Minggu, 08 Mei 2016

The Development of the Secular State in Latin Europe

The Development of the Secular State in Latin Europe

Prof., Dr. Tilman Nagel (Göttingen, Germany)


Quite often one hears that state and religion are inseparable in Islamic culture. This assertion largely corresponds to the historical realities that have developed in the Islamic world during its existence. Such a proposition does not constitute an analysis of the situation, however. The same can also apply to the thesis that the Modern age in Europe so much under the sway of Latin Christianity was characterised by the separation of religion (church) from state. Both arguments aim to call attention to different, if not contradictory, social conditions and their perception by those involved therein. It is clearly impossible to deal with all the issues relative to this subject and all the more so to provide answers to them within the scope of this article. My goal is, therefore, to illuminate only some fundamental points of history and religious history, which in my view will help to gain a new insight into the above issues and to provide a dispassionate analysis of the facts.


Let us first consider the different reasons behind various approaches that Christianity and Islam take towards any manifestation of man’s creative activity based on religious and cosmological ideas. In the Qur’an (2: 31) God tells Adam the names of all things; thus, all the knowledge about the created world comes from God. Man is not in a position to extend this knowledge; this point is made clear by, for example, Muhammad ‘Abduh (d. 1905) in his comments to the above sura from the Qur’an.1  As a matter of fact, knowledge is a product of the ever-lasting process of divine creation, which at every given moment defines everything that happens in this world, and covers any place and any period in time. The world thus created is conceived by us to be the cosmos not because of its inherent causality, but only because through his wise and untiring acts of creation God has made it all precisely the way it is now, without revealing his reasons for doing so. Numerous variations underlying this main idea of Islamic cosmology and theology have been voiced throughout its long history from the times of al-Ghazali (d. 1111) to the present day.

Man is assigned the role of God’s vicegerent in this cosmos which is entirely defined by the will of the Creator (Qur’an, 2: 30). What is the meaning of this? There are different answers to this question. Let us first take up the answers which are given by Sufism and the law of the shari‘a, as both exert an especially profound influence upon the minds of many people today. Sufism maintains that only he who is able to renounce his own “self” and devote his whole life to the disposition of Providence, will be able to execute the will of the Most High and at some rare and happy moments will even acquire an ability to participate in His creative acts (tashrif). Al-Shatibi, a scholar from Andalusia (d. 1388) who is highly popular among modern scholars, believes on the contrary that man’s role as “vicegerent” will be accomplished only when, after a profound examination of the sources of the law, and a strict implementation of the results of this inquiry, man’s intentions then coincide with those of God.2

Political thought in Latin Christianity rests on a completely different foundation. In the Old Testament God leaves it to man to name all other creatures (1st Book of Moses, 2, 19 and further), and gives him the world in what may be called trusteeship, since God takes a rest on the seventh day. Of course, it is occasionally difficult for man to cope with the task assigned to him, and God has again and again to intervene in the course of events. He directs humanity along the path he has predetermined, punishing man for his mistakes, etc. Despite man’s inherent imperfections and sinfulness God shows him his boundless love and sacrifices His son in order to show sinners the road to salvation, making it known to them that they, too, can have hope, if they “will follow Jesus.” Jesus compares his deeds with the toil of a sower: most of his seeds will fall on the barren ground and will die, but some will sprout, take root and will yield fruit (Mark, 4, 9). Sowing – a holy act – has already begun; not everybody understands this, but those who have, act without delay. The truth is that many do not know how to respond to God’s message. And Jesus says unto those unsure and doubting: “I am come to send fire on the earth; and what will I, if it be already kindled? But I have a baptism to be baptised with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished! Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, Nay; but rather division: for from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three against two and two against three.” (Luke, 12, 49-52). Thus, it is only thanks to the coming of Jesus Christ that the imperfection of the earthly things man creates becomes visible, and man himself can make decisions about the afterlife. But instead of bringing harmony to the world, this decision will only emphasise the state of
utmost confusion in which both believers and unbelievers, the good and the wicked, have found themselves, and in which they will remain until the Judgement Day. Apparently, Jesus did not hope it would be possible to make life on this planet such as would befit the work of God’s vicegerent on the Earth. And his kingdom will not be of this world, although it is present within those who have accepted him.

This central idea of Christ’s prophesy was taken up by St. Augustine (d. 430) in his work “De civitate Dei,” which was instrumental in the development of Latin Europe’s self-image, while in Eastern, Greek Christianity his works remained in obscurity. Augustine defines the state of entanglement and commingling which is an indispensable condition for the co-existence of “the earthly city” (“civitas terrena”) and “the city of God” (“civitas Dei”) in this world. The earthly community and the heavenly community each stem from a specific source of love. “Civitas terrena” is based on self-love which sometimes turns into the rejection of God, while the adherents of “civitas Dei” sometimes run into the opposite extreme of self-denial in their boundless love for God. Since people practising either kind of love are outwardly indistinguishable from one another and live in the same society, it may be concluded that the earthly state can never become a supreme and perfect form of community. For the state to become an acceptable form of existence for its citizens, it should follow the principle of justice. However, justice is not the sum of actions and deeds that are based on divine law. It implies the recognition of the laws and rules that were agreed upon by all of the state’s citizens including atheists. “What are empires without justice, other than big bands of robbers?” Augustine asks in perhaps the most famous passage in his treatise, and answers that bands of robbers are no less than small empires. “All these groups of people are driven by the will of their leader, they are rallied round a mutual conspiracy and divide their spoils in accordance with the laws they have devised. When this band gets bigger in size due to the influx of the scum from all quarters and begins to conquer one country after another, it defiantly assumes the title of ‘empire’.” Justice itself stems from the concept of legal stability, which is in turn understood to mean the observance of laws established in society. On this basis one can say that legal stability, peace and harmony are the creations of men, and their presence is explained, in the long run, by the ability of a stronger man to impose his will on others to respect the agreements made in his own interests.

In the treatise Augustine wanted to warn the Christians of the common illusion that the Roman Empire had been “civitas christiana” since it was formerly proclaimed Christian under the emperor Constantine (285-337). Augustine denies this in the belief that the existence of a Christian society does not depend on the presence of a secular state; it is connected to it only in as much as people who worship God are also citizens of this state3 . As was said before, a different viewpoint prevailed in the Byzantium of later times. On the contrary, Byzantium considered itself to be a Christian empire and raised its emperor to the rank of God’s representative on Earth.4

Political thinking in Medieval Latin Europe advanced rapidly along the path which had been so clearly indicated by Augustine. It obediently took up the burden of the dual authority of the Emperor and the Pope, secular domination and the Church’s claims for power. Without discussing the events of that time in much detail, I’d like to cite the small fact that even such a man as Thomas of Aquinas (d. 1274), whom the Catholic Church honours as one of its outstanding thinkers, was convinced that state authority did not derive from church authority at all. It is only when temporal power affects the sacred interests of Christians, that he concedes to the Pope the right to intervene in events. For his part, the ruler surely had powers to decide on all other matters, based on the force of law, and was in a position to change these rules in accordance with changing circumstances.5

Marsilius de Padua (d. 1342/3) occupies a prominent place among mediaeval authors who made a decisive contribution to the development of a secularised community of people. At the beginning of the 14th century he taught briefly at the University of Paris and was involved in major politics at that time, in the struggle between the Pope, the princes and the emperor over the reach of their power. Long before Marsilius began to serve at the Nürnberg court of King Louis IV of Bavaria, who was crowned in 1328 in Rome, his chief work “The Defender of Peace” (“Defensor pacis”) – at first circulated anonymously – became the subject of a heated debate.

Many centuries before him Augustine had come to the conclusion that peace inside a community was based on the agreements that were concluded between members of this community, and on the Prince’s ability to bring them about. Marsilius, too, definitely adhered to this view. The Church led by the Pope could not influence events directly to preserve peace, since peace is not a spiritual, but a very worldly condition; it can be described as the stability of the internal conditions of a state. Stability is necessary for people in the community to find paths to one another and thus develop their diverse talents for their own benefit or for that of others. “Thus people united to achieve satisfactory living conditions as they had a possibility... to receive the goods they needed and to trade them between themselves. This association which is perfect and totally self-sufficient is called a state.” A community of this world stems not from some supreme heavenly injunction nor is it legitimised by one. If Augustine is willing to accept the self-love that members of the “civitas terrena” practice, believing this quality to be an important component of politics, lest anarchy prevail, then Marsilius is a principled apologist of self-love: for him it means no other than an expression of every reasonable human being’s pursuit of “worthy living standards... and avoidance of anything that can prevent him from attaining them.” It would be wrong to think that the Christian Gospel has nothing to do with this state. But God’s power over Christendom and human power do not merge at all. God created Christianity, and the benefactions he initiated became visible to people through revelation. This changes nothing in the fact that man orders his life only with the intellect that God bestowed upon him. But in doing so he has only himself to rely on. Faith embraces only those doctrines and rituals for the salvation of the soul that pertain to afterlife and does not give any counsel regarding life on this planet. Consecrated to the holy sacraments, Christ belongs to the Church; however, in his earthly life he is a member of the earthly community, the laws of which rest on the rational interpretation of being. The earthly community appears as an indispensable condition for each individual Christian’s connection with the Church, but nevertheless it cannot serve as a sufficient pre-condition for saving his soul.

By liberating man’s desire for a satisfactory temporal existence from the stigma of selfishness, Marsilius opens up opportunities to consider the forms and institutions of a positive government, one permitting a human being to use his talents for the common good. He thus pays special attention to the aspect which will later become pivotal in the majority of European doctrines about state: what matters most is not power by itself or its legitimacy, but the challenges the authorities should address and the appropriate means they should use to overcome them. It is abundantly clear that different countries at different times cannot solve these problems in the same way. To put it differently, the state which is oriented towards God-given reason cannot be universal; it is limited to a definite territory, within which relatively uniform living conditions make reasonable a set of laws that apply to all its citizens. Hence, the Christian state finds itself competing with other similar states which are ideally guided by the same criterion of reason and therefore are equally legitimate.6

The roots of the modern territorial state that incorporates all of its citizens and governs them according to laws reasonably adapted to suit changes in living conditions, go back to the Middle Ages. It uses rational, pragmatic institutions that are built up in such a way as to limit the scope for their officers’ realisation of their own interests and to serve, above all, the interests of the state, as personified by its sovereign. In this model of the state, which first blossomed in numerous variations during the age of so-called absolutism, the sovereign stands above the law, precisely because, thanks to his inside knowledge, he is able to see the whole picture and in so doing can make decisions and change the laws. But these features are not enough to qualify the state as secular. For Marsilius, too, gives us to understand that the justification of the legitimacy of the sovereign’s power lies in the subordination of the people’s secular life to the spiritual sphere which is under the jurisdiction of the church. The line Marsilius and other authors draw between earthly power and the spiritual world requires religious substantiation of the ruling sovereign’s position of supremacy. That is why one speaks in the 16th-17th centuries about the “divine right of kings,” that the monarch was sent by “the grace of God,” i.e. that he realised his power, freed from religious pre­conditions, with the express approval of the Almighty. However this logic put on a back burner the issue of the legitimacy of state power,7 for if the recognised reason for the existence of the state is to develop its citizens’ talents and abilities, and also to provide them with creature comforts, the sovereign can be criticised for his actions in these areas. An individual begins to reflect upon the rationality of the existing laws, and tries to see how they suit his own interests. In other words, as power distances itself from the church there arises the problem of an individual’s human dignity. This becomes the key issue in all reflections about a human community in which the faith that shows the way to salvation stops being its integrating component.

The postulates about the divine right of kings and their God-given rule indicate that the idea of recognising man’s dignity as an ultimate justification of authority was quite advanced. When one looks at these postulates more closely they appear in reality to be a kind of a bastion against a rebellion from the king’s subjects, who can imagine that, since their personal good has been proclaimed to be the meaning of their life, then they themselves should be the starting point and the purpose of all the authority’s activities. Europe took the transition from the sovereignty of a monarch to that of the people as something revolutionary, though it had been in the making for several centuries already. Therefore in this brief outline of the development of the secular state in Latin Europe we should proceed from the theme of the secularisation of authority to the ongoing process of moulding human dignity as the supreme purpose of the state’s activities so that we can attempt to provide a definition of the concept “secular state.”

Of decisive importance is mankind’s new awareness within the cosmos, an awareness which surfaces during the Renaissance period and finds its historical expression, for example, in Pico della Mirandola’s (d. 1494) famous “Oration on the Dignity of Man.” Pico considers that man is not absorbed into the cosmos of which he is part; he is not the finished individual that he is predetermined by nature to be, but rather is always in a state of flux, in the process of self-evolution, applying his own talents for creation. “The nature of all other beings is limited and constrained within the bounds of laws prescribed by Us (i.e. by God). Thou, constrained by no limits, in accordance with thine own free will, in whose hand We have placed thee, shalt ordain for thyself the limits of thy nature… We have made thee neither of heaven nor of earth … so that with freedom of choice, as though the maker and molder of thyself, thou mayest fashion thyself in whatever shape thou shalt prefer”.8 Thus speaks God unto man in Pico’s work. The striking optimism of these words was largely lost in the period of religious schisms and wars (16th-17th centuries). But precisely this terrible experience contributed to the completion of the secularisation process.

A return to a community created and controlled by God has long been impossible. So there is nothing else left for man to do but to accept oneself such as he is, not only with his positive features, but also with his negative tendencies. An example of this is provided in “Leviathan” by Thomas Hobbes (d. 1679). Published in 1651, it contains the author’s ideas about state law. According to Hobbes, mankind in his natural condition is his own bitterest enemy. It is only the fear of anarchy’s disastrous force that causes him to follow reason and to make a tacit agreement with his own kind in which the parties limit each other’s freedoms. Foundations are thereby laid of a state, i.e. an institution, which uses force, if necessary, to ensure the goal its existence. Included in the unwritten contract is the subjugation of the individual to the authorised agents of the state.9

Hobbes’ younger German contemporary Samuel Pufendorf (d. 1694) was one of the thinkers who adopted these ideas and brought them into a system which revolves around the concept of natural law. Natural law is understood to mean the law inherent in the nature of every person, irrespective of the circumstances of his life and religious affiliations, these laws being the basis of the unwritten contract of which Hobbes speaks. Pufendorf treats this natural law, first of all, as everyone’s obligation to his fellow citizens to do everything possible for the development of a prosperous community. Here it is necessary to distinguish the concept of statute law, which comprises the arrangements which derive from the realisation of the concluded social contract. In Pufendorf’s point of view, statute law should be considered as indirect natural law, because it fulfills the obligation of natural law to work towards the formation of a community. Since every individual is faced with this task, a person’s dignity does not consist in his boundless autonomy; the ability, bestowed upon a person to shape his own “ego” is manifest, first of all, in his actions that affect all society. The supreme ideals of this society such as equal rights for all, faithfulness to the agreements concluded, respect for proprietary rights10  etc., do not require divine injunction.

The religious philosophy of the late 17th-early 18th centuries strengthened the detachment of the state and social order from divine revelation. John Locke (d. 1704), who fathered the concepts of state liberalism, the principle of the separation of authorities and of human rights, also shared the view that revelations do exist, but they can be recognised as such only after being analysed in depth. During Locke’s life a religious-philosophical doctrine called deism appeared first in England, and then spread on to the Continent. This theory is based on the premise that although God created the world, it is not necessarily God the Creator who always makes laws. What man believes to be divine laws are actually, in the deists’ judgement, human creations. How else is it possible to explain the bitter disputes that flare up between religions and confessions over the contents of so-called revelations?

Thus, by the early 18th century the scene was set for the concept of a constitutional secular state: all state power should serve its citizens’ worldly interests; the citizens, endowed by nature with inalienable rights and indisputable duties, have a final say in defining the laws which they must obey and in accordance with which they would mould their community; this community is territorially limited and in contact with other similarly organised communities; and the rules of a constitutional secular state no longer required direct religious justification. Therefore, the constitutional secular state upholds the ideal of religious freedom and equal voting rights to all citizens irrespective of their religious beliefs and world outlook. Another function of this state is to suppress forces that seek once again under the guise of freedom of speech and religion to channel public discourse into antipluralism by acting on behalf of some specific religious movement.

____________________________________________________________

1 Nagel T. Geschichte der islamischen Theologie. München, 1994, 254 f.


2 Nagel Ò. Im Offenkundigen das Verborgene. Die Heilszusage des sunnitischen Islams.Göttingen, 2002 (Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen phil.-hist. Klasse, Dritte Folge, ¹ 244), pp. 301, 479, 549; Nagel Ò. Das islamische Recht. Eine Einführung. Westhofen, 2001, 270 f.

3 Here I follow an irreproachable summery of St. Augustine’s political thought made by Maier in: Maier H. Klassiker des politischen Denkens. Bd. I, München, 1968, pp. 87-113.

4 Ducellier A. Byzanz. Das Reich und die Stadt. Frankfurt / Main, 1990, pp. 40, 270.

5 Höffe O. Kleine Geschichte der Philosophie. München, 2001, p. 131.

6 Rausch H. in: Klassiker des politischen Denkens, Bd. I, pp. 172-197. Rausch emphasizes Aristotle’s influence on Marsilius; this is an important fact, which I was unable to dwell upon in more detail here; I had also to give up the description of Marsilius’ thoughts on the best form of state and the functions that its different branches of power perform.

7 Krüger H. Allgemeine Staatslehre, 2. Auflage, Stuttgart, 1966, p. 48.

8 Quoted from: Cassirer E. Individuum und Kosmos in der Philosophie der Renaissance. 6. unveränderte Auflage. Darmstadt, 1987, p. 90.

9 Höffe, a.a.O., p. 162.

10 Denzer H. in: Klassiker des politischen Denkens, Bd. II, 46 f.