{"id":6639,"date":"2022-11-01T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2022-11-01T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/2022\/11\/01\/fuel-or-immunity\/"},"modified":"2022-11-01T00:00:00","modified_gmt":"2022-11-01T00:00:00","slug":"fuel-or-immunity","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/2022\/11\/01\/fuel-or-immunity\/","title":{"rendered":"Fuel or Immunity?"},"content":{"rendered":"

A surprising take on the dynamics between religion and right-wing populism<\/strong><\/p>\n

Illustrations by Brad Holland<\/p>\n

Is religion a fuel for, or a barrier against, the rise of right-wing populist politics in the West? This question is preoccupying faith leaders, politicians, and commentators alike on both sides of the Atlantic as right-wing populists make conspicuous use of Christian language and symbols. <\/p>\n

In Germany, for example, the anti-Islamist Patriotic Europeans against the Islamization of the West (PEGIDA) paraded oversized crosses in Germany\u2019s national colors at their demonstrations. Another right-wing populist group, Alternative f\u00fcr Deutschland (AfD), inserted a defense of Germany\u2019s Judeo-Christian heritage into its party manifesto. <\/p>\n

In France the Rassemblement National (RN) challenged the rules of la\u00efcit\u00e9\u2014<\/i>the foundational French principle of secular governance\u2014by pushing for Nativity scenes in public spaces. At the same time, far-right firebrand \u00c9ric Zemmour proclaimed that Catholicism has a \u201cbirth right\u201d to cultural hegemony in France. <\/p>\n

Meanwhile, in the United States, President Trump styled himself as the defender of Christian America by posing with a Bible in his hand in front of St. John\u2019s Church in Washington, DC, and some of his supporters paraded oversized crosses and Jesus flags during the storming of the U.S. Capitol in January 2021. <\/p>\n

Given the centrality of Christian symbolism in right-wing populist rhetoric, many observers have assumed close ties between conservative Christianity and the populist right.1<\/sup> However, several studies, focusing on the motives, strategies, and policies of right-wing populist leaders and movements, have argued otherwise. They contend that when right-wing populists make reference to Christianity, it primarily reflects a culturalized but largely secular \u201ccivilizationism.\u201d Thus, right-wing populists \u201chijack\u201d Christianity to serve as an exclusivist identity-marker against Islam without necessarily embracing Christianity as a faith.2<\/sup> <\/p>\n

For instance, in spite of its prominent references to Christianity, the AfD has been shown to be one of Germany\u2019s most secular parties in terms of its leadership and membership.3<\/sup> It has openly attacked German churches that have welcomed refugees, demanded the abolition of church privileges in taxation or education, and pushed for an overhaul of Germany\u2019s church-friendly constitutional settlement of \u201cbenevolent neutrality.\u201d4<\/sup> <\/p>\n

Similarly, in France the RN has remained absent from the Catholic grassroots demonstrations against same-sex marriage, while styling itself as the main champion of a strictly secularist reading of la\u00efcit\u00e9<\/i> and defender of women and LGBTQ rights against conservative religion.5<\/sup> <\/p>\n

Even in the United States, where the Trump administration sought to balance clashes with America\u2019s churches on immigration and race relations by catering to the Christian right on social issues, observers have argued that Trumpism has been primarily driven by the rise of a \u201cpost-Christian right,\u201d which is less socially conservative but more radical in its opposition to immigration, Islam, and racial equality.6<\/sup><\/p>\n

Given this apparent tension between right-wing populists\u2019 religion-laden rhetoric and some of their seemingly less Christian policy positions, the question arises as to how these parties\u2019 politics are perceived by Christian communities themselves. <\/p>\n

Religious Vaccination? <\/strong><\/p>\n

At first glance, a review of election results, survey data, and existing quantitative studies suggests a high degree of variation in the responses of Christian communities to right-wing populist politics across Western countries. In the US, Christians\u2014and White Evangelicals in particular\u2014are among Donald Trump\u2019s most loyal supporters: more than 80 percent of White Evangelicals and strong majorities of White Catholics and other Protestants voted for Trump in 2016 and 2020, leading observers to interpret Trumpism as the latest expression of America\u2019s tradition of White Christian nationalism.7<\/sup> <\/p>\n

In Western Europe, however, scholars have identified a \u201creligion gap\u201d or \u201creligious vaccination effect\u201d among Christian voters against<\/i> voting for right-wing populists.8<\/sup> In Germany, for instance, the AfD has consistently performed almost twice as well among irreligious voters as among Catholics and Protestants. In France the FN\/RN has traditionally performed significantly worse among churchgoing Catholics compared to other parts of the population. In the 2012 presidential election, for instance, only 4 percent of practicing Catholics chose right-wing populist candidate Marine Le Pen, compared to 18 percent of the general population.9<\/sup>  Similar trends have been observed in other European countries, ranging from Denmark to Italy, Austria to Portugal. <\/p>\n

On the surface there is a high level of variation in electoral outcomes between Christians in Western Europe and Christians in America. Yet a closer inspection of attitudes and socio\u00addemographic backgrounds reveals a more uniform development underneath: namely, a growing schism between the traditional religious right and a new secular right. For instance, the 2016 GOP primary results showed that Donald Trump\u2019s earliest and most solid supporters were not the most pious. Rather, they were religiously unaffiliated voters, among whom he performed almost twice as well as among frequent churchgoers (57 percent versus 29 percent).10<\/sup> <\/p>\n

This observation is symptomatic of a schism in the Republican electorate, as America\u2019s Christian congregations are becoming more global in outlook and racially diverse in their membership. At the same time, Donald Trump\u2019s core base of working-class White people has undergone a process of rapid secularization in recent years.11<\/sup> The latter process has led to the emergence of a growing number of nonprac\u00adticing \u201ccultural Evangelicals.\u201d who might culturally identify as \u201cChristian\u201d or \u201cEvangelical,\u201d but who are increasingly dissociated from churches, congregations, and evangelical beliefs.12<\/sup> Like their European counterparts, these nonpracticing \u201ccultural Christians\u201d often prove more sympathetic toward right-wing populist positions and candidates than their churchgoing brethren.13<\/sup> <\/p>\n

American political commentator Peter Beinart has suggested a reason for this: \u201cWhen cultural conservatives disengage from organized religion, they tend to redraw the boundaries of identity, deemphasizing morality and religion and emphasising race and nation.\u201d14<\/sup> <\/p>\n

But why, then, did American Christians diverge so strongly from their European brethren in their support for the populist right? Why did they embrace Donald Trump after the GOP primaries, whereas churchgoing Europeans continued to vote for far-right parties at much lower levels? <\/p>\n

(A Lack of) Christian Alternatives<\/strong><\/p>\n

One key factor in this context is the political competition faced by right-wing populists\u2019 and especially the role of conservative and Christian democratic parties. The underlying logic here is that religious immunity against populism is indirect. It rests on the mechanism that, in countries with strong Christian democratic parties, Christian voters are simply \u201cnot \u2018available\u2019 to these [right-wing populist] parties, because they are still firmly attached to Christian Democratic or conservative parties.\u201d15<\/sup> <\/p>\n

In the case of Germany, for instance, the powerful Christian Democratic party (the CDU\/CSU) has ownership over key Christian issues and provides a political home for Christian voters. This, scholars have argued, is a key explanatory variable for the strength of the religious immunization effect against the populist right.16<\/sup> <\/p>\n

Similarly in France, the center-right Les R\u00e9publicains (LR) has for many decades provided French Catholics with a fixed political home. Initially, the 2017 presidential election seemed to confirm this rule. In the first round of voting, 46 percent of practicing Catholics and 55 percent of the most frequent churchgoers cast their vote for the LR candidate Fran\u00e7ois Fillon, compared to only 20.1 percent of the general population.17<\/sup> <\/i><\/p>\n

While this support demonstrated French Catholics\u2019 continued attachment to the center right, however, it also epitomized a new dilemma for Catholics. The Catholic turnout was insufficient to enable Fillon in 2017 (or his successor, Val\u00e9rie P\u00e9cresse, in 2022) to enter the second round of the presidential elections. Thus, Catholics were left with the choice between Emmanuel Macron\u2019s socially liberal LREM and Marine Le Pen\u2019s right-wing populist RN. <\/p>\n

Given Macron\u2019s party\u2019s embrace of liberal positions on social issues such as embryo research, assisted suicide, surrogacy, and assisted reproductive technology for same-sex couples, this boiled down to what one Catholic commentator called a choice between the \u201cchaos\u201d of the RN and the \u201cdecay\u201d of Emmanuel Macron\u2019s socially liberal agenda.18<\/sup> As result, in both the 2017 and 2022 runoffs, religious immunity markedly eroded as politically \u201chomeless\u201d Catholics voted for Marine Le Pen\u2019s RN at similar or even higher rates than their secular neighbors.<\/p>\n

Party loyalty and a perceived lack of alternatives also emerged as key factors in shaping Donald Trump\u2019s ability to attract many initially sceptical Christian voters in the US\u2014albeit in different ways. For one, American faith voters have a long-standing attachment to \u201cGod\u2019s Own Party.\u201d Thus, rather than strengthening faith-based inhibitions against right-wing populism by binding Christians to a competitor party, this helps explain why many Christians voted for Trump during the general election even if they had opposed him during the primaries. <\/p>\n

Indeed, White Evangelicals were the most likely group to say that they supported Trump mainly because he was the Republican nominee (38 percent of them gave this reason, compared to 28 percent of GOP voters in general and 13 percent of irreligious Trump supporters).19<\/sup>  <\/p>\n

Perhaps even more important than Christians\u2019 loyalty to the Republican Party (positive partisanship), however, was apparently their rejection of the Democratic alternative (negative partisanship). Pew Research found, for instance, that among Catholic, Evangelical, and mainline Protestant Trump voters, Trump\u2019s single most attractive feature was that \u201che is not Hillary Clinton,\u201d with 76 percent of White Evangelicals citing this as a \u201cmajor reason\u201d for supporting Trump in 2016.20<\/sup> <\/p>\n

Faith Leaders and the Social Firewall<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yet the lack of party alternatives alone cannot fully account for the ability of right-wing populists to co-opt religion for political gain. Instead, a second important yet often overlooked factor is the role of faith leaders and institutional churches. Their willingness and ability either to condone and legitimize or to challenge and socially taboo the religious references of right-wing populists appears to correlate directly with the strength of religious immunity.21<\/sup> <\/p>\n

Scholars have long emphasized the importance of social taboos established by elite actors in determining social and political behavior in general, and in voters\u2019 reaction to right-wing populist movements in particular.22<\/sup> Mainstream parties or the media are, for instance, central actors in establishing social taboos around right-wing populists through a cordon sanitaire<\/i> of noncooperation or non-reporting.<\/p>\n

Church leaders may play a similar role within congregations through public statements, sermons, and social-norm setting. In Germany, for example, the churches\u2019 consistent and unambiguous public opposition to the AfD has often been credited with creating a strong \u201csocial firewall\u2019 in religious communities against the populist right.23<\/sup> Both the Protestant and Catholic church leadership condemned AfD rhetoric as \u201chate speech,\u201d24<\/sup> declared the positions of the AfD leadership to \u201cstand in profound contradiction to the Christian faith,\u201d and spoke out in favor of welcoming refugees.25<\/sup> Given this clear public demarcation, disaffection to the AfD has become associated with significant social costs among church members. <\/p>\n

For decades France\u2019s Catholic Church was no less pronounced in its public opposition to the FN\/RN. Its repeated interventions included warning Catholics that the FN\u2019s positions were \u201cincompatible with the gospel and the teaching of the church\u201d (Cardinal Decourtray), individual clergy denying FN politicians the holy sacraments, and ubiquitous sermons against the FN. The institutional church appeared committed to maintaining a strong social taboo against support for the FN. According to some scholars, this led to an \u201cinstitution effect\u201d and a \u201cPope Francis effect,\u201d and thus whenever church authorities publicly spoke out in favor of immigration or against the populist right, sympathies with the latter decreased among practicing Catholics in France.26<\/sup> <\/p>\n

In the second round of the 2017 and 2022 presidential elections, however, Catholic authorities ceased to make use of this authority. Unlike in previous elections and in contrast to their Protestant, Muslim, and Jewish colleagues, in 2017 and 2022 the Catholic hierarchy gave no voting instructions against the FN\/RN, but referred voters to \u201ctheir own discernment.\u201d <\/p>\n

The reasons for this silence were linked primarily to a broader retreat of France\u2019s episcopate from public life in the wake of sexual abuse scandals. The consequences, however, were highly political, undermining the social taboo around the RN by discouraging clergy from using their authority to criticize the RN. This further separated religion from politics, and thereby implicitly undermined the church\u2019s moral authority in political issues in general. <\/p>\n

In the long run, some Catholic leaders publicly cautioned that such developments may contribute to a situation in France, similar to that in the US, where the inability or unwillingness of US faith leaders to create a social taboo around Trumpism appears to be a key variable in understanding the lack of religious immunity there. <\/p>\n

As in France, the comparative lack of social taboos around right-wing populism in the US is not necessarily a result of the faith leaders\u2019 affinity with Trumpism. On the contrary, my own research as well as data from the National Association of Evangelicals has shown that most of their leaders were initially highly critical of Trumpism. Similarly, senior representatives of American Catholicism and mainline Protestantism have repeatedly and publicly condemned Trump\u2019s politics. <\/p>\n

In trying to understand why faith leaders\u2019 scepticism did not translate into the same social taboo among their flock as had been the case in Europe, two factors are particularly important. First, the decentralized structure of the American religious landscape limited Christian leaders\u2019 ability<\/i> to \u201cspeak for Christianity\u201d publicly. America\u2019s religion-friendly separation of church and state has created a religious marketplace full of diversity and vitality. Yet the same diversity also means that no single set of leaders can speak with the level of authority for American Christianity, as, for instance, an alliance of Protestant and Catholic Bishops could in Germany or France. Such dynamics are exacerbated by an accelerating crisis of religious hierarchies and shift toward non-\u00addenominational churches in America in recent decades.27<\/sup> <\/p>\n

A second key factor amplified these structural limitations to American faith leaders\u2019 ability to be heard<\/i>; that is, a reported lack of willingness to speak out<\/i> against Trumpism. Indeed, surveys show that half of American pastors felt limited in their ability to speak out on moral and social issues, and that only one in five (21 percent) felt comfortable speaking out about specific political actors.28<\/sup> <\/p>\n

In my conversations with faith leaders, many of them confirmed that Trumpism was a particularly delicate topic. Many conservative pastors who were alarmed about Trump said they did not dare speak out because of fear of running into conflict with congregants or donors. <\/p>\n

As a result, the silence of American faith leaders emerges as a crucial factor in accelerating many American Christians\u2019 \u201cconversion\u201d to the populist right, whereas the outspoken opposition of German and French faith leaders had a significant impact in bolstering Western European Christians\u2019 religious immunity to right-wing populism. <\/p>\n

Future in the Balance<\/strong><\/p>\n

These findings\u2014about the potential for religious immunity against the far right, as well as its dependence on the behavior of political and religious elites\u2014are significant. They are important not least because they challenge traditional assumptions about the nexus between conservative Christianity and the populist right. <\/p>\n

Thus, right-wing populism is not merely a revival of America\u2019s old religious right and its expansion to Europe. It appears, instead, to be linked to the processes of secularization and the resulting rise of a new post-religious right in Western Europe and America. This new post-religious right is distinct from Christian beliefs and institutions and is often politically, culturally, and sociodemographically opposed to them as well. <\/p>\n

Whether or not the old religious right and the new secular right might clash or cooperate will depend on the behavior of faith leaders and political elites. Far from being helpless bystanders, these actors play an outsized role as the populist wave breaks over the West. They will help shape not only the electoral fortunes of right-wing populists but also what role religion will come to play in Western societies going forward.<\/p>\n

1 Andrea Althoff, \u201cRight-Wing Populism and Religion in Germany: Conservative Christians and the Alternative for Germany (AfD),\u201d Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Religion, Gesellschaft und Politik<\/i> 2, no. 2 (2018): 335-363; Philip S. Gorski and Samuel L. Perry, The Flag and the Cross<\/i> (New York: Oxford University Press, 2022); Andrew Whitehead and Samuel Perry, Taking America Back for God<\/i> (New York: Oxford University Press, 2020.<\/p>\n

2 Rogers Brubaker, \u201cBetween Nationalism and Civilizationism: The European Populist Moment in Comparative Perspective,\u201d Ethnic and Racial Studies<\/i> 40, no. 8 (2017): 1191-1226; Nadia Marzouki, Duncan McDonnell, Olivier Roy, Saving the People: How Populists Hijack Religion <\/i>(London: Hurst, 2016).<\/p>\n

3 David Elcott et al., Faith, Nationalism, and the Future of Liberal Democracy<\/i> (Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2021).<\/p>\n

4 Tobias Cremer, \u201cA Religious Vaccination? How Christian Communities React to Right-Wing Populism in Germany, France and the US,\u201d Government and Opposition<\/i>, (2021): 1-21.<\/p>\n

5 Dimitri Almeida, \u201cExclusionary Secularism: The Front National and the Reinvention of la\u00efcit\u00e9, \u201d Modern & Contemporary France<\/i> 25, no. 3 (2013): 249-263; Marzouki, McDonnell, Roy. <\/p>\n

6 Eric Kaufmann, Whiteshift: Populism, Immigration and the Future of White Majorities<\/i>, (London: Penguin, 2018); Timothy Carney, Alienated America: Why Some Places Thrive While Others Collapse<\/i> (New York: HarperCollins, 2019). <\/p>\n

7 Gorski and Perry, op cit<\/i>; Whitehead and Perry, op cit<\/i>. <\/p>\n

8 Tim Immerzeel, Eva Jaspers, and Marcel Lubbers, \u201cReligion as Catalyst or Restraint of Radical Right Voting?\u201d West European Politics<\/i> 36, no. 5 (2013): 946-968; Pascal Siegers and Alexander Jedinger, \u201cReligious Immunity to Populism: Christian Religiosity and Public Support for the Alternative for Germany, \u201d German Politics<\/i> 30, no. 2 (2021): 149-169; Cremer 2021a.<\/p>\n

9 P. Siegers and A. Jedinger, \u201cReligious immunity to populism: Christian religiosity and public support for the alternative for Germany,\u201d German Politics<\/i> 30, no. 2 (2021): 149\u2013169.<\/p>\n

10 Carney, Alienated America<\/i>, p. 121.<\/p>\n

11 W. Bradford Wilcox et al., \u201cNo Money, No Honey, No Church: The Deinstitutionalization of Religious Life among the White Working Class,\u201d Research in the Sociology of Work<\/i> 23 (2012): 227-250; Carney. <\/p>\n

12 Ryan P. Burge, \u201cSo Why Is Evangelicalism Not Declining? Because Non-Attenders Are Taking On the Label,\u201d Dec. 10, 2020, religioninpublic.blog.<\/p>\n

13 Emily Ekins, \u201cThe Liberalism of the Religious Right: Conservatives Who Attend Church Have More Moderate Views Than Secular Conservatives on Issues Like Race, Immigration, and Identity,\u201d Sept. 19, 2018, Cato.org.<\/p>\n

14 Peter Beinart, \u201cBreaking Faith,\u201d The Atlantic,<\/i> April 2017.<\/p>\n

15 Kai Arzheimer and Elisabeth Carter, \u201cChristian Religiosity and Voting for West European Radical Right Parties,\u201d West European Politics<\/i> 32, no. 5 (2009): 985-1011. <\/p>\n

16 Siegers and Jedinger. <\/p>\n

17 French Institute of Public Opinion (2017). <\/p>\n

18 Samuel Pruvot, Les Candidats \u00e0 confesse<\/i> (Monaco: Editions du Rocher, 2017).<\/p>\n

19 Gregory A. Smith, and Jessica Martinez, \u201cHow the Faithful Voted: A Preliminary 2016 Analysis,\u201d FactTank Newsletter<\/i>, Pew Research Center, Nov. 9, 2016.<\/p>\n

20 Ibid.<\/p>\n

21 Tobias Cremer, \u201cNations under God: How Church\u2013State Relations Shape Christian Responses to Right-Wing Populism in Germany and the United States,\u201d Religions<\/i> 12, no. 4 (2021): 254.<\/p>\n

22 L\u00e9onie de Jonge, \u201cThe Populist Radical Right and the Media in the Benelux: Friend or Foe?\u201d International Journal of Press\/Politics<\/i>, Dec. 29, 2018; Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion<\/i> (New York: Vintage, 2012).<\/p>\n

23 Andreas P\u00fcttmann, \u201cAfD und Kirche: Abgrenzen statt ann\u00e4hern,\u201d Die Zeit<\/i>, May 24, 2016; Cremer 2021b.<\/p>\n

24 Deutsche Bischofskonferenz, \u201cBisch\u00f6fe: AfD nicht mit christlichem Glauben vereinbar,\u201d Deutsche Bischofskonferenz (2016), www.dbk.de.<\/p>\n

25 \u201cBedford-Strohm: AfD-Spitze im \u2018Widerspruch zum christlichen Glauben,\u2019 \u201d (2016), www.Evangelisch.de.<\/p>\n

26 Vincent Geisser, \u201cL\u2019\u00c9glise et les catholiques de France face \u00e0 la question migratoire: le grand malentendu?\u201d Migrations<\/i> Societe<\/i> 3 (2018): 3-13.<\/p>\n

27 Mark Chaves, American Religion: Contemporary Trends<\/i> (Princeton. NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011); David E. Campbell and Robert D. Putnam, \u201cAmerica\u2019s Grace: How a Tolerant Nation Bridges Its Religious Divides,\u201d Political Science Quarterly<\/i> 126, no. 4 (2011): 611-640. <\/p>\n

28 Barna Group, Faith Leadership in a Divided Culture<\/i> (Ventura, CA: Barna, 2019). <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A surprising take on the dynamics between religion and right-wing populism Illustrations by Brad Holland Is religion a fuel for, or a barrier against, the rise of right-wing populist politics in the West? This question is preoccupying faith leaders, politicians, and commentators alike on both sides of the Atlantic as right-wing populists make conspicuous use<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[350],"tags":[182],"class_list":["post-6639","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-november-december-2022","tag-november-december-2022"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6639","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6639"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6639\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6639"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6639"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charming-bohr.160-238-31-172.plesk.page\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6639"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}