European history has been defined as a field by a notion of Europe – its borders, values, civilization, and nationalities – that is structured by Christianity and its secular legacies. Rather than seeking to globalize the history of Europe by considering the impact of European Christianity on other parts of the world, and how it was impacted by them, this chapter challenges that narrative. It asks how the historiography of Europe can be integrated with the historiographies of Europe’s historic non-Christian populations, namely Jews and Muslims. These are historiographies with their own rhythms, conceptual frameworks, and geographies in which Europe carries quite different connotations. They shift our attention from the north and west to the south and east, enjoining us to think differently about Europe and the diversity that has always existed within it. Separately, these historiographies speak to very different experiences. Taken together, they help us to think differently about the interface between Europe and the world and to write the history of Europe itself against the grain.

This chapter argues that scholars of sex, sexuality, and gender have begun to engage with global histories, but in a selective manner and often characterised by ideas of one-way dissemination from Europe to locations beyond its borders. It suggests some entry points for a richer, multidirectional historiography, including the movements of indigenous and colonised peoples, economies of trading sex, the regulation of reproduction, and new histories of feminisms. Non-binary forms of gender and queer sexualities are prominent within such literatures and help to complicate established narratives. The chapter also highlights historiographical contributions that diversify our histories away from ‘great power’ geopolitics and draw out the specificity of regions such as eastern and central Europe and the experiences of ‘non-aligned’ states and of non-state actors such as religious organizations and racialized historical actors.

In American culture, there is a mix and mismatch of core discourses: religious, Enlightenment, and market economy. Each claims, contributes, and competes for kinds of belonging and national definition, by abstract principles of equality, particular community of religion and nation, and possessive individualism of each one’s own self-interest. Poetry, far from being private reflection or self-referring aesthetic object, is an arena in which each of these discourses encounter each other. Widely circulated in newspapers, magazines, publicly recited, poetry took part in and also refracted, in especially intense and focal ways, the drama, questions, and terms of belonging crucial to, and conflictual in, the unfolding of America. In this chapter, I explore the intercrossing and contention between American discourses of religion, Enlightenment, and individualism in the Abolitionist poetry of Whittier, the poetry of war in Herman Melville and Emily Dickinson, and the poetry of participation in Walt Whitman. In the texts of each, vocabularies, terms, allusion, and critique of American cultural, religious, and political life form complex interchanges, at times through alignment, at times in tense and critical relationship. The poem becomes a field of confrontation, appeal, and address within the context of their writing as voices of culture take on poetic force.

The right to freedom of thought is enshrined in Article 32(1) of Kenya’s 2010 Constitution. This right aims to facilitate democratic discourse, critical thinking, and societal progress. However, despite its constitutional protection, the right remains underdeveloped statutorily, in judicial decisions, and in academic literature. Ambiguity persists in defining and qualifying violations of this right, as no court has thus far engaged in a comprehensive analysis to establish its content and scope. Instead, it has been intertwined with discussions on the scope, application, and limitations of freedoms of expression, religion, belief, and opinion, being regarded as the essential inner element necessary for the exercise of these freedoms. This chapter examines the scope of the right to freedom of thought in Kenya and the importance of recognising it as an independent right, despite its interconnectedness with the aforementioned freedoms. Ensuring this recognition allows citizens to develop their own set of ideals and belief systems without facing coercion to disclose their thoughts, punishment for holding certain thoughts, impermissible alteration of their thoughts, or a lack of an enabling environment to hold and express their thoughts. To establish this, the chapter explores the historical and legal framework of the right to freedom of thought in Kenya and examines its interplay with related constitutional rights such as freedom of expression, belief, religion, and opinion. It addresses contemporary issues, including the impact of technology, surveillance, and cancel culture on freedom of thought. Recommendations are then made on its applicability and how courts and academics can navigate the complexities surrounding its scope, content, and limitations.

This chapter of the handbook discusses the complex, multifaceted connection between morality and religion from an evolutionary perspective. After providing some much-needed conceptual ground clearing, the authors focus on accounts of the linkage between morality and religion in terms of evolved psychological mechanisms that promote cooperation and inhibit competition. One of the better known of these accounts is the supernatural punishment hypothesis. On this view, the morality–religion link is sustained by the fact that belief in an all-knowing, all-powerful god who monitors people’s behavior and punishes their moral transgressions motivates people to behave less selfishly and more cooperatively. Another account emphasizes religious behavior and posits that participation in religious ritual is a form of costly signaling, indicating to others that the participant can be trusted to observe the moral norms of the community. While there is considerable support for the idea that aspects of religion function to curb selfishness, however, the authors caution that the psychological and sociological mechanisms underlying this function are not yet well understood.

How did religious and political debates that had only recently generated violent conflicts become relatively peaceably conducted in growing numbers of publications and clubs?

How did social democracy seed new forms of politics that came of age in the global revolts of 1968, exposing its contradictions and compromised foundations, and hastening its demise after 1976?

The phenomenon of ‘Ireland’s spiritual empire’, denoting the influence that Irish churches had on the world through lay and clerical migration in the (very) long nineteenth century, has attracted considerable attention from both contemporary commentators and historians. Yet the converse reality that national churches so embroiled in the global growth of their religions must also have undergone far-reaching changes themselves in the process has been much less studied. Focusing on both Catholic and Protestant churches, this chapter will address a number of modes of religious ‘Americanisation’ that can be detected in Ireland between 1841 and 1925. These will include: the backflow of a ‘cosmopolitan clergy’ who frequently spent long periods in North America and returned to Ireland as potential agents of a religiously inflected Americanisation; the visits of Irish-American and ‘Scotch-Irish’ clergy to Ireland; and the material role that a much-vaunted American religious ‘freedom’ played in the imaginaries of both Catholic and Protestant Irish people, enhanced by both media portrayals and discussion in personal correspondence.

This chapter provides an introduction to the interdisciplinary formation of postsecular studies and briefly outlines its influence in literary studies broadly as well nineteenth-century literary studies specifically. Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women then provides a case study for the demonstration of a postsecular reading attending to the production of secularity around the novel’s bifurcated but intertwined concern with playfulness and morality.

What does it mean “to tolerate” in a post-Christian and post-secular state? This chapter argues that antecedents of contemporary conflicts over diversity in Europe can be found in early modernity, specifically in early modern practices of toleration, which impacted on both the belonging and the visibility of minorities. New forms of intolerance pertain to the position of religious, ethnoreligious, and sexual minorities in public life, echoing the concerns of the public visibility of minorities inhering in historical Christendom. The political articulation of certain groups as “other” to “the nation” is increasingly mediated through constitutional repertoires, such as constitutional revision and amendments, developments in the hermeneutics of constitutional concepts, or pseudo-constitutional behaviour. This chapter introduces the main themes: tolerance and intolerance, constitutionalism, secularisation, and their significance across the liberal–illiberal divide.

This chapter analyses constitutional intolerance on the basis of the Hungarian Church Law of 2011, which deregistered hundreds of religious organisations, attached special conditions to re-registration, and privileged a number of politically favoured religious organisations in return for their political legitimation and support. These micro-legal actions are analysed within the context of the notion of the “System of National Cooperation” and “constitutional identity”. Constitutional intolerance in Hungary appears to stem from a traditionalist commitment to protect traditional values: on the one hand, by strengthening the position of the main Hungarian churches, and on the other hand, by championing anti-liberal policies on gender and sexuality, including the prohibition from exposing minors to “gay propaganda”. But the varnish of Christianity is relatively thin: Hungarian society is thoroughly secularised with low numbers of church attendance, with language and ethnicity taking precedence over religion in their importance to national identity.

Scholars have observed that Schopenhauer did not develop much of a political philosophy but have failed to recognize that this is a deliberate deflationary strategy. Schopenhauer’s aim was to circumscribe the function of politics narrowly and assign it a place in a broader range of human responses to the agony of existence. However, his attempt to differentiate politics from religion and the state from the church led to contradictions. One the one hand, Schopenhauer favored a strong state that could control social strife and noted that political leadership can rely on religious justifications to ensure stability. On the other hand, he observed that state-affiliated religious institutions often eliminate critical perspectives on their doctrines by silencing philosophical reflection, an attitude he could not accept. Schopenhauer thus ended up with an ambivalent conception of statehood as simultaneously protective of life and property and damaging to free inquiry.