s the
reign of Pope Benedict XVI begins the world looks for
indications of his intentions and policies. He has already
reached out in a small way to Muslims, Jews, and even
unbelievers. But the new pontiff has also expressed his
desire to re-affirm the “Christian roots” of Europe and
build a more doctrinally unified Catholic Church. His
concerns mirror those of many conservative and
fundamentalist religious leaders of all faiths and “In
Pursuit of Peace,” an article that appeared in 2004 when the
Pope was still Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger,
provides an exceptional insight into this general worldview.
Taking his ideas seriously is particularly necessary at a
time of religious upsurge in the United States and many
parts of the world. That is the rationale for this critical
commentary.
“In Pursuit
of Peace” begins with the Pontiff’s reflections on D-Day and
the subsequent liberation of Europe from the Nazis. What
resulted was an unparalleled period of peace and prosperity
whose framers, somewhat arbitrarily chosen, are seen by him
as deriving their political motivations from their Christian
beliefs. With the help of the Marshall Plan, and the
military backing of the United States, Western Europe
squared off against the Communist bloc. Pope Benedict XVI is
right when he notes that the lie born of “ideological
tyranny” predominated under the Communists as surely as it
had predominated under the Nazis. Nevertheless, the world
looks different depending upon the side of the North/South
divide that one is standing.
Leaders of
all the “great powers” who built the postwar compact were
complicit, some perhaps more and others perhaps less than
their predecessors and successors, in shaping the nightmare
of poverty and instability that still hovers over the once
colonized world. Even the greatest figures of the struggle
against totalitarianism – Churchill, Roosevelt, and Truman –
had supported crass imperialist exploits, compromised with
tyrants, and justified the creation or use of nuclear
weapons. None have the same aura in India, Latin America,
and Asia that they have in the West: it is instructive that,
-- with the agreement of Roosevelt -- Churchill specifically
exempted British colonial possessions from the principles of
the Atlantic Charter.
Pope
Benedict XVI views the problems of the non-western world as
deriving from its inability to maintain the rule of law,
which would enable different groups to live together, and
its mixture of cynical interests with various forms of
misusing, or abusing, “faith” that inhibit the exercise of
conscience. Recourse to the terror unleashed on the 11thof
September 2001 is a logical consequence and, according to
the Pontiff, its devastating potential has grown worse since
biological and nuclear weapons no longer are the preserve of
western nations alone. But that the Pope chose not to
mention the devastating impact of imperialism or the bombing
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki seems a terrible omission. His
Holiness also evidences little sense of the bitter irony
generated by the United States lecturing the once colonized
world about the dangers of nuclear proliferation while
leading all other nations in the sale of weapons and
reserving for itself alone the right to engage in a
“pre-emptive strike” whenever its leaders feel the necessity
exists to do so.
Ultimately,
however, it is not the “clash of civilizations” between the
West and Islam that is the Pontiff’s primary focus. It is
instead the growing “pathological” embrace of either
“reason” or “religion,” and the need to restore a proper
balance between the two: more secular reason in the Orient
and more religious faith in the Occident. On first blush,
therefore, his article exhibits a reasonableness that is
difficult to deny. What results, however, is an abstract
stance that considers the existence of too much fanaticism
and repression as essentially equivalent with the existence
of too much tolerance and freedom. The fear of the Pontiff
is that in the West the “good” is becoming subordinated to
the “useful” and that the more truth becomes identified with
objectivity, and the testability of scientific claims, the
more morality and religion will turn into matters of purely
“subjective” belief or opinion. Such is the legacy of
scientific rationality or, better, a form of uncritical
positivism that has often been conflated with Enlightenment
philosophy. Thus, while His Holiness does not explicitly use
the term, he sees “enlightenment fundamentalism” as the
principal danger to western societies.
The argument
of the Pope shows an impressive debt to the thinking of
contrasting philosophers like Martin Heidegger and Max
Horkheimer. No less than they, however, the Pontiff forgets
the way in which the unfettered ability of science to
question authority was historically intertwined with the
emergence of political democracy. No less than they, he is
also mistaken in suggesting that (neo-) positivism, which
now teaches the importance of falsifiability, implies merely
the rule of the majority (Mehrheitsprinzip) rather
than – precisely because truth is deemed provisional – the
rights of the minority to contest received opinions. For
just this reason, most major positivist philosophers were
political liberals while the attack on positivism became a
telling characteristic of all totalitarian regimes.
Also, in the same vein, it is interesting that the
nineteenth century socialist parties formally identified
with a “positivistic,” “deterministic,” and “scientific”
Marxism should have produced the first mass democratic
organizations in Europe, the most enthusiastic supporters of
the interwar republics, and the most principled opponents of
communist and fascist totalitarianism.
There is, by
the same token, something profoundly exaggerated about the
claim that “Christian belief” produced the worldly states
wherein all could live in peace: the ghetto was not exactly
a Jewish invention and “the white man’s burden,” which
promoted Christian missionary activity, did not exactly help
foster peace in Africa. The Church opposed the democratic
revolutions and consistently sought to block republican
attempts to integrate Jews and Muslims into the everyday
life of European civil society. What makes the preamble
about D-Day so relevant to the actual purpose of the Pope’s
article is, ironically, that the Church only made peace with
democracy and the civil rights of non-Christians -- to the
extent that it has -- after the Second World War. Whether
during the Dreyfus Affair, the rise of Mussolini, the Weimar
Republic, the Spanish Civil War, the triumph of Hitler, or
the fall of Salvador Allende, its lot was mostly cast with
the authoritarian right. That was also mostly the case in
Latin America and other colonial territories though those
identified with “liberation theology,” which the Pontiff has
always criticized, put forth a valiant resistance against
authoritarian dictators and their imperialist allies. To be
sure, the Church played an important role in the struggle
against communist totalitarianism and Pope John Paul II
stood tall in his condemnation of the Iraqi War. But the
dominant right wing and anti-secular legacy of the Church is
not easily forgotten.
Secularism
is a complex phenomenon that, ultimately, speaks to the
possibility of understanding human development without
reference to God or some force external to humanity itself.
This project fundamentally contests the thinking of the
faithful and it crystallized during the Enlightenment.
Science explored the internal workings of nature and human
experimentation produced technology. New theories of
neo-classical economics and, ultimately, the labor theory of
value showed how wealth is generated through human effort
while liberal social contract theory highlighted the
rational individual, civil liberties, the right of
resistance, and the accountability of public institutions.
All of this, in concert, led to what Max Weber termed “the
disenchantment of the world.” The difficulty for critics of
secularism is to articulate a corrective to the existing
production process, a meaningful alternative to liberal
notions of freedom and accountability, or anything other
than what Ernst Cassirer termed “mytho-poetic” thinking to
counter the claims and rationality of science.
Secular
liberalism always threatened the absolute claims of
religious institutions and the provincial disposition
generated by organic societies with pre-modern economic
arrangements. And religious institutions always knew it. The
liberal secular state and liberal secular ideology
together serve freedom by allowing people to make up
their minds on the issues of faith and religious observance.
The suggestion of Pope Benedict XVI that the liberal state
should be recognized as a secular institution even while
liberal secularism should be opposed as an ideology simply
dissociates power from legitimacy. It begs concrete
questions: Should the church act as a controlling mechanism
on the liberal state or should the strictures of the liberal
state be privileged in political matters? Has the Church
ever been willing to regulate itself, without external
pressure, on issues like child abuse? Should rabbinical
tribunals decide who is a citizen of Israel? Is it
legitimate for an Ayatollah to issue a fatwa that
contravenes the rule of law? Is the religious belief in
democracy real or is it real only when the interests of the
Church or Synagogue or Mosque are not involved?
Breaking
with any sort of dogma is impossible without distinguishing
between “faith” and “knowledge.” Every attempt to blend
reason and faith or offer “fundamental” or grounding values
through some form of “civic religion”-- even when God was
placed at the center -- resulted in authoritarian disaster.
The point about “grounding,” “foundational,” or
“pre-political” values is precisely that they are
pre-political. They remain unconnected with rights or
liberties precisely because rights and liberties receive
their definition only in political society. The Bible, the
Koran, or any number of other holy texts from other
religions alone can serve as the source of “grounding” and
“pre-political” values. But the possible interpretations of
these texts are infinite in number precisely because they
all speak to religiosity or the personal experience of
faith. How is one interpretation to be privileged over
another?
Other than
respect for the basic values underpinning the liberal
political order, moreover, it would also seem that
“foundational values” are not quite as self-evident as the
Pope would care to believe. Women, gays, and those of other
religions will surely differ with regard to their character
and, with all due respect, not everyone would even agree
that the death of Jesus embodies the “highest expression” of
love. The Church itself caused rivers of blood to flow
during the Crusades, the witch burnings, the inquisitions,
the pogroms, and endless internecine wars, in a host of
failed attempts to ascertain what is “basic” to its own
faith. Every interpretation of any holy text has the
possibility of taking on absolute pretensions once the
private “faith” informing it is identified with the
public interests of any religious institution intent
upon “secular” power. That is why only the respectful
indifference of the secular democratic state to
religious values and the like – what the Pontiff terms a
“reason fallen ill” – can provide the antidote to the “abuse
of religion.”
The will to
know – about stem cell research, about genomes, about DNA,
and about the atom – may not guarantee the ability to make
proper use of that knowledge. But that it illuminates how
the world and the human being are “made” need not inevitably
lead to destruction. New scientific developments can also
improve the mental and physical health, the quality of life,
enjoyed by people everywhere. The same warnings that are now
heard with respect to stem cell research and genomes and DNA
could also be heard when Galileo, Ben Franklin, and Einstein
introduced their discoveries. Fearful stalwarts of the old
regime have always warned against tampering with “nature”
and interfering with the design of God. But what then is the
alternative? Should “we” or, better, some institution
arbitrarily prevent that knowledge from coming about?
Democracy
has never had anything to fear from reason or
experimentation. The most durable democratic societies were
created by nations that most self-consciously divided church
from state and that refused to identify any private belief
with the public good. Nations like England and the United
States retained their moral “compass” in spite of their
strong affinity for empiricism, positivism, and pragmatism.
Their political arrangements left morality and faith in the
province of the subject. That is the despair of Pope
Benedict XVI who wants religion to be more than a kind of
“subjective ornament providing a possibly useful kind of
motivation.”
But the fact
is that morality and faith must be treated this way
in a genuinely liberal and democratic political order. That
is because it must prize behavior more than belief and
insist, building upon John Locke, that the individual is
free to do what the law of the state does not explicitly
prohibit. If the Pope believes that Enlightenment political
thought leads to anarchy then he is seriously mistaken.
Postmodernists have been so critical of the enlightenment
legacy, in fact, precisely because its partisans
differentiated clearly between freedom and license. The
Enlightenment was ultimately directed against religious
fanatics and what today would be considered the
arbitrary exercise of institutional power. The majority of
the philosophes were never concerned with abolishing
religion. They were instead concerned with securing the
right of each not merely to believe, or not, in his or her
own way, but to decide upon what is worthy of belief
in his or her private existence without having that belief
turned into an imperative for the public at large.
What then
becomes of the common good? The multiplication of individual
interests, experiences, and opinions is the common good. Or,
to put it another way, the common good is the enlargement of
freedom and the possibilities for expanding individual
experience. Freedom is not a word that has much currency in
the Pontiff’s article. But it remains decisive: “moral
reason” is an oxymoron if it does not speak to a conviction
in freedom whose “foundational values” include respect for
the liberal rule of law, an elementary sense of fairness,
the accountability of institutions, and the extension of
reciprocal rights and obligations equally to all members of
the community. Not some abstract “grounding” but freedom is
the foundation for human self-understanding. That is
essentially what the best of the philosophes sought
in political terms. Enlightenment fundamentalism, if there
is such a thing, is ultimately predicated not on scientific
truth but on privileging individual autonomy and the
critical exercise of reason over the claims of
unyielding traditions and unaccountable institutions.
Reducing
people to things can be undertaken by a variety of
institutions and justified by a variety of religions and
ideologies. Perhaps a complementary learning process is
necessary for the partisans of knowledge as well as the
partisans of faith. But if such an encounter were to take
place then its goal can only be to confront the chains that
bind. It must begin by assuming the need for not less but
more freedom: more education, more research, more
information, more participation, and more accountability of
institutions. The real clash is not between “civilizations,”
or what has been termed the “West and the rest,” but between
supporters of a secular liberal state with a pluralistic
public realm and others intent upon imposing their religious
convictions on disbelievers.
Faith, myth,
and dogma lie at the core of servitude and authoritarianism.
Critique, science, and tolerance – by contrast -- incarnate
what little hope that there is for the hopeless. Not
religion but reason, moreover, is on the ropes. The idea
that “reason” is somehow the problem today for
western societies is simply to blame the victim. In this
world of managed misinformation, communitarian backlash,
religious fanaticism, and self-righteous ignorance, it is
perhaps useful for all of us – including the Pontiff and his
followers– to consider the anguished words of his
countryman, Thomas Mann, which echo from an even darker
time: “As if there was ever too much intellect in the
world!”
Stephen Eric Bronner is Professor of
Political Science at Rutgers University. The author of
Reclaiming the Enlightenment (Columbia,) and the
forthcoming Blood in the Sand: Imperial Fantasies,
Rightwing Ambitions and the Erosion of Democracy
(Kentucky), he is the Senior Editor of Logos.