Religion and prison: higher things

David Buick. The practice of religion in prison is as widespread as religious belief itself. Indeed, it is often more widespread in prison than in the outside world. Whatever the country, prison is an environment in which people are abruptly brought face to face with existential issues such as death, guilt, forgiveness, and suffering, so their thoughts often turn to higher things. The religious dimension is recognised at an institutional level: the Nelson Mandela Rules¹ state that “So far as practicable, every prisoner shall be allowed to satisfy the needs of his or her religious life by attending the services provided in the prison and having in his or her possession the books of religious observance and instruction of his or her denomination”. One of the roles of IPCA is to ensure that these rules, including those on religious practice, are upheld at grassroots level, worldwide.

I’ve visited some 40 prisons in 15 countries. What changes from one country to the next is the extent to which the role of faith is actually recognised in the prison system.

In some countries where religion has been an important part of daily life or there is a state religion, it has played a defining role in prisons in many ways: it’s no accident that even in France, we still refer to the “penitentiary authorities” – an allusion to the Roman Catholic understanding of sin and penitence. The Bible itself makes clear reference to the idea of spiritual care for prisoners, so chaplaincy is naturally present in all countries with a Christian heritage.

Historically, in the UK, three people were deemed necessary for a prison to open: the governor, the doctor - and the chaplain. In some countries, chaplains are still on the prison’s paid staff.

However, not all religions share the same view of imprisonment. Depending on the dominant faith, this may result in less well-established chaplaincy services. In countries in which religious practice is marginalised, pastoral care may be barely tolerated by the authorities. The same is also true in certain countries in which religious leaders have openly opposed the totalitarian tendencies of the political leaders.

The privatisation of prisons can also have an impact on religious practice. In several countries in Latin America, faith-based organisations have been given full control of some prisons: religious activities therefore form an integral part of prison life. On the other hand, the privatisation of prisons in certain states in Australia has led to the management seeking to maximise performance in measurable terms: school grades and prison work productivity. While inmates being gainfully occupied all day is a positive development, the emphasis on quantitative results reduces the scope for chaplains to provide support in areas that are less easily measured, but just as important in terms of well-being.

DB. Whether they minister in a hospital, in prison, or in the armed forces, the role of chaplains is to allow those who are not free to go where they please to practice their faith. In prison, the precise role of chaplains varies depending on their official status and the economic environment where they are. The poorer the context, the greater the expectation that chaplains will provide material help. For instance, in some African countries, food is already a challenge for prison officers, let alone inmates. On the other hand, in countries where chaplains are on the prison staff, they may sit on official committees and manage several teams: in addition to chaplaincy services themselves, these may include teams of volunteers involved in areas well beyond traditional religious services such as bereavement counselling, literacy, and restorative justice.

Nevertheless, spiritual care remains chaplains’ ‘core business’. This takes different forms in different faiths. For Muslims, corporate prayer is usually the most important aspect. In the Jewish faith, chaplains will mainly be concerned with ensuring inmates have kosher food that complies with their religious observance. For Christians, in addition to religious services, one-to-one counselling plays a major role.

Whatever the faith in question, religious services function as something of a truce in prison life. Participants forget the bars and turn their minds to other things. Inmates who would not normally associate meet together, united by shared beliefs.

In some prisons, guards stay outside services; in others, they may attend in a professional capacity; sometimes they may even participate. One has to be realistic: religious services in prison can also be an opportunity for trafficking, fights, or worse. In 1990, a 25-day riot in Strangeways prison in the UK began at a chapel service. But in general, such times, and the religious beliefs they represent, are respected by everyone. To meet individual inmates, chaplains often have access to every area of a prison, including the cells, where they can talk to prisoners unaccompanied. On the face of it, many such conversations appear mundane: chaplains might chat about the weather and the news over coffee.

Inmates find themselves face-to-face with an “other”: someone who is not a fellow inmate, social worker, guard, or magistrate; this “other” from outside the system allows them to see themselves a little more clearly.

Over time, this type of interaction creates a trusting environment, and often leads to more meaningful discussions. At that point, chaplains can help inmates draw closer to a more transcendent “Other”. Chaplains have been described as “little hope-bearers”, and I think that’s a very good summary of our role.

DB. There are two opposing visions of ‘secularity’ (laïcité) in France: one takes the view that the secular state should confine religion strictly to the private sphere; the other sees religion as having a role to play in the public square, without any obligation or discrimination between different religious beliefs: the “freedom to believe, or not believe”. I very much subscribe to this latter position, and I believe it corresponds both to the spirit of France’s 1905 law separating church and state and to the reality in France today. In an often-misquoted article published in L’Express magazine in 1955, André Malraux said this: “In the face of the greatest threat humanity has ever faced, I believe the task of the next century will be to find room for the gods once again.”¹. Malraux hit the nail on the head. We cannot ignore humankind’s need for transcendence, or pretend that religious belief does not exist. History bears witness to the fact.

Overcoming violent extremism involves accepting religious practice rather than suppressing it.

To me, the rather knee-jerk reaction of certain French institutions against any religious expression looks more superstitious than rational; the Republic is not at its best when it strays from its remit of civil governance and starts harking back to the failed Cult of Reason² established after the French Revolution.

The chaplaincy model offers interesting possibilities in this respect, well beyond prison walls. In France, prison is one place where there is a clear recognition by the state of religion and its actors, granting prison chaplains a “moral and spiritual role”³ in law. Chaplains are thus recognised both by the authorities and by their own faith groups, which appoint them.

Over and above religious services, the benefits of chaplains’ presence in prison – de-escalating tensions, preventing suicide, offering a listening ear – are widely acknowledged.

In their ministry, French Military chaplains adopt the same rank as the person to whom they are speaking; a similar concept is to be found in prison chaplaincy. This unique status, in which chaplains are very much “in but not of” the institution, embodies a recognition of the universal human need for transcendence. Chaplaincy therefore offers an extremely useful model for addressing society’s urgent need to “find room for the gods once again”.