The Politics of Religious Apostasy

[_beastie]

Chapter 5
Exploring Factors that Shape the Apostate Role
Stuart A. Wright

Wright begins with references to the same terms as the other authors in the text have utilized, thanks to Bromley.

The apostate on the other hand, is defined as a defector who is aligned with an oppositional coalition in an effort to broaden a dispute, and embraces a posture of confrontation through public claimsmaking activities. In effect, the apostate carves out a moral or professional career as an ex, capitalizing on opportunities of status enhancement afforded the individual through organizational affiliation with the oppositional group(s). The post-involvement identity of the apostate is negotiated within the interactional context of a countermovement coalition and subsequently packaged for public consumption as the “wronged” person. The new identity serves to launch the new career of the moral entrepreneur who becomes engaged in a mission to expose the evils of the suspect group – one which features the characteristics of a “Subversive” organization. The newly constructed role places the apostate in a position that is diametrically opposed to one’s former beliefs and commitment. The apostate seeks to polarize the former and present identities, accentuating a personal transformation akin to conversion. Indeed, the intensity and zeal in which the apostate embraces the new moral vision, seeks atonement through public confession and testimony, and makes salvific claims of redemption, at least suggests that the ex-member’s new affiliation may be analyzed as a type of quasi-religious conversion in its own right. Herein, exiting a deviant career to become an apostate is given meaning to the extent that social and moral distance between the two worlds can be maximized. It is typically characterized as a darkness-to-light personal transformation.

With regard to new religions in particular, apostates frequently develop an occupational or professional role within the anti-cult movement (ACM) as a deprogrammer, counselor, exit therapist, conference speaker, administrative officer, or some combination of the above, insuring a sort of institutionalization of apostasy. According to exit counselor Carol Giambalvo, “Exit counselors are usually former cult members themselves.” The industry of anti-cultism, spearheaded by key interest groups or movement organizations (Mos) such as Cult Awareness Network (CAN) and The American Family Foundation (AFF) attests to this institutionalization.

A better understanding of apostasy can be achieved by exploring our definition in terms of two constructs, narrative and role. ( p 97)

Absolutely, let’s put this citation in context, lest it be taken out of context by those with an agenda.

Apostate Narrative
Captivity Narrative

For the apostate, one’s previous involvement in a NRM is readily dismissed or discredited as a pseudo-conversion resulting from deceptive “mind control” practices. The account is formulated in a captivity narrative emphasizing the alleged manipulation, entrapment, and capture of the idealistic and unsuspecting target. Personality factors or defects may be identified as contributing to heightened vulnerability of some individuals, including dependency needs, unassertiveness, gullibility, low tolerance for ambiguity, cultural disillusionment, naïve idealism, undiscerning desire for spiritual meaning, and susceptibility to trance-like states. For the most part, however, the captivity narrative stresses the potent, external forces of group pressure, alternately called “brainwashing”, “thought reform”, “mind control”, or “coercive persuasion”. With some minor variation, the captivity narrative follows a very familiar pattern. Carefully orchestrated, behavioral conditioning practices induce ego-destruction and overstimulation of the nervous system, resulting in diminished capacity for rational decision making, radical personality change, impaired psychological integration, dissociation, split personality, and other mental disturbances converging to manufacture and sustain the pseudo-conversion. Personal accountability is now excused since no exercise of choice or free will is made in joining. The new convert is held mentally captive in a state of alternate consciousness due to “trance induction techniques” such as meditation, chanting, speaking in tongues, self-hypnosis, visualization, and controlled breathing exercises. With trance-induction techniques destroying the individual’s natural ego-defenses, and exacerbated by information control, language manipulation, confession sessions, demands for purity and group primacy, the cultist is reduced to performing religious duties in slavish obedience to the whims of the group and its authoritarian or maniacal leader.

Warfare and Rescue Motifs

The captivity narrative provides a rationale for the warfare and hostage-rescue motifs, central themes in ACM ideology. Since converts are defined as psychological captives or “hostages” to the cultist mind-control techniques, circumstances cal for a “rescue” strategy. The analogy of Chinese communist brainwashing practices employed against POWs during the Korean War, and later by Russian communists during the Cold War years is frequently evoked in anti-cult literature. The hostage-rescue motif constructs the conflict between new religions and their detractors as “warfare”, invoking the “discourse of war” and attendant militarization themes designed to establish an image of an “enemy” with evil intent. Military symbols, speech, and metaphor are employed to describe the “battle” against cults, wherein cult members are seen as “enemies” of freedom, or the state, and cultists are inflicted by the psychological horrors of war atrocities and POW camp experiences – battle fatigue, combat trauma, psychological manipulation, isolation, sleep deprivation, and post-traumatic stress syndrome. (p 98 )

Wright goes on to describe the frequent allegations of weapon stock-piling and possible violent intentions of the cults.

I am beginning to feel as if I’m repeating myself, but due to the fact that citations from this text have been taken brutally out of context and made to support claims that are not part of the original text, it seems necessary.

Once again – this is not a reference to “brainwashing” in the generic use of the word to mean intense social programming, such as a parent does with a child. It is describing an actual technique with the design altogether dismantling free will. This is why much of the legal defense for these NRMs focused on debunking the notion of brainwashing.

Apostasy is also learned as a function of role-taking. It is important to understand that the apostate role has been carefully crafted as a part of the social structure of the ACM and it exists independently of any individual’s incumbency. In effect, ownership of the role belongs to the organization. Consequently, the potential apostate must perform the appropriate role or “social script” defined by the organization. The social actor’s performance then will be judged by his or her ability to remain faithful to the script. (p 100)

Again, this only makes sense within the context of an oppositional coalition with the goal of provoking the host society to take action against the Subversive group. This is very difficult in the US given freedom of religion, of course, so the NRMs are painted in an extremist fashion. The group only wants to give platform to the apostates whose narrative echoes their own platform: the NRM is a dangerous group that preys upon vulnerable, normally young, individuals, uses mind control techniques to entrap them, and then control them for the purpose of enriching the leadership. Action must be taken.

Exmormons certainly accuse the church of being dishonest and manipulative, and of hiding information by “giving milk before meat” to investigators. But I don’t recall exmormons claiming that the church engages in a deliberate brainwashing process with converts.

Wright also explains that the most common career apostates choose is as a exit counselor (deprogrammers were more popular in the past but have fallen into legal disrepute).

Psychiatrists, therapists, and social workers form an important component of the ACM coalition since as “helping professionals” they provide lucrative counseling services to this population. The literature on exit-counseling is framed in terms of medicalization replete with terms like “recovery”, “rehabilitation”, and “healing” in describing work with-members. By casting the apostate as a “victim” of cult-induced mental illness, exit therapists and anti-cult counselors parlay their institutionalized authority and position into venues of social control over disfavored groups. The “treatment” of ex-members isn’t simply a reintegration function for the sick; it is a powerful niche from which to wage a political campaign against NRMs; therapists become social control agents with private enforcement powers. For the apostate, alliance with respected institutional forces enables the disgruntled ex-member to transform personal grievances into a social problem,(p 102)

This was actually one of the sections with which I found disagreement. It seems to me that people who abandoned connections with “normal society” for a significant period of their life could use some professional help in learning how to deal with “normal” society again, and it seems strange to deny otherwise. I suppose Wright's point may be not so much that these people don’t need help, but to market psychological services solely for and from exmembers is simply political manipulation, and perhaps he is not suggesting that exmembers of NRMs could never feasibly be in need of psychological intervention.

Wright does not deny that the Subversive NRM has removed the member from larger society, either, which makes his apparent disdain of the possible need for psychological rehabilitation even odder.

Before disengagement ensues, the individual’s primary role or master status tends to be defined as strictly a religious one. One of the most common objections by critics of new religions has been the adoption of a singularly important, socially restrictive emphasis on the religious role by the devotee, to the exclusion of other roles and relationships, particularly those involving family and friends. Some critics have even expressed concerns that the lack of diverse, heterogenous roles and interaction within the larger society impeded development of a healthy mental state. Indeed, the defining features of a “totalistic” religious organization are that it encourages exclusivity, separatism, single-mindedness, total commitment, and deep religious faith. Clearly, these characteristics are endemic to role primacy. Consequently, the extremely important value placed on this role makes justification of one’s departure more difficult to manage, posing a dilemma for the social actor that other, less significant or peripheral roles would not. How does one explain such total immersion in a religious group if the individual has come to the conclusion that it was a mistake and that he or she does not wish to continue participation any longer?

Certainly, one way of resolving the dilemma and absolving oneself of accountability is to embrace an explanation of psychological manipulation and mind control that allegedly caused the behaviors in question. Assuming an apostate role serves a restitutive function, entailing a type of atonement or making amends for excluding and upsetting family members and friends. Studies reveal that converts’ families and kin report a wide range of emotional wounds during the cult involvement, including feelings of shame, guilt, rejection, and abandonment. (p 103)

Well, one can hardly blame the family members, can one? Again, the context of these statements make plain that the Subversive organization is one that requires the removal of the convert from former familial relationships and social responsibilities. This is an essential component, in my opinion, in understanding every essay in this book. When Mauss talks about an identity primarily constructed on the religious movement, he really is talking about an entire identity, a separate lifestyle. The convert is no longer identifying him/herself by normal social conventions (daughter, son, student, professional) but within the context of the NRM. This is why separation is so difficult and requires reformulating an entire new identity, which runs the risk of forming an apostate identity – an identity entirely formed out of opposition to the former group.

I certainly viewed leaving Mormonism as being forced to create a new worldview. It was emotionally wrenching. But when I joined the LDS church, I still retained many significant parts of my previous identity. I was still daughter, sister, within my familial unit and having the same relations as before (there are some cases where families may disown a child who joins the LDS church but that is normally in nonUS societies where the church is still viewed as subversive). I was still a student, still choosing a future career, still planning on having a unique family unit of a husband and children. When I left the church I still retained those same identities, so I was only forced to reformulate one part of my previous life, not an entire life. The difference should be clear.

The other difference should be clear right now, in regards to the creation of the apostate narrative. Under the view of this text, the abandonment and need for subsequent atonement takes place when the individual joins the NRM. Exiting the NRM also causes needs for reformulations, but the initial need for the “captivity” narrative, the “brainwashing” narrative, is not to explain one’s exodus but why one joined the NRM in the first place and left behind betrayed family members and friends.

The remainder of Wright’s essay deals with the fact that the type of exit predicts the type of leavetaker one will become. I am not going to dwell on this portion because no one leaves Mormonism involuntarily through a form of kidnapping or coerced counseling, entailing “deprogramming”. wright states that research shows that exmembers who were exposed to some sort of forced counseling or deprogramming are far more likely to adopt the apostate narrative.

[_Ray A]

In regard to the comments as to whether the Tanners were apostates or whistleblowers, and the apparent discrepancy between Bromley and Mauss, I would say that under Bromley's definitions the Tanners were not apostates, but whistleblowers. They certainly were apostates in the conventional meaning of the word, but not for the purpose of this book. The Tanners were sometimes critical of other ex-Mormons, such as Decker and Darrick Evenson, and exposing Mark Hofmann does not follow the pattern of the "apostate narrative" as defined by Bromley. So for the purpose of this book I would say they were whistleblowers. However, the Tanners had their own theological agenda:

Jerald and Sandra Tanner....have said that his writings grossly misrepresent Mormonism, and thereby dilute his message and offend Mormons without attracting them to evangelical Christianity. The Tanners, themselves prominent critics of the LDS Church, have noted what they contend are inaccuracies and errors in some of Decker's works

The true apostate narrative, as I understand the definition in these quotes, would not allow such concessions to the "Subversive NRM". (For example Hassan would make no exceptions for any good in Subversive NRMs, and would consider them Satanic. I have read several of his books, by the way.) Mauss may have been influenced by Dr. Lawrence Foster's definition of the Tanners as "career apostates", and so they may have been in the sense that they made a living from being critical of Mormonism, but they don't fit the other definitions given in what has been quoted.

What is also interesting is this last quote:

Wright states that research shows that exmembers who were exposed to some sort of forced counseling or deprogramming are far more likely to adopt the apostate narrative.

This apostate narrative is completely different to exmo narratives, which are not done by force, deprogramming, or pressure to "explain" or "justify" involvement in the first place. Massimo Introvigne has similar ideas, that the forming of the apostate narrative is not due to the experience of the apostate, but to the anti-cult movement who pressure them to write these narratives. In other words, when they become part of a coalition, this is where the apostate narratives spring from. Introvigne, incidentally, does not consider Mormonism a cult.

[_beastie]

Ray,

I agree with you regarding the Tanners being more appropriately placed as whistleblowers.

The vast majority of exmos I've had conversations with are highly critical of Ed Decker. Although I didn't try to read Godmakers until I'd already lost faith, I still threw it across the room in disgust. Ed Decker - or someone claiming to be him - tried to join the original exmo email group I was on many years ago (1996). So many of us turned on him in disgust, attacking him for his bizarre and seemingly fictitious accusations that he left within a couple of days, never to return. The general opinion of the group was that people like Decker are no "friends" to exmormons, because their claims are not credible, AND because their extreme charges make it difficult for nonMormon people to be more moderate regarding Mormonism. None of us wanted EVs getting their heads filled with his garbage.

I also agree that the exmormon narrative is very different in essential ways from the apostate narrative. The exmormon narrative is justifying exiting the faith. While the apostate narrative provides obvious justification for exiting the faith, its primary purpose is to explain why the individual joined the NRM in the first place, and abandoned/betrayed family and friends to do so. The exiting NRM must "atone" in some way for this sin, and provide reasons for the family and larger community to trust him/her once again. The "brainwashing" narrative does that.

I'm going to pick up the summaries again tomorrow, because some of the most interesting comments are yet to come.

[_beastie]

This is Juliann's sole response so far.

No..that is your defensive reaction. You have not read the literature. I have quoted very little yet you are making up generalization after stereotype after generalization. Beastie is back at it on ZLMB and appears to be typing up the half of the Bromley book she wants you to see (with no apparent awareness that Bromley himself pulled in other experts to expand and modify his model.) You might have better success there.

Unfortunately, I just got home and don't have time to go through the posts that are topical tonight.

How in the world does the fact that Bromley pulled in other experts to expand and modify his model rebut the fact that the "half of the book" I've typed demonstrate that Juliann fundamentally abused the text to create her own idea and model, and then presented it to FAIRites as it if were simply a representation of what Bromley et al had said?

Anyway, when I'm done with the summary I'm going to go back and demonstrate how Juliann misused this source in her various posts on this subject.

[_beastie]

Chapter 6
Apostates Who Never Were: The Social Construction of Absque Facto Apostate Narratives
Daniel Carson Johnson


This is one of the most dramatic examples of selective quotation taken entirely out of context. In order to understand any citation from this particular essay, it is necessary to understand that Johnson is discussing one particular unusual subset of the apostate narrative: the apostate narrative that is totally fictitious, including the proven fact that the “apostate” in question was never even a member of the NRM to begin with. Although it is an unusual occurrence, it does demonstrate that the “apostate narrative” general construction exists as an idea even without a person behind it. Hence, individuals who wish to take advantage, in some way, of the furor surrounding certain NRMs can entirely fabricate an experience, but if they use the basic apostate narrative framework, can fool anti-cultists. It is the most extreme example of an individual telling the oppositional coalition exactly what they want to hear.

From time to time, the contests of fact that surround instances of apostasizing give rise to a charge that is truly arresting. It is a charge that the avowed apostate was not who he or she claims to have been “back then,” and thus is not the authoritative voice he or she claims to be now. In some cases, charges of this sort are backed up by a wealth of credible evidence, enough for most objective observers to weigh in with an opinion as to the verity of the tale the apostate told. (p 116)

He uses a couple of characters I’ve never heard of as examples: Rebecca Reed who falsely claimed to be a Catholic nun, Alberto Rivera who falsely claimed to be a Jesuit, and the most extreme example in which not only did the apostate create a fictitious history but also created a fictitious Subversive group, as well (a Satan-worshiping cult that likely never existed.) Obviously, the application of observations about this sort of apostate narrative to more historically based narratives is going to be somewhat limited. Johnson points out its main utility is to discern the basic framework of the narrative, which the posers utilize in order to appeal to the audience.

Despite the apparent freedom enjoyed by apostates accounts in their dealings with the facts of social histories, we would be hard-pressed to characterize these accounts as being completely free to range where they will. Even within the class of apostates who never were, we find enough common threads running through their accounts to continue to speak of the apostate narrative as a distinct literary genre. Indeed, it may be precisely in this special class of apostates that these common threads may be the most conspicuous. (p 123)

Once again, the apostate narrative is built around the idea of a “captivity tale”:

The protagonists – acting in accordance with their own desires and without any foreknowledge of potential danger – follow the representatives of the religious group in question into “captivity”. There they are subjected to increasingly manipulative techniques designed to make them true followers, and for a time these techniques hold. Eventually, however, they “wake up” to find themselves isolated from all aid and subjugated to the perverse demands of religious leaders who have revealed themselves for who they truly are. Somehow, the protagonists are rescued or manage to escape. Finally, under the dramaturgical supposition that the real captivity in question is as much mental, emotional, or spiritual as anything else, the stories culminate with the protagonists’ dramatic renunciation of their former beliefs, practices, and adherences.

The characterization of apostate accounts as forms of captivity narrative is familiar enough to students of apostasy that we have little to gain by detailing how our five accounts conform to the basic outlines of the form. Moreover, Bromley and Wright in this volume have already detailed how the political structure of religious apostasy helps to impose this form over the tales that apostates tell of themselves. In this context, the captivity narrative is seen as a structural provision by which apostates are relieved of responsibility for initially affiliating with subversive religious groups, shielded from any censure that may arise as a consequence of their decisions to leave those groups, and enabled to work their way back into the ranks of conventional society. (p 123)

Again, I feel as if I am belaboring the point, but it is necessary to demonstrate that I am not selecting isolated citations and removing them from their context in order to provide a biased and inaccurate representation of the book. Each author has reaffirmed the basic points that I keep belaboring, and these basic points demonstrate that the common exmormon narrative is not an example of an apostate narrative at all. The majority of exmormons were born in the faith, and did not innocently follow missionaries into a setting in which deliberate actions were taken to engage in “mind control” and “brainwashing” – in the formal sense of the word. Their narratives are not offering explanations for why they joined the subversive group in the first place, nor are they attempting to “work their way back into the ranks of conventional society”, which they never left in the first place.

He also reaffirms some of Bromley’s conclusions from his introductory chapter. Bromley notes that all organizations are marked by “ongoing internal practices that would be contested if externally visible, disputes that could be the basis for revealing discrediting information, repressive responses, and resistance to control that create a pool of potential opponents, some rate of organizational existing that creates a pool of former members potentially available for oppositional roles, and ambivalence about exit transition that potentially can serve as a motivation for opposition to a former organization” (Johnson quoting Bromley, p 130)

If isolated statements are removed from this context, it may appear that the authors are simply accusing all apostate narratives of being fictitious. They are not. The authors, by and large, are not focusing on whether or not the actual charges made by the apostates are accurate or not. It is very easy to lose sight of that if one simply focuses on isolated citations. The authors admit that it all organizations are going to have problems, sometimes very serious problems, that the society at large would find morally offensive. So they are not denying that any of these charges may have actually taken place, with the exception of the subset totally fictitious narrative Johnson explores. They are saying that an apostate narrative takes a certain structure due to a particular social situation in the larger society:

Note all the potential in the scenario that Bromley describes as the routine condition of social and organizational life. Note also what it takes for all of this potential to be realized as instances of apostasy: “social conditions of high tension in which both exiting individuals and external groups have strong interest in mobilizing opposition to the targeted movement(s). (Bromley, this volume) What it takes is a specific constellation of structure. (p 130)

This is why there is a direct association with the type of organization and the type of leavetaker it tends to produce (with some exceptions now and then). It is the social condition which creates enough interest in the larger host society that people other than exmembers of the group have an interest in “broadening the dispute” to include potential regulatory units, such as governmental intervention.

Think about how this applies to Mormonism. According to the authors, Mormonism is largely an Allegiant organization, with some pockets of NA considering it Contestant. This is particularly true in the areas of the US where most exmormons originate: Utah or other states with a high LDS population. I think it is beyond dispute that the Mormon church is an Allegiant organization in these particular states. It is not in the act of JOINING the Mormon church that exmembers seem deviant: it is solely the act of EXITING the Mormon church that makes exmembers seem deviant. This is almost the polar opposite of the Subversive organization as described in this text. (there is some degree of justification required for abandoning the Subversive group, to demonstrate that one is not simply a shady character in general, but this justification is embedded within the “captivity narrative” that mainly exists to justify JOINING the Subversive group).

The term “broaden the dispute” also deserves more attention. Currently, the dispute that largely preoccupies exmormons and Mormons is a dispute between just those two groups – society as a whole is not particularly interested in Mormonism in nonLDS areas, and in LDS areas, the Mormon church is part of the powerful larger society. There is no one to “broaden” the dispute with, unlike the actual examples from the text, in which the larger society has a degree of concern about the group to begin with that can be capitalized on by oppositional coalitions.

[_beastie]

Chapter 7
Apostasy, Apocalypse, and Religious Violence: An Exploratory Comparison of the Peoples Temple, the Branch Davidians, and the Solar Temple
John R Hall and Philip Schuyler

This essay also has limited impact on the discussion I plan regarding the validity of considering “exmormon narratives” to be equivalent to ‘apostate narratives” (thanks, Ray, for supplying the term exmormon narrative). It’s main exploration, as its title conveys, has to do with the escalation of conflict between NRMs and the larger society to the point of violence. It would, however, be interesting to apply this to the “Mormon Wars” and Mountain Meadows Massacre. However, it has very limited application to the modern LDS church and its leavetakers.

I do want to make clear what sort of violence is being discussed, however. It is not isolated acts of violence taken by specific frustrated individuals, but rather a large scale catastrophic violent event (such as Jim Jones).

The present chapter takes as its thesis the proposition that the most extreme cases of collective religious violence do not emerge from an intrinsic property of the groups themselves. Rather, our sociohistorical model theorizes that genesis of such violence in social conflicts between utopian religious movements on the one hand, and on the other hand, ideological proponents of an established social order, who seek to control “cults” through loosely institutionalized, emergent oppositional alliances. These alliances are typically crystallized by (1) cultural opponents of deviant groups, especially apostates and distraught relatives of members, but their consequences for violence depend on the degree to which they mobilize; (2) news reporters who frame cult stories in terms of moral deviance; and (3) modern governments that have incorporated the “religious” interest in enforcing cultural legitimacy into a state interest in monopolizing political legitimacy. In short, extreme religious violence is a result of the interaction between a complex of factors typically set in motion through apostasy and anti-subversion campaigns. (p 142)

This citation is interesting because it explores in more detail what is meant by an “oppositional alliance”. It isn’t just a group of people with a similar belief or attitude towards the NRM. It is a coalition of different groups, an ALLIANCE, that join together with the goal of applying social pressure to form some sort of external regulatory unit that will be able to control the NRM to a certain extent.

A religious movement’s structural location “outside” the existing social fabric frequently combines with its typical character as a “greedy institution,” often demanding a member’s complete commitment of time and energy; this, in turn, creates a gulf between group members and their families and previously established social networks, and it can promote both external militancy and the internal violence employed in social control. (p 143)

This citation is important in demonstrating the nature of the Subversive group “outside” the existing social fabric. In the next essay, Richardson adds a footnote which says that these groups are usually communal in nature, which provides more tension with the external society.

Among various types of utopian countercultural communities, those that embrace the apocalypse – the end times of a war between good and evil giving way to a new era of heaven brought to earth – have long been associated with high degrees of collective solidarity. But these features of utopian communal movements per se are not sufficient to explain outcomes of collective religious violence. Instead, in terms of the typology advanced by David Bromley (Chapter 2 this volume), compared to more “legitimate” organizations such as churches, businesses, and prisons, utopian communal movements are much more likely to be regarded as “subversive” and they are therefore especially likely to produce defectors who will take up the role of oppositional apostates and work to mobilize external opponents. If the opponents succeed in mobilizing agents of established social institutions (in our era, the mass media, politicians, and the state) to frame the movement as a threat to the established order, these agents may take actions intended to discredit the movement in the public eye, or subject it to actions and policies that undermine its capacity to exist as an autonomous organization. The principals of the apocalyptic group, in turn, may perceive these external challenges as threats to their own legitimacy and the power of their prophecy. Under these circumstances, violence toward opponents and collective suicide offer a way for the group’s true believers to attempt to salvage their own sense of their legitimacy, albeit at the cost of their own survival, by refusing to submit either to state authority or to external definitions of their identity. (p 143)

Again, although this essay addresses the extreme end of this conflict, this citation does help to provide context for the composition and goals of the “oppositional coalition”. If one is going to use this text as some sort of authority and source, one cannot proclaim that, for their purposes, a “coalition” is simply a group like exmormons posting on an internet board, or believers doing likewise, both with a library of supporting articles. That alters the context of the use of the term so fundamentally it is no longer valid to use this text as a support for any theory based on such alteration. This text makes it clear that an oppositional coalition is a group made of individuals with somewhat different goals and backgrounds, banding together in an ALLIANCE, with the goal of creating enough negative noise about the NRM that “agents of establishing social institutions” will finally intervene.

And, of course, it is in these attempts to finally intervene that the tinderbox is sometimes set aflame. The rest of this essay deals with specific tragedies, such as Jonestown, David Koresh, and the unusual case of Heaven’s Gate. One more citation will provide more context in regards to the nature of this oppositional coalition by providing an example:

The cultural opponents drawn together by Breault were mostly apostates from Koresh’s group, appalled that Koresh was teaching falsely from the Bible and engaging in polygamous practices of fathering children with teenaged brides – sometimes with the girls’ parents’ consent – for a new dynasty, the “House of David”. To mobilize against this cultural deviance, the apostates followed what amounted to a generic ACM strategy. They recruited relatives concerned about their family members in the group, and they took their cause to a wide range of mass media outlets, governmental agencies, and politicicians. As with Peoples Temple, the opponents had a hard time getting the media and authorities even to take notice, much less action. And as with Peoples Temple, where the opponents succeeded in mobilizing external sources of legitimacy, the ways in which they did so were consequential for the play of events. (p 154)

The authors’ main contention is that it is not enough that a group be apocalyptic in nature, but a threatening conflict between it and the host society must brew and in fact, provides the final match.

[_beastie]

Juliann’s response:

Very funny. Beastie/Trixie/Seven or whatever name she is currently hiding behind is making the mopologist case that joining Mormonism does not result in a loss of "free will" and that it does not separate families....in fact, it appears that Mormonism is very benign according to her (one of its biggest critics). Why? Because she thinks she has to neutralize one author in one book when there are a multitude of authors.

I know we all “look alike” to Juliann, but I have never portrayed Mormonism as a brainwashing, family-separating “cult”. If Juliann had a smidge of integrity, instead of just launching this seeming accusation of inconsistency, she would provide evidence that I’ve suddenly changed my story. Juliann, can you do that? Can you provide any evidence that I suddenly have changed my story?

It’s odd that I’m in the position to be “one of its biggest critics”. I don’t know how my position became so elevated. But alas, stories of my status have been exaggerated. I am a very vocal critic of certain LDS claims, such as the setting of Book of Mormon in Mesoamerica, and the claim (although postmodern apologetics makes the claim murky) that “revelation” is a reliable source of information about the world and how it works. But I don’t recall having made statements about Mormonism “brainwashing” people (in fact, when the topic has come up in the past, I am firmly skeptical about the entire phenomenon of “brainwashing”.)

Of course I do not believe that Mormonism is psychologically healthy for all individuals, but, according to Juliann, nor does she.

So Juliann – I again make the familiar old plea that I’m forced to make to you almost every time we have an interaction. Please provide evidence that I ever stated Mormonism results in a loss of “free will” and it “separates families” by the way, I have stated many times that Mormonism, if true, results in an involuntary divorce/separation of family units, but that is in the next life, not this.

Beastie badly, badly wants the church to fit one of Bromley's categories that suits her purposes (why, when there are so many other models is another question for another time). So she has to tie Armand Mauss to an article he wrote before the internet explosion and she has to create a world called "Utah" to make her stuff make sense. If you have a sneaking suspicion that most of Mormonism exists outside of Utah or that Utah doesn't control the USA or the world...don't say anything to her because meanwhile we are getting this good stuff!

Beastie doesn’t “badly badly” want the church to fit one of Bromley’s category. Bromley and Mauss both fit the LDS church in the Allegiant/possibly Contestant category.

Whether or not this book was written before the “internet explosion” is irrelevant in the context of your previous use of this book. You have repeatedly shared isolated citations from this book, and then demanded that critics “deal” with those citations, and have insisted that this is not your theory, but that of the sociologists. Now you seem to be dismissing the same book you’ve used as your primary resource because it was written before the “internet explosion.”

But tell me how the internet explosion changes the dynamic of the church’s organizational typology? Is there now a vast increase of tension between the LDS church and the host society? Are there now other groups who want to join with exmormons in agitating to get social agents to take action against the LDS church? Has the internet explosion resulted in brewing accusations that the LDS missionaries are luring individuals to seemingly innocuous settings like weekend retreats and then formally brainwashing them? Are Mormon converts being removed from “normal” society, and having to negotiate “re-entry” into that normal society when “escaping” the “cult”?

Please explain how the internet explosion now changes the entire social environment surrounding the LDS church so that the essays you once proclaimed to be your source that others had to “engage” are now outdated. And why didn’t you inform us of the outdated nature of these sources when you were claiming them as your authority?

But Beastie quickly steps in to violently disagree with her cohorts! This is news!

The news would be if you actually engaged this text in the way you demand of others.

Beastie says Mormons have moved beyond that kind of control! We are not destructive! We don't ruin people's lives with brainwashing!

Beastie is not saying this. Every time the LDS church is mentioned in your authoritative text, the authors say this. Beastie has never said that the church brainwashes people in the manner that the NRMs were accused of doing, by the way. But why listen to me when Juliann can speak for me? It’s so much more fun to simply construct strawmen and punch their lights out!!! Why that hypocrite beastie, changing her story from an evil brainwashing cult to an Allegiant organization!!!

Wow...how benign can we be? We are just normal! Just like everybody else!

It is bizarre to interact with you, Juliann, because I never recognize the person you are responding to. When have I portrayed Mormonism as fundamentally more “evil” than any other religion?

And you demonstrate, again, a shallow comprehension of the text I cited. The reason I cited Bromley was to attempt to demonstrate that the authors are not claiming that none of the details in the “atrocity” tales ever took place. Some of them are valid accusations. Bromley made this statement in order to qualify that he’s not denying some of the accusations are actually valid. And the statement, in and of itself, does not bestow benignancy or malignancy on any organization or claim. Had you actually processed the text instead of doing whatever it is you do with text, you would understand that, because some of the later examples provided actually did include atrocity claims that could be verified by data and research.

However, those who actively campaign...in fact make careers from badmouthing the church...are not considered benign leavetakers by any stretch of the word. It is very telling when someone can complain about "hiding history" as one blithely refuses to acknowledge the existence of the very thing that has changed human interaction and history...the internet. Books are now coming out ( that I have quoted) that are accounting for this new form of media that gives anyone the tools to move to full-blown apostate status. But let's hide that! Nobody will notice!

Once again you are taking my comments out of context. This is hardly surprising, given the fact that you did the same thing with your citations from this text.

I was trying to differentiate between apostates and whistleblowers. I’m not talking about who is or who is not benign, but rather attempting to differentiate between these categories due to the fact that the “apostate narrative” that you have attempted to use to bolster your case is actually quite specific to the apostate, and not the whistleblower. But I will provide more citations on that later, and you can enjoy taking them out of context as well.

Juliann quotes me:

Throughout the book the organizations used as examples for Subversive organizations are those groups which literally remove members from the external society in some sort of communal living setting. Members often have limited contact with family members, who naturally are upset, concerned, and agitated over the very real “loss” of a family member. These groups have often have controversial conversionary methods, such as the Moonies, in which young people are targeted and invited to visit the group for a weekend or some other short period. During this time, intense attention, restricted sleep, and sometimes restricted diet, repeated chanting, has led former members to accuse the group of deliberate “brainwashing” techniques. This is what is meant by “capture”. And, as later passages will demonstrate, “escape” means literally just that.

And she protests!!!!

Beastie is cleverly using the hysterical media interpretation which has been demonstrated to be inaccurate time and time again. In fact, the Moonies have gone through the same transformation that Beastie claims the Mormons have. Notice she is not about to tell anyone that.

Oh good grief. You didn’t understand this book at all. I am not cleverly “using the hysteria” that has been demonstrated to be inaccurate time and time again. I am using the author’s own words to differentiate between a Subversive organization and a Contestant or Allegiant organization. The authors always made clear that “Subversive” and the associated traits attached therein in the host society’s mind are not a judgment of any sort, but simply a reflection of the larger host society’s VIEW of the group. So the fact that the hysterical media interpretation existed is, in fact, the very point, completely aside from its validity.

[_beastie]

by the way, the book was published in 1998, hardly before the internet explosion.

[_beastie]

One more comment about Juliann's replies: there is nothing frightening about this topic. What is frightening, in my view, is how little you understood this text and then proceeded to use it as your authority on various threads, repeatedly challenged people to deal with your isolated citations as if you actually understood them - and how readily others followed your lead.

Yes, that is very frightening to me, because we see that same pattern repeated over and over throughout history.

[_Ray A]

Here is an excerpt from Massimo Introvigne's "Who is afraid of religious minorities". Although primarily discussing "moral panic" some excerpts are relevant to the discussion:

Third, since brainwashing theories are the object of considerable scholarly criticism, the model requires as a third step discrimination among sources and narratives. The French and Belgian reports make little or no use of scholarly sources. The Belgian report explicitly says that it is aware of scholarly objections against the mind control model, but it has made the ethical choice of preferring to these objections the accounts of "victims"[18]. By "victims" the Belgian Commission means those normally defined by social scientists as "apostates". These are the former members converted into active opponents of the group they have left. Although many such ex-members resent being called "apostates" the term is technical, not derogatory, and has been used for some decades, as documented in the recent excellent volume edited by David Bromley[19]. Although perhaps terms other than "apostates" may be used in the future, some sort of term is necessary in order to distinguish between "apostates" and other ex-members who do not turn against their former group. Empirical evidence on the prevalence of apostates among former members is available only for a limited number of new religious movements, but uniformly suggests that they are a minority[20], perhaps between 15 and 20 per cent. Most former members have mixed feelings about their former affiliations and, at any rate, are not interested in joining a crusade against the group they have left. "Apostates" are an interesting minority. The model, however, regards them as if they were the only representatives of the whole larger category of former members.

Objections that "apostates" are not necessarily representative are met by the fourth stage of the model. "Cults" or "sects" are not religions. They are not because they use brainwashing, while religions are by definition joined out of free will. We know that they use brainwashing because we rely on the testimony of "victims" (i.e. "apostates"). We know that "apostates" are representative of the groups' membership, or at least former membership, because they are screened and selected by private, reliable watchdog organizations. One easy objections to the Belgian report (where, unlike in the French case, proceeding of the hearings have been published) is that for most "cults" or "sects" the Commission has heard one, two or at any rate a very limited number of ex-members. Why they should be regarded as representative of the larger category of ex-members in general is not really explained. However, in light of comments in the report itself, it is at least likely that in most cases they have been hand-picked and introduced to the Commission by anti-cult organizations, whose role is both praised and supported by the report. Anti-cult organizations, we are told, are more reliable than academics because the former, unlike the latter, have a "practical" experience and work with "victims".

http://www.cesnur.org/testi/panic.htm