools by international
476 donors. This enabled many local clerics to free themselves from local patronage and to take
477 a more critical stance toward the violent struggle for independence.65 Similarly, due to the
478 increasing funding of its human rights program, the Catholic Church in Chile was able to
479 free itself of its dependence from the government and to take a critical position toward the
480 Pinochet-regime.66
481 Beside the advancement of religious communities’ autonomy practical measures can
482 aim at reducing perceived threats by alternative religions and religious leaders. Inter- and
483 intra-religious initiatives that aim at establishing contacts and organizing dialogues on
484 the level of the religious leaders are crucial in the context. For example, in Bosnia the
485 ecumenical relations between the three communities were very weak. Before the civil
486 war this mutual isolation strengthened the conjunction of national and religious identities.
487 Every religion tried to enhance its position in the state and felt threatened in this aim by the
488 other communities.67 Such perceived threats can be reduced through a fortification of the
489 ecumenical relations. In Tanzania for example, the increasing inter-religious competition
490 due to the inflow of evangelical and Islamic groups led to the establishment of an inter-
491 religious council where Muslim, Catholic, and Protestant religious leaders meet regularly to
492 discuss topics of shared interest.68 Comparable initiatives are not only important among but
493 also within religious communities. In the 1990s the Sri Lankan Sangha has systematically
494 tried to enhance the relationships of the three existing monk orders. The amelioration of
495 the intra-religious relations reduced conflicts within the religious establishment and thus
496 made it harder for politicians to get the support of individual religious leaders.69
497 Finally, practical measures can aim at reducing perceived threats stemming from
498 antagonistic political elites. A study conducted by Jonathan Fox finds that a separation
499 of church and state can only be observed in 22 percent of the 152 analyzed countries, even
500 if the classification is relatively tolerant.70 Discriminatory practices that often accompany
501 such connections can act as motivation for religious leaders to cooperate with opposition
502 movements. Accordingly, the enhancement of the freedom of religion and the separation
503 of church and state plays a major role in the prevention of political–religious cooperation.

504 Conclusion
505 The religion–conflict nexus is too complex to be comprehensively explained on the basis
506 of a simple theoretical model. Religion can influence conflicts in many different ways that
507 can hardly be traced back to one common causal mechanism. Hence, research can either
508 restrict itself to mere descriptions of the role of religions in violent conflicts as to stay as
509 close as possible to the observable reality or it can try to approach the complex reality
510 analytically step by step. This article follows the second strategy. It leaves open a lot of
511 important questions and does not seek to explain all of the manifold ways in which religion
512 can influence conflicts. Rather, on the basis of a simple elite-centered theoretical model, it
513 aims at identifying some of the dynamics that are relevant to the religion–conflict nexus.
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514 Violent movements can only pertain in the long run if political elites organize and
515 coordinate them centrally. The same holds true for the religious dimension of many
516 conflicts. The believers have to be persuaded of the religious nature of their struggle as
517 well as the religious duty to use violence. Religious elites are essential in this context. They
518 disseminate religious calls for violence and provide their constituencies with religious
519 interpretations that legitimate the use of violence. Simultaneously, they dismiss any
520 contradicting interpretations that call for peace or moderation. Hence, in many cases the
521 religious dimension of violent conflicts can be traced back to alliances of religious and
522 political elites. The first try to protect their religious communities and hope to expand
523 their religious influence. The latter try to use religion as a resource for mobilization:
524 if the structural conditions make religious agitation seem effective political elites will
525 instrumentalize religion to realize their personal aims.
526 A closer look at such alliances indicates different starting points for concrete measures
527 that might make the emergence and sustainability of political–religious cooperation less
528 likely. The central aim of the practical provisions is the reduction of the motives for
529 cooperation. A specific reduction of religious leaders’ interpretation leeway through
530 religious education and a structural protection of a religious pluralism seem especially
531 promising. Simultaneously, the incentives of the religious elites have to be reduced.
532 Perceived threats by alternative religious communities and concurring religious leaders
533 can be reduced through contact and dialogue initiatives on the elite level. Cooperation on
534 the basis of perceived threats by antagonistic political elites can be reduced through the
535 realization of the freedom of religion and the separation of church and state.
536 Needless to say, the proposed mechanisms and starting points for preventive measures
537 are far from being elaborated. The illustrations in this article rely primarily on anecdotal
538 evidence rather than on systematic empirical analysis. Hence, the postulation of practical
539 measures herein are not meant as recipes for concrete measures; rather, they are intended to
540 stimulate a discussion on possible concrete provisions that is remote from the rather fatalist
541 stance of primordialist explanations of the role of religion in conflicts.

542 Notes
543 1. See, for example, Carnegie Commission on Preventing Deadly Conflict, Preventing
544 Deadly Conflict (New York: Carnegie Corporation of New York, 1997); Steven R. David, “Internal
545 War—Causes and Cures,” World Politics, 49(4) (1997), pp. 552–576; Michelle Garfinkel and Stergios
546 Skaperdas, “Conflict without Misperceptions or Incomplete Information: How the Future Matters,”
547 The Journal of Conflict Resolution, 44(6) (2000), pp. 793–807; Ted Robert Gurr, Peoples versus States:
548 Minorities at Risk in the New Century (Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace Press, 2000);
549 Wenche Hauge and Tanja Ellingsen, “Beyond Environmental Scarcity: Causal Pathways to Conflict,”
550 Journal of Peace Research, 35(3) (1998), pp. 299–317; Nicholas Sambanis, “A Review of Recent
551 Advances and Future Directions in the Quantitative Literature on Civil Wars,” Defence and Peace
552 Economics, 13(3) (2002), pp. 215–243.
553 2. Scott Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred. Religion, Violence, and Reconciliation
554 (Lanham et al.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000), pp. 117–118.
555 3. Thomas Scheffler, “Introduction. Religion between Violence and Reconciliation,” in
556 Thomas Scheffler, ed., Religion between Violence and Reconciliation (Würzburg: Ergon Verlag,
557 2002), pp. 1–27; Scott Thomas, “Religion and International Conflict,” in Ken Dark, ed., Religion
558 and International Relations (New York: Palgrave, 2000), pp. 1–23; David C. Rapoport, “Comparing
559 Militant Fundamentalist Movements and Groups,” in Martin E. Marty and Scott R. Appleby, eds.,
560 Fundamentalism and the State: Remaking Politics, Economies, and Militancy (Chicago: University
561 Press of Chicago, 1993), pp. 429–461.
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562 4. Paul N. Anderson, “Religion and Violence. From Pawn to Scapegoat,” in J. Harold Ellens,
563 ed., The Destructive Power of Religion. Violence in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (Westport, CT:
564 Praeger, 2004), pp. 265–283.
565 5. See, for example, Jonathan Fox and Shmuel Sandler, Bringing Religion into International
566 Relations (New York: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2004); Anthony Gill, Rendering unto Caesar. The
567 Catholic Church and the State in Latin America (Chicago/London: University of Chicago Press, 1998);
568 Anthony Gill and Arang Keshavarzian, “State Building and Religious Resources: An Institutional
569 Theory of Church-State Relations in Iran and Mexico,” Politics & Society, 27(3) (1999), pp. 431–465.
570 6. For example Samuel P. Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World
571 Order (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996).
572 7. Mitja Velikonja, Religious Separation and Political Intolerance in Bosnia-Herzegovina
573 (College Station, TX: A&M University Press, 2003), p. 26; Stephanie van de Loo, “Religion als
574 Kriegsgewand? Zur Rolle von Religion im Bürgerkrieg in Bosnien-Herzegowina 1991–1995,” in
575 Mathias Hildebrandt and Manfred Brocker, eds., Unfriedliche Religionen? Das politische Gewalt-
576 und Konfliktpotenzial von Religionen (Berlin: VS, 2005), pp. 225–244.
577 8. Velkonja, Religious Separation and Political Intolerance in Bosnia-Herzegovina; Michael
578 Sells, “Religion, History, and Genocide in Bosnia-Herzegovina,” in G. Scott Davis, ed., Religion and
579 Justice in the War over Bosnia (New York/London: Routledge), pp. 23–44.
580 9. Johannes Harnischfeger, Demokratisierung und Islamisches Recht. Der Scharia-Konflikt in
581 Nigeria (Frankfurt: Campus, 2006); Jibrin Ibrahim, “Religion and Political Turbulence in Nigeria,”
582 The Journal of Modern African Studies, 29(1) (1991), pp. 115–136; Joseph Kenny, “Sharia and
583 Christianity in Nigeria: Islam and a ‘Secular’ State,” Journal of Religion in Africa, 26(4) (1996), pp.
584 338–364.
585 10. Tessa J. Bartholomeusz, In Defense of Dharma. Just-War Ideology in Buddhist Sri Lanka
586 (London/New York: Routledge, 2002), p. 96.
587 11. Jakob Rösel, “Buddhismus und Nationalismus: Feindbilder und Geschichtsbilder des
588 singhalesischen Nationalismus,” in Mathias Hildebrandt and Manfred Brocker, eds., Unfriedliche
589 Religionen? Das politische Gewalt- und Konfliktpotenzial von Religionen (Berlin: VS, 2005), pp.
590 245–276.
591 12. Sarath Amunugama, “Buddhaputra ans Bhumiputra? Dilemmas of Modern Sinhala
592 Buddhist Monks in Relation to Ethnic and Political Conflict,” Religion, 21 (1991), pp. 115–139;
593 Chandra R. De Silva and Tessa J. Bartholomeusz, The Role of the Sangha in the Reconciliation
594 Process, Marga Monograph Series on Ethnic Reconciliation, No. 16 (Sri Lanka: Marga Institute,
595 2001); H. L. Seneviratne, “Buddhist Monks and Ethnic Politics: A War Zone in an Island Paradise,”
596 Anthropology Today, 17(2) (2001), pp. 15–21.
597 13. See, for example, Anderson, “Religion and Violence,” p. 271; Appleby, The Ambivalence of
598 the Sacred, p. 61; Volkhard Krech, “Opfer und Heiliger Krieg: Gewalt aus religionswissenschaftlicher
599 Sicht,” in Internationale Handbuch der Gewaltforschung (Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag, 2002), pp.
600 1254–1275; Jefferey R. Seul, “‘Ours is the Way of God’: Religion, Identity and Intergroup Conflict,”
601 Journal of Peace Research, 36(3) (1999), pp. 553–569.
602 14. Maria Lorenza Palm-Dalupan, “The Religious Sector Building Peace: Some Examples
603 From the Philippines,” in Gerrie ter Haar and James J. Busuttil, eds., Bridge or Barrier. Religion,
604 Violence and Visions for Peace (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2005), pp. 225–274.
605 15. Loo,”Religion als Kriegsgewand?” p. 236; Srdjan Vrcan, “The Religious Factor and the
606 War in Bosnia and Herzegovina,” in Paul Mojzes, ed., Religion and the War in Bosnia (Atlanta, GA:
607 Scholars Press, 1998), pp. 108–131.
608 16. Mark Juergensmeyer, “The Worldwide Rise of Religious Nationalism,” Journal of
609 International Affairs, 50(1) (1996), pp. 1–20.
610 17. Susan Hawley, “Protestantism and Indigenous Mobilization: The Moravian Church among
611 the Miskitu Indians of Nicaragua,” Journal of Latin American Studies, 29(1) (1997), pp. 111–129.
612 18. Somboon Suksamran, “Buddhism, Political Authority, and Legitimacy in Thailand and
613 Cambodia,” in Trevor Ling, ed., Buddhist Trends in Southeast Asia (Singapore: Institute of Southeast
614 Asian Studies, 1993), pp. 101–153.
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615 19. Jonathan Fox, Ethnoreligious Conflict in the Late 20th Century: A General Theory (Oxford:
616 Lexington, 2002), p. 18; Hank Johnston and Josez Figa, “The Church and Political Opposition:
617 Comparative Perspectives on Mobilization against Authoritarian Regimes,” Journal for the Scientific
618 Study of Religion, 27(1) (1988), pp. 32–47.
619 20. Peter Chalk, “Separatism and Southeast Asia. The Islamic Factor in Southern Thailand,
620 Mindanao, and Aceh,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 24 (2001), pp. 241–269.
621 21. Ted Robert Gurr, Minorities at Risk. A Global View of Ethnopolitical Conflicts (Washington,
622 DC: United States Institute of Peace Press, 1993), p. 126.
623 22. Harry T. Norris, Islam in the Balkans. Religion and Society between Europe and the Arab
624 World (London: Hurst & Company, 1993), p. 276; Aydin Babuna, “The Albanians of Kosovo and
625 Macedonia: Ethnic Identity Superseding Religion,” Nationalities Papers, 28(1) (2000), pp. 67–92;
626 Gerlachlus Duijzings, Religion and the Politics of Identity in Kosovo (London: Hurst, 2000), pp.
627 159–160.
628 23. Theodor Hanf, “The Sacred Marker. Religion, Communalism, and Nationalism,” in Theodor
629 Hanf, ed., Dealing with Differences: Religion, Ethnicity, and Politics: Comparing Cases and Concepts
630 (Baden-Baden: Nomos, 1999), pp. 385–397; Jeff Haynes, “Religion in African Civil Wars,” in
631 Mathias Hildebrandt and Manfred Brocker, eds., Unfriedliche Religionen? Das politische Gewalt-
632 und Konfliktpotenzial von Religionen (Berlin: VS, 2005), pp. 277–294; Seul, “‘Ours is the Way of
633 God.’“
634 24. Jonathan Fox, Religion, Civilization, and Civil War. 1945 Through the New Millennium
635 (Oxford: Lexington, 2004); Gurr, Minorities at Risk.
636 25. Ibid.
637 26. Charlotte A. Quinn and Frederick Quinn, Pride, Faith, and Fear. Islam in Sub-Saharan
638 Africa (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003).
639 27. African Rights, The Cycle of Conflict. Which Way out of the Kivus? (London: African
640 Rights, 1998), p. 52; Timothy P. Longman, “Empowering the Weak and Protecting the Powerful:
641 The Contradictory Nature of Churches in Central Africa,” African Studies Review, 41(1) (1998), pp.
642 49–72.
643 28. De Silva and Bartholomeusz, The Role of the Sangha in the Reconciliation Process, p. 16.
644 29. Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred.
645 30. Eva K. Neumaier, “Missed Opportunities: Buddhism and the Ethnic Strife in Sri Lanka and
646 Tibet,” in Harold Coward and Gordon S. Smith, eds., Religion and Peacebuilding (Albany: State
647 University of New York Press, 2004), pp. 69–92.
648 31. Eric Gutierrez, “Religion and Politics in Muslim Mindanao,” in Kristina Gaerlan and
649 Mara Stankovitch, eds., Rebels, Warlords and Ulama. A Reader on Muslim Separatism and the
650 War in Southern Philippines (Quezon City, Philippines: Institute for Popular Democracy, 2000),
651 pp. 146–161; Eric Gutierrez and Abdulwahab Guiala, “The Unfinished Jihad: The Moro Islamic
652 Liberation Front and Peace in Mindanao,” in Kristina Gaerlan and Mara Stankovitch, eds., Rebels,
653 Warlords and Ulama. A Reader on Muslim Separatism and the War in Southern Philippines (Quezon
654 City, Philippines: Institute for Popular Democracy, 2000), pp. 265–292.
655 32. Fox, Religion, Civilization, and Civil War; Gill, Rendering unto Caesar.
656 33. See, for example, Fox, Ethnoreligious Conflict, p. 127; Gill, Rendering unto Caesar.
657 34. Ibid.; Gill and Keshavarzian, “State Building and Religious Resources”; David Kowalewski
658 and Arthur L. Greil, “Religion as Opiate: Church and Revolution in Comparative Structural
659 Perspective,” Journal of Church and State, 32 (1999), pp. 511–526.
660 35. Donald Eugene Smith, “The Limits of Religious Resurgence,” in Emile Saliyeh, ed.,
661 Religious Resurgence and Politics in Contemporary World (Albany: State University of New York
662 Press), pp. 33–44.
663 36. David Little, Ukraine. The Legacy of Intolerance (Washington, DC: United States Institute
664 of Peace Press, 1991).
665 37. “Official Buddhism may Stir Thai Unrest,” International Herald Tribune, 25 May 2007.
666 38. Liz Fawcett, Religion, Ethnicity, and Social Change (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000);
667 Fox, Religion, Civilization, and Civil War, p. 23.
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668 39. Dana Sawchuk, “The Catholic Church in the Nicaraguan Revolution: A Gramscian
669 Analysis,” Sociology of Religion, 58(1) (1997), pp. 39–51.
670 40. Juan Cole, “The Decline of Grand Ayatollah Sistani’s Influence,” in Andreas Hasenclever
671 and Alexander De Juan, eds., Religion, Krieg und Frieden, special issue of Die Friedens-Warte, 2–3
672 (2007), pp. 67–83.
673 41. Gill, Rendering unto Caesar, p. 56.
674 42. Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred. Religion, p. 66; Loo, “Religion als Kriegsge-
675 wand?” pp. 230–232.
676 43. Hawley, “Protestantism and Indigenous Mobilization,” p. 116.
677 44. Gill, Rendering unto Caesar.
678 45. Ibrahim, “Religion and Political Turbulence in Nigeria,” p. 124.
679 46. Gill, Rendering unto Caesar; Alex Vines and Ken Wilson, “Churches and the Peace Process
680 in Mozambique,” in Paul Gifford, ed., The Christian Churches and the Democratisation of Africa
681 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), pp. 130–147.
682 47. Rohan Edrisinha, “Religion and Nationalism in Recent Peace Initiatives in Sri Lanka”
683 in David Little and Donald K. Swaerer, eds., Religion and Nationalism in Iraq: A Comparative
684 Perspective (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007), pp. 87–86.
685 48. Jeff Haynes, Religion and Politics in Africa (Nairobi/London: East African Educational
686 Publishers/Zed Books, 1996); Johnston and Figa, “The Church and Political Opposition,” p. 42.
687 49. Lenard J. Cohen, “Bosnia’s ‘Tribal Gods’: The Role of Religion in Nationalist Politics,” in
688 Paul Mojzes, ed., Religion and the War in Bosnia (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1998), pp. 43–73;
689 Sells, “Religion, History, and Genocide in Bosnia-Herzegovina,” p. 319; Mart Bax, “Warlords, Priests
690 and the Politics of Ethnic Cleansing: A Case Study from Rural Bosnia Herzegovina,” in Ethnic and
691 Racial Studies, 23(1) (2000), pp. 16–36.
692 50. Chandra R. De Silva, “Buddhist Monks and Peace in Sri Lanka,” in Mahinda Deegalle, ed.,
693 Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka (London/New York: Routledge, 2006), pp.
694 202–209; De Silva and Bartholomeusz, The Role of the Sangha in the Reconciliation Process.
695 51. Tmothy Longman, “Church Politics and the Genocide in Rwanda,” Journal of Religion
696 in Africa, 31(2) (2001), pp. 163–186; Saskia Van Hoyweghen, “The Disintegration of the Catholic
697 Church of Rwanda: A Study of the Fragmentation of Political and Religious Authority,” African
698 Affairs, 95 (1996), pp. 379–401.
699 52. Wamu Oyatambwe, Eglise catholique et pouvoir politique au congo-zaire. La quete
700 démocratique (Paris: L’Harmattan, 1997); Gérard Prunier, “The Catholic Church and the Kivu
701 Conflict,” Journal of Religion in Africa, 31(2) (2001), pp. 139–162.
702 53. S. P. Harish, “Ethnic or Religious Cleavage? Investigating the Nature of the Conflict in
703 Southern Thailand,” Contemporary Southeast Asia, 28(1) (2006), pp. 48–69; Syed Serajul Islam,
704 “The Islamic Independence Movements in Patani of Thailand and Mindanao of the Philippines,”
705 Asian Survey, 38(5) (1998), pp. 441–456.
706 54. Chalk, “Separatism and Southeast Asia,” p. 243.
707 55. Linda M. Heywood, “Unita and Ethnic Nationalism in Angola,” The Journal of Modern
708 African Studies, 27(1) (1996), pp. 47–66; Benedict Schubert, Der Krieg und die Kirchen. Angola
709 1961–1991 (Luzern: Edition Exodus, 1997).
710 56. Cohen, “Bosnia’s ‘Tribal Gods,’“ p. 71; Velikonja, Religious Separation and Political
711 Intolerance in Bosnia-Herzegovina, pp. 265–267.
712 57. See, for example, Amunugama, “Buddhaputra ans Bhumiputra?”; Seneviratne, “Buddhist
713 Monks and Ethnic Politics.”
714 58. Colette Braeckman, Terreur Africaine. Burundi, Rwanda, Zaı̈re: Les Racines de la Violence
715 (Paris: Fayard, 1996), p. 55.
716 59. Heinz Streib, “Fundamentalism as a Challenge for Religious Education,” Religious
717 Education, 96(2) (2001), pp. 227–244.
718 60. Gary Leak and Brandy A. Randall, “Clarification of the Link Between Right-Wing
719 Authoritanism and Religiousness: The Role of Religious Maturity,” Journal for the Scientific
720 Study of Religion, 34(2) (1995), pp. 245–252; Fritz Oser and Anton Bucher, “Religiosität,
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721 Religionen und Glaubens- und Wertegemeinschaften,” in Rolf Oerter and Leo Montada, eds.,
722 Entwicklungspsychologie. 5., vollständig überarbeitete Auflage (Weinheim et al., 2002), pp. 940–954;
Q1
723 Hessel Zondag and Jacob Belzen, “Between Reduction of Uncertainty and Reflection: The Range
724 and Dynamics of Religious Judgment,” The International Journal for the Psychology of Religion,
725 9(1) (1999), pp. 63–81.
726 61. Marc Gopin, “The Use of the Word and Its Limits. A Critical Evaluation of Religious
727 Dialogue as Peacemaking,” in David Smock, ed., Interfaith Dialogue and Peacebuilding (Washington,
728 DC: United States Institute of Peace Press, 2001), pp. 33–46.
729 62. Colin Knox, “Conflict Resolution at the Microlevel: Community Relations in Northern
730 Ireland,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, 38(4) (1994), pp. 595–619; Colin Knox and Joanne Hughes,
731 “Crossing the Divide: Community Relations in Northern Ireland,” Journal of Peace Research, 33(1)
732 (1996), pp. 83–98; Ben Mollow and Chaim Lavie, “Culture, Dialogue, and Perception Change in the
733 Israeli-Palestinian Conflict,” The International Journal of Conflict Management, 12(1) (2001), pp.
734 69–87.
735 63. See, for example, Oyatambwe, Eglise catholique et pouvoir politique au congo-zaire;
736 Prunier, “The Catholic Church and the Kivu Conflict.”
737 64. Robert Gleave, “Conceptions of Authority in Iraqi Shi’ism. Baqir al-Hakim, Ka’iri and
738 Sistani on Ijtihad, Taqlid and Marja’iyya,” Theory, Culture & Society, 24(2) (2007), pp. 59–78;
739 Babak Rahimi, Ayatollah Sistani and the Democratization Post-Ba’athist Iraq (United States Institute
740 of Peace, Special Report, 2007).
741 65. Palm-Dalupan, “The Religious Sector Building Peace,” p. 239.
742 66. Gill, Rendering unto Caesar, p. 140.
743 67. Loo, “Religion als Kriegsgewand?” pp. 233–234.
744 68. U.S. Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2006, 11 August 2007.
745 69. De Silva and Bartholomeusz, The Role of the Sangha in the Reconciliation Process, p. 18;
746 De Silva, “Buddhist Monks and Peace in Sri Lanka,” p. 206.
747 70. Jonathan Fox, “World Separation of Religion and State Into the 21st Century,” Comparative
748 Political Studies, 39(5) (2006), pp. 537–569.