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Academic writing Christian-government dynamics in europe to 1600 |
This essay is a slightly more elaborate version of a piece I wrote in the winter of
2007 at the request of my
brother-in-law, Alan Singer, a professor at Hofstra University who
wanted to
use it for a graduate class project in one of his Education courses and then publish it in a social science journal (Docket) that he edits. To tackle such a vast
topic within a 5-page
limit is a fool’s errand, but family is family, and it gave me an
excuse to have
a good time putting together ideas that interest me with the freedom
not to worry about how much I'm generalizing.
Given the constraints, I’m happy with the result.
Interdependence of sacred
and secular authority Religion (embrace of a metaphysical
realm relevant
to daily and long-term human well-being), whether “official” (an
“established”
spiritual authority) or independent (a tolerated or rebellious sect),
and
government (any authority that seeks to bind disparate humans into a
harmonious
group) have always been interdependent, sometimes reinforcing each
other but
more often contending for power. Sometimes the two have been fused into
a
single social authority, as with ruling priesthoods or the Anglican
church in
England. Anthropological and archaeological studies suggest that no
grouping of
human beings has ever been without some kind of religious belief, which
probably starts as a response to the seeming hostility and randomness
of
natural forces and produces fundamental cultural and moral
expectations. Secular and sacred powers have
typically insisted
that a divine hand guides human affairs, sometimes for better,
sometimes for
worse: divinity rewards a virtuous society with military victory or
prosperity,
punishes a morally lax society with military defeat or disease or
natural
catastrophe. Judaeo-Christian history followed this pattern, at least
until the
Enlightenment and its sometimes implicit, sometimes explicit
challenging of
religious authority. Monarchic rule has traditionally invoked divine
legitimacy; rebels, defining tyrants as instruments of God’s wrath,
have no
less insisted that God requires a tyrant’s overthrow. Invasion and
colonizing
of rival nations have been in the name of the attacker’s divinity, even
when
the victims claim the same divinity. Political content is always
implicit in religious
practice. Until relatively recently, the Catholic Church invoked both
sacred
and secular authority to crush heresy, often with violence. The history
of the
papacy is filled with internal power struggles and schisms resulting
from
private agendas as readily as theological nuances. The Reformation saw
protracted struggles between ruling elites and established or insurgent
religious forces along with mutual massacres among people all of whom
called
themselves Christian. Spanish colonization of the New World and
exploitation of
its natives created ongoing debates and sometimes armed conflicts that
put
different religious adherents on opposing sides when addressing how
colonies
should be managed or how native people should be treated. Oppressed
Protestant
groups fled England only to create religious governments that oppressed
those
with whom the new theocracies disagreed. Contemporary European, North
American
and Middle Eastern nations or groups continue to intermingle religious
agendas
with political goals. Christianity
under the Roman Empire Under the Empire the religious role
of Pontifex
Maximus was usually held by the current emperor (fusing religious and
political
leadership) until the legitimization of Christianity a few centuries
later, at
which point popes filled this role. In its first three centuries, the
Catholic
(=“universal”) Church was a minority, often subversive, force within
the
Empire. Numerous Christians, faced with official demands to affirm
allegiance
to Rome, refused, and their resulting martyrdom only increased
credibility and
respect for the new sect. With the Edict of Milan in 313 Emperor
Constantine,
freshly victorious in wars over who was the rightful emperor, declared
toleration for Christianity. In 380, seeking
to undo the split of the Empire into East (the foundation of today’s
Orthodox
Church, seated in Constantinople) and West (what became the Roman
Catholic
Church, seated with some exceptions in Rome), Emperor Theodosius made the Christian
Church part of the government, though
the
Church “was
not established or even legitimized by this
imperial decree: the decree credit[ed] the Roman
Church with institutional functions…[so that the]
papacy…began to act as a proper governmental institution…by
means of the law.”[1] According
to R. W.
Southern, “from the time of Constantine
religious unity stemmed in the first place from political unity…if only
because
religious unity depended on some ultimate power of coercion. Hence all
future
medieval plans for the reunification of Christendom are fundamentally
plans for
political reintegration.”[2]
Theodosius’s reunification
lasted until his death fifteen years later, some 80 years before the
Empire
would fall to Germanic tribes. Walter Ullmann distinguishes two
broad approaches to
rulership in this period: the ascending theory in which rulers get
their
authority from below (implying the right of rebellion against a wicked
ruler)[3] and the descending theory
in which rulers’ authority comes from divine will.[4] Before the 11th
century, political behavior was minimally a function of theory and
largely a
response to current events.[5] No one spoke in terms of
“church” and “state” but of “government”[6], and the key assumption for
both clergy and laity was that “the undifferentiated Christian
religion was
not separated from politics, politics not separated from morals.”[7] Government and church
equally relied on scripture for governance, government using the Bible
as support
for secular policies, religion viewing government as enforcer of
scriptural
dictates.[8]
Although “[t]he
imperial
government could have no separation from Christianity,…[t]o
the emperor it was
the Roman empire, pure and simple, which had become Christian; to the pope this
same body was the
Church (comprising clergy and laity) which happened to be
the Roman empire.”[9] The
Middle
Ages To R. W. Southern, the medieval
Church was itself a
version of a state, having “all
the
apparatus of the state: laws and law courts, taxes and tax-collectors, a
great administrative machine, power
of life and death over the citizens of Christendom and their enemies within and
without.”[10]
Indeed, the medieval church “was much
more than a state.
In the first place
it was not, and could never be simply, a state
among many: it had
to be the state or none at all…. Whether in the hands of pope,
emperor, king, or community, the purpose of human
government was to direct
men into a single Christian path.”[11]
Southern identifies three time
periods for the
medieval church: the “primitive
age” (c. 700-c. 1050), the “age of growth” (c. 1050-c. 1300) and the “age
of unrest” (c. 1300-c. 1550). The first stage is typified by ignorance,
violence, administrative impotence, and generally “barbaric” (I put
this in
quotes because one nation’s barbarism is another’s civilization)
behavior.
People had little confidence in local, regional and “national” leaders,
whom
they viewed as exploitative and ineffective. As a result, government
was
dependent on the Church for legitimacy. The second
stage
includes the rift between eastern and western churches in the years
surrounding
1054, the investiture controversy (1075-1122), and the Christian
crusades
(mainly 1095-1291), a complex interaction between Church and government
beyond
my current scope. This was “the high point of Church influence and
power in
European society, but it also saw ecclesiastical decline.” Because of
its near monopoly on literacy, the Church continued to have
intimate involvement with law and government administration.
But changes during this period also encouraged expanding
secular power. “For the
first time in its
history, Western Europe became an area of surplus population and
surplus productivity.”[12]
Scorned by
canon law as late as the early twelfth
century, trade, because “the growing
needs of society produced more
elaborate forms of commercial organization,” required new thinking
by Church
lawyers.[13]
Europe
became assertive
and aggressive, pushing its
boundaries into new spheres toward the south and east. “An active and
blood-thirsty sense of superiority took the place of the fear and resentment towards the
outside world,” demanding
revision of the principle still active at the Battle of Hastings in
1066 that
even in war killing was a grievous sin.[14]
On the Church’s side, as the 13th century
progressed popes stressed
their “supreme political no less than ecclesiastical power”; the Church
was to
exercise spiritual authority directly, while kings and princes were to
exercise
secular power on the Church’s behalf. [15]
(An interesting example was the right of Church courts to try, and have
the
option to torture, accused heretics, while secular authority was
responsible
for carrying out the punishment, often burning, of the guilty.) In the third stage—which included a devastating famine from 1315-1322[16] and, in the mid-14th century, the worst visitation by the Black Death in its centuries-long presence in Europe—“secular and sacred authorities continued to rely on each other, but power and independence shifted to the State [a relatively new concept], with rulers turning to the Church for support as it suited them.”[17] Rulers often openly resisted papal pronouncements and battled for control over church appointments. Leaders of Italian cities and states “looked on the pope as a potential ally or enemy, to be dealt with in political rather than religious terms.”[18] Europeans “could see that secular governments…were growing in strength and independence, and this cast doubt on the relevance, and then on the validity, of elaborate theories of papal overlordship, universal rule, and sacerdotal supremacy.”[19] The
just war
and relations with non-Christians An expanding Europe in the
later middle ages created a growing need to re-define acceptable
violence
against “enemies” within a nation, elsewhere in Europe, or outside
Europe.
Inevitably, such justifications relied on Christians having (a) the one
true
faith and (b) a religious duty to convert those who did not. During the
schism
of 1054 (or thereabouts: historians vary), a papal representative wrote
to the
eastern patriarch that “[a]ny nation which dissented from Rome was
nothing but
a confabulation of heretics, a conventical of schismatics, a synagogue
of
Satan.” Having cited these words and more, R.W. Southern comments, “I
do not
think that language quite like this had ever been used before.”[20]
This tone, however, is indicative of evolving attitudes in succeeding
centuries. The case for the papal
crusades against Islam was easy: Muslims had usurped the territory of
Christ,
and the Church had a right to muster all Europe’s military might to
take it
back. [21]
But the
crusades were just one manifestation of sacred and secular expansion.
Starting
in the mid-13th century, the Church began
developing the idea of the
just war, a discussion boiling down to
when-and-how-can-Christians-justify-butting-into-someone-else’s-business.
Exact
answers varied, but always assumed the primacy of Church authority.
James
Muldoon explains two alternative positions—those of Pope Innocent IV
(1243-54),
a lawyer, and a student of his known as Hostiensis—that “paralleled the
better-known debates among the canonists about the respective roles of
the
spiritual and the temporal powers within Christian society.”[22]
The two views agreed “that Christians could lawfully invade and subdue
an
infidel society; they differed on the grounds that would justify the
invasion”[23]
While Hostiensis insisted that regal legitimacy came only via
ecclesiastical
validation,[24]
Innocent
saw the papal role as supportive of autonomous rulers whose authority,
Christian or non-Christian, came directly from God with the pope having “‘jurisdiction
and power over
infidels de iure but not de
facto.’” For Innocent, the pope’s responsibility was to make
sure that all
nations obeyed “natural law” (according of course to
papal definition).
“The policy stressed missionary, not diplomatic and military, contacts,
the
infidels’ conversion, not their martial situation.”[25] During the next couple of
centuries variants on these views emerged. One argument insisted that
Christian
rulers could act against infidels within their own borders,[26]
another that if a secular Christian ruler failed to enforce natural law
against
infidels (such as Jews) he (I’m unaware of female rulers in the middle
ages)
could be tried in ecclesiastical courts,[27]
and a third that secular rulers could “intervene in the affairs of
infidel
rulers without first requesting papal permission.”[28] European
treatment of non-Christians within Europe Such attitudes informed
behavior towards non-Christians both within and outside Europe.
Discussing
religious and secular authorities’ treatment of minorities (lepers,
Jews and
Muslims), primarily in the 14th century, David
Nirenberg contends
that “violence against minorities, however motivated by irrational
hatred,…only
gained meaning and usefulness for contemporaries in the context of much
broader
social conflicts, ideologies, and discourses.”[29]
As much as rulers might prey upon minorities, they also protected them.
For
Jews, royal protection could be simultaneously redeeming and
marginalizing.
“The great majority of Jews depended directly on the king,”[30]
so that physical attacks on Jews were “violence against the
representatives of
justice.”[31]
Reciprocally, targeting Jews, as during the so-called Shepherds’
Crusade of
1320, which consisted largely of the poor, meant “both attacking a
much-resented aspect of administrative kingship and dramatizing the
state's
inability to protect its agents, the Jews.”[32]
Religious and secular
authorities alike used religious ritual to oppress minorities. During
Holy Week
(between Palm Sunday and the day before Easter), for example,
committing
violence against Jews was a way “in which the sacred was physically
experienced
and relations of power were criticized.”[33]
Nonetheless, secular Holy Week violence targeted not only Jews but also
Christian officials who protected them. Nirenberg devotes
considerable discussion to regulation of sexuality as part of
regulating
minorities. A natural crisis like famine, drought or plague “was
thought to be
a punishment for the moral failings of a community and its
individuals.” In
response to a famine in Valencia in 1335, for example, the municipal
council
blamed sinful activity among Muslims, Jews, and Christians, “namely,
sexual
liaisons between Christians and Muslims, as well as sodomy between
Muslims.”[34] European
treatment of non-Christians outside Europe: conquest, colonization and
trade Starting in 1415, often bankrolled
by Italian
interests, the Portuguese and, later in the century, the Spanish, began
testing
the seagoing limits of the world they knew. With papal sanction,
subjugation or
colonization of “new” territories began based on previous European
colonizing
experiences. Tribal societies in West Africa, in Atlantic island groups
like
the Canaries, and in the Americas (even the large Aztec and Inca
civilizations)
could not withstand Portuguese or Spanish gunpowder, horses, steel, and
most of
all, European diseases. In such contexts conquering (at least in
retrospect)
was inevitable, though not always easy. On the other hand, in West
Africa the
Portuguese learned quickly to avoid the interior because of its
diseases, and
although Europeans viewed all non-Christians they encountered as
inferiors,
they rarely tried to subjugate the more sophisticated societies of East
Africa
and the Asian coast that might successfully compete with European
military
capability. By the early 15th
century, “[w]here
the papacy had once been at the center
of contacts between Christian and non-Christian societies,…the
initiative for
contacts with
‘infidels’ now came from
secular states anxious to expand their domains.”[35]
National interests were increasingly defined by the demands of trade.
The
responsibility to spread Christianity became only one of multiple
concerns, and
the papal role was increasingly limited to mediation
between expansionary Christian states—though in the
process popes did
manage to get Christian conquerors to agree to protect missionaries. Portuguese motives for exploration
of the African
coast appear initially to have been economic—to find a sea route around
Africa
and then on to Asia to bypass the long and expensive overland trade
route for
cherished Asian commodities, to expand Asian markets (and any other
discovered
along the way), to find natural resources, especially gold, and, by
1441, to
traffic in West African slaves. Explorers also sought “glory”—renown,
respect,
titles—and wealth (first gold, then, in Spanish and Portuguese America,
land,
preferably with the right to an unpaid indigenous labor force). “During
the
exploration and conquest of Africa and the island chains of the
Atlantic, the
Portuguese and the Castilians informed the papacy of their activities
in
traditional rhetorical forms that stressed their desire to spread the
word of
God. They acted, however, according to their own dynastic interests,
seeking
papal approval for courses of action already undertaken.”[36] For Columbus, conversion is a
frequent theme, but so
are gold, natural resources, manpower and enough wealth to finance a
new
crusade to capture Jerusalem. On the day he first sights American
land, he
writes of the people he observes: “They ought to
be good servants and of good skill, for I see that they repeat
very quickly whatever
was said to them. I believe that
they would easily be made Christians, because it seemed
to me that they belonged to no religion.”[37] Two days later
he notes that the natives pose no military threat, that he has
kidnapped
several of them, and (a kind of conclusion to a syllogism) that the
natives
should be enslaved.[38]
Three weeks after that, referring to expulsion of the Jews earlier that
year (right after
the end of the 700-year campaign
against Islamic Spain), he appeals to
the Spanish monarchs to apply to the Indians the same draconian methods
(“‘as
you have destroyed those who would not seek
to confess the Father, Son and Holy Ghost’”).[39]
(The provenance and hence reliability of Columbus’s journal is a
textual
nightmare; the first version we have is roughly 50 years after his
death.) Columbus’s contemporaries have
similar disdain for
the “Indians.” In Jamaica during Columbus’s second voyage, the Genoese
“gentleman” Michele de Cuneo describes a confrontation with local
inhabitants
who throw stones at the Spaniards. As if disciplining a disobedient
dog,
conquistadors kill a couple of dozen natives in a one-sided fight,
after which
Cuneo rapes a local woman (whom he “captured” and to whom Columbus
magnanimously granted Cuneo title) whom he whips when she resists and
then
contemns as a whore for yielding to him.[40]
Trying to retain a semblance of
influence, the
papacy engaged with imperial powers, as with the issuance of the
Spanish Requerimiento
in 1512 (its use ceased in the 1540s), which “contained a statement of
Christian beliefs and an explanation of the Spanish presence in the
Americas.
Before troops launched an attack on infidels, a priest was to read the
document
to them.”[41]
This
document was in Latin and read to uncomprehending (or absent) natives,
but
“[t]he point of the Requerimiento…was that the
infidels did have
dominium and that the Spanish had to justify their invasion by
demonstrating
the unwillingness of the Indians to admit peaceful missionaries. Thus,
the Requerimiento
demonstrated the Castilians’ reliance upon Innocent IV's views on the
rights of
infidels…”[42] The
half-century after Columbus’s voyages caps “[t]wo and a
half centuries
of legal and papal thinking about the responsibility
of the pope for the souls of all men and about the right
of
non-Christians to govern themselves free of outside interference.”[43]
While motives
for Spanish conquistadors and those who followed them in the New
World—wealth,
glory, and the spread of Christianity, with the order of importance
varying
among historians—the divine and the civil, Christianity and empire,
were always
interdependent. “The sixteenth-century Castilians saw themselves as a
chosen,
and therefore a superior, people, entrusted with a divine
mission…[with]
universal empire as its goal. The highest and most responsible duty of
Castile
was to uphold and extend the faith, bringing conquered people a
civilized and
Christian way of life (the two were regarded as synonymous)…”[44] The
Reformation Politics and faith intermingled in
the split between
Catholicism and the variety of Protestant sects that spread across
sixteenth-century Europe. Most of the criticisms of Catholicism that
produced
the division were not new but reached a flash point in 1517 when the
monk
Martin Luther posted his 95 theses at Wittenberg. “Obedience” being a
key
virtue, Protestant
reformers insisted they were
not disobedient revolutionaries but traditional Christians returning
the church
to some pristine era before Catholic corruption—a condition that began,
depending on the critic, any time from the death of Christ to the High
Middle
Ages. To many, social reform was inseparable from religious. In Germany
in the
early 1520s, for example, peasants, taking Luther’s views about
Christian
“freedom” as repudiation of secular oppression, rebelled only to feel
betrayed
when Luther, himself born a peasant but with no interest in civil
rebellion,
opposed their taking up arms. Widespread slaughter in the name of
true Christianity was rampant
across Europe for the next century and a half—in some cases it has
continued to
the present day—initially between Catholics and Protestants but soon
between
contending Protestant sects as well. While the Reformation was a general
time of turmoil,
polemics, violence, and national upheavals, the English reformation was
the
only reform movement driven from above and with the goal of fusing
state and
church. In the later middle ages, well before the Reformation, England
had been
the foremost European nation to challenge papal authority over local
rule,[45] and although
the popular image
is that Henry VIII (reigned 1509-1547), desperate for a male heir, turned
England to
Anglicanism so he could divorce his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, in
fact
Henry’s England was part of this long history of tension between papal
influence and aspirations for national independence from Church
authority. Four years after Luther posted his
95 theses, Henry
attached his name to a Catholic tract condemning Luther, earning from
the Pope
the title “Defender of the Faith,” a title which all succeeding English
monarchs have retained despite its origin. But in part because of the
divorce
issue, by the late 1520s pressure for change was mounting. Without
sanction
from the papacy, Henry divorced Catherine and in early 1533 married
Anne
Boleyn. The English Church officially separated from Rome in 1534.
Other
motives, however, reinforced the movement of events: many in the
English
establishment itched to join the continental reformers, and Henry used
the
outlawing of Catholicism as an excuse to seize the large and lucrative
network
of English monasteries. Anglican doctrine continued to
develop under the
regency of Henry’s son, Edward VI (1547-1553), but Edward’s sister,
Mary
(reigned 1553-1558), re-instituted Catholicism as the national faith. Prelates
who had
abandoned Catholicism came under pressure to return to it. Some did,
often to
be brought to some kind of account when Elizabeth (reigned 1558-1603) returned
the
nation to her father’s Anglicanism. But the opposition to Mary’s
Catholicism
was not just about religion. Although there was indeed considerable
desire in
the country to remain Protestant, there were also basic political
fears, as of
foreign domination when Mary married Philip II, Catholic monarch of
Spain (who
35 years later sent his ill-fated fleet, the Spanish Armada, against
the
England of Elizabeth, whose sins included rejecting the new widower
Philip as a
suitor). England’s bouncing in 25 years from Catholicism to Anglicanism to Catholicism and finally Anglicanism again produced moral crises for both secular and clerical Protestants. What would happen to your soul if you repudiated the anointed clergy who interceded with God on your behalf? What was your spiritual duty when you swore a holy oath to the Pope and then came to realize that Catholicism was the Antichrist? Where did your true loyalty and obedience lie when your religious conscience conflicted with loyalty to the reigning monarch? Over such dilemmas the Catholic Thomas More went to the block under Henry and numerous Protestants burned at the stake under Mary. The political heritage of the Anglican Reformation included the outlawing of priests, marginalization of secular Catholics, multiplication of Protestant sects, a civil war, regicide, an interregnum of theocratically based rule, and an extended history of rival claimants to the throne. References J. H. Elliott (1989). Spain
and Its World, 1500-1700: Selected Essays, New Haven, Conn.:
Yale
University Press. Samuel Eliot Morison, ed.
(1963). Journal and Other Documents on the Life and Voyages
of Christopher
Columbus, New York: The Heritage Press, 1963. James Muldoon (1979). Popes,
Lawyers, and Infidels the Church and the Non-Christian World, 1250-1550,
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. David Nirenberg (1996). Communities
of Violence: Persecution of Minorities in the Middle Ages,
Princeton:
Princeton University Press. R. W. Southern
(1970). Western Society and the Church in the Middle Ages,
Harmondsworth,
UK: Penguin
Books. Notes [1] Ullmann, 20. [2] Southern, 61. [3] Ullmann, 12. [4] Ullmann, 13. [5] Ullmann, 14. [6] Ullmann, 17. [7] Ullmann,
16. [8] Ullmann, 32. [9] Ullmann, 36, 38. [10] Southern, 18. [11] Southern, 21. [12] Southern, 35. [13] Southern, 40. [14] Southern, 35 [15] Southern, 143. [16] For an in-depth treatment
of this appalling period, see William Chester Jordan (1996), The
Great
Famine, Princeton: Princeton University Press. [17] Southern, 51. [18] Southern, 50. [19] Southern, 48. [20] Southern, 71. [21] Muldoon, 7. [22] Muldoon, 17. [22] Muldoon, 141. [24] Muldoon, 9-11. [25] Muldoon, 68. [26] Muldoon, 19. [27] Muldoon, 23. [28] Muldoon, 24. [29] Nirenberg, 43. [30] Nirenberg, 28. [31] Nirenberg,
footnote 60, p. 36. [32] Nirenberg, 50. [33] Nirenberg,
201. [34] Nirenberg,
142. [35] Muldoon, 105. [36] Muldoon, 133. [37] Morison, ed., 65. [38]
Morison, ed., 68. [39] Morison, ed., 91 [40] Morison, ed., 212. [41] Muldoon, 140. [42] Muldoon, 141. [43] Muldoon, 136. [44] Elliott, 9. [45] Southern, 50. |