I received this book as a gift and dove into it with high hopes which were unfortunately dashed by the end.
The book itself has a solid premise: it constitutes an argument that the vast majority of religious conversion experiences have little to do with the intensely personal crisis of conscience commonly reported by people of faith, and everything to do with the social, familial, and political pressures of the convert's interpersonal environment: that coerced conversions (whether by the sword, or by the in-laws, or by the material advantage to be gained from going along with the majority opinion) are the overwhelming norm.
As a confirmed atheist I am quite ready to accept this message, however it could have been much better argued and structured.
Structurally, the book considers vignettes of four periods of religious upheaval: the Christianization of the Roman Empire; the Christianization of Iberia after the Reconquista; the Reformation on the Continent and in Anglicanizing England; and in the United States from Pilgrim times to the present. The astute reader will have observed that the only religious conversions really being considered in depth are into or out of various Christian faiths. The author acknowledges this--and admittedly a more global perspective might have required a longer book--but it's tough to generalize the point the way the author would like, given that focus.
Structurally, each period is explored by mini-biographies of one or two converts of some significance to intellectual history. This is an interesting perspective, but structurally probably a mistake: the stories are engaging, but to the extent that the book wants to argue for a thesis, it's difficult to generalize from anecdotes; and to the extent that the book aims to be edutainment, the mini-biographies are too short and shallow, and too guided by the need to support the surounding thesis, to be really satisfying. This is especially the case as they become increasingly cursory for more recent figures.
Similarly, the book relies quite a bit on asides from the author's own personal history as a child of many generations of conversions-of-expediency, from Judaism to Lutheranism to Catholicism. I'm not one to oppose an author having a strong authorial voice, but this discussion often threatens to be more interesting than the main flow of the text, which can be quite repetitive, recapitulating points and going on rhetorical flights in a way not unfamiliar to this reviewer, but perhaps less becoming in a book that went through an editorial process unknown to this review.
I'm not quite prepared to say the book belongs in the category of "interesting nonfiction that should have been a long-form essay," but I think you could write a much more cogently supported book by scrapping the attempts to summarize the life story and religious views of John Donne in ten pages, and instead introducing something about the fascinating way the repeated waves of conversion worked in Southeast Asia, for instance.
Where the book really falls apart is in the final third. Here the thesis expands (as was promised in the introduction) to discuss the religion of... Stalinism. Now I have no beef with treating Stalinist
dictatorship as an autocratic belief system that would tolerate no dissent; but there's plenty of conflation of Stalinism with Communism more generally--and the author starts to play very fast and loose with what exactly constitutes religion. Is it a book about merely the enforcement of ideology by autocratic governments? Or by mobs of one's peers? Or something else?
Is it a book about freedom of conscience? It certainly seems to think so, given the way it lionizes Enlightenment ideals and the United States as an exemplar thereof; and one which stresses an American exceptionalist narrative talking about the importance of de jure support for religious toleration. This becomes especially--phenomenally--problematic in the epilogue, where the
author essentially goes on a twenty-page rant about Muslims as a terrorist force hoodwinked by religious fanaticism. She stresses that religious believers (particularly *these* religious believers) *do believe* their claims to religious superiority--the preceding four hundred pages talking about ways religious claims have been used to enforce social conformity, indeed *defining* enforced social conformity *as* religious belief, notwithstanding. She makes a direct comparison between ISIS' atrocities and the massacres of Jews in the Rhineland by mobs of First Crusaders--the image of people desperately sheltering in a church--while somehow seeing American religious tolerance as untroubled by the issuance of an 1838 executive order by the governor of Missouri calling for Mormons' extermination or explusion from the state. No comparison is drawn between the
(religiously? misogynistically?) motivated murder of Hypatia of Alexandria and the lynching of Joseph Smith in Illinois.
Now, Jacoby is commendably careful to note the existence of Christian and Jewish terrorists too, from ancient times to this; but considering she has just written a book depicting religious profession as a means and medium of social control, to suddenly suggest deep-seated conviction as the principal motivating factor of members of one particular religious polity is at the very least remarkably inconsistent. How could the Spanish Inquisition have been motivated by theological doctrine, when its main targets were conversos suspected of insufficiently fervent Catholicism--those who had generally already shown willingness to endorse whatever doctrine the State decreed, and simply weren't believed or accepted? To claim that Whittaker Chambers' source "religion" was Stalinism--a movement indisputably about the political and social control of one faction within one country, however deeply believed by its supporters--and then to ignore the extent to which ISIS' or bin Laden's religious professions serve merely as gloss for their politically motivated intolerance of
difference and attempts to exert control--is to completely overlook the way that religious identity functions *as an ultimately arbitrary identity marker* and is used to justify terror and murder *against the Other generally*, regardless of whatever ultimately arbitrary theological disputes may be ginned up as an excuse.
All that said, the book does serve as a solid atheist critique of the commingling of religious, political, and social authority. The wonder (in her narrative) is that anyone ever fails to convert under social pressure (although again this comes down to questions not of theology but of cultural identity). Jacoby is unquestionably *right* that removing the power to oppress, removing any trace of temporal power or authority, from religious institutions is essential for a just and fair society; which is why it is such a shame to see her devolve into such a reactionary conclusion from an otherwise insightful book.
Moreover, the book serves as an essential reminder of how ubiquitous acts that could be considered genocide have been throughout recorded European history. From the anti-pagan pogroms and assassinations of the late Roman empire, to the Albigensian Crusade of the 1200s (200,000 to 1 million killed at a time when the world population was perhaps 400 million), to the expulsion and torturous murders of Jews and converts from Judaism and Islam in Reconquered Spain, to the extirpation of the Huguenots in France (from 2 million people in 1572 to 100,000 by 1700), and the near-universal practice of kidnapping children of non-Catholic religions to be raised by the socially dominant group (part of the UN Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide definition), European history is full of potent reminders of the evil that takes over when people are convinced of the need to "purify" their societies. Jacoby would probably blame religious ideology for these acts, but ideological compliance has never been enough to stop them--she wrote a whole book about how conversions are always compelled, and compelled conversions never trusted. Instead I would argue that we all need to be aware of this history and be constantly on guard for the tendency in the human heart to hate and fear and--if given the chance--destroy the Other, whatever the excuse.
Edit: What I'm trying to say is, I am exceedingly frustrated by this because of the internal contradiction of which the author seems unaware. Here she has written an entire book whose underlying premise is that religious conversion--and thereby religious belief--has never been about personal conscience, but rather about social conformity and group identity. As such, the *content* of that belief is irrelevant: religious violence derives not from theological positions per se but from the generalized attempt to enforce social conformity and inter-group power struggle. (The remarkable part of the story--that people ever clung to their religious beliefs in the face of oppression--makes more sense when we see that act as an assertion of identity.) All the long history of religious genocides documented here are not about the theological content of religion, but an assertion of power from the powerful and an attempt to establish a homogenous society. They just happen to lean on religion as a convenient excuse.
This dynamic would have been far more obvious if the author had expanded her perspective and considered religious traditions other than a subset of the Abrahamic: the waves of Hinduism, Confucianism, and Islam in Southeast Asia, for instance. Even Buddhism, despite its easygoing, accepting, non-dogmatic reputation in the West, can become violent and intolerant in the hands of those who wish to use it to exert social control. We cannot locate the genocide and cultural extermination of ISIS within the content of Muslim theology any more than we can locate the genocide against the Rohingya in Myanmar at the hands of ultranationalist Buddhists within the content of Buddhist theology. It does not matter that both groups of oppressors are believers or that their beliefs are (presumably) sincere: the beliefs are *motivated* by, are *an underlying outgrowth of*, the desire for social control.
That Jacoby has missed this--in favor of yet another rant about Sharia--is a tragedy.