Reviewed by Linyan Zheng, Department of Religion
Recently, cultural appropriation has become a big hot topic. The term cultural appropriation refers to “cases where individuals or entities of the dominant culture take from the culture of marginalized communities, resulting in some harm or offense” (pg. 5) is increasingly used to call out cases of consumption that cause harm to marginalized communities. But often in discussions of cultural appropriation religion is left out of that conversation. Liz Bucar’s monograph Stealing My Religion succeeds in bringing the issue of religion into the conversation. Bucar’s book focuses on a class of harmful religious borrowings she defines as “religious appropriation.” Bucar argues that religious appropriation happens “when individuals adopt religious practices without committing to religious doctrines, ethical values, systems of authority, or institutions, in ways that exacerbate existing systems of structural injustice.” (p.2), Through her case studies, fabulous analysis, and self-reflections, Bucar reveals how people appropriate from each other, what exploitations these appropriation cause, and what existing forms of asymmetrical power dynamics they depend on and reinforce. Therefore, religious communities, scholars in religious studies and non-religious people will all benefit from reading her book and have a lot of aha moments which enable them to see religious borrowings with fresh eyes.
In her introduction, Bucar introduces difficulties of conducting researches about religious appropriation, her working definition of “religion,” and her theological and anthropological approach to religion. Most of the appropriators of religion Bucar discusses in this book are white, but she does not want to cause a misunderstanding that only white people do religious appropriation. By using singer Cardi B as an example, Bucar gives a convincing argument that “anyone is a potential stealer of religion” (p. 21). Cardi B appeared in an advertisement as Durga, a many-armed fierce Hindu warrior goddess, which triggered outrage by some in the Hindu community. However, others argued that it was impossible for Cardi B, a Black woman, to be guilty of cultural-religious appropriation. Bucar points out that Cardi B has different identities in different contexts: though vulnerable to anti-Black racism in the United States, Cardi B is also “a Western woman appropriating an Eastern image to promote her celebrity brand” (p. 20). Therefore, Bucar argues “We are all potentially the subject of Stealing My Religion” (p. 21). Furthermore, Bucar points out that every case is complicated and there is no single solution. She provides readers with three case studies: non-Muslim women wearing solidarity hijab to demonstrate allyship with a religious minority; playing pilgrim as learning experience about a religious rite of passage through walking the Camino de Santiago, and respite yoga marketed as therapeutic treatment. Through these cases, Bucar exposes relevant forms of structural injustice—capitalism, Christian hegemony, orientalism, white supremacy, sexism, racism, white feminism, and a maldistribution of perceived expertise and asserted authority—behind religious appropriation and uncovers its exploitative and offensive nature. At the end of every chapter, she always contemplates on what can be done to borrow religion in a more responsible way, for example, how to protect Muslim women better, how to organize her Camino study abroad program better in the future, and how to become a better teacher in her Kripalu yoga class.
Bucar is an extraordinary story-teller. She provides a fascinating narrative which clarifies the religious history of hijab, pilgrimage and respite yoga and her personal story is detailed and illuminating. The moment you open her book, you will be thrown into a dilemma where you feel like you are always on the cliff above the abyss of religious appropriation. you will be amazed at how much people consume religion nowadays and after reading her book, religious appropriation is everywhere when you look around. This definitely will make you feel uncomfortable. As Bucar says at the end of her book, “Discomfort is the first step to realizing we have work to do so that religious borrowing can contribute to the inclusion of religious difference instead of merely participate in its oppression” (p. 224). Bucar suggests that a more responsible way to borrow religion is to “steal” more:
The exploitation of religious appropriation lies in the partialness of the borrowing, the de-linking of practices from communities and complex webs of meaning … One way to prevent the exploitations … is to reconnect the practices to religious communities and traditions that claim them … I think equally important is giving up the hierarchical framing of “us” versus “them” that animates the appropriation in the first place (pp. 215-216).
Once we open Bucar’s book, we choose the red pill and there is no turning back. Religious borrowing is unavoidable and we have a long way to go to mitigate harms brought by religious appropriation. This is not the end of the story; this is exactly the beginning of a new journey.
During an interview as part of the Boniuk Institute Reading Religion Salon, I asked Dr. Bucar about her targeted audience of this book. She says that she targets “more secular sort of readers.” She stresses that non-religious people and SBNR group are more likely to become the perpetrators of religious appropriation because they maintain their position as outsiders of religion and think that they are entitled to “borrow” religion happily and easily for “benign” purposes, such as politics, education, and wellness; they even claim that they can do the practice more “safely, scientifically, and rationally.” Dr. Bucar uses specific example of # HeadscarfForHarmony campaign to show how liberal intentions cause illiberal results, for example, the decentering of the actual Muslim women and the erasure of Black Muslim women’s voice by non-Black Muslim women within the Muslim community itself. Bucar argues that once people see the violence behind “liberal” intentions, it is more difficult for borrowers to consume the practice as a mere political, pedagogical, or therapeutic commodity. Dr. Bucar says that she knows that her book will make people feel uncomfortable and this is exactly one of her aims. She puts herself in a vulnerable state to invite her audience to join her in this conversation and describes her own missteps and moral reflections. She hopes that her vulnerability can create an open space to talk about religious appropriation freely, honestly and productively. Just as she mentions in the beginning of her book, “I acknowledge these mistakes, take moral responsibility, and reflect on what I could have done better, I hope they become teachable moments” (p. 16). Dr. Bucar’s book serves as a great starting point to unpack the ethical issues, such as why people appropriate from others, where religious exploitations and conflicts come from, how we can do to understand religious traditions better, avoid religious discrimination, and thus embrace marginalized religious groups and let them regain their voice and participate in the conversation again.