This is another brief break in the "Blind and the Blind" series. Although I am a staunch supporter of reducing the paternalistic trends of the past in regards to missions, Mr. McCaughey makes some very important points in this article:
http://brandonmccaughey.blogspot.com/2007/02/let-buyer-beware.html
In running too far from the one problem, namely being enlightened white-men saving the heathen savages with our civilized Gospel (missionary colonialism, if you will), we must beware beginning another harmful trend: missionary neo-colonialism.
My essay is due to resume soon. I wonder if my readers can guess where we are headed next? Remember, unless otherwise indicated, the opinions expressed in "The Blind and the Blind" are not necessarily my own, in fact, I question many of them myself.
But now, I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this article, as, I'm sure, is Mr. McCaughey.
-- Corineus the Galatian
P.S.: Ironically, I'm typing this from a computer in Jules Ferry School. Président Ferry was a leading proponent of "la mission civilisatrice", that is, "the civilizing mission" of (white) France towards the rest of the world (e.g. Indochina, Algeria, &c.).
08 February 2007
19 January 2007
Addendum: it is distinctly possible that experimental science was actually born in somebody’s garage, rather than any institution of higher learning (as previously stated). Universities always like to take credit for “scholarship” but some of the greatest discoveries have often come about when people have too much time on their hands and are goofing around with dangerous substances. I mean, have you ever wondered how the ancient people of South America finally discovered that, after enough selective breeding, a potato wasn’t poisonous? Who was crazy enough to take that first dare and actually climb up onto the horse (I’m guessing his name was something like “Ari”, an early form of “Leroy”)? Or how about this fateful but forgotten scene from the Bacon household:
“Frank, for the last time, stop transmuting that old piece of junk and come inside right now; the goose is getting cold!”
“Frank, for the last time, stop transmuting that old piece of junk and come inside right now; the goose is getting cold!”
15 January 2007
The Blind and the Blind, continued
[author's note: Like its predecessor, this is only a fragment of a larger essay that is being written and published in segments. It is not meant to be treated as a complete essay in itself, although the author welcomes all savvy criticism by his friends, colleagues and even strangers. In order to better appreciate the whole, as much as possible considering that the essay is not, as yet, published in its entirety, the author invites his readers to start at the beginning of the essay and read through to the end of the latest post as this is the manner in which it is intended to be best enjoyed. Bon appetit !]
“How now, who’s that which snatched the meat from me?”
-- the Pope, “The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus”, scene 7 (Marlowe)
So, to recapitulate a little: the reason that the Enlightenment is upheld as the great distinction between the West and the Islamic World (a.k.a. the East) – between “us” and “them” – is because one of the most important concepts that emerged from Enlightenment philosophy is that of the “separation of Church and State”, that is, Jefferson’s so-called “wall of separation” that would prevent a single religious faction from using the State as a vehicle for oppression.
To Be European
The European experience (excluding, as usual, the Byzantine and Slavic east) has been indelibly marked by Christianity (and, with it, the existence of the Roman papacy) and a longstanding struggle between the religious and the secular. This is not to say that similar struggles have not taken place elsewhere, but perhaps nowhere has the foundry been heated as much and for as long as in places like France, Spain, Italy, Germany, the British Isles and the Low Countries from which fervent flames Enlightenment philosophy was born. The states of western, central and northern Europe were born from the struggle between Prince and Pope and even if they did, like Spain, tend to side politically with Rome, they nevertheless used it as a way to establish a distinct identity vis-à-vis their more rebellious neighbors and centralize power within the confines of this developing geopolitical entity called the State. The notion of Christendom was no longer as straight-forward as it had been, at least in theory, when the likes of Innocent III and other power-glutted Cluniacs were running rough-shod over the crowns of Europe.
Again I say that, in one form or another, Christianity has played a defining role in European history, indeed, in defining what it means to be European. As a Christian myself and as someone of European descent, it is difficult for me to remain entirely detached in this matter. I read once that as many as one-third of western Europeans could be descended in some way, however indirectly, from Charlemagne. The Battle of White Mountain meant something very profound to my ancestors at one time in history, even if their descendents eventually forgot it. When the lords of the Picts exchanged their druids for Columba’s monks, even if my ancestors were more concerned with breeding sheep and brewing beer at the time, they were there nonetheless. If I don’t have any Bogomils in my family tree, it wasn’t because there weren’t any around. This isn’t just something that may have happened a long time ago in a far away place – this is to be European.
The philosophers of the Enlightenment – such ilk as Descartes, Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, Locke, Hume, Smith, Kant and Hegel, among others – fit closely into this European context and it remains a matter of debate as to whether or not they can truly be removed therefrom. They looked behind them, through the imperfect lens of recorded history, and saw something very much like what I have previously described: a “Christian” epoch defined by theocratic tyranny, violent religious fanaticism, blind superstition, trivial dogmatism and, amid it all, horrible yet preventable suffering on a massive scale. It is hardly surprising that they were repulsed, as well they should have been, I think, upon viewing matters in such terms. That is, of course, to presuppose something about human nature, i.e. an innate sense of right and wrong, which was as much a matter of philosophical debate in the eighteenth century as it is now, but, to play the idealistic American, I’ll let it slide for the present, leaving it to be analyzed some other time.
Feeling their oats as educated sages hoping to contribute something of lasting value to this “humanity” of which they thought so highly, the Enlightenment philosophers looked to republican and Augustan Rome and to Athens in their quest for a better world governed by Reason and temperance. Standing at the vantage point of Cicero, Aristotle, Xeno and of all their learned colleagues from the bygone golden ages of Classical Antiquity, the Enlightenment philosophers beheld an appalling scourge of cultural decadence that came to infest both the Greek and the Roman cultures and that coïncided with an increased interest in mysticism and the afterlife. Between Cicero, with his celebrated meditations on “the good life”, and their own time the Enlightenment philosophers perceived a gulf – a yawning chasm rather – filled with raw sewage, enslaved masses, penitential mortification, witch burnings and the blood of countless victims of holy war. These were the “Middle Ages”. Historian Edward Gibbon famously concluded that the adoption of Christianity by Constantine and his successors precipitated, to a large extent, the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. The image of Gibbon sitting among the ruins of the Roman forum, his contemplation rudely interrupted by the clanging of church bells is indeed an excellent metaphor of the pervading view of history during the Enlightenment. Indeed, the problem of “the fall of Rome” is intimately associated with the thought of both the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, that is, with “modernity” as it is now contrasted with “post-modernity”.
An Unexpected Eulogy
Before I leave this well-trodden highway and strike out into the wild woods of intellectual heresy where I plan to remain for the rest of this blog, let me give a brief eulogy, devoid pro tempore of all sarcasm, to a band of truly wise and learned men that I have come to deeply respect and admire, even if I believe them to have been gravely mistaken on certain points and even if they were all, simply, men.
When I was younger and had both lived, thought, prayed and studied less, I used to despise the philosophers of the Enlightenment. How could they have been so blind and conceited as to reject out of hand the reality of the supernatural, I wondered (oversimplifying matters tremendously)? Indeed, I did not fault them so much as I did their contemporary followers, for context can be brought to the defense of the former more readily, perhaps, than it can the latter. I suppose that I still hold this opinion to a certain degree, however, the more I read Descartes, for example, the more I see in his discourse the exasperated words of Solomon in the Book of Ecclesiastes. Likewise, it is difficult to blame Voltaire’s globetrotting character Candide for resolving, in the end, to content himself with his garden. It is hard for me, as a lover of the simple life, not to be enticed by the naïvité of the world imagined by Rousseau. Living in France near the birthplace of Montaigne, as I am at this writing, I have come to appreciate the exasperation with religion that ultimately feeds agnosticism, for, indeed, if it really is possible to know G-d, then why is there such scant evidence that anyone ever has? Finally, if ever I reach the end of this gargantuan essay and you, my patient reader, are able to look back upon it in its entirety, I hope that there can be no doubt as to my indebtedness to Hegel and the wisdom of his dialectic approach.
Therefore, I sincerely salute the philosophers of the Enlightenment, and, by extension, the so-called Age of Reason for daring to think, for attempting to know and for seeking after wisdom, if indeed, that was their aim, and I believe that it was. I mourn their passing and I believe that I will have accomplished much in the course of my lifetime to match only half of the wisdom of any of these men.
Maintenant, je dis : « en garde ! »
[author's note: Like its predecessor, this is only a fragment of a larger essay that is being written and published in segments. It is not meant to be treated as a complete essay in itself, although the author welcomes all savvy criticism by his friends, colleagues and even strangers. In order to better appreciate the whole, as much as possible considering that the essay is not, as yet, published in its entirety, the author invites his readers to start at the beginning of the essay and read through to the end of the latest post as this is the manner in which it is intended to be best enjoyed. Bon appetit !]
“How now, who’s that which snatched the meat from me?”
-- the Pope, “The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus”, scene 7 (Marlowe)
So, to recapitulate a little: the reason that the Enlightenment is upheld as the great distinction between the West and the Islamic World (a.k.a. the East) – between “us” and “them” – is because one of the most important concepts that emerged from Enlightenment philosophy is that of the “separation of Church and State”, that is, Jefferson’s so-called “wall of separation” that would prevent a single religious faction from using the State as a vehicle for oppression.
To Be European
The European experience (excluding, as usual, the Byzantine and Slavic east) has been indelibly marked by Christianity (and, with it, the existence of the Roman papacy) and a longstanding struggle between the religious and the secular. This is not to say that similar struggles have not taken place elsewhere, but perhaps nowhere has the foundry been heated as much and for as long as in places like France, Spain, Italy, Germany, the British Isles and the Low Countries from which fervent flames Enlightenment philosophy was born. The states of western, central and northern Europe were born from the struggle between Prince and Pope and even if they did, like Spain, tend to side politically with Rome, they nevertheless used it as a way to establish a distinct identity vis-à-vis their more rebellious neighbors and centralize power within the confines of this developing geopolitical entity called the State. The notion of Christendom was no longer as straight-forward as it had been, at least in theory, when the likes of Innocent III and other power-glutted Cluniacs were running rough-shod over the crowns of Europe.
Again I say that, in one form or another, Christianity has played a defining role in European history, indeed, in defining what it means to be European. As a Christian myself and as someone of European descent, it is difficult for me to remain entirely detached in this matter. I read once that as many as one-third of western Europeans could be descended in some way, however indirectly, from Charlemagne. The Battle of White Mountain meant something very profound to my ancestors at one time in history, even if their descendents eventually forgot it. When the lords of the Picts exchanged their druids for Columba’s monks, even if my ancestors were more concerned with breeding sheep and brewing beer at the time, they were there nonetheless. If I don’t have any Bogomils in my family tree, it wasn’t because there weren’t any around. This isn’t just something that may have happened a long time ago in a far away place – this is to be European.
The philosophers of the Enlightenment – such ilk as Descartes, Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, Locke, Hume, Smith, Kant and Hegel, among others – fit closely into this European context and it remains a matter of debate as to whether or not they can truly be removed therefrom. They looked behind them, through the imperfect lens of recorded history, and saw something very much like what I have previously described: a “Christian” epoch defined by theocratic tyranny, violent religious fanaticism, blind superstition, trivial dogmatism and, amid it all, horrible yet preventable suffering on a massive scale. It is hardly surprising that they were repulsed, as well they should have been, I think, upon viewing matters in such terms. That is, of course, to presuppose something about human nature, i.e. an innate sense of right and wrong, which was as much a matter of philosophical debate in the eighteenth century as it is now, but, to play the idealistic American, I’ll let it slide for the present, leaving it to be analyzed some other time.
Feeling their oats as educated sages hoping to contribute something of lasting value to this “humanity” of which they thought so highly, the Enlightenment philosophers looked to republican and Augustan Rome and to Athens in their quest for a better world governed by Reason and temperance. Standing at the vantage point of Cicero, Aristotle, Xeno and of all their learned colleagues from the bygone golden ages of Classical Antiquity, the Enlightenment philosophers beheld an appalling scourge of cultural decadence that came to infest both the Greek and the Roman cultures and that coïncided with an increased interest in mysticism and the afterlife. Between Cicero, with his celebrated meditations on “the good life”, and their own time the Enlightenment philosophers perceived a gulf – a yawning chasm rather – filled with raw sewage, enslaved masses, penitential mortification, witch burnings and the blood of countless victims of holy war. These were the “Middle Ages”. Historian Edward Gibbon famously concluded that the adoption of Christianity by Constantine and his successors precipitated, to a large extent, the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. The image of Gibbon sitting among the ruins of the Roman forum, his contemplation rudely interrupted by the clanging of church bells is indeed an excellent metaphor of the pervading view of history during the Enlightenment. Indeed, the problem of “the fall of Rome” is intimately associated with the thought of both the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, that is, with “modernity” as it is now contrasted with “post-modernity”.
An Unexpected Eulogy
Before I leave this well-trodden highway and strike out into the wild woods of intellectual heresy where I plan to remain for the rest of this blog, let me give a brief eulogy, devoid pro tempore of all sarcasm, to a band of truly wise and learned men that I have come to deeply respect and admire, even if I believe them to have been gravely mistaken on certain points and even if they were all, simply, men.
When I was younger and had both lived, thought, prayed and studied less, I used to despise the philosophers of the Enlightenment. How could they have been so blind and conceited as to reject out of hand the reality of the supernatural, I wondered (oversimplifying matters tremendously)? Indeed, I did not fault them so much as I did their contemporary followers, for context can be brought to the defense of the former more readily, perhaps, than it can the latter. I suppose that I still hold this opinion to a certain degree, however, the more I read Descartes, for example, the more I see in his discourse the exasperated words of Solomon in the Book of Ecclesiastes. Likewise, it is difficult to blame Voltaire’s globetrotting character Candide for resolving, in the end, to content himself with his garden. It is hard for me, as a lover of the simple life, not to be enticed by the naïvité of the world imagined by Rousseau. Living in France near the birthplace of Montaigne, as I am at this writing, I have come to appreciate the exasperation with religion that ultimately feeds agnosticism, for, indeed, if it really is possible to know G-d, then why is there such scant evidence that anyone ever has? Finally, if ever I reach the end of this gargantuan essay and you, my patient reader, are able to look back upon it in its entirety, I hope that there can be no doubt as to my indebtedness to Hegel and the wisdom of his dialectic approach.
Therefore, I sincerely salute the philosophers of the Enlightenment, and, by extension, the so-called Age of Reason for daring to think, for attempting to know and for seeking after wisdom, if indeed, that was their aim, and I believe that it was. I mourn their passing and I believe that I will have accomplished much in the course of my lifetime to match only half of the wisdom of any of these men.
Maintenant, je dis : « en garde ! »
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