Nothing Untouched: Religious Bias in History Writing
Religion always has been and always will be one of the most pervading and impactful biases a historian has to deal with. Every aspect of the historian’s approach can be affected by any kind of religious affiliation. There are three ways in which this may occur. Firstly, the religious affiliation of the historian comes with an agenda, whether intentional or subconscious. Secondly, The historian’s own experiences with the religion can impact the way in which they interact and deal with history; history can become inadvertently personal. Finally, a historian may refuse or include sources depending on their religious affiliation and whether or not they view it as reliable evidence, and, even if they do include sources they may not agree with, they may not be able to fully lay aside their religious biases to deal with the sources to the degree of accuracy required. This will be looked at, specifically, in the case of the history of Christianity as a case study.
In order to truly and effectively analyse this issue, it is important to, very briefly, define the terms in question. For this piece, the working definition of religion will be based upon Emile Durkheim’s explanation, in which he explains religion is a series of beliefs and practices, and this definition will serve the investigation well, helping to better identify and explain religious biases in historiography.
Alongside this, the definition of history need also be made clear. Here, the definition will be as follows: History is the understanding and presenting of the stories of the past; whether that be the stories of people, places or things.
Whether a historian would admit it or not, all history is retelling the stories of those that have gone before. Whether it comes in the form of analysis, comparative studies, archaeology, archival work or spatial history, all history works to re-present the stories of the past in a way that modern audiences can engage with and understand. It is partly this fact that makes history such an impossible subject for objectivity. Whilst dealing with stories, the historian’s own stories are bound to find their way in. Whether that be through their prior experiences, their political ideologies, or, indeed, their religious affiliations.
Therefore, it is here that we meet the first of the three ways that religious affiliation can affect a historian’s approach to the past: their agenda. Whether this agenda may be involuntarily subconscious or entirely intentional, a historian can approach this past with the intention to disprove or prove a religious statement. When approaching the issue of the history of Christianity, for example, the religious affiliation of the historian will fundamentally shape the way they use and present the evidence.
This can be well seen in the History of the Church by Eusebius of Caesarea. In the introduction, Andrew Louth writes about Eusebius’ earlier work, Chronicle: ‘Part of the purpose of the Chronicle was to demonstrate the superior antiquity of the Hebrew religion (of which, for Eusebius, Christianity was the continuation or, rather, recovery) over any other’. Here we can see the bias of Eusebius’ religious affiliation at work. His agenda when writing the Chronicle was to show how superior Christianity was when compared to other religions. While this was a rather more explicit intention, a similar affect can be seen in Simon Loveday’s The Bible for Grown-Ups, in which he writes: ‘This book is theologically neutral. It neither requires, nor rejects, belief.’ This is a more implicit bias that will pervade the work. Loveday comes with the intention to write something that is neutral. This agenda is a bias in itself. Despite his own beliefs being rather ambiguous in this work, the bias remains. Loveday’s agenda, rather than being to prove or disprove a religious belief, becomes the removal of biases altogether. When a historian embarks to remove bias from their work, they are inevitably forced to use their own subjectivity to determine what is bias or not. In order to become truly theologically neutral, Loveday had to remove any concrete statements about belief or religion that could undermine it. This is editorial subjectivity, and it requires the subjective decision-making of a historian; a subjectivity that will inevitably be predicated on their own religious beliefs. This agenda fundamentally shapes and impacts his approach to the past, and, as the history he was dealing with was the history of the Bible, it becomes an even more pressing issue, as the very content of his work is, in itself, religious.
Therefore, the first issue is that of the historian’s agenda; whether that be to prove or disprove a religious belief, or to attempt to create something that can be perceived as neutral.
The second of these is something previously touched on: the prior experiences of the historians themselves. The historian’s own experiences with religion can impact the way in which they interact and deal with history, with some topics or issues inadvertently becoming personal. For example, in the introduction to his A History of Christianity, Diarmaid MacCulloch writes:
‘This is emphatically personal view of the sweep of Christian history, so I make no apology for stating my own position in the story: the reader (...) has a right to know... I was brought up in the presence of the Bible, and I remember with affection what it was like to hold a dogmatic position on the statements Christian belief. I would now describe myself as a candid friend of Christianity.’
Here, MacCulloch’s position is clearly explained: while writing a history of Christianity, his own personal experiences come to the fore. His view of the history, the actions, the people and the events are forever tinged by his own experiences. In an article for the New Humanist Magazine, MacCulloch described how the Church rejected him because he was gay. How, despite being ordained a deacon, it was an uncomfortable and disconcerting experience. These personal life experiences not only impacted and irrevocably shaped the way in which he deals with the past and the history of Christianity. No longer is the history of Christianity an objective issue for him, it is a personal, emotive and impactive part of his life. This is just one example showing the way in which a historian’s personal experiences with the religion can impact their study and presentation of it.
The third and final aspect is that of their view of the sources and evidence. A historian might refuse or include a source depending on their religious affiliation and whether or not they view it as reliable evidence. This can be most notably emphasised in the use of the Christian Gospels as historical sources. For example, some will argue that the gospels are historically reliable, that the modern versions we have are almost completely accurate and can be proven to be true. Others would argue the exact opposite. Whatever the religious bias or affiliation of the historian, it determines how they use the sources. Some historians would reject the Gospels as historically inaccurate, unreliable and effectively useless; others would use them as some of the most influential, crucial and widely-attested sources in the history of Christianity.
Also, if a historian who was against the Gospels, or any other such source, were to use them, their analysis would always be tinged with a level of disagreement. The arguments they would make, therefore, would serve to either disprove or contradict the Gospels, sometimes even attempting, whether inadvertently or not, to undermine their reliability. The historian may be quick to point out how ‘one can never try be sure of the origin’, or ‘one can never truly understand the true historicity of the source’. These passing comments may seem of little consequence, but they would work to undermine the sources and would serve to bolster their religious affiliation in the face of a source they disagree with.
This would be exactly the same, just in the opposite direction, for a Christian historian to use them. They would be quick to justify the use of the Gospels, to show how they are reliable and how there are plenty of other sources that back them up.
To conclude, the history of Christianity serves as a clear illustration of how religious affiliation can impact the approach of the historian to the past. Their very treatment of the past would be fundamentally affected, their intentions and their sources would be impacted by their beliefs. There is very little that isn’t touched by a person’s religious belief, and a historian’s approach to history is no different.
Bibliography and Further Reading:
Emile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (London: George Allen & Unwin 1915).
Eusebius, The History of the Church, trans. G.A. Williamson, (London: Penguin, 2009).
Simon Loveday, The Bible for Grown-Ups, (London: Icon, 2016).
Diarmaid MacCulloch, A History of Christianity, (London: Penguin, 2010).
‘The Church rejected me because I'm gay’, New Humanist Magazine, Spring 2015.
Craig Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels, (Apollos, 2007).
Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion, (Black Swan, 2006).
