Celebrating Holidays and Heroes: Rejoicing in the Ideal and Critiquing the Reality – Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas

Burton Weltman

We have just finished in the United States an extended holiday season during which the most prominent public celebrations were Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas.  So, in the spirit of the Grinch who first stole Christmas and then found its true meaning, this might be a good time to reflect a bit on the meaning of all this celebrating.

Americans share with most other peoples an all-too-human tendency to treat holidays as an opportunity to rejoice in our heroes as though they were ideal people and rejoice in ourselves as adherents of their ideals.  We equate celebration with congratulation.  But this is a one-sided view of holiday celebration that can leave us no better off the day after the holiday than the day before.  And that is a denigration of the event.

Celebration is a word that first came into use in the English language during the fifteenth century.  It referred to religious commemorations of holy days and especially the Sacrament of the Eucharist that is the culmination of the Mass in the Roman Catholic Church.  A Catholic Mass commemorates the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  It includes readings from the Old and New Testaments and a sermon.  A Catholic is supposed to confess his/her sins and agree to penitence for those sins before the Mass in order to participate in communion with Jesus at the close of the ceremony.  The purpose of a Mass is for people to rejoice in Jesus as their Savior and in their membership in the Church but also to reflect on  the meaning of Christianity and their shortcomings as Christians.  Celebration was, therefore, conceived as an event during which people rejoiced in their ideals but also subjected their ideals and themselves to critical scrutiny.

The purpose of this essay is to apply this definition of celebration to the recent holidays of Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas.  The goal of the essay is to derive some values from these holidays in addition to the good cheer, good meals and gifts that are traditional with them.

Thanksgiving Rediscovered: The Pilgrims’ Progress.

There is a significant difference between the popular image of Thanksgiving and the events that actually occurred in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1620-1621.  The conventional story of Thanksgiving tells of Pilgrims escaping from religious and political persecution in England to establish a regime of tolerance and freedom in the New World.  Historians, however, tell a story that is more complex and not as congratulatory as the conventional version that appears in most school textbooks and the mass media.  The Pilgrims were not always the saints they aspired to be.  They were certainly not apostles of tolerance and freedom and were not missionaries for a democratic and multicultural America as they are often portrayed in popular culture.

Contrary to the conventional story, the Pilgrims did not come to America to establish religious freedom.  The Pilgrims were strict English Protestants who opposed many of the practices of the established Anglican Church in England because Anglicanism seemed to them to be too much like the hated Catholic Church.  As a result of their religious non-conformity, the Pilgrims were persecuted by the Anglican Church and English government.  Many of the Pilgrims fled from England to the Netherlands in the early 1600’s to escape the oppression they suffered in England.  But these same Pilgrims then fled from the Netherlands to America in 1620 to escape the religious tolerance and openness of Dutch society.  It seems that the Pilgrim elders were afraid that their children might be induced by the religious and intellectual freedom of Dutch society to stray from the narrow and strict form of Protestant Christianity that the Pilgrims practiced.  As such, the Pilgrims did not come to America to establish a society that promoted religious and cultural tolerance but to establish a regime of religious and cultural intolerance of their own.

In the course of their escape from freedom in the Netherlands, the Pilgrims lied to British authorities about where they were headed.  They were supposed to land in Virginia but religion in Virginia was controlled by the Anglican Church.  So, the Pilgrims essentially hijacked the Mayflower and landed in Massachusetts where they found that most of the natives had recently died from infectious diseases.  Historians know now that this catastrophe was a result of the transmission to America by European fisherman and other visitors of diseases with which the Native Americans had no experience and no immune system defenses, so that most of them died.  But the Pilgrims saw in this holocaust the hand of Divine Providence.

To their delight, the Pilgrims found empty houses in the vicinity of Plymouth Rock.  They found crops growing in untended fields.  They found graves full of useful items that had been buried with their owners.  And they found abandoned land that was ostensibly open for appropriation by themselves.  The Pilgrims survived their first few years in Massachusetts largely on the bounty that was left behind by dead Indians and on the advice of the few remaining natives.  At what is considered the first Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims expressly gave thanks to God for having killed off the Indians and paved the way for the Pilgrims’ holy settlement.  That was what they were rejoicing about with their feasts.  And it was the surviving Indians who brought most of the food.

This is not a pretty picture of the Pilgrims and some people on the right-wing of the political spectrum claim that this is an unpatriotic portrait.  But that is a false equation of patriotism with willful ignorance and blind obeisance to false gods.  Patriotism is a commitment to making one’s country the best it can be, recognizing its shortcomings, and dealing with its problems openly and honestly.  And that includes recognizing when the country’s founders and heroes are flawed.

A hero is worth celebrating for the ideals he/she represents to us and the challenges he/she presents to us in fulfilling those ideals.  But a hero is also worth celebrating for the ways he/she fell short of those ideals, and is worth studying for the things we can learn from his/her failures to help us do better.  The facts of Thanksgiving do not match the idealization of the Pilgrims to which we are accustomed.  But that does not mean that the ideals we associate with Thanksgiving are not worth celebrating.  The most important reason for celebrating a holiday is to recommit ourselves to fulfilling the ideals which the holiday commemorates.

Thanksgiving is a time to reflect on the whys and wherefores of whatever good fortune we have experienced over the past year and to share our good fortune with others.  Thanksgiving also represents to us an ideal of religious freedom and intercultural cooperation that remains a challenge for us to fulfill.  The Pilgrims did not entirely live up to these ideals but we can learn from their experience.  The fact that the Pilgrims were flawed makes them worth studying to see whether and how their failures can help us to do better ourselves.

The Pilgrims are also worth celebrating because they exemplify many of the qualities we associate with Thanksgiving.  They exhibited the courage of their convictions in leaving Europe for an unknown land.  And when it turned out that the Mayflower carried as many non-Pilgrims as Pilgrims, the Pilgrims were able to work out a pragmatic compromise in the Mayflower Compact that satisfied the religious and political concerns of all parties.  Over half of the Pilgrims died during their first winter in Massachusetts but the survivors persevered and gave thanks for their survival.  The Pilgrims were also able to work peaceably with the Native Americans.  It was the Puritans who came to Massachusetts later who enforced rigid and repressive religious requirements on the colonists, and who initiated major encroachments on the Indians’ lands and murderous wars with them.

So, there is much to be said in favor of the Pilgrims as precursors of American ideas and ideals.  And there is reason to celebrate Thanksgiving as a day of taking stock of how those ideals have evolved, how our practices have and have not evolved to fit them, and how we can do better.

Revisiting Hanukkah: What to do with the Maccabees?

With Hanukkah there is an even greater difference than with Thanksgiving between the popular version and the historians’ version of the events behind the holiday.  Hanukkah celebrates the war of a Jewish family, the Maccabees, and their followers against the Syrians who controlled Israel during the second century BCE.  Hanukkah is historically a minor Jewish holiday and the Books of the Maccabees, which recount the events that Hanukkah commemorates from the point of view of the Maccabees, are not even part of the Jewish Bible.  Hanukkah has, nonetheless, become a major holiday among modern America Jews.

The popular story of Hanukkah bears very little resemblance to the historical facts.  As the story appears in Sunday school textbooks, the mass media, and the minds of most Jews, Hanukkah is an uplifting tale of heroic Jews fighting for religious freedom and national liberation against an oppressive and intolerant Syrian government.  And in this version of the story, the Jews defeat the Syrians and live happily in freedom thereafter.  This is the story that I learned in my Jewish Sunday school.  The historical reality is quite different.

When Alexander the Great died in 323 BCE, his empire split into three often warring parts: the Ptolemaic Empire based in Egypt, the Seleucid Empire based in Syria, and the Antigonid Empire based in Greece.  All three considered themselves Hellenistic societies and were ruled by Greeks and their descendants.  Israel, as a crossroads between Africa, Asia and Europe, was a contested territory between the Egyptians and the Syrians.  At the time of the Hanukkah events, which began around 167 BCE, Israel was controlled by Syria.  The Syrians were tolerant and lenient overlords who largely left the Israeli Jews to themselves so long as they paid their annual tribute to the Seleucid king.

It is important to note that only a small minority of Jews lived at this time in Israel and that ever since the conquest of Israel by Babylonia in 586 BCE, the great majority of Jews had lived in communities scattered around the Mediterranean Sea and in the Middle East.  It is also important to note that Israeli Jews and so-called diaspora Jews had different loci for practicing their shared religion. For most of those Jews who lived in Israel, the Temple — a place of animal and vegetable sacrifices to God — was the locus of worship.  For the majority of Jews who lived outside of Israel, synagogues — places of study and prayer — were their locus of worship.

During the second century BCE, Israeli Jews were themselves split into feuding pro-Egyptian and pro-Syrian factions.  Around 170 BCE, the pro-Syrian faction decided to cement the position of Israel within the Syrian Empire and gain some additional political rights and economic benefits for Israel by adopting some Hellenistic mercantile laws and promoting some Hellenistic cultural institutions, such as gymnasiums where scantily clad men and women would exercise.

These moves were mildly opposed by the pro-Egyptian faction but were violently opposed by a group of ultra-orthodox Jews who believed that these Hellenistic ways, and especially the gymnasiums, violated their strict interpretation of Jewish Biblical law.  Led by the Maccabee family, they set out to kill any and all Jews who did not practice the strictly orthodox brand of Judaism that they practiced.  The Hanukkah story thus began as a civil war of the ultra-orthodox Jews of that day against the reform Jews, with the ultra-orthodox conducting a campaign of terrorism and murder against the reformers.  Rather than a struggle for religious and cultural freedom, it was an effort to impose an extremist form of religious and cultural totalitarianism on the Jewish people.

The Syrians, afraid that they might lose Israel to Egypt, stepped in to stop the violence but, as is often the case with imperial interventions, they only made things worse.  As frequently happens when outsiders step into a civil war (see, for example, the American interventions into Iraq and Afghanistan), it is hard for the outsiders to distinguish among foes, friends, and neutrals among the local population, and heavy-handed measures are undertaken that hurt and alienate friends and neutrals.  Frustrated by the situation, the Syrians undertook harsh measures against all Israeli Jews and against Israeli religious practices in the Temple in Jerusalem.  As a result, the Maccabees were able to raise an army and the Hanukah wars dragged on for seven years from 167 to 160 BCE.  Significantly, however, the Maccabees received no support from the majority of Jews who lived outside of Israel and who, apparently, could not identify with religious extremists who opposed not only the Syrians but reform Jews like themselves.

Hanukkah celebrates a victory of the Maccabees in a battle in 165 BCE as a result of which the Temple in Jerusalem was restored for Jewish worship.  But that is not the end of the story.  The Maccabees won many battles but did not win the war.  The Syrians won the war and the surviving rebels had to retreat to the hills from which they periodically conducted terrorist raids on the Israeli population.

The Maccabees lost the war but won the peace, sort of.  In the end, the last remaining rebel leader, Simon Maccabee, made a deal with the winning side in an internal Syrian factional fight.  He was made the ruler of Israel so long as he went along with continued Syrian control and Hellenization of the country, the very things his family and followers had opposed. Simon became the first of the Hasmonean Dynasty of Jewish rulers over Israel, a regime so notoriously corrupt and vicious that they were able to maintain their rule only by repeatedly subjugating Israelis with the help of the Syrian army.

It is ironic and almost paradoxical that Hanukkah has become a major holiday for modern American Jews.  Most Jews today are not orthodox and even the most orthodox Jews today are not anywhere near as orthodox, as devoted to following the letter of the Jewish Bible, as were the Maccabees.  I don’t know, for example, of any Jews today who want to return to the animal and vegetable sacrifices in a Temple of those past days.  And while the fanatics of some religions today believe in stoning to death adulterous women as is prescribed in the Bible, I don’t think that even the most orthodox Jews today believe in that.  The irony is that probably all of the Jews who celebrate Hanukkah today would be considered heretical and unholy by the Maccabees.

This is not a pretty picture of the Maccabees and Hanukkah, and many Jews resist any critique of conventional renditions of Jewish history on the grounds that it is either a cover for anti-Semitism if done by a non-Jew or an instance of “self-hatred” if done by a Jew.  But this is a confusion of critique with criticism and an over sensitivity to what these people see as criticism.  As with patriotism, religious and ethnic loyalty must begin with a commitment to truth and honor. In this context, I cannot think of any way in which one could legitimately celebrate the Maccabees.  They were heroic in fighting their wars but so are the Taliban and Islamic State fighters of today whom the Maccabees most resemble.  One can be heroic without being a hero.

The holiday can perhaps best be celebrated as a warning against the extremism that imperialism can provoke.  It also stands as a warning against outside interference in the internal conflicts of another country which can provoke extremism, as we have seen in recent years in Afghanistan and Iraq.   In this way, the holiday can serve as celebration of freedom even if the subjects of the holiday, the Maccabees, are cited as a negative example.

Christmas: What would Jesus do?

Christmas is a different type of story than Thanksgiving and Hanukkah.  With Christmas, there isn’t a contradiction between the popular version and the historians’ version of events but a contradiction between what most Christians believe actually and factually happened and the total absence of historical evidence about what happened or whether anything at all happened. The story of Jesus’ birth, and almost everything else about his life and death, is derived solely from the Gospels which are at best a third or fourth hand retelling of the supposed events.  That Jesus was born in a manger attended by shepherds and by three wise men from afar who were guided by a star is contained only in the Gospels, and they were written generations after the events they report.  There is no supporting historical evidence for the events described in the Gospels.

Christmas is one of the two most important holy days in the Christian calendar, the other being the Good Friday/Easter celebration of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  These two holidays reflect one of the divisions among Christians between those who emphasize Jesus’ life and his role as a teacher appealing to humankind’s better angels, and those who emphasize his death and his role as a martyr dying as result of humankind’s wickedness.  The former look to Jesus as an inspiration to help others, citing his Golden Rule as their credo “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you if you were in their situation.”  The latter look for God’s help in identifying and punishing heretics, infidels and the wicked, those who ostensibly killed Christ and whose sins Christ died for.  “Vengeance is mine saith the Lord” is their mantra.

Growing up as a Jew in a predominantly Catholic neighborhood in Chicago during the 1950’s, I experienced this latter attitude first hand.  It was still Catholic Church doctrine at that time — it no longer is –that “the Jews” had killed Christ and that Jews’ continuing refusal to accept Jesus as their Savior constituted an ongoing crucifixion.  My Catholic friends would tell me that their priest had told them at Good Friday services that “In every moment that a Jew refuses to accept Jesus as Savior, another nail is hammered into His quivering flesh.”  It was dangerous for a Jewish kid to walk the streets in my neighborhood on Good Friday.  I was once chased by a mob of several hundred boys who were just leaving Good Friday services at their parochial school church as I came by.  I usually stayed indoors on Good Friday.

Although the Gospels provide support for both sides in this debate about the meaning of Jesus’ life and death, the Gospels seem to place Jesus within the camp of social idealists in Israel during his life.  Israeli Jews at that time were split into two main groups.  There were the Sadducees, a minority among Israeli Jews consisting mainly of the well-to-do, whose worship centered around sacrifices and rituals at the Temple, and the Pharisees, the majority of Israeli Jews whose religious practice centered around discussing moral questions, taking social action and worshiping at synagogues, much like Jews elsewhere in the world at that time.

Although the Gospels cite Jesus as criticizing Pharisees for being hypocritical and overly legalistic, he was apparently raised as a Pharisee and his teachings reflect those of idealists among the Pharisees, including the Golden Rule.  Jesus’ main criticisms were leveled at Sadducees and the Gospels seem to blame some Sadducees, people connected with the Temple from which Jesus had driven moneylenders, for complaining about Jesus to the Roman authorities and conniving in his execution by the Romans.  Jesus’ teachings as reported in the Gospels were almost entirely focused on social ideals.

Thanks in large part to Charles Dickens and his story A Christmas Carol, the celebration of Christmas over the last couple of hundred years in Europe and America has come to focus on social ideals.  Dickens’ story mirrors in key ways the Gospel story of Jesus’ birth.  The Gospels tell about a family sticking and working together through hard times and about charity from those who are well off to those who are less fortunate.  Joseph and Mary are a poor working class family who have to find lodging in a barn.  There they are helped by some local shepherds and by three rich kings who share their wealth with the poor family.  Out of this comes the baby Jesus who symbolizes hope for a better self and a better world.  A Christmas Carol is also a story of family togetherness and charity towards the less fortunate.  In the story, the Cratchit family struggles economically, but they still make a merry Christmas together.  Scrooge likewise eventually connects with his better angel and with his own family, and finds happiness and hopefully salvation through charity toward the Cratchits and the poor.

These social ideals have largely become the meaning of Christmas for most American and European Christians who are expected to examine their lives in light of the meaning of Christmas.  This emphasis on Jesus as a teacher and social idealist inspired the Social Gospel movement among Christians in Europe and America beginning in the late-nineteenth century.  They coined the question “What would Jesus do?” as a benchmark criteria for people’s actions.  This question resonates with Christians and even many non-Christians to the present day.  Pope Francis has recently even used his Christmas message to criticize the Catholic Church hierarchy for failing to live up to the Christian ideals that the Church is supposed to promote.

For many Christians, the historicity of Jesus’ life, and whether events actually occurred as they are described in the Gospels, seems to make very little difference to their beliefs.  The Christmas story for them is almost entirely a vehicle for Christian ideals.  Unlike the historical reexaminations of the events behind Thanksgiving and Hanukah which have highlighted flaws and failings in the Pilgrims and Maccabees, there has been no historical debunking of Jesus’ ideas and actions.  There has, however, been controversy among Christians as to whether Jesus was perfect in every way.  Some claim that to suggest otherwise is blasphemous.  Others claim that in his human aspect, Jesus had at least potential failings.

They cite the temptation of Jesus by Satan in the Dessert as showing that he was capable of being tempted even though he rejected the temptations.  And they cite his cry of despair while dying on the Cross, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?,” as showing that he was capable of doubting his faith even though he subsequently reaffirmed it before dying.  They claim that in these incidents Jesus confirms the Christian message that there is no virtue without the possibility of vice so that virtue consists of overcoming vice, and that there is no faith without doubt so that faith consists of overcoming doubt.  Christians, they say, must expect to be tempted and to experience doubt.  There is no sin in that.  The goal is to overcome them.

Celebrating and Learning from History as Choice.

The Pilgrims were not liberals or democrats.  They were not even Americans as we usually define that term.  They were precursors of Americans in the way that the Mycenaeans were the precursors of the Greeks or the Angles and Saxons were precursors of the English.  Likewise, the Maccabees were not freedom fighters and they were not even Jews in the way Judaism has been practiced over the last two thousand years.  They were precursors of that Judaism.  And Jesus was not a Christian.  He was a Jew with a message that became the basis of Christianity and, as such, he can be considered a precursor of Christianity.

These people are worth celebrating for the ideals they represent.  But even more, they are worth studying for the problems they faced, the alternatives they chose from in trying to solve their problems, and the choices they made.  Their choices produced consequences that are contained in our problems, our alternatives, and our choices as we try to fulfill the ideals they represent.  That is why holiday celebration should involve critical reasoning at least as much as emotional rejoicing.  If we wake up the next morning with  a headache, it should be from too much thinking about holiday issues and debating them with our relatives and friends, and not just from too much holiday spirits.

Revolt of the Minor Characters: A Suggestion for a Dickens Imitation

Revolt of the Minor Characters: A Suggestion for a Dickens Imitation

Burton Weltman

Dickens has frequently been criticized for the blandness and even insipidness of most of his major characters, especially his leading women.  It is his secondary characters who most readers find most interesting and who Dickens probably enjoyed the most.  His main characters were seemingly written to satisfy Victorian expectations.  His minor characters were written to satisfy his own tastes.

So, here is a suggestion for a writer with enough daring and skill to undertake a Dickens imitation: Have your novel revolve around a slew of Dickens’ minor characters.

The corpus of Dickens’ work essentially embodies a single universe.  Any one of his characters could plausibly appear in any of his stories.   On this basis, you could write a story that included, for example, Mr. Micawber, Mr. M’Choakumchild, Sarai Gamp, Uriah Heep, Sam Weller, Mrs. Jellyby, the Artful Dodger, Major Joseph Bagstock, the Reverend Chadband, Monsieur Rigaud, Rogue Riderhood, Bradley Headstone, and the Bagnet, Squeers and Smallwood families, just to name a few of the possible participants.  You could construct a wonderful story with a host of delightful and disgusting secondary Dickens characters all bouncing off of each other without the drag of those bland primary Dickens characters.

I think that most Dickensophiles would love to read such book.

 

An Unorthodox View of Jewish History: Why are Jews still here at all and why aren’t there more of us?

An Unorthodox View of Jewish History:

Why are Jews still here at all and why aren’t there more of us?

Burton Weltman

  1. An Orthodox Parallax: Shifting the Perspective on Jewish History.

These are the two most amazing facts about Jewish history: First, that there is any Jewish history at all and, in particular, that Jews have survived as a people during the last two thousand years.  Second, that there are so few Jews in the world today, only some fourteen million.

Considering the circumstances in which Jews have lived for most of the last two millennia, it is remarkable that we still exist as a people.  The prehistory of the Jewish people begins with the Biblical Hebrews, who ostensibly lived in ancient Palestine beginning some three thousand years ago.  Although the Hebrews and their story in the Bible are almost certainly mythological, it is a matter of historical record that Israelites lived in Palestine during the eighth and seventh centuries.  These Israelites are the historical ancestors of present day Jews.

But the Israelites were exiled from Palestine.  The so-called Ten Lost Tribes who lived in northern Palestine were expelled by the Assyrians around 725 BCE, and disappeared from history.  Then in 586 BCE, the remaining two tribes of Israelites were taken into captivity by the Babylonians.  They were, however, able to retain their identity as a people, and some were later permitted to move back to Palestine.  But from the time of the Babylonian Captivity to the present day, the great majority of Jews have been dispersed around the world.  They have lived in disparate places in which they have invariably been a minority, and even a marginal, population.  And from the second century CE, when the minority of Jews who lived in Palestine were expelled by the Romans, to the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, Jews were without a place they could consider a homeland.

In circumstances such as these, most ethnic groups have simply disappeared, and their religions have either disappeared or become cult relics.  This happened, for example, with the Parthians.  From around 225 BCE to 225 CE, the Parthians inhabited most of western Asia, including what is today Iran, in one of the largest geographical empires in history.  Conflict with the Roman Empire and internal strife led to the dissolution of the Parthian Empire, and no one has heard of them since.  In turn, Zoroastrianism, which was the official religion of the Parthian Empire, became an obscure cult.  Given the similarity of circumstances, how are we to explain the survival of Judaism and the Jews as a people?

As remarkable as it is that Jews have survived as a people, it is also remarkable that for most of the last two thousand years there have been so few Jews.  Jews thrived, proselytized, and multiplied their numbers in the lands surrounding the Mediterranean Sea from the Hellenistic Period around 300 BCE through the Roman Period of the first century CE.  It has been estimated that anywhere from 10% to 30% of people in this region considered themselves Jews during this time.  And Jewish merchants and workmen followed the Roman armies in their conquests throughout Europe, so that Jews spread out beyond the Mediterranean basin.  Given this starting point in ancient times, natural population growth should have resulted in there being hundreds of millions of Jews in the world today instead of merely some fourteen million.  How are we to explain this?

Over the last one hundred years, an orthodox narrative has developed that claims to explain these two phenomena.  This orthodox view claims that Jews have survived as a people because of their adherence to Orthodox Jewish religious beliefs and practices.  According to this view, if Jews had not adhered to Orthodoxy, they would have disappeared as a people.  This orthodox view also claims that there are so few Jews in the world because Jews have experienced continuous persecution during the last two thousand years, first by Christians and then also by Muslims.  The murderous Russian pogroms of the late nineteenth century and the genocidal Nazi Holocaust of the mid-twentieth century are portrayed as the norm in Jewish history.

This narrative of Jewish history has been almost unanimously accepted by Jews, including those who eschew Orthodoxy and adhere to Conservative, Reform, and secular Judaism.  This is, I think, a mistake, both historically and ideologically.  In following the orthodox/Orthodox view of Jewish history, Conservative, Reform and secular Jews essentially demean themselves, and undermine their claim to represent a viable alternative to Orthodoxy.  This historical self-disrespect is, however, consistent with the ways in which most non-Orthodox Jews generally portray themselves.  Conservative and Reform Jews generally speak of themselves as less orthodox, less strict, or less traditional than Orthodox Jews.  The operative term is “less,” as though they are lesser than Orthodox Jews.  Likewise, secular Jews generally speak of themselves as non-religious Jews.  Again the emphasis is on what they are not instead of what they are.  Rather than defining themselves in positive ways that differ from Orthodox Judaism, as proponents of a distinctive and progressive Jewish culture, most secular Jews present themselves as somehow diminished from Orthodoxy.

The purpose of this essay is to suggest a view of Jewish history that is significantly different than the orthodox/Orthodox view.  Writing as a secular Jew myself, I intend to try to demonstrate that secular Judaism has deep historical roots, and offers the best prospects for the future of Judaism.  Toward this end, I will emphasize the importance of looking at history as a process of people making choices, rather than as merely a chain of causation or mere happenstance.  I will also focus on the way orthodox Jewish history has been written and who has generally written it.

My theses are twofold:  First, that Judaism has survived in small part because of Orthodoxy, but in larger part despite Orthodoxy.  And second, that the persistence of Orthodoxy is the main reason there are so few Jews.  My conclusion is that if Judaism is to thrive, and not merely survive as a quaint cult, it will be based largely on the creativity and leadership of secular Jews.

  1. Defining Judaism: The Torah as Question and Quandary.

Who and what is a Jew are highly contentious questions among Jews, with one’s answers depending largely on whether one is Orthodox, Conservative, Reform or secular.  There is, however, one thing that almost all Jews of every persuasion will agree upon, and that is that Jews are a people whose identity starts with a book, the Torah.  Although the term Torah is also contested among Jews — it is used narrowly by some to describe the Five Books of Moses, or the Pentateuch, that make up the first five books of the Bible, and used by others more broadly, as I will use it in this essay, to describe all of the books that make up the Jewish Bible, or what Christians call the Old Testament — there is widespread consensus that Jewish identity is connected somehow to the Torah.  But that is pretty much where the consensus ends.

Most Orthodox Jews see the Bible as the Word of God and the literal Truth, even if it is sometimes so obscure as to be almost impossible to fathom.  They pore over the Torah and Talmudic commentaries on the Torah seeking to uncover the answers to all of life’s important questions.  Conservative and Reform Jews generally approach the Bible as part history, part myth, and part metaphor.  Some claim that the Bible is divinely inspired, even if it is not literally true.  Secular Jews generally regard the Bible as a collection of largely fictional stories.  These stories portray the paradigmatic ethical dilemmas and existential problems that our ancestors faced, and that we still face today.  Secular Jews approach the Bible as a source book of important questions about life, rather than a fount of definitive answers.  The Torah is an important text for Christians and Muslims, as well as for Jews.  Among Christians and Muslims, as among Jews, there are similar disagreements on how to approach the Bible, as literal truth, myth, or metaphor.

The Jewish Bible is made up of many narrative strands that were passed down for centuries by word of mouth until around 800 BCE, when versions of some of it were first written down.  The initial development of the Bible was oral, and was something like a game of telephone in which a person whispers something in the ear of a neighbor who in turn whispers it to a neighbor, and so forth for dozens of generations.  What was eventually written down at the end of the process as the Bible seems unlikely to have been the same as what was said in the beginning.

The version of the Jewish Bible with which we are familiar today was seemingly compiled during the sixth and fifth centuries BCE.  The editors of the Bible apparently had a large body of materials from which to choose, and they included some, excluded others, in compiling the book.  This process itself makes the Bible a debatable proposition.  Even if one accepts the Orthodox view that the editors were divinely inspired, and that the choices of what to include were essentially God’s, debatable questions still remain as to what were the reasons for the choices.  The editors apparently realized the tenuous historicity of their materials, since they included in the Pentateuch at least two different versions of every significant event and pronouncement.  There are even two versions of the creation story within the first few pages of the Book of Genesis, the first book of the Torah, thereby immediately confronting readers with the fact that the Bible cannot be taken literally and must be interpreted.

The Bible is also debatable because the editors included in the text incidents that portray almost every one of the major characters — from Adam to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David and Solomon, and almost every Jewish King thereafter — as guilty of serious misbehavior.  The misbehavior ranges from Abraham prostituting his wife, to David arranging the death of a rival for the affections of a woman.  Even the Hebrew God is portrayed as having made mistakes, which He admits when he destroys most of His creation in the Flood.  He is also portrayed as having behaved cruelly, for example, when He inflicts the ten plagues on innocent Egyptians as a means of influencing their ruler, the Pharaoh.  The inclusion of this misbehavior in the Torah inevitably leads to debatable questions as to what we are supposed to think of these figures, even the Hebrew God.  Most of the stories in the Pentateuch, including the story of Passover in which the Hebrews quickly turn from being oppressed into oppressors, seem to be negative references, albeit in pursuit of a positive ideal.  In sum, the editors, whether or not inspired by God, seem to have desired the Bible to be a document about which people would argue, and disagree.

The editors of the Jewish Bible seem, in fact, to have approached their materials in essentially the same way most Greeks of that period were treating the Iliad and other stories about the Greeks’ ancestors and their gods.  While some Greeks took the stories literally and prescriptively, as describing the ways they must live and worship, most Greeks, including the major dramatists and philosophers, treated the stories as fictions that described the basic human condition and human problems.  The Greeks’ stories portrayed their Hellene ancestors as people very different from themselves, and as people who solved their problems in ways very different from the ways contemporary Greeks would solve similar problems.  This appears to be the approach of the Bible’s editors, who seemingly would not have endorsed much of the behavior of either the Hebrews or the Hebrew God in the Pentateuch.  And this is also the approach of secular Jews.

Orthodox Jews endlessly scrutinize the Torah looking for answers to life’s questions among the book’s contradictory pronouncements, many of which are long out of date and just plain embarrassing.  If  the Torah is the Word of God that reflects God’s Will, what is one to make, for example, of the Pentateuch’s requirement that adulterers be stoned to death?  If the Hebrew God in the Pentateuch is the God of peace and justice that Orthodox Jews ostensibly worship today, what is one to make of the Hebrew God’s ordering the genocidal slaughter of the Midianites and Canaanites?  If the Torah is literally true, what is one to make of the detailed specifications provided by the Hebrew God in the Pentateuch for making altars and other religious items with which He is supposed to be worshiped, but that cannot actually be followed?  The instructions just do not work, and they include materials and other things that were not available to Hebrews at the time God ostensibly gave these orders.

Jews today do not believe in stoning adulterers to death or in committing genocide.  And few try to build the alters specified in the Pentateuch.  The Torah is filled with internal inconsistencies, and with conflicts between what is required therein and what Jews, including Orthodox Jews, actually believe and do.  Orthodox Jews who take the Bible literally are hard put to rationalize these things.  Even Conservative and Reform Jews end up resorting to apologetics in trying to explain away the Bible’s incongruities and, thereby, save what they see as the sanctity of the Bible.  Christians who take a literal view of the Old Testament face a similar problem, and are forced into similar apologetics.  More broadly, this is an example of the problems that can arise when people take a text literally, and treat it as the answer to all of life’s important questions, whether the text be the Bible, Das Capital or Winnie the Pooh.

Secular Jews have no such problems because they approach the Bible as a starting point for discussion, rather than an ending point.  And they conclude that given the conflicts and contradictions in the Bible, and the unfathomable questions that it raises, even if the Bible is the Word of God or has been divinely inspired, God seems to agree with the secularists.

  1. Defining Judaism: The Minyan as Metaphor and Model.

In addition to accepting the Torah as a starting point of Jewish identity, a second thing that defines someone as a Jew is the person’s participation in a Jewish community.  Judaism is a communal credo.  Whether one considers Jewishness in the Orthodox way as a religion with ethnic characteristics, or in the secular way as an ethnicity and culture with a religious background, there is general agreement among Jews that one cannot be a Jew all by oneself.  This fraternalism is symbolized by the religious requirement of at least ten people (men for the Orthodox, men and/or women for the Reform) in order to conduct a prayer service.

Jewish communalism can be either broadly humanitarian or narrowly clannish depending on how one defines the community.  Most Orthodox, and even many Conservative and some Reform Jews, for example, claim that Jews are “the Chosen People,” based on the favoritism that God showed to Abraham and the Hebrews in the Bible.  Many also claim, for this same reason, that Jews have an exclusive right today to occupy Palestine.  The Hebrews were God’s  people, they say, and God gave Palestine to them and their descendants, who are the Jews of today.

Using the Jewish Bible to establish the supposedly superior position of the Jews is a form of bootstrapping argument.  There is no historical evidence in support of the claim that God specially chose the Hebrews and gave them Palestine.  In fact, there is no historical evidence for any of the stories in the Pentateuch, and these stories are almost certainly mythological.  That is, they were invented by later Jews in order to shed light on the meaning of Judaism.  In any case, even if one accepts the Torah’s account of God’s favoritism to the Hebrews as actual history, or as a divinely inspired myth that reflects holy truth, there are at least two additional problems with the argument that Jews are “the Chosen People” who have exclusive rights to Palestine.

First, while the Hebrews may be predecessors of the Jews, the Jews are not Hebrews, and the differences between the two peoples are decisive.  They can be described as similar to the differences between Homo Erectus and Homo Sapiens in human evolution.  They were two different, albeit related, species.  The Pentateuch tells the story of the Hebrews from their origins in Abraham to their escape from Egypt and approach to Palestine.  These Hebrews worshiped a fierce tribal god very different from the image of the benevolent universal God worshiped by most Jews.  Hebrew worship centered around animal and vegetable sacrifices on an altar and in a temple, whereas Jewish religion centers around prayer and study that takes place in a synagogue.  The Hebrews’ religion was led by priests who were considered special people with a special relationship to God.  Judaism is led by rabbis who are essentially just teachers.  The differences between Hebrews and Jews are so great that it does not seem plausible that promises made to Abraham and the Hebrews could carry over to the Jews.  The promises certainly do not have the appearance of a legally enforceable contract.

Second, even if one accepts that Jews have a right to call themselves a “Chosen People” and to occupy Palestine based on God’s promises to Abraham, then so too do Christians and Muslims.  The Torah, or Old Testament, is one of the sacred books of Christians and Muslims, and they revere Abraham as the father of their religions.  They would, therefore, have reason to claim to be God’s “Chosen People” and to have the right to occupy Palestine.  And this right would seemingly include the present-day Palestinians, with whom the Jewish Israelis are contesting the land of Palestine.  So, even if one accepts the premises of the  Orthodox, one cannot accept their arbitrary conclusions.  In turn, the right to occupy Palestine would seemingly be a fit subject for negotiation and compromise, rather than unilateral religious fiat.

Jewish communalism can also, however, be broadly humanitarian, rather than narrowly sectarian.  The Torah describes the development over time of an ethic that both binds Jews to each other and connects Jews with the rest of humankind.  The prophets Isaiah and Amos, for example, preached in favor of social justice, and the brotherhood and sisterhood of all humankind.  Theirs was an ethic that Rabbi Hillel encapsulated in his summary of the Torah with a version of the Golden Rule: “Do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you.”  Versions of the Golden Rule are promoted by some eighty major religions and philosophies.  From the version of Hillel’s contemporary Jesus –“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” — to Kant’s later Categorical Imperative — “Act as though the principle of your action is a universal prescription” — the Golden Rule is well nigh a universal principle.  It is the ethic that has prompted disproportionate numbers of European and American Jews to participate in humanitarian civic and political movements over the last one hundred and seventy-five years.  And it is a founding principle of secular Judaism.

  1. Delineating Secular Judaism: Not Religious but not Atheist Either.

Secular Judaism is defined by the same two starting points as the other forms of Judaism: the Jewish Bible and Jewish communalism.  Although secular Jews generally regard the Torah stories as mythological rather than historical, the Torah is still seen by secularists as the foundation of Jewish history, Jewish views of God and the universe, and Jewish ethics.

There is no historical evidence for the existence of the Hebrews or any of the events in the Pentateuch, and there is only scant evidence for some of the other persons and events in the rest of the Bible.  There is no evidence, for example, for Moses or the exodus of the Hebrews from Egypt, let alone the Tower of Babel and all those patriarchs who lived for hundreds of years.  There is also no historical evidence for the existence of David or Solomon or Solomon’s empire.  But the Biblical stories provide Jews with a sense of how their predecessors felt about themselves and how they envisioned a trajectory for their history.  Jews can then develop their own course of history based on accepting or rejecting the values of the Biblical characters and answering the questions raised by the Biblical stories.  How do we as Jews envision the arc of history?  How can we contribute to a humanitarian future of the sort imagined by Isaiah and Amos, rather than a vicious cycle of violence of the sort we see, for example, in the interplay between Moses and the Pharaoh in the Exodus story?

Despite the claims of the Orthodox that they revere and follow the Torah, Jews have not practiced most of the rituals prescribed in the Torah for at least two thousand years and their image of God is very different from that presented in the Pentateuch.  Jews, including the Orthodox, have long since abandoned the animal sacrifices required in the Pentateuch.  And Jews, including the Orthodox, have long since rejected the Pentateuch’s image of a murderous God who, for example, summarily killed a Hebrew who accidentally got one of those animal sacrifices slightly wrong.  But the rituals described in the Torah and the varying images of God — sometimes jealous and murderous tribal god, sometimes generous and beneficent god of humanity, sometimes abstract principle of benevolence and/or justice that pervades the universe — provide Jews with a starting point and framework for discussing questions about God and the pros and cons of religion.  How can we think about life, the world and the possibility of God in ways that are consistent with the humanitarianism described in many of the Psalms?  How do we avoid the anger, narrowness and vengefulness that we see in other places in the Torah?

Finally, although Jews have not followed most of the Torah’s ethical injunctions for at least two thousand years — even the Orthodox, have, for example, long since rejected the Pentateuch’s requirement that disobedient children be stoned to death — there are important ethical guidelines that can be derived from the Torah.  The arc of the Torah stories suggests the development of a broad humanitarian ethic of the sort that Rabbi Hillel summarized in his version of the Golden Rule.  The Golden Rule is, however, not an answer.  It is merely a benchmark for thinking about ethical questions.  How do we organize our daily lives and our social institutions so that everyone is treated fairly?  The Golden Rule provides a framework for discussing ethical issues that are derived from the Torah, but do not require belief in the Torah’s literal truth.

The ambiguities, contradictions, and archaisms in the Torah require Jews to continually debate ideas about history, ethics, God and humankind’s place in the universe.  As a result, the Jewish community has historically been a debating society.  Among the Orthodox, the debate has been about how to find definitive answers in the Torah, and how to sustain an insular purified Jewish community.  Among secularists, the debate has been more broadly about how to maintain a Jewish culture and community, while interacting with the wider non-Jewish society.  The secular debate focuses on the needs of humankind, not merely on what is best for the Jews, and on the goal of implementing the Golden Rule, not merely performing religious rituals to please God.  And it is this broader secular debate, rather than the narrowly religious debate, that has historically been most productive for Jews.

Secular Jews do not necessarily deny the existence of God or deny that faith in God might be meaningful to people.  It is important to distinguish between secularism, agnosticism, and anti-theism (what most people call atheism).  Secularists generally raise two main objections to organized religion.  First, they claim that there are so many different ways of envisioning God and God’s will, and so little evidence of anything having to do with God, that no good can come of involving God in decisions on how to organize and operate our societies.  Secularists want to keep debates about God’s will out of discussions of interpersonal relations and decisions about public policy.  They conclude that people must work through social issues cooperatively, without any individuals or groups insisting that their way is best because they have a mandate from God.

Second, secularists claim that it is a waste of time and effort attempting to find God’s will or to court God’s favor by poring over ostensibly sacred documents or performing elaborate rituals.  There are so many different religious documents and ways of interpreting them, and so many different rituals, that no good can come of insisting on a particular document, interpretation, or ritual.  Secular Jews are especially critical of religious requirements, such as keeping Kosher or keeping the Sabbath on Saturday, that arbitrarily cut Jews off from the wider community in which they live.  But secularism does not itself denote any  position on whether God does or does not exist, or whether people ought to consider God in their personal decisions.

Agnostics are secularists who take their concerns about God’s existence to the next step.  They claim that there is so much uncertainty about God’s existence, and about God’s will, that we ought to keep God out of even our personal decisions.  Agnostics do not deny the existence of God, but merely contend that one must live as though there is no God.  To do otherwise, they conclude, is to leave one open to irrational and unwise decisions based on faith without reason.

Agnostics often distinguish between belief in God — belief being a thought that implies evidence and reason — and faith in God — faith being a feeling that exists without evidence or reason.  They eschew belief in God because they claim there is a lack of solid evidence and sound reasons for such a belief.  At the same time, agnostics generally recognize that many people will experience a faith in God, even though those people do not have sufficient ground for actual belief.  The feeling that there must be a God is almost a reflex with some people.  Agnostics contend, however, that people should keep their faith to themselves and act only on the basis of sufficient evidence and adequate reasons.  Blind faith is not a legitimate basis for action.  While agnostics are secularists, not all secularists are agnostics.

Anti-theists or atheists claim that there is no God, and that any belief or faith in God can lead to no good.  They claim that action based on belief or faith in God is wrong-headed and likely wrong.  Anti-theists are secularists, but most secularists are not anti-theists.

Although secular Jews reject organized religious practices for themselves, they do not necessarily oppose organized religion, so long as religion involves only worship and does not extend its reach into social policy.  Secularists are not intolerant of religious people, but oppose religious people who are intolerant of others.

The Origins of Orthodoxy: Jews for and against Jesus.

Judaism was a popular and populist religion in the pre-Christian era.  This was in large part because of its broad ethical emphasis and relatively loose ritual practices.  Who and what was considered a Jew were liberally construed.  It seems that in most places one was considered Jewish if one attended a synagogue, believed in a universal God, and perused the Torah.  Males generally did not have to be circumcised.  Kosher food rules were relaxed.  Sabbath restrictions were loose. Most people who considered themselves Jews seemingly practiced what we would today consider to be Reform or secular Judaism.

Following the death of Jesus and the expulsion of Jews by the Romans from Jerusalem in the first century CE, Jews and Christians became competitors for adherents.  All of the first Christians were Jews, and many Jews became believers in Jesus as the Messiah.  Many of  them considered themselves to still be Jews, and even argued that since Jesus was himself a Jew, one had to first become a Jew in order to follow Jesus.

This “Jews for Jesus” position did not appeal to early Christian leaders such as Paul, who wanted to appeal to a broader population than merely Jews.  He decreed that Christianity was a new beginning, and that one did not have to be a Jew to be a Christian.  Paul also defined Christianity as primarily a matter of beliefs rather than laws.  In abrogating the Jewish requirements of male circumcision and keeping Kosher, he effectively made it easier to become a Christian than it was to be an Orthodox  Jew, while at the same time tapping into the popular beliefs in a universal God and the Golden Rule ethics promoted by the Jews.

The “Jews for Jesus” position also did not appeal to Jewish leaders, who responded to the apostasy of some Jews and the competition with Christians for adherents by tightening up Jewish regulations and restrictions.  These rabbis sought, thereby, to initiate a reign of orthodoxy and Orthodoxy in which Jews would all follow the same strict rules.  Their purpose was seemingly to sharply distinguish Jews from Christians so as to help keep Jews from becoming Christians, and to exert greater control over the Jewish population.  The rabbis would require those who wanted to be Jews to make a serious commitment.  But instead of helping them compete with Christians, these reforms essentially ensured defeat.

The rabbis’ Orthodox reforms had the purpose and effect of isolating Jews from the rest of the population, but also limiting the number of people who would want to become Jews.  They absolutely required circumcision for males.  Circumcision in those days was a significant operation to perform on an infant and a horrendous procedure for an adult.  With this emphasis on circumcision, Jewish leaders effectively foreclosed the conversion of adult males to Judaism which had swelled the ranks of Jews in the pre-Christian era.

Likewise, a strict adherence to Sabbath restrictions required Jews to live within short walking distance of a synagogue.  This requirement had the effect of creating Jewish neighborhoods and towns which were physically separate from non-Jewish areas.  Strictly enforcing Saturday Sabbath regulations similarly resulted in a separate Jewish workweek that was out-of-step with that of Christians.  This had the effect of creating a Jewish workforce that worked in Jewish businesses, with Jewish businessmen and workers in a separate world of work from non-Jews.  In turn, Kosher laws effectively kept Jews from eating with non-Jews and, thereby, kept Jews from socializing with non-Jews.

The rabbis’ turn to Orthodoxy in the Christian era may have in some sense purified Judaism, but it left Jews with a leadership whose primary purpose seemed to be to keep a small flock intact and under control, rather than to maintain, let alone expand, their numbers or get involved in the wider society.  With the support of non-Jewish political rulers, they were able to make this so.

  1. Rabbis and Businessmen: The Reign of Orthodoxy…or Not.

During the Middle Ages, Christianity and Islam became the predominant religions and cultures within Europe and the Middle East.  During this time, a pattern of Jewish settlement developed that played out in similar ways throughout these regions for some fifteen hundred years.  Christian and Muslim rulers found Jews to be useful, especially in business and economic matters.  As a result, Christian and Muslim rulers generally tolerated, and even encouraged, Jews to settle in largely segregated communities within their lands.

Jews were willing and able to perform commercial services that Christians and Muslims would not do, or could not do as well as Jews.  Catholics, for example, were forbidden to lend money at interest.  As commerce developed during the Middle Ages, money lending became crucial for economic development, so Jews were employed in that capacity.  More important, the insularity and clannishness of Jews made them invaluable for long distance business transactions.

Prior to the communications revolution of the mid-nineteenth century, during which the telegraph, railroad and steamship were developed, commercial transactions largely depended on people knowing and trusting each other.  Personal contact and connections were critical.  This was especially true of transactions between parties separated by long distance, and a few dozen miles could be a long distance in those days.  Agents of distant businesses or governments would have to be recognized and accepted by local people as reliable and trustworthy business partners.  Despite what became a common stereotype among Christians and Muslims of the Jew as a  shyster, Jews were ideally suited to play the role of business agent because they could be trusted.

For one thing, Jews constituted a small fraternal group who tended to be related by extended family connections, and distanced by only a few degrees of separation, no matter how far they lived from each other.  As such, there was a built-in basis of trust among Jews toward each other that did not exist among the much larger and diverse populations of Christians and Muslims.  Unlike Christian and Muslim businessmen, Jewish businessmen living in different parts of Europe and Asia were often related to each other or knew each others’ families.  If Jews could trust each other, then non-Jewish businessmen and government officials could have some confidence that business transactions conducted for them by Jews would not be hijacked by conmen and shysters.

Orthodoxy helped in establishing this confidence among Jews.  It was relatively easy for a person to fake his credentials as a Christian or Muslim. He merely had to profess his belief and be familiar with a few rituals.  But it was very difficult for an impostor or conman to pass himself off as an Orthodox Jew.  Orthodox Jews could easily distinguish someone who was one of their kind, and therefore could be trusted, from someone who was not.  As a consequence, Orthodox Jews could more easily and safely conduct business both for themselves and on behalf of Christian and Muslim clients.  In turn, the tenuous status of small groups of Jews living among large groups of Christians and Muslims made the Jews more trustworthy business associates for the non-Jews.  Christian and Muslim businessmen and rulers could rely on the threat of confiscation of Jewish property, and expulsion of the Jews from their lands, to help keep Jewish businessmen from taking advantage of them.

As a means of organizing and regulating the settlement of Jews in their lands, Christian and Muslim rulers would generally recognize and authorize Orthodox rabbis and businessmen as the elite leaders of the Jewish communities.  Given the insularity of Orthodox Jews, Orthodox leaders could be relied upon to keep ordinary Jews from infecting the Christian and Muslim populations with Jewish religious ideas.  The isolation from the wider society that Orthodox Sabbath and Kosher rules effected was a positive for the Christian and Muslim rulers.  In turn, Jewish communities operated nominally under Orthodox rules and regulation.  I say “nominally” because the only historical evidence we have of what happened in these communities consists of documents written and left by the Orthodox rabbis and businessmen who ran these communities.

The reliability of Orthodox versions of what went on in their communities must be questioned.  While the rabbis would  have been able to require their constituents to perform Orthodox public observances, they could not control their constituents’ thoughts or most of their private activities.  One is reminded of the slave owners in the ante-bellum American South who reported that their slaves were happy and satisfied with their lot as slaves.  These reports may have been sincere, but they were not accurate.  The same is likely to be the case with Orthodox versions of Jewish history.  That is, most Jews were not Orthodox, and were likely what we would call Reform or secular Jews, even though they lived in ostensibly Orthodox communities.  The weak hold that Orthodoxy had on ordinary Jews is evidenced by the weak population numbers of Jews.

It has been estimated that in order to account for the small number of Jews in the world today, an average of some fifty percent of each generation of those who were born as Jews over the last two thousand years must have stopped being Jewish.  For the most part, these people were not defectors who left the fold because Jews were being persecuted, nor were they murdered.  The persecution of Jews has not been historically continuous.  It has been sporadic, even though sometimes horrific, and it has generally been no worse than the persecution of other minorities.

The sporadic persecution of Jews by Christians and Muslims has to be put in the context of the wide range of persecutions and massacres during medieval and modern times.  These include the persecutions and massacres of Muslims by Christians and vice versa, and the persecutions and massacres of each other by Sunni Muslims and Shiite Muslims, and by Catholic Christians and Protestant Christians.  They also include the persecution and slaughter of so-called heretics (Nestorians, Albigensians, Hussites, and Anabaptists, just to name a few) by Catholics, Protestants, and Muslims.  In addition, if you accept the Bible stories as history, the Hebrews repeatedly engaged in religious persecutions and massacres of other peoples.  History is all too full of sectarian religious persecutions and massacres by people who claim to know God’s will and to be His Chosen People, right up to the present day.  In any case, persecution does not seem to be the major reason there have been so few Jews.

The main reason seems to be more mundane.  Most Jews were not rabbis, merchants or bankers.  They were workers and small farmers, who for the most part served the needs of the Jewish community, especially including the rabbis, merchants and bankers.  Orthodoxy was not inherently advantageous to the social and economic positions of ordinary Jews, as it was to the merchants and bankers.  So, many of them defected because being part of an Orthodox Jewish community was difficult in itself, what with all the Sabbath and Kosher restrictions, and because it cut them off from economic and social opportunities in the wider society.  That there have historically been fewer Jews than one would expect is for the most part not because of persecution by non-Jews, but because of the narrowness of life in Orthodox Jewish communities.

There is also reason to believe that most of those who remained Jews and stayed within their Jewish communities were not Orthodox in their beliefs or their private practices.  They may have been required by their leaders to publicly obey Orthodox Sabbath rules and other regulations, but that does not mean they held Orthodox beliefs.  Unlike the defectors from Judaism, they remained Jews probably out of family loyalty, ethnic solidarity, commitment to the Torah, and/or just plain inertia.  The satisfactions they derived from Jewish culture and the support they received from the Jewish community were sufficient to keep them within the fold.  But it is not unlikely they were reformist or secularist in their beliefs and private practices.  Since ordinary Jews did not leave many records of their beliefs or lives — the histories were written by the Orthodox rabbis — the evidence for this conclusion is necessarily circumstantial and speculative.

One piece of circumstantial evidence is the enthusiastic rejection of Orthodox principles and practices by the overwhelming majority of European Jews during the course of the nineteenth century when Jews were no longer required by their Christian and Muslim overlords to live in ghettos ruled by Orthodox rabbis and businessmen.  Conservative, Reform and secular Judaism flourished once Jews were allowed to express themselves, and Orthodoxy became a small minority position among Jews as it remains today.  The reaction of Jews to liberation from their Orthodox ghettos was similar to that of the Russian and Mexican peasants following the Russian and Mexican Revolutions of the early twentieth century.  Russian and Mexican peasants had long been considered by their rulers and by outside observers to be devoted Orthodox Catholics and Roman Catholics, respectively.  But they abandoned their respective churches in droves when given the opportunity, and for the most part have not come back even in the wake of the disappointment and failure of both revolutions.

Liberated from the constraints of a narrow Orthodox intellectual regime that focused almost entirely on the study of the Torah and Talmud, secular Jews began in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century to make disproportionately large contributions to the intellectual and cultural life of the wider society.  And they did so while still identifying themselves as Jews and dealing with Jewish issues and themes.  These were people who inherited the Jewish tradition of debating important issues raised in the Torah, and who applied their critical thinking and creativity to broader issues and fields of human endeavor.  They were people who absorbed the fraternalism of the Jewish community, and extended their humanitarianism to all of humankind.  For starters, think of Einstein in physics, Freud in psychology, Bergson in philosophy, Durkheim in sociology, Boaz in anthropology, Kafka in literature, Chagall in art, Copeland in music.  The list is enormous and it continues to the present day.

Another piece of circumstantial evidence is the fact that the views I am expressing in this essay are not new, even if they are unorthodox.  The great majority of Jews over the past 175 years, as they have been liberated from the ghettos and shtetls, have rejected Orthodoxy, and many have asked the sorts of questions and entertained the sorts of views that I have been raising in this essay.  There is no good reason to believe that Jews confined in prior times under Orthodox rule did not do likewise, even if they were not able to leave records of their views and did not make it into the records of their Orthodox rulers.  It would be insulting to the memory of past Jews to believe that they were not capable of thinking critically and independently about these issues.

Orthodoxy may be a main reason that Jewish ghettos and other segregated Jewish communities survived, but Orthodoxy is not thereby the reason that Judaism has survived.  Religious Jews contend that without the binding power of religion, Judaism would have disappeared in the past and will disappear in the future.  They claim that secular Jewish philosophy, history, culture and ethics are not enough to sustain Judaism.  Secular Judaism is self-defeating, they conclude.

But the history of the Jews seems to contradict these contentions, and the history of my own family over the last 125-150 years seems to support the staying power of secular Judaism.  I speak as part of the middle generation of at least five generations of secular Jews in my family.  My paternal great grandparents in Russia during the mid-nineteenth century may have been explicitly secular, but I am not sure.  In any case, my paternal and maternal grandparents were secular Jews, first in Russia and then in America.  My parents were secular Jews, as are my siblings and our children.  And my grandson is being raised as a secular Jew.  The overwhelming majority of my aunts, uncles and cousins and my cousins’ children have also been or are secular Jews.  Many have married non-Jews, but have raised or are raising their children as secular Jews.  In sum, my family is not merely maintaining but increasing the number of secular Jews.

“And yet it moves,” Galileo supposedly mumbled under his breath, referring to the earth when he was forced by the Catholic hierarchy to recant his proof that the earth revolves around the sun, rather than vice versa as it says in the Old Testament.  The claims of Orthodox Jews that secularism is barren, and that theirs is the only way for Jews to survive as a people, are just not so.  These are the sorts of claims that long-established social and cultural elites regularly make about challenges to their predominance, especially when orthodox religious leaders are confronted with a secular challenge to their dogma.

The Renaissance in the later Middle Ages, the scientific revolution in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century were all condemned on this basis.  In each case, apologists for the established elites warned that deviating from orthodoxy would destroy civilization, and in each case they were wrong.  Each of these movements spawned significant secular developments in science, philosophy and the arts, and created new opportunities for liberty, equality and fraternity for more people.  Rather than destroying Western society, these movements helped regenerate it.  A secular and cultural approach to Judaism could have a similar effect on the Jewish community.

Although Jews are few in numbers, this could be an advantage at this relatively early stage of post-ghetto Jewish history.  Small numbers makes it easier for more people to participate and to participate more fully in the community’s development.  This was true, for example, of the community of patriots that founded the United States.  But just as it was important for eighteenth century Americans to stop thinking of themselves as lesser Englishmen, it is important for secular Jews to stop seeing themselves as merely non-religious or ersatz Jews.  And it is important for us to know and be able to present Judaism as more than just blintzes and bagels.  We must see ourselves as real Jews carrying forward ancient traditions of critical debate rooted in the Torah, and progressively developing Hillel’s conception of the Golden Rule as the underlying meaning of the Torah.  Such a program would be a way and a reason for Judaism to survive and thrive.

Shakespeare, Shylock and “The Merchant of Venice”: Protestants, Catholics and the Jewish Question in Elizabethan England

Shakespeare, Shylock and The Merchant of Venice:

Protestants, Catholics and the Jewish Question in Elizabethan England

Burton Weltman

1. The Jewish Question and The Merchant of Venice.

The Merchant of Venice is probably the most troubling of Shakespeare’s plays for modern directors, actors, scholars and audiences.  In the wake of the Nazi Holocaust, antisemitism of even the genteel sort that was common among the European and American upper classes during the nineteenth and early twentieth century, and that was regularly found in literature and drama of the period, is no longer acceptable in public.  It is not that antisemitism has disappeared from the world.  It is just not generally acceptable to promote antisemitism in a play.  The problem with The Merchant of Venice is how to present and portray the greedy Jewish money lender Shylock, a central character in the play, without appearing to be antisemitic.

Antisemitic portrayals of Shylock had hitherto been standard fare.  Although the overwhelming majority of Jews were historically among the working class poor and did not engage in commerce, the common stereotype of the Jew from at least Shakespeare’s time to the twentieth century was based on the relatively few Jews who were bankers and merchants and who were often denigrated by Christians as mercenary money grubbers.

The Merchant of Venice was generally presented as a dramatization of what during the nineteenth century was termed “the Jewish question.” This was the question of what decent Christian society should do with an alien religious sect of Jews that was typified by the disreputable shyster Shylock.  The Holocaust has made this question and this interpretation of the play unacceptable in polite society.

Modern interpreters of the play have, as a result, had to scramble to try to reshape the presentation of Shylock.  But they do not seem able to get it right.  I have read many interpretations of The Merchant of Venice and seen many performances, most recently during the summer of 2013 at the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario.  I have seen directors try vocal modulations, pantomime gestures and other stage directions to soften the harshness of the language that the Christians use against Shylock and to undercut the cruelty of the actions these characters take against him.  Nothing of that sort seems to work.  The Christian characters’ language is blunt and blatant.  Their actions are coarse and cruel.  Shylock is still treated as a despised Jew.  The play still comes off as antisemitic.

But it does not have to be that way and I do not think Shakespeare intended it that way.  The problem is that directors and interpreters have remained locked into a conventional way of presenting the Christian characters in the play as exemplary people.  The solution, in turn, is seemingly simple: As bad as the Jew Shylock is in the play, the main Christian characters, including Antonio the so-called merchant of Venice, are worse.  And that, I think, is the main point of the play.

2. Literature and the Method of History as Choice.

Interpreting literature is much like interpreting history.  A historian who is trying to make sense of a historical situation will have at hand a body of facts which must be accounted for in the historian’s interpretation.  For many situations, there may be more than one plausible interpretation that fits the available facts.  As a result, the historian often has to make a choice among differing legitimate interpretations.

Similarly, the director or other interpreter of a play has a script of written words that are like a historian’s facts.  The script will contain speeches by the characters, some descriptions of place and action, and some stage directions.  A director or interpreter must adopt a way of approaching the play that fits the words in the script.  But there are often different ways that one can legitimately stage a play and perform what is contained in the script.  These different ways will embody different interpretations of the play and lead to different conclusions about it.  The director or interpreter must choose.

With plays as with historical events, interpretations often take hold because they best fit the preconceptions and prejudices of a given time.  Prejudices against Jews and in favor of Christians played a major part in previous interpretations of The Merchant of Venice.  In turn, as with many social, political and cultural ideas and practices, an out-of-date historical or literary interpretation may hang on long after the reasons for its adoption have passed.  This seems to be the case with The Merchant of Venice.

Even as modern interpreters want to eschew the antisemitism of the past and are willing to portray flaws in Christians, an interpretation of the Merchant of Venice that portrays the main Christian characters as virtuous holds on despite the fact that it inevitably leads to an antisemitic portrait of Shylock.  More important to the integrity of the play, this interpretation does not fit as well with Shakespeare’s script as does one that portrays Shylock as the best of a bad lot.

3. Weltschmerz and Other Discontents in The Merchant of Venice.

The interpretation of the play that I am proposing seems obvious to me from the first line of the first act.  The first act contains three scenes, each of which introduces us to one of the three main characters, first Antonio the merchant, then Portia, a wealthy heiress, and finally Shylock the moneylender.  Each of these scenes begins with a speech from that character which exemplifies his/her personality and values.  Each of these main characters is, in turn, surrounded by a caste of supporting characters who reflect and highlight the main character’s values and person.

Scene One: Antonio.  In the first line of the play, Antonio moans in luxurious self-pity to a group of young followers that “In sooth, I know not why I am so sad, it wearies me, you say it wearies you.”  Posturing world-weariness and boredom with life, Antonio betrays himself as a self-centered, self-indulgent shell of a man.  Not a model of Christian faith and hope.

Antonio is a wealthy speculator who invests in ocean-going merchant vessels that carry valuable goods around the world.  Ocean travel is dangerous and precarious so that this is a risky business, especially for sailors on the ships but also for investors such as Antonio, because ships often do not make it safely to their destinations.  When ships go down, sailors lose their lives and investors lose their money.  But the profits to investors for each successful voyage are so great that they can cover the loss of many ships.  In the course of the play when it appears that ships have been lost, Antonio expresses not one word of concern for the sailors.  His sole concern is for his money.  So much for Antonio’s Christian humanitarianism.

In this first scene, Antonio is sitting at a cafe bemoaning his weltschmerz with several younger men who seem to be idle rakes whose interests run to gossiping, partying and pursuing women.  They are sycophantically commiserating with him.  Antonio’s  protege Bassano joins the party.  Bassano is admittedly a wastrel and spendthrift who has run through his own inheritance and now wants to pursue marriage with the wealthy Portia so that he can take advantage of her inheritance.  Bassano is, however, broke and deep in debt.  He wants a loan from Antonio so that he can put on a good show of wealth for Portia and trick her into marrying him.  Bassano puts this request in purely financial terms as an investment for Antonio that will enable Bassano to repay to Antonio both the new loan and old debts owed by him.  As the scene closes, Antonio agrees to the loan with the caveat that he is currently cash poor so that he will himself have to borrow the money to give to Bassano.

Scene Two: Portia.  The second scene opens in essentially the same way as the first with Portia proclaiming her own weltschmerz to her handmaid: “By my troth Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.”  Portia is a wealthy heiress whose father has left her his money conditioned on her marrying the first man who is able to guess a riddle that he has contrived.  She is lazy and self-indulgent, and is willing to accept the degrading and demeaning conditions imposed on her by her father in order to keep her great wealth.

When her maid Nerissa tells Portia that she is spoiled with too much money and too little to do, Portia admits to the accusation but responds with a classic hypocrite’s rationalization: “If to do were as easy to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces.”  That is, she knows what she should do but does not have the moral strength to do it and does not think others do either.  So much for Portia’s Christian virtue.

Portia is a clever-witted  person whose main delight seems to be in mocking and making fun of others’ foolishness.  She is seemingly a person whose self-loathing and lack of self-respect becomes a rationale for loathing and disrespecting others.  She spends the rest of  the scene belittling and making fun of her prospective suitors.  So much for Portia’s Christian humility.

Scene Three: Shylock.  Shylock’s first words illustrate his character as a man who feels unjustly oppressed but who is generally able to control his anger.  “Three thousand ducats, well” he says when Bassano proposes that Shylock loan him money for Bassano’s Portia venture with Antonio as the guarantor of the loan.  That little word “well” is a telling piece of self-control on Shylock’s part.

Shylock initially bridles internally at the request, for both business reasons he acknowledges to himself and personal reasons he does not like to admit.  Shylock tries publicly to present himself as a man who is concerned only with  business, and who sees Antonio as only a business problem.  But we can see that his deepest resentment against Antonio is personal, and is based on the way Antonio disparages Jews in general and Shylock in particular.

Antonio is a Catholic who objects on religious grounds to money-lending for interest, usury so-called.  For this reason, he claims, he tries to undercut Shylock’s business as a moneylender.  But Antonio also publicly insults Shylock every time they meet, and he has repeatedly spat on Shylock, and has even spat in Shylock’s face without any provocation.  His antisemitism goes beyond mere business differences.

Shylock responds to the requested loan by debating with Antonio whether there is any difference between investing in commerce for profit as Antonio does and lending money for interest as Shylock does.  Shylock cites Biblical passages in support of his contention that they are the same thing and clearly has the better of the argument.  But Antonio won’t admit it and covers his defeat by declaiming to Bassano: “Mark you this, Bassano, the divel can cite Scripture for his purpose.  An evil soul producing holy witness is like a villain with a smiling cheek.”  Unable to beat Shylock in argument, Antonio resorts to insult.

Despite this insult, and maybe because of it, Shylock decides to loan the money to Bassano without any interest owing.  He states his intention of thereby shaming Antonio for defaming him.  Shylock’s only condition is that Antonio pledge a pound of his own flesh as bond for repayment of the loan’s principal.  Both Shylock and Antonio treat this as a playful jest and agree to the terms.  There is at this point no expectation that Antonio will not be able to repay to loan once one of his ships comes in.  As Antonio himself is forced to admit, Shylock is behaving with Christian charity.  In this scene, Shylock shows that, unlike Antonio and Portia, self-respect and the respect of others are more important to him than money.

Subsequent Events.  The end of the first act marks the high point of amity in the play and things run downhill from there.  Bassano succeeds in impressing Portia who, despite her avowed respect for her father and her father’s wishes, cheats on the riddle so that Bassano can guess it and win her hand.  So much for Portia’s honesty.  Antonio resumes his insults of Shylock and helps arrange for a friend to steal Shylock’s beloved daughter and some of Shylock’s wealth away from him.

Antonio is unable to pay back the loan on time and Shylock is so furious at Antonio for the loss of his daughter that he is seemingly prepared to exact the pound of flesh from Antonio and, thereby, kill him.  Portia saves Antonio by pretending to be a learned jurist and convincing the Duke of Venice through spurious sophistry that Shylock is the one who is really at fault.  She convinces the Duke that in return for sparing Shylock’s life, Shylock must forfeit his wealth and convert to Christianity.

In the course of her perorations, Portia makes her famous “quality of mercy speech.”  “The quality of mercy is not strained,” she intones, “It droppeth  as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.  It is twice blest, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes…”  A previously self-admitted hypocrite, Portia declaims this paean to mercy even as she is insisting on the cruelest revenge and savage persecution against Shylock.  Shylock is the one who has attempted to do the most right and who has suffered the most wrong during the play.  Yet he is the one whom she insists on punishing.  So much for the quality of Christian mercy.

Happily Ever After…Not.  Having vanquished Shylock, Portia and her maid play tricks on their respective lovers and get the better of them.  The play ends with what the characters seem to feel is a “happily ever after scene” in which the various lovers come together in wedlock and what they anticipate will be everlasting bliss.  But is this likely?  The husbands are mercenary, feckless, sensitive to insult and prone to violence.  The wives are shrewish, smarter than their husbands and not reluctant to show it.  This is not exactly a recipe for everlasting harmony and bliss.

4. Internal and External Evidence in Interpreting The Merchant of Venice

The best evidence for the interpretation of the play that I am proposing comes from the words of the play itself.  Shakespeare accepts the stereotype of the greedy Jew for dramatic purposes, but then explodes it.  Shylock comes across as a deeply damaged character, but his flaws and faults seem in large part to be a product of his situation and the persecution he has faced.  He displays streaks of genuine humanity that are inconsistent with the attitudes and actions of the Christian characters against him.  His offering to lend the money to Bassano without interest, his grief at the loss of his daughter and the theft of a keepsake from his dead wife, and, especially his passionate “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” speech are evidence that Shakespeare intends us to empathize with Shylock.

The Christian characters have no excuse for their bad behavior toward Shylock.  Until the end of the play when he explodes in anger toward Antonio, Shylock has done nothing to harm them and has only courted their respect.  Given their despicable behavior towards him, it is hard to see them as virtuous or heroic. Likewise, given their own greedy materialism, it is hard to see them as better in that regard than Shylock.  People looking for a one-dimensional play with clear cut heroes and villains may see Shylock’s flaws and then conclude that the Christian characters must be the heroes, but this is mistaken.  Shakespeare wrote many plays that did not have clear cut heroes, for example, Julius Caesar and Coriolanus.  The Merchant of Venice seems to be of this sort.

There is also some historical evidence with respect to Shakespeare’s likely attitudes toward money-lending and toward Jews that seems to support this interpretation.  The prohibition against money-lending for interest which is at the heart of the Christian characters’ antipathy toward Shylock in The Merchant of Venice was a regulation of the Catholic Church.  This was one of the provisions of the Catholic Church that Protestants rejected when they broke from the Church.  Despite controversial claims by some scholars that Shakespeare was somehow a closet Catholic, it seems pretty clear from his plays that Shakespeare was a patriotic Protestant in an anti-Catholic country and, as such, would likely have wanted to promote the Protestant position on money-lending.

Many of Shakespeare’s plays take place in Catholic countries such as Venice or during times when England was Catholic.  In these plays, priests are invariably portrayed as, at best, well-intentioned fools who cause unintended mischief — for example, in Romeo and Juliet in which the priest is the inadvertent cause of the lovers’ deaths.  Church officials in Shakespeare’s plays are invariably portrayed as malicious connivers — for example, in Henry V and King John in which they induce England into disastrous wars for the benefit of the Church.

In The Merchant of Venice, Shylock makes what was essentially the Protestant argument in favor of money-lending for interest in his debate against the Catholic Antonio.  Shylock claims that profit-making on investments is essentially the same as money-lending at interest and has the better of the argument.  This seems to be Shakespeare’s argument.  In addition, despite their vehement denunciations of Jewish usury, the Christians in the play do not hesitate to borrow money at interest from Jews in order to pursue their investment strategies.  This was the reality in most Catholic countries including England when it was Catholic.  Catholics used Jews as the fronts for their own profit-making enterprises.  Shakespeare seems to portray this as hypocritical.

In addition to ideological and theological evidence, there also seems to be some family evidence that Shakespeare’s father was a money lender and was even jailed for this practice at one point by the then Catholic authorities.  And there is some speculation that Shakespeare himself engaged in some small-time money-lending.  If this is so, he would not likely have wanted his play to be seen as a diatribe against money-lenders.

Finally, there is some evidence respecting Jewish law and Shakespeare’s knowledge of Jews.  At the heart of the case against Shylock is his accepting the pledge of a pound of Antonio’s flesh as bond for the loan to Bassano and his insistence at the end of the play on exacting the pound of flesh.  Exacting the pound of flesh would have been a blatant violation of Talmudic Jewish law.  A Jew cannot demand fulfillment of a debt that causes physical harm to someone.  If Shakespeare wrote the play with any knowledge of Jews and Jewish law, Shylock could not initially have intended the bond as anything but a jest in which the Christian Antonio was symbolically putting his life in the hands of the Jew Shylock.

And there is reason to believe that Shakespeare knew a fair amount about Jews as he apparently lived for a time in the Jewish quarter of London.  As we can see from the play itself, Shakespeare was seemingly knowledgeable about the persecution and perilous situation of Jews in England in which it was illegal to be Jewish until the 1650’s.  Jews such as Shylock lived in England during Shakespeare’s time only at the sufferance of antisemitic Christians such as Antonio and only to the extent Christians found the Jews to be useful.  That Shylock appears to be willing to exact the pound of flesh from Antonio at the end of the play — and we do not know if he would have actually gone through with it — seems a testament to the overflowing of Shylock’s outrage and hurt at the way he has been treated.

5. The Shylock Question and History as Choice.

So what are we to make of Shylock and why should we care?

I think we can distinguish two aspects of Shylock in the play.  There is Shylock the miserly moneylender who openly and honestly articulates and practices mercenary values that the hypocritical Christians deny and denounce, but nonetheless practice themselves.  This Shylock is largely a creation of the Christians as a tool for their own business purposes and as a scapegoat for their bad consciences.  They project their own materialism onto him and then decry it in him and deny it in themselves.

Then there is Shylock the Jew who is a narrow-minded money grubber because money grubbing is the only path to success and to some measure of respect allowed him in the Christian society.  He is a bitter man who craves the respect of his Christian fellows and who will exact it through revenging himself on them if they won’t otherwise give it to him.  He is a scapegoat who kicks.

I think that Shakespeare has written a play about Christian ideals and their debasement by Christians through their debasement of Jews.  The play is not usually performed in this way.  But I think it is important that we see that it can be performed in this way.  In so doing, I am not merely trying to rescue Shakespeare from the taint of antisemitism.  I am also trying to rescue that period in history from a one-dimensional interpretation as antisemitic and, thereby, to suggest new possibilities for what people in Shakespeare’s time might have understood.  Maybe they were not as antisemitic as we have thought.  Maybe there were currents of empathy and tolerance that could have led England in a different direction if other choices had been made.

Whenever we uncover new possibilities in the past — new options for what could have happened as well as new ways of understanding what did — we discover new possibilities for understanding the present and creating a better future.   This hope is the underlying rationale for studying history and literature as a process of people making choices.

Postscript:

I wrote this essay two years ago.  It has come to my attention that the British director Jonathan Dumby recently staged at Lincoln Center in New York and at Navy Pier in Chicago a version of The Merchant of Venice that is substantially similar to the interpretation I am suggesting in the essay.  See the reviews by Charles Isherwood in The New York Times (July 7, 2016) and by Chris Jones in The Chicago Tribune (August 8, 2016).  Although I live in Chicago, I was unfortunately unable to see the play because the tickets were sold out before I could get my act together to get some.  Hopefully, the play will come around again.

Burt Weltman   August 10, 2016

Limiting the Sum of Lincoln’s “Some:” Democracy, Mobocracy and Majority Rule.

Limiting the Sum of Lincoln’s “Some:” Democracy, Mobocracy and Majority Rule.

Burton Weltman

Abraham Lincoln and Democracy as a Fools’ Paradise? 

Abraham Lincoln famously said that you can fool all of the people some of the time and some of the people all of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.  This is, I think, a great formulation of political wisdom, and the conclusion that you can’t fool everybody all of the time has been taken as an expression of hope for the world.  Demagogues and shysters may have their way for a while, Lincoln conceded, but we cannot all be fooled by them all of the time.  So, his is a statement of hope for democracy, but it is also a statement of concern.  Lincoln’s underlying concern lies in the word “some” that appears in the first two clauses of his statement, that you can fool everyone some of the time and you can fool some of the people all of the time.  The word “some” in these clauses begs the question as to how long can you fool all of the people, and what proportion of the population can be perpetually fooled?  Most important, Lincoln leaves us with the all-important question of how can we minimize the sum of these “somes?”  How can we minimize number of people who are fooled and the duration of their being fooled?  That was one of Lincoln’s main concerns for American democracy, and remains a concern for us today.

To be foolish is to think that you are expert in something that you know little about, and to think that you are wise in ways that you lack good sense.  It is a failing to which most of us all-too-easily fall prey.  Most people are knowledgeable about things with which they are regularly involved, their jobs for example.  People are generally willing and able to think about such things in complex terms and to reach nuanced conclusions.  At the same time, most people know very little about things with which they are not regularly involved, for example politics and government.  But that does not stop them from thinking that they need to know all about those things, or that they do.  What most people do in that situation is to insist that things about which they are ignorant are really quite simple, and to latch onto some simplistic slogans that supposedly embody the truth about those things. With respect to government and politics, for example, they may latch onto Fox News talking points about government and politics.

The tendency of people to think simplistically about politics and government is a problem in a democracy such as ours.  As citizens of a democracy, we are all supposed to participate in choosing our government, deciding what actions it should take, and monitoring its performance.  Few people, however, actually know anything about how government works.  They don’t study it, and they don’t have government jobs that might familiarize them with the workings of government.  Their personal contacts with government are minimal and usually involve unpleasant matters, such as paying taxes and traffic tickets and complaining when something goes wrong.  At the same time, most people take for granted the services that government routinely and regularly provides, such as clean water, paved roads, street lights, etc.  They assume those things are simple, and many don’t even realize they are a product of government.  It is this ignorance of how government works, coupled with the arrogance of thinking that government is simple, that leaves people open to being fooled by demagogues and shysters who preach bumper sticker slogans and sell simplistic half-truths.

How can democracy function with a public that can be fooled in total some of the time and in part all of the time?  That is the gist of Lincoln’s concern.

Edmund Burke and the Conservatives’ Case against Democracy. 

Edmund Burke, who is generally considered the father of modern conservatism, believed that the general public was not capable of playing a constructive role in government.  That is why he favored an aristocratic and elitist form of government over democracy.  Cultivate an elite class of leaders, Burke claimed, give them the reins of government, and all will be well.  Give power to the people, and you will end up with what we might today call a mobocracy — violent and oppressive rule by the ignorant masses.  Burke warned that the ignorance and impatience of the masses would leave them open to demagoguery — the simplistic sloganeering of malicious leaders who appeal to peoples’ fears and hatreds.  Subservience to demagogues would lead the masses to violence and society to ruin.  In this context, Burke railed against the mobocracy that he claimed was destroying France during the French Revolution of the late eighteenth century.

Burke was particularly opposed to majority rule.  Majority rule, he warned, can quickly devolve into mobocracy in which racial, religious, ethnic and political majorities oppress minorities, impose the majority’s ideas on everyone else, and give no one else a chance for power.  This is a significant issue for us today.  We have seen in recent years many countries around the world where dictatorships have been succeeded by mobocracies which, in turn, may soon be succeeded by new dictatorships.  This was a vicious cycle of dictatorship and mobocracy that worried many of the ancient Greeks, and that worried Burke about democracy.

Burke was also concerned about destructive social changes that he thought would inevitably result from democracy.  The masses, he warned, would be misled by ideologues and demagogues into supporting first one and then another futile radical reform.  This is also a significant issue for us today.  Burke claimed that the ability of humans to predict and control the consequences of their actions was limited, and that the potential for unintended negative consequences outweighed the potential for positive consequences in any radical reform.  Burke was, therefore, unwilling to support radical reforms that proposed to make things better because he believed the resulting unintended negative consequences were likely to make things worse.  He was not, however, opposed to all social change, and he was willing to support modest social reforms that were intended to ameliorate hardship and keep a bad situation from getting worse.

Burke was a pragmatic conservative.  He was not a right-wing ideologist of the sort that today parades as conservative, but is actually radically reactionary and regressive.  Self-styled Tea Party conservatives, religious conservatives, and social conservatives of today want to radically change society back to ways that they believe were better in days long past.  They are not conservatives but radical right-wingers, ideologues and demagogues of the sort Burke feared would dominate in a democracy.  Burke would likely cite their popularity as proof of his arguments against democracy.  Burke and conservatives since his time have generally claimed that liberty and equality, and freedom and democracy, are distinct and incompatible.  Liberty, freedom, minority rights and social stability are safe, they say, only in the hands of an entrenched and enlightened elite.  In a democracy, demagogues of the left and right will invariably take advantage of the masses to destroy liberty, and to wreak havoc on society.

The Founders’ Democratic Faith.

The Founders of this country agreed with Burke about the dangers of majority rule, but rejected his vision of democracy.  Democracy as it was envisioned by them, and embodied in the Constitution, is more properly conceived of as majority rule with minority rights, with the most important of these rights being the right of the minority to someday become the majority.  Guaranteeing the right of minorities to freely function and someday possibly become the majority was a key concern of the Founders, and is the underlying rationale for the Bill of Rights.  While the Founders believed in government of the best and brightest, they also believed that ordinary people could and would recognize and choose the best and brightest as their leaders.  And they believed that the constitutional system they had established provided an institutional framework for successfully combining liberty and democracy.

At the same time, the Founders did not think that the history of democracy in the United States would be an easy progression.  They anticipated a perpetual struggle over the terms and practices of democracy, and they provided in their Constitution for the ways and means of amendment and interpretation that would embody that struggle in what they hoped would be peaceful conflict.  Things did not always work the way the Founders hoped, as exemplified by the Civil War, the various Red Scares and other episodes of intolerance and oppression of minorities in our history.  But as the Founders expected, there has been an ebb and flow of liberty and democracy in the history of this country.

Conventional History, History as Choice and the Case for and against Democracy.

You would not, however, get from conventional histories of the United States the impression that democracy has been a highly contested term and precarious practice.  To the contrary, while conventional histories generally admit that the country has moved from being less democratic to being more democratic, they generally describe American history as an inevitable march toward democracy.  And in so doing, most histories simplistically define democracy as majority rule, and describe the rise of American democracy simplistically in terms of the rise of majority rule.  This is a one-dimensional definition and a one-dimensional narrative that not only makes for bad history, it is undemocratic history.

The problem is that conventional history is essentially winners’ history.  It focuses almost solely on what happened, and leaves out what could have happened.  It provides you with little idea of what the various options were in any given situation, why a given option was chosen over the others, and what might have happened if a different option had been chosen.  The losers are lost in this sort of history.  The minorities who did not prevail are dismissed.  This sort of history does not portray the struggle over democracy, or the struggles within a democratic system.  It provides people with little education in how politics and government actually work, and how they might go about making choices as democratic citizens.  And it plays into the sort of one-dimensional ideological narratives promoted by right-wing and left-wing demagogues.

History as choice resurrects the options, debates, choices, consequences (both intended and unintended), and alternative possibilities of the past, and portrays a multi-dimensional past that looks and feels like the multi-dimensional present.  In so doing, it recognizes the importance of the losers in history, the minorities who may eventually became the majority, sometimes for the better — as in the case of the civil rights advocates who lost in the 1860’s-1870’s, but came back to win during the 1960’s-1970’s — and sometimes for the worse – as with laissez-faire economics which was completely discredited and discarded during the early twentieth century, but has regained credibility and influence during the early twenty-first century.  Approaching history in this way helps you to understand how government and politics work, and helps prepare you for the choices that you need to make as a democratic citizen today.

History as Choice and Limiting the Sum of Lincoln’s “Some.” 

But history as choice is not simple or simplistic.  And most people do not have the time or energy to engage in complex historical studies.  Which brings us back to Burke’s challenge to democracy.   How can we expect ordinary people to be informed and intelligent citizens?  How can we minimize the sum of perpetual fools that worried Lincoln?  What is to be done?  I can suggest at least three things:

First, I think that those of us who are students and teachers of history have an obligation to approach history in ways that I characterize as approaching history as choice.  This method is by no means unique to me.  Even the phrase “history as choice” is used by many others, and is the way that most students and teachers approach history when they are doing what they consider their best work.  Studying history can and should be practice for living in a democratic society.

Second, I think that we all have to recognize and acknowledge that we cannot know everything about all the things we want and need to know about.  We have to rely for most things in this world on the experience and expertise of others.  That does not mean we have to depend on a permanent class of elite leaders as Burke would have us.  The democratic alternative to elite leadership is revolving leadership in which those in the know on a given issue can and will be allowed to take the lead on that issue.  But those who lead on one issue may not necessarily lead on the next issue.  On the next issue, different leaders may emerge.

In this context, possibly the most important question that we all have to answer in deciding most issues is “Whom do we trust?”  And a key to answering that question is to look for people to trust who neither claim that things are simple nor provide simplistic answers.  You would not rely on a doctor who merely mouthed the advertising slogans for medicines that you see on TV.  So why would we want to rely on politicians who do likewise?  We should look, instead, for people who approach problems pragmatically rather than dogmatically, deal with them in depth, and provide more than bumper sticker solutions.  Studying history as choice can help us develop the skills needed to identify those who can be trusted to lead on important issues.

Third, while Franklin Roosevelt may have exaggerated when he claimed that “We have nothing to fear but fear itself,” the politics of fear and hate is the province of demagogues who appeal to our lowest emotions in order to fool and manipulate us.  We must, instead, look for ideas, policies and leaders that emphasize the politics of hope, inclusion and cooperation.  Studying history as choice can help us to distinguish the politics of hope from the politics of fear.  We must understand how and why sometimes bad options are chosen with good options ignored, and vice versa.  We must understand how and why sometimes bad people flourish, but other times good people do.  We must explore the ways in which sometimes losers become winners, and winners become losers.  This is the ebb and flow of our daily lives and of history, and these studies can help us distinguish between what we should fear and what we can hope and trust.  Yes, there are things to fear, but fear is the worst of these things, and the thing we should fear the most.  That we can overcome our fears and our ignorance is the hope that Lincoln left us with, and the best way to meet Burke’s challenge to democracy.

What do you think?

Postscript:  For further discussion of history as choice and democracy see my book Was the American Revolution a Mistake? Reaching Students and Reinforcing Patriotism through Teaching History as Choice (AuthorHouse, 2013).

Whalers, Whales and Morality Tales: Voyages of Discovery in Melville’s “Moby Dick.” What’s with all those boring whale chapters?

Whalers, Whales and Morality Tales:

Voyages of Discovery in Melville’s Moby Dick.

What’s with all those boring whale chapters?

Burton Weltman

“Over the years you have been

hunted by men who threw harpoons”

Crosby, Stills & Nash

Preface: Boring is as boring does.  

Herman Melville’s Moby Dick is often acclaimed as “the great American novel.”  But it is a book more honored than read.  People often say that it may be great, but it is boring.  And I think that if you take the conventional approach to reading the book, it may be a bore.  But it does not have to be that way.

History as Choice and Moby Dick

“And in the long run he will kill you to fed the pets we raise, put the flowers in your vase and make the lipstick for your face.”  Crosby, Stills & Nash

Call me Ishmael, says the narrator in the opening words of the book.  He is a self-described outcast, outsider, wanderer, and seeker.  He is a loner who needs continually to choose how to live with others and how to make a decent way through life.  A model for an existentialist hero from Sartre or Camus, he experiences life as a succession of voyages of discovery, both literally and figuratively.  Surviving the destruction of the whaling ship Pequod by the white whale Moby Dick, he lives to tell its tale and to retell his own history as a series of fateful choices.

Moby Dick is a history book.  It is also a mystery, a romance, a gothic story and many other things.  But it is first and foremost a history book that combines a fictional history of the Pequod’s last voyage with a factual history of whales and whaling as these things were known circa 1850.  The author, Herman Melville, has alternated chapters that follow the storyline of the Pequod Captain Ahab’s monomaniacal obsession with killing the white whale with chapters that describe and discuss whales and whaling in general.

The conventional approach to reading and understanding Moby Dick focuses on the Ahab storyline and essentially dismisses the book’s discussion of whales and whaling as some kind of extraneous complement to the Ahab story.  Approached in this way, the chapters on the whales seem to clog up the works and get in the way of the Ahab storyline, and the book as a whole may seem more tedious than it is worth.

In focusing so singularly on Ahab’s monomania, the conventional approach to Moby Dick is similar to most conventional approaches to history.  It is, like them, essentially a one-dimensional explanation of events based on a simple chain of causation and, like them, it is unsatisfactory.  But the book can also be approached through the lens of history as people making choices.  Taking this approach, we can look for the debates in the book, the alternatives available to the characters, and the choices they make.  And we can evaluate their options and choices compared with our own.  The book becomes like real life.

Instead of a one-dimensional narrative, the book becomes a multi-layered story portraying a multi-tiered series of choices, a voyage of discovery for the narrator, the characters, and the reader that dramatizes many of the social and intellectual issues of Melville’s time and ours.  Looked at as an example of writing, reading and thinking about history as people making choices, the book becomes, complex, enlightening and exciting, even including the chapters on the whales.

Competing Narratives: Whalers versus Whales. 

“Over the years, you swam the ocean following feelings of your own.”  Crosby, Stills & Nash

While the conventional approach to Moby Dick focuses almost solely on the Ahab narrative line, the book in fact consists of two equally important narrative lines.  One follows Ahab, Ishmael and his fellow whalers on the Pequod as they hunt for whales, especially for Moby Dick, and ends with Moby Dick’s destruction of the ship.  On the whole, this narrative line is almost always interesting and often exciting.

The other narrative line consists of a series of intermittent essays discussing whales and whaling.  Many of these essays, especially those in the first part of the book, are dry as dust and seem boring to most readers.  These essays are the primary reason why the book is more honored than read.  No sooner do many readers encounter the first such chapter entitled “Cetology” than they decide that this is not a book they want to continue reading.  But tedious as some of the early chapters on whales may be – and you can probably skim them if you want – they are not merely an extraneous add-on.  Rather, they are crucial to Ishmael’s voyages of discovery in the book and the reader’s as well.

The two narrative lines develop for the most part in opposite directions and often clash, reflecting Ishmael’s ambivalence and changing opinions with regard to his two main subjects, whalers and whales, as he narrates his story.  In the early chapters, whalers are idealized and idolized as heroic specimens of humanity.  Whales are presented as merely specimens of fish that are useful for commercial exploitation. (Ishmael insists on defining whales as “spouting fish with horizontal tales” and dismissing their resemblance to mammals such as humans.)  But as the book proceeds, the whales are described in progressively more humane and even human terms.  And the whalers are portrayed in an increasingly negative light, their skills and derring-do a mask for their brutality, until they are sometimes portrayed as inhuman killers of heroic whales.

In Chapter 87, “The Grand Armada,” for example, Ishmael describes a large congregation of whales.  When attacked by the Pequod’s crew, the whales arrange themselves into a series of concentric circles.  The adult whales swim furiously around and around in what seems to be an effort to expose themselves as targets for the whalers while protecting the baby whales and pregnant females sitting quietly in the middle.  In the next chapter, “Schools and Schoolmasters,” Ishmael describes the way in which female whales will stay with and nurse wounded whales despite the danger to themselves and the likelihood they will be attacked by whalers who take advantage of their vulnerability.  Although Ishmael remains ambivalent throughout in his own internal debate about whalers and whaling, readers might conclude that the whalers on the Pequod, as much as we like and admire most of them, got what they deserved in the end.

In the conventional approach, Moby Dick is the personal tragedy of Ahab, a man who blasphemously seeks vengeance against God through attempting to kill what he sees as God’s instrument, a white whale that bit off one of his legs.  Presented in this way, much of the book’s discussion of whaling and whales seems irrelevant and immaterial.  But the book can be seen more broadly as a tragedy of all the whalers on the Pequod and even humans in general, who may act godly toward each other and behave heroically in fulfilling their social obligations, but do evil in slaughtering whales and mistreating other sentient creatures of the Lord.  Looked at in this way, the whale chapters become important to the book and interesting to think about.

Competing Narrators: Ishmael the Sailor, Ishmael the Whaler, and Ishmael the Prophet.   

“Now you are washed up on the shoreline. I can see your body lie.  It is a shame you had to die to put a shadow on our eye.  Crosby, Stills & Nash

Melville changed his mind about the nature and direction of the book several times as he was writing it.  One of the ways this plays out in the finished work is in the way Ishmael displays different and changing attitudes toward whales and whalers in his various roles as a character in the story, a narrator who tells the story as it unfolds, and a commenter on the story after the fact.

We encounter him first as a naive sailor on his maiden whaling voyage, then as a participant observer of the activities on the Pequod, and finally, some years after the destruction of the ship, as a mature thinker about life and humanity and the narrator of the book.  In each of these roles, Ishmael debates with himself issues concerning whalers, whales and the world, and the choices he and we should make in our lives.  His views change and sometimes conflict with each other.  He is sometimes Sailor, sometimes Whaler, and, finally, Prophet.  And his roles shift and sometimes conflict with each other.  But in this way he is like a real person.

Ishmael the Sailor.  The book begins as a simple adventure story similar to Melville’s previously published novels that were based on his own seafaring voyages.  Ishmael tells us in the opening that whenever he gets fed up with the constraints of being a landsman, he takes to the sea for an air of freedom.  There is an irony to Ishmael’s claim that life as a sailor in cramped quarters under the dictatorial rule of a ship captain feels like freedom.  At sea, he is free from the social expectations that he experiences and the myriad of choices that he has to make as a landsman.  He merely has to follow orders and do his job, and he experiences this as freedom.

Ishmael tells us that he had formerly been a sailor on merchant ships, but that at the time the story in the book begins, he was looking for work on a whaling ship.  We are regaled in the early chapters with numerous pitfalls and pratfalls that he experiences as he makes his way to a job on the Pequod, including some high jinks when he befriends the cannibal Queequeg who becomes his shipmate and soul mate.  The book seems at this point to be a voyage of discovery for Ishmael and for the reader about whaling as a heroic enterprise and whales as a worthy and worthwhile object of that enterprise.

Ishmael’s naive joy and enjoyment of sailing appear throughout the book.  He is continuously bemused by the wonders of whaling and whales, and amused by the antics of his shipmates.  But he is also frequently struck by the brutality of whale hunting and the butchery of whales.  And he faces questions about the morality of the enterprise and the perennial question of whether and how to evaluate the relative goods, evils and overall worthiness of human enterprises.

Ishmael the Whaler. 

After the first few chapters, the tone of the book changes as we are introduced to the character of Ahab.  We are privy to forebodings about Ahab’s hubris and what soon becomes his misappropriation of the Pequod in his personal quest for vengeance against Moby Dick.  Ishmael begins to confront social and political questions that concern his life on the Pequod and ultimately determine the fate of the ship.  What sort of community does the Pequod constitute and what is and should be the relationship of its members?  By what rights and within what limits does Ahab as captain proceed?  What is the nature of the relationship of the Pequod’s sailors to their captain?  What rights and abilities do they have to resist him?

The book now takes on the aspect of a voyage of discovery through some of the social and political debates that were prominent in the mid-nineteenth century and are still important today.  Three main ideologies vied for acceptance at that time: the traditional republicanism of the founding fathers, a communitarianism derived from the Puritans and the practices of local communities during the eighteenth century, and a laissez-faire individualism which was a new idea at the time.

Traditional republicanism was a mercantilist philosophy of social control and economic development.  It promoted as society that was managed from the top down by elite leaders who would provide a government of the people and for the people but not, for the most part, by the people.  It was a philosophy of benevolent paternalism.  This program was promoted at the time by national leaders such as John Quincy Adams, Henry Clay and Daniel Webster.  It is represented in Moby Dick by the two retired ship captains who are the primary owners of the Pequod.

The owners of the ship are pacifist Quakers who have named their ship seemingly in honor of the native Indians of Massachusetts who were annihilated during the late seventeenth century by English settlers.  Ironically, the ship’s owners have no problems with slaughtering whales whom they consider to be beneath their concern.  They are, however, benevolently concerned that the ship should hunt whales safely and effectively so as to produce the maximum profit for both the ship’s owners and the crew. The crew of a whaling ship were paid a percentage of the profit produced by a ship’s voyage.  As such, everyone had a shared interest in the success of a voyage.  On board the Pequod, this traditional republican view is represented by the first mate Starbuck who presents the only opposition to Ahab’s mad pursuit of Moby Dick.

Communitarianism was a philosophy of social control and economic development managed from the bottom up by ordinary people in cooperative local communities.  Communitarianism fitted in well with the way that most Europeans settled in America.  From the Pilgrims and Puritans on, most immigrants from Europe had come in groups that had lived in the same locality in their old country and then settled together in the new country.  Likewise, when European-Americans moved westward across the continent, they generally moved in groups and first set up new towns and community institutions before attempting to attract more people.  The community came first, both chronologically and ideologically, and individual people came after.

This ideology was promoted nationally by Horace Greeley and Albert Brisbane who were disciples of the utopian socialist Fourier.  Communitarianism is represented in Moby Dick by the crew of the Pequod who work and live together cooperatively and, for the most part, without being ordered about by the ship’s officers.  Ishmael tells us that these sailors floundered on land as isolated individuals — “isolatoes” he calls them — but lived as a cooperative community on the ship.

Individualism was a philosophy of society based on the egoistic strivings of individual persons, leading to a competition of each person against every other and a struggle for mastery and dominance over one’s fellows.  It was represented by American leaders such as Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren.  They saw the enormous expansion of the territory and the economy of the United States during the first half of the nineteenth century as an opportunity to down-size the role of government and emphasize the aspirations of self-made heroic individuals.  This idea is represented on the Pequod by Captain Ahab.

Ishmael is initially impressed by the paternalism of the ship’s owners and by Starbuck’s good sense.  He is later carried away with the comradeship and cooperation of the ship’s crew and becomes part of their community.  But he is finally overwhelmed, along with the rest of the crew, by Ahab’s charismatic domination and determination to kill Moby Dick at all costs, a determination that costs the lives of all of them except for Ishmael.

In telling his story, Ishmael is impressed by the ability of the multinational and multicultural crew — sailors of all colors and religions from all over the world — to live and work together peacefully, but he is depressed by the way they and he were so easily cowed and manipulated by Ahab.  He thereby confronts the question of whether people can live together democratically and cooperatively or whether they will invariably fall prey to strong-willed demagogues and desperados, a question we still face today.

Ishmael the Prophet. 

“Maybe we’ll go.  Maybe we’ll disappear.  It’s not that we don’t know.  It’s just that we don’t want to care.”   Crosby, Stills & Nash.

By the end of Ishmael’s story, it seems clear that Moby Dick is merely a whale who has been minding his own business and who did not want anything to do with Ahab or the Pequod.  But when Ahab and his crew would not leave him alone and repeatedly attacked him, the whale finally does the only rational thing he could choose to do.  He destroys the ship and kills as many of the whalers as he can.

Ishmael tells us early in the book that he has been a school teacher so that we know he is book-learned man.  We see this book learning reflected in the erudition of his later philosophical discussions and his whale chapters.  Ishmael also indicates to us in several asides scattered throughout the book that he has been on several additional whaling voyages after the demise of the Pequod and has done considerable research and reflection on whales, whaling and the world.  It is this mature Ishmael who seems responsible for the insertion of the counter-narrative about whales and whaling that develops in the course of the book and the philosophical reflections that are scattered throughout.  Ishmael thereby takes himself and us on a voyage of discovery through competing theories and beliefs about man’s place in the universe.

The first signs of this theme appear early in the book at the end of a sequence of three chapters, “The Chapel,” “The Pulpit” and “The Sermon,” about a visit by Ishmael and his cannibal friend Queequeg to a church in New Bedford before shipping out on the Pequod.  The first two of these chapters are written in the whimsical tone in which the book begins, with this visit to the church as seemingly just another scenic episode in what is apparently going to be a lighthearted adventure story narrated by Ishmael the Sailor.  But the tone changes dramatically in the chapter on “The Sermon” in which Father Mapple, an old whaler turned preacher, gives a sermon from the Bible on Jonah and the whale that swallowed him.

For most of the sermon, Father Mapple concentrates on the consequences of Jonah’s defying the Lord, and Jonah’s travails with the whale seem to be a foreboding of Ahab’s blasphemous attack on God through Moby Dick and the demise of the Pequod as a consequence.  The sermon thus seems to serve as a prequel to the Pequod crew’s trials and tribulations and the narration of Ishmael the Whaler.

But at the end of his sermon, Father Mapple emphasizes a second lesson of the Jonah story which opens up a new theme.  He notes that Jonah’s initial sin was in refusing to give the inhabitants of Nineveh some bad news from God for fear of their reaction against him.  Father Mapple then emphasizes that a person must not fail to tell what he thinks is the truth for fear of what the reaction of others might be.  This lesson seems to serve as a prequel to Ishmael’s role as a Prophet in his narration of the book and especially in his counter-narrative on whales and whaling.  Ishmael has a message that he must deliver to the whalers with whom he has been living and working: that whales are intelligent and sentient creatures and that killing them for profit is immoral.  He leads us to that message gradually and through story form rather than thundering at us as Father Mapple does in his sermon.  But the message is clear.

Ishmael’s developing crisis of conscience reflects many of the religious and ethical debates that  occurred during the mid-nineteenth century and that are still with us today.  The United States was in the midst of what has been called the Second Great Awakening.  This was an evangelical Christian upsurge that turned many people toward abolitionism and other humane reform movements and led many to rethink the place of humans in the universe.  They engaged in controversies over the nature and historical accuracy of the Bible, including debates over the Biblical Creation story versus pre-Darwinian theories of evolution, and whether God and God’s commands can ever be truly known by man.  Many of them spoke out despite the adverse and sometimes violent reactions of their fellow Americans.

As the sole survivor of the Pequod’s destruction, Ishmael seems to feel that, like Jonah, he has been chosen to deliver a message to his fellow whalers and to humankind as a whole.  Ironically, Ishmael has gone to sea in order to avoid the social obligations and moral choices that he had to face as a landsman but finds that, like Jonah, he cannot run away from his obligations and must make the moral choice to deliver a message that his hearers might not like.

The message he delivers through his narration and comments on the story of Ahab and Moby Dick is that God is unfathomable but His creation is sacred.  That Biblical literalism will not get you to the Word of God.  That the difference between humans and other sentient creatures is not as great as it seems in the Bible and does not justify the oppression and murder of them.  That defying God through attacking His creatures is vain and self-destructive.  And, finally, that we must all learn to live together or we will perish together.  This message continues to be poignant, pertinent and controversial today.

Postscript: Finishing the book. 

Moby Dick is a book that is easy to pick up, but then easy to put down.  And I think most readers do just that, initially entranced by the antics of Ishmael and Queequeg, and then bored to death by the whale chapters.   So, I think that a key to finishing the book is to skim your way through the boring whale chapters.  Don’t get bogged down in the details of whale skeletons and whatever.  I don’t think, in any case, that you are expected to dwell on the whale chapters.  They are mainly symbolic and strategic.  They are part of the overall plan and arc of the story, and it is important to know what is their gist, but they are not important in themselves.  

BW  6/14

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861? Part III. Conclusion: Very likely.

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861?  Part III. Conclusion: Very likely.

Burton Weltman

Slavery had been on the decline in the Western Hemisphere during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.  It had been abolished in Haiti in 1791 and Canada in 1793.  And as Latin America countries gained their independence from Spain during the early nineteenth century, they abolished slavery: Argentina in 1813; Peru in 1821; Chile, Ecuador, Columbia, Panama, and Venezuela in 1823; Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica in 1824.  Mexican revolutionaries proclaimed the abolition of slavery in Mexico in 1810 and slavery was officially abolished there in 1829, although the practice continued illegally in the area of Mexico that became Texas.  Britain abolished slavery in her colonies during the 1830’s.

But slavery still thrived during the mid-nineteenth century in Brazil, by far the largest holder of slaves in the New World, and in Cuba.  And slavery expanded in Ecuador, Peru, Colombia and Central America after 1850 in the midst of a boom in those countries in the growing and processing of rubber.  Various forms of involuntary servitude were also widely practiced in India, China and the Middle East throughout the nineteenth century.  When the South seceded from the Union in 1860-1861, slavery was still a going concern in the United States and elsewhere in the world and might have gone on further and farther but for the consequences of the Civil War.

The abolition of slavery in the United States had a profound effect on the history of slavery in the world.  If slavery had not been abolished here during the 1860’s, the United States would have emerged during the late nineteenth century as the world’s largest economy, the world’s largest and leading democracy and the world’s leading slave-holding country.  The power and prestige of the United States could have given the institution of slavery a legitimacy and impetus that could have carried the institution into and through the twentieth century.

It cannot be assumed that the development of democracy in the United States during the twentieth century, including the right to vote for women, would somehow have led to the end of slavery.  Slavery has existed alongside democracy in several societies in the world, including ancient Athens as well as the early United States.  It has even been argued that the emergence of democracy in both of those societies was a product of slavery.  Slaves performed the societies’ demeaning tasks which enabled the free men to associate with each other on the relatively equal terms necessary for democracy.

Nor can it be assumed that the industrialization of the North during the late nineteenth century was incompatible with slavery in the South.  The industrialization of the North during the early nineteenth century had been perfectly compatible with slavery in the South and even depended to some extent on slavery.  Southern slaves produced cheap cotton that was manufactured into cloth and clothes by free northern workers.  This sort of division of labor could have continued.  It also seems likely that slaves could have been used as factory labor in an industrializing South and, given the potential effects of the Dred Scott decision which seemed to have opened the whole country to slavery, possibly even in the North.

Nor, finally, can it be assumed that the refinement of morals and manners that has occurred in the United States during the twentieth century would have somehow produced an environment incompatible with the continuance of slavery.  Americans and people elsewhere have been all too able to compartmentalize separately their high-tone feelings and their low-life prejudices.  I am reminded, although it is an extreme case, of the Commandant of Auschwitz who was able to record the noblest thoughts about his family, friends and flowers in his diary alongside statistics and comments about his day’s work exterminating human beings.

There were thirty-four states in the United States in 1860 of which fifteen were slave states.  It takes the support of three-quarters of the states to approve a Constitutional Amendment.  Thirteen southern slave states seceded to form the Confederate States of America.  In their absence, anti-slavery northerners mustered enough votes in Congress and among the remaining states to ratify the 13th Amendment and abolish slavery.  When the Confederacy lost the war, the Confederate states were required to ratify the 13th Amendment as a condition of their regaining their rights and powers as members of the Union.

The bottom line is that if slaveholders in the South had not made what was for them a disastrous blunder in seceding from the Union in 1860-1861, the votes in Congress and among the states to abolish slavery would not have been there during the late nineteenth century and might still not be there today.  There are fifty states today and the negative votes of fifteen slave states would still be more than enough to squelch an amendment to abolish slavery.  In any case, the United States would almost certainly have entered the twentieth century as the world’s leading superpower with slavery as a thriving institution in an otherwise democratizing society.  And might still be today.

Note: This issue is discussed at greater length with citations and quotations in the chapter entitled “Choice #9: The Coming of the Civil War: Why Didn’t the North Secede and Why Did the South?” of my recently published book Was the American Revolution a Mistake? Reaching Students and Reinforcing Patriotism through Teaching History as Choice (AuthorHouse, 2013).

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861? Part II: Why did the South secede?

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861?  Part II: Why did the South secede?

Burton Weltman

Conventional history has it that secessionist sentiment was rampant in the South during the 1850’s and that the election of Lincoln in 1860 was the straw that broke the camel’s back and led to a secessionist stampede.  This was not so.  Secession was not popular in the South before the attack on Fort Sumter in April, 1861 that began the Civil War.  Prior to that attack, the great majority of slave states had rejected secession and even within those states that had seceded following Lincoln’s election, large minorities of white people, and possibly even majorities, opposed secession.

Most slave owners in the South felt comfortable with the political and economic situation in 1860.  Lincoln had won the presidential election with only 40% of the vote, with 60% going to pro-slavery candidates.  Congress was effectively stalemated between pro and anti-slavery members.  The Fugitive Slave Act and the  Dred Scott decision were the laws of the land and there was very little chance of these laws being changed in the foreseeable future.  This seemed especially the case since “Cotton was King” and the North was economically dependent on Southern trade.  Most slave owners felt that the North needed the slave South economically.  They also felt that the South needed the North to help control and contain the slaves.  For most southern supporters of slavery, including prominent figures such as Alexander Stephens, who later became the vice-president of the Confederacy, the Union was slavery’s best protection.

So, how did it happen that almost the whole slave South seceded by the spring of 1861?

A relatively small but very vocal group of southern “Fire Eaters,” led by Robert Barnwell Rhett and James Hammond of South Carolina and James Loundes Yancey of Georgia, were convinced that the North was out to abolish slavery and that if the South did not get out of the Union soon, it would soon be too late.  Comparing their situation to that of the colonies before the American Revolution, and taking a position that mixed overwrought fear with unfounded self-confidence, they promoted secession during the 1850’s and especially after the election of 1860 as a preemptive strike to forestall the tyranny of the North before it could get started.

As bad as political developments of the 1850’s seemed to anti-slavery northerners, they seemed worse to southern Fire Eaters, almost as though the two groups were living in alternate universes and were not experiencing the same events.  From the Fire Eaters’ perspective, the pattern of significant events of the 1850’s had begun with the acrimonious debate over the Wilmot Proviso, which was intended to prohibit slavery in any new territories, had proceeded with the formation in 1854 of the Republican Party, which was dedicated to restricting and maybe even ending slavery, and had culminated in John Brown’s terrorist raid on Harper’s Ferry in 1859, which was intended to start a bloody slave revolution.  The election of Lincoln in 1860 was seen as a sign they must make a move to save slavery through secession before it was too late.

Although the North had not yet done anything to overturn slavery, and was in no position to do so, the Fire Eaters stirred fears in white southerners that the North was growing faster than the South and would eventually overwhelm it.  They warned that northerners were continuously agitating among the slaves, promoting runaways and provoking rebellions.  They complained about northern assistance to runaway slaves and, ironically, thereby helped publicize the Underground Railroad to potential runaways.  Essentially feeding their own fears while trying to provoke the fears of their southern white compatriots, Fire Eaters reinforced the conclusion with which they had started: that the South must make a pre-emptive move to secede.

Fire Eaters were also afraid of the potential spread of abolitionism among southern whites if they stayed within the Union.  Most southern whites were hurt by the slave system.  Only some 25% of white southerners owned any slaves and fewer than 10% of these owned over 75% of the slaves.  This small minority of large-scale slave owners lived on big plantations and monopolized most of the best land in the South.  Given their use of slave labor and their ownership of the most fertile land, these plantation owners were able to produce larger crops at lower cost than the mass of small farmers.  As a result, small farmers were paid lower prices for their crops and made less money than if they weren’t competing against slave labor.  Similarly, southern white craftsmen and white workers earned less for their labor because they were competing against slave labor.  Southern whites before the Civil War had a lower standard of living and a lower life expectancy than both northern whites and northern blacks.

Fire Eaters countered economic arguments against slavery with racial and cultural appeals.  They stoked fears among whites of blacks taking over the South if slavery was abolished and portrayed abolitionism as a clear and present danger, especially after the election of Lincoln.  They also made the protection of slavery the focal point of a broad-based opposition to what they portrayed as liberal northern attitudes and policies that favored big government, high taxes, wasteful social and economic programs, costly public education, free speech, egalitarian gender relations, and other hot-button political and cultural issues. Fire Eaters portrayed themselves as the protectors of a romantic conservative tradition that was being undermined by northern liberalism, and they portrayed threats to the expansion of slavery as threats to this southern way of life. White people were harangued to support this heroic tradition by defending slavery.

Fire Eaters compounded their assertion of southern cultural superiority with an inflated faith in southern military prowess.  They believed that the South was better prepared militarily than the North, since southerners were a larger percentage of the officer corps of the United States Army and a larger percentage of southerners had guns and used guns both to hunt animals and to defend themselves against slaves.  So, if northerners wanted to fight against southern secession, the South would whip them.  Fire Eaters also believed that the South would get support from England in any war against the North since England was so dependent on southern cotton.

At the beginning of their campaign, Fire Eaters had hoped that the Wilmot Proviso, which prohibited slavery in territories gained in the late 1840’s from Mexico, would be enacted by Congress in 1850 because it might serve as a provocation for southern secession.  Thereafter, they sought to goad South Carolina, historically the most radically pro-slavery colony and state, into secession.  They hoped that this would provoke a northern overreaction similar to the British reaction to the Boston Tea Party and, thereby, provoke a general southern insurrection similar to the American Revolution.  With the election of Lincoln, they hysterically portrayed the situation as a now or never crisis.  This time their cries of “Wolf” worked.

With South Carolina leading the way, seven states seceded in the aftermath of the election of 1860 but even then pro-union southerners such as Senator Crittenden of Kentucky tried to propose a compromise that would bring those states back and keep others from seceding.  Those efforts were thwarted by southern radicals and finally ended with the attack engineered by Fire Eaters in secessionist South Carolina on the federal Fort Sumter.  This attack was ironically portrayed by Fire Eaters as an act of aggression by the North on the South.  With the South ostensibly under attack, other slave states seceded from the Union and the Civil War was on.

As with the American Revolution, the war known in the North as the Civil War but in the South as the War for Southern Independence was the result of an assiduous campaign by a determined minority that believed it knew better than the majority what was best for their country.  But the results of this attempted revolution were very different from those of the last and the war to save slavery became the war that ended slavery.    

Note: This issue is discussed at greater length with citations and quotations in the chapter entitled “Choice #9: The Coming of the Civil War: Why Didn’t the North Secede and Why Did the South?” of my recently published book Was the American Revolution a Mistake? Reaching Students and Reinforcing Patriotism through Teaching History as Choice (AuthorHouse, 2013).

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861? Part I: Shouldn’t the North have seceded from the Union instead of the South?

Would the United States still have slavery if the South had not seceded in 1861?  Part I: Shouldn’t the North have seceded from the Union instead of the South?

Burton Weltman

Conventional histories invariably portray the secession of the South from the Union as an almost inevitable response to Abraham Lincoln’s election as President in 1860.  In fact, there was a stronger argument for the North to secede in 1861 and very little reason for the South to do so.

The decade of the 1850’s was an almost complete disaster from the point of view of anti-slavery northerners, starting with what they saw as an infamous appeasement of the South in the so-called Compromise of 1850 and ending with a complete abdication to slavery in the Dred Scott Case of 1857.  As a result of these laws and legal decisions, anti-slavery northerners felt that no one, white or black, was safe from enslavement and no place would be free from slavery.

The Compromise of 1850 both expanded the territory within which slavery could legally exist and contained a Fugitive Slave Act.  This Act provided that anyone could be accused by a slave-catcher of being a fugitive slave and then had to prove that he or she was not a slave.  If the person could not present this proof, he or she could be taken away as a slave.  Since many “black” slaves were the product of sexual relations between white masters and slave women, many “blacks” had complexions that were as light, and even lighter, than those of “whites.”  As a result, a free white person could be accused of being an escaped black slave and if the person could not prove that he or she was not a slave, the person could be taken away as a slave.

The safeguards provided in the Fugitive Slave Act against mistakenly identifying a freeman as a slave were not very safe.  If someone was accused of being a fugitive slave, the person had the right to a hearing in which the person could try to prove that he or she was not a slave.  Those hearings were not, however, conducted in a regular court with a judge but in front of a special United States Commissioner who would be paid five dollars for each case in which a person was found to be a freeman and ten dollars for every case in which a person was found to be a slave.  As such, the system encouraged Commissioners to find that people were slaves.

Finally, under the Fugitive Slave Act, every northern free person was required to help capture fugitive slaves, and was thereby required to be a participant in and a supporter of the slave system.  The law made every northerner a servant of southern slave owners for purposes of keeping the southerners’ slaves in captivity.

The Compromise of 1850 was seen by anti-slavery northerners as the subjugation of the North by the South.  In subjecting white people to the possibility of being taken as fugitive slaves, and making every northerner an accomplice in the slave system, the law was seen by northerners, even by many who were not against slavery, as an incursion of the slave system into the North.

If the Compromise of 1850 represented an incursion of slavery into the free states, the Dred Scott decision of 1857 represented an invasion of slavery into the North and an end to freedom in the United States.  In striking down the Missouri Compromise and holding as a matter of constitutional law that a person may take his property, including his slave property, anywhere in the United States, the Supreme Court effectively held that there was no such thing as a free state.

If, as the Supreme Court held, a southern slave owner could take his slaves into a northern “free” state and retain title and control of them as slaves, then slavery was seemingly legal and protected by the Constitution everywhere in the United States.  In sum, the United States was a slave country in its entirety and only a Constitutional amendment overturning the Dred Scott decision could change the situation.

While the election of Lincoln as President in 1860 was a victory for anti-slavery advocates, it was a hollow victory that could have had no effect on the status of slavery in the country and that provided no hope whatsoever that slavery could be limited in the country let alone eliminated.

Lincoln got only some 40% of the votes in the election of 1860, almost all from the North.  The other 60% of  the votes were divided among three other pro-slavery candidates.  Since Lincoln’s Republican Party was a regional party that was strong only in the North, there was little hope that it could become a national party that could influence slavery politics in the country as a whole.

The South had a big advantage in national politics because under the Constitution each slave was counted as three-fifths of a person for purposes of allocating members of the House of Representatives and presidential votes in the Electoral College.  Under this system, eight of the first fifteen presidents of the United States were from the South and the others were essentially elected by the South.  Five of the nine Supreme Court Justices during the 1850’s were southerners which meant that the Constitution was firmly controlled by proponents of slavery.  Despite Lincoln’s election, there was no reason to believe that this would change.

In any case, a Constitutional amendment affecting slavery seemed foreclosed forever.  A Constitutional amendment must be approved by 2/3 of the House and the Senate and by 3/4 of the states.  Congress in 1860 was about evenly divided between pro-slavery and anti-slavery advocates.  This gave no hope of getting the 2/3 majorities in both the House and the Senate needed for proposing a Constitutional amendment affecting slavery.  Even more important, there were thirty-four states in the United States in 1861 of which fifteen were slave states.  There was no way that a Constitutional amendment limiting or eliminating slavery was going to be approved by 3/4 of the states in 1861 or at any time thereafter.

In the face of these facts, influential anti-slavery northerners such as William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Theodore Parker, Horace Greely and Ralph Waldo Emerson called for the separation of the North from the South in order for the North to escape what they saw as the stranglehold of “The Slave Power” over the United States.

So why didn’t the North secede?  There were probably a combination of reasons.  One reason was patriotism  — the belief in American’s preeminent role in bringing peace, prosperity, liberty and democracy to the world — of which there was an upsurge in the North during the mid-nineteenth century before the Civil War.

Economics was another reason.  Southern and northern economies were intertwined.  Southern cotton fed northern mills and northern food crops fed southern slaves.  Cotton was also the major American export which paid for goods imported from Europe.

Another reason was democratic idealism which Lincoln articulated in his Gettysburg Address: the desire to prove that democracy could work and endure.  The prevailing opinion in Europe at that time was that democracy could not last, that democratic countries would inevitably descend into factional and sectional conflicts and eventually fall apart.  Northerners needed to prove that theory was wrong.

Still another reason was geopolitical.  If the North seceded and the slave South became a separate nation, the South would likely become a dependency and ally of England.  That would leave the North surrounded by English Canada and a South dependent on England.  Since the United States and England were not on friendly terms — the United States had tried to stir up Canadian rebels for independence during the 1830’s and had engaged in a vehement dispute with England over the boundaries of the Pacific Northwest during the 1840’s — this was not a desirable prospect.

Finally, there were those who did not want to run away from the fight over slavery and thereby leave the southern slaves in the lurch.

Who do you think they had the better of the argument?  Should the North have seceded in 1861?

Note: This issue is discussed at greater length with citations and quotations in the chapter entitled “Choice #9: The Coming of the Civil War: Why Didn’t the North Secede and Why Did the South?” of my recently published book Was the American Revolution a Mistake? Reaching Students and Reinforcing Patriotism through Teaching History as Choice (AuthorHouse, 2013).

Was the American Revolution a mistake? Part IV. How might things have been worse if the Revolution had not happened?

Was the American Revolution a mistake?

Part IV.   How might things have been worse if the Revolution had not happened?

Burton Weltman

There are many ways in which things might have been worse for Americans in the past and in the present if the Revolution had not occurred.  Our federal Constitution for example, which is one of the wonders of world history, is a consequence of the Revolution, even if it was not the sort of government that was originally intended by the Founding Fathers when they made the Revolution.  The following are just a few examples of things that might have been different and different for the worse if there had been no Revolution.  You are probably able to come up with other and maybe better examples. 

1. If the Revolution had not occurred, might democracy have developed more slowly in America?  Political democracy might have developed more slowly without the Revolution.  The democratic right of all white men to vote developed some thirty to fifty years later in England and in the other English-speaking British colonies than in the United States.  The earlier development of democracy for men in the United States was a direct outcome of the struggle for democratic rights that began during the Revolution.  It was part of the revolution within the Revolution.  That is, while the revolutionaries as a whole were fighting for American independence from England, there were democratic American revolutionaries struggling against aristocratic American revolutionaries for the right to vote and control the new government.

At the time of the Revolution, suffrage was limited to white men with substantial property and/or income.  These property and income requirements were gradually abolished in the various states during and after the Revolution so that by the 1820’s, there was universal suffrage for white men.  These rights did not emerge in England and her other English-speaking colonies until the mid to late nineteenth century.

2. If the Revolution had not occurred, might religious freedom have developed more slowly and less surely in America?  Freedom of religion developed more slowly in England and in her other English-speaking colonies than it did in the United States.  Religious tests for political office and other public purposes were abandoned almost immediately in America after the Revolution, and Massachusetts in the 1830’s was the last holdout state to abandon a state-sponsored church.  The British gradually abandoned religious tests and restrictions during the course of the nineteenth century but the Anglican Church remains the official Church of England to the present day.  The Anglican Church ceased to be the official church of Canada in 1832, Australia in 1836 and New Zealand in 1840.

3. If the Revolution had not occurred, might women’s rights have developed more slowly in America?  Women’s rights developed somewhat more slowly in England but somewhat more quickly in the other English-speaking colonies than in the United States.  As such, it may be a tossup whether women might have fared better or worse in the United States if there was no Revolution and America had remained for longer as a colony  In New Zealand, women gained the right to vote in national elections in 1893.  In Australia, it was 1902.  In Canada, it was 1921 just as it was in the United States.  In England, it was 1928.

In general, women’s rights in these countries developed more quickly in less settled territories in which sexist customs were not so well-established and in which women had opportunities to break new ground, both literally and figuratively.  In the United States, women’s rights developed particularly quickly in the western territories and states as they were settled by European-Americans.  This might not have happened in the same way if there was no Revolution.

What do you think?