Category: Kurs: Religion & Society

By Therese von Weissenberg

Every once in a while, when I need to add some enrichment, I entertain myself by creating fictional societies and/or religions and mashing them with their surroundings to see what interesting situations could hypothetically occur. And lately as I stalk the halls of the library while studying at midnight I have been considering how one would go about creating a religion that would be worthy of consideration to be registered as a religion but comes into conflict with the state’s bureaucratic definition of a religion.

During our Religion and Sociology lectures, more specifically the lecture on religion and state, the preparation for the lecture included section seven from chapter two of the “Act on the Freedom of Religion” according to Finnish law(453/2003), regarding the qualifications needed to register as a religious community. And for fun I went and read the rest of chapter two, just to see what it would take to get legally registered as a religious community. A lot of it simply has to do with bureaucratic rulings that apply in similar ways to many non-profit organisations, membership, payments, executive committee and so on. So for my challenge I told myself I could not get my made up religion rejected on any kind of basis that could apply to non-religious non-profit groups as well, the rejection had to be based on sincere religious elements that nonetheless create conflict with the state’s bureaucratic definition of religion. This restricts me to the two elements mentioned in section 7, creed and an element of something sacred.

I have decided to exploit a small little detail in section ten: community by-laws. The first thing the community by law needs me to clarify, is the name of the religious community. My conflict, found at last.

“The community by-laws shall state:

1) the name of the religious community and the municipality in Finland in which it has it’s registered office;”

My religion is according to our faith and creed one that has no name, and shall never be named, not even nicknamed, the fact that it is unnamed, and the continuous unnamedness of it is sacred, and violating that would be blaspheming. You may not refer to the religion by the same moniker on the same day. No official records or texts may write down something that might be used as a way to refer to the religion in a consistent way. This in accordance with our belief of the universe as an ever-changing entity and respect of that by acknowledging the impermanence of all things by refusing to name the religion.

By all other accounts my fellow members and I should qualify, we have submitted a creed, we have clarified what we hold as sacred, we have more than twenty members(twenty and a half!), we have clarified our charter, we seek no financial profit, we have an executive committee, we have a clear account of our membership registration, we’re champs at human rights, and all other community by-laws are stated.

But sections seven and ten put us in conflict. Our most sacred element is directly in conflict with the first part of section ten. Everything else is in order, but a small little detail balloons into the blockade that will keep us from recognition by the state.

Essi Mäkelä in her paper on the “‘Impartial Sources’ and the Registration of

Religious Communities in Finland” discusses certain cases that have been rejected from being registered as religious communities, inter alia, the La Sociedad del Amor de Dios, or SAD, a group based on the belief of god’s love, largely the Christian god, but can also be interpreted as a universal god found in many religions, like Islam, and while I will not comment on the results of the applications, nor the general ideology of the group, the rejections that were involved are more interesting when analysing the case of my religion. To summarize, the SAD were rejected because they failed to, in the eyes of the state’s board, properly connect their religious doctrine to a sacred text or set of written down directions. Despite citing various works, including the bible, freemasonry and ‘other’(not named) texts. Mäkelä reflects in the text that the SAD bases their faith on a specific set of verses in the bible but fails to name the specifics to the board.

So a, by the state, perceived ambiguity concerning the religious text led to up to three rejections. Even though the SAD by all other accounts apparently would have qualified. The need for clarity within the bureaucratic system of the state thus held the SAD back from acceptance.

Because states are bureaucratic legal entities, usually, they more or less need everything to be gently corseted into similar frameworks for the state to be able to properly process them. So a legal definition is needed to create any kind of functioning system between religions and the state. But any kind of definition brings with it the risk of exclusion. And legal definitions paired with a religious group’s ideals or rules that by virtue of sacredness become inflexible, like my group, bring with it the addition of technicalities becoming far bigger deals than anyone intended for, hindering the freedom part, of freedom or religion.

The SAD was willing to, for at least three times, revise their application. But in the case of my made-up religion, revision is not an option, the internal doctrine states we under no circumstances may name our religion.

The inevitable rejection thus would be born of a clash with a fundamental working of the bureaucratic state, since names play an important role in tracking and documentation among other things. The case of my religion reflects how limited definitions born from the technical needs within the state affect a topic like religion, where a multitude of deeply rooted beliefs or doctrine, when evolved outside of the state’s systems, highlight the weaknesses of rigid bureaucratic definitions.

References:

Act on the Freedom of Religion (Chapter 2). 453/2003; amendments up to 463/2017 included.https://www.finlex.fi/api/media/statute-foreign-language-translation/688468/mainPdf/main.pdf?timestamp=2003-06-05T21%3A00%3A00.000Z/https://www.finlex.fi/en/legislation/translations/2003/eng/453 .

Mäkelä, Essi Eleonoora. 2018. “‘Impartial Sources’ and the Registration of Religious Communities in Finland.” Journal for the Academic Study of Religion 31 (1): 3–26. https://doi.org/10.1558/jasr.35224.

av Janina Rågård

“Ta en paus, du behöver inte honom” är en kommentar jag nyligen snubblade över i Ballerina Farms kommentarsfält på TikTok. Kontot med över 10 miljoner följare drivs av mormonen Hannah Neeleman som bland annat blivit känd genom att publicera videor där hon lagar mat och tar hand om sina barn. Neeleman har under den senaste tiden blivit ett av de främsta ansiktena utåt för ”tradwife”-rörelsen, men vad är egentligen en tradwife? Termen tradwife härstammar från engelskans ”traditional wife” som generellt översätts till traditionell fru. Traditionella fruar har i allt högre grad uppmärksammats på sociala medier från och med 2018 då konservativa religiösa, inklusive Neeleman, började framhålla fördelarna med att vara hemmafruar (Young, 2025). I diskussioner om traditionella fruar tas bland annat religion, medier och politiska frågor upp, vilket gör ämnet till ett aktuellt exempel på hur religion och samhälle samverkar och uttrycks via sociala medier.

Vid en sökning på Instagram med sökordet #tradwife dyker det upp över 128 000 inlägg där kvinnor lagar mat och framhåller hur skönt det är att enbart behöva ta hand om hemmet. Traditionella fruar kopplas samman med kvinnor vars värderingar grundar sig i ”traditionella” familjedynamiker och könsroller, understryker Wikström (2024). I klarspråk innebär detta att kvinnan, precis som Neeleman, är hemma och lagar mat, tar hand om barnen och städar, medan mannen är familjens överhuvud och försörjare.

Enligt Wikström (2024) är det ”traditionella” inte gemensamt för alla traditionella fruar, men det finns flera gemensamma nämnare som går att identifiera. En gemensam faktor är enligt henne heterosexuella förhållanden där kvinnans roll är att ta hand om barnen och hemmet, medan mannen arbetar. De traditionella fruarna är därtill oftast religiösa och kan använda sig av bibelverser i sociala medier för att förstärka sitt budskap eller lyfta fram religionens betydelse. Traditionella fruar tenderar även att ha en negativ inställning till feminism, vilket kan märkas genom användningen av #ConservativeWomen och #FeminismSucks som ofta går att finna i samband med de traditionella fruarnas inlägg i sociala medier (Young, 2025).

De negativa reaktionerna som riktas mot traditionella fruar grundar sig i rörelsens syn på feminism och jämställdhet. Vi lever i den fjärde vågen av feminism, som på många sätt starkt kan kopplas till sociala medier där feministiska budskap, exempelvis MeToo-kampanjen, tydligt lyfts fram. De traditionella fruarna framhåller inte denna moderna feminism, utan snarare den feminism som var norm under 1950-talet, betonar Wikström (2024). De traditionella fruarna är på så sätt mer fokuserade på den ”traditionella” feminismen och vill avvika från den moderna. Därtill sprider de traditionella fruarna ofta högerextrema budskap och lever i ekonomisk utsatthet, eftersom de avstår från att arbeta. Dessa faktorer bidrar till att ytterligare kritik riktas mot dem.

Att Hannah Neeleman borde ta en paus för att hon inte behöver sin man är inte den enda uppseendeväckande kommentaren som går att finna i kommentarsfältet för kontot Ballerina Farm. Även ”Befria dig!!” och ”Är du lycklig?” är en av flera tusentals kommentarer som riktas mot Neeleman på hennes TikTok-konto. Efter att ha analyserat kontot insåg jag att kommentarerna har en tydlig gemensam nämnare. Kommentarerna grundar sig i ett antagande, nämligen att hon blivit tvingad att vara hemmafru. Dessa antaganden leder till kommentarer gällande den mängd barn hon har och att hon ska tänka på sin hälsa. Traditionella fruar betraktas dock inte vara tvingade att leva det liv de lever, vilket kritikerna i kommentarsfälten inte verkar vara medvetna om. Samtidigt är kritiken begriplig, eftersom moderna samhällsideal ofta betonar jämställdhet och det är svårt att veta hur kvinnan egentligen har det bakom kameran.

Även om rörelsen ständigt möter kritik i takt med att feminismen har vuxit under de senaste årtiondena, kan det vara något som vissa behöver påminna sig om: att feminism också innebär rätten att själv välja. Att inte hålla med om en kvinnas åsikter – i detta fall viljan att vara en traditionell hemmafru – förändrar inte det faktum att feminism handlar om friheten att själv få välja om man vill leva traditionellt eller inte. Samtidigt kan jag se det riskabla med denna rörelse, eftersom den påverkar unga och kan normalisera underordning samt ge en snäv bild av religiositet och dess syn på kvinnan. Efter att ha läst på om rörelsen och bekantat mig med de reaktioner som uppstår på sociala medier inser jag att tradwife-rörelsen är och kommer förbli ett värdeladdat fenomen.

 

Litteraturhänvisning:

Wikström, E., & Åbo Akademi, F. f. s. o. e. (2024). Hemma är alla karlar starka och alla kvinnor fagra: Hur tradwife-rörelsen framställs bland inläggen under #tradwife på Instagram.

Young, C. (2025). Single and psycho: How pop culture created the unstable single woman.

av Beata Björklund

Yoga har blivit en ganska självklar del av många människors vardag idag. Många ser det som något avslappnande eller som en del av en hälsosam livsstil, snarare än något religiöst. Men det jag tycker är intressant är att dessa praktiker faktiskt har sina rötter i religion, framförallt hinduism och även buddhism.

Det får mig att fundera på vad som händer när något som från början är religiöst plockas ur sitt sammanhang och blir mer av en “wellness-grej”. Idag kan man gå på yoga utan att ens tänka på att det finns en religiös bakgrund, och meditation används ofta mer som ett verktyg för stresshantering än som en andlig praktik. På ett sätt kanske det gör det mer tillgängligt för fler människor, men samtidigt kan man fråga sig om något går förlorat när man tar bort den religiösa betydelsen. Forskning visar även att yoga i väst ofta avreligioniseras och omformas till ett hälsokoncept. Antony beskriver i artikeln “It’s Not Religious, But It’s Spiritual: Appropriation and the Universal Spiritual of Yoga” hur undervisningen “medvetet steriliseras från religiösa element” för att skapa en mer lättillgänglig wellness-praktik (Antony 2014, s. 64). Yoga marknadsförs därmed främst som ett sätt att uppnå “inner peace, bodily health, and spiritual fulfillment” (Antony 2024, s. 64), snarare än som en del av hinduisk religiositet.

En annan dimension till det hela är att yoga har studerats på vilken påverkan den har på den mentala hälsan. I artikeln “The relationship between yoga involvement, mindfulness and psychological well-being” diskuterar just detta. Något som dock var främst intressant för mig i denna artikel var att de kom fram till att Yoga på en mycket hög grad korrelerar med religiöst/andligt välbefinnande, vilket skulle indikera på att en djupare utövning av yogautövning skulle involvera spirituell utveckling, vilket senare leder till ett bättre välbefinnande. (Gaiswinkler, L. & Unterrainer, H.F. 2016, kap. 3.1)

Jag tycker också det är intressant hur detta kopplas till New Age och modern andlighet, där människor ofta plockar delar från olika traditioner och sätter ihop sin egen tro eller livsstil. Yoga blir då inte bara träning, utan kan också vara en del av hur man söker mening eller balans i livet. I Artikeln “Yoga in Norwegian nature: The Creation of a New Pilgrimage Practice.” skriver Glen om ett fenomen i norge som har tagit in det jag skrivit ovan, Glen skriver om hur yoga i Norge ofta kombineras med naturandligt, New Age-influenser och till och med element från samiska och fornnordisk spiritualitet. detta skapar en lokal “Norwegianization of yoga”, där praktiken anpassas till nationella värderingar och naturideal (Glen 2025, s.27).

Samtidigt kan man fundera på om det finns en risk att man “förenklar” eller till och med missförstår religioner när man använder deras praktiker på detta sätt. Är det ett problem, eller är det bara en naturlig utveckling i ett globaliserat samhälle? Det väcker också frågor om kulturell appropriering. I en artikel skriver Antony att när yoga lyfts ur sitt religiösa sammanhang “liknar den approprierade produkten ofta mycket lite det ursprungliga”(Antony 2014, s.66). Detta kan innebära att centrala filosofiska dimensioner går förlorade (Antony 2014, s.77). Men frågan är förstås, när blir då förändringen för stor? eller är det bra att det blir en så pass stor skillnad, men borde de då få heta något annat än yoga?

Det känns som att yoga och meditation är ett ganska bra exempel på hur religion inte bara finns i kyrkor eller tempel, utan också i vardagliga aktiviteter som vi kanske inte ens tänker på som religiösa längre. Glen skriver om hur yoga i Norge ofta förstås som en personlig och icke-institutionell praktik, vilket ligger i linje med sekulariseringens individualisering av religion. Yoga blir därmed en form av “lived religion”, där andlighet integreras i vardagliga aktiviteter.

• Antony, M.G. (2014). “It’s Not Religious, But It’s Spiritual: Appropriation and the Universal Spirituality of Yoga.” Journal of Communication and Religion, 63–81.
• Glein, M.G. (2025). “Yoga in Norwegian Nature: The Creation of a New Pilgrimage Practice.” Temenos – Nordic Journal for the Study of Religion, 27–47.
• Gaiswinkler, L. & Unterrainer, H.F. (2016). The relationship between yoga involvement, mindfulness and psychological well-being. Complementary Therapies in Medicine, June 2016.

av Fanny Holmström

Trots att många moderna samhällen blir mindre religiösa verkar människor fortfarande söka liknande sammanhang. Även om man tidigare trodde att religion skulle försvinna med moderniseringen har det dock så inte skett. Istället har religioner antagit nya former. Kan det vara så att människan har ett inneboende behov av religion eller ersätter vi bara religion med nya trossystem?

Religionernas roll är långt mer komplex än sekulariseringsteorierna tidigare förutsåg. Trots att vetenskap och rationalisering har förändrat människors världsbild fortsätter religion att erbjuda till exempel gemenskap, mening och ett sammanhang för människor. Religion idag blir allt mer individualiserad och integreras i personliga livsberättelser, vilket Beckford och Demerath (2007) beskriver som en del av modernitetens ökade valfrihet.

Karl Marx ansåg att religion fundamentalt är ideologisk, en illusion och mekanism för social kontroll för den härskande klassen att behålla makt. Religion används för att få arbetarklassen att acceptera samhällets ordning och orättvisor genom att till exempel ge hopp om belöning efter döden (Beckford & Demerath, 2007).

Emile Durkheim menade å sin sida att religion främst fungerar som en källa till social sammanhållning, där samhället hålls ihop genom gemensamma idéer och värderingar – ett delat “moral university”. I grunden för ett delat moraliskt universum och social sammanhållning ligger delningen mellan det sakrala och profana. Sakrala är de saker som uppfattas som speciella och är avgränsade av särskilda regler, såsom mänskliga rättigheter, barndom och flaggan i USA och Frankrike. Det profana är det vardagliga och vanliga. Religion är ändå inte synonymt med det sakrala. Religionen fungerar som stöd för det sakrala. Det sakrala kommer först, och religion ovanpå det. På samma sätt som att ingenting är sakralt i sig utan skapas av människor, avgörs inte heller det sakrala av religionen utan av människor.

Max Weber såg människor som till grunden rationella som handlar utifrån en logik, även då det kommer till religion. Han såg därmed att religion har sitt ursprung i samtida behov, inte i vad som händer efter döden. Dessa teorier kan således hjälpa oss att förstå hur religionen driver och används i samhället.

Nya religiösa och minoritetsrörelser har under de senaste årtiondena ökat, och fortsätter att öka. Nya religiösa rörelser (NRM) kan ses som en motreaktion mot sekulariseringen, där gamla traditionella kyrkor tappar inflytande uppstår ett tomrum som dessa nya rörelser fyller. Även globaliseringen bidrar till nya former genom att sprida idéer vilket skapar nya hybridformer av religioner, exempelvis yoga och meditation i väst, samt amerikansk pentekostalism i Afrika och Latinamerika (Beckford & Demerath, 2007).

Även om traditionella institutionella kyrkor minskar runtom, finns fortfarande de viktiga komponenterna kvar på olika sätt. För att förstå mer om vilka dessa faktorer är borde man se närmare på olika teorier om varför människor blir religiösa. Tre inflytelserika teorier är socialization theory, deprivation theory samt rational choice theory. Enligt socialization theory formas religion genom uppväxt och omgivning. Familj, skola och samhället lär människor vad individen ska tro på och vilka värderingar som är viktiga, varefter dessa internaliseras och blir personens egna. Man blir alltså religiös eftersom man socialiseras in i en religion (Furseth & Repstad, 2006).

Enligt deprivation theory fyller religion ett tomrum och avsaknad av något. Olika former av denna avsaknad kan till exempel bero på ekonomiska, sociala eller psykologiska orsaker, exempelvis en person med lägre social status eller som lider av sjukdom. Religion kan där ge hopp, mening och trygghet (Furseth & Repstad, 2006).

Rational choice theory handlar om att människor väljer religion på ett rationellt sätt och strävar efter att få ut det mesta med minst möjliga ansträngning. Enligt teorin tänker man sig att bli religiös handlar om att få fördelar genom det på ett personligt meningsfullt sätt (Furseth & Repstad, 2006). Samtidigt finns kritik mot alla dessa teorier, men de kan ändå bidra till att belysa orsakerna till varför människor blir religiösa.

Frågan kan även studeras mer psykologiskt, till exempel överensstämmer Abraham Maslows behovshierarki med mycket av det som tidigare beskrivits som religioners viktiga funktioner. De fem nivåerna är fysiska behov, trygghet, gemenskap, självkänsla och självförverkligande. Av dem kan man argumentera för att religion kan ge hopp och säkerhet på nivån för trygghet. Religion kan även bidra till gemenskap, till exempel församlingar och grupper skapar en känsla av tillhörighet. När det kommer till självkänsla kan sägas att religion kan vara en stor del av identiteten och samtidigt ge en känsla av att vara viktig. Religion kan därtill även
fungera som ett verktyg självförverkligande, till exempel för att utvecklas och hitta livsmening.

Människor fortsätter alltså att söka efter gemenskap och något heligt och sakralt, även om det tar sig nya former. I dag kan istället politiska rörelser, konspirationsteorier, miljörörelser och wellnesskultur fungera som substitut för religion. Kanske kunde man också se sekularism i väst som en slags religion? Utifrån Durkheims idéer om sakralt och profant kan man argumentera för att västerländska värderingar är sakrala för oss, till exempel mänskliga rättigheter, vetenskap och demokrati. Kanske är det därför många i väst är så rädda för andra kulturers inflytande, just för att vår kultur och våra värderingar i sig är vår religion?

Litteraturhänvisning:

Beckford, J. A., & Demerath, N. J. (2007). The SAGE handbook of the sociology of religion. SAGE Publications.

Furseth, I., & Repstad, P. (2006). An introduction to the sociology of religion: Classical and contemporary perspectives. Ashgate. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315262642

By Bea Lindberg

Before studying at the University, I never really put much thought into why we still get days off on religious holidays. I work at a retail store and study the Study of Religions at the University of Åbo Akademi, and it hit me on Easter Monday that I get double the salary and days off from lectures. For me Easter Monday and Good Friday are just any other days of the year, the only difference is that I have a lot more customers at work and that we usually don’t have lectures on these days. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy all the perks I get from the holidays. But I’ve started to wonder why religious holidays still remain part of Finland’s official calendar.

By deep diving into the reason of the Finnish religious holiday celebrations, I found out that the National holidays are determined by the Finnish Parliament, and that there is an official list of holidays that are released each year (Public Holidays Global, 2025). Which brings me to an interesting public debate that is going on about the theme of religious holidays, which is whether public holidays should reflect the diversity of today’s society, or should we stick to old traditions? The tricky part here, is that the Finnish Parliament would need to add all the new religious holidays to their official list of holiday celebrations, and that would mean even more days off for everyone. Moreover, the issue of which religions would get their public and official holidays to the list would probably cause a lot of dissatisfaction and arguments in the different communities.

Moreover, Aastha Gupta discusses in her article, about religious holidays, that instead of making every religious holiday official in the calendar year, schools and workplaces could instead give some type of leeway (The Daily Campus, 2022). This could be in the form of time off or extensions at work. On the other hand, I can see how this would become a bit problematic, in the sense that many workplaces and schools would be unwilling to follow this if it wasn’t obligatory.

Conversely in my opinion, holidays like Easter and Christmas have also lost their religious feel and spiritual aspects, it’s (on the negative side) more about consumerism, purchasing gifts and decorations, and (on a more positive note) about spending quality time with loved ones on a day off. I would say that not that many of the people I know think about the resurrection while eating Easter dinner with their family or think about the birth of Jesus Christ while decorating the Christmas tree.

This led me to think about something we covered in our Religion and Society course, which is secularization theory. The theory basically offers a simple explanation of why religious holidays remain in secular societies; as societies modernize, through science, individualism and rational thinking, religion loses its influence over public life (Furseth & Repstad, 2016). So even though holidays like Easter and Christmas are still part of our calendars, they are not about religion for most people. According to what we’ve been studying, this doesn’t mean that religion disappears completely; it just becomes more private or symbolic. I guess that explains why so many of us in some ways still celebrate these holidays, but more in the sense of eating good food and enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, some non-believers still do attend worship services or other activities that the local Church has to offer. Such as De vackraste julsångerna that my mom attends every Christmas at our local Church, even though our family isn’t that religious. Thus, I believe that it is still important that there are spaces for non-believers and religious people as well, to enjoy and celebrate Christmas and other religious holidays, even though it may only be for the purpose of “getting into the Christmas mood”.

 

Sources

• Inger Furseth & Pal Repstad. An introduction to sociology of religion: Classical and contemporary perspectives. Routledge (2016).
• Public Holidays Global, Finland Public Holidays, (2025). https://publicholidays.fi/
• The Daily Campus, Aastha Gupta. Striving for inclusion: Should we have days off on religious holidays? (14.11.2022). https://dailycampus.com/2022/11/14/striving-for-inclusion-should-we-have-days-off-on-religious-holidays/

By Mattis Bulk

Almost everyone is familiar with the comics The Adventures of Tintin by the artist Georges Remi (1907–1983), better known as Hergé. In these stories, the reporter Tintin travels around the world with his dog Snowy from 1929 until Hergé’s death in 1983, experiencing all sorts of adventures. The Adventures of Tintin have been translated into 80 languages and dialects, making them second only to the Asterix comics in terms of translation into other languages. To date, more than 230 million copies have been sold, and new editions of the individual albums are still available in bookstores today.

Yet despite the consistently high sales figures of Hergé’s unique comics, there is a rarely discussed issue that casts the artist’s drawings in a different light. In The Adventures of Tintin, there are recurring indications of antisemitism, racism, and colonialism. But what exactly is problematic in these comics, and what does it mean for our time? How should we deal with antisemitism in popular works by an artist who is no longer alive? I would like to give a rough overview of these questions and offer a few points for reflection. Hergé’s work and the influences on and by him are, of course, far more extensive than can be presented here in a single blog post. This is therefore a strongly condensed and topic-focused presentation using the example of the comic artist Hergé.

In the course Religion and Society, we dealt with sociological approaches to the religious influences in society.
In the book An Introduction to the Sociology of Religion, which we read in the course, Karl Marx’s theories were described as foundational and influential for contemporary sociology. One example discussed is how certain groups use religion to legitimize their own ideas and interests. Hergé’s comics can also be counted among these, as the beginning of his success story was strongly shaped by religious influences. When the artist received the offer in the 1920s to draw comics for the youth supplement of the Belgian newspaper Le Vingtième Siècle, the influential editor was the ultra-Catholic priest Norbert Wallez, who was not only a nationalist but also sympathized with fascism. He determined the goals of the new comic hero Tintin and his four-legged companion.

In class, we also discussed the relationship between media and religion. Both sides influence each other, as the sociologist Hodkinson formulated. He saw media not only as something that shapes society but also as a reflection of society. This observation can also be applied to Hergé’s Tintin comics, which in the early years were particularly shaped by the ultra-Catholic influences of the editor. This influence also promoted an extremely undifferentiated and sometimes incorrect portrayal of people from around the world whom the reporter meets on his travels.

Thus, alongside antisemitism, the Catholic aversions to communism and capitalism can also be found in the early volumes. For example, in the third volume, Tintin travels to the Congo, which had long been controlled by the colonial power Belgium. As a result, there is both a positive portrayal of Belgian missionaries in the Congo and racist depictions of the Congolese inhabitants.

During the Second World War, Hergé was offered the opportunity to draw his comics for another weekly newspaper called Le Soir. In the adventure The Shooting Star, published from 1941 onwards, two men appear who, with their names and appearance reminiscent of National Socialist caricatures, reproduce Jewish stereotypes. The villain and antagonist in the story was also depicted by Hergé as an exaggeratedly Jewish person. The Jewish banker Blumenstein—whose name was changed to Bohlwinkel in 1954—supports an American expedition that is positioned in opposition to Europe. Whether this depiction can truly be called ideological, however, remains controversial.

Even though many more examples could be analyzed in detail, this small exemplary insight shows that the Tintin comics are shaped by the time in which they were created and the influences of Norbert Wallez’s ultra-Catholic worldview. At this point, however, it is also important to mention that Hergé revised some of his drawings for later album editions. For instance, a geography lesson given by Tintin in the Congo was later changed into a simple mathematics lesson. Throughout his career, Hergé made numerous such revisions.

Picture Reference: Hergé à l’ombre de Tintin, ARTE France, 82min., 2006

Additionally, in an interview regarding the discussed issues of racism and antisemitism, Hergé stated that he had only portrayed people in Africa the way Belgian colonialists had described them to him and that he had no other sources. The caricature of a Jew during the Second World War was, he admitted, unfortunately chosen but not intentional, as he knew little about the Shoah. When asked directly by the interviewer whether he saw himself as antisemitic or as an enemy of Black people, Hergé responded: “Of course not!” All of this, of course, does not excuse his portrayals, but it does show that Hergé was aware of problematic depictions in his works. The new editions available in bookstores today are all versions that were revised by Hergé himself.

Since these comics are still widely read today, I believe it would be useful to promote comprehensive, targeted research that examines in detail the background and motives as well as problematic depictions. There is already academic literature that, for example, deals with the Christian influence on Hergé’s comics or the stereotyped depiction of the Middle East.

Perhaps it is advisable not only to read the comics but also to engage with the background of the artist. This makes it easier to become aware of the context of their creation and the related problematic portrayals of people. Parents can also explain problematic depictions to their children before they read the comics and thus even contribute to a more open-minded worldview in their children. Publishers, too, can draw attention to issues and raise awareness with introductory texts—as has already been implemented in part.

I hope that, using Hergé’s The Adventures of Tintin, I was able to show that comics also shape society and that the worldviews conveyed in them deserve critical examination and should be questioned and reflected upon when reading today. Moreover, the comics themselves reflect society to some extent, particularly in Hergé’s early works through his ultra-Catholic environment.
In any case, I will look more closely when I read comics in the future.
How will you read comics now? Would you look into the background of the artists behind your favorite comics? Perhaps, with a bit of awareness of the issues, a combination of critical reading and the enjoyment of comic art is possible.

 

References:

• Handbuch des Antiseminitismus, Band 7, 2015
• Cora Alexa Døving: Anti-Semitism and Islamophobia: A Comparison of Imposed Group Identities, 2010
• Europäisch-Jüdische Studien Beiträge, Band 37, 2019
• An Introduction to the Sociology of Religion, 2024
• Tim und Struppi“ – Westliche Konstruktionen des Nahen Ostens in popkulturellen Medien, Eine Diskursanalyse zur Konstruktion des Anderen, 2024
• Tintin as a Catholic Comic, 2017
• Hergé à l’ombre de Tintin, ARTE France, 82min., 2006
• Interview Hergé: The Comics Journal 250, February 2003

By Caroline Nordström

When I was younger, my father always talked about how stupid religion, especially Christianity is. I grew up in a very atheistic household, and because of that always looked at religion somewhat sceptically. So, when the cynical teenage me discovered Friedrich Nietzsche, and learned that God is indeed dead, I was overjoyed. I had finally found the answer, and my father was right, religion is useless. Now, when I have grown up a little, I of course understand that this is not the case, religion has shaped humanity and society in countless different ways, and there are many reasons to why one might want to be religious, even if science has taken over lots of perspectives about the world. But what are those reasons? And what does it mean for my wrongful interpretation of Nietzsche as a teenager?

In a modern world, often described as “post-religious” or “secular,” religion really has not vanished. In fact, in some places and among certain groups, it is growing. People on social media are starting trends about reverting back to a more “traditional” life, which also implies Christianity becoming more popular again. So clearly, religion is still relevant in many ways. If anything, the persistence, and even the “resurrection” of religion today makes the topic more relevant than ever. Why do people still choose to be or become religious even if God is so called dead?

This particular topic is something that has also been discussed a lot during our lectures, and I found those discussion very interesting. Different theories about why people become religious like the deprivation theory or the theory of meaning and belonging. To me, the most obvious one is the theory of meaning and belonging. It is very easy to find a community, a place to be in, with religion. It provides the comfort and belonging that every human being craves deep down. David Ludden discusses this topic in his article Why do people believe in God? (2018) on the website psychologytoday.com. He mentions something that I do not think very many people even think about, and it is how extremely and deeply religion is embedded in all of us, even if we do not think that it is. How often do you use expressions like “Oh my God” or have you ever begged, pleaded and hoped for a test to go well? All of these small, everyday habits have roots in religion, at least to some extent. So it is not at all difficult to believe that someone would like to devote their lives more consciously to these things, hence becoming religious.

Having grown up in a very nonreligious household, religion has always been something alien to me, and I always questioned why someone would devote their life to something they cannot even see. But it is not as simple as that, people talk about feeling a spiritual presence, or about how prayer helps them ground themselves, and maybe the biggest reason of them all, religion gives life meaning. It gives motivation to keep going forward, to be a better person, to live life with a meaning, with purpose. This is something that I would say most humans long for. It is depressing to think about life as something completely meaningless (teenage me seeing nihilism and Nietzsche as fundamental truths), and religion gives a very clear, structured basis and meaning for life, which is quite appealing for many.

 To conclude, I have clearly learned a lot after growing up and noticing that maybe dad is not right about everything in life. Religion is important for countless people everywhere around the world, and it has shaped societies for the longest time, and it still does, even if science has taken over to some extent. But that is the beauty of it, religion persists despite all of that.

By Alexandra Berg

It is by far not an uncommon thing, at least in my experience, that people who have recently been diagnosed with a serious illness suddenly become more religious. Why is that? Shouldn’t a personal misfortune instead cause more resentment towards the world? What about a serious illness makes people feel an increased affinity to religion?

One of the most memorable lessons from the course Religion and Society, was titled Religious Communities and Individual Religiosity. The lesson brought up a central question most people have probably wondered about: “Why are some people religious while others aren’t?” At least I have thought about it. The course brought up three main theories: socialisation theory, deprivation theory, and rational choice theory. I think they all have merit, and there are other theories out there, but in this post, we are going to look at the deprivation theory. What is deprivation theory, and how can it explain why people with a serious illness sometimes become more religious?

An article by Rosandi (2020) explains that deprivation theory was first formulated in the late 1940s by American sociologist Samuel Stouffer, and later popularised by the 1961 book by Charles Glock, fittingly titled The Role of Deprivation in the Origin and Evolution of Religious Groups. Deprivation in this context means the lack of something that is needed in life. These things can be economical or social, which is to say the lack of money or sufficient support network to survive. Deprivation theory claims that people turn to religion when a psychological need is not being met, seeking religion’s offer of comfort and explanations for life’s big questions.

Koenig et al. (1992) analyses religiosity among hospitalised patients with serious illnesses and found that religion had many positive psychological effects on patients. Using religion to cope with hospitalisation has been associated with a decrease in negative psychological symptoms in hospitalised patients such as depression, but no effect is shown on physical symptoms like weight loss or loss of energy.

A 2001 meta study by Koenig & Larson (2001) compiles more positive effects of religiosity during serious illness. While not all religions have theistic God/Gods, religions that empathise a personal relationship to a God have shown reduced loneliness and hopelessness in patients. Physical illness often causes the feeling of loss of control, and the belief that praying to a loving God that can be swayed by prayers makes patients feel like there is something they can concretely do to improve their condition.

Religiosity during illness can be praying or reading scripture alone, but there is also the social aspect of religion. Shattuck & Muehlenbein (2018) discuss that both personal religiosity and religious social behaviour is associated with better health outcomes. Other studies (Ano et.al 2005) have also shown a positive correlation between using religion to cope with stressful life situations.

Now that it has been established that during a difficult time such as a serious illness, people may turn to religion for comfort and support, how does this tie into the deprivation theory I presented earlier? The deprivation theory of religion says that when people are in need of something, in cases of serious illnesses, that need might be comfort, hope or a sense of purpose. Religious community can also lead to increased social support, which meets a social need. There were also other reasons for why people turn to religion covered in the course, and this is not to say all seriously ill people become more religious. This post is merely to show that a need for something more in times of distress is a common explanation for the phenomena. And isn’t it also quite nice to think about? That in times of need people can turn to religion to feel better?

 

Sources:

Ano, G.G. and Vasconcelles, E.B. (2005), Religious coping and psychological adjustment to stress: A meta-analysis. J. Clin. Psychol., 61: 461-480. https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.20049

Glock, C. Y., University of California, B. Survey Research Center. (1961). The role of deprivation in the origin and evolution of religious groups. Berkeley, Calif.: Survey Research Center, University of California.

Koenig, H. G., Cohen, H. J., Blazer, D. G., Pieper, C., Meador, K. G., Shelp, F., Goli, V., & DiPasquale, B. (1992). Religious coping and depression among elderly, hospitalized medically ill men. The American journal of psychiatry, 149(12), 1693–1700. https://doi.org/10.1176/ajp.149.12.1693

Koenig HG, Larson DB, Larson SS. Religion and Coping with Serious Medical Illness. Annals of Pharmacotherapy. 2001;35(3):352-359. doi:10.1345/aph.10215

Rosadi, A. (2020). Deprivation theory. In The SAGE encyclopedia of the sociology of religion (Vol. 2, pp. 205-205). SAGE Publications, Inc., https://doi.org/10.4135/9781529714401.n119

Shattuck, E.C., Muehlenbein, M.P. Religiosity/Spirituality and Physiological Markers of Health. J Relig Health 59, 1035–1054 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-018-0663-6

By Romeo Honkanen

Although I can not with absolute conviction say that I believe in God, specifically the Christian God, it is something I have thought about and heavily flirted with for a long time. There are many things in life that direct me toward belief, but these thoughts and ideas are very often challenged by the secular society of today. Most institutions, services and other aspects of social life are largely secular, at least in the west, which I feel clashes with the belief in God and personal religiosity and makes these things harder to practice. However, I recently came across an article made by the University of Eastern Finland, or the UEF, called “Belief in God among boys continues to grow in Finland – study finds signs of growing belief among girls as well” which touched on a study that shows belief in God to be growing among young boys and girls in Finland. Reading this article, it made me very intrigued about how belief in God was actually on the rise among the youth in Finland rather than declining, which is to me an interesting phenomenon in the secular West.

It got me thinking about how complicated belief really is these days. We often assume that religion is on its way out in places where science and secular ideas rule the day. Church attendance is down, people say they’re “spiritual but not religious,” and skepticism toward organized religion seems pretty common. In fact, in the course “Religion and Society”, one of the major topics that we have touched on is the secularization and modernization of today, meaning that religion and faith by large have a lesser role to play in society. Because of these phenomena, it is typically the trend to either not heavily regard religion and/or find new spiritual alternatives, but this study suggests that’s not the whole story.

Maybe what’s changing isn’t belief itself, but the way people experience it. Instead of being part of a church community, young folks might be finding their own way to connect with spirituality or some higher power. It’s like belief isn’t disappearing, it’s just taking on a new shape, something more personal and less tied to institutions. I also wonder if belief offers some comfort when life feels uncertain. Finland, like many countries, is dealing with all kinds of big questions, economic challenges, climate worries, social changes. Many parts of the world even today are very turbulent and the threat of war or other horrors still exist, Finland being again an example. As such, it is not far-fetched to think that belief in God gives people a kind of stability or hope that’s hard to find elsewhere.

Culture probably plays a role too. Even if many people don’t go to church regularly, the country’s Lutheran background might still influence how people think about faith. Traditions, holidays, or even shared values can keep a sense of religion alive in subtle ways. For example, despite maybe not believing, most families in Finland and the west celebrate Christmas. Many things in western society that are Christian and religious in origin are so ubiquitous and present everywhere, that many tend to disregard that these things originate in religion.

There’s also the social side of things. Faith communities can be places where people feel like they belong, especially in a world that’s often disconnected and digital. That need for connection is powerful, and religion can fill it in ways other parts of society sometimes don’t. Of course, this trend in Finland is not the same everywhere. Different countries have different experiences with religion and youth. Some see belief dropping, others hold steady or even grow a bit.

Reading about this made me reflect on my own feelings about faith. Living in a world that often values logic and evidence, believing in God can feel like going against the current. But maybe there’s room for both, a respect for both science and spirituality in our own way. It also made me think about how secular societies treat religion. If they’re too strict or dismissive, people who want to believe might feel pushed out. But if there’s respect for all kinds of beliefs, maybe more people will feel free to explore their spirituality.

To summarize, the connection between belief in God and modern secular life is really complicated. This study from Finland shows belief can stick around and even grow in surprising ways, which challenges the idea that religion is just dying off in the West. It’s a reminder to look deeper at why people believe and what faith really means for them. For me, this means keeping an open mind. Belief isn’t something fixed or absolute, it’s a journey with ups and downs. Whether I end up certain about God or not, I know that faith and doubt are part of being human, no matter how secular our world seems.

 

References:

https://www.uef.fi/en/article/belief-in-god-among-boys-continues-to-grow-in-finland-study-finds-signs-of-growing-belief-among

Porkka, J., & Tervo-Niemelä, K. (2024). Poikien usko vahvistunut edelleen — seuraavatko tytöt perässä? Pitkittäistutkimus rippikoulunuorten suhteesta kristilliseen uskoon ja rippikoulun vaikutuksesta siihen. Uskonto, katsomus ja kasvatus, 4(1). https://journal.fi/ukk/article/view/154948 

av Ellen Thyrén

Det vore svårt att missa hur en idé om Islam har spridit sig i samhället. Det handlar egentligen inte så mycket om tro, utan snarare om andra motiv som gömts under lager av en av västvärlden uppmålad karikatyr av Islam. Denna snabba spridning och utveckling av idéer tänker jag att påverkats mycket av teknologins utveckling som gett större möjligheter för tankarna om Islam att spridas i diverse olika mediekanaler. Vad som kan räknas som islamofobi är ett väl omdiskuterat ämne; definitioner av begreppet har också kritiserats för att strida emot yttrandefriheten.

Media lyfter också upp debatten och påverkar hur den visas upp. Mediatiserings teorin innebär en process där religioners agens, trosidéer och symboler påverkas av hur media fungerar. När media förändras och får en ökad påverkansförmåga skapas både nya villkor för auktoriteter att tala om religion samt nya möjligheter för att bli en av dessa auktoriteter. I detta blogginlägg kommer fokuset att läggas på varför jag inte ser yttrandefrihet som ett fungerande argument för att förneka islamofobi. Detta kommer jag att göra genom att lägga rampljuset på en debatt om begreppets definition i Storbritannien.

För ungefär ett och ett halvt år sedan anklagade den brittiska politikern Lee Anderson Londons borgmästare Sadiq Khan för att vara kontrollerad av Islamister. Flera inom det konservativa partiet i Storbritannien har uttryckt att Andersons kommentar var ”fel” men inte velat kallat den islamofobisk. En debatt om vad islamofobi innebär väcktes till liv och man har tidigare i år skapat en arbetsgrupp för att skapa en ny definition av begreppet.

Det finns alltså för tillfället inte någon officiell definition av islamofobi i Storbritannien som har godkänts av regeringen; en orsak till att de inte tagit sig an en tidigare föreslagen definition är för att de anser att den har konsekvenser för yttrandefriheten. Jag anser att den förslagna definitionen inte behöver vara motstridig mot yttrandefriheten; problemet är istället hur man tolkar yttrandefrihet. Yttrande- och åsiktsfrihet exkluderar inte negativa eller kränkande påståenden, men det innebär inte att den kan köra över alla andra typer av friheter. När yttrandefrihet begränsas bör man dock kunna motivera inskränkningen med hjälp av lagen. En sådan motivering vore exempelvis rätten till att inte bli diskriminerad.

Konceptet yttrandefrihet kan spåras tillbaka till de två grekiska koncepten isegoria och parrhesia. Isegoria handlar om jämställdhet mer än frihet. Parrhesia handlar istället om rätten att säga sanningen till makten; konservativa reducerar det till att endast handla om att kränka istället för att ge skäl för att söka rätten till isegoria. Båda två tillsammans kan ses som viktiga för yttrandefrihet i demokratisk kommunikation.

I vårt samhälle är det heller inte frågan om en spelplan där alla parter har samma möjlighet att säga sina åsikter och bli hörda; det finns en ojämn maktbalans. Islamofobi ger varken utrymme för diskussion eller plats för muslimer i diskursen. Det finns ingen nyansering och orden kommer inte heller från en källa av kunskap om Islam.

Jag ser det här ämnet som viktigt för att det handlar om beslut som tas och påverkar människor i en värld som vi lever i just nu. Ingenting gott kan heller komma ifrån någonting så pass törnigt som sättet Islam målas upp i politiken i väst idag; det är som en bomb där vi själva är de med knappen för att utlösa den. Jag tänker också att vi inte alltid funderar så mycket på vad för betydelse som förståelsen av ord kan ha; man kan se innebörden som självklar för att den sedan ska visa sig att inte vara så självklar som man trodde att den var.

Vi lever i en värld där en av västvärlden konstruerad bild av Islam har fått bli till en sanning och där man vill försöka skydda hat bakom ordet yttrandefrihet. Det är värt att fundera över om den tidigare föreslagna islamofobi definitionen i Storbritannien egentligen strider emot vad yttrandefrihet är. Man kan också fundera över vad man kommer få ut av Storbritanniens försök att skapa en ”ny” islamofobi definition; kommer man, likt med yttrandefrihetsargumentet, bara hitta nya sätt att tala sig runt definitionen?

 

Litteratur- och källförteckning:

Lövheim, Mia & Hjarvard, Stig (2019). The Mediatized Conditions of Contemporary Religion: Critical Status and Future Directions. Journal of religion, media and digital culture. Vol. 8: s.206-225.

Gov.uk (2025) Government launches working group on Anti-Muslim Hatred/Islamophobia definition. https://questions-statements.parliament.uk/written-statements/detail/2025-03-03/HLWS480 (hämtad 29.04.2025).

Mincheva, Dilyana & Hirji, Faiza (2022). At the Limits of Free Speech: The Conditions that Enable Islamophobic Discourse. Canadian journal of communication. Vol. 47/No. 3: s.488-510

Siddique, Haroon (2024). What is Islamophobia and why does Tory government not accept definition? The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/news/2024/feb/27/what-is-islamophobia-and-why-does-tory-government-not-accept-definition (hämtad: 29.04.2025)

Amnesty international. Yttrandefrihet. https://www.amnesty.fi/sv/vad-gor-amnesty/yttrandefrihet/ (hämtad: 02.06.2025)