Catholic Action and Ralliement

by Edmund Waldstein, O. Cist.


In a recent postPetrus Hispanus criticized what he called the “strategy” of Catholic Action, as a form of Catholic political and social engagement  that concedes too much to liberal institutions, and is thus quasi inevitably corrupted by their spirit. Gabriel Sanchez responded at Opus Publicum, arguing that Catholic Action is a core principle of the Church’s social magisterium, and that it is nothing other than social action of Catholics aimed at restoring the sovereignty of Christ in social life. Hispanus then responded to Sanchez, doubling down on his condemnation of Catholic Action. He argues that it was a strategy of using liberal institutions against liberalism, favored by some popes for prudential reasons, but that Catholic’s are not bound to find those reasons actually prudent, and that the results have indeed shown them to be imprudent. The debate is somewhat confused by equivocation on the term “Catholic Action,” but it nevertheless raises an important question. The question could be re-formulated as a question about Pope Leo XIII policy of ralliement— encouraging French Catholics to abandon loyalty to the Ancien Régime, and take part in republican politics, in order to Christianize the Republic. Was ralliement a prudent strategy? There is no agreement about the answer to this question among serious proponents of Catholic Social Teaching, and yet the answer must have far-reaching consequences. I think that both Hispanus and Sanchez would fall on the side of those who argue that it was not prudent, and to some extent I am inclined to agree with them. Continue reading “Catholic Action and Ralliement”

Response to Sanchez on Catholic Action

by Petrus Hispanus


At Opus Publicum, the always suggestive Gabriel Sánchez has posted a brief critique of my own brief reply to E. M. Milco’s essays on liberalism (here and here). Sánchez claims I have proposed a “deviation” from the principles of Catholic Action, and even that I have fundamentally misunderstood traditionalism by placing it in opposition to Catholic Action rather than seeing it as its continuation. He ends by suggesting concrete steps we may take in our daily lives in order to bring about the kingdom of Christ on earth, and which I cannot but wholeheartedly endorse.

From a purely historical point of view, however, it is worthwhile to note that Sánchez’s account of the relationship between traditionalism and Catholic Action is at least incomplete. Not all Catholic traditionalist movements espoused the strategy of Catholic Action. The clearest example is Carlism, possibly the most politically efficacious and doctrinally articulate of these movements in the 19th and 20th centuries. This is not to say Carlism rejected the ends for which Catholic Action was created—inasmuch as they were the same ends of traditional Catholic political thought, they differed in nothing. Rather, Carlism rejected the strategic assumptions Catholic Action was based upon, assumptions which, for better or worse, meant transforming traditional Catholic politics into just another political party attempting to win it out in the game of liberal democracy. It is enough to read Juan Vázquez de Mella’s forceful critique of the liberal idea of a political party (e.g. here, pp. 275-282), or Fr. Félix Sardá y Salvani’s Liberalism Is a Sin, to see the Carlist rejection of this strategy, based mostly on the reasons suggested by Milco and which I attempted to re-elaborate in my reply to him. 

Leo XIII and St. Pius X favored the strategy of Catholic Action because they came to believe, as a matter of strategy, that still-dominant Catholic majorities in many countries could be rallied under a single party in order to use democracy as a weapon against liberalism. The faithful majorities, it was hoped, would vote liberalism out of existence under the leadership of Catholic Action parties. From this miscalculation, possibly brought on by the success of German Catholics against Bismarck, would ultimately come that spectacle of progressive alignment of Catholic politicians with liberalism that was “Christian democracy.”

All of this, of course, is not to impugn on the many excellent things done by Catholic Action in many countries, or to judge the motives these saintly and venerable Popes had in favoring it. Indeed, under the circumstances they faced, it is difficult to imagine what alternative they had in most cases, seeing as the political links with the ancien régime had almost entirely vanished and a new way of “doing Catholic politics” needed to be implemented seriously, one to which the example of Germany and others gave true practical plausibility.  

In my brief piece, I wished to suggest that the reasons this strategy failed are similar to those articulated by Milco in his two essays. By reducing all political positions to a plane of procedural neutrality, where they are all forced to play by the same aseptic rules, liberalism tends inevitably to relativize the public significance (and even intelligibility) of those positions, finally leaving the principles those rules embody (fairness, tolerance, etc.) as the only acceptable political creed. There is no reason to believe Catholic political thought and action are not subject to the same rule of liberal self-radicalization, and indeed the story not only of Catholic Action, but of all forms of Christian democracy, amply bear this out.

The fact is that as a political strategy to save Christian civilization, the well-meaning attempt that was Catholic Action did not manage to recognize the threat involved in buying into the praxis of liberalism, even when done with a clear rejection of its theory. Obviously, this danger is much graver when the attempt does not even involve a clear rejection of the theory of liberalism, as has happened in the post-Vatican II Church, but the point is that the reason why both these strategies fail is the same: they subject Catholic politics and life to the pernicious liberal praxis, and in so far as they do, they manifest only the continuation and radicalization of the same error.

In his critique of my brief note, Sánchez seems to commit a bit of the same miscalculation. The political principles of traditionalism are one thing, another, the particular political strategy Catholic Action and Vatican II used to attain them. I admit the use of the term “neo-Catholic” in reference to both may have been misleading, because the Vatican II mistake is not only practical, but theoretical, but inasmuch as they both espouse the practical delusion that traditionalism can defeat liberalism from within, their failures may be analyzed together. 

The Primary Political Question: A Response to Milco on Liberalism

by Petrus Hispanus


The two essays recently published here by E. M. Milco—one on liberalism in government and one on liberalism in education—are both excellent. I think they are good prolegomena for posing the biggest political question of them all, about the relation between truth and politics (Strauss’s “natural right and history” obsession). Milco hints at this question in both posts when he talks about how Humean balancing tecnhiques are good (as far as they go) and how it’s good for us to understand and be conversant with the many divergent intellectual systems out there. Granting both of these claims (and I do, more or less), the question remains: How must a Catholic traditionalist (or, if you want to refer to him with the aseptic terminology of liberalism: a person making truth-claims) face liberalism?

It seems that the neo-Catholic strategy (that is, the “Catholic Action” and “Vatican II” strategy) of attempting to duke it out in the liberal marketplace of ideas, relying on liberalism’s principles of procedural fairness to ensure we have a place at the table, is proving to be a failure. (The only difference between Catholic Action and the Vatican II strategy is that the former is based on the creation of an official Catholic face in practical politics, while the latter is based on the more difficult idea of Catholic laity soaking the social structure with Christian values from within. All of this, however, accepting the liberal procedural principles as a fair playing ground.)

I think Milco is right: there is a self-radicalizing principle in liberalism that explains why and how these strategies are doomed to fail. The procedural principles liberal strategies are based on, being the only common ground, the only language anyone can use in public, quickly become the only acceptable creed. I think this is evident, though it hasn’t stopped many good and knowledgeable Catholics from thinking that a kind of even more covert strategy is the way to go, one that is still based on the delusion that, if we are good liberals and don’t “force” ourselves onto others (i.e., speak clearly in terms of truth), we can still evangelize them from within.

This suggests that a traditionalist’s political strategy should be even more radical than that of something like Catholic Action: it should begin with an unqualified rejection of liberalism from its very principles, with the sole and clear objective of evangelization (including political evangelization). In this endeavor, both an acceptance of Hume’s fairness principles and a working understanding of today’s cultural and intellectual fads (i.e., a good grasp and a good practice in how liberalism works and speaks) are good instruments to count on, so that our words are intelligible.

The Carlist movement in Spain is based on this kind of idea (their analysis of the liberal predicament is very similar). But they add the necessity of an explicitly political principle (in their case, the legitimist cause), because they fear that without it, we will lose our link to Christendom, making our labors and our thoughts into a purely intellectual project. I think the reason for this, ultimately, is the importance they give to the virtue of piety in traditionalism. It is piety to our ancient fatherlands, forebears, even our ancient kings, that provides the political justification for traditionalism as a movement with the explicit objective of bringing for the real, down-to-earth, factual reign of Christ the King. Thus, their commitments to monarchy, to old customs, etc.

In a country like the United States, this may not be so easily done, or even thought (and the same is true, though perhaps to a lesser degree, in Latin America). The point, in any case, is that in order to be a true alternative to liberalism that is capable of escaping its self-radicalizing ideologization, traditionalism must also have a working alternative to the liberal state, a political “incarnation”, if you will, even if it is only in aspirational form. Without this, it is almost impossible to prevent traditionalism from becoming, as time passes, another fad within the vacuum of liberal ideology.

Excommunication and the Efficacy of Ecclesiastical Sanctions

by Peter Kwasniewski


When I was in my twenties and thirties and becoming more of a traditionalist by the year, one of the most frequent refrains I heard from my friends and acquaintances had to be: “It’s a scandal how few bishops excommunicate the heretics [insert specification: abortionists, Democrats, modernists, proponents of women’s ordination, etc.] in their dioceses. If only they would flex their episcopal muscles and do something about the problems, our troubles would eventually go away.”

Through my involvement with a papal institute in Austria, I got to know several bishops and cardinals and even had the opportunity to talk at some length with a high-ranking member of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. These and other experiences prompted me to think about how much more is required to keep the Church on course than anathematizing heretical propositions and excommunicating heretics, and, in particular, how feeble such penalties are in isolation from a larger Catholic culture and from those profound Catholic instincts and intuitions that give penalties their meaning.

The very notions of law, discipline, and duty no longer have much presence or significance among churchmen and laity. Cardinal Burke has spoken of the crisis of antinomianism that prevents Canon Law from being studied, followed, and implemented. Today, when the CDF sanctions theologians or bishops, the response is often complete contempt. What does one do then? Excommunicate more and more vehemently, in broad swathes? But how will that solve any problem? Authority and obedience are correlative. If you don’t have obedience, authority means nothing; it cannot function in a vacuum.

The problem in the Church is not a failure of papal commands but a failure of Catholics to obey clear instructions already given, clear duties established by Scripture and Tradition. In the solemn language of Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, to take one vivid example, John Paul II reaffirmed the constant teaching of the Church that women cannot be ordained priests, and excommunicated several women who went through with an “ordination” ceremony. Will this kind of action get to the roots of the problem? All that the pope can do is to make the Church’s teaching clear, and then to follow through with the appropriate canonical sanctions.[i] Christ and His Church speak above all to consciences. If people (including priests) do not want to obey, the Church cannot make them obey, nor will any amount of disciplining, as such, improve the situation. What is necessary is conversion of heart and of culture, and this is what we should spend our time praying for, exemplifying, and promoting as best we can.

I can make my point with an analogy: why did Paul VI get rid of the Index of Forbidden Books? Most certainly not because he thought no books were bad and there could no longer be any danger of reading harmful literature in this enlightened age. It was because the Index was out of date the moment it hit the press. In fact, for hundreds of years it had sorely lagged behind the spread of evil literature. A truly accurate and reliable Index would have to be twenty or thirty volumes of tiny print, like the Oxford English Dictionary.

Let us pleasantly imagine the Vatican producing such a comprehensive Index, and then condemning everyone who, without explicit permission, reads any book listed in it. What would happen? Would the world become more Catholic, or would the Vatican look like a bunch of raving lunatics? The Index, like the Inquisition, functioned well in a different cultural setting, but it would not work today. The Church is a free society, free with the gifts of grace, and it invites men and women freely to listen to Christ, the one true teacher and ruler of mankind. One might welcome the shift that has occurred in this regard, or one might (with equal or better reason) lament that certain truly intolerable abuses, such as the flagrant disobedience of bishops in matters liturgical, continue to be tolerated by the Vatican. In any case, one must recognize the practical and theoretical conditions necessary for the very concepts of law, discipline, and duty to be intelligible and efficacious.

It may be that someday the culture of a given country will shift so decisively back towards Catholicism that things like an Index, bookburning, excommunications, and even corporal punishments, frequently recommended by popes of ages past, will all find their rightful places once again. The Lord in heaven knows how desperately we need them all. For now, however, it seems we must be content with moral suasion and the slow work of rebuilding a coherent culture of faith, worship, and life.


NOTE

[i] Certainly some hierarches have been deficient in doing the latter, which cannot be omitted, but its effectiveness (both short-term and long-term) presupposes a consistency, clarity, and boldness of teaching and preaching, and a receptive and supportive Catholic culture, that are often woefully absent.

Error as a Parasite

A Philosophical Bagatelle

by Peter A. Kwasniewski


I wrote this little piece in 1997, when reading an article on parasites that had appeared in National Geographic.

 

There can be a philosophy of error—a “love of wisdom” in regard to error—only per accidens. As Aristotle says, a true explanation will at the same time refute the objections or opposed positions. So, too, it may be said that an understanding of how error works, the way error grafts itself onto truth, is implicitly present in understanding what truth is and how it presents itself.

Perhaps the most elegant example is Aristotle’s refutation of Parmenides and Melissus in Book I of the Physics. When he has laid out his own explanation, he returns to the difficulties and shows why the partial truths contained in the erroneous theories can be saved only when they are integrated into the whole he has set forth. There is thus a kind of wisdom attained about the errors, if wisdom signifies a knowledge in reference to the end of a given genus, which is always some whole. The man who is “wise about war” is one who understands the particulars of warfare in reference to the end of victory. There can thus be a “wisdom” about error insofar as one is studying the manner in which wisdom offers the pattern according to which a deceiver or an ignoramus could approximate the truth by a likeness yet not attain it. Without the pattern, there could not be a bad copy; without the whole there could not be a rebellious part.

A theory or philosophy of error has to begin from the fact that error is a parasite which lives by attaching itself to some truth, or host-organism, from which it derives its sustenance, that is, its credibility. The host organism is a larger body of truth which contains enough superfluity, so to speak, to permit an error to be drawn off of it. In other words, if one starts with a very simple truth, like the principle of non-contradiction or the principle of identity, it is rather difficult to generate an error from it immediately. The principle is in itself so clear, and so “thin” as a proposition, that it has no fatness from which a falsehood could derive nourishment. Alhough Hegel’s comment that the concept of being is the emptiest of concepts is false, he is pointing out a truth: when speaking of “being in general,” one has already committed the error of making being a genus. “Being” that is applicable to all things is a logical abstraction. When we say that the principle of non-contradiction is “thin” we mean that its truth is so transparent as to admit of no unclarity, no possibility of mistaking the meaning. At the level of the undressed principle of non-contradiction, no one who was capable of thought or perception could fail to embrace it. Related to this inherent transparency is the principle of non-contradiction’s infinite fertility as a principle, its “thickness” in applicability or extension.

Accordingly, while it is true to say that the principle of non-contradiction contains within itself the truth, or truth-value, of all possible particular propositions, nevertheless it must also be admitted that the universal is the emptiest, as far as its concretion or application is concerned. Its power only becomes apparent when it is “fleshed out,” as the phrase goes; and the more fleshed out it is, the more food it affords for error. As Aristotle observes, we are rarely mistaken about the universals which can be gathered easily from experience (e.g., the whole is greater than any of its parts), but we frequently err in applying what we know in general to what we encounter in particulars. For example, we may know that all mules are sterile, but we may not know that this particular animal is sterile if we do not identify it as a mule. As long as we stick to the simplest axioms and theorems of geometry, we are not likely to fall into error; but the further we go in drawing conclusions, the more complex the proofs become and greater room opens up for making a mistake in reasoning. Room for error becomes broader still when thought shifts from reasoning in the strict sense (i.e., in a manner reducible to syllogism) to reasoning on the basis of probabilities—as when we reason about natural events which are “for the most part,” or about ethics, where tight logical inference is weakened by the factors of free will and custom—or on the basis of likenesses, as when we draw arguments from features common to man and other animals, or properties analogously predicable of God and man.

A superfluity of expanded truth, an unfolded system, a fully-formed and well-nourished body of observations, inferences, or deductions, affords opportunities for a parasite, which is not equal to the task of appropriating the whole, to seize some part of the whole and maintain its independent life by removing and transforming that part into its own life-system. Superfluity, as suggestive of useless excess, may be the wrong term; but I wish to convey the notion of a sort of “padding” around a system of truth, portions of which can be stolen from it without destroying the fundamental truths of the system itself. Without these truths, the parasites can no longer live; paradoxically, their survival depend on the health of the principles and many of the conclusions as well.

Some elements of an “organic” theory of error would be as follows.

  1. The connection of error and truth, or more accurately, the necessary subordination of falsehood to the truth from which it derives its sole means of subsistence. Error is intelligible to the extent that it still contains in its stomach the digestibilia of truth.
  2. The dependence of the parasite idea upon the host idea which precontains the segment used by the parasite; precontains it, moreover, in a holistic way whereby it serves as a part that benefits the greater organism. It is precisely this holistic function of the particular truth that the parasite directly counteracts by isolating a part and taking it out of the whole. The truth is only a “full” or “functional” truth within the organism of which it constitutes an element; when removed, it is dead, like the hand severed from the body which is called a hand only equivocally. Thus, the truth taken by the parasite becomes, in isolation, a falsehood because it is taken out of or away from the context, the body, in which it has a purposeful place in the entire organic structure. The particular truth or element is teleological, in that it contributes to the good of the entire organism; an organism is in fact an “organized body,” a multiplicity governed by the soul for the sake of some end or hierarchy of ends (nutrition, sensation, cognition, volition).[i]
  3. The Mystical Body of Christ can be parasitized; that is the essence of heresy. Heresy is in the theological realm what intellectual error is in the philosophical realm. Protestantism lives to the extent that Catholicity remains within it, as digestibilia. When a Protestantism which has cut itself off definitively from the Body thoroughly digests what it has taken, it dies for want of nourishment, as can be seen clearly in the liberal Protestantism of the 19th and 20th centuries which has now metamorphosed into agnostic social activism, usually with a diabolical twist.
  4. Error cannot be understood independently of truth, as though it were an isolated item that could be placed in a separate category or box. The very being of a falsehood is relative to a truth to which it must remain somehow attached, even if in an attitude of antagonism or hostility, or minimally, in an attitude of selfish utility. Thus, for example, the early modern philosophers cannot develop their systems except in contradistinction and opposition to the ancients and medievals[ii]; the modern systems are in fact parasitical in nature, in so far as they start from a rejection of the old whole and carve out whatever portions of it they wish to maintain for their own sub-holistic purposes. They can exist only to the extent that the old whole still exists and provides nourishment to their errors and a whole to which their systems (which are really “sub-systems,” in that they result from a constriction of the prior whole, and not from a separation and independent development) can be opposed.
  5. Biological parasitology can teach us this, too: by far the greater number of animal species in existence, perhaps as much as three-quarters of known species, are parasitical.[iii] By analogy, one would expect error mingled with truth to outweigh pure truth—and so it does, as we can see from looking around us at the errors in which most of mankind is embroiled. The fall of man is a fall from friendship with God, where there is mutual cooperation, to a kind of parasitism off of God’s creation. This is also the essence of capitalism: a mechanism of preying off of other members of the social body for the benefit of the predator.

The truth of the theory of error presented here is confirmed by the simple fact that there could never be a philoplanē or philosphalma—that is, a “love of error” analogous to “love of wisdom”—for the simple reason that the mind of its very nature is borne towards the true and cannot accept anything false except because it has first persuaded itself that the false is true.[iv] A “thought-experiment,” for example, means a situation where one adopts a certain thesis as true, even if it is false strictly speaking, and proceeds to deduce the consequences, as in Lobachevsky’s non-Euclidean geometry. Moreover, if an opponent of non-Euclidean geometry grants that it “works” when applied to curved surfaces, he is admitting precisely that the geometry is true so far as curved surfaces are concerned, but not with plane surfaces where the straight line has an unbending definition.

It seems only fitting to let that great truth-lover St. Augustine have the final word:

People have such a love for truth that when they happen to love something else, they want it to be the truth; and because they do not wish to be proven wrong, they refuse to be shown their mistake. And so, they end up hating the truth for the sake of the object which they have come to love instead of the truth.


NOTES

[i] The term “system” in its original etymology should be examined more carefully along the lines sketched here.

[ii] Gabriel Marcel says that Sartre’s ethical position can exist, as a position, only when there is a contrary understanding of freedom and truth for it to oppose. (The same is true, one might point out, of James Madison’s understanding of man and political community.) One might say that an error only exists as a position, that is, something posited or placed against something else. Truth has a kind of independent or self-sufficient being, which does not stand in need of something extraneous in order to stand; not so with error.

[iii] See National Geographic, October 1997.

[iv] Vincent McCabe argues this point exceptionally well in his book The Catholic Church and Philosophy.

On the Subordination of the State to the Church

by Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara, OP

Translated by Timothy Wilson


Today we continue our series of original translations of important texts relating to Catholic political philosophy. Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara was a prominent Thomist philosopher and theologian in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Among many other accomplishments, he was closely involved with the preparation of the Leonine edition of the Angelic Doctor’s Opera Omnia (the first volume of which contains his synopses and annotations on St. Thomas’ Organon commentaries), and assisted in preparing the encyclicals Aeterni Patris and Rerum novarum.

The chapter translated here is taken from book two of the third part of Zigliara’s widely circulated Summa philosophica (14th ed., 1910). Having treated of domestic, civil, and religious society in their principles and particulars in the preceding books and chapters of this part, he now sets himself the task of treating in brief the relations which should obtain between those two perfect societies, the Church and the State. The original text can be found here.

This is the last of the five articles of the chapter, treating of the subordination of the State to the Church.


FIFTH ARTICLE

On the subordination of the State to the Church

I. Nature of the question. A religious society, of which sort is the Catholic Church, lives in the company of civil society, such that the spiritual power of the Roman Pontiff is as it were in contact with the civil power, and they who are civilly subjects of the temporal authority are at once subjects of Ecclesiastical authority. It is commonly conceded that the civil authority, within the limits of its ends, is independent of the Church, in that manner in which we say the Church, with respect to its end, to be independent of any civil authority. But it is wholly impossible that two societies should exist at once with equal independence, that is, without mutual subordination to one another; consequently, it is necessary that either the Church be subordinate to the civil State, or the civil State to the Church. Behold the question, concerning which we have said many things in Articles 61 and 63, and whose solution we give in this final article, so that there might more clearly be seen the notion of ethnarchy which belongs to the Catholic Church. Let the conclusion therefore be stated:

II. In no wise is the Catholic Church subordinate to the civil State, but the civil State of its nature is subordinate to the Catholic Church. This proposition is easily proved, if there are recalled to mind the principles which we made known in the preceding Chapter. For the notion or nature of the subordination of societies ought to be taken absolutely from the end: for, seeing that the nature of the society arises from the end to which it is ordered, where the ends of two societies are subordinated, the societies equally ought to be subordinated; and a society whose end is subordinate to the end of a higher society, is also subordinated to that other. These are the principles, without which there consists nothing anymore firm in determining the nature of society. But the end of civil society and the end of religious society are ordered to one another, and the end of civil society is subordinated to the end of the Catholic Church, and not vice versa. Therefore in no wise is the Catholic Church subordinate to the civil state, but the civil state of its nature is subordinate to the Catholic Church. The minor is proved.

The end of civil society and the end of religious society are ordered to one another. For man is composed from soul and body, and, as man, is a part of society. But civil society properly looks to the exterior perfection of man, because it is not able to penetrate into the interior things of conscience, and what is more, because it considers man living in this life, it has care chiefly for his temporal perfection; whereas the Catholic Church, as a spiritual society, is ordered rather to the perfection of the soul and directs men to eternal felicity. But although these things are true, yet it is true that man neither is able nor ought to be divided, but just as the soul is for the perfection of the body and the body is for the perfection of the soul, so equally corporeal perfection—to which the civil State directly attends—and spiritual perfection—which the Church of Christ bountifully imparts—both ought to provide for the whole man. Therefore the ends of both societies, although distinct amongst themselves, yet agree in one common end, which is the man to be perfected; and consequently, these ends are ordered to one another.

The end of civil society is subordinated to the end of the Catholic Church, and not vice versa. Indeed, nothing forbids that man, as a composite of soul and body, not procure for himself, in an upright manner, all those things which coincide for living this life comfortably. Nevertheless, it is irrational and repulsive to submit the soul to the body in such a manner that it is the body’s slave, and esteems less his intellectual perfection, so that in his body he leads a life according to the fashion of brute animals; but the body ought to be subservient to the soul. — It savors of dementia, moreover, to think that man should be solicitous of temporal felicity—which felicity he must lose, though he will it or not—and not think of attaining eternal happiness: For what doth it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul? Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul? (Matt. XVI, 26). For we have not here a lasting city, but we seek one that is to come (Hebr. XIII, 14). Therefore, whatever man seeks in this life, whatever he searches out for himself in civil society and from civil society, he either seeks perversely, or ought to order to the spiritual and eternal perfection of the soul. Because, therefore, the end of the Church is the interior and eternal perfection of man, but the end of civil society is his external and temporal perfection, the end of the Church is not subordinated to that of civil society, but rather the latter to the former.

III. The Catholic Church is an ethnarchic society. Before I prove that the Catholic Church truly is an ethnarchic society, and consequently that there is in it a true ethnarchy, I think it worthwhile to take a moment and put forward the doctrine of St. Thomas concerning Christ, insofar as He is the Head of all men: «There is this difference between the natural head of man and the mystical body of the Church, that the members of the natural body are all together; but the members of the mystical body are not all together: not with respect to the esse of nature, because the body of the Church is constituted from men, who have existed from the beginning of the world even to its end; neither according to the esse of grace, for, of those even who are in one time, some lack grace, to be had later, while others already possess it. Thus therefore, the members of the mystical body are taken, not only according as they are in act, but also according as they are in potency. Yet there are some in potency who are never reduced to act; whereas there are some who are reduced to act at some time or other. And this occurs according to a threefold grade: the first of which is through faith; the second through charity of the way; the third through the fruition of the patria. Thus, therefore, it should be said, that taking it generally according to the whole of the world’s time, Christ is the head of all men, but according to diverse grades. For firstly and chiefly is He head of those who are united to Him in act through glory; secondly, of those are united in act to Him through charity; thirdly, of those who are united in act to Him through faith; fourthly, of those who are only united to Him in potency not yet reduced to act, which yet is to be reduced to act according to divine predestination; fifthly, of those who are united to Him in potency, which potency is never reduced to act: as men living in this world, who are not predestined, who yet, receding from this age, entirely cease to be members of Christ, because they are no longer in potency, as to be united to Christ» (IIIa, q. 8, a. 3).

From these principles, our thesis is easily proved. Indeed the Catholic Church encompasses all nations, whether in act or in potency, as we have heard from St. Thomas; furthermore, it is of its nature a doctrinal society, and possesses an infallible magisterium in the matters which look to dogmas and morals; it is a society whose invisible head is Christ Himself, at once God and man; whose visible head is the Supreme Roman Pontiff, exalted with supernatural dignity, subject to no man, having civil powers subordinate to him, and directed, by the special assistance of the Holy Ghost, to the salvation of nations. In the Church, therefore, you have universality, you have doctrinal magisterium, you have dignity and supereminence: all the things, namely, which are required for an ethnarchy, that is, for valid authority over all peoples or nations. — This wisest kind of politics prevailed, to the good of peoples, in the Middle Ages, that is, when truly Christian peoples and kings received and venerated, in the Roman Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ—whose name, as Isaiah says, is Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace.[1]


NOTES

[1] Isaiah 9:6

On Liberty of Teaching

by Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara, OP

Translated by Timothy Wilson


Today we continue our series of original translations of important texts relating to Catholic political philosophy. Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara was a prominent Thomist philosopher and theologian in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Among many other accomplishments, he was closely involved with the preparation of the Leonine edition of the Angelic Doctor’s Opera Omnia (the first volume of which contains his synopses and annotations on St. Thomas’ Organon commentaries), and assisted in preparing the encyclicals Aeterni Patris and Rerum novarum.

The chapter translated here is taken from book two of the third part of Zigliara’s widely circulated Summa philosophica (14th ed., 1910). Having treated of domestic, civil, and religious society in their principles and particulars in the preceding books and chapters of this part, he now sets himself the task of treating in brief the relations which should obtain between those two perfect societies, the Church and the State. The original text can be found here.

This is the fourth of the five articles of the chapter, treating of liberty of teaching. The final article, on the subordination of the State to the Church, will be posted in the course of the next few days.


FOURTH ARTICLE

On liberty of teaching¹

I. Question. Simultaneously one with liberty of conscience and of cult, there is proclaimed by the more recent liberalism a liberty of teaching, particularly with respect to the means with which it is principally exercised, namely, with respect to liberty of the press (la libertá della stampa). We ask, therefore, whether this liberty is upright, and to be approved by the civil authority. Here again I caution that the discussion is concerned, not with tolerance, but with approbation: evils indeed are able to be tolerated, yet naught but goods ought to be approved.

II. First preliminary note. It has been said more than once by us, that man is born for society, and cannot have the helps for perfecting himself except in society and from society. But the perfection of man chiefly is found in the intellective part of him, to which it is proper to know and to love: to know the truth, and to love the good. Thence it is, that to impede man from the acquiring of truth and the virtues, is in a certain way to kill him intellectually.

III. Second preliminary note. However, there is a certain doctrine which does not instruct minds but perverts them, insinuating error under the guise of truth. On account of which, seeing that man by his nature is drawn to the truth and has the right of seeking it and the duty of shunning error, he has the right that others not induce him into error under the guise of truth. Therefore just as the liberty of truth is honorable, so the liberty of error is the death of the soul, as St. Augustine days, and does not merit the name of liberty, but of license.

IV. Point of the question. Therefore the entire question concerning the liberty of teaching does not touch upon the true liberty of teaching the truth, but the liberty of teaching as it encompasses the instruction both of truth and of error. Is this liberty able to be permitted by the civil authority? To this question, defined in this fashion, I respond with the following conclusion:

V. Liberty of teaching, whether spoken or written, is intrinsically absurd and disgraceful. For it is intrinsically absurd and shameful to concede the same rights to truth and to error; it is intrinsically absurd and shameful that the civil authority should not preserve voluntarily the citizens from the corruption of mind and heart; it is intrinsically absurd and shameful that the civil authority should permit that which it is itself compelled to condemn and punish. But liberty of teaching is of this sort. Therefore it is intrinsically absurd and shameful. — The minor is proved.

Liberty of teaching concedes the same rights to truth and to error. This is included in the very nature of liberty of teaching, as it is understood by liberalism. For it includes in its scope the right of striking down things pertaining so much to the world, as to God, and to religion, morals, individual life, and social life. Now it is not necessary to prove, that men may err in the gravest of matters, which matters natural reason itself commands to be altogether defended and most firmly held. The faculty of teaching therefore having been granted, the same right is conceded to error which is conceded to the truth, that it might propagate itself, to the detriment of truth: no indeed, error would enjoy a greater right than truth. For the truth cannot but employ those means which are honest and worthy, while on the contrary error holds all means as licit. No one of sound mind does not see how absurd and disgraceful are all of these things: for the right is truth; therefore just as error is the lack of truth, so is it the lack of right.

Liberty of teaching works to the corruption of the mind and heart. I assume two things for demonstrating this: 1° that men, from the corruption of nature, are wont to accept theories which favor their passions; 2° that the greater part of mankind is per se incapable of freeing itself from the pursuit of knowledge, and of extricating itself from false reasoning and the sophisms of error. He who would deny these two things, would deny a fact which is at once constant and manifest to all. But: 1° from the liberty of teaching there arises the liberty of error, as has been said above, through which the passions are favored and excited against the intellective part—and, the intellective part erring, it cannot happen that the whole man be not corrupted; 2° on account of the liberty of teaching, men are exposed daily to the danger of erring in those things which they are held to know and about which they are held to think truly—such as the matters which have to do with God, the human soul, morals, and religion—when through false teachers, truths of this sort are assailed with impudent license, and which the greater part of humanity is not able to defend from sophisms. Wherefore, a proclivity toward evil being supposed on one hand, and an impotence for reasoning scientifically on the other, it cannot happen that the liberty, or more truly the license, of teaching does not entirely and efficaciously work to the corruption of the minds and hearts of the citizens. — But it is the right of the citizens that the civil authority defend them from so great a calamity, nor is this authority able to abandon this duty without thereby committing a crime. How much more shameful and absurd it is, then, that the civil authority should proclaim this deformity in its laws, which through an intolerable abuse of words is called the liberty of teaching?

Liberty of teaching is simultaneously approved and punished by the civil authority. On the one hand, liberty of teaching is established, and on the other, they are punished who abuse the press in order to circulate things which in fact are, or are judged to be, opposed to the civil authority. But, either the liberty of teaching in word or writing is to be proclaimed in its whole extension; or on the contrary, it is to be confined within limits lest it lead to evil. But if it ought to be admitted in its full extension, why therefore are they who use and abuse it punished? If it ought to be constrained within certain limits, lest it devolve into license, then: firstly, it is able to be limited so that it does not work evil (la revisione preventiva), just as it is punished after evil has been perpetrated; no indeed, it would be more prudent to obstruct it, for most often the evil is irreparable; secondly, these limits are to be defined only according to truth and integrity; wherefore, just as liberty of teaching is condemned and punished by the civil authority when it inclines to the detriment of the same authority, so a fortiori it is to be condemned and punished whenever the same liberty sallies forth against God, religion, morals, and the true liberty of citizens: because the civil authority is not superior to God, religion, morals, and truth, nor is it more serious to disparage the Rulers of cities and kingdoms, than to disparage God and religion and truth, without which no authority commands and no society consists.

VI. Note. Difficulties are resolved. First objection. There is in man an innate desire of communicating to other men the discoveries of his own talent. But this natural desire is not satisfied, except by means of liberty of teaching. Therefore liberty of teaching corresponds to natural human desire.

I respond. I distinguish the major: there is in man an innate desire of communicating the discoveries of his own talent within the limits of truth, I concede; outside the limits of truth, I deny. — I distinguish also the minor: this natural desire is not satisfied except by means of liberty of teaching rightly understood, that is, through true liberty which is not contrary to truth, I concede; it is not satisfied except through liberty badly understood, that is, through license which is contrary to truth, I deny. — Nature does not give an inclination to error, just as it does not give inclination to evil; wherefore, just as the inclination to evil, which is from the corruption of nature, ought to be checked, so also the perverse inclination to error. — But the liberty of error is not true liberty, but the abuse of liberty, and is license, to be detested and curbed.

Second objection. By reason of liberty of teaching, whether in word or writing, opinions are considered and the truth is more and more made clear. But that which is of this sort not only contains nothing of evil, but indeed confers to itself the greatest good. Therefore liberty of teaching ought very much to be supported.

I respond. In the first place, the adversary concludes, from the fact that there may be some good had from liberty of teaching, to the goodness of this liberty; which conclusion we have proved is not able to be had from this aforementioned good alone, in no. IV of the preceding article. I respond secondly, by distinguishing the minor: Something of this sort contains nothing evil if, through liberty of teaching, only opinions are considered, and errors are not defended, I concede; if error is defended against truth, I deny. — It has been said that error lacks right, and indeed is the lack of right. Where the liberty of teaching is conceded to error, therefore, there is no right, but manifest injustice against truth, which in this case is not elucidated, but is denied.

Third objection. Liberty of teaching having been denied, the State is constituted as the judge of teaching, and additionally, there is conceded to it a monopoly on teaching. But the State is not the judge of teaching, and is not able to arrogate to itself the monopoly on teaching without the greatest tyranny. Therefore liberty of teaching is entirely to be permitted.

I respond. I deny the major, I concede the minor, and I deny the consequence, liberty having been accepted as it is at once a right of truth and error, as it is taken by the adversaries. — I concede that there belongs to the civil State no authority concerning teachings: but it is not necessary that one be endowed with this governance of teaching, or magisterium, in order to discern those things which are manifestly evil, so much in themselves as in relation to civil society, so that the former might be able to be inculcated and the latter prohibited; just as, if one were to defend an innocent from a manifest unjust aggressor, he would not thereby be constituted judge between the two; but the innocent has a manifest right, and in order to defend him from an unjust attacker in the act of aggression, one is able to seek out the help of another. But in the order of teaching, there are certain vices, that is, manifest errors, which indeed the State is able and ought to know and punish, just as other vices, without seizing for itself the teaching magisterium. — But in fact there exists, above the State, a teaching magisterium in the Catholic Church and in the Supreme Pontiff. Therefore the errors which the Catholic Church condemns, the State also ought to condemn, and it ought to accept the teaching magisterium of the Church.

Fourth objection. The right of the citizens, for whom it is easy to reject erroneous doctrines, is not harmed by liberty of teaching. But that which harms the rights of no one, ought to be permitted. Therefore liberty of teaching ought to be permitted.

I respond. I deny the major. For proof of this, I respond in the first place that, even granting that each and every person were able to detect the insidious devices of sophists or those who err, a right to this aggression would not thereby be something to be admitted; just as there ought not to be admitted a right in an unjust aggressor, even if there were the means for repelling his violence in the innocent, whose power to repel injury does not diminish the injustice of the aggressor. — I respond secondly, that it is false that it is easy for all to avoid the tricks of sophists, particularly when the sophisms favor the passions: in fact, we see that men—I speak not only of coarse folk, but of clever men as well—are every day entangled in false doctrines.

Fifth objection. The Church herself desires liberty of teaching, and demands that it be conceded to her from the State by right. Therefore liberty of teaching, which is good in the religious order, is not able not to be good in the civil order.

I respond. I distinguish the antecedent: The Church desires true liberty of teaching, I concede; she desires false liberty of teaching, about which our whole question is concerned, I deny. The Church has never opposed herself to the liberty of truth, but rightly opposes herself to the liberty, or more correctly the license, of error. But justly does she claim absolutely for herself the liberty of teaching, because she is the mistress of truth, whatever be the desire or aversion of her adversaries.

But concerning the liberty of teaching taken in the sense of the adversaries, the Church desires it in the same manner in which she desires the liberty of cult: namely, insofar as it is most unjust that the magisterium of the Church, which is the instrument of truth, is excluded from that liberty which is conceded to error through civil laws. Concerning this matter, let us hear our most holy lord Pope Pius IX, in his Letter of 19 July 1875 to Felice Dupanloup, bishop of Órleans, about the liberty of teaching which the Catholics in France had sought and received in the year 1875 from the French government:

«Although it is to the disadvantage of the eternal laws of justice and of right reason itself, that true and false be had in the same condition, and equal rights be granted to both, yet since the iniquity of the times has transferred right (which is proper by its very nature to the true alone) to the false; and, the word liberty being sufficiently unsuitable, has granted to it the power of proposing, publishing, and teaching its fictions; We judge you, Venerable Brother, to have made an effort, altogether skillfully and advantageously, to adapt this venom forced upon civil society into a remedy for it. Indeed, if it is lawful for anyone of unsound mind to advance fantasies upon the public by means of the laws, and to avail himself of the same also to defend and relate the dogmas of science; there plainly is no reason at hand, why it ought not to be lawful for the truth: nor is there a reason why any person whatever, although he be a follower of fables and a hater of truth—unless he were entirely mad—would be able to deny to it the perspicuity of this right. To this ineluctable strength of argument there accedes no small degree of firmness, whether from the reproach proposed by You with respect to the impediment—to the detriment of science—cast upon so many talented minds, of setting forth their ideas; or from the facts attested to by experience, of the inclination—begotten by the captivity of truth—of letters and the higher disciplines; and also of the impudence, with which principles most pernicious not only to religion, but also to the human community, are even now published. These losses, if they are to be lamented in the license by which error everywhere is proposed to the people, certainly are to be considered deadly things in the instruction of youth and young men, in which the very root of human society is so corrupted, that it is capable only of poisoned fruits, which at length lead it, already ill, ruined, and prostrated, to dissolution.»


NOTES

[1] Cf. Leo XIII, encyclical Libertas præstantissimum §§24-25:

«A like judgment must be passed upon what is called liberty of teaching. There can be no doubt that truth alone should imbue the minds of men, for in it are found the well-being, the end, and the perfection of every intelligent nature; and therefore nothing but truth should be taught both to the ignorant and to the educated, so as to bring knowledge to those who have it not, and to preserve it in those who possess it. For this reason it is plainly the duty of all who teach to banish error from the mind, and by sure safeguards to close the entry to all false convictions. From this it follows, as is evident, that the liberty of which We have been speaking is greatly opposed to reason, and tends absolutely to pervert men’s minds, in as much as it claims for itself the right of teaching whatever it pleases – a liberty which the State cannot grant without failing in its duty. And the more so because the authority of teachers has great weight with their hearers, who can rarely decide for themselves as to the truth or falsehood of the instruction given to them.

Wherefore, this liberty, also, in order that it may deserve the name, must be kept within certain limits, lest the office of teaching be turned with impunity into an instrument of corruption. Now, truth, which should be the only subject matter of those who teach, is of two kinds: natural and supernatural. Of natural truths, such as the principles of nature and whatever is derived from them immediately by our reason, there is a kind of common patrimony in the human race. On this, as on a firm basis, morality, justice, religion, and the very bonds of human society rest: and to allow people to go unharmed who violate or destroy it would be most impious, most foolish, and most inhuman.»

On Liberty of Cult

by Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara, OP

Translated by Timothy Wilson


Today we continue our series of original translations of important texts relating to Catholic political philosophy. Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara was a prominent Thomist philosopher and theologian in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Among many other accomplishments, he was closely involved with the preparation of the Leonine edition of the Angelic Doctor’s Opera Omnia (the first volume of which contains his synopses and annotations on St. Thomas’ Organon commentaries), and assisted in preparing the encyclicals Aeterni Patris and Rerum novarum.

The chapter translated here is taken from book two of the third part of Zigliara’s widely circulated Summa philosophica (14th ed., 1910). Having treated of domestic, civil, and religious society in their principles and particulars in the preceding books and chapters of this part, he now sets himself the task of treating in brief the relations which should obtain between those two perfect societies, the Church and the State. The original text can be found here.

This is the third of the five articles of the chapter, treating of liberty of cult. The remaining articles will be posted serially over the next few days.


THIRD ARTICLE

On liberty of cult

I. The notion of liberty of cults. Liberty of cult is intimately involved with liberty of conscience. For if each and every citizen is free to decide upon a religion for himself according to his will, since religion implies also an external cult, each and every citizen ought to be free to profess his religion by any extrinsic cult whatever: and because the State is not able to offend against liberty of conscience, so neither may it prohibit liberty of cult; no indeed, it ought to sanction it by its laws. Thus teaches liberalism, the opinion of which the Church has condemned, as has been related in no. VII of the preceding article. Since, therefore, the liberty of cult is wholly founded in the liberty of conscience, it is to be refuted by the same process and with the same principles which we have laid down against liberty of conscience. Therefore let the first conclusion be set forth:

II. Liberty of cult, considered in itself, is absurd. This proposition remains proved in the first place from the things said above. For liberty of cult is inferred from the liberty of conscience. Because, therefore, this latter is absurd, the former ought also to be called absurd. — But furthermore: liberty of cult having been conceded to man, there is removed from God the power of assigning a determinate cult to men, and there is imposed upon God an obligation of accepting or at least approving any cult shown to Him by human reason. And indeed, if God is able to command a cult, if it is clear that He has prescribed a determinate cult, if He is held by no reason to accept the arbitrary cults of men, men are not able, without manifest irreligion or impiety, to oppose the commands of God, and their cult is an arbitrary and true mockery of God, and liberty of cult is superstition and an impiety. But it is an impiety to deny to God the ability of determining cult, and to impose in any way the duty of approving any cult whatsoever indiscriminately. Therefore liberty of cult is absurd. — In addition, let the second conclusion be stated:

III. Although the civil social authority is able at times to tolerate liberty of cult, yet it is in no way able to sanction it by any law. There is nothing to be added concerning tolerance after the things said concerning tolerance of liberty of conscience. And so the thesis is proved with respect to approbative or prescriptive law. We have proved above that political atheism is entirely repugnant. Therefore, just as any citizen, so also society itself, endued as it is with the nature of a moral person, is obliged to the duties of religion, and of true religion, by a most strict precept of nature. But religion implies external cult. Therefore the civil authority, to which it belongs to direct society, is most strictly obliged to observe, inculcate, and promote this external cult: I say that the civil authority is held to a cult consentaneous to the nature of sociality, that is, public, social, and finally, proper to society as it is society, or as a public and moral personality. But a false cult is not religion, but superstition and consequently error and impiety. Therefore to sanction liberty of cult, is to sanction impiety, but the denial of some social cult is the negation of religion in society qua society. Therefore social authority, although at times it is able to tolerate liberty of cult, yet is in no wise able to sanction it in law.

These things seem to me to be evident, and I wonder that they are denied not only by the rationalists—who, since they either explicitly deny God or retain Him in word only, logically reject any religion by the individual and from society—but by the liberalism which wishes to be called Catholic. For a Catholic would know that God ought to be worshiped with a true cult, and thus a false cult is not able to be endorsed; that God has spoken to men, has commanded a determinate cult, has constituted the Catholic Church as the sole magistra in those matters which pertain to religion—and hence there ought not to be approved any cult but that ordained by the Church, commanded by God Himself.

IV. Note. A difficulty is resolved. You may say: by means of liberty of cult, the Catholic Church also is able freely to practice its worship, while on the contrary, this liberty having been removed, the Church loses even her juridical liberty. — I respond, that this sort of argument effects a sham, and confounds things which, among themselves, are distinct and ought to be distinguished. For we are able to speak in a twofold manner concerning liberty of cult, relatively and absolutely[1]. Relatively, against those who proclaim liberty of cult and yet (just as we have heard from Rousseau concerning liberty of conscience) plague the Church, and prohibit her from practicing her worship, we argue in this manner: Either liberty of cult is to be admitted as a true social principle, or not. If it is to be admitted, therefore unjustly and irrationally are Catholics prohibited from profiting by their liberty; but if not, therefore liberty of cult is merely proclaimed by means of a solemn lie. This argumentation is indeed right, and strikes against the adversaries: wherefore also the Catholic Church does not scornfully reject it, but urges it so that she might defend the claims of her liberty.

But this does not imply that the liberty of cult is able to be defended absolutely by Catholics. For liberty of cult, considered in itself, is absurd and impious, as has been proved. Therefore it is absurd and impious to defend it in an absolute manner. And although from such liberty there sometimes arise goods, namely the liberty of Catholics, Catholics are not for this reason able to teach or defend it; for it is not licit to speak error for the apparent defense of truth: «For if the truth of God hath more abounded through my lie, unto his glory, why am I also yet judged as a sinner? And not rather (as we are slandered, and as some affirm that we say) let us do evil, that there may come good? whose damnation is just» (Rom. III, 7-8).


NOTES

[1] The Cardinal here refers to vol. 1 of his manual, Logica: Dialectica III, cap. 4, a. II, no. XI, where, delineating kinds of demonstration, he writes:

«Absolute demonstration, and relative demonstration or ad hominem. The first is that which proceeds from premises, the truth of which is admitted by us and is assumed for inferring something absolutely: as when we demonstrate the real existence of God from the contingency of creatures, and other things of this sort. A relative or ad hominem demonstration is that which proceeds from principles admitted by an adversary and assumed by us in order to refute him, an abstraction having been made from the truth of those principles; as if someone were to assume principles admitted by materialists or rationalists, in order to convince them of the falsity of their doctrine.»

On Liberty of Conscience

by Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara, OP

Translated by Timothy Wilson


Today we continue our series of original translations of important texts relating to Catholic political philosophy. Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara was a prominent Thomist philosopher and theologian in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Among many other accomplishments, he was closely involved with the preparation of the Leonine edition of the Angelic Doctor’s Opera Omnia (the first volume of which contains his synopses and annotations on St. Thomas’ Organon commentaries), and assisted in preparing the encyclicals Aeterni Patris and Rerum novarum.

The chapter translated here is taken from book two of the third part of Zigliara’s widely circulated Summa philosophica (14th ed., 1910). Having treated of domestic, civil, and religious society in their principles and particulars in the preceding books and chapters of this part, he now sets himself the task of treating in brief the relations which should obtain between those two perfect societies, the Church and the State. The original text can be found here.

This is the second of the five articles of the chapter, treating of liberty of conscience. The remaining articles will be posted serially over the next few days.


SECOND ARTICLE
On liberty of conscience

I. The notion of liberty of conscience. Everywhere today, all who profess liberalism proclaim that liberty of conscience is necessary; and not a few Catholics, from the liberal school, as they call it, who thus call themselves liberal Catholics, are of the same mind with the liberal rationalists. But what is liberty of conscience? Generally, according to its defenders, it can be called the faculty of thinking and doing those things which are more pleasing in those matters which relate to God and religion. We ask, therefore, whether man enjoys this right, or this liberty of conscience: and note the words of the question, for we inquire concerning the right.

II. First preliminary note. In the first place, I say that faith is able to be imposed upon no unbeliever through violence, which faith he refuses to admit; because to believe is of the will, as St. Thomas says in IIaIIæ, q. 10, a. 8. Wherefore the Council of Toledo commanded these things: «But concerning the Jews, the holy Synod commands, that force be inflicted upon no man in order that he believe; for God shows mercy to whom He wills, and hardens whom He wills.» (Cf. Francisco Victoria, Relect. V. de Indis, §. XV). Whence they indeed calumniate the Catholic Church, who say that she does violence to consciences in order to obtain the faith of Christ. Certainly, there has been, and is, violence—but the Church has suffered it and indeed now suffers it; she has not inflicted it, as the history of the martyrs and persecutions manifestly attest.

III. Second preliminary note. For our purposes, so that the exercise of true liberty may be had, it is necessary that it disparage no duty: for liberty is not for evil, but for good (Ps. 50, XIV). Therefore as often as a man abuses it for evil, it ought not to be called liberty, but more truly license. To ask, therefore, whether liberty of conscience is licit, is the same as to ask whether the liberty of thinking and doing those things, which are more pleasing in matters which are concerned with God and religion, disparages the duties toward God Himself. This precisely is the sense of the question, and under this aspect it is to be solved; and its solution is easy.

IV. Third preliminary note. In truth, this question, posed in this manner, is able to be defined 1° absolutely, or liberty of conscience considered in itself; 2° relatively, or liberty of conscience considered with respect to social cooperation: under which latter aspect it is chiefly defended by the adversaries. — Let the first conclusion, therefore, be stated.

V. Liberty of conscience, considered in itself, is entirely impious. And indeed, man, by a most strict duty of nature, is held to think rightly of God, and of those things which look to religion, both speculative and practical (33, II). But voluntarily to make resistance to a most strict duty is license, not liberty; and if the discussion, as in our argument, is concerned with the voluntary transgression of a duty toward God, the aforementioned license is an impiety. Since, therefore, through liberty of conscience, a right is given to man of thinking of God as it more pleases him, this liberty, this right is a true impiety. — But, because this first conclusion is hardly examined by the adversaries, the things already said suffice for its proof; and I arrive at the second part of the question. And thus let the second conclusion be stated.

VI. Liberty of conscience, socially considered, if it is able to be tolerated in given circumstances, yet never is to be approved, and much less to be protected or inculcated. That it is able to be tolerated in given cases is easily admitted: for many other evils are tolerated, or are not punished (for to tolerate is not to approve, nor simply to permit, but only not to punish)—no indeed, it sometimes happens that they ought to be tolerated in society, for otherwise worse evils would follow. But this tolerance ought not to be approbation, nor protection, nor inculcation. — The thesis is proved. Liberty of conscience, socially considered, is founded in nothing other than political atheism: it is most pernicious to society, and self-contradictory. Therefore liberty of conscience, socially considered, is in nowise able to be approved. The antecedent is proved.

It is founded in political atheism alone. And indeed, as has been said in the preceding number, liberty of conscience is a right, conceded to individuals, of thinking of God as they should please, or of submitting those things which are of God and religion, and the duties following from these, to the definition and arbitration of individual conscience, which thus is constituted as the criterion of religion. But just as in many other things, man not only errs from ignorance, but also from malice, so in the things which pertain to religion; nay more, in these more than in others, for religion imports more severe duties, to which the depraved passions make resistance: which errors, both speculative and practice, yet constitute an impiety in the religious order. But because, as has been said, in liberty of conscience, the criterion is the individual reason, the right of liberty of conscience is truly a right to error and impiety: which right indeed is not able to be approved in society and by society, unless at the same time there be set in place religious skepticism or political atheism.

It is most pernicious to society. For, as long as actions remain in the conscience, they are proper to the individual, and do not fall under judgment except that of God. But by the very fact that they are manifested, they have relation to the members of society, and consequently, when they inflict evil upon the members of society, they fall under the purview of the social authority. Now just as men suffer either scandal or any other injury whatsoever from the improbity of other men, so a fortiori they suffer scandal and injury from public and unpunished improbity, and much more from the permitted and approved dissemination of error and impiety, by which the intellectual and moral perfection of men is directly impeded. Therefore not to impede, nay more, indeed to approve these scandals, these injuries, more grave than corporal injuries, is not only impiety toward God, but is a perversion of the social order itself.

It is self-contradictory. And in fact, either liberty of conscience is a right, or it is not. If it is not, why is it noisily proclaimed? But if it is a right, why is it limited? In this limitation is clearly found the contradiction of the defenders of liberty of conscience. Indeed, not only do they prescribe religion, but they also forcibly impose in regard to civil laws, in regard to the king, etc. But neither civil laws, nor the king, nor society itself are above God, Who being removed, all other things topple, and all morality is either absurdity or the animal law of the stronger (29, II). Therefore if liberty of conscience is a right with respect to the duties of religion toward God, and political authority is scrupulous in preserving this right inviolate, the political authority itself is not able to impede it, without manifest contradiction and without open violence, so that that right is exercised fully with respect to royal power, with respect to civil laws, and finally, with respect to civil society itself. — And if it be said, that liberty of conscience should be restrained, such that duties toward society are not harmed; I rejoin, therefore much more ought not liberty to be restrained, but rather license of conscience, lest the duties toward God be abused—which duties are more weighty than social duties, such that the latter do not exist, nor are able to exist, without the former.

VII. Corollary. Rightfully therefore are the following propositions condemned in the Syllabus of Pius IX, which propositions affirm both liberty of conscience and indifferentism:

«Every man is free to embrace and profess that religion which, led by the light of reason, he shall consider true» (Prop. XV).

«Men are able to find the way of eternal salvation in the worship of any religion whatever, and therein to attain eternal salvation» (Prop. XVI).

VIII. Note. A difficulty is resolved. The things which present-day liberals teach concerning liberty of conscience in the social order are not new—indeed, Rousseau had already given them in his Social Contract, Book IV.8. Let us therefore hear this sophist, that from his mouth we might become acquainted with the arguments of the others: «Subjects are not obliged to render a reason to the civil power concerning their opinions, except so far as these are referred to the community. But it is in the interest of the State, that each and every citizen profess a religion which impresses upon him a love of his duties; but the dogmas of this religion concern neither the State nor its members, except so far as they are referred to morals and to the duties which the citizen is obliged to fulfill toward others.»[1]

That these things were written by Rousseau in hatred of the Catholic Church, is manifest from the things which he invents with respect to the will in the chapter cited. Next in order, we shall see the contradictions and absurdities which we encounter throughout in his words and in those of his imitators. — Without doubt, so long as religion is shut up in the interior conscience, it lies hidden from both the civil and ecclesiastical power; and consequently God alone is the judge of it. But when religion becomes the rule of morals, by this very fact it is referred to the community. In this sense, Rousseau thought the State to be present so that each citizen might profess that religion which impressed upon him a love of his duties. But only true religion impresses upon citizens a love of their duties. Therefore, contrary to what Rousseau illogically concludes, it ought entirely to be said, that even from his principles, it is not only fitting to the State that the true religion be at least externally observed by all the citizens, and the propagators of irreligion or of false dogmas be restrained, but it is incumbent upon it as a most grave duty of carrying out that which is proper to it.

All of which things are in such wise true, that Rousseau himself, who defends liberty or license of conscience against the Catholic Church, utterly destroys it after the words just cited by making firm the omnipotence of the State, or Statolatry: «Therefore there ought to be admitted a purely civil profession of faith, the right of which belongs to the Sovereign to determine the articles, not as dogmas of religion, but as they are sentiments of sociability, without which it is impossible that a man be a good citizen and faithful subject. The Sovereign has no faculty for imposing faith in articles of this sort, but he is yet able to make an exile of him who does not believe them, not as one who is impious, but as one who is unsociable and incapable of sincerely loving the laws and justice, and of pouring out one’s life, if necessary, for the carrying out of a duty. And if a man were publicly to admit the aforementioned dogmas, yet led a life as if he did not believe them; let him be punished by death: for he perpetrates the greatest crime, because he has spoken falsely before the law: qu’il soit puni de mort: il a commis le plus grand des crimes, il a menti devant la loi.»[2]

Thus speaks Rousseau, and thus speak they who follow after his sophisms. They set out from the principle: Nothing pertains to the Sovereign concerning the religious opinions of the subjects, so long as their exterior life is conformed to social duties, but immediately it is added, that a code of religion ought to be rendered by the Sovereign, which ought to encompass positive dogmas, that is, the existence of God, the future life, rewards for good deeds, and punishments for bad; and negative dogmas, which Rousseau reduces to intolerance alone. Finally, it is concluded that those citizens ought not to be tolerated—and indeed ought to be expelled from the State or punished by death—who do not hold to this civil religion, even if in other quarters they observe all those things which pertain to duties toward others. That is, religion is excluded from the State by reason of liberty of conscience, as if the principles of true religion should in fact be of no concern to the State; by reason of sociality, religion itself is submitted to the arbitrary will of the Sovereign; and by the arbitrary will of the Sovereign, the citizens, in admitting religion, ought to comply in a blind fashion, under pain of exile or death!

Nor could it have been concluded in any other way. For liberty of conscience, if once admitted, just as it is opposed to true religion, thus is opposed to the true felicity of the State; because there is no morality without God, and no duty without religion. But if regulation in those matters which pertain to religion is taken from the Church of God, it is necessary that it be given over to the arbitration of the civil power: which, lacking authority in religion, imposes its own tyranny upon consciences; and thus the true liberty of souls is oppressed by means of the same principles with which the false liberty of conscience is proclaimed by Rousseau and his followers. — Cf. Principes du Droit politique mis en opposition avec le Contrat social de J-J. Rousseau, par Honoré Torombert, etc., Lib. IV, par M. Lanjuinais, p. 335 (Paris, 1825).


NOTES

[1] This is our direct translation of the Latin text given by the Cardinal. The 1782 translation by G.D.H. Cole from the French renders it thus:

«The subjects then owe the Sovereign an account of their opinions only to such an extent as they matter to the community. Now, it matters very much to the community that each citizen should have a religion. That will make him love his duty; but the dogmas of that religion concern the State and its members only so far as they have reference to morality and to the duties which he who professes them is bound to do to others.»

[2] Cole renders it:

«There is therefore a purely civil profession of faith of which the Sovereign should fix the articles, not exactly as religious dogmas, but as social sentiments without which a man cannot be a good citizen or a faithful subject. While it can compel no one to believe them, it can banish from the State whoever does not believe them — it can banish him, not for impiety, but as an anti-social being, incapable of truly loving the laws and justice, and of sacrificing, at need, his life to his duty. If any one, after publicly recognising these dogmas, behaves as if he does not believe them, let him be punished by death: he has committed the worst of all crimes, that of lying before the law.»

On Political Atheism

by Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara, OP

Translated by Timothy Wilson


Today we continue our series of original translations of important texts relating to Catholic political philosophy. Tommaso Maria Cardinal Zigliara was a prominent Thomist philosopher and theologian in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Among many other accomplishments, he was closely involved with the preparation of the Leonine edition of the Angelic Doctor’s Opera Omnia (the first volume of which contains his synopses and annotations on St. Thomas’ Organon commentaries), and assisted in preparing the encyclicals Aeterni Patris and Rerum novarum.

The chapter translated here is taken from book two of the third part of Zigliara’s widely circulated Summa philosophica (14th ed., 1910). Having treated of domestic, civil, and religious society in their principles and particulars in the preceding books and chapters of this part, he now sets himself the task of treating in brief the relations which should obtain between those two perfect societies, the Church and the State. The original text can be found here.

This is the first of the five articles of the chapter, treating of political atheism. The remaining articles will be posted serially over the next few days.


CHAPTER FIVE
On the mutual relations between Church and State

The nature of the Catholic Church having been set forth, and its power, consequently it remains to speak of the mutual relations existing between the Church and the civil State. And indeed it is proper to the Catholic Church, that it have members in every part of the world, and thus would rule over subjects of all nations; whence it comes about, that its power is found in intimate relation with civil States. It is necessary, therefore, that we speak of these mutual relations between the Church and the civil State. Indeed it is a difficult subject, not by its nature, but on account of the injustice of times and the malice of men. But that we might plainly determine the aforesaid relations, we begin from more remote principles, inquiring firstly of political atheism: whether indeed the political State thus is able to conduct itself as if no religion existed, and as if God did not exist;—secondly, of liberty of conscience, as they call it;—thirdly, of liberty of cult;—fourthly, of liberty of teaching;fifthly, of the subordination of the State to the Church.

FIRST ARTICLE
On political atheism

I. The notion of political atheism. Earlier in our treatise we distinguished atheism into the species of theoretical and practical, insofar as either the existence of God is positively denied, or life is conducted as if God did not exist. In this second sense do we inquire concerning political atheism. For the elements of society are two: the governing element, in which there rests social authority, and the governed element, or the subjects, who are ordered by the ruler to the common good. And with respect to the governing element—whether he be called a prince, or is called by another name—is he able, in the drawing up of laws, in their execution, or in exercising judiciary power, to act as if God did not exist, and consequently to have no regard for divine laws, whether natural or positive? Behold the question.

II. The principles of political atheism. To the question proposed, the political atheist responds affirmatively; it is not difficult to assign the erroneous principles from which it is logically inferred, for they are both designated and proscribed many times in the lauded Syllabus, delivered by the authority of our most holy lord Pope Pius IX. Accordingly, whether the existence of God is denied; or, as with pantheism, his nature is confounded with the nature of the world; or, the existence of God having been posited, His divine providence is denied—God is always excluded from the world, such that «any action of God upon men and the world is to be denied» (Prop. II).

From this it follows, 1° that «Human reason, having no regard at all for God, is the single arbiter of the true and false, good and evil; it is a law unto itself, and suffices, by its natural powers, for procuring the good of men and peoples» (Prop. III).

— 2° Thus, «They derive all truths of religion from the native force of human reason; hence reason is the chief norm by which man may be able and ought to arrive at knowledge of all the truths of any sort of knowledge whatsoever» (Prop. IV).

— 3° Therefore «the laws of morals by no means require divine sanction, and it is not at all necessary, that human laws should be conformed to the law of nature, or that they should receive binding force from God» (Prop. LVI).

— 4° Therefore «Knowledge of philosophic and moral matters, and likewise civil laws, are able and ought to decline from divine and ecclesiastical authority» (Prop. LVII).

— 5° «Therefore the State, as the origin and font of all rights, enjoys a certain right circumscribed by no bounds» (Prop. XXXIX).

— 6° Therefore «right consists in material fact, and all duties of men are a hollow name, and all human deeds have the force of right» (Prop. LIX).

— 7° Therefore «the chance injustice of a deed causes no harm to the sanctity of right» (Prop. LXI).

— 8° Therefore «Authority is nothing other than the sum of number and material powers» (Prop. LX).

Errors of this sort, as anyone may see, are connected: for from the denial of God, descending, one arrives at materialism, and material force is opposed to individual right, and the despotism of the stronger to social right. Behold political atheism, both in its principles, and in its inferences proved by fact itself. Bayle, with whom Voltaire himself disagreed concerning this matter, dreamt of an atheistic society; Rousseau, for the most part, consented to Bayle in Book IV, ch. 7 of the Social Contract; both are more or less followed by those politicians who argue for the absolute separation of the State from the Church. Against all these, the conclusion is set forth:

III. Political atheism is absurd. It is proved. Political atheism dissolves society itself: because it is directly opposed so much to the end as to the essential elements of society. Therefore political atheism is absurd. — The antecedent is proved.

It is directly opposed to the end of society. The end of society is the perfection of the citizens, to be obtained through means which each and every person is not able to have from himself, and has from society; which perfection consists chiefly in the knowledge of one’s proper duties, and in the virtue by which those duties are carried out. But we have proved (32, IV) that the more principal duties of religion are the foundation of all other duties.[1] Therefore in society, and from society, the citizens principally ought to have the means by which they might carry out the duties of religion. But political atheism is either the denial of those things which pertain to religion, or at least an indifference and carelessness concerning the same, as it indeed defines itself. Therefore political atheism is directly opposed to the more principal end of human society. Wherefore Rousseau himself, in the text cited, against Bayle and indeed against himself, acknowledges that never was there any State founded, the basis of which was not religion. But if religion is the basis of society, then, religion having been expelled, it is necessary that human society should collapse.

It is opposed to the essential elements of society. The elements of this sort, as has been said, are the sovereign and the subjects: the former commands; the latter should be subject to him by the laws. Again, according to the hypothesis of political atheism, social authority depends upon no moral foundation and has no reason for existing. And this is indeed the case. Social authority is not the sum of number and material powers (51, V), but is something essentially moral, claiming for itself the right of ruling the human multitude. And thus it is not from the individual reason, to which no command or authority belongs of itself over other men, nor from an impersonal source, which is something abstract and fantastical, but is immediately from God, as a derivation or participation of the divine authority (ibid. IV). Therefore, political authority is not able to call itself atheistic, lest by this very act it necessarily and essentially negate itself. — The same result comes to pass if social authority were considered with respect to setting forth laws. For civil laws are naught except either proclamations of the law of nature, or determinations of that law of nature (25, VIII): but the law of nature is nothing other than a participation of the eternal law, from which every other law has its force. In consequence, political atheism is the denial of authority in itself; it is the denial of human legislation, which is null, for according to this hypothesis, it has no moral force to obligate. — Finally it should be added, that political authority, if it removes in whatever degree from God, should be said to depend on nothing other than itself. But this is State-theism, or, as it is called in the vulgar tongue, il Dio Stato, which in fact is able to be nothing other than the individual reason or will of rulers, governed not by a moral and superior principle, but by the force of arms and a supremely powerful ruler. Evidently, in political atheism, human society is not ruled by moral authority, but by the will and violence of individual reason, in that manner by which brute animals are governed.

The same conclusion is entirely proved, if we should consider the subjects. For these are men, that is, moral beings, to be directed in their course not through violence, but through law. Seeing, therefore, that the political authority professing atheism depends upon no moral principle, and the laws drawn up by it rest upon no principle superior to the individual reason, the citizens, reasoning in an ad hominem manner (L.41, XI), are not able to consider the authority as morally superior to themselves, and its laws as having the force of moral obligation; but they oppose individual reason to the individual reason of the one ruling. There remains the material force which prevails in the ruler; but material force is not a social bond of men; thereon to be shunned by means of ill will, no indeed, it is able to be overcome; and thus, by means of force, impious and foolish sovereigns are able to rob majesty from the citizens, which majesty they abuse against God. And so it happens that political authority, rising up against God in a most impious manner, sees its subjects rising up against itself.

I do not speak of the impiety of political atheism: for this is clear in itself. For if it is impious, that a citizen deny to God the duties of religion, it is most impious among those who rule society. For these latter are men, and so are obliged to fulfill those things which are man’s for God; they are rulers, and so ought to lead the way for all their subjects in the example of virtue and religion; they are for the good of society, and so ought not to subvert or subordinate religion, but ought, with all their powers, to promote it, so that men might not draw detriment from society—from which they have the right of aspiring to moral perfection—in those things which chiefly look to perfection, that is, religion and the eternal salvation of the soul.


NOTES

[1] Zigliara here makes reference to earlier sections in the Ethica (lib. I, cap. 1, a. III no. III; cap. 2, a. I, no. IV) where, treating of right, duties, and religion considered in itself as a virtue, he writes:

«III. Nevertheless, in a created moral person, duty is more prior than right. And in fact, the first thing which is found in an existing man (and the same is said of any other created moral person) is the creaturely esse, which essentially implies a dependence, physical as well as moral, upon the Creator, so that the creature might observe the laws of the Creator, pursuing faithfully the order to the end set in place by Him. This primitive and essential duty having been posited, there spring forth the rights of preserving and defending life, of employing means necessary for perfecting themselves and for achieving their end, and others of this sort; but, that primitive and essential duty having been removed, all rights crumble because destitute of rational foundation: which is also clear from other quarters from the things said before (29, II). Whence that is to be retained as an unshaken principle: Human rights proceed from duties toward God.

[…] IV. The duties of religion are the chiefest duties, and are the foundation of all duties. This proposition is the corollary of the preceding. For the duties of religion emerge from the very essence of man, and from the very essence of God, as we have proved in no. II. Therefore they are the chiefest. — In addition, God having been removed by hypothesis, there also perishes by that very fact the reason for any duty whatsoever. Therefore religion, which implies an ordering to God, as has been said, is the foundation of all duties. Let St. Thomas be heard, who, by reason of the end to which the virtues are ordered, infers that religion is preeminent among the other moral virtues, and consequently that the duties of religion are chief among all our other duties: “Those things which are for an end, draw their goodness from the order to the end; and thus, however much they are nearer to the end, so much are they better. But the moral virtues, as has been said above, are concerned with those things which are ordered to God, as to an end. But religion approaches more nearly to God than the other moral virtues, insofar as it works those things which directly and immediately are ordered to the divine honor. And thus religion is preeminent among the other moral virtues” (ST IIaIIæ, q. 81, a. 7).»