Abstract
The right-wing has accused the climate movement, and the climate science upon which it is based, of being apocalyptic to in order to discredit it. This editorial discusses whether we should accept describing the climate movement as apocalyptic. It does so by exploring the etymology of the term and its use in its religious/historical contexts. It discusses its relationship to the interrelated terms of prophecy, messianism, eschatology, and millenarianism. Through a deconstruction and demystification of the term apocalypse in its biblical historical context, it argues that we need to have a secular understanding of it which is indeed applicable to the climate crisis.
A recent article in Critical Research on Religion titled “‘The Cult of Greta Thunberg’: De-legitimating Climate Activism” (Kyyrö, Äystö, and Hjelm 2023, 134) employs Critical Discourse Analysis to analyze how the right-wing in Finland characterizes the climate movement as religious as a means to discredit and delegitimize it. They describe it as a cult, as being prophetic and messianic, apocalyptic, eschatological, and millenarian. Paradoxically, the right-wing accuses the climate movement of being religious while they are the ones denying scientific consensus. While the authors engage in a critical analysis of how the right-wing uses these words as labels, they do not analyze what these words mean in the existential historical contexts (economic, social, political) when they first appeared in religious texts and were later appropriated in various cultural forms such as literature, art, and popular culture.
A recently created Facebook page, Climate Apocalypse in the Anthropocene, regularly posts reports of disasters throughout the world that are aggravated by climate change. Mass media is on board too describing recent climate change aggravated wildfires as apocalyptic, even the staid New York Times (Kwai 2020, A7). While the reports are journalistic and the connection of these events to climate change based on science and not religious, their use of the word “apocalypse” to describe what is occurring raises a number of questions that address the applicability of the term: What are the origins of the term apocalypse? In what contexts was it used? In what ways is apocalypse as it has been used in a religious context appropriate in its application to the environmental crisis? Should we accept describing the climate crisis as apocalyptic?
In this editorial, I will discuss the relationship between the concepts of prophecy, messianism, eschatology, and millenarianism to apocalypticism. How are these religious concepts applicable to the climate movement and how are they not? Should we consider applying them simply as pejorative? Does using apocalyptic language suitably address the climate crisis or does it mischaracterize it? By exploring the religious contexts of the word apocalypse and its etymology, and placing it in its historical context, I hope to shed light not only on these questions, but to argue that we need to have a secular understanding of the term.
On apocalypticism
So, let’s begin with the origins of apocalypticism. The word apocalypse is an ancient Greek word, ἀποκάλυψις (apokálupsis), which means uncovering, unveiling, or “revelation.” In everyday and secular usage, it means disaster or catastrophe; in short, the end of the world. Interwoven with the premonition of apocalypticism is that of eschatology which concerns itself with the end of times (éskhaton ἔσχατον, which in ancient Greek means the “last thing”). In its biblical context, eschatology meant the end of foreign rule over ancient Judea and the establishment of a Davidic kingdom. This need not be negative, but when intermingled with apocalypticism (e.g., apocalyptic eschatology) it is (see Hanson 1979, 11; Reddish 1995, 19-20; E. Weber 1999, 29; Cohn 2001, 163; Himmelfarb 2010, 1).
While apocalyptic literature in Judaism emerged during the Hellenistic period (323-31 BCE), its sources lie in the prophetic tradition in the sixth and fifth centuries BCE (Hanson 1979, 29; Collins 2020,19). Around this time, there was a shift from prophetic to apocalyptic eschatology (Hanson 1979, 11, 43, 161, 181, 209-210). Max Weber (1952, 109, 193) distinguishes between two types of prophecy: prophecy of good fortune and prophecy of doom. This transition occurred around the time of the division of the monarchy into northern and southern kingdoms, which weakened both and enabled them to be conquered by the neo-Assyrians and Babylonians respectively. According to Mitchell Reddish, apocalyptic literature broadly conceived is a “crisis literature” (24); it is “a form of protest against society” (25). It challenges “the established order of things” (26). It “spoke out against a world of evil, violence, oppression, and injustice” and “provided visions of a better world, a world of peace and justice” (26). Apocalyptic literature has an otherworldly dimension. If not a belief in an otherworld, it involves “supernatural intervention” in this-worldly events (23).
While apocalypticism and eschatology point towards an end, millenarianism is the hope in a new beginning. Millenarianism in the Christian tradition is the belief in “a thousand years of peace, prosperity, happiness and good government, during which the saints and Christ will reign on earth” (E Weber 1999, 147, see also 232). After the cataclysm, there will be a New Jerusalem, Heaven on Earth. The Bible is full of apocalyptic catastrophes. Even if they occur in the form of natural disasters, like floods and earthquakes, they are attributed to straying from God’s commandments because his people have committed sins like avarice and greed, adultery and fornication. It is a fight between good and evil, between the righteous and the wicked. In some Christian versions including the rapture, the righteous who are part of the elect will be chosen to go to heaven, while those who are not will be condemned to death, purgatory, or hell. This is based on Manichean dualisms of good and evil, the righteous and the wicked, light and darkness as in “The Community Rule” of the Qumran community (1QS II-III; Vermes 2004, 99-102).
Biblical scholars consider only two books in the canon to be truly apocalyptic in a thoroughgoing manner: the Book of Daniel in the Old Testament and Revelation by John in the New Testament, while other books contain apocalyptic themes and sections. While the Book of Daniel, inspired by the Maccabean revolt beginning in 167 BCE, is the last book that was written in the Old Testament, Revelation by John, which was written after the destruction of the second temple in 70CE, has been placed at the end of the New Testament.
Though the interpretation of dreams and visions, the Book of Daniel foretells of the “end of days” (2:28; 10:14), four kingdoms (empires) which wage war with each other (11:40-45), the transgression of Israel (9:11, 16), the destruction of Jerusalem by war and flood (9:26-27), the presence of the Ancient One (or Ancient of Days) and the coming of the “Son of Man” (7:9,13), the awakening of the dead (12:2), and a fifth everlasting kingdom (7:27).
Revelation by John of Patmos employs much of the imagery of Daniel and the twelve prophets. Like Daniel, there is a resurrection of the dead (20:12). But it goes further: not only is there mention of the “Son of Man” (1:13; 14:14) but the “Son of God” (2:18) and the Messiah (12:10). There are Christological motifs as well: the Devil and Satan (2:9; 12:9; 20:2) and Hades (6:8; 20:14). It speaks of Judgment Day (a day of wrath) marked not just by war (the final battle between good and evil, i.e., Armageddon (16:16)), but natural disasters. There are flashes of lightening, peals of thunder, and earthquakes (4:5; 11:19; 17:18, 21). Water becomes blood (16:4) and there are lakes of fire (20:14). John’s revelation takes place through the opening of seven seals. Upon the opening of the sixth seal, there came a great earthquake; the sun became black as sackcloth, the full moon became like blood, and the stars of the sky fell to earth as the fig tree drops its winter fruit when shaken by a gale. The sky vanished like a scroll rolling itself up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place. (Rev 6:12-14)
But there is more: “there came hail and fire, mixed with blood and they were hurled to the earth; and a third of the earth was burned up, and a third of the trees were burned up, and all green grass was burned up” (8:7). Further, “a great mountain, burning with fire, was thrown into the sea. A third of the sea became blood, a third of the living creatures in the sea died” (8:8-9). Finally, “a third of the waters became wormwood, and many died from the water, because it was made bitter” (8:11).
Like in other books in the Bible, in Revelation, God pronounces that he is not only the beginning but the end (the Alpha and Omega) (1:8, 21:5; 22:13). The book foretells of the second coming of Jesus (22:20), a New Jerusalem (21:2), and the thousand-year reign of Christ (20:4). In Revelation, apocalypse is not the end of the world but a new beginning.
There are also other texts in the Old Testament which have apocalyptic elements: Ezekiel, Zechariah, Joel, Isaiah, and Malachi. There are about fifteen pieces of Jewish apocalyptic literature written between 250 and 100 BCE. Non-canonical texts, like 4 Ezra, which is a deuterocanonical or apocryphal, and 1 Enoch and 2 Baruch, are written pseudonymously. The Dead Sea Scrolls of the Qumran community also have apocalyptic elements. Apocalyptic literature continues in the Christian tradition. In addition to Revelation, there are forebodings in the Gospels and the Pauline letters. There is also later Christian apocalyptic literature like the Apocalypses of Peter (ca. 135CE) and Paul (ca. 388CE) as well as that which is outside the Judeo-Christian tradition: Greco-Roman and Persian (E. Weber 1999; Cook 2003, 27-28, 125; Himmelfarb 2010, 2, 55; Collins 2020, 19; Paul 2020, 36; Roland 2020, 247; DiTommaso 2020, 319).
To understand apocalyptic biblical literature, we need to understand its historical context: the loss of an independent united monarchy and the succession of occupation of ancient Judea and Israel by the neo-Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, and Romans. The Messiah (“the anointed one”) was to be one from the Davidic line who would free ancient Judea from foreign occupation.
This belief in the messiah, messianism, is a crisis theory. The messiah only “enters during periods of catastrophe…” (Unheil) “and brings about salvation” (Heil) (Goldstein 2005, 129; see also Weber 1952, 327). With the destruction of the second temple by the Romans, there was a loss of hope and messianism took an otherworldly form in the emergence of Christianity out of Judaism. Connected with this is Judgment Day, the Day of Jahwe, when the righteous shall be rewarded and the wicked punished. The Son of Man although riding on the clouds in heaven (Dan 7:13) is a human being here on earth. Giorgio Agamben distinguishes between apocalypticism and messianism. Apocalypticism, according to him, is “situated on the last day, the Day of Wrath.” Whereas apocalypticism is eschatological and concerned with “the end of time,” messianism is concerned with “the time of the end” (Agamben 2005, 62).
The apocalypse takes on many different forms. In biblical literature, the cause is attributed to straying from God’s commandments although the real cause was principally the destruction and devastation due to conquest in war. However, it is often accompanied by natural disasters: storms, thunder and lightning, earthquakes, floods, drought, fire, and famine.
The Apocalypse of Peter describes the catastrophe which is to unfold on Judgment Day: cataracts of fire shall be let loose; and obscurity and darkness shall come up and cover and veil the entire world, and the waters shall be changed and transformed into coals of fire, and all that is in it (the earth?) shall burn and the sea shall become fire; under the heaven there shall be a fierce fire that shall not be put out and it flows for the judgment of wrath. (Reddish 1995, 248)
Apocalyptic literature is not confined to Jewish and Christian biblical literature. Elements of it are to be found in the polytheism of ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, and India. Noah’s flood is based on the Epic of Gilgamesh and Zoroastrian beliefs found their way into ancient Judaism (Cohn 2001, 220). Apocalyptic beliefs continued in many different forms throughout the Middle Ages for example in the writings of Joachim di Fiore (Whalen 2020, 194; Hughes 2020, 262), in the renaissance paintings of Botticelli (Boxall 2020, 212), and in the modern period.
Apocalypticism is found not only in the western Jewish and Christian traditions but in Islam as well. Twelver Shia Islam with its twelfth or hidden Imam is messianic (the Mahdi). A recent offshoot among the Sunnis, the Islamic State is an “apocalyptic Salafi-jihadi movement” that hopes to bring about “an Armageddon-style dichotomy conflict” (Cook 2020, 286).
In the United States, the dispensational premillennialism of conservative evangelicalism is apocalyptic most notably in the preaching of Billy Graham, Oral Roberts, Jerry Falwell, Jim and Tammy Baker, Jimmy Swaggart, and Pat Robertson (Hummel 2020, 288, 290, 303). The rapture was popularized by the Left Behind book series and Hal Lindsey’s film The Late Great Planet Earth took apocalypse to the screen (Collins 2020, 33; Hummel 2020, 303). There have also been apocalyptic cults which ended in collective suicide; they include Jim Jones’s People’s Temple, David Koresh’s Branch Davidians, and the Heaven’s Gate Cult (DiTommaso 2020, 332). In its most recent incarnation, John Hagee’s Christian Zionism is apocalyptic (Hummel 2020, 312).
Not only the right, but the left have also had apocalyptic visions (see Crossley 2021). More orthodox interpretations of Marx have an apocalyptic tone (Hummel 2020, 309). Paralleling the biblical dialectic of disaster and salvation, Marx’s argued that capitalism is inherently crisis prone and that the revolution will bring about social transformation; it will usher in a new era of communism—a resolution of the dialectical conflict “between man and nature and between man and man” (Marx and Engels [1844] 1975, 296), an economic heaven on earth.
Finally, climate change is not the only source of apocalyptic anxiety in the modern era. Other have included world wars, nuclear war, and most recently COVID (see Crossley 2021).
Is climate science apocalyptic?
Given this understanding of what apocalyptic means in historical context, is it apt to describe climate movement as apocalyptic? The climate movement is guided by climate science and the warnings of climate scientists do sound apocalyptic. In 1992, a letter spearheaded by the Union of Concerned Scientists (1992) warned that “human beings and the natural world are on a collision course” (quoted in Jackson and Jensen 2022, 9). While many of the factors are interrelated (like deforestation and mass extinction) chief among the culprits contributing to the degradation of the environment is climate change.
Two recent books use apocalypse in their titles to address the issue of climate change: Facing Apocalypse: Climate, Democracy, and Other Last Chances written by Catherine Keller (2021), a professor of theology at Drew University and An Inconvenient Apocalypse: Environmental Collapse, Climate Crisis, and the Fate of Humanity by Wes Jackson and Robert Jensen, who describe themselves as Christian but secular (2022, 115). For Keller (2021, xvi), apokalypsis “does not signify the end of the world” but, on the contrary, it means to “dis/close”; its original use described the unveiling of the bride. She points out that “prophecy is not prediction” but rather “a prophet reads a potent pattern of civilization” (xiv). Jackson and Jensen (2022, 5) claim that they use the term “apocalyptic” in a secular sense. They concur that apocalypse in the ancient Greek sense is synonymous with its Latin equivalent of revelation and means the “lifting of the veil, a disclosure of something that is hidden…, a coming to clarity” (77). They agree that prophets do not predict the future but rather remind “people of the best of the tradition and point out how they have strayed.” They are willing to confront the “the abuses of the powerful” while recognizing our own complicity (80). The shift from the prophetic to the apocalyptic signifies the loss of hope in “meaningful change within existing systems” and an attempt to “think in dramatically new ways” (81). Drawing off biblical literature, they believe in a “post-apocalyptic” “saving remnant” of those who are left after the catastrophe (96).
Not all climate scientists are secular. For example, Katharine Hayhoe (2021) has made it as her mission to educate Christians about climate change. She believes that as a Christian it is her “God-given responsibility” to advocate “stewardship and sustainability”—not in a domination over nature but rather in a “dominion over every living thing on this planet” (19).
Based on climate science, David Wallace-Wells (2020) in The Uninhabitable Earth, looks at both best- and worst-case scenarios given the current trajectory of carbon emissions. He identifies a number of different disasters caused by climate change: famine due to drought, a scarcity of fresh water, flooding caused by sea level rise due to the melting of glaciers, wildfires, heatwaves, more intense storms (hurricanes and tornados), dying oceans including coral bleaching, unbreathable air, an increase in diseases caused by warmer temperatures, increased conflict between countries over resources, and economic and systemic collapse. Wallace-Wells recognizes that the severity of these conditions is dependent on how much we do to reduce carbon emissions. While the book is about climate change and not about religion, on a few occasions he does use the term “apocalyptic” to describe what may await us (157, 229, 239). He points out that that the research on climate science is “the product of a sort of awakening—the sort that might once have been called a revelation” (255).
Kim Stanley Robinson’s science fiction novel The Ministry for the Future portends what the future might hold given our current trajectory of carbon emissions. The book begins with the tipping point of a summer heat wave in India where the wet bulb factor proved fatal causing the deaths of millions (Robinson 2020, 23). In response, the Indian government, engaged in geo-engineering by dispersing sulfur dioxide in the upper atmosphere to block sunlight, which temporarily mitigated the problem. In addition, a fictional future COP29 (Conference of the Parties) in Bogota, Columbia, based on the Paris Agreement, established the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change nicknamed The Ministry for the Future (15-16). Initially, the ministry’s responses were too slow, since carbon levels along with its accompanying disasters continued to increase but there was pressure from eco-terrorist organizations like the Children of Kali (named after the Hindu goddess of destruction), which engaged in attacks on carbon polluters (368). Responding to this, the ministry embarked on a number of initiatives to reduce carbon emissions. Central to them was the creation of a new currency, the Carboni (carbon coins), whose value is based on keeping carbon in the ground (one coin for each ton of carbon dioxide sequestered) (294). This allowed for a number of investment opportunities including natural solutions like reforestation and the reestablishment of wildlife corridors and technological solutions like carbon capture, stabilizing the glaciers by pumping out melted water from underneath them and freezing it by spraying it into the air, and coating the Arctic Ocean with yellow die to prevent feedback loops (454, 477). The book envisions a radically different future society where airplanes are replaced by battery powered airships, carbon levels are brought under control, and human beings are on the path to living more in harmony with nature.
Conclusion
So, back to the central question: is the climate movement, and the climate science upon which it is based, apocalyptic? If apocalyptic is meant in the sense of revelation, that is to reveal something, it does. The question is by who? And the answer is: not by God but by science. It reveals that temperature levels correlate with the amount of carbon in the atmosphere. Given the current trajectory of increased carbon emissions, we have seen an increase in average global temperatures, which has all sort of catastrophic consequences. This is not religious; it is not based on belief but on science—on empirically verifiable data.
Do climate scientists engage in prophecy? Do they make predictions or foretell the future? Climate scientists conduct science. Based on their findings, they may extrapolate future case scenarios using statistical methods, but it is always based on the understanding of statistical error. They project that given the current trajectories of carbon levels, we will see increased energy in the atmosphere resulting in a wide range of negative consequences. There is still much scientists do not know about how the world will evolve due to climate change. Climate science is butting up against the frontiers of our knowledge and in this case time. Also, much biblical prophecy was based on events that had already happened but acted if they had not yet occurred. In contrast, climate science is based on what has already occurred up until now and engages in projections given current trends. Here Agamben’s (2005, 61) distinction between prophet and apostle is useful. A prophet is defined by their relationship to the future whereas apostles are concerned with the present. Climate scientists are concerned with both the present and the future.
Apocalyptic biblical literature was originally written in a geopolitical context; it was a response to foreign occupation and the destruction of war. For climate science, on the other hand, war is not causal but a possible consequence of competition for increasingly scarcer resources, some exacerbated by climate change (e.g., fresh water and food). Biblical apocalyptic literature was concerned with the destruction of Jerusalem while climate science concerns the entire planet.
Unlike apocalyptic literature, climate science is not otherworldly; there is nothing metaphysical about it. There is no heaven or hell, God or the devil. Apocalyptic literature is literary and metaphorical; climate research is scientific and peer-reviewed.
Central to biblical apocalyptic literature is messianism, the belief in a messiah (a savior). While the right-wing may portray Greta Thunberg as a messianic figure, the reality is that this is a collective endeavor and we all need to save ourselves by rapidly switching to clean and renewable energy.
Yet, there are some analogies. One could say that when it comes to climate change, there are forces of good and evil. There are the climate change deniers who despite all evidence to the contrary oppose taking the necessary steps to ward off future catastrophes. The force behind this is the fossil fuel industry which is more interested in short term profitability rather than the future habitability of this planet. On the other hand, there are those who understand that we need to act as quickly as possible to reduce carbon emissions and live more in harmony with nature. However, the righteous shall not necessarily be rewarded nor the wicked punished. The consequences of climate change will fall disproportionately on the global poor. And there is no heaven on earth. Either there is continued degradation of the environment and the consequences that come along with it or there is a movement to a humanity that lives more in harmony with nature and with itself.
Are we facing apocalypse? The answer is yes but only if we understand it in secular terms. It is through this deconstruction and demystification of the term apocalypse in its biblical historical context, that we can aptly apply it to the climate crisis so that we may collectively attempt to avert its worst consequences that may await us.
