And a third book review. This set formed a kind of trilogy. This final volume combined my interest in learning more about Islam with my existing interest in millennialism. I wrote this review in 2009. If anything, I think it has only gotten more topical.
I was lent this book by the same person who lent me Islam and the Jews: The Unfinished Battle and Inside Islam: A Guide for Catholics. Since I have an interest in millennialism generally, I dived straight in. Richardson's work is a prime example of what John Reilly called the 'Standard Model' of Christian millennialism. This is the common-sense, popular, literal model based on direct identification of particular events with the prophecies contained with the Apocalypse of St. John. This model has taken different forms at different times, but in twenty first century America it takes the form of premillennial dispensationalism. This is the frame of reference of the author, who then sets out a detailed comparison between al-Mahdi and Isa bin Maryam and the Antichrist and the False Prophet depicted in the book of Revelations.
The author wrote this book under a pseudonym, out of a rightful fear of retribution. At least in the United States, such things are not yet commonplace, but in Europe, violence or threats of violence against those critical of Islam is commonplace. For example, the makers of the game Little Big Planet recalled the game after it came to light that one of the songs in the game featured verses from the Koran. Given the location of the developer in London, actual violence was a possibility. However, the author is at pains to emphasize that he means no ill will, but simply wishes to tell the truth as best he understands it.
Richardson's account is based largely on the hadith and the commentaries thereon that have been translated into English. This is not a complaint, since this is an admirable amateur effort. Acquiring sufficient linguistic expertise to read Islamic commentaries on the hadith in Arabic is the province of the ivory tower, and such a work would likely have been stillborn within the academic world. That being said, there are strange gaps in Richardson's knowledge that are the likely result of autodidactism. When self-taught, one does not know what one does not know. For example, Richardson seems wholly innocent of Islamic tradition with regards to the people of the book, as opposed to other faiths.
"Interestingly enough, Islamic tradition speaks much of the Mahdi's special calling to convert Christians and Jews to Islam, yet speaks very little specifically of conversions from other faiths. It seems as though converting Christians and Jews to Islam will be the primary evangelistic thrust of the Mahdi." -pg 61
Indeed. Given that the Mahdi's job is to conquer the entire world, there will not be believers of any other faiths except Christians and Jews. Christians and Jews, being people of the Book, get special treatment. One may convert, or one may remain a Christian or Jew and pay the Jizyah. Neglected people of the Book include the Sabians*, who lived in Baghdad and were eventually massacred en toto in the twelfth century. Other faiths only have the option of conversion or death. Thus, by the time the Mahdi has done his work, there will be no Hindus or Buddhists or what-have-you left. Ask the Zoroastrians how that works out.
This book is really good for a ground-eye view of a living millennial belief, worked out in light of objections and the shifting situations in the world. If you want to learn about the terms used in premillennial circles, this book is quite good. This work also has generally good basic info about Islamic millennialism, including the fact that al-Mahdi is not exclusively a Shia figure. However, it would be wise to cross-check the meanings of Arabic words and the preeminence of interpretations with more scholarly works.
I admire the author for including a chapter of likely rebuttals to his work. Chief among these is the popular model has been identifying Antichrists without notable success for two millennia. He is bound and determined to move forward however, because he believes that he sees real parallels. This is actually what is most interesting about the book. Richardson is on the very edges of the premillennial model, and has included material in his book that actually points away from his thesis considered literally. Simply stated, millennial expectations are a completely normal aspect of all human cultures, so we cannot be all that surprised by similarities between different accounts. But there is more to it than that. As St. Augustine put it in Book XX of the City of God, each age is equally close to the Millennium, because each age instantiates the elements of the Last Days. Thus the parallels that Richardson sees are real, but that does not necessarily mean that the events he foresees will therefore be the unique, final end that St. Augustine also believed in. Biblical prophecy exhibits properties analogous to quantum indeterminacy. The more one knows about what is going to happen specifically, the less one knows about when exactly this will take place. (Mark 13) Whereas, the less one tries to apply prophecy to particular events, the more certain you can become that will occur eventually.
A worthy book, and an act of personal bravery on the part of the author. Worth a read if you are interested in millennialism of either Christian or Muslim varieties. Most flaws are probably due to to a lack of editing in volumes of this type.
Another book review that I inadvertently disappeared during site maintenance.
A Guide for Catholics
100 Questions and Answers
By Daniel Ali & Robert Spencer
Ascension Press 2003
179 Pages; US$11.99
As the title notes, this book has an intended audience. This book is apologetic in nature, and as such primarily compares and contrasts Catholic doctrines with Islamic ones. However, that is not to say this book is unusable by non-Catholics. This book is a good, basic introduction to Islam. It covers:
- The Confession of Faith (shahada)
- The Five Pillars of Islam
- The Six Articles of Islamic Faith
- History of Islam
- Differences between Sunni and Shi'a Muslims
- Jizya tax on dhimmis
and many other topics. Pulls no punches whatsoever. Probably not the work to refer to before meeting a new Muslim friend, but very informative. Useful as a quick reference guide. Not a deep or sympathetic investigation of the spiritual practice or theology of Islam.
Another book review that inadvertently disappeared during a site reorganization.
Mark Gabriel is not the author's original name. He has not chosen to reveal his original name, both because of possible repercussions to his family in Egypt, and also because of his definite break with his former life. Gabriel was born in Egypt, had memorized the Qur'an by age twelve, and studied at Al-Azhar University in Cairo. Unfortunately, he expressed a doubt about Islam, and was fired by the university and questioned by the secret police. This started a turn of events that led to Gabriel fleeing Egypt and becoming a Christian. He attempted to make contact with the Coptic Christians of Egypt, but they turned him away for fear that he was a spy. It remains a crime under Shari'a law to seek converts from Islam, so the Copts' fears are understandable. He traveled to South Africa, and from there to America.
The brunt of this book is to explain the anti-Semitism he feels is pervasive in Islam. His personal hatred of Jews began with Egypt's humiliation in the Six Day War, but was fed by the popular anti-Semitic suras in the Qur'an, such as sura 5:60, "those (Jews) who incurred the Curse of Allah and His Wrath, and those of whom (some) He transformed into monkeys and swine."
Lest this seem to be proof-texting, Gabriel devotes a section of the book to Quranic interpretation. It is perfectly true that the Qur'an contains passages praising the Jews as well as condemning them. The keys to understanding the Qur'an are the doctrine of abrogation, and the hadith. Taking the latter first, the hadith are the words and deeds of Muhammad, as passed down by tradition. There are six compilations of these, with al-Bukhari's the most authoritative in the Sunni world. These compilations purport to trace the sayings directly back to Muhammad, from whence they derive their authority. Thus the historical record is particularly important, since it provides the warrant for using the hadith as a guide to daily life. The doctrine of abrogation is the method by which Islamic scholars reconcile apparently contradictory statements in the Qur'an, which being the Word of Allah, is by definition free from error. The method by which this is done is later verses abrogate earlier verses. Thus an early statement praising the Jews, such as sura 2:47, "O Children of Israel! Remember My Favour which I bestowed upon you and I preferred you to the 'Alamin [mankind and djinn (of your time period, in the past)].", is abrogated by a later one, such as sura 5:78 "Those among the Children of Israel who disbelieved were cursed by the tongue of Dawud (David) and Isa(Jesus), son of Maryam (Mary). That was because they disobeyed (Allah and his messengers) and were ever transgressing beyond bounds."
Thus again, history is very important because the temporal sequence of the suras is critical to their interpretation. The suras are organized according to length, so knowing which is earlier and which is later is the object of much study. Gabriel provides background on the early history of Islam to explain why the peaceful verses are considered earlier, and thus abrogated by the later verses of the sword. A pivotal event was the point at which the Jews of Arabia began to mock Muhammad, and he turned on them with vengeance. This history is part of the cultural environment in which Gabriel grew up, and thus he continued to hate Jews even after he became a Christian.
In addition to this historical and theological perspective, this book is one man's personal contrition for hatred, as he explains how he came to shed his anti-Semitism. This casts a personal light on the otherwise grand, impersonal narratives that Gabriel uses to explain the enmity he felt for Jews.
Overall, an interesting book, although occasionally challenging due to the the author's non-native English syntax. This limits the book simply because the author cannot express subtleties well. This book is brutally honest, and as such probably not the best work for dialogue. Should be taken as evidence only of the interpretation of Islam that Gabriel studied at al-Azhar University, but valuable for that.
If I were on the ball, I would have posted this on 9/11.
Part of the reason I foster John's memory is that he perceived the structure of events so acutely. He knew the worst outcome of 9/11 for the United States would be a universal loss of will, rather than any kind of actual military defeat, which no terrorist group has ever been able to do. The United States has many sins to answer for, but the world would likely be a far worse place without us filling the role that we do.
There is a prediction buried in this post that seems like it has come true: security institutions have expanded to fill the gaps exposed by 9/11 and the Global War on Terror. Partly, this is due to an increase in trained personnel who need something to fill their time.
Q: Why was the World Trade Center attacked on September 11, 2001?
A: For glory, in this world and the next. The attackers wish to create an aggressive theocracy in the Persian Gulf. The presence of the United States in the region thwarts that ambition.
Q: Are there contributing factors?
A: The US neglected the region after the Gulf War in order to deal with domestic matters. The US response to attacks on US installations and personnel has been symbolic and ineffective. This was good evidence that the US is unable to retaliate seriously.
Q: Why do the people of the Middle East hate the US enough to do this?
A: They don't. Hate is not the explanation. Brutal acts will be committed when they seem likely to be profitable and to go unpunished. As the decline in domestic crime in the US during the 1990s demonstrated, the search for "root causes" is an evasion.
Q: Is it arrogant for Americans to seek to enlist the whole world in the conflict?
A: The necessary is never arrogant. True arrogance consists in the attitude of some Americans that they are so safe that they need not concern themselves with mere questions of survival, but need focus only on ascertaining their own degree of culpability for the attack.
Q: Is this the end of globalization?
A: In effect, September 11 signifies an attempt to export Middle Eastern political culture to the rest of the world. When commerce expands beyond the range of law enforcement, piracy is the result. September 11 probably initiated a decade-long process of expanding security institutions to cover the global economic system.
Q: Was September 11 the beginning of a war between civilizations?
A: Yes, though the conflict is an asymmetric encounter between states on the one hand and private adventurers on the other. The conflict will continue to be asymmetric, even if states join the adventurers. To put the matter briefly, the West is approaching a phase of unity, while Middle Eastern civilization continues the disintegration that began with the decline of the Ottoman Empire. The conflict will accelerate both processes.
Q: Is this the end of "The end of History"?
A: Not in the sense that Francis Fukuyama meant in his book by that name. The conflict that began on September 11 does not present the question of which ideology will prevail within Western society. Those issues have been settled. The September 11 conflict is just a fight for the survival of Western society.
I loved Star Trek: TNG growing up. Looking back, I can see John's point though. The series really was relentlessly PC, but in a sunnier, happier time when PC hadn't metastasized yet.
John was also correct in noting that despite popular millennial theology to the contrary [for both Christians and Muslims], war in the Middle East is currently unlikely to cause World War III. Peace is in fact possible, since the general unrest in the Middle East is a contemporary invention. Ukraine may be another story.
The Star Trek series spun off several television sagas in later decades, my least favorite of which was Star Trek: The Next Generation. Nonetheless, even that lifeless exercise in political correctness produced a few interesting story ideas, such as the episode about the alien society whose language seemed to consist almost entirely of proper nouns. Eventually, the crew of the Enterprise realize that the aliens' references to persons and places were really concise references to historical incidents. The key to communicating with them was building up some common history to refer to.
The use of historical events as symbols is not novel. That's how the I Ching works, for instance. Often, though, we use dates rather than proper nouns. There was an example of this in the Sunday New York Times of April 14. In an essay entitled "When Savage Passions Set a Trap for the World," R.W. Apple considered the significance of "August 1914" for the current state of things in the Middle East.
There are obvious differences, of course, and Apple does not fail to mention them. The biggest is that there is no Mutual Assured Destruction treaty system connecting Arabs, Israelis, and Iranians to the world's great powers. It was almost the case in Europe in 1914 that a war anywhere on the continent would oblige every major power to fight on one side or the other. The mechanism was not as automatic in practice as it was on paper. Some historians have exaggerated the amount of freedom that the British had about intervening in Belgium, but certainly the British obligations were more diplomatic than legal. The Italians actually reneged on their understanding with Austria and Germany when the time came; they even joined the other side later. Still, a general war was the path of least resistance. One of the powers would have had to adopt a steadfast new policy to prevent it. In the Middle east today, the path of least resistance has the opposite slope. If outside powers really want to pick a fight with each other, they might do it in the Middle East, but only if they abandon their policies of many years' running.
The parallel that Apple does see is that war in the region might be not so much inevitable as irreversible. Particularly if civilian populations become more and more targeted, it will become impossible for the immediate parties to negotiate, even if they have a mind to. The same emotional investment would trap their patrons and make them unable to talk to each other. The result could be not so different from that of the First Battle of the Marne in 1914. Before that point, even after the invasion of Belgium, it might have been possible for the Western powers to negotiate a settlement. A viable settlement might even have been possible had one side won a decisive victory. As things turned out, however, the result was a bloody stalemate for which all parties wanted revenge.
For my part, I hold that the significant analogy between the events of 1914 and those of recent history is the 911 attack, and that the only strong parallel is with the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand. Serbian terrorists of the dreaded Black Hand hoped that a general war would make the Great Powers withdraw from the Balkans, much as Al Qeda hopes with regard to the Middle East today. The Serbian strategy worked, and Yugoslavia was their reward. Al Qaeda is less likely to succeed, but of that more below.
The biggest difference from 1914 is that it is anachronistic to talk about "Great Powers" in the plural. No matter how interested China and the European Union and Russia may be in the Middle East, none of them has the ability to project significant force into the area. The US does not have unlimited military options, either, but it is unique in having some options. (This is the real meaning of hegemony in a demilitarized world: the hegemon is the smart kid in the dumb room.) The notion that the Middle East is the point from which a world war of the Great Powers could start is a fixed feature of the popular imagination. For many quite astute people it is a point of theology. Nonetheless, it is very hard to spin even an improbable scenario that would result in such a conflict. The world has lost the structural prerequisites for a world war.
Readers will note that, in this piece, I have not distinguished the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from the Al Qaeda War, or either of them from the threat of weapons of mass destruction produced by Iran and Iraq. The omission is deliberate, since the distinctions are largely chimerical. Iran subsidizes the terrorist campaign against Israel, Iraq had quite a lot to do with 911, and the Palestinian campaign legitimizes both regimes domestically. The real issue is the fate of Saudi Arabia; the Palestinian question is a carefully maintained diversion.
The long-term solution is obvious enough: regional demilitarization and the limitation of sovereignty. Some foreign policing will be necessary, as will some segregation of populations. As the Ottomans demonstrated for 500 years, peace in the region is possible.
This was John's specialty, and it shows. Twelve years later, these topics are still topical, although they have evolved in interesting ways. Tobacco has become quite the pariah following the capitulation of the tobacco companies, but it isn't done yet. Hipsters insist on smoking even though is it deeply gauche to their betters. Guns are still very much in the news, and now the courts have started to apply strict scrutiny to 2nd Amendment cases. Slavery reparations is the most interesting. This is an idea that will not die. John suspected that slavery reparations could not survive a litigant as combative as the gun manufacturers have been. I think this is likely true, since any attempt to apply slavery reparations using actual legal principles would corrupt everything, including the plaintiff's lawyers. However, there is reason to suspect that slavery reparations are a strategy that still makes sense.
There was an old Monty Python skit, in which supposed "men in the street" were interviewed about their views on taxes. One of them, a staple Monty Python character called Mr. Gumby, says "I think we should tax all people standing in water." Then the camera changes to a wider shot and we see that Mr. Gumby is standing in a stream. He looks down and says "D'oh!" like Homer Simpson himself. This should be the reaction of all thinking people toward the jurisprudential fashion for expanding civil liability to remote defendants based on social evils
You really don't want to live in a world where these suits could succeed. Even as I write, law professors are bringing suits against a number of entities that did business with slaveholders 150 years ago, or against entities whose predecessors in interest did business with slaveholders, or whose predecessors in interest did business with industries that were somehow connected with slaveholding. One does not quite know what to say about claims like these. Some of the people organizing these suits teach at Ivy League universities, some tiny fraction of whose endowments come from slavery-related businesses. Other organizers were educated at those universities, often in buildings constructed in small part with tuition paid by slave-holding families. By the logic of the reparations suits, the houses of the people bringing them could therefore be attached, since the property was purchased in part with funds paid by tainted institutions, or earned through professional skills gained in part at tainted institutions. As Mr. Gumby would say, "D'oh!"
Arguably, the beginning of evils was the relaxed attitude toward property confiscation that legislatures began to adopt as part of the effort against organized crime. (The federal RICO statute may yet engulf the whole universe, but that's another story.) However, things did not get out of hand until the anti-cigarette litigation started to succeed. The problem was not so much the claims by individuals that their wills were overborne by nicotine addiction and tobacco industry propaganda. Such claims required little new law. The big change was when the state and federal governments demanded to be paid by the tobacco companies for health costs associated with smoking.
The logic of those claims is still breathtaking. For one thing, the governments were under no obligation to pay for health costs, so it is hard to see how they could demand compensation for providing a service they undertook voluntarily. For another, smoking probably reduces total health-care costs; it kills people before they can rack up the high medical bills associated with old age. And in fact, courts were not terribly receptive to the arguments from governments for compensation. It is almost certain the claims would have failed, had they been litigated straight through the system. However, the tobacco companies chose not to do that.
It has been a long time since tobacco was the sort of industry that attracted businessmen of the first caliber. Tobacco products, with few exceptions, are insubstantial commodities, compounded of weeds, paper, and advertising. Tobacco companies are cash cows, run by stolid lawyers and MBAs who chose the industry because it was not supposed to require any imagination. Faced with the choice of years of litigation in defense of abstract legal principles or of buying peace with large settlements, they chose the peace. The cows would be a little thinner, perhaps, but at least the executives could be reasonably sure the herd would not be slaughtered.
More recently, dozens of governmental entities across the country brought coordinated suits against gun makers. Allegedly, the manufacturers sold guns knowing that they would be bought by criminals, thus running up the bills of municipalities for law enforcement and emergency medical care. This is a slightly better argument than the one brought against the tobacco companies; police protection is a basic function of government, and anyone who makes it harder arguably should have to pay for it. However, that still leaves the fact that the crimes that are costing all the extra money are not being committed by the gun makers, or with their encouragement.
Gun makers, it seems, are made of sterner stuff than tobacco executives. They have fought the suits tooth and nail, with overwhelming success. The reason they fought is not far to seek. While it is possible to make guns profitably, the business is not the money machine that cigarette making is. Prices of guns cannot be raised arbitrarily. Gun makers simply cannot afford to settle. Also, for better or worse, some people love their guns, including, apparently, the people who make them. Moreover, many people are politically committed to the wide distribution of guns. Ideology, we see, counts for far more than mere nicotine addiction.
In each of the situations where attempts are being made to generalize liability, there is a class of people with motives that are more or less pure. Tobacco-haters are at least as ideologically committed as gun-lovers; it was their luck to link with tort lawyers at the right point in history. The anti-gun litigation is more political. It looks well for a city government to issue press releases announcing these suits. So far, they have done little harm, though in the long run they will probably cost the cities that bring them some money. The saddest case of all is the reparations movement, which reflects the decay of venerable civil rights organizations into protection rackets. Those organizations are themselves much more vulnerable than any of the entities they are pursuing. They will not survive this project, if they encounter defendants as combative as the gun makers.
Before anyone attempts some daring new use of the tort system, there is this point to consider: the legal system exists to keep the peace. We don't have tort suits to enforce people's rights or to vindicate justice, though one goal of government is to try to make the courts do those things. We have courts so that private parties will not settle their disputes with gunfire. When the interests of the whole of society are involved, and people have strong opinions on both sides of a question, the matter is best left to politics.
Some of John's central ideas about the Papacy are contained herein. The 18th and 19th centuries were a time of rampant nationalism in Europe, and the Pope was the head of the last institution that could effectively resist the nation-state. As the latter half of the nineteenth century built to a revolutionary crescendo that would reach its culmination in the Great War, Pius IX and Leo XIII filled this unlooked for role in their own characteristic ways.
The Clash of Religion and Politics in Europe from the
French Revolution to the Great War
By Michael Burleigh
HarperCollins Publishers 2005 Harper Perennial 2007
529 Pages, US$16.95
The conventional narrative of the intellectual history of the modern West is that the 18th-century pioneers of European thought were won over to an agnostic version of the Enlightenment, which then spread throughout the 19th century to all levels of society. Religion was replaced by science and ideology. State-supported ecclesiastical institutions were replaced by secular ones, especially in the areas of education and social services. The result, in the 20th century, was a largely secular world, in which religious sentiment was residual. The politics of the Enlightenment in power was conducted according to what moderns imagined (however catastrophically) to be the dictates of reason.
This very entertaining book by Michael Burleigh, a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society who has written extensively on the intellectual origins of Nazism, does not quite do an "everything you know is a lie" reversal of this story. He does argue that the progress of secularism has by no means moved only in one direction. The eclipse of traditional religious life, where that has occurred, has rarely been followed by a flowering of scientific rationalism. Rather, it has been a segue to "political religion," in the form either of Christianity reinterpreted in a nationalist sense or of politics invested with ultimate meaning.
The book takes the story from, roughly, the French Revolution to the First World War. (A second volume, Sacred Causes, covers the 20th century and later.) The tale of "political religion" in Earthly Powers follows the familiar inflections of 19th-century history: post-Napoleonic reaction; the spread of liberal nationalism; the revolutions of 1848, the appearance of the social-revolutionary Left; and on through the darkening of the European political horizon following the Franco-Prussian War. By this account, the spiritual history of the West was worked out in the interconnected but distinct systems of France, Germany and Britain (there is also some attention to the peculiar cases of Russia and Poland). The author does not attempt a detailed treatment of religion in the United States, but America comes into the story nonetheless, largely through the vibrant enterprise of transatlantic anglophone evangelicalism, but also in part through the influence of American Catholicism on the Vatican. The Catholic Church, in fact, is among the few links common to all these stories, to some extent even with increasingly mad Russia. It has been said (though not by the author) that the template for all claims of political liberty in the West was the defiance by the popes in the 11th century of the Holy Roman Empire in the Investiture Controversy. In this reviewer's opinion, at least, one could recast the history in Earthly Powers as the story of how the somnolent, post-baroque papacy was again dragged, kicking and screaming, into the role of chief defender of the human spirit against the pretensions of politics.
* * *
By the end of the 18th century, the decentralizing facet of the Reformation had succeeded everywhere. Except for a few sects and revivalist movements, the institutional face of Christianity was the national church. Such institutions supported the monarch (in a few cases, the republic commonwealth) and preached social doctrines as little disruptive as possible of a presumably perennial status quo. The supranational character of Christianity was preserved in theory in Catholic ecclesiology, but in practice the universal Roman church was divided among dioceses subservient to the national monarchies. Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II was in fact a great reformer when he was not urging Mozart to use fewer notes. He nationalized the property of monasteries that did not provide medical or educational services, and generally turned the Catholic Church in his wide domains into a branch of the civil service. In France, the already ancient tradition of "Gallican" semi-independence simply intensified during this period. At ground level, French priests were men of some education, as had also been the case in the Church of England since Stuart times. They often viewed themselves as civilizing agents in the profounder parts of France Profound. The higher clergy, again in France as in England, for the most part viewed Christianity benignly, but ordinarily their attention was elsewhere.
The papacy on the eve of modernity was the executive of a rather derelict central Italian principality. Its ancient religious dignities did little to raise its modest diplomatic profile. The Habsburgs had a right to veto uncongenial candidates to the Throne of Saint Peter (a right they kept until the beginning of the 20th century). The pope's encyclicals could not be published in France without the royal permission. Everywhere the appointment of bishops was largely within the control of secular governments. Generally, the pope's ability to sway political events, and even the development of doctrine, was approaching the nadir of a centuries-long decline. The one Catholic institution that had revived something of the universal profile of the High Medieval church, the Society of Jesus, was (temporarily) suppressed by the popes themselves in 1773, largely in response to complaints from the Spanish and Portuguese governments about Jesuit interference with Iberian mistreatment of the South American Indians.
More broadly, long before the French Revolution, it was plain that the political actor in European civilization for the next few generations would be the nation state. The irony was that the royal dynasties had at first imagined they would benefit from this. In fact, the "throne" part of the ancient alliance of throne-and-altar tended to dissolve into popular nationalism. "Secularization" in the 19th century usually meant the search of the religion part for a new partner.
France was unusual in that it sometimes went beyond secularization to attempt "laicization," a conscious and ideologically motivated effort to drive religion from public life. Famously, an episode of the French Revolution was the only time until the Bolshevik Revolution in which a European government tried to extirpate Christianity itself. However, the author makes the novel point that the buildup to that enterprise was motivated part by the lingering effects of Jansenism, a school of thought within Catholicism with a Calvinist take on predestination. For the purposes of this story, its chief peculiarity was to make God as implacable as physics but not as easy to understand. It was rigorist and puritanical in morals and disparaging of the hierarchy, but tinged with pentecostalism and even millenarianism. Jansenism was eventually declared a heresy, but any doctrine that could win the allegiance of minds on the order of Blaise Pascal was going to have some lingering effects. It persisted in the growing intellectual opposition to the old regime, where it made common cause with freemasonry. The constellation of opposition ideas was still more influenced by Rousseau's surmise that society cannot do without religion, but that society was (or should be) national rather than universal, and that the best religion was therefore a national religion.
The brief attempt to create a Deist "Republic of Virtue" in France discredited the idea of manufacturing a post-Christian national cult. If there was going to be a religion of France, it would have to be some form of Catholicism; from that principle, later French republicans drew the conclusion that there should be no religion, except as a most private matter. In Germany, however, Rousseau's endorsement of a national religion fused with the Lutheran tradition of the state church. It acquired real force from the early Romantic version of German nationalism. German Romanticism endorsed a universal ethic, but held that this must everywhere be incarnated in a colorful variety of national traditions. This was a key element of German liberal Protestantism. That strand of Protestantism was also keen on keeping up with the latest developments in philology (hence, in fact, the "Higher Criticism" of the Bible). It was also amenable to a Hegelian view of progress. History tended to be seen as the clarification of national Ideas.
In France and Germany and Britain, the churches after the Revolution experimented with support for the powers that be, when those powers were amenable to accepting their support, or forming adventurous alliances with the growing middle class, or with the new industrial working class, or both. These efforts had an audience: the respectable classes had drawn the conclusion that traditional religion was an invaluable bulwark against chaos. Except sometimes in France, the new appeal of religion was not that of pure reaction. There were movements in all the churches to reinterpret the Christian mission as in part a social gospel. Christian trade unions and workers' benevolent associations sprang up, with varying degrees of success.
Although everywhere thought was given to the evangelization of industrial workers, these efforts probably went furthest in Britain. The country was already in the midst of a Nonconformist and Dissenter popular revival when the period covered by this book began. The revival from the beginning had emphasized sobriety of life and improved public order. It soon fed into the reformist schemes of the new, market-friendly Liberalism, and later into campaigns for the betterment of the working class. After a period of confused distaste, the Church of England joined in. Indeed, the Anglican Establishment became a serious (though of course not vulgarly enthusiastic) student of the new social questions. The church developed a vital and imaginative evangelical wing. As the author points out, citing from the works of acute Victorian observers, it was never clear just how effective all this effort really was in reaching the genuinely immiserated industrial workers. However, it did lend a Christian tinge to English socialism that distinguished it from most of its European counterparts well into the 20th century.
In France the Church after 1848 tarnished what had been an improving image by lending its support, and tying its fortunes, to the venal and fundamentally unserious regime of the Second Empire. Since the Napoleonic settlement, the Church had been willing enough to accept the delegation from the state of responsibility for most education at the lower levels. (A point bewildering to an American reader: when the churches throughout this story complained of state oppression, they were often complaining in part about cuts in education subsidies paid from tax revenues, and even cuts in clerical salaries paid by the state. Similarly, when the churches sometimes declared against the separation of church and state, what they often meant in context were state programs to expropriate church-built schools, hospitals, and houses of worship.) Be that as it may, the education the French church provided was believed to have been found wanting in 1871, when Prussia defeated France. The Church absorbed much of the blame under the ensuing Third Republic. It did not help matters that the French Church had developed a reactionary monarchist streak that made it difficult for the Church to cooperate with republican France. Nonetheless, the Third Republic would, at first, take the church's grudging "yes" for an answer on the question of basic loyalty. However, the situation became more tense the more corrupt the Third Republic itself became. There came a point when the state seemed unwilling to tolerate even private religious schools, and shut down religious orders that manifestly were valuable public resources. Bishops could not be appointed without government approval, and the government was not approving.
The Dreyfus Affair may have extended the life of the Third Republic beyond its deserts, we are told: the catastrophic decision of conservative Catholic groups to support the fraud that sent Dreyfus to Devil's Island ensured that, when the fraud was exposed, there seemed to be no alternative to the incompetent laicist regime and its Mason-ridden army. (Yes, there are Masonic networks of influence, and in French history they have rarely made things better.)
The history of religion in Germany was divided along two parallel tracks: the project of liberal Protestantism to continue modernizing itself in order to stay relevant, and the effort by the ever more victorious Kingdom of Prussia to make the Catholic Church as irrelevant as possible. The German churches attempted to reach out to the new urban industrial society, but with perhaps more success on the Catholic side than on the Protestant. However, the liberal synthesis of the Higher Criticism and a theodicy of nationalism did find some favor in the new imperial government. Perhaps inverting the root meaning of "liberal," this synthesis in practice became a willingness to consecrate any political tendency that seemed historically successful. This willingness would have sorry consequences for German Protestantism in the 20th century.
Regarding the Catholic Church, the new German nationalism tended to share the French laicist view of 1871: the Church was responsible for weakening France. The Prussian victory of that year was celebrated in part as a victory of progressive Protestantism over Catholic obscurantism. In the famous Kulturkampf, Bismarck's government attempted to ensure that the first loyalty of all Germans would be to the empire rather than to a foreign religion. That was easier to do in Prussia than in the new empire as a whole, but Prussia was the bulk of the empire. Wherever possible, the state attempted to take control of Catholic institutions and civil associations, or to close those that could not be controlled. Priests and bishops went to jail. However, as the author points out, in this relatively civilized time religious repression was a matter for the courts and (often unenthusiastic) police, not for firing squads and concentration camps.
Returning to the resurrection of the papacy, we note again that it was forced into a new role by virtue of the kind of institution it was: the last transnational authority in the whole of the West. Governments, including sometimes traditionally Catholic governments, were making wider and wider claims to govern the souls and expropriate the stuff of their subjects. The subjects needed someone to appeal to over the heads of their governments, and the pope was elected. Even so, it took two generations for the popes to get a clue about what they should be doing. The Church had never had a particular animus against democracy or republicanism as political forms; the papacy in particular had never been happy with absolute monarchy. Still, the Holy Roman Empire had been shut down during the Revolutionary-Napoleonic emergency, and the same had very nearly happened to the Catholic Church. The papacy was stunned into prolonged political reaction. Despite warnings from Catholic reformers that the company of kings could be lethal, popes who could be induced to comment on social questions continued to say that they saw no reason why the world could not continue to be run by squires and parsons, with the Church receiving due support from its royal overlords.
In the second half of the 19th century, the popes lost control of the papal states to the House of Savoy. The temporal authority of the popes became confined to the diplomatic fiction of Vatican City. Nonetheless, in some ways this revolutionary era was the most stable in the history of the Church: there were just two papacies, those of Pius IX (1846 to 1878) and Leo XIII (1878 to 1903), during the whole period. It is common to contrast these as the Bad Reactionary Pope and the Good Liberal Pope, but the author makes clear that the story was more complicated than that.
Pius IX (Pio Nono, to his friends and detractors) was quick and generous with anathemas. As he grew older, his list of things to dislike about the modern world grew ever longer. The list grew to include most of the world's monarchs (Pius had been so ill-advised as to rely on Napoleon III as his principal secular patron). Nonetheless, though he notoriously declared it a heresy to hold that the Holy Father must conform himself to progress, he also noted in the same Syllabus of Errors that it is anathema to hold the state to be the source and definer of political rights. For that matter, even his opposition to the formation of the Kingdom of Italy had a sort of grumpy integrity. The new kingdom, based in the north of the country, was much unloved, and contemporaries as well as historians have noted that the extension of its dominions to the south of Italy had something of a colonial character.
Conversely, it is clear that Leo XIII was the pope who finally got the memo about the real merits and demerits of the modern world. His encyclicals make clear the compatibility, if not the necessity, of democratic political institutions with Catholic doctrine. He held up church-state relations in the United States as a model to the French. His social encyclicals also cast doubt on the adequacy of liberal economics, in the 19th-century sense of "liberal": any economic system existed for the benefit of the people who lived under it, so that a purely laissez faire system that tolerated persistent mass destitution was a violation of natural rights. Still, even sunny Leo XIII did not quite grasp the full implications of his own ideas. He ended the Kulturkampf with Bismarck by diplomacy, to the great annoyance of the Catholic parties in Germany; they had been conducting a brave and not whole unsuccessful resistance by democratic means. He attempted the same with the Third Republic, with less success. He may have succeeded only in alienating the Catholic establishment there, which of course considered itself much more Catholic than any pope.
All these threads, including the bizarre decline of Russia from Orthodox revival to liberation theology to nihilism, were only prologue to the operatically apocalyptic climax of the First World War. In France, oddly enough, the war brought a kind of cultural peace. Many French Catholics might loathe the Third Republic, but they loved France. Religious people and institutions gave an account of themselves in the war that softened the antagonism of Left and Right. In Germany and England, the religious establishments embraced the causes of their respective regimes with great eagerness. This enthusiasm in part took the form of social work for the troops and medical care for the wounded, much of it under fire; this won the churches great credit, at the time and since. However, the churches identified the will of God with the political projects of their states. On both sides, religion therefore suffered in the disillusion that followed the war.
Again, the position of the papacy was most interesting. Benedict XV had had the misfortune to be elected in September 1914. From the first, he tried to negotiate a peace based on the status quo ante, or at least as ante as he could get. Eventually, he wound up referring peace feelers to President Wilson, whose views on ending the war were not at first very different. Meanwhile, he tried to keep Italy out of the war because (a) Italy would probably lose, creating a revolutionary situation in the aftermath, or (b) the slithersome House of Savoy would be in the winning coalition, thereby complicating future negotiations about the regularization of the status of the Vatican. These were acute surmises.
Again, the author has written a second volume that takes the story of the relationship of religion and politics in the West through the 20th century. Eventually, a third volume will have to be written, to bring the story to a close with the end of modernity in the 21st.