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$ 1.50

GUIDE FOR SOCIAL ACTION

Yves de Montcheuil, SJ.

Those who found Father de Montcheuil’s first

book, for men of action, so helpful in the lay
apostolate will welcome this second collection of his

essays, entitled, guide for social action. Short,

penetrating and thought-provoking, these essays will

serve as guideposts to all Christians who are engaged

in any kind of social action.

What recommends Father de Montcheuil is his

strength of ideas and his ability to apply them to the

present situation. He dodged none of the problems
which our generation must solve, but he faced them

as a theologian.

These essays were «elected and edited after

Father de Montcheuil’s death, which occurred in

1944 at the hands of the Gestapo on the eve of the

liberation of Paris. Fides has translated and edited

them; the editors have left out those chapters which

applied strictly to the situation in France during

World War II and the Resistance Movement, of

which Father de Montcheuil was a leader. In guide

for social action, the reader will find the perspec-

tives Christians must have if they are to bring about

Christian social reform.

The chapter titles of the essays are as follows:

The Church Faces the Modem World, the Idea of a
Christian Civilization, the Social Problem, Com-

munity, Civic Education, the Use of Force, Anti-

Semitism, the Christian and Temporal Affairs,

Church and State, Morals and Politics, the Church

and Liberty, the Church and Political Power.

Father Yves de Montcheuil, S.J., at the time of

his death, was spiritual advisor for students at the

Sorbonne and for Catholic Action groups. He taught

Dogma at the Catholic Institute of Paris and was

one of the most promising young theologians and

philosophers of France. Although under constant

threat of his life, he took part in the underground

work of Témoignage Chretien during World War II;

he was one of the editors, and in the Paris regions,

one of its most active distributors.



Guide

for

Social
•-"s

Action

Yves de Montcheuil, S
J.

Fides Publishers Association





52^2-1

4

PSLS
As

JS

Guide

for

Social

Action





Guide

for

Social

Action

Yves de Montcheuil, S.J.

Fides Publishers Association

Chicago 10, Illinois



NIHIL OBSTAT

Leo R. Ward, C.S.C.

University of Notre Dame

IMPRIMATUR:

SB John F. Noll, D.D.

Archbishop of Fort Wayne, Indiana

COPYRIGHT: 1954

Fides Publishers Association

Chicago 10, Illinois

c^^^>55

Printed in the United States of America

By American Book-Stratford Press, Inc., N. Y.



Contents

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I

The Church Faces the Modern World

CHAPTER II

The Idea of a Christian Civilization

CHAPTER III
The Social Problem

CHAPTER IV

Community

CHAPTER V
Problems of the State

CHAPTER VI

Civic Education

CHAPTER VII
The Use of Force

CHAPTER VIII
Anti-Semitism

CHAPTER IX
The Christian and Temporal Affairs

CHAPTER X
Church and State .......
CHAPTER XI
Morals and Politics

CHAPTER XII
The Church and Liberty

CHAPTER XIII
The Church and Political Power

vii

1

8

14

21

25

33

38

43

51

58

65

70

78



t

t

m.

••



Introduction

the first four chapters of this book are lectures which were

given by the author to public audiences. The following four

chapters are lectures which were given to private audiences.

The last five chapters, more detailed, were presented as a

course in the Spring of 1942 to students at the Ecole des Sci-

ences Morales et Politiques on “The Church and Politics.”

Whatever the difference in audience or in purpose, all the

chapters bear the same stamp of the times and reflect one

spirit. Only occasionally does the author express some per-

sonal ideas. For the most part, the lectures in the French edi-

tion were assembled without efforts at style, and often in great

haste. They were intended merely to recall some essential

truths. The author himself would not have considered their

formal publication, yet the reader will discover at once their

permanent value. They offer a perfect example of a robust the-

ology, at once classical and modern.

What recommends Father Yves de Montcheuil, S.J., who

was a professor of theology at the Catholic Institute of Paris,

is the strength of his ideas and his ability to apply them to the

present situation. For him Catholic doctrine was truly the

light of life: lumen vitae. He dodged none of the problems

which our present generation must solve. The study of theol-

ogy for him was not a refuge from reality, nor a pretext for

speculation in a closed world, nor an escape from human re-

sponsibility. Along with teaching a regular course in theology,

he was active in the apostolate. What is more, he engaged in

action as a theologian, in order to clarify and guide his theo-

logical thinking.

The present volume gives testimony to this spirit. Almost

always these lectures are addressed without pretensions to

youth. They are a sample of many others he gave, of which

no manuscripts have been found. Nevertheless, these suffice to

demonstrate how a priest who knew the doctrine of the Church

was able to sustain the courage and faith of his young friends

in the course of the dark years of France.

Let us simply add that Father de Montcheuil was not one

who said without doing. He gave his life to the same spirit in

which he taught his doctrine. This spirit led him to martyrdom.

The Editions de Témoignage Chretien is grateful to the con-

freres of Father de Montcheuil for giving us these pages.

VII



Those who followed the underground work of Témoignage

Chretien during the war will recognize the same spirit in these

writings. It will not surprise them to know that from its first

hours, Father de Montcheuil was one of the most respected

counsellors of the resistance movement. He became one of

the editors, and in the Paris regions he was one of its hardiest

distributors.

The English translation of this volume, titled in French

L’Eglise et le Monde Actuel
,
was done by a group of trans-

lators at the University of Notre Dame. The final editing, dele-

tions, revisions in view of an American audience, and organ-

ization of material were done by Vincent J. Giese, Editorial

Director of Fides. The attempt has been to present to an

American audience only those ideas of Father de Montcheuil

which might have meaning to those engaging in social action in

the United States.

VIII



CHAPTER I

The Church Faces the

Modern World

the upheaval which we are now witnessing has changed the

character of the problems which we face. Solutions once

thought applicable are now outdated. We are passing through
a period of groping, experimentation, and uncertainty. We do
not seem to know quite where to go. The attempted solutions

of some people appear doubtful. Yet, whether on the plane of

the family, the professions, the state, or international affairs,

the problems are urgent and broad. Men of good will, con-

sequently, are often confused; their disquietude sometimes

shakes their confidence in the Catholic Church.

If the solutions which seemed valid yesterday do not fit today,

is it because the Church has not shown us the right course?

Is the Church herself somewhat misdirected in face of the

present situation? If so, while continuing to ask her for spirit-

ual life, should we turn elsewhere for answers to the burning

questions of the day? Quite diverse ideologies, which seem to

have unhesitating answers and indicate a way out of the diffi-

culties, present themselves to us. Although we realize through

a kind of Christian premonition that they are not acceptable,

it would be useful for us to know from whence our difficulty

comes, so that we may see that it is unreal. Perhaps we shall

then find some valid reasons for retaining our confidence in

the Church, and for discovering in her—in her doctrine and in
her decisions—the light needed to resolve the problems of the
present and the future. Perhaps we shall then give to her the

same answer St. Peter, in the name of the Apostles and of the

faithful, gave to Christ when He asked: “And will you also go

away?” Peter replied: “To whom shall we go, Lord? Thou
hast the words of eternal life.”

First of all, we should not regret having followed the direc-

tives of the Catholic Church. We should not regret having
obeyed anyone who has commanded in God’s name. In so

doing, we are certainly on the right path. Furthermore, neither

the directives of the Church nor the solutions she recom-

mended to us were the cause of the evil, even though they are

no longer applicable. Yesterday the Church faced a situation

1



for which she cannot be held responsible: deChristianization,

demoralization, class antagonisms, self-seeking and grasping

nations, worship of force, desire to exploit and refusal to do

the necessary work. Such a state of affairs did not come from

advice given by the Church.

Faced with this tragic situation, the Church indicated a way

out of the chaos by calling for a Christian community. She

encouraged those who were trying to inject a little more jus-

tice and love into the world. Instead of remaining aloof and

satisfied with condemnations or predictions of doom, she tried

to prevent the collapse, to show the way to safety, to guide

in the right direction against excesses from every side. When

the blow from without came, the ground caved in.

The malady was too far advanced. We could no longer
avoid the tremors which made everything collapse. Yet, let us

not say that had it not been for these tremors, everything

could have been saved. On the contrary, the disintegration

was too far along for us to avoid the worst, under one form

or another. This, however, is only a hypothesis. Let us remain

realistic. Though they failed, the efforts of the Church were

reasonable. Her duty was to make the efforts. If the patient

refuses the prescriptions, we do not blame the doctor for the

failure.

Neither must we linger over the past. We must face the
future and its new difficulties courageously. Let us not be

tempted to think that the Church is at a loss what to do, that

she is seemingly hesitating more than the others, for the

Church does not have ready-made solutions to be pulled out

of a drawer on the right occasion. In many areas, it is not her

affair to dictate solutions to us. But she always possesses the

principles, the guiding ideas which should make it possible

for us to find a Christian and a human solution to all diffi-

culties, a doctrine by which we can judge the value of various

proposals of men, or eliminate or reject those solutions which

fail to recognize our true nature. The Church is always ready

to help us find a true solution, but we ourselves must discover

it, create it, by taking into account present conditions. She does

not present us with something ready-made, but with some-

thing we must adapt.

It is certainly incumbent on the Church to find the Christian

solution to the problems of our times, but by the Church we

mean the whole Church. All of her members must contribute

according to their rank. We are not to await passively for
everything to come down from the hierarchy, for the faithful

are also an essential part of the Church. While the faithful

must not usurp the place of the hierarchy, nor seek to free

themselves from it, nor obstinately go their own way, they

2



must, according to their means, be active, invent and propose

solutions which the Church shall judge. If the Church judges

that these solutions do not take Christian preoccupations suf-

ficiently into account, she will say so. The faithful, lay Chris-

tian then yields and sets once more to work. If the Church

judges the solutions acceptable, she will let them stand and

perhaps, after they have been tried, she may recommend them.

The important point is that the whole Church must seek.

Never say, “We are not big enough to solve such formidable

problems, so numerous and complicated. They are beyond us.

We must only remain quiet and wait.” True, each individual is
not required to solve everything. Neither must each make his

contribution. Yet each should express his point of view, tell the

needs, desires and aspirations of the group to which he be-

longs. He should make known the practical repercussions of the

solutions which are proposed and which are tried. He should

make his own suggestions. None of this is to be neglected, so

long as none of it springs from a lack of thought or from

prejudice, but instead is calm and considered.

Each of us is in contact with a certain group which has its

importance in the community. We must make our reactions
known, for if one wishes to accomplish something sound and

durable, everything must be calculated. Even the greatest in-

ventive genius does not create from nothing. While it is true

that in the end, genius must take all the scattered findings and

reduce them to order, genius cannot do everything. Genius

could do nothing if something had not been discovered previ-

ously..

In our field of exploration, fruitful solutions will be the

result of an immense collective labor. It is not very impor-

tant who perfects or discovers, so long as all have helped make

the end result possible. Neither can we complain about the

hierarchy, if we fail to do our own work. Let us, therefore,

constantly keep in view—along with our daily worries—the
present-day problems of our world. If we fail in our duty as

Christians, how can we blame the Church?

The Church offers considerable aid for the work in which

every Christian has a stake. She furnishes us with a teaching,

which enables us to judge the doctrines proposed, the applica-

tions attempted. She reminds us of the conditions which must

prevail if we are to attain an acceptable result. This is of
utmost importance, for false solutions do not arise from any

inability to find answers, but rather from the fact that the

problems are poorly stated or are unjustifiably simplified.

When not aimed at the right problem, solutions miss their
mark. They are useless. The teachings of the Church take into

account all the necessary elements, so that a problem, once

3



properly posed, may receive a truly human solution. This is

an immense advantage.

Indeed, the Church never forgets either the eternal or the

temporal point of view. She reminds us that we are working

for beings whose destiny is eternal, although they must pre-

pare for it through the temporal. We are not working for
beings whose whole life is spent here below, even though we

recognize the validity of existence on earth. The Church, thus,

insists on the temporal organization at all levels—family, eco-
nomics, national, international. She does not permit us in

time of trial to become discouraged and say, “After all, what

is the use.” No, the Church urges us incessantly to return to

work, to try again to do something. In some circumstances,

we may find in her exhortations the courage to stay on the

job, for the duty of organizing the temporal order according

to justice and charity is not simply a human duty. It is a

Christian obligation, to which the Christian gives all of his

love of Christ. He feels that in order to remain faithful to the

name of Christian

,

no sacrifice is too great. By showing us the

infinite value of such tasks, the Church gives us the strength to

devote ourselves to them in spite of all obstacles. At the same

time, she reminds us that these tasks have no meaning except

in terms of eternity.

The temporal organization which Christians seek has no

meaning if we lose sight of the eternal destiny of man. It

must be such that it helps man acquire true greatness. And

the Church alone teaches us what true greatness is. Outside

the light shed by Christian doctrine, man never knows com-

pletely what he is or what he is worth. He is not capable of

discerning exactly and without error what inside him merits

encouragement and what must be combatted. If we seek our

inspiration in the Church, we avoid the risk of encouraging

solutions which encourage evil in man by making the good

more difficult of achievement.

For example, in family matters, the acceptance of divorce,

or an organization of labor which, under the pretense of pro-

duction, upsets home life. Or measures which make the edu-

cation of youth difficult; or youth movements which, in order

to create national unity, take the child away from his parents

and the Church. We need a world organized in such a way that
it offers no obstacle to man’s pursuit of his eternal end. While

the end may always be pursued freely, man often finds himself

in conditions which make the pursuit difficult: poverty or

luxury or oppression which leads to revolt.

We are enlightened by the doctrine of the Church on the
aim of earthly organization, namely, to make the earth through

justice and charity a less imperfect image of the kingdom of

4



heaven. Ut sint unum: that they may be one does not apply

only to the religious life. It is to be extended to all human

domains. The unity which is sought after is not a fusion of

all into one. A large group of people is not one in a unitary
sense. We want harmony, an effort on the part of each indi-
vidual to understand and to love the others who always remain

themselves. Today many people think they are audacious be-

cause they constantly repeat that it is time to unify Europe.

Yet anyone who follows the thought of the Church will have a

wider vision. Let us never forget that it is the entire world

which must be unified and organized, and that no member

of the human family can be left out.

The Church also gives us the knowledge of the fundamental

conditions under which success is possible in the human do-

main. Among those who wish to do something, we find two

types of minds, two conflicting temperaments: the Utopians,

who see the ideal (sometimes the true one and sometimes a

deformed one) and who want to inject it into the present sit-

uation, without delay, without preparation. The Realists

(wrongly called) who consider the world as a play of forces

whose equilibrium they are seeking. According to the Realists,

it is vain to speak of working out an ideal in society through

social organization. Man is always the toy of certain pressures

and of certain sentiments, which must be known in order to

utilize them in establishing “an order.” The dominating pas-

sion, the essential feeling, is egoism, a seeking after self-

interest. Therefore, the only social organization worth while

is the one in which there is an equilibrium of forces. A kind of
“social physics.”

Both attitudes are monstrous. By neglecting the necessary

steps, the Utopians compromise through their omissions the

very ideal they want to establish, for they blame the ideal

when imprudence and haste cause catastrophes. The so-called

Realists hinder all social progress through their maneuvers.

They anchor man in his egoism. They make him live in an

atmosphere of egoism. Even if they should succeed in estab-

lishing an order, that order would not be favorable to moral

progress, for experience confirms that an order founded on

egoism is unstable. It would not, therefore, be a truly human

order.

In teaching us the necessity of seeking an ideal of justice

and charity in social organization, Christianity also teaches

the reality of sin and the power of grace which succeeds little

by little in transforming humanity. Although the possibilities

for evil may be aggravated by certain social conditions, evil

actions are not derived from these conditions. The whole prob-

5



lem is not, therefore, one of transforming the conditions. The

problem is larger.

Because of his fallen nature, man opposes transformations.

Evil institutions are as much the product of man’s proneness

to evil as its source. We cannot say, for example, that nations
would live in harmony if no one were interested in causing

misunderstanding. There are deep antagonisms—mostly irra-
tional and difficult to overcome—which can be overcome only
if we redirect their violence towards internal, domestic strug-

gles, and this is certainly not a step forward. In every nation,

egoism is mingled with legitimate desires and more or less

corrupts them. There is also the temptation of vengeance, a

denial of justice to others, a desire to dominate when the

right moment comes. Real and powerful obstacles, therefore,

lie in the way of the establishment of justice and charity in

human relationships. If we fail to recognize them, we will

achieve nothing lasting. We must face them squarely, without
exaggerating or minimizing.

Christianity, thus, does not allow us to harbor any illusions.

Instead, it teaches us that grace is a reality and that man is

not totally evil. It teaches us that while it is impossible to

transform man suddenly and completely, nonetheless it is

possible to obtain from him gradually more justice and more

charity, to introduce little by little better institutions which will

become the starting point for further progress.

This is so, providing Christians are willing to pay the price.

Progress is not inevitable, but it is possible if we are willing to

meet the requirements. Christ did not introduce into the world

a new leaven destined to split the framework of the past into

pieces. While we have not yet seen a community built entirely

on the Gospels, we have seen certain abuses disappear; we have

seen institutions more human come into being. Such a move-

ment can stop, slip backwards, or continue. The Grace which

Christ brought and which the Church has kept is still a real

force. We need only let ourselves be inspired by it. We see,
therefore, that the Church is not satisfied with affirming that

something is possible. She guarantees it with her life. This is

not the time to turn back on her, but it is the moment to

attach ourselves to her more than ever before, if we want the

courage and the means of doing something which will have an

effect on the entire world.

Faced with the perpetual temptation to oscillate between the

disunion of anarchic liberalism and the oppression of totali-

tarianism, Christianity has always reminded us of the value

of the individual and the value of the community. Both values

must be saved. Every human being is created in the image of

God, Whom he resembles in his reason and liberty. Thence

6



stems his vocation, his calling to a transcendental destiny, a

divine destiny which exceeds earthly limits. Thence arises that

sacred part of every human being which escapes any attempt

at monopolization or enslavement. Man cannot be considered

as a means to an end either of another man or of a group.

Human beings do not exist independently of one another.

They cannot develop and live alone. If it is true that their

existence depends first of all upon God, in another sense their

existence depends upon one another. That is why each belongs

to a series of societies (such as family or state) which are

required for his full development. Yet many who mouth these

words get nowhere, for they always come back to an opposi-

tion between the individualistic spirit and the community spirit.

The individual whom they wish to safeguard is not a spiritual
person, but a bundle of egoistic appetites; or the community

they wish to establish is not a part of an universal community

which communicates with the beyond. Only in the Christian

view do man and society, the individual and the community

imply each other, rather than exclude each other. Outside the

Christian view, solutions are only verbal, and one falls back

again into individualism or totalitarianism.

Humanity does not lack intelligence to solve the crushing

problems of the hour; it has always demonstrated untiring in-

genuity. Rather, true facts are needed, and thanks to the

Church we have them; we grasp them almost instinctively.

Christianity demands that we give up the egoistic point of

view—individual selfishness, class egoism, professional or na-
tional egoism. The solutions we seek cannot be based on the

ego.

7



CHAPTER II

The Idea of a Christian

Civilization

rather than examine the idea of a Christian civilization,

would it not be more rewarding to study its manifestations in

history? Perhaps not, for any descriptions of Christian civiliza-

tions presuppose that there is such a civilization. They pre-

suppose that there is an ideal state of humanity which de-

serves both the name “civilization” and the adjective “Chris-

tian,” and which can guide us in discovering what can be

called Christian in any state of humanity.

If it is true that a Christian civilization can be perceived

only in a more or a less perfect state of becoming and never

completely achieved in any given historical period (Christian

elements are always mixed with non-Christian and even anti-

Christian elements) then surely we need a norm by which we

can measure various stages of civilization.

We could admit that the historian of Christian civilization
simply studies in the development of humanity what is ex-

plainable by the influence of Christianity, but in so doing we

shift the meaning of civilization from a norm, by which we

make value judgments, to a complex ensemble of social phe-

nomena, whose real value we refuse to judge.

There are, therefore, two different meanings of the word

“civilization.” Let us remember that when we describe the

Christian civilization of a certain historical period, or when

we compare Christian civilization to other human civilizations,

our purpose is not to study a civilization derived from Chris-

tianity, but rather a state of humanity of interest to us be-

cause of its intrinsic value which, in our eyes, represents an

ideal, or at least a partial working-out of an ideal. Our concern

is with the idea of what the perfect Christian civilization would

be; we believe that this idea does have reality, and that there

is nothing contradictory about it.

The problem of “Christian civilization” is posed the moment

we join the two words. Civilization, in our judgment, is some-

thing terrestrial, something human. No one would call heaven

—the perfection of heaven—a civilization, nor even an ab-
8



sence of civilization, because heaven denotes a place beyond

the earthly state of humanity.

Even to say that civilization is impossible without religion,

or that it affects the forms of religious life, is not to call civil-

ization a religious state, for civilization remains something hu-

man, a part of temporal existence—which, incidentally, does
not mean that it includes only material elements. To identify

“temporal” and “human” is deadly, for it makes any solution

to human problems impossible.

If civilization is achieved in the temporal order, does Chris-

tianity have any effect on it? Is not civilization developed on

the very fringe of religious life? Many think so. If human

nature is essentially bad and corrupt, if man’s only motivation

is egoism—if the stability of human relationships is derived
from an equilibrium of egoisms—then most certainly Chris-
tianity cannot be a source of inspiration for civilization; Chris-

tianity cannot be mixed up with it without risking its purity.

Even more than this, Christianity must then condemn what is

called civilization, and condemn it even more strongly than

barbarianism, for here we have a refined egoism which, by

disguising itself, may fool people.

Others, who. insist less on the corruption of nature than on

the absolute transcendancy of Christianity, think that the only

means of preserving Christianity is to oppose it to everything

human. We must see Christianity, they argue, as something
completely different from that which is human. The two orders

can only develop along parallel lines, without influencing each

other. To those who defend the possibility of a Christian civil-

ization, they no longer reply, “What concord has Christ with

Belial?” but instead, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Both

these currents of thought are joined in their negation by other

currents of an entirely different nature. One of them, of which

Nietzsche is the forerunner, says there is no Christian civiliza-

tion, because Christianity is the negation of man.

Still others place their emphasis, not on the harmfulness of

Christianity but on the competence of man. While the Chris-

tian era may have been useful at one time to help man find

himself, it is necessary to move ahead. Man must free himself
from his Christian swaddling clothes. For some people religion

can play a role as a kind of personal consolation; but it is in

the pure man, freed from all transcendental influence, where

we must find the norms of civilization and the motivation to

translate them into reality. This approach has been called

“closed humanism.” The Church must not overstep her bound-

aries; priests must remain in their sacristies.

This is not the time to analyze each of these various cur-

rents of thought. What we have said about them so far is

9



sufficient to demonstrate the real question: “Is there a Chris-

tian idea of the terrestrial and human destiny of man?” “Can

Christianity make a contribution to civilization, or is its message

foreign to it?” Finally, “Does Christianity contain a force

under the influence of which the Christian idea of the tem-

poral destiny of man will become—or begin to become

—

a reality?” To these questions the Catholic Church firmly an-

swers, Yes.

Certainly, the Church does not forget the words of her

Founder: “My Kingdom is not of this world.” If by

world we mean a force which opposes the Gospel, an evil

force from which Christ came to snatch His disciples, then

Christianity evidently has nothing in common with it. But if

world means everything that is sane and well-ordered in human

relationships, Christianity still is not of it, for it has neither

beginning nor end in it. The source of Christianity is not the

same as the source of man, and its aim is not limited to giving

man a life on earth worthy of him. Christianity aims to lead

man to a state of being in which the contingencies of earthly

life are abolished and which is beyond civilization.

Any attempt to demonstrate the value of Christianity, then

have that value accepted on the basis that this is the way to

lead humanity on earth to live a human life, fails to recognize

the essence of Christianity. Even if such an attempt would

bring one to adopt the letter of Christianity, it would not bring

him to real Christianity. Withal this, it does not follow that

Christianity is indifferent to the temporal fate of man. Quite

the contrary, for through his temporal life, man prepares his

eternal life.

To come closer to the heart of the problem, let us say that

everywhere moral values are concerned, the Church affirms that

Christianity has a word to say and contributes a sovereign

force to carry them into effect. Outside the Church, it is cer-

tainly possible to attain the knowledge of moral values, but it

is impossible, without her influence, to preserve them intact

and to maintain their exacting hierarchy.

If civilization were only of the material order, if to achieve it

we needed only progress in technical inventions and an accumu-

lation of riches, certainly Christianity would have nothing to

do with it. To adopt a hierarchy of values according to which

the material good is the only good is to base oneself on a

false notion of man, and, therefore, arrive at a false idea of

civilization. We cannot describe a state of civilization without
referring to a norm which is essentially moral. If civilization

is the fulfillment of man on a human plane, if it is a state of

humanity in which man is truly a man, and not a perfected

animal, if it is a state in which men behave as men in rela-

10



tion to one another and in conformity to their true nature,

then it follows that errors of judgment on human moral

values lead humanity to a state which could not be called

civilization.

If civilization—temporal in its nature—can be called Chris-
tian, it is because Christianity has a doctrine which pertains

both to the supernatural and the natural destiny of man. To

illustrate, Christianity knows that science has a value and is

an element of civilization. It knows that the application of

science makes a higher standard of living possible, which is

also an element of civilization. But Christianity adds that an

improved material condition—humanizing when it aims at
freeing man from poverty and from immediate material cares

—becomes a corrupting agent, and therefore contrary to civil-
ization, when it no longer seeks anything but itself, when it

becomes a means of satisfying all of man’s caprices and all

his appetites. Christianity recognizes that culture, with all its

refinements, is an important element of civilization, but on the

condition that it does not turn into dilettantism, idolatry of

mind, a despisal of those who, for some reason or another,

lack it, and provided that it does not become a jealously

guarded privilege of a caste.

Christianity teaches that the desire for justice, fidelity to

one’s word in society and in international life as well as in

personal life, are indispensable elements of civilization, since

they relate to something fundamental in man or to something

which is higher in the hierarchy of human values. Christianity

teaches that kindness and pity for the weak and sick, strength

and energy, are also elements of civilization. Above all, it

teaches that even in the order of human relationships, the finest

flower of civilization is the establishment of relationships

founded not only on justice and respect for the individual but

also on charity. In short, Christianity knows what man is in

his very nature; and it is through Christianity that man learned

his true nature.

We can note that outside of Christianity, man has never
known his true nature perfectly; he has been gravely mistaken

concerning it. When he departs from Christianity, man in the

end forgets the lesson of his true nature.

The errors of ancient and of modern paganism involve not

only the supernatural and eternal destiny of man, but also his

nature and his temporal destiny; and consequently, neither

form of paganism has an exact idea of civilization. It is Chris-

tianity which has taught humanity how the individual should

be treated in social relationships, and is this not the main

element of civilization? How mistaken they are who consider
the Church as a teacher who, once having taught humanity

11



what civilization is, has made itself useless, as though man
could ever be the recipient of such an heritage, then walk alone

thereafter. Experience reveals the results of such an emancipa-

tion, for the heritage is soon squandered. Cut off from the

Christian sources from which it stems, civilization becomes de-

formed and corrupted. Outside the influence of Christianity,

man does not know himself or doubts himself, and henceforth,

he lacks the first requisite for progress.

We have noticed this vagueness, this uncertainty and lack
of precision as to what civilization is, in our contemporaries.

Without the Christian light, one does not know what can

humanize man. The destiny of man becomes, if not a mystery,

at least an enigma: like a text which he can decipher only

in parts, without any coherent meaning.

More and more we find students changing the meaning of

civilization from a norm to a description of human achieve-

ments. In this reserved attitude, there is a spirit which should

be praised, a desire to avoid narrowness by not canonizing one

particular civilization and thereby not misjudging true values

when they have been realized outside one’s own group. But

is this not an admission that there is no longer an absolute and

indubitable norm?

There is, therefore, a Christian civilization, because there is

a state of humanity which corresponds to the idea which Chris-

tianity gives us concerning the temporal destiny of man, based

on the Christian idea of human nature. If this idea is the only

true one; if, when one departs from it, he makes man less

human, then it follows that a civilization does not really merit

the name except insofar as it is Christian. Civilizations prior

to Christianity are civilizations only insofar as they antic-

ipated the Christian civilization, insofar as the idea of man on

which they were founded anticipated something of the idea

of man which Christianity came later to teach. A civiliza-
tion which has separated itself from Christianity continues to

be worthy of the name only to the extent that it retains some

Christian values.

Under these conditions, however, do we not exclude those

outside the faith from working towards a Christian civiliza-

tion? Certainly not, for we can still bring them to an apprecia-

tion of human values as Christianity presents them. They can

accept these as values and recognize their true hierarchy with-

out yet discerning their source. Insofar as they work to carry

them into effect, they collaborate in the movement towards a

Christian civilization. If they can thus recognize them and

appreciate them, it is because these values were proposed by

and are still maintained by Christianity and because they are

living in an atmosphere which continues to be Christian.

12



These values find an echo in such people because in every

man there is a natural moral sense. Left on their own, they

could not preserve the exact and complete knowledge of these

values. When the influence of the Church decreases, civiliza-

tion goes astray; it gradually ceases to be civilization. Non-

believers can, therefore, in fact work for a Christian civiliza-

tion, but each time man strays from the Christian idea of man,

he works against civilization.

Having asked ourselves if there was a Christian civiliza-

tion, we then conclude that there can be no true civilization

outside of Christianity, since a civilization must be based on

an idea of human nature which remains intact only under

Christian influence.

In consequence,' civilization will not be the exclusive work

of the Church. Even if the Church provides the idea, the form,

so to speak, how these values will be expressed, realized

and defended in concrete historical conditions must still be

discovered. Man must do this work. For example, how is cul-
ture to develop? How is it to be made available to all for
whom it is good? The Church does not tell us this. What are
the institutions which, in a given state of evolution, achieve

just relationships and favor harmony instead of opposition,

discord or hatred? Man must discover these.
Clearly, a perfect Christian civilization, in our sense, is an

historically unrealizable ideal. During those times when the

influence of the Church was most profound, defects were easily

discernible; one could see how far man was from the Chris-

tion ideal of human relationships. Christianity is not, there-

fore, civilization. It contains no ready-made plan for civiliza-

tion, but it is a great civilizing force. When we study Christian

civilizations of the past, we perceive that the full expression of

Christianity was far from achievement.

Our task, then, is to make civilization bear finer fruit in the

future. Christian civilization is always in the future. In times

like ours, we may sound ironical in talking about a Christian

civilization, but irony would be only the reaction of men of

little faith. We are being Christian when we think that the
present crisis, if only we make use of it, offers us an oppor-

tunity for progress by shedding more light on what a Chris-

tian civilization should be. The present crisis is of inestimable

worth to present-day humanity.

13



CHAPTER III

The Social Problem

pope Pius xii has often shown his concern for a reconstruc-

tion of society along Christian lines. In his 1942 Christmas

message he urges Christians to crusade for a Christian social

order. In itself, an appeal by the Sovereign Pontiff should de-

velop in us a concern for the social problem. We have no
right to consider papal pronouncements as ritualistic phrases

to which we listen respectfully, but are in no way bound or in

no way constrained to modify our conduct.

We need only to take an honest view of the world in order
to see that the Holy Father dealt with a question whose study

is mandatory and whose solution is urgent. The social problem

did not arise today or yesterday, but it is one of the essential

elements of the history of the second half of the nineteenth

century. The rise of Communism, not only as a doctrine but

also as a concrete manifestation, has made the social problem

even more acute.

The present world turmoil, with all its suffering, is as always

more burdensome to the underprivileged and will inevitably

make them impatient with injustice and eager to share the

goods they have produced. Their reaction may sometimes be

warped; it will inevitably be influenced by man’s weaknesses.

Yet no deaf ear can be turned to their requests, nor can force

be used to keep them purely and simply in their place.

Could we, in fact, find many today who would defend the

old state of affairs? The upheaval caused by World War II

and the readjustment it has required has given to those peo-

ple with ideas an opportunity to bring about social transforma-

tions. In the decisive moments at hand, when orientations are

being determined which will long shape life in society, Chris-

tians must not be caught unprepared. Because they have not

thought or have not been able to take a stand, Christians must

not be reduced to sterile opposition nor be followers of a

mixed ideology. Both attitudes would be disastrous. It is im-

perative, therefore, that those who want to be ready to play

a role tomorrow must set to work today.

We cannot hope that a state of affairs consonant with Chris-
tian requirements will arise of itself, as a sort of equilibrium

resulting from forces at play. Justice will always be the victory

14



over oppression, anarchy and disorder. It is vain to dream of

a spontaneous accord of self-interests which need only to be

enlightened. People will always be tempted to succeed through

force or ruse in going beyond their right to assure themselves

of a privileged situation. The beneficiaries will not always be

the same, but if we give free play to “natural forces,” there

will inevitably be oppressors and the oppressed. A just order
can only come as a result of the efforts of a moral will.

Let us suppose that a just order may be established some-

day. It will still always be threatened and must always be re-

constructed. A simple change of economic conditions alone
would suffice to require transformations, for what is acceptable

and desirable in a given state can thereafter become a factor

of injustice. On the other hand, the tendency to reverse the

situation to one’s own advantage will always remain alive and

will always need to be checked. The Christian, therefore, will

always be obliged to work in this domain of making what

should be win out over what is. He should not be deluded

into thinking that a momentary effort can bring about peace

and lasting stability.

The social problem must be considered as a whole. By the

expression “social question” we have become too accustomed

to meaning the question of the working class. This has not

been arbitrary, for indeed the problem of the working class is

the one question which the development of industry and capi-

talism brought into existence in the nineteenth century. The

working class in Europe has been the class least integrated into

the nation, and among the workers the most dire poverty has

been found.

For a clear vision, we must consider the social problem as

a whole, without neglecting the problem of the farmer, for

example, or the Negro, or the middle classes. Indeed, it is im-

possible to understand the place, function and rights of any

one social group if we do not know those of the other social

groups. Here we deal with the inner relationships within the

whole, and we use the image of the limbs and body.

Furthermore, through an understandable but nonetheless ill-

founded reaction, those who have long been victims of an in-

justice, even though they do not yield to their desire for

vengeance, easily fail to recognize the rights of those against

whom they complain. Not satisfied with putting the oppressors
back in their place, the oppressed tend to impose on them a

fate similar to their own. Whereas we should support the op-

pressed in their efforts for liberation, we should not abet their

abuses, nor take their rancors as our own. We must be in-
spired by true charity, which will lead us to do justice to all.

While we shall not discuss these problems in detail, we do

15



want to distinguish between the doctrine of the Church in

social matters (what she teaches in the name of authority

received from Christ and binding on all) and what each Chris-

tian, in light of the Church’s teaching, must seek on his own

responsibility. Here we shall dwell on the common teachings

of the Catholic Church.

The Church teaches, first of all, that the Christian has a

duty to be interested in the social problem, even though it be

of the temporal order. She teaches us what goal must be set

forth for the organization of relationships between social

groups. She lays down the requirements which an acceptable

solution must meet; she sets forth the ideas which must guide

the search for these solutions. She does not dictate concrete so-

lutions, although she can condemn those solutions which do

not meet her requirements.

The social problem is of an essentially temporal order. It

is an organization of life on this earth, an order destined to

pass away and which will not remain unto eternity. Not only

is the Christian duty-bound to take an interest in the social

problem, but he is duty-bound because he is a Christian and

because of the requirements of his Christian faith. Briefly,

there are two reasons for this. First of all, social conditions,

the state of social relationships, react on the life of the indi-

vidual and condition, for good or bad, the birth, development

and practice of his moral and religious life.

That man is still free and even in the most favorable con-

ditions can refuse to live morally and religiously is true. That

the moral and religious life can be lived under any and all con-

ditions (because the grace of God can transform all obstacles

into means) is also true. For the average man, however (and

this is our point), either destitution or super-abundance, either

the feeling of being a victim of injustice or the feeling of being

able to dispose of others according to his wishes, are in reality

stumbling blocks. The Christian must eliminate them so far

as is possible. Leo XIII, in particular in his Rerum Novarum,

has reminded us of this duty.

There is a second and more fundamental reason why a

Christian must take an interest in the social problem. What

we seek for all eternity is communion with God and com-

munion of human beings among themselves. The two are in-

separable, just as love of God and love of neighbor are in-

separable. If we truly love God, we shall not wait for heaven

to begin our communion with Him, although it can only be

complete there. We shall, instead, strive to make this com-
munion as complete as possible on earth, in a life of grace.

Likewise, if we sincerely love our neighbors, we should do

everything possible for them right now to help them become

16



aware of their worth as individuals, to make the respect for

the individual certain, to bring men together in unity. This

presupposes certain social conditions.

There are forms of government which either hinder or favor

the awareness of the individual person of his own worth, which

either guarantee or subjugate his rights. There are institu-

tions which express or abet union; others are forces of separa-

tion, or opposition, which tend to breed misunderstanding,

envy, hatred, for of these such institutions were born. The

communion of individuals will be perfectly achieved only in

heaven, but the Christian who sincerely desires communion

with God cannot fail to begin to desire it on earth and to work

for it as much as possible. Looking at all institutions, he asks

himself whether or not they hinder the communion of indi-

vidual men, a communion which he will never really find

perfect enough either in depth or breadth. Therein lies a prin-

ciple for action for the Christian, for, although only a miser-

able, rough outline of the heavenly city can be achieved here

below, the Christian never wearies of trying to make it less

imperfect.

Such necessary action in the temporal order, particularly in

the social order, can be considered under the aspect of justice

and under the aspect of charity, both of which must never be

disassociated, because even if their inner requirements are dif-

ferent, inner connections do exist between them.

We must strive, first of all, for an order of justice based on
law. The notion of law is primary in the social order, for it

shows that our relationships with others are not founded simply

on a free generosity. Mutual requirements must be met and

must be sanctioned by law. These mutual requirements aim to

guarantee the existence and development of the individual;

they include a material aspect because man also has a body.

They are not alms overflowing from the superfluity of others,

but are a just distribution of material goods, guided not by

envious equalitarianism, but according to what is necessary for

the exercise of the functions which each has in respect to the

welfare of the group.

We must remember, moreover, that when those in high
places engage in the race for wealth and luxury, they create

beneath them a similar greed which will likewise be insatiable

and which will make the problem of the distribution of wealth

in peace and justice insoluable and a matter of force. These

requirements of justice are not limited to the material situa-

tion, even if this is generously provided for, because a person

is quite different than a well-fed animal.

It is in the name of charity that a Christian seeks an order

of justice. Because he loves his neighbor, he wants to guar-

17



antee him his full rights and prevent an encroachment of

them. The Christian must be convinced that the first form of

charity towards neighbor is justice towards him. If one be-

comes resigned to injustice, without making an effort to right

it, then no gift, not even that which is duty-bound, can have

any value.

An arrangement which guarantees the rights of each indi-
vidual must never lead to an isolated enjoyment of such rights

in peace and quiet, with a minimum of contacts, each indi-

vidual remaining enclosed in his own separated domain. There

must be other social relationships in addition to the exchange

of services regulated by justice. A society in which justice alone
reigned, in which each gave to others only what the law re-

quired, would not be the Christian ideal in the temporal order.

Such a restriction is unacceptable, not only between individuals

but also between groups. A work of charity must go beyond
relationships of justice. While it is through charity that a

Christian practices justice, justice may be required of others

who do not want to submit to it. It is important that justice

create and organize the means of constraining those who wish

to avoid justice. Charity, on the other hand, can never be re-

quired, not only because the person who is its object has no

right to require it, but also because what charity gives has

worth only if it is given freely, i.e., if in giving, one gave

something of himself. Everything connected with friendship

in its broadest sense is connected with charity, for friendship

has no meaning if it is not a gift of oneself.

Various forms of socialism frequently err in seeking to build

a human society solely on justice. Too often they place more

into the idea of justice than it really contains, while the char-

ity they cast over is only a caricature of true charity. We must
always reproach ourselves if we vilify or disfigure charity; we

must restore a true understanding of it. Nevertheless, outside

of Christianity, the role of charity in social relations is inade-

quately understood. Let us try to clarify it.

Let us first of all consider what may be called the secondary

functions of charity , those which are temporary or, if they are

permanent, only meet a deficiency. First of all, charity paves

the way for justice. We cannot succeed in having rights recog-
nized immediately. In fact, it is possible to show that almost

everything we now recognize as rights was first given in the

name of charity. That is, so to speak, a necessary transition.

By going beyond the justice of the moment, we prepare for

the coming of a more perfect justice in the future. Charity thus

serves the discovery of justice and even makes it possible by

the transformation it achieves in man’s judgments. We must
be aware of the transition from the order of charity to the

18



order of justice, transition which is not necessarily finished;

we must accept the fact that what we first gave freely may

thereafter be required of us.

Secondly, charity must strive to compensate for the deficien-

cies of justice. First, those which are in themselves avoidable,

but which blindness or egoism (more often both at the same

time) of a given society still tolerate. Charity has the duty

of attenuating the sufferings which result therefrom. In its

struggle against the sufferings brought about by injustice, char-

ity must also struggle against the injustice itself and never be

a substitution for injustice. To forget this truth would bring

disrepute to charity.

Charity must also fight against the unavoidable deficiencies

of justice. No society can be perfectly organized, completely

free from injustice. The unforseeable mishaps in social life

can never be totally repaired by general measures. Men, too,

make mistakes which bring suffering to themselves and for

which they have no one to blame but themselves. Charity must

not remain indifferent to sufferings caused by our own guilt.

Were it not for charity, many people would have no way of

rising up again.

Once we have pointed out that there is suffering which does

not depend on the organization of society, but on the inevit-

abilities of human nature, we find ourselves more fully in the

domain of charity. It is up to charity to give comfort. A human
society in which man would be left to himself in his moral

suffering would be untenable. To call this the only role of

charity, however, would make charity dependent on human

suffering and consequently would admit that charity has no

reason for existence outside the realm of suffering. This is to

base charity on pity and to consider it as a relationship between

a superior and an inferior.

The charity between equals has an important place in the

life of society. It consists of a mutual enrichment through an

exchange of what one possesses rather than an exchange of

measurable services. Charity must be exchanged between

groups as well as between individuals. In each social group, by

reason of its type of life, there is a particular form of human

experience (it may even have the form of a religious experi-

ence) which makes it possible for the members to enrich one

another.

Yet charity does not stop here, for it presupposes a com-

munion sought after for itself which, in a broad sense, we

might call simply friendship. Relationships of friendship are

not only a means of mutual enrichment but also a means

towards union, one of whose essential factors will be partici-

pation in tasks which reach outside the individuals or groups.

19



Thus, the social problem, when considered from the Chris-

tian standpoint, i.e., an effort to work out on the temporal

plane a human order which corresponds to Christian require-

ments, demands the establishment of a social order which

guarantees the person a respect for his rights, but which never-

theless goes far beyond this through charity.

20



CHAPTER IV

Community

we understand by “community” a form of life desirable for
any and all groups which men establish among themselves.

We are seeking a way of life, whether it be family, work, na-
tional or religious, which conforms with human and Christian

requirements and which implies both a structure and a spirit,

neither of which can be separated from the other. Some social

structures encourage divisions and strife and are, therefore,

opposed to a community spirit; whereas community spirit is

not sincere if it does not seek to create structures which enable

it to develop fully.

Our task is to discover how groups can be transformed into

communities. Community life will always be lived differently

by different groups, depending on their aims, size, structure,

etc. Yet a few essential traits to be found in all groups can

be pointed out. Clearly, there is no community in a simple

group, like a crowd touching elbows, nor in a simple coming

together, like students in a classroom. Even if the members be

bound together by the same goal, they constitute no commu-

nity if they are not united by the search for the goal. An
interdependence which will create a kind of unity will exist

between them; but never a community. Workmen on the same

production line are closely united; but they are not therefore

a community. Nor does a community exist where a group

works for the interest of the few, the remainder being in fact

or in theory simple instruments. The union must be for the

good of all.

Nor would there be a community if some members had only

to give and others only to receive, because community pre-

supposes true exchange; and exchange not only in the realm of

material or spiritual goods (teaching, for example). There must

be the reciprocal gift of oneself, for which other exchanges

are only the means or occasion. Community, therefore, can

be reconciled with a diversity of functions and a hierarchy, so

long as it posits a fundamental equality, in virtue of which

each can give and receive; give not only what is his but also

of himself; and enrich and be enriched by others, not only

in the realm of “having” but also in the realm of “being.” In

21



the community, the source of exchange can be found only in

mutual love.

To say that there must be communion between the mem-

bers of community (that is, mutual enrichment, a communica-

tion between souls which has value in itself) is not to add

something new to our discussion, but rather to go deeper.

Men are not made only to help one another, but also to unite
through what is deepest in them, both of which are essential

to true love. No community may be achieved where one does
not feel quam bonum et quam jucundum habitare fratres in

unum.

This amounts to saying that there is a community only

where each man is treated as a person. One could, by starting

with the needs of the person, discover the traits of a commu-

nity, since the community is the society which is suitable to per-

sons. Any human group which does not serve as the framework

for a community is, therefore, to be changed. When men enter

into contact with one another, it should be to enrich themselves

through a mutual gift and to achieve communion.

Let us draw from these remarks a few conclusions on the

requirements for creating a community. A community does
not permit the distinction between “Thine” and “Mine.” This

is not to be confused with a communism (even one freed from

a materialistic philosophy), for by taking away a possession,

communism takes away the possibility of giving. Envy and

pride, under the appearance of justice, are the beneficiary.

Community says man should possess, but in order to give

rather than to enjoy; either to give everything at once, as in

certain vocations, or to give continuously all through life. This

“giving” cannot be haphazardly done. Each of us belongs to

various groups and may have particular responsibilities towards

certain people, although each individual has responsibilities

towards all. There is, therefore, a normal order in the act of

giving, dictated by responsibilities, but there are also urgent

cases which sometimes require us to be able to upset the usual

order.

This holds true not only in the giving of material goods, but

also for the gift of intelligence and the most spiritual gifts.

We have a duty to others to give something to them, but let
us not give our wheat to be eaten before it has ripened. We
must have the patience to let our harvest ripen, not that we

can then put it in our barn for our own profit, but so that

we can distribute it to others. In short, we must come back

to the Christian idea apcording to which we possess only in

order to become a giver. Possession in a community is not

a privilege but rather a responsibility.

Since the community demands a personal exchange, mem-

22



bership must not be compulsory. While one may belong to a

group, whether he wishes to or not, he must freely join a

community. A membership which is interior cannot be forced.
Nor can it be extorted by propaganda. There is no true com-

munity where the union is achieved only under the influence of

propaganda which usually does away with freedom. A true
community can be formed only where refusal to join is risked.

Members must be attracted to the community; the problem is

to know how to attract others while respecting their freedom.

The community is not exclusive; if it fails to integrate all

the members, it destroys itself. Even more so, a particular com-

munity must never be closed within itself. The members par-

ticipate in other groups where they also must live a community

life (for example, one must not close himself within his fam-

ily). Each limited community must be integrated into a broader

community, in which it has a particular role.

The first obstacle to a community is individual egoism,

which divides the members and causes opposition. Once this is

overcome, and the joy of union is established, a second danger

arises, even more difficult to deal with, for here the members

are so content together they refuse to broaden. The result is

group egoism, not community.

Each community, therefore, should look upon itself as a per-

son with certain characteristics, who must give to others and

receive from them. The broadest community is humanity, out

of which we must strive to make a true community, perhaps

the most difficult task of all. But to lose hope a priori and be

satisfied with making a lesser community the highest com-

munity (whether it be nation, state, race, or a part of the

world) is not only to limit ourselves but also to corrupt all the

subordinate communities. If the family community, the work-

ing community, the professional community, for example, are

related only to the state or to a race, they are no longer what

they should be. The highest community, humanity itself, aims

at developing individuals and their communion. But a person

can develop only if he is open to all other men, if he aspires

to give to all and receive from all; he can commune fully

with another only if he aspires to commune with all. To in-

troduce a limitation voluntarily not only prevents humanity

from being a community but it also prevents the subordinate

communities and each individual from having true existence.

While communities which are large, in which all who are

members share a community life (humanity, for example), are

not always possible, there must still be a union of “heart”

which will be expressed by a real union just as often as cir-

cumstances permit.

Only the Church teaches what we should help each other to

23



become. Only God’s grace, normally communicated through

the sacraments, can give us the love which must be the soul

of this mutual devotion. Only by communing in God can men

commune perfectly with each other. If men should unite, it

should not be for profit nor to savor the pride of the strength

of their union, but rather it should be to give themselves all

together to God. The Church, therefore, is the only complete

community in which human individuals can find their fulfill-

ment by participating through Christ in the life of the Blessed

Trinity.

The Holy Trinity, perfect unity with absolute distinction,

living reality of infinite Love, is both the model and also the

source of any true community. The more deeply we compre-

hend this mystery, the better we will understand what we must

achieve. Taken collectively, the human race bears the indelible

mark of the Trinity. That is why each of its members bears

within himself, in spite of all the divisions and strife, this

deep tendency to live united with the others in love, this need

to base all his relations with others on love, this propensity

towards total unity: one shepherd and one flock. In the exact

measure in which they do not resist what God has placed in

them, men tend to love each other with a love which is part

of that love with which the Divine Persons love each other.

Sin alone divides. Conjugal, fraternal or filial love, the love

which one has for his fellow workers, fellow citizens, for all

men, are refractions of the one and only Love.

The Church is the organ through which the love which creates

communities is introduced and propagated in the world. She

is the life of the Trinity extended to the earth and shared by

men. Thus she is not just one community among others, no

more than the Christian life is merely a part of our life. All

others live by it, moreover sometimes without realizing it. Her

ambition is to group them all in her unity. The Christian

should therefore be a community builder, no matter where he

lives. But in order that the creative community love should

live again in our world, in order that divisive egoism (the root

and fruit of sin) might be overcome, the tragedy of Calvary

was necessary. Only to the extent that the Christian is willing

to share in the Cross of Christ will he be a community builder.

24



CHAPTER V

Problems of the State

when we try, as Christians, to discover what our attitudes

should be towards the changes now taking place in society, we

must bear in mind that our goal is to create conditions in the

world favorable for man to march onward to his eternal

destiny.

In the few pages of this chapter, we cannot draw up a de-

tailed plan of action for Christians. Nor can we content our-

selves with a statement of a few general ethical principles valid

in any and all historical circumstances. Rather, our aim is to

sketch a kind of dynamic schema, which will keep us from

walking blindly, at the mercy of expediency.

Today’s crisis is one of humanity, not just of one nation. Al-

though we cannot date the beginnings of it, we can pinpoint

certain revealing events which, to be sure, are end results but

nonetheless starting points.

Such an event, for example, was the rise of Lenin to power

in 1917. We could talk at length on the almost fortuitous
nature of the event, noting the ineptitude of the government

which was overthrown. We could discuss the objective mean-
ing of the event: did Lenin represent the proletariat? Was his

coup d'etat the same as seizures of power through insurrection

recorded in other periods of history? Interesting as these dis-

cussions might be, the overwhelming fact remains that the

event itself was the source of a movement, of a series of dis-

turbances, actions and reactions which continue yet today

under our eyes and which are now determining factors in our

bwn action.

The changes taking place today have disconcerted those who

had been accustomed to slow modifications of history and who

had regarded any violent efforts simply as a squall whose de-

struction might be widespread but in the end superficial, the

ground remaining solid on which to reconstruct the same model

as before. The situation is quite the contrary. To understand

such changes, we must compare them to geological phenomena

which modify the deep structures of the earth. It is quite pos-

sible, in our human organization of life, that alongside the

slow and continuous evolutions, there exist moments of change

which are both sudden and deep, which are linked to the past

25



as well as determined by it, but in which the accumulated

forces cause an explosion in history.

The Christian has an obligation to keep in touch with the

world-in-the-making. To remain inert, either from timidity or

indifference, is to make the problems more formidable. Sooner

or later we must face the problems of our age, if we do not

want humanity to be developed completely outside the influ-

ence of Christianity. Let us, therefore, not complain about the

present situation. Let us not look for an alibi in recriminations

against past responsibilities. Let us not pass on to our succes-

sors a still heavier burden.

Let us note a few characteristics of our times. First of all,

we are dealing with a crisis of civilization. It is not simply a

question of readapting techniques or inventing new ones in

order to attain an end which remains unchanged. Rather, we

must reclassify the values which are a guide to action. The

very concept of man, which guided us in the past, is now being

questioned. There is a current conviction today that until now

no one has really understood the true nature of man, that the

traditional human ideal has in reality given us only a mutilated,

disfigured image of what man really is.

In the background of a great many plans for reform today

we can find a protest against the idea of man which has guided

life until now. In reality, these new reforms seek to create a

new humanity. Hence, the popularity of such thinkers as

Nietzsche and Marx who, until now, had remained outside the

stream of current ideas. Marx, indeed had been studied seri-

ously, especially his economic theories. But the basic criticism

was always made that Marxist economy was not suited to the

achievement of what was considered an ideal of human life.

Much less attention was given to the new concept of man which

Marx presented. Few critics pointed out that Marxist economics

had no meaning without a Marxist man, that Marx wanted his

new economy for his new man. Today, however, people are

interested in the new man of Marx. They realize that the main

question up for debate is whether or not we can accept the

Marxist idea of man. Did Marx really understand the true

nature of man, they are asking.

We must pose the same question of the various totalitarian
movements which have arisen in our age. Can we accept their

idea of man? The discussion cannot be limited to economic

reforms, political reforms or social reforms. These are but the

consequences or the means. The pertinent question is: What is

their concept of man?

This is the crux of the present crisis of civilization. Accord-

ing to what concept of man are we going to live? At the service

of what ideal of human life shall we place the immense tech-

26



nical advances of our age? We cannot accept just any idea of
man.

Let us repeat, there is a new notion of man spreading

throughout the world today, and not merely an economic or

social or political change. We cannot understand the reforms
proposed in these areas unless we know the idea of man which

explains them. If it is true that politics, economics and sociol-

ogy derive their significance through the human element they

express, then they are determined by the idea of man which

they try to translate into reality.

What are the characteristics of the new human ideal which is

gaining currency? First of all, one of its most visible traits is

the awakening of a community spirit. We must clarify this, be-
cause totalitarianism does not reflect a true community spirit

but instead a false enjoyment of it. We are witnessing today a
clear rejection of individualism, explainable in part by the gre-

gariousness of man, but also in part by the fact that the relin-

quishment of personal thought and will within a collectivity

frees man from personal responsibility to think and will for

himself. This is a serious phenomenon.

Another factor is the feeling of the inhuman quality of an

isolated individualism and the solitude to which it has con-

demned man, and all this in spite of the large number of ap-

parent relationships with other men. Once individualism had

dissolved the human community and prevented it from rebuild-

ing, man became the victim of collective movements. As it so

often happens, the reaction has been ill-formed. As Father de

Lubac remarked, “Rationalism chased away mystery; myth has

taken its place.” Man was not made to live in the atmosphere

of the purely rational, in which individualism placed him. Lack-

ing mystery, he fell victim to the myth of the collectivity.

We cannot, therefore, condemn either individualism or the
reactions against it, without reservations. The notion of the

individual is not primitive in society, for in the earliest times

we find groups in which the individual has no value. The in-

dividual is first submerged in the group, which does not repre-

sent a human community, because the personal value of each

is not recognized. The individual must free himself from the

group; he must become aware of what differentiates him from

the others.

Such an awareness may result in individualism, according to

which each individual makes himself the center and the final

end, whereas he should realize that he cannot achieve full de-

velopment except through and for others. If he understands this,

then he lives as a “person,” neither lost in the group nor iso-

lated as an individual, neither the means to an end which is

beyond him nor an end unto himself apart from other men.

27



“Sub-personal” unity must be torn down in order that unity

may be built on a higher plane where the individualities may

find their deeper bond. The error of the current anti-individual-

ism is that it would destroy the individual in its very attempt

to remove the danger of individualism.

There is a second characteristic of the new human ideal, un-

doubtedly connected with the first one. It is a reaction against

any form of 19th century liberalism, i.e., against a certain tend-

ency to trust the individual and to rely on a spontaneous har-

mony among human activities, especially in economics and cul-

ture. Few today hold this theory of liberalism, i.e., the creation

of an atmosphere which offers favorable conditions under which

an individual may flower freely, each in his own way. Accord-

ing to this notion, the collectivity, the government, merely

furnishes the means, extends to the greatest number possible

those conditions necessary for a full development, as each in-

dividual understands full development, intervenes only to pre-

vent individuals from harming one another, and forbids en-

croachments and oppressions.

Totalitarianism rejects this viewpoint completely. It believes

that a collective end must be obtained, and each individual

must strive for it. Individuals are not to develop according to

their own fancy, but they must join collective movements which

will work out the human ideal decided upon by the group. The

consequence is the disappearance of the “category of the pri-

vate.” Public life and private life can still be distinguished from

each other, according to the activities pursued, but not as

though public life were a loan to the whole group, while pri-

vate life is the domain of the individual, he being the lord in

his own home, free to establish himself, act and think as he

sees fit.

In seeking to create a new man, totalitarianism fashions him

as much in his private life as in his public life. It pursues man

not only in his outward gestures but in his inner thoughts. It

aims at creating in man new ways of judging and feeling, which

apply even to artistic matters. It penetrates man’s mind in order

to model it according to one type. Since it does not trust the

individual to create this single type mind, the collectivity must

do it. Since force is required to constrain man, the State must

assume the task.

Hence, an enormous role is assigned to the State, no matter

what its ideology be. Its form must be dictatorial, not tempo-

rarily in order to lead the nation out of a difficulty, but essen-

tially by its very function. The State can play its role only if

it has all the powers. Since its aim is not only administration

but also the creation of a new humanity, the State prefers not

to rule by force. It wants the people to love and desire what

28



the State prescribes. It seeks to identify the will of the individ-

ual with the will of the State. Not satisfied with forcing the

citizen to submit, it attempts to transform him inwardly, in

order that he judge everything according to the ideas of the

State.

This is why, according to totalitarianism, man becomes what

he should be only when he identifies himself with the aims of

the State. The totalitarian State claims to be the highest achieve-

ment of democracy: it obtains, so it says, freely consented

obedience. This is not mere witticism or a propaganda slogan;

it is a definition of the State’s goal. The individual is to become

so permeated with the State that he spontaneously agrees with

it in all matters. Would this not be the full flowering of democ-

racy?

Such is the process by which the individual is to be molded

even in his spiritual being. Let us repeat, the totalitarian State

does not wish to be obeyed like the old-fashioned tyrannies,

but its ambition is to be “total.” It wants to win over, persuade,

but at the same time it will not permit any one to refuse join-

ing with it. Since an individual left free to himself might reject

the State, free choice must be eliminated.

The Totalitarian State needs slaves, but slaves who are con-

vinced they are free. It wants to seize the spontaneity, kindle

the enthusiasm, profit by the impetus which exists among those

who think they are giving themselves freely. How succeed in
this? How enslave while giving the illusion of freedom? Propa-
ganda is an essential element of the totalitarian State. If we

understand exactly what totalitarianism expects of propaganda,

we will fear the propaganda technique. By propaganda is not

meant information or education, nor even lies. Propaganda is

deceitful not only in what it says but also in its principle, for

it means domination and enslavement of man’s entire being, all

the while leading him to think he is free and attaining full

development.

Since the State has the mission to create a new humanity,

we can understand why it must integrate within itself all of

man’s activities, from the production and distribution of wealth

to culture. Man is not only a producer and a consumer; he also
lives by the spirit. No part of him must escape the State, espe-
cially not his economic life.

The State, therefore, is the antithesis of individualistic eco-

nomics. In certain respects this is a step forward, for no one

any longer believes in the free operation of economic laws; no

one any longer believes in an economic order in and for itself.

Rather, the new man believes that the economic order has value

only within the larger order it must serve. This could be ex-

cellent, except that, unfortunately, the human order which it

29



serves under totalitarian auspices is far from a true order. Once

again the reaction against an inhuman situation leads to a situ-

ation equally inhuman.

Under these conditions, the State, which bends everything to

itself, does not itself bend to any authority. If it is to achieve

its highest value of a “new man,” it must have free play. Noth-

ing must hinder it. Let no one seek to subject it to rules which

can really only be prejudices, since they hinder the achievement

of what should be—the end and reason for everything. Any-
thing that impedes the State is immoral. No longer is the State

a simple safeguard of an interest; it is now backed by an ideal

which has an absolute value. While it may, in a sense, become

less base and sordid, it is in reality more imperious and devour-

ing.

Such is the role of the State according to totalitarianism.

True enough, its theorists sometimes allow a certain pluralism.

They will admit, for example, that the ideal of the “new man”

may vary from country to country. They will say that the ideal

of Italian Fascism was not exactly the same as that of National

Socialism. Yet we never get away from the idea of totalitarian-

ism. In working a national type out, no freedom is left to the

individual or to subordinate communities. The State, as a result,

becomes identified with the Fatherland. Even if the identifica-

tion is not always formally expressed, the fact remains that the

State alone is the interpreter of the national values. The co-

existence of diverse spiritual families, each of which emphasiz-

ing one aspect of the national heritage, is not permitted. The

State alone decides the ideal of the nation. All those who op-

pose the State are excluded from the country.

There is, therefore, no longer a distinction between State,

Nation, and Country. The State is no longer an independent

entity which groups under its sovereign authority individuals

or groups for their natural common good. All the emotional

forces which the idea of “country” awakens are transferred to

the State and to the man in whom the State is incarnated. It is
essential to totalitarian movements that the State be incarnated

in a man.

The fact that the State takes charge of everything explains its

hostility to other communities. Inevitably it is opposed to them.

Yet every true community does, in fact, develop its own ideal,

which in turn gives a certain coloring to the national ideal.

These community ideals can and should converge. If need be,

individual communities should give up their own private inter-

est in favor of the country: one of their requirements for ex-

istence is that they live off the country as branches live off the

sap of the trunk of a tree. Yet each does have its role to play.

This is precisely what the totalitarian State refuses to accept,

30



for it not only fears the limiting effects of these individual

communities on the State omnipotence, but also it wishes to de-

cide by itself what the ideal is to be. The fault of the totali-

tarian State lies not in the desire to be strong in its own domain,

but in its desire to absorb everything, to become the source of

everything, to be the unique creator of the “new man.”

We are not, therefore, dealing with some irrational and
chance phenomenon, engendered by the needs of the economic

situation. Certain difficulties of life in society require a stronger

power which can take everything in hand during a certain

crisis. But the totalitarian enterprise is a permanent one. It

consists of creating a “new man,” in substituting the so-called

“true” man for the lie that man was in the liberal age.

Forces of opposition have arisen against the totalitarian rev-

olution, all of them varying in value. In the reaction, there

have been two component parts: on the one hand, the reaction

of a disturbed egoism, i.e., the reaction of people who, shaken

in their habits of thought and life, refused to yield their dear

conveniences and looked with irony at all attempts to do some-

thing new. On the other hand, there has been the feeling that

in the new ideal of human existence now proposed, something

essential has been forgotten or sacrificed.

Among those reacting are the “personalists” who clearly see
that a new notion of man must be worked out, but one which

does not sacrifice either liberty or community, which does not

make anarchy out of liberty and oppression out of community.

Personalism tries to balance the tension between both elements

in its concept of man. It is in constant danger of becoming

either individualism or a transposed Communism. Personalists

have fully understood the total unity of the human order, in

that the “new man” can be achieved only in community institu-

tions in the social, political and economic orders.

To resist the invasion of the State, we must create new com-

munities. We must transform into organized communities those
natural groups which form spontaneously, for these natural

groups keep the State within its bounds, without reducing its

strength in its rightful domain. They act as counter-weights.

By destroying man’s isolation, these communities satisfy man’s

thirst for communion. He is no longer tempted by the massive

fusion which totalitarianism offers him. We dare not return to
the crumbling of community life and the isolation which the

age of excessive liberalism inflicted on humanity; we must make

some kind of community effort.

If our intermediary communities are really alive, their mem-

bers will be deeply attached to them, and they will feel that

they really have something to defend against the excesses of

State control. Not only do community organizations counter-

31



balance the State, but community spirit creates inner centers

of resistance against totalitarian claims.

The State must be strong to be an arbiter able to impose

decisions, but a strong State is always dangerous, because it

has the tendency to seize everything for itself. Power maddens.

Hence, the tendency must be counter-balanced, although no mat-

ter how well organized these community organizations might

be, their role will not be effective if we do not take an active

interest in them. When the citizens no longer know why they

should oppose the dissolution by the State of the intermediate

communities, these communities will not hold up, no matter

how legally solid they might be. But if, on the contrary, we

are attached to them, the danger can be met. Our conclusion,

then, is that in order to maintain a strong, healthy State, we

must create real communities which are not mere frameworks

or administrative units, but living units, within which a power-

ful community spirit can be developed. There is no true com-

munity where there is no true feeling of attachment to it.

On this level, we are in a better position to work than the

others. Our Christianity, even on the temporal plane, is not

resolved into legal situations. It communicates to us a feeling

of a collective life which is inner and deep. We know by ex-
perience that the ecclesiastical institutions would be nothing if

there were not, within the Church, Christians who love her

and who love one another. What gives the Church strength

and force is not the exterior perfection of her institutions; but

our attachment to her. Wherever this attachment weakens, even

if the façade is still strong, when a hard blow comes, the

Church falls. When Christians are really attached to the Church

with their hearts, she resists all attacks, even if her institutions

are not too well developed or if she is in a situation which

does not appear too promising.

32



CHAPTER VI

Civic Education

civic education aims at developing an attitude towards the

State and an attitude towards the Country. Both must be

treated separately.

The State is an organization of a legal and social nature and

a ilecessary agent of political life, which operates within well

defined areas. Between the State and its citizens, there is a re-

lationship of reciprocal rights and duties. On the other hand,

the Country, which is the extension of a family, retains the

concrete, living nature of a family. It is a spiritual reality

(carnal in its roots, it has no value except through its soul,

even though it cannot exist without a body); it is an object of

love. The citizen, therefore, not only has duties to his State,

but he must love his Country, just as a family is not a group

of beings faithful to certain duties, but supposes an intimacy,

a family feeling. When dealing with the Country, civic educa-

tion will not consist merely in convincing us that we have cer-

tain duties, but it will develop our love for our Country, so

that we will give it vigor and warmth while preserving it from

errors.

Let us, then, discuss civic education, first as regards the State,

then as regards the Country.

The tradition of the Church bases the duty of obeying politi-

cal power on the principle that political authority, in its own

domain, is representative of God. The Church does not base the

duty on the qualities of those possessing the authority. When

the Catholic participates in political campaigns, he may pro-

claim the special gifts of his candidate, but the Catholic

Church makes no such calculations when she faces an estab-

lished power. No matter what the personal qualities of those
governing might be, the Church asks the same obedience to

them. Even on the natural level, a good government desires

obedience on the basis of its authority rather than on the value

of its members. The first consideration is universally valid and

not subject to debate, whereas the second is the cause of in-

numerable contentions.

During times of transition from one government to another,

we risk crises which are inevitable. Therefore, besides the reli-

gious idea of obedience to God, we must insist on the human

33



idea of the necessity for a supreme authority in a Nation. In

the national interest, this consideration must be primary,

whereas the consideration of personal qualities as a basis for

allegiance brings it with all kinds of serious consequences.

Citizens must learn to obey governmental power not because

they have chosen the leaders or because the leaders please them,

but because these leaders are legitimately in power.

Yet we cannot neglect to teach young Catholics that govern-

mental authority, even when legitimate, cannot be obeyed if it

orders something contrary to religion or ethics. Obedience does

not mean yielding personal conscience. The Catholic must judge

the authority from the moral aspect before joining with it. He

knows that in so doing he is still serving his country, for in

any case of immoral action, the country is the loser. Govern-

mental authority is angered by such an attitude only when,

unwittingly or not, it prefers itself to the interests it is supposed

to serve. The Catholic should try to create around him a public

opinion which requires government to respect ethics in domestic

and foreign politics. The action of public opinion, even when

diffused in its application, is always effective.

Neither must we confuse a strong State with a State which

intervenes in everything. To strengthen the State is not identi-

cal with allowing it to extend itself to everything. We should
show how the rights of the State are limited by the rights of

the Church, the family, natural associations and the individual.

We do this not to harass the State but for the common wel-
fare. To refuse to accept the State’s rejection of Ethics is not

insubordination.

Obedience and approval, however, are not identical. We
must obey even when we do not approve (providing our dis-

approval is not the result of a moral judgment). We do not
need to approve everything we are obliged to obey. We need
only be certain that our disapproval is based on serious consid-

erations, not on egoistic motives or prejudices. To require ap-

proval under the pretext of making obedience easier instead

makes it more difficult, for it requires that the citizen give up

that which he has a right to keep.

Moreover, it is legitimate to try to have a measure modified

or rescinded when we think it is not the best. But in so doing,

we must not use means contrary to ethics, i.e., violence, lies,

corruption. Since we aim to aid the common good with our

proposed change, we must be careful that our efforts do not

bring about greater damage through reaction. Either in the

choice of men to whom we express our criticism or in our

manner of expression, we must look to the common good.

Fundamentally, it is merely the application of the same prin-

ciple which the Church applies in the case of insurrection, only

34



in a more limited field. The judgment must be made in terms

of the common good, which always must be served by the ex-

istence of the government and by each governmental decision.

It is, therefore, morally right, under any form of government

to try to modify a governmental decision. Until the decision is

modified, however, we must obey it, so long as it is not im-

moral.

What about paying taxes? Taxes are designed to give the

State the means of fulfilling its function of serving the common

good. They should not be viewed a priori with suspicion. To

pay our taxes is a serious obligation. Under present circum-

stances, when the burdens of State are so heavy, we could say

that taxes are due in justice whenever they do not deprive us

of the necessities of life.

To strengthen the State, therefore, we must resist the current

trend which justifies any means to attain the end. We must not
gloss over the rights of the individual. In short, we must trace

the limits of both the individual and the State. This is the

way to impart a solid civic education.

The second object of civic education is concerned with the

Country.

There is a Catholic doctrine on patriotism. Patriotism is not

just a blind sentiment, although it is primarily a sentiment. Like

any individual community, a Country has its own unity which

makes it a whole unto itself; but it also plays a role in a world-

wide ensemble of countries, which is greater than itself. In

attacking the unity and cohesion of a Country, therefore, we

damage the larger ensemble. Conversely, in attacking the world

ensemble, our Country suffers, no matter what temporary ad-

vantages we might gain. Different countries exist so that they

might mutually enrich one another.

This concern for the ensemble must never be forgotten. Es-

pecially today we must make certain that our renewal of pa-

triotic feelings is not based on selfish retreat. We must remem-
ber that while some countries have attained their stature, still

others are either still beginning or trying to come back to life.

Whence arises a whole series of critical problems.

While not losing our broader vision, we dare not place our-

self outside our own Country. We belong to a Country, not by
chance but by providential arrangement. Our Country leaves its

mark on us through our language, culture, and countless spon-

taneous reactions. The adolescent must be made aware of this.

It is within our Country and through it that we should work

for the whole world. Such action presupposes that our Coun-

try exists and that it be strong.

We all want a strong Country, which supposes moral dis-
ciplines, for we cannot make a strong Country with corrupted

35



individuals. Even this is not sufficient, however, for a Country

is not strong if it is not loved. Our love for the United States

is not real if it does not result in a love for all Americans, no

matter who they might be. We too frequently witness a form
of patriotism which grandly displays its admiration of the past,

but which would eliminate from the national community those

Americans whose ideas or color of skin we dislike. A concrete
love of Country requires that we know its history and its pres-

ent facets, its qualities and its weaknesses, not in order to dis-

guise them but to remedy them. If we love our country, we

want it to play a worthy role. This does not mean that we sub-

ordinate it to an ideology, but that we expect it to be faithful

to its vocation. Such an attitude is contrary to that which con-

sists in taking no further interest in our country, or even in

betraying it, if it ceases to serve the ideology which we have

adopted.

If our love should be catholic, i.e., include all peoples and

everything, how can we reconcile this with the love of our

Country? Does the latter not imply a partiality and deny the

idea of an “open society” which englobes the world and which

Christianity is always trying to establish more completely?

First of all, the Church makes love of country a virtue and

a duty. We need no longer establish that patriotism is compati-
ble with a universal love. But we do need to understand better

their compatibility. An accord between love of country and a
universal love is only a particular aspect of the accord between

universal love and individual bonds. If, for example, love of

family does not prevent us from loving all men, why should

love of country be an obstacle? Our deepest friendships are

different from each other, and this does not mean “more or

less” but different. If a country has its own personality which

can be only understood by one who lives in communion with

it, then our love for it will have its own tonality. There is a

love for America which is qualitatively irreducible to our love

for our family or for humanity, or to the love which we should

have for other countries. Not to love our Country with an

unique love is to go counter to the reality willed by God. It is

to make unreal the charity which reaches out to each being

according to his nature. Christian universalism has nothing in

common with cosmopolitanism or with an abstract humanitari-

anism, which would strip individuals of their differences.

We sometimes ask ourselves why we should love one country
instead of another. The question arises because we somehow

consider ourselves unattached. We forget that we are born,
grow up in a concrete framework, not by chance but because

of God’s will. We are marked in the innermost part of our
spiritual being by belonging to our Country. If we are indiffer-

36



ent to our Country, if we refuse to serve it, we repudiate the

debt we owe it. Our revolt is in fact implemented by the very

things we have received from our Country. We can break our
bonds, but we cannot remove the imprint of our Country

upon us.

True, a missionary ceases to work for his Country in order

to answer the call of a higher vocation. He does not seek to

increase the power or influence of the foreign country, but to

further the Kingdom of God. This is similar to a religious

ceasing to work for his family. Except in the case of an excep-

tional vocation, we owe our duty first to our Country. While

charity is universal, there is a priority to be observed in ex-

pressing it.

If we understand well what we owe our Country, we see that

it is not a question of limitation, but rather one of order.

Countries exist for what they should give to humanity and for

mutual enrichment. To serve one’s Country means to fulfill

its end. If we defend its existence, its material interests, its

reputation, its prestige, we do so because these are necessary

or useful to our Country in fulfilling its mission. We also have
the duty of holding our Country to its true vocation, should

it ever stray from it.

A Country must live and protect itself from dangers to the
exercise of its influence. If it is to shine forth, it must have

cultural, spiritual and moral capital. In fulfilling our duties to

it, we help assure all this, each in our own way. Only a pagan

love of country is contrary to universal love. Christian service

to our Country is at the same time service to all humanity, and

most often, it is the most concrete way of serving all humanity.

Our Country, to which we are bound by many more ties than

we sometimes think, should not appear to us as an instrument

at the service of some cause, but as a person having a private

and inner life. We love it with a love unique in nature, but we
want it to be faithful to its human and Christian vocation.

37



CHAPTER VII

The Use of Force

force is an energy which manifests itself in tangible results. On
the purely physical plane, forces are at work in the material

world, and even within man himself, without which he could

not have an effect on the world.

Man’s action on the world, however, is not proportionate to

his physical force, for unlike the inanimate world, man has an

intelligence by which he can dominate and utilize immense

physical forces. Influence, cleverness, the gift of persuasion

make it possible for man to manipulate the force of another

man or of a group.

Man himself is above nature, not only because he can know
the play of forces at work in the world, but also because he

can judge them and intervene in them. Without this, civilization

could not have begun and humanity could not have developed.

Whenever man becomes the plaything of the forces which act

upon him, either within or without, he loses his awareness of

what distinguishes him from them. He tends to forget what

he is.

Force itself is only an instrument. It is evil when it is used

for egoism, hatred or pride. The exercise of force should never

become an end in itself. The “will for power,” for example, is

an evil force, for it is basically at the service of egoism. It

consists of an enjoyment of the exercise of force, no matter

how lofty the objective. Force, on the contrary, should always

be subordinate to the aim which is sought through its use.

The aim gives force a moral value.

The use of force, therefore, should be governed by rules.

Force must always respect individual rights, even when it is

used to obtain a good and desirable result. No aim can justify

a discounting of a real right, whether we deal with brute physi-

cal force or the force of intelligence, cleverness or persuasion.

Force cannot be used to gain a consent which is not freely

given.

Force, furthermore, should defend rights when they are vio-

lated by another force. Any manipulator of force who allows

rights to be abridged without remedying the situation becomes

an accomplice to the oppression. The use of force against an-

other unjust force is a duty, albeit at times fraught with the

38



temptation of going beyond the point of re-establishing justice.

Nonetheless, the temptation does not eliminate the duty.

Another force, manifesting itself as “energy,” is the self-

mastery or endurance in face of obstacles. The strong man gives

himself entirely to his work, to the pursuit of his goal, whereas

the weak man lacks such a unification or concentration of his

energies. He is divided.

True force must be distinguished from passion. Both unify

and concentrate energies, but passion drains one of man’s

energies for the sake of a tendency, an attraction to which he

is subjected and which is not of his own choosing. The passion-

ate person is a slave to his passions; he is carried along by

them, whereas the strong man utilizes all the energy expended

in his passion, always remaining the master of it. True force

has a sense of direction; passion lacks one.

Force does not mean violence to oneself. Violence against

oneself is a burst of passion which indicates weakness. A person
cannot withstand his deficiencies and weakness; he is irritated

by them. He is not patient in the face of inner conflicts, but

wants to smash them. In the struggle against deficiencies, force

does not exclude but implies patience with oneself, which is

something quite different from inertia or submission to one’s

faults. We must be able to take ourselves as we are, then little
by little master ourselves, use methods which require time,

practice, patience, in order to improve ourselves.

There are not different virtues for the strong and for the

weak. Properly understood, all virtues require force. Virtues

practiced as a refuge for the weak would be a caricature of

true virtues. For example, an obedience incapable of initiative,

a humility incapable of responsibility, both show that our force

is incomplete. To lack obedience when it is necessary, to lack

humility, is to lack force. It is also to lack the courage to sub-

mit to the goal we seek. It is to prefer our whims or ego.

When we revolt we reveal weakness. Instead of accepting the

situation and transforming it as soon as possible, instead of

making it the basis for action, of enduring it insofar as it can-

not be changed, we yield to the desire for revolt. When faced
with a task which is too large for us, we fall into a disorderly

and unfruitful agitation. The strong man does not waste his

energy revolting. He uses his energy to fulfill his tasks under
those circumstances in which he finds himself.

Finally, we must see the role of force in love. True love is

not a weak man’s feeling. It is not a satisfaction with every-

thing in the beloved, nor a refusal to make the beloved suffer.

Force in love seeks the good of the beloved; therefore, his

grandeur and perfection. It accepts nothing imperfect as perma-

nent in the beloved. A forceful man will suffer when his be-

39



I

loved Suffers. In this manner let us contemplate the love of

God. True force is in reality a characteristic of love. Only

when force is rooted in love is it kept from digression. It does

not degenerate into brutality or tyranny, for love respects the

freedom of the beloved. A force rooted in love sustains free-
dom and always points to the perfection to be attained. Force

inspired by love helps us overcome obstacles, accept solitude,

and all this without violence or pride, without ceasing to be

human in the full meaning of the word.

If love is the source of force, the primary source is God.

Let us, in conclusion, compare the hero with the saint. There

is no less force in one than in the other, but the saint knows

that his force has been received from without, that it is de-

rived from a divine force, to which he opens his heart. The

saint who has all the virility and maturity of a man remains

nonetheless a child before God.

Christian Force

There is a Christian force.

Because he is clear-sighted, the strong soul demands the same

of others that he demands of himself. He knows no com-

placency in face of their weaknesses, imperfections, blindness.

He does not despair of leading others to total perfection nor

does he abandon them half way. Such a force is not expressed

through indiscretion; it is not a brutality which strikes in haste,

rushes ahead of the call of grace in the divine soul. Impatience

and haste, even when they seek to serve the highest ends, are

signs of weakness. Christian force is calm and serene but im-

placable.

The source of Christian force is love. More precisely, force

is only one of love’s qualities. Love alone is capable of unify-

ing our soul and concentrating our energies in the service of

God. It alone can give us that energy which is neither un-

bending nor violent and which obtains from others everything

God asks of them. Not without reason is Christian force con-

sidered a gift of the Spirit of love.

The strong soul looks clearly both at himself and at the

world, unafraid of the work required to bring everything into

accord with the Christian ideal. He does not fear labor, either

to tear down when the situation requires or to rebuild accord-

ing to new plans. The strong soul calls a spade a spade, fear-

ing neither the contradictions encountered by Christian daring

nor the solitude of those who wish to go too far. He does not

try to give a Christian coating to inner tendencies, ways of

living, institutions which, because they are contrary to the

Christian spirit, are incapable of any deep Christianization. The

40



clearness of our vision depends on the force of our soul. “Be

ye therefore simple as doves,” Our Lord said. We must not
cheat with reality, but look at it squarely. What are our opin-

ions and our attitudes? What is the world around us?

Heroic Requirements of Christianity

Some accuse Christianity of being a school of weakness and

of having de-civilized man. While this is calumny, we must

not, in rejecting it, present Christianity as a purely human

heroism, an effort of the will.

Christianity, properly understood, is not a consolation for

weak souls who lack the courage to look reality in the face.

Far from nurturing souls with consoling illusions, Christianity

asks them to realize their true situation and the situation of

the world. It requires that we face the fundamental choice

in the drama of every life—the tragic choice between salva-
tion and total loss. Christianity does not hide the suffering

which is in the world nor the trials which fall upon those who

trust most in God. The certainty given by faith, and by faith

alone, that these trials can always turn into a final good, does

not stop us from feeling, as Christ did, anxiety even unto

agony. A view of the universe in which the Cross of Christ
stands is not at all a pleasant scene on which to rest tired

eyes.

Christianity is not a call to a life of ease, an organization

for spiritual comfort. It demands that every man live as a son

of God, a witness to Christ. It calls him to uplift himself to

his highest grandeur and not to trample in satisfied mediocrity.

It asks him to outdo himself constantly, for to be perfect even

as our heavenly Father is perfect, we must always climb higher;

we must always tear ourselves from the forces which pull us

down.

More co*ncretely, our upward climb demands a complete

break with sin. Sin pulls us down, decreases us, tears us apart,

no matter what the appearances are. The Christian cannot

compromise, either in the social order or in the personal order,

with anything that is the consequence of sin, the result of sin,

the expression of sin. To be faithful to this requirement, how

much courage is needed in a world which has so many in-

stitutions, traditions, customs and manners based on complicity

with sin! If one is to have the courage to face the opposition

brought about by the necessary breaks with sin, he certainly

cannot lack virility.

Christianity asks constant courage of us. It is not a question

of straining ourselves in a violent action at certain moments,

then yielding at other moments to what appeals to us, to our

41



instincts and passions. At every instant we must strive to go

higher. Few things are more difficult for us than this con-
sistency of effort, this universality of effort which prevents us

from compensating in some areas for what we sacrifice in

others.

Christianity does not only ask for the spectacular effort, the

effort which others see, in which we are sustained by what they

will think; but also for the secret effort which is not seen by men,

the struggle against inner weaknesses and mediocrities, against

what harms the very intentions which determine our acts. Does

not the courage which God alone will see, does not this constant

uprightness of conduct require a rather rare quality of energy?

Christianity asks an effort which is applied to all the vir-

tues. Nothing is more natural for us than to choose the virtues

we want to practice. Our choice is determined either by our

natural bents or by our temperaments, or by the judgments of

our times and our group. This deficiency, which excludes part

of what we should strive towards because it seems difficult or

because we have less exterior stimulation, will always exist.

Yet a Christian should practice not only varied virtues, but

also those virtues which seem opposed. A difficult equilibrium
must be achieved because if the virtues are isolated, separated

from their complements, they harden or soften, lose their value,

cease to be virtues. We must be kind without ceasing to be
energetic, patient without lacking initiative; we must have a

taste for action without losing our love for prayer.

42



CHAPTER VIII

Anti-Semitism

let us first of all discuss that form of anti-Semitism which

affirms that the Jewish people have brought into the world,

from all times, something harmful to humanity. Christianity

wholly rejects this.

The most illustrious representative of this form undoubt-

edly is Nietzsche. His criticism of Christianity, of the Chris-

tion moral ideal, is well known. He calls it slave morality, an

ideal for the weak, contrary to an heroic morality. According

to Nietzsche, the Christian canonizes kindness, pity, humility,

love; he fears those virtues which promise domination; he can

live only in a world in which the strong virtues are not

allowed; and he tries to make the strong believe that they have

no right to use force; thus does the Christian disarm those

against whom he does not have the courage to struggle. Now,
Christianity derived all these ideas from Judaism. This is the

Jewish heritage in the Christian tradition. Thus, according

to Nietzsche, the Jewish spirit is poisonous for humanity; it is

a poison which must be eliminated if one desires to give vigor

and strength back to humanity.

Such anti-Semitism is unacceptable to Christianity. It strikes

at Christianity in the same way that it strikes at Judaism. The

Old Testament prepares the New Testament, which is its ful-
fillment, not abolition. The Jewish religion is a revealed re-

ligion; the Bible is the holy writ of the Church. Moral values

introduced by Israel were adopted and perfected by Christian-

ity, and not denied. In an audience with a group of Belgian

pilgrims shortly before Christmas, 1938, Pope Pius XI said:

“We are spiritually Semites.” Having just received a missal

from the pilgrims, His Holiness read the following words from

the Mass: “Supra quae propitio ac sereno vultu . . . et munera

tui Abel, et sacrificium Patriarchae nostri Abrahae.” Abraham,

the father of the Jews, is still our patriarch.

The Jewish people never created a great empire or a Code

of Law like Rome. They created no science like Greece. But

we cannot say that they were inferior from a literary point of

view: many of the passages of the Bible are master works of

universal literature. In the moral and religious realms, how-

ever, Israel appears in all its grandeur and incontestably sur-

43



passes all the other people of antiquity. One does not have

to be a Christian to sense this grandeur; he need only have an

ideal of justice and of generosity, a mind which is not closed

to the moral sense.

This religious ideal, which was especially expressed during

the great age of the prophets; this ideal of a religion which

does not consist in exterior rites, but is founded on real rela-

tionships with God, which requires justice and mercy in our

relations with others, which condemns social iniquity, the op-

pression of the poor by the rich (not from the point of view

of a human ideal but from a religious point of view, for the

God of Israel is holy; sin cannot be tolerated among His peo-

ple; if the people persist in sin, they will be chastised and de-

stroyed)—all of this represents something which has no equiv-
alent in any other people of antiquity. For any man in whose

eyes justice and morality are not vain words, who does not

judge the importance of a people only by its material power,

Israel is a great nation, whose civilizing influence was consider-

able.

Some speak of the “Greek miracle,” and the term is too

strong. Let us not forget the Jewish miracle, which is a miracle

in the true sense of the term. The contribution of the Jewish

people is not a simple relic of the past. Even non-believers

recognize the great role of Christian influence in our present

civilization; but let us remember that the great geniuses who

have given our civilization its spiritual principles were nur-

tured by the Bible. For example, St. Augustine, and for that

matter, all the Fathers of the Church, who developed Christian

thought, drew upon the Old Testament. Thus the present

world lives much more by Judaism than it thinks.

Certainly our way of looking at concrete Jewish problems

would be different if we had an exact idea of what the Jewish

people has been. We must change the atmosphere of blind
passion in which Jewish problems are generally posed. It is

impossible for Christians not to experience for the Jewish peo-

ple that same painful feeling which we always have in the

presence of an unfaithful brother whose return to the fold we

desire and await. Nothing is less Christian than a self-satisfied

sneer at the sight of a Jew whose mind is closed to Christ.

Because the Jewish people were the object of a divine eleva-

tion and a divine choice, because they are destined to return

to God some day as a whole people, they should be an object

of Christian respect, in spite of their fundamental error in

refusing Christ and in spite of whatever mistakes they may

have since made. Nothing is less Christian than a feeling of

scorn or of hatred of this people, who have a particular right

to Christian respect. Any problem involving the Jewish race

44



has by that very fact a serious and painful nature for the

Christian.

Vulgar anti-Semitism

If we consider once again a vulgar anti-Semitism, by which

we understand a hatred of the Jews, a tendency to hold them

responsible, in a vague way and often exclusively so, for a host

of evils, a desire to cast them out of national society, then we

shall understand how anti-Christian this kind of anti-Semitism

really is. The presence of Jews within a given country may

create a problem, but a Christian may never study this prob-

lem with an anti-Semitic mentality. Any man, as a matter of

fact, who has a feel for humanity, will have a natural friend-

ship for anyone possessing a human soul.

There exists in every man, even in the civilized man, a tend-

ency towards violence and the use of brute force, a taste for

destruction, and even a certain instinctive cruelty (very vis-

ible in the way a neglected child left to his own devices treats

animals). Ordinarily, these tendencies are restrained and in-

hibited by religious and moral education, which not only con-

siders their expression as sins, but endeavors to develop the

opposite feelings. They are also inhibited by the fear of legal

punishment, the disapproval of public opinion, which punishes

or stigmatizes violence. We must not minimize the importance
of these factors, which .act as a necessary safety stop.

Collective excitement against a particular class of men, when

it takes on a certain intensity, awakens these instincts; and

when it is thought that law or public opinion no longer pro-

tect the class of men under public attack, violence and cruelty

break out. We need only observe the example of the liquida-
tions in Russia. Let us not speak here of the atrocious injus-

tices committed against the victims, but only of the demoraliza-

tion which infects those who allow themselves to commit

them.

Anti-Semitism is allegedly unleashed in the name of the

common good, but its end result is corruption, the abasement

of those who are a part of it, because the lowest and most im-

moral instincts, those most contrary to human life in society,

triumph. Let us also remark that not only those who are

actively engaged in the brutalities are debased. Many who are

not actively engaged, either because of fear of physical action

or because of a more refined education, are also debased by

what they read, see, say or feel. Underlying all these verbal

violences is the satisfaction of very low, inhuman and anti-

Christian instincts, a satisfaction which is sufficiently refined

and sublimated not to be too shocking. But the person none-

45



theless is poisoned inwardly. We must rid ourselves of such a
state of mind, if we sincerely desire to study the Jewish prob-

lem as reasonable men and as Christians.

Nature of the Jewish Problem

Quite apart from any anti-Semitism, we can ask ourselves

if there is really a Jewish problem? Does the presence of Jews

scattered throughout all different countries pose a problem?

And cannot public interest, considered in all fairness, quite

apart from any spirit of scorn, vengeance or hatred, require

certain measures concerning the Jews? Let us see how each

question is posed for the Christian.

If we look at the matter as a whole, we must first recognize

that there is a Jewish problem. A real “Jewish community”
exists. That is, except for a few individual exceptions, the Jews

are more or less conscious of the ties which unite them to-

gether—those of one nation with those of other nations. They
do not constitute a race in the biological sense, however

(many of them are Aryans), nor a nation, nor a people. Their

case is special. Not even religion forms their bond. Their bond

is of the spiritual order. Never able to group itself together,

not even under a common oppressor, but nevertheless never

dissolved, this Jewish community has a unique character. It

presents a case without analogy. There is no human group

which has resisted total assimilation *or disappearance as a

unity under such conditions as the Jews have, and this prob-

ably defies any natural explanation.

The trait of persistence in the Jewish community, in spite

of dispersion and even in spite of the incorporation of various

Jewish groups in other nations, makes Israel “a thorn in the

flesh of the nations.” Hence, the inevitable feeling of uneas-

iness. The weakness of the Jews, especially when favorable cir-

cumstances flatter them, changes the uneasiness into suspicion,

then into hostility. This latter is then exploited by the profes-

sional advocates of anti-Semitism.

We must guard ourselves. The feeling of the existence of a
Jewish community, while it may lead the Jews to excesses, is

not evil in itself. It is based on something real, and we have

no right to require that it disappear. The state, however, the

guardian of public interest, has the right to watch it, so that

the feeling does not become harmful to the country. The duty

of vigilance is not equivalent to a right of preventive repres-

sion. When there is reason to fear abuses, the state must exer-

cise special vigilance over the Jewish community, just as it

must over national minorities, large associations, international

cartels, etc.

46



This international “community” formed by the Jews is the

deep reason why there is distrust of them on the part of the-

orists of nationalism, those who favor closed and delimited

states, merely juxtaposed one to another. The existence of

Israel upsets all the frameworks. By its very presence, one

feels that humanity cannot be sealed off into air-tight com-

partments, into groups which communicate with others only ex-

teriorly.

It may be said with good reason that the Catholic Church

poses a similar problem. While there is a tendency to national-

ize the Church, the Church has a less disturbing nature, be-

cause she is more tangible. She is visible, an organized so-
'

ciety; she has a hierarchy which directs her and with which one

can deal. She has a precise doctrine on the duties of Catholics

towards her and towards the state. The Jews lack all this. They

are an unique phenomenon, and that is why the problem of

what attitude to take towards them arises. The very nature of

the problem denies the validity of the solutions suggested by

anti-Semitism.

Christian Approach to the Jewish Problem

Practically speaking, there is not so much a Jewish problem

as various Jewish problems. In different countries, the number

of Jews, their history, proportion of population, exercise of

leadership vary. Each case has different data. Nor should we

confuse the Jewish problem with the alien problem. The prob-

lem involving the foreign Jews must of itself be solved by

Christians. But there are American Jews, for example, who are

subject to all the burdens of American citizenship. Here we

must ask by what right can we refuse them what is granted to

all other citizens, so long as they have not proven themselves

personally unworthy?

We also must avoid the sophism of beginning with a list of
real damages caused by Jews guilty of misdemeanors, then

proceeding to propose general measures against a whole cate-

gory of persons, guilty or not guilty. For example, some people

use Jewish favoritism as an argument to exclude all Jews

from certain offices. But the Jew is not the only one who prac-

tices favoritism. We must outlaw favoritism of all kinds.
Some complain about the pernicious role played by certain

large Jewish banks. If we exclude the Jews from financial life,

do we think we will solve the problems of capitalism? Would

not the non-Jews carry on the work? Rather, we are obliged

to attack capitalistic usury itself. Such an undertaking undoubt-

edly involves a whole economic and financial structure. Instead

of striking will-nilly at both the guilty and the innocent Jews,

47



while ignoring the guilty non-Jews, let us prosecute all the

guilty parties.

Some people advance the theory that the Jewish spirit is a

dissolving factor. They claim an incompatibility between the

Jew, who is an oriental, and the Western man. For proof, they

cite the large number of Jews in revolutionary parties. Let us

note, first of all, that the fact that the “conservative” party

often is anti-Semitic very naturally drives many Jews into op-

posing parties. We would be naïve to be surprised at this.
Having said this much, we must next ask, “Exactly what in our

civilization does the Jewish spirit dissolve?” We err in setting
forth all the ideas and institutions which constitute what is

often arbitrarily called “Western Civilization” as models which

merit only admiration and respect, without any discrimination.

This would be an over-simplification.

Good minds, not at all anti-Semitic, think that the influence

of Israel, all due allowances being made for exceptions, is

pointed in a specific direction. They assign reasons which are

not so much racial as religious, derived from the fact that

Israel was God’s chosen people and they refused Him. We may
also think that Israel’s Messianism, once having been secular-

ized and temporalized, has created a tendency towards un-

easiness among the Jewish people, an instability, a drive

towards something constantly different, which therefore dis-

poses them towards reform and revolution. Just as the Roman,

the Latin, had a natural bent towards law and legal systems,

so the Jew might have had a bent towards revolution. But we

must not jump to the conclusion that such a tendency must

therefore be rooted out through violence.

These people argue that Karl Marx, the founder of Marxism,

from which stems the most powerful revolutionary movement

in existence, was a Jew. Certainly, he was, but let us leave aside

the possible objection that it still must be proved that Marx

created Marxism because he was a Jew. Rather, let us see

in his work the effect of a temporalized Messianism. Can we

say that the regime against which Marx protested did not de-

serve protest and did not need change? Even if Karl Marx went

too far, even if he created a counter-Capitalism, would he

have fallen to such excesses had not the abuses of the cap-

italistic system provoked him? Furthermore, it would not be

too difficult to show that Marx uses his adversary’s weapons in

the attack. Economic materialism was posited by Liberalism

long before it was postulated by Marx. Wtihout the social in-

justices and the false ideologies which Marx encountered,

Marxism might never have existed. At any rate, it would not

have been successful. Furthermore, if Marxism has conquered

large masses of people, if it has become a powerful revolu-

48



tionary movement, rather than remain an ineffective ideology,

it certainly would be a gross over-simplification to blame Jew-

ish intrigues, as some people would do.

Can we not hold that the presence of individuals with revo-

lutionary tendencies might have a simple and beneficial effect

of a stimulant for the whole social body by preventing it from

going to sleep and forcing it to think of new progress? Those

who dream of a static society will not understand this. But

those who desire constant progress toward higher ideals will

understand the utility of such a stimulant, such a goad. If

society would eliminate the conditions which breed revolution,

it would need not fear the presence of individual revolution-

ary tendencies and it would not be obliged to suppress them in

order to save itself.

Can We Eliminate the Jewish Problem?

Is there another way to eliminate the Jewish problem? Let

us not talk about the rebuilding of the Jewish State in Pales-

tine, which at best is only a partial solution. In the nineteenth

century, many “liberal” minds approved granting the Jews the

same rights as all other citizens. They thought that the special

problem of the Jews came only from the fact that they had

been isolated, set apart from the others. Treated the same as

the others, the Jews would become like the others and be

entirely assimilated in the country in which they lived, with

the result that the feeling of racial solidarity would disappear.

In other words, the Jews are like the others. If they are treated

like the others, the Jewish problem will disappear.

Experience does not seem to confirm this view. Moreover,

many Jews protest against the idea that they “are like the

others” and that they should be completely assimilated. They

do not contest that they should be loyal towards the country

in which they live, but they do not think they should forego

the feeling of their Jewish community and their mission. Now,

some Christians, who are not at all anti-Semitic, do not agree

with the assimilation answer to the Jewish problem. They view

it as a misunderstanding which comes from eliminating the

religious element from history.

Israel is the chosen people who refused to recognize Christ

and is now bearing the punishment for its sin. (This does not

give one the right to persecute these people, since this is a

matter of Divine punishment. We are not able to judge in ad-
vance the value of a Jew as an individual.) Condemned to a

tragic situation, unable to die as a people or as a community

(unable to lose the feeling for its existence as community) and

unable to be united (thus cease to suffer from dispersion), the

49



Jewish people are consigned to life among others, without be-

coming like them. The Jewish people are, as it were, the vis-

ible mark of God’s intervention in history. This is a painful sit-

uation for the Jews and somewhat difficult for the others. They

will always be the thorn in the flesh of nations.

Yet even this can be turned into a benefit for the world.

Israel is one of the elements which prevents the world from

going to sleep in a stable situation. The punishment of Israel

is not a complete and final malediction, since, as St. Paul

teaches (Rom. 9), Israel has not lost all its role in the divine

plan.

The presence of Israel among the nations is not, therefore, a

human problem but rather a divine mystery. It is impossible to

find a solution to this mystery which would suppress Israel

We can only find partial and provisional arrangements, in ac-
cord with time and place, to prevent the resultant difficulties

from harming a higher common good. Anything done under

the influence of anti-Semitism will fail. We must act in the
spirit of universal charity. As in all else, the common good

must be alone considered, not the satisfaction of grudges and

prejudices. We have no right to use unjust means for a good
result. We must revolt against everything that hurts man, who-
ever he may be.

50



CHAPTER IX

The Christian and

Temporal Affairs

in ancient society, religion and the city-state were closely

united; we could say they were one, for the city-state had a

religious character, while religion had a political character. Ir-

réligion, therefore, was a crime. A person belonged to a cult
just as he belonged to a state. No church was necessary, for
the state regulated public worship. Conflict, therefore, between

church and state, between the spiritual needs of the individual

and the requirements of the state, was impossible.

Without a doubt, whatever hold the state had on the indi-

vidual, a certain small margin of his life escaped that hold.

Into that fraction of life, there entered, not a personal religion,

as we say today, but rather a religion which allowed for private,

individual and family preoccuaptions and interests.

Towards the beginning of the Christian era, this phenome-

non became more widespread. Some sought in the mystic re-

ligions current at that time the guarantee of a personal salva-

tion, of immortality. By that time, the religion of the city-state

no longer satisfied man’s spiritual needs. Nevertheless, a re-

ligious organization as such, which could oppose its rights to

those rights of the state, had never been accepted.

Neither was the temporal and the religious element ever

separated among the Jews, although here the fusion had alto-

gether different consequences: the religious power absorbed

the political. This is because the chosen people were wholly

defined by their function to prepare the coming of Christ.

Properly speaking, the Jews had no temporal destiny, but in-

stead served God’s plan for humanity. Political authority was

entirely subordinated to religious authority. It was theocracy.

(The pagan city-state, in which the political absorbed the re-

ligious element, where religion was subservient to the human

aims of the state, was not theocratic).

Nonetheless, the greater part of the Jewish nation was far

from always understanding its divine mission. It dreamed of

political grandeur and saw in its religion the pledge of su-

premacy on the human level. The Bible testifies to the long

struggle between those who diverted the Jewish people from

51



their vocation and those who wished to bring them back to

their true vocation. But the task of the Jewish nation was not

to distinguish between church and state, temporal and religious

orders, anymore than it was the task of the pagan times. Chris-

tianity introduced the distinction.

Jesus Christ came to affirm the transcendent character of

religion, which must never be bent to the service of human

aims; and Christ founded a Church which would have charge

of the religious life. Rejecting past errors and putting an end

to the provisional forms of government of the Old Testament,

Christ established the relationship of Church and state. His

attitude is expressed in the oft-quoted answer, “Render to

Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things

that are God’s.” There exists, thus, an order in which Caesar,

that is to say human authority, has the right to command and

exact obedience. But Caesar is not God, and all mankind does

not depend on Caesar. Let us be on guard not to give Christ’s

phrase a false interpretation.

Let us make no inference from it of an absolute separation

of the two orders, which allows no connections between them.

To so understand the separation would be to err, since God

is not to be placed side by side with Caesar. The religious order

and the temporal order, therefore, could not be simply co-

ordinated as two distinct fields in which two different author-

ities exert their power without interposing on each other’s

domain. That indeed is the situation of Caesar before God,

but not of God confronting Caesar.

To understand the relationship, we must go back further.

We must consider the connection of religious activity to tem-
poral activity, in order to see of what the intervention of the

Church into that temporal activity consists.

Mankind was created for a supernatural end, which is the

possession of God in love. Humanity did not choose this end,

nor can humanity attain it on its own. The end can be at-

tained only with the gratuitous aid of God, which we call

grace. This presupposes that we have received a revelation of

the destination to which God has called us, of the distance

separating us from it (our state of imperfection), and of the

means which God has given us to make the pilgrimage pos-

sible. The end also presupposes a teaching on the means of

going to God and of being united with Him (Christian moral-

ity) and a teaching on the means of acquiring the life of

grace and sustaining it within us (sacraments and worship).

These different ways of knowing do not come to each of us

by an interior revelation; they come to us through Jesus

Christ. But what Jesus has revealed, He did not entrust to a

text to which we would refer as a last resort, leaving us the



task of organizing our religious life by ourselves, individually

or in groups. He founded a Church wherein He still lives, and

which counsels and guides us in view of our supernatural end.

Mankind’s supernatural vocation, however, does not destroy

natural life. Baptism, which implants the seed of divine life

in us, does not transport us into another world. Man remains
prey to impervious material needs. Besides, man’s intelligence

goes beyond the boundary of the immediate. He is not limited

like the animal to what concerns the maintenance of indi-

vidual life and the preservation of the species. He feels again

and again positive attractions: search for truth, beauty, social

relations beyond those dictated by necessity. Thus, the whole

order of culture and civilization is constituted. All of that, let

us note, is incorporated in the plan of God. For God has

created a world, unfinished, subject to change; He has created

man, endowed with intelligence and a will, who is capable of

acting on this world. The man created by God is equal to or

is progressively becoming equal to the forces he mpst manip-

ulate; he will, as it were, create a new world added to the one

he received from God.

We see, then, that there is an entirely temporal order, which
is not the eternal order; an entirely secular order which is not

the religious order. The Church is not charged with con-

structing the temporal order. Does it follow, then, that she has

nothing to say about it? This would be too hasty a conclusion.

The Church governs the Christian directly. But, as we have

said before, the Christian remains human. He is the same being /
who leads a supernatural me and at the Same time a human

#

life, and, if one may so speak, by means of the same instru-

ments. Faith does not have as its end the attainment of scien-

tific knowledge, which only reason can acquire, but it never-

theless implies an element of knowledge. It is the same will

that loves God and proposes to itself human ends. It is im-

possible to lead a Christian life and a human life at the same

time without some interrelationships.

We want to see the principal points of contact between the
two activities, Christian and temporal, and exactly how they

justify the intervention of the Church in the temporal order. We
will find a parallel in the points of contact between Church

and state.

First of all, we must preserve Christian life from the danger

of being completely absorbed in temporal activity. The Church

will here intervene to recall for us that while it is legitimate

to work for the conquest of the world, mankind, nevertheless,

will find its perfection and stability only in the hereafter. The

Church will invite man to remember that he is not simply an

incomplete being developing in the world, but also a sinful

53

jJ~*y

'fbs*



being who must purify himself. This statement is not without

consequences in Christian asceticism. The “question of sin”

provokes the intervention of the Church.

Our temporal activity (industrial, diplomatic, family, ath-

letic, etc.) is a free activity, in which we determine both ends

and means. By that fact, it belongs to the sphere of morality;

the laws of God must be observed, for God does not permit us

to advance towards Him through disobedience. Family life,
economic activities, national and international relations are nat-

ural activities, not directly religious, but they always have

repercussions in the religious life of the one who participates

in them. Thus, in the concrete, they cannot be separated from

the religious order.

Inasmuch as the Church is the mistress of religious life, she

is supposed to instruct us with the requirements for the pres-

ervation of our religious life. She will tell us, then, what is sin-

ful in the exercise of temporal activities. She will forbid cer-

tain acts of the temporal order, for example, certain ways of

leading family life, certain business or banking practices, cer-

tain aesthetic practices, etc. Theft, dueling, divorce, steriliza-

tion, abortion are acts placed in the order of temporal activity,

but because they are sinful and destroy supernatural life, the

Church forbids them.

Temporal and religious life also contact each other in the

sphere of natural learning. Natural truth is dependent on the

intelligence. The Church does not teach natural truth; she has

not been instituted for that purpose. The intelligence, however,

is fallible; it can be mistaken in whatever comes within its

province. The Church has no call to rectify it. She neither can

nor wishes to do so, for she is no specialist in the field. Al-

though infallible in matters of faith and morals, the Pope is

left to his own resources in all questions which involve human

knowledge. But it can happen that the intelligence, mistaken

with regard to its proper limits, presumes to solve a question

regarding faith. The Church will then intervene, because she

knows that she must teach what she alone can teach. Then she

will say, “You have ventured on a ground where you are in-

competent, because that ground belongs to the Church.”

There is another area where the Church must intervene. Cer-

tain truths of the natural order are at the same time the neces-

sary basis of truths of the supernatural order. If one denies

them, religion disintegrates. For example, the reality of the

soul, the historical existence of Jesus Christ. The Church

defends these in order to protect the truth over which she has

direct custody. Notice, she does not undertake a refutation of

the arguments which those who deny these truths use. Leaving

that task to individual initiatives, she simply says: “Such an

54



affirmation cannot be true because it compromises the truth of

which I am the trustee.” Here we see that the Church makes

no encroachments on the terrain where she has no competence,

but she places in security that which is confided to her.

* * *

Granting that man is an imperfect being, there are social

situations which offer conditions favorable or unfavorable to re-

ligious life. Without a doubt, it is possible to live a true Chris-

tian life in all types of society. Nothing can impede him who

is determined to be a martyr. For the “perfect” every obstacle

becomes a means. But the ordinary man doesn’t usually rise

above obstacles. Leo XIII recalled in his Rerum Novarum that

a certain well-being is the normal condition for the practice of

religion and virtue; like misery, great wealth is a danger. The

Church has often repeated this theme.

Similarly, either the absence of sanctions or, on the other

hand, too severe an authority in the state, professions, or

family frequently leads to sin. Although these are elements

of the temporal order, they have grave repercussions in the

religious order. There is, then, a Christian duty to remedy these

evils, according to our capacity. It belongs to the Church to

remind us of this duty. She may never permit us to forget that

the temporal order must not disturb the supernatural order,

because the purpose of the world is the supernatural end of

humanity. The temporal order must serve the supernatural

order.

Because the Church knows the end of man, what his nature

is, how and in what way he is tainted by sin, she must tell man

what favorable conditions he must seek in the temporal order

and she must trace their principal traits. For example, the

encyclicals of Leo XIII and Pius XI do precisely this in regard

to the social order. But in so acting, the Church does not fix

by authority the concrete means of achieving favorable condi-

tions under present circumstances. She does not possess special

insights regarding these means of a technical nature. Enlight-

ened by the Church on the goals to be attained, the Christian

must study the ends and take the initiative in reaching them.

The Christian must seek to the last detail a satisfactory polit-

ical, juridical and economic organization. Opinions may differ

in the evaluation of variable factual data, but the goal is the

same: to bring about a state of affairs favorable to the de-

velopment of religious life, that is to say, above all the human

development. Without being guided step by step in all his

actions by the Church’s authority, the Christian must always

act as a Christian in all his temporal activities.

Between the temporal and the supernatural, there is a rela-

55



don still more intimate, because of the unity of the Divine

plan. The possession of God in heaven will be the expansion

of the life of grace which animates us here on earth. What we

do in this life, therefore, is but a rough sketch of what we

are to be someday. Now, our interior dispositions are authentic

only if they are translated into acts. We cannot tolerate within
ourselves contradictory dispositions which would inspire, on

the plane of activity, an opposite line of conduct. Grace, there-

fore, which is in our souls, must inspire our entire life. We
must do nothing contrary to its nature; grace must harmonize

everything within us.

Grace is the possession of charity, that is, an indissoluble

love of God and our neighbor; and life in heaven, where grace

is expanded, will be at one and the same time union with God

and union among men. We should thus try, as a rule of action
in all of life, to make the earth an image as closely resembling

the celestial city as possible. This should be done, not only in

our individual life, but also in public life as well. In all its

structures, our world should be organized in such a way that

the image of the Christian ideal is reflected more perfectly.

In other words, the life of charity must dominate the life of

the world.

This is not utopian in meaning. The Christian must desire

that all human relations and the institutions which express them

reveal the greatest possible charity. So long as violence and in-

justice exist (that is, until the end of time), charity will re-

quire the use of force and restraint to protect rights that are

menaced and to defend victims. We can neither permit the
unjust and the violent to triumph, nor anarchy to rule. In cer-

tain cases, charity requires resistence to evil and punishment

of the wicked. The Church never makes light of justice. In-

stead of resigning himself to a given state of affairs, the Chris-

tian will always try to introduce more charity into the world.

He does not know how successful he will be, but he is duty-

bound to work in that direction.

We could say the same thing by starting with the ideal of
friendship, or better still, with the idea of communion which

Our Lord conceived for His disciples—that they be one. Chris-
tians are not to unite only at certain times but rather in their

whole life: and all organizations and all institutions which con-

cern Christians must make this communion possible and pro-

mote it. This does not imply the abolition of any kind of

hierarchy, for nothing is less “one” than a multitude with un-

controlled interests. It implies only that a Christian does not

give a definitive value to any particular temporal order. He

questions it, not in a spirit of anarchy, but in order to adapt it

better for the goal of communion. An institution which, under

56



certain circumstances might have been indispensable, could be-

come under different circumstances an obstacle to communion.

What, then, will be the intervention of the Church at this

point? She recalls to us the law of charity, but she does not

apply it to our life in a detailed way. This depends on too many

points of fact which are not within her competency. Christians

have to seek their own ways of placing charity at the service of

the world. Everything which is not intrinsically evil—science,
culture, industry, politics, etc.—must work towards the idea
of communion in the world.

Christianity, therefore, should penetrate all temporal activ-

ity. It should orient our whole life. “Whether you eat, whether

you drink, do all for the glory of God.” This is the triumph of

charity. A Christian, therefore, has not fulfilled his Christian
duty once he has observed all the prohibitions or met all the

prescriptions of the Church. He must work, according to his

reason and strength, to bring about on the temporal plane the

ideal of charity and community, the knowledge of which he

has received from the Church.

57



CHAPTER X

Church and State

the relationship of Church and State, a particular relation-

ship of the spiritual and temporal orders, is all the more deli-

cate because both powers have in one respect the same end,

which is to bring to man the possession of God in love.

By State we mean a political power and authority bound up

with the existence of a political society. Because it is above

them, the State encompasses the family society, economic so-

cieties, regional societies, and all the others. It organizes all of

them into a whole. As a natural and necessary society, the

State is not something arbitrary, conventional or even op-

tional. It corresponds with God’s intention for humanity. It has,

therefore, a value in the eyes of the Christian.

As we shall see in more detail, the State is of the temporal

and human order, not of the religious and supernatural order,

although it is a necessary condition for mankind’s progress

towards its eternal destiny. If this were not so, the State would

be of no interest to the Christian.

On the one hand, Christianity teaches that the end of man-

kind does not lie in the organization of an order which finds

its completion in this world. On the other hand, Christianity

does not want man to think that he can possess God only by

despising the temporal order and humanity. It does not ask

man to be concerned exclusively in this life with his interior

perfection, as though the development of humanity had no

worth in the eyes of God. Mankind must tend towards God,

Who will be attained only in the next life, and to attain God,
man must seek his own perfection on all levels.

To leave man in ignorance, without culture, in disorder, in

slavery at the hands of material forces, is not compatible with

an enlightened pursuit of the Last End. This is the paradox of

man, understood in a Christian manner: he must pass through

the temporal order and, in part, by means of the temporal

order, pursue an end which can be attained only outside the

temporal order; while perfecting himself and the world, he

must keep in mind an end which is not attained by his own

efforts alone but with help from heaven with which he must

cooperate.

With the end of man so understood, we can see why a so-

58



ciety which encompasses family and profession is necessary and

why man himself must be organized in a political society. We
cannot dispense with a political authority which is charged

with sustaining and coordinating political life, demanding of

the individual that he make his contribution to the whole, and

preventing anyone from harming the common assembly. It

would be visionary to rely on a vast, spontaneous cooperation

which would need no direction or definition of obligations. A
power must exist which gives orders and sees that they are

executed.

Yet we have also seen that there is another society, an or-

ganization of salvation, the Church, which has charge of re-

vealing to us our transcendent end, towards which we must

tend, and of leading us there. All men are, at the same time,

submitted to two powers, one political, the other religious. It

is necessary to explain the relationship between these through

a definition of their proper functions. (It is better to speak of

functions rather than domain , for the latter gives the impres-

sion that a line of demarcation can be drawn between the two,

placing on one side those acts within the jurisdiction of the

Church, and on the other side, those acts relevant to the State.

This is impossible.)

First, let us state the problem correctly. In the progression

of man towards God, that is, in man’s search for his last end,

what is the function of the Church, and what is the function

of the State? For the Christian, nothing has meaning or value

except in relation to his last end, provided that he has con-

cern for all that this implies. Now, the pursuit of the last end

requires a specifically supernatural activity: faith in revealed

truth; hope in a future life; a love of God which participates

in the love God has for Himself; a love of neighbor, which

participates in the love God has for us; reception of the

sacraments; and observance of the laws of the Church. All of

this is evidently dependent upon the Church.

Pursuit of the last end also comprises acts of the temporal

order, different according to the circumstances of each: justice

in transactions, fulfillment of social obligations, observance of

the laws of marriage, duties towards oneself . . . These acts

can be performed with a supernatural intention, as they must

be, but only if they are good in themselves and conform to

natural morality. It still belongs to the Church to point out

those acts which can be supernaturalized and those which can-

not be, and also to recall to us the intention for which they

must be performed.

If we move next to the social plane, leaving aside the area

of individual acts, we will find an order of human relations,

determined by the laws which the political power must estab-

59



lish so that mankind can progress towards its last end. It be-

longs to the Church to say what this orientation of the tem-

poral order must be and also what the temporal order itself

must be in order that it be able to be oriented towards God.

But the Church is not concerned with the details of this or-

ganization. She demands, for example, that there be an author-

ity, but she leaves it to men to decide whether it is better to

constitute this authority through a democracy rather than a

dictatorship, through a republic rather than a monarchy.

The Church demands social peace, which implies accord be-

tween employers and workers, but she does not say, “You must

realize peace through a labor union or a management associa-

tion.” The concretizing of the ideal of social peace depends,

in part, upon the State, which has the obligation. (We do not

say that the State must do it all itself). The power which the

State has for this purpose comes from God, as does all power.

The order in society which the State establishes must assure

the development of mankind according to all its virtual powers.

It must aid man in his progress towards his last end by elim-

inating those temporal obstacles which clutter up the way. To

sum up, the State must assure the common good, which is a

true good and the good of all. In this way, all the people are

assured of the temporal conditions necessary for their full

development: human and religious, natural and supernatural.

We must insist on two points. While the State assures condi-
tions for man’s total development, these conditions are only

of a temporal nature. When the country is unjustly attacked,

the individual citizen must be ready to risk and even sacrifice

his own life for the common good. To allow the citizen to

prefer enslavement to sacrifice is to act contrary to the com-

mon good, because it is not for the good of man that he

succumb to cowardice.

In the mind of the Church, the State has a temporal func-

tion but a supernatural fulfillment. It is 'occupied with the tem-

poral order—which is not entirely material; yet it is necessary
and legitimate that the State be so occupied, because the tem-

poral order itself has a supernatural value which is indispen-

sable to the end of man as Christianity understands him.

The Church has no jurisdiction over the organization of the

temporal order; she does not dispose of the power necessary

for this organization. God has not confided this power to her,

which in no way makes her inferior, because her work is

higher. The State receives its power from God. Its power has

not been delegated by it to the Church. “The Prince” does

not receive his mandate from the Church. The Church merely

ascertains the existence or non-existence of political power; she

does not confer it.

60



But the Church does fix limits to the power of the State,

because she alone comprehends the total order, since she knows

the final end. It is the Church, consequently, who determines

the respective place of each of those who work to this end.

When we say “The Church,” we mean her doctrine, the teach-

ings of those who interpret her doctrine authoritatively. We do
not mean those men of the Church whose pretentions can be

and often have been exaggerated. The State can and must de-

fend its rights against the illegitimate interventions of certain

men of the Church. In such cases, the State defends the true

doctrine of the Church.

Having fixed the true limits of the State, the Church must

remind the State that it does not have power over the whole of

man. It must not make of itself an absolute end. It must never

forget the relative and subordinate character of the order which

it represents. A fortiori, the roles must never be reversed, nor
must the Church, its doctrines and its influence be considered

as means for the State to use in accomplishing its own ends.

All strong authority—and that of the State must be strong

—

tends to become total, to dominate entirely those who are

under it in one way or another. We will not, therefore, say
that the State will always consider the Church as an adversary,

but it is difficult for the State not to experience a certain im-

patience or suspicion of the Church. The situation becomes still

more delicate when men of the Church overstep their bounds

and provoke the State to defend itself. Little wonder that reac-

tions exceed their rightful limits and tempt the State to in-

fringe upon the rights of the Church.

More particularly, the Church has charge of the religious

and moral education of her members. She possesses the dis-

cernment of moral values on all subjects. She cannot allow her-

self to be driven back into a private life. She gives principles

of social and civic morality as well as of individual morality.

One of the precise teachings is that the citizen must obey the

legitimate orders of the State. From this principle, the State

itself has the right to fix civic responsibilities, at least in good

part.

By reason of its general jurisdiction over the moral order,

the Church makes judgments on certain acts of the State, but

not from a technical point of view. (Is a system of taxes fitted

to bring in the required resources? Is the army large enough

to defend a certain area?) Her questions, rather, are of a

moral nature. Is a particular ordinance of the State contrary

to the moral law? This is how certain temporal acts fall within

her jurisdiction.

To those citizens under her jurisdiction, namely, the bap-

tized, the Church forbids those acts which she declares are

61



illicit. If any of her baptized constitute a governing body, she

forbids them to command illicit actions. If they are the gov-

erned, she forbids them to carry the actions out. The Church

does not address herself to the government or the governed

as such, in virtue of a sort of political jurisdiction, but she

addresses herself to man—to his conscience. She does not give
man a political order, but she reminds him of a moral law.

Let us not say, therefore, that the political end is attained by

the Church inasmuch as it is tied to the moral end, but let

up say, more correctly, that political values are attained

through moral values.

The Church does not have power over temporal affairs, even

when morality or religion are concerned, for in exercising such

power, she would substitute herself for the State. She would

be a kind of super-State. But the Church does have power

in temporal matters because religious and moral values are

involved. The power of the Church is exclusively spiritual and

moral. There are, however, repercussions in the temporal order

just because the temporal and the spiritual are not separate

orders. It is always from the moral point of view that the

Church approaches a question. It is not she who intertwines

the spiritual and the temporal; they are necessarily intertwined

in the measure that a temporal act is also a human act, and,

therefore, a free act to be submitted to the moral law.

Thus the Church does not remove from power those who

misuse it; she does not claim this right. We do not approve
today, for example, of Pius V freeing the subjects of Elizabeth
from their oath of fidelity, not simply because of the resulting

evils, but because such conduct is outside the province of the

Church. At the very most, we explain these acts by historical

circumstances. The Church says this: “You have no right to

do or command any anti-religious or immoral measures or

anything that is contrary to justice or humanity.” Like all cit-

izens, Christians can try to change the existing rulers, so long

as no immoral means are used. If they are unsuccessful in

changing the ruling party, they must obey it in everything that

is not contrary to the law of God. While the Church demands

that the faithful repulse all unjust legislation and work for the

substitution of just legislation, she never requires men to try

to change the government itself.

How can we identify the power of the- Church which we
have thus far described? Generally, it is called “indirect

power,” which is a good expression to the extent that it re-

jects what is called “direct power” over the temporal, for

“direct, power” implies that the State is merely a delegate of

the Church in temporal affairs. True, it implies that the State

is a necessary delegate, but it errs in saying that the State

62



holds all its authority from the Church or from God through

the Church.

On the other hand, the expression “indirect power” is equiv-

ocal; it has served to designate two very different theories.

One of these attributes a certain temporal jurisdiction to the

Church in matters where temporal and spiritual values are in-

tertwined. We have already rejected this theory. The other
theory acknowledges the power of the Church to judge, con-

demn and forbid to the conscience certain acts bearing on the

temporal, insofar as they are sinful. This theory we hold, but

because of the two confusing theories, we have not used the

expression “indirect power.” We must, however, recognize the
ambiguity.

Should we use the term “directive power” in our explana-

tion? This isn’t a good solution, either. A “directive” is not an
order. In the case just mentioned, the Church gives orders to

the faithful, which are supported by the need for spiritual

sanctions. They are not simply directives. Let us never con-

fuse the exercise of the power of the Church with her “direc-

tive” power. One is a question of obedience demanded; the

other, of prudence. While a directive dictated by reasons of

prudence carries a true obligation, and is not something op-

tional, still it implies a more limited obligation than an order,

which demands obedience.

As a matter of fact, when an order is given by a legitimate

authority, the only thing that authorizes disobedience is if the

act commanded is sinful. But when it is a directive binding in

the name of prudence, we are not obliged to follow it if we

find good reason for thinking that the spiritual inconveniences

dreaded by the spiritual authority do not exist. Such considera-

tions are not, then, inspired by prudence, but based on facts.

Even if we do not follow the directive, we must respect the

authority from which it came.

It is the duty of the State to assure the common good, that

is, those conditions favorable to the harmonious development

of mankind and favorable, in the final analysis, to the develop-

ment of religious life. This is not to say that the State must

make Christians, but that the State must provide such condi-

tions for mankind that the Church can make good Christians.

Order is a favorable and necessary condition for the orienta-

tion of man towards his last end and to the work of Chris-

tianization which the Church undertakes. Disorder cannot

orientate man towards God. In a materialistic society violently

divided, for example, in which injustice reigns, the work of

Christianity is made difficult. The State must remove disorder,

not only because of man’s last end, but also because the na-

ture of man requires it.

63



It is a truism that man can never be correctly understood

without the help of revelation. Apart from revelation, the

nature of man is misunderstood, as demonstrated by those so-

cieties which developed outside of Christian influence. In

order to be guided by an authentic idea of man, statesmen

must know the requirements of natural morality as the Church

reveals them, for the Church is the guardian of natural moral-

ity.

Yet those statesmen and citizens who reject the authority of

the Church nevertheless retain in a greater or lesser degree

the idea of man which the Church has disseminated. Christian-

ity, in this sense, has acted as a leaven which penetrates every-

where. In the measure that the doctrine of the Church pene-

trates society and bears fruit outside the Church does the true

idea of man grow deeper and assert itself. We know that
Christianity succeeded in bringing society to reject the notion

of slavery. By revealing the supernatural dignity of man, the

Church has led society to recognize more and more the nat-

ural dignity of man. The same holds true for the acceptance of

the natural unity of mankind by society, for the Church re-

vealed mankind’s supernatural unity and its destiny to possess

God in common.

Thus it is that the Church animates the work of the State by

revealing new and higher demands of a human order and in-

sisting that the State sanction them by law and assure them.

Without dictating anything to the State, the Church diffuses

its influence. There is no direct power here, but a leavening,

Christianizing influence of the Church on the State. It brings

into play no power of the Church, and yet it is the most power-

ful influence of all.

64



CHAPTER XI

Morals and Politics

are some actions bad morally but good politically? One reply

links the absolute good with concern for a political organiza-

tion. Thus, whatever contributes to the success of the political

organization is good in an absolute sense, therefore, in a

moral sense. Morality is determined by politics. For example,

all that tends to establish and defend the true American order

is good and praiseworthy. If the good of the State is used as a

measure of the value of an act, it is because there is no value

which can be opposed to the State and no value outside the

State.

Let no one, therefore, ever object that “This measure, al-

though useful to the State, is contrary to the rights of indi-

viduals,” for the individual, having no human existence outside

the framework of the State, cannot oppose his rights to those

of the State. True, he may seek his own gain; he may progress

within limits compatible with the good of the State, but he may

not ask for more.

Furthermore, let no one ever object that an action, favor-

able to the State, is contrary to the development of civiliza-

tion, for there is no civilization except in a State. Hence, no

one can oppose the rights of civilization to the rights of the

State. Nor may that same act be condemned in the name of

religion, for the aim of religion is simply to inspire simple

souls with attitudes and virtues which are useful to the State.

By disciplining anarchical tendencies, religion helps make good

citizens. Religion has no right to incite opposition to whatever

is good for the State.

Finally, let no one bring forth the objection of a contrary

right of other States. Our own country has an absolute value,

because we have the means and mission to bring man to his

fulfillment. If our State becomes weak or disappears, mankind

is lost.

Such a theory of the absolute right of our country elim-

inates the possibility of a universal rule. Instead, it defines and

protects the enclosure wherein true civilization flourishes. It

is vain to hope to see it flourish elsewhere. The State is the

protective frame which will allow for a fruition of good works.

65



Anything that serves to protect this framework and ward off ex-

terior threats must be called good from every point of view,

because this is the basis for the true good.

Racism gives the same answer, only from different motives.

Here the supreme good is the flowering forth of the race in all

its potentialities. The State is only the servant of the race.

But it is the peerless servant, for the State, in the long run,

forges the weapons of the triumph of the race. Whatever en-

ables the State to serve the aims of the race is good, not only

politically but simply, without restriction. Such an idea, com-

bined with the absolute superiority of one race because of its

right to command and organize the world, is the source of

unlimited imperialism.

From the point of view of doctrine alone, Communism is

different, since in practice the same identification of the moral

and the political is professed. This is so, because it is necessary,

in order to create a “state-less, class-less society,” to pass first

of all through the dictatorship of the proletariat. Here, any-

thing that prepares for the triumph of the proletariat is de-

clared absolutely good. This is the criterion of morality. Lying,

terrorism, propaganda—all this is good if it leads to the de-
sired goal. Those who perform such acts need feel no guilt,

because they are making themselves useful to the cause.

As we can see, all these replies to our original question

have one principle in common: absolute good, supreme value,

are placed on the fulfillment of a political organization, in the

broad sense of organizing the terrestrial city. The conflict be-

tween morals and politics is suppressed by re-absorbing morals

into politics. All three theories—totalitarianism, racism, Com-
munism—judge the moral value of an act according to polit-
ical utility.

Because all three disregard morality, they are unacceptable

for a Christian. All three contrive to command acts which we

know are bad. They reduce man to a political being; they see

him only as a member of a terrestrial city. Yet, if man is some-

thing more, if he has a personal destiny, a personal value,

then he must perform some acts and avoid others regardless of

what repercussions they have here below.

Among those who believe in an absolute moral law which

binds man, whose destiny extends beyond the framework of

the temporal State, some will argue that “there are some acts

morally bad, because they are sins, but they nonetheless are

politically good, because they are useful to the State.” Hence,

such things as use of fraudulent means to liquidate a debt,

breaking promises, treason in foreign affairs, police action

against political opponents are justified. At first glance, their

answer looks obvious and reasonable. But we must go deeper;

66



we must discover precisely what is good politically. What is

our idea of politics?

Some say that politics consists of controlling men, whether

in parliamentary assemblies or in mob scenes, in order to at-
tain desired ends, no matter what they be. Just as there are sci-

entific techniques for handling inanimate objects, so there are

techniques for handling people. When these techniques are used
on the State level, we call them politics.

We reject this notion of politics. Without a doubt there is a
political technique, indeed a science, or rather, an art of pull-

ing strings, but this is secondary. It has value only when we

understand the true meaning of politics.

Since the State has for its end the temporal common good,

political science is above all the recognition of this common

good. Political science determines what type of organization

best suits mankind, all the while taking into consideration his

destiny. To this idea we must add that political science is also

the knowledge of how much of the ideal and perfect well-being

of man is possible in given circumstances of time and place.

For example, in our society monogamy can and ought to be

imposed by civil law; but in the colonies of dark Africa, this

could not be imposed in one fell swoop. Some measures could

be adopted gradually which would safeguard the freedom of

woman, defend her against certain despotic actions, and thus

gradually prepare the day when monogamy could become a

law. Perhaps after a great upheaval, certain radical reforms can

be attempted which, in a normal period, would be more diffi-

cult. True politics will know how to profit at the propitious hour.

Thus, there are several kinds of politicians. There is the

politician in the bad sense, who is prepared to control men in

order to lead them to whatever he wills. There is the doctri-

naire politician who wants to introduce the ideal into laws and

deed without delay or preparation and who, in so doing, com-

promises the ideal. Finally, there is the true politician who is in-

spired by the true ideal of the human State as it appears at the

present moment and who is aware of just what can be achieved

for the time being. His gains are incomplete and temporary, but

not final.

Can we say that politics, then, is the science of compromise?

If we mean by compromise a search for a balance between

forces and interests, the definition is not exact. Politics is not a

matter of finding a solution amid the forces that are operative,

but it is a question of orienting forces. But if we mean by

compromise the act of searching for that ideal of human so-

ciety which can be in fact fulfilled, then politics is really the

science of compromise, provided that these compromises are

67



not considered as permanent conditions, beyond which there is

no further hope.

In the political order there is a double relativity: the rela-

tivity of the ideal, which is always open to become more deep

and real; and the relativity of the fulfillment of the ideal, which

never quite measures up to the preconceived ideal. When the

ideal becomes better known, it is more forcefully sought.

Even when the possible has been seen, the task still remains

of finding the means to achieve it. This is where political tech-

nique can be applied. In this context, the technique no longer

seems like an end or a means of realizing just anything at all;

it now has direction; it serves to fulfill the common good, to

make the ideal penetrate reality.

Under these conditions, the problem of a politically good

and morally bad act is presented in an entirely different way.

What the State must pursue is the common good, that is, those

conditions which will permit those who depend on the State to

continue their human development, conditions which, by that

very fact, will be favorable to religious life. Thus, we cannot

consider politically good whatever favors some to the serious

detriment of others, nor whatever demands a sacrifice which is

not really a sacrifice for a superior value, nor whatever flatters

lower tendencies at the expense of others. For example, a work

schedule which increases industrial production at the expense

of the worker’s health is not a political good. The true good

of the State requires that man be preferred to production.

On the other hand, in the time of war or threat of war, it is

politically good to ask even a painful sacrifice of the worker,

just as a soldier is asked to sacrifice his life. Here, the well-

being of some is not subordinated to the good of others, but

the worker is asked to sacrifice his health, as the soldier sacri-

fices his life, for a superior value.

It is not a politically good act to flatter the indolent, to favor

alcoholism or immorality in order to assure the sucess of a po-

litical party, even if one were certain that his party was right,

politically and economically speaking. A situation would be
created favorable neither to human development nor conse-

quently to religious life.

Those acts which are classified as politically good though

morally bad are in fact bad politically as well as morally, be-

cause they place the common good where it does not belong. It

is always bad for a political society to be founded on injustice,

violence or corruption, even if it seems to derive some glitter-

ing advantages from it.

No one benefits, not even the few in a particular way. The

encouragement of selfishness in some people, the satisfaction

of their ambitions, is not a real good for even the people in-

68



volved. To concede to some an excess of power, at the expense

of others, which permits them to dominate and to enjoy a

pleasure which destroys them morally, is never a real good for

them. It is, likewise, an illusion on the part of a certain social-

ism to believe that the life of the State is improved by giving

the mass of people access to all its caprices. The State will

surely not thereby be more harmonious, because disorder will

have become the benifice of all, if we may even dare call it a

benifice. All these things are bad politically as well as morally.

Whatever makes a State unjust, whatever sacrifices man to the

masses, or one party to another party, whatever favors any-

thing of an inferior order is bad politically. Let us not be de-

ceived. All actions which are bad morally are bad politically.

69



CHAPTER XII

The Church and Liberty

louis veuillot, French Catholic writer of the nineteenth cen-

tury, has been accredited with this statement: “So long as you

are in power, we demand freedom from you in the name of

your principles; when we are in power, we shall refuse it to

you in the name of ours.” No proof exists that Veuillot ac-
tually said this, but it has the merit of expressing the charge

often directed against Catholics, that claiming for themselves

freedom of religion and thriving in it, they are thought to be

ready, on the day they feel themselves powerful enough, to de-

prive others of it. There would seem to be in this attitude a

sort of double-dealing, i.e., the success of their cause having

been brought about through freedom would mark the down-

fall of freedom. This duplicity is thought to be exacted by our

very Catholic doctrine.

Therefore, we phrase the question in the following manner:

may a Catholic who desires to be completely faithful to the

Church, honestly promise that he will never do anything, even

when he is able, to curtail, in a religious matter, the liberty

of those who do not think as he does? May he promise it, not
only for the times when the latter are strong enough to defend

themselves against oppression, but even for those times when

their weakness would oblige them to submit to it? This is a

serious question, for if the reply is not in the affirmative, sus-

picion will always surround Catholics, hindering others from

working with them on terms of mutual confidence; the others

would always have to be prepared to balk at the enterprises of

Catholics, if circumstances should seem to favor us.

Now, we are sometimes told that we cannot reply affirma*

tively if we wish to remain Catholics of integrity. In fact, the

Syllabus of Errors, or collection of modem fallacies, which has
as much as codified the doctrine of the Church on this point,

forbids the affirmative reply. Do we not read in the encyclical
Quanta Cura

,
which accompanies the Syllabus, that it is neces-

sary to reject the assertion that freedom of conscience and re-

ligion is a right proper to each man, a right which should be

declared and secured in every well-ordered State? And among

the propositions which the Syllabus rejects, is not the following

listed: “A State religion is not possible in our day.” “Is this not

70



definite?” we are asked. “A Catholic desiring to be completely

faithful to the Church cannot accept freedom of conscience; he

must be partisan of a State religion, which manifestly can be

only the Catholic religion.”

Ecclesiastical documents, however, must be “understood.” I

shall not say “interpreted,” for we sometimes understand by

this a process which consists in ridding ourselves of an awk-

ward text by turning it from its true sense. Let us remember,

first of all, that the Syllabus is a document which assembles,

under the form of propositions, a great number of condemned er-

rors. It was sent by Pius IX to the bishops of the entire world,

along with the encyclical Quanta Cura on December 8, 1864.

It summarizes the condemnations already stated in the preced-

ing decisions of Pius IX. It touches upon many other errors

besides those which concern the relation of Church and State.

Those which treated freedom of conscience, however, have

been, since then, most emphasized.

To be more exact, let us say, furthermore, that the Syllabus

does not present itself as an infallible document or as the

equivalent of an article of faith. This means that the proposi-

tions which it contains are not heretical from the sole fact that

they are listed. But it is evidently not in that direction that we

shall look for a solution, for, on the one hand, the doctrine re-

tains a great authority, and, on the other, in many points and

in particular on the question which occupies us, it does no

more than re-state the traditional doctrine of the Church. For

us, the only question is to discover exactly what the Syllabus

purports.

The problem of its real significance is not a new one. In our

attempt to justify it better than others have done, we have

only to take up the solution which does not betray the thought

of the Church. This solution consists essentially in the distinc-

tion between what is called “thesis” and “hypothesis.” The

thesis is what the Church considers as the ideal situation; this

would be a state of things in which a single religion is shared

by all. Such a religion would be, in the sense we shall define

later, a State religion. All the propositions which occupy us

here develop from the thesis.

As for the hypothesis, it is an imperfect situation which we

may accept and which, perhaps, we even ought to accept, given

concrete circumstances. In the state of divided minds, which

characterizes our modern society, we accept the situation that

there is no State religion, and that the power exercised by

Catholics accords freedom of conscience to all.

Since this distinction of thesis and hypothesis is accepted by

the Church, a Catholic has the right to say that he does not

seek to establish a State religion nor to suppress freedom of con-

71



science. But it still remains for us to understand the motives

which inspire this attitude. We must not let it be said, in effect,
that we reject what is in the thesis, or that if we believe in the

principles, we do so lukewarmly, or that in practice we are

guided by an opportunism designed to ward off suspicion.

If the Catholic Church distinguishes between a theory, on

the one hand, in which freedom of conscience is condemned and

by which a State religion is called for, and a practice, on the

other hand, by which the contrary position is adopted, is she

not guilty of double-talk and hypocrisy? Does she mean that

her theory is for those on the inside, while the practice is ad-

dressed to those on the outside as a reassurance dictated by

circumstances?

Is the Church motivated by expediency? Does she accept

freedom of conscience because she herself lacks the power to do

anything else? In other words, do Catholics accept the hy-

pothesis as a necessary evil so long as they are not strong

enough to do anything about it? Without hesitation, we must

answer No to all these questions.
Adherence to a theory based on the existence of an ideal

of truth, of an ideal which ought to be sought, and which has

a value in itself, should not result in a denial of the value

of the ideal. The very first requisite of our hypothesis is

that, in a religious matter, nothing has value except what is free.

A religious attitude cannot be imposed on a mature man be-
cause nothing would be gained except an external assent, which

is not what God demands. The essential idea of Christianity

(which is not found outside it) is that God asks for the heart

of man, his interior obedience and his love, all of which are

essentially free. Christianity has good reason for never forget-

ting this, for Christianity itself introduced this idea into the

world and has done so precisely by separating the requirements

of religion from the requirements of the State. Christianity has

affirmed the freedom of the act of faith which is the basis and

the foundation of religious life. It is the Christian concept of

religion which is the source of the idea of a tolerance which is

not based on skepticism.

Consequently, respect for the freedom of the non-Catholic is

not founded on the force which the latter is capable of using

against any attempt at oppression, nor on any contingent circum-

stances. It is founded on the very notion of religion, and there-

fore, on something permanent, something valuable everywhere

and always, whatever the relative strength of Catholics and

non-Catholics.

Perhaps we can now comprehend more clearly the following

statement, which sometimes gives so much scandal: “There is

no freedom of conscience.” This means, first of all, that if there

72



is an absolute religious truth, which every Catholic admits, and

if there is a revelation coming from God and a Church founded

by Him, man is not free to adopt it as he pleases or where or

when he pleases. It is his duty to welcome divine revelation

and to enter into the scheme of salvation which God has or-

dained for him. In other words, man is bound in conscience to

regulate his life according to truth and according to God. How
could we question it if we know that there is an absolute truth,

that there is a God, and that this God reveals Himself to us?

So long as we do not make man the measure of truth and

goodness, so long as we admit something above him, it is im-

possible to hold an absolute freedom of conscience. In other

words, it is impossible to adopt in religious and moral life an

attitude of our own choice.

Doubtlessly, everyone would agree with this. There is here,

however, only a matter of freedom or of obligation of con-

science towards God, whereas what is under discussion is the

issue of freedom of conscience in regard to the State and

the attitudes of the State towards different religions. Ought the

State to ban such and such a religion, whatever happens? Should

it suppress it if it can without inconvenience? The question is

more delicate, but what we have already said outlines a

solution.

In order to arrange the question in its proper order, let us

say first of all that the State ought not to tolerate, at least ab-

solutely and in a definitive manner, a religion which prescribes

acts contrary to natural morality, for example, polygamy. Here,

the State intervenes in the name of the duty which it has to

make human life or the dignity of woman respected.

Beyond this, we also recognize that the division of minds in

a society is in itself an evil, not only because of the different

inconveniences which result from it, but also because this di-

vision, testifying in itself that a certain number are in error, is

a disorder. Contrary to absolute liberalism, we must hold that

this division of minds on the most vital points of life is not in

itself a good. Rather, the unity of minds in the truth is the

goal towards which we should work and the establishment of

which we should desire. 1 If we believe, as Catholics do, that

1 Cf . A. Vermeersch, La Tolerance (1912): “The thesis . . .

is verified in a fully Christian society. Does that mean that it

takes place more often than the hypothesis? By no means! We
could even compare the thesis to an ideal whose perfect ful-

fillment is not of this world. But then, why speak of thesis and

hypothesis? Why not simply say that it is necessary to leave it
to one’s circumstances to determine his attitude towards re-

ligion? This reasoning would be faulty, because we do not ac-

73



religious truth is in Catholicism, the ideal state of union could

only be that in which all minds adhere to the religious truth of

Catholicism. We are thereby led to reject that other form of
liberalism which pretends that unity of minds ought to be made

on a purely rational plane and that unity of wills ought to op-

erate in the pursuit of a purely temporal good of mankind and

which would create religion according to man’s fancy. Here,

some would seek personal consolation in religion or would find

in religion the strength to accomplish their duties towards hu-

manity; others, not feeling the need of religion, would stay

away from it. These different attitudes are considered equally

worthwhile and legitimate. Thus, freedom of conscience is

founded on the principle that these different attitudes, religious

or anti-religious, are of equal good, so long as they permit man

to fulfill his temporal tasks, which fundamentally is all that

really matters. There is here a profound lack of discernment.

So far as Catholics are concerned, the ideal will never be

realized so long as all minds are not re-united by an adherence

to the faith of the Church, so long as all wills are not united

in the charity of Christ. We Catholics, therefore, consider as
an evil such division, that is to say, the fact that some men are

outside the Church. We believe that the Church alone can
gather mankind together. If this could be achieved, there would

no longer be a need for “freedom of conscience.” No one would
demand it, for all would accept freely to submit to God by

submitting to God’s sole religious authority on earth, the

Catholic Church.

But, so long as this ideal to which we aspire is not realized,

are we to then call upon the State to install our Church and

to forbid all other religions except the Catholic religion?

Please, God forbid! For what counts in religious matters, what

God demands, is the homage of a free heart. Compulsion is

powerless here. It would produce only a farce, which would

become harmful because of the reaction it would provoke, as

history offers so many examples. The demands of God and the

dignity of men are completely in agreement. It is by the apos-

tolate which addresses itself to freedom by respecting it that we

seek to promote the ideal of an integrally Christian society, and

we shall never use other means. If individuals, here or there,

cept with the same feeling unity in religious truth and division

which keeps so many of our brethren outside the way of sal-

vation, because compromise would not have the same value

and the advantages of a peace founded on true concord, and

because communion in truth is an end towards which we must

tend, with prudence, without doubt, and without violent move-

ments, but yet with consistency.”

74



seek to use some brutal means, they are not faithful to the

demands of their faith, but rather they are yielding to temp-

tation.

It is also by proceeding from this that we shall understand

the true sense of the expression which so often shocks us,

“State Religion.” The State religion is not only the one which

would have a full juridical existence, but also one which would

be officially professed by the State, which would render worship

to God under the form of Catholicism. Were there ever such

a nation completely rallied to Catholicism, it would instinc-

tively demand that the State which represents her render this

public worship to God. Such would indeed be an ideal situ-

ation. And in this sense, State religion is desirable. But not so

today, in nations divided in their beliefs. The Catholic must

not try to exact from the State a practice of such public wor-

ship. Such a worship has value only if, in accomplishing it, the

State represent at least in a general sense the unanimity of the

nation. In the measure in which that homage would be ren-

dered in the name of men who disavowed it or refused to take

part in it would it be worthless before God. The religion of

the statesman who tries to govern according to the spirit of

Christianity has value, but it is in his own name that he prac-

tices his religion, not in the name of those whom he governs

and of whom a part would disavow his actions.

In this sense, again, it is necessary to understand the con-

demnation of the following proposition: “A State religion is

not possible in our day.” We must not interpret it to mean:
“Despite the diversity of creeds which exists in our day, it is

necessary just the same to institute a State religion.” Rather,

we should interpret it: “This ideal of a completely Christian

society, which would demand of the State representing it a

rendering in its name a public worship, is still a worthy ideal

and therefore of value to our societies today.” The fact that

the ideal is not immediately realizable, inasmuch as conditions

are not favorable, is an imperfection of our societies.

Let us note here that the idea of a State religion is worth-

while in a conception according to which the State is not only

considered as a technical organization of government but also

as a moral person representing the whole of the citizenry and,

consequently, able and obligated to speak in their name.

In summary, in the different cases which we have envisaged,

what is necessary is not to demand that the State use force to

realize religious unity, but it is to work much more indirectly

than directly to bring about real unity, which will express itself

upon occasion in the State. This expression, to repeat once

again, has value only if it is, indeed, the expression of real

75



unity, and it is by an apostolate exclusive of all compulsion

that any real unity can be attained.

We see, then, what the Catholic can accept of the current
trend of ideas which is called “Pluralism.” (Only moral and

religious pluralism interests us here.)

* * *

Another question which we ought to discuss is concordats.

The Church considers it normal today that its relations with

the State be regulated by a concordat negotiated between the

two parties. It condemns on principle the situation which is

called “separation of Church and State,” a situation in which

the existence of the Church is not officially recognized, the

status of the Church being at least unofficially regulated uni-

laterally by the State. Does this show her desire to intrude in

politics? From this point of view, the expression, “separation

of Church and State” is perhaps unfortunate, for it can lead us

to believe that the question is solely one of separating the

political domain from the religion domain.

As a power in the spiritual order, the Church has a spiritual

end. But, because of the union of the spiritual and temporal in

man, the spiritual action itself has a need of temporal condi-

tions. In order to exercise her spiritual ministry, the Church

has need of certain material possessions, places of worship,

schools, money. . . . Obviously, it does not suffice that Catho-

lics or members of the clergy own property merely as private

individuals, but there must also be goods which belong to the

diocese, the parish, the religious community, the mission. . . .

There is a necessary reason, therefore, for ecclesiastical prop-

erty, and it must be legally recognized and sanctioned by the

State. On the other hand, while it reverts to the Church to

judge what is most suitable for its mission, the State has the

right and duty to see that ecclesiastical property not give away

to abuses, as so often has happened in history, e.g., the wealth

of the clergy in France before the Revolution, in Austria be-

fore the first World War, and in Spain before the establishment

of the Republic.

There is also the School Question. The Church affirms its

right to establish Catholic schools, colleges and universities.

It follows that the State has a right of control on certain points,

i.e., premises, hygienic conditions, civic loyalty, competence of

teachers . . . There is the question of marriage which, though

a religious act and a sacrament, involves civil consequences. In

brief, there is a whole series of questions of interest both to

Church and State.

The concordat is an agreement concluded between the State

and the Holy See to regulate all these question. (We here

76



take the word “concordat” in a wide sense; in reality, the con-

cordat, properly speaking, is only the principal type of these

agreements. The Holy See has also signed a different type of

agreement with different States, less inclusive, which can in

certain cases permit a “separation” to subsist officially. We are
here only trying to set out clearly the main doctrinal lines of

a subject whose details are canonical). A concordat implies,
at least in a certain measure, the recognition of the existence

of and the hierarchical organization of the Church. It can

happen that in countries where prejudices against the Church

are met, the inference of a concordat has the nature of raising

hostility. The Church prefers, then, to exist precariously with-

out a concordat. It can happen also, and it has happened, that

in the hands of a distrusting or ill-disposed State, the con-

cordat becomes an instrument turned against the Church; there-

fore, a breach of it could be regarded as a deliverance for the

Church, so long as the Church never takes the initial step to

break it. But these are accidental circumstances.

In practice, we can see rather clearly what an enlightened

Catholic would demand of the State today. In the United

States, of course, there is nothing that resembles a State Re-

ligion, nor is there a force being exercised in any way for the

benefit of the Church. But we would demand, first of all, that

there be no persecuting legislation. Above all, we must demand

of the State strong and just measures which would help create

an atmosphere of moral health throughout the country, in

order to eliminate some of the obstacles to the spiritual life.

This is not asking the State for a favor; it is a question of

its duty and proper function.

We cannot demand that the State sanction at every moment
the integral respect of the natural moral law, but the State

should aim, by improving mores, to make this respect possible.

Let us demand of the State, for example, an efficacious and

prudent but energetc and sustained struggle against alcoholism,

pornographic literature, prostitution, and immoral working con-

ditions. Thus we have an immense program for action, much

more useful for the good of religion than direct action in favor

of the Church. The State ought to create truly human condi-

tions of life, and thus create without ever seeking to do so a

favorable field for religious action.

77



CHAPTER XIII

The Church and Political

Power

let us state exactly what attitude the Church asks a Christian

to adopt towards political power and what attitude she herself

takes as dictated by her doctrine. Without attempting either too

facile a presentation or too subtle an interpretation, let us never-

theless not fail to take into account certain necessary shades

of meaning.

The Church recognizes the legitimacy and necessity of po-

litical power. Seeing in it, when political power performs its

duty, a means of expressing the divine will in regard to man,

the Church indeed sanctions political power. Man has a social
nature, which means he can attain his end only in social life.

On the other hand, social life supposes authority.

Rather than say that authority is something religious, since

this causes confusion, let us say it is something sacred, which

demands respect. That should make us feel that the abuse of

power is profanity and that disobedience is a grave matter. The

Christian knows that he is obliged in conscience by the orders

of legitimate authority, so long as its power remains within

the limits of its proper functions. Disobedience can, without

doubt, be serious or slight according to the importance of the

command in question, but we must never presume a priori

that resistance to legitimate authority is only a slight matter.

The person holding authority possesses his power only in

view of assuring the common good, not for himself as his own

good in order to derive benefits, honors, riches. He has author-

ity and power to rule only in view of the common good, which

is the very purpose of society. Authority is not domination over

people considered as chattel. It is the power of ordering what

is necessary or useful for the well-being of the very persons

who are to obey. Let us reflect on the double meaning of the

words “to order,” which means at the same time to command

and to arrange. The similarity is significant, for there is no real

command unless it establish some sort of arrangement which

places each person and each thing in its niche in society and

which, by so doing, makes for a well-ordered society. Outside

of that, there is caprice, arbitrariness, disorganization, the be-

78



ginnings of disorder; and the will of the one holding the power

is no longer the expression of the divine Will. We can sum
up by saying that the person holding power is at the service

of others. His authority ought to be his means of expressing

charity towards them. Like the Pope, he is “the servant of the

servants of God.”

This idea of power, founded on God, is most important, for

it is necessary to the common good but only to the extent

that it seeks the common good. It clarifies the entire conduct

of the Christian in respect to power. From it we are going to

draw some conclusions.

First of all, true Christian liberty derives its meaning from a

notion of power based on God. True Christian liberty is not

anarchy. It is not a pretext to be directly responsible to God

alone, in the sense that we eliminate all human intermediaries.

We do not obey a command of man as coming from man but
from God Whose will is thus manifested. A human command
is a symbol. True liberty destroys enslavement to caprice or

egoism and follows what is deepest and most real in man. It

makes man live in the image of God by conforming his will

to God’s, even in the realm of public life.

Hence, our first conclusion. The duty of obedience is not

founded on the personal qualities of the one who commands

but on his function. A fortiori it does not depend on any per-
sonal sympathy we may have for the man, nor on the fact that

he shares our personal preferences or belongs to our political

party. All the same, it is true that we should try to elect to

office men who will assure moral and technical guarantees to all.

Moral guarantees enable us to suppose that a person concerned

with government will not use his power for himself but for the

end which God has instituted for government; that he will not be

blinded by his personal interest or grant reprehensible favors

toward his family or friends. As for technical guarantees, they

are equally indispensable, for they imply technical competence

in working for the common good and understanding what is

possible. There are special gifts for politicians, just as there

are special gifts for artists, scholars or craftsmen. Good will

is not sufficient, for we have had ample experience with men

of good will who lacked competence.

It is this same idea of power founded on God, with the com-

mon good in view, which helps us understand in what sense

the Church condemned popular sovereignty in the Syllabus.

The Church does not accept the idea of a popular sovereignty

which places in the people the source of authority, rather

than in a man or in a party or group of men. According to this

idea, whatever the people approve is good, no matter how their

approbation is determined. This denies the Christian doctrine

79



concerning society. But the Church accepts a regime in which

those who hold authority are designated by the people. She

finds nothing contrary to Christian principles in this. Catholics

can rally to such a democratic process if they find it more

apt to assure an exercise of authority in conformity to the

common good . 1

In the final analysis, the people must indeed select their

leaders but not retain the authority in their own possession.

They should choose whomever seems the most capable of gov-

erning for the common good. When power has once been con-

ferred, the leader ought not consider himself a simple dele-

gate of the people, obliged to satisfy their desires. He ought

to govern for the common good .2

“I have done nothing but execute the will of the people.” Is

authority established only for this? Has it not also a function

to guide the country? Indeed, it does, and we understand

why we should not obey a government, even a legitimate one,

which commands something contrary to the law of God, for

it holds its authority from God, in the last analysis. To the

extent that government revolts against God it loses its au-

thority.

On the other hand, let us not oversimplify, as some do when

1 Cf . Chastel, S.J., Of Authority and Respect Due to It,

( 1851 ).

“The true source, the only human source of power is the

will of the nation, the formal or virtual contract between the

people and the person who receives the power . . . But since

all power regularly coming from that source is a laudable,

useful or even necessary thing, it must come originally from

God, the first Author of all that is good and useful . . . God

is the first principle and the mainspring of the authority which

results from it, as He is the principle and author of the rights

that every legitimate contract confers. It is in this sense that

theologians mean that ‘all power is from God,’ that the de-

pository of power is ‘the minister of God,’ and that he com-

mands in the name of God Himself. Authority, then, comes

at the same time from God and men; from God originally,

fundamentally; but as theologians say, mediately; from men

and their assembly, immediately and formally.”
2 Chastel, Op. Cit. “The contract between the nation and the

the leaders is not just a vain formality nor an act without value.

It creates rights for the governed: it creates some for the gov-

ernors. The nation does not at all delegate the power, but it

transfers and directs it to some extent, and for a stipulated

length of time. The nation does not delegate assistants; she is

obligated towards them as they are towards her.”

80



they reason this way: the government is legitimate; therefore

we owe it obedience in everything, without discussion. Some

go so far as to say that the contrary opinion would be tainted

with Protestantism. No. We must not obey any government
blindly, whatever may be its form and whoever be its titular

head.3 We must always be sure that what authority prescribes
is not contrary to the divine law.

With regard to criticism of government, what obligations

does the Church impose on the conscience of the Christian?

There is a duty of criticism, but it does not have as its end

to disparage those who have authored imperfect measures. Its

end is to help them perfect their work of government.

In our criticism, then, we ought not judge according to our

sympathies or antipathies. Nor should we take as our criterion

the repercussions of the matters under consideration on our

own personal interests. We shall judge only to the extent that
we are ourselves competent. While it may be very easy to see

how such or such a provision goes against the moral law, vio-

lates respect due to the dignity of the individual, honesty, etc.,

it is something much more difficult to evaluate it, especially to

foresee technical repercussions. It will be useful, moreover, to

recall that, to judge well, we must be impartial. Our judgment

must not be influenced by passion or by any considerations

other than the public welfare. If we have the duty to criticize

what is bad, we must do so sanely. This is a serious and diffi-

cult obligation.

It presupposes that we rid ourselves sufficiently of egoism.

We also ought to be prudent: it would be more worthwhile to
refrain from criticism, even from well-founded criticism, in cer-

tain circumstances or before certain personages, if these crit-

icisms would thereby be turned to the detriment of the com-

mon good. This is the rule to which we must always return.

It requires that we do not give in to impulses but that we re-

main in control of ourselves.

From these remarks, it follows that obedience to authority

3 Cf . Leo. XIII, encyclical Dieuturnum, June 29, 1881. “If,

therefore, we find ourselves reduced to this alternative, of vio-

lating either the laws of God or those of rulers . . . according

to the example of the Apostles, we ought to reply: ‘We must

obey God rather than men.’ And it would not be just to accuse

those who act thus of misunderstanding the duty of submis-

sion. For the princes, whose wills are in opposition to the

will and laws of God, exceed in this the limits of their power

and upset the order of justice. Consequently, their authority

loses its force, for where there is no longer justice, there is no

longer authority.”

81



is far from being servility. We ought to have the courage to
criticize, if in our minds and consciences we judge it useful
and beneficial, even though our personal interests might suffer.

Nothing is more opposed to the Christian spirit and the virtue

of obedience than flattery and obsequiousness.

Criticism and efforts to improve conditions affect not only

law or government personnel but also changes in forms of gov-

ernment. While the Church does not pronounce on the com-

parative value of different forms of government, either in them-

selves or in determined circumstances of time and place, each

Christian ought to form his opinion on such questions. He not

only can but he has the duty to do so, for he has a responsible

part in the life of his country. Moreover, he will be able to

reach this conclusion—that all forms are appreciably worth-
while, but that everything depends on those who exercise au-

thority.

The Church, however, does indicate the spirit in which crit-

icism should be made. Here, as everywhere, the same rule of

fidelity to the common good holds. We ought not to prefer a
special regime because of personal advantages which we our-

selves or families can draw from it. We ought not, furthermore,
let ourselves be guided by mere family traditions, which may

be a precious good on more than one score but which have

no role to play here. Given all the concrete circumstances, it is

important to see which form of government offers the most

possibilities to the governing to acquit themselves well of their

functions. If we conclude that the best form is other than the

one now ruling, we should work for its establishment.

This is true, however, only under certain conditions. We
must be sure that the upheaval which will be brought about,

at least temporarily, in a change in the form of government

will not work more evil than advantages. Also, immoral means,

such as lying, calumny in press campaigns or violence must

not be used. But we have a right to build a public opinion, as

a means of rallying others to our ideas and to secure a peace-

ful transition from one regime to another.

True enough, Christian doctrine imposes burdensome con-

ditions on our political action to bring a new regime into

power, but its concern is morality and the public welfare only.

The principles of action are the same, whether the regime be

a monarchy or a republic.

The problem of insurrection is a ticklish one, much more

so in its application than in its principles, which, in themselves,

are simple enough. Had not Spain, in 1938, given the problem

a cruel reality, insurrection would almost seem an imaginary

question today.

82



For an insurrection to be legitimate, it is necessary, first of

all, that the power against which one revolts has become what

theologians say “tyrannical.” That is, instead of working for the

common good, the existing power acts habitually and gravely

against it. Secondly, there must be no other means of remedy

open than force to suppress the existing power. If other means,

such as forming public opinion or passive resistance, have a

chance of success, they must be used. Recourse to insurrection

is an extreme measure. Also, the insurrection must offer the

chance to establish a new government which will work for the

common good. Insurrections are not lawful as mere reflexes

of exasperation, so long as they bring merely negative results.

They must not run the risk of producing evils greater than

those they try to correct.

All these precautions are dictated by the demands of the

common good. Everything must be weighed wth prudence, and

we will not entrust our interests to political intuitions, per-

sonal judgment or to the judgment of those who think as we

do. Finally, it is necessary that the tyrannical character of the

government and the impossibility of changing through any

other means than force be recognized by different minds and

not just be the opinion of one clan or party.

Nor dare we minimize the risk of the evils caused by the

insurrection; they are always considerable. Certainly, it is bet-

ter to bear with grave evils for some time—if that will bring
the existing government to change its ways—than to resort to
insurrection in an immature manner and without discretion.

The evaluation of churchmen concerning the legitimacy of

insurrection in a given case does not bind the Church nor the

consciences of the faithful. The Church has a doctrine which

lays down in a general way the conditions for a legitimate in-

surrection. But to know whether or not the conditions are

realized in this or that case does not come within the com-

petence of the Church.

What Churchmen say about it, according to what informa-

tion they might have, must be received with respect, even when

we do not agree with it. Their attitude merits particular atten-

tion, for in their situation and given their responsibilities and

position outside of any party, they have a better possibility to

be impartial. Because of their religious character, we attach

unrivaled importance to the opinions of Churchmen; yet it is

by reason of the guarantees of the human order which accom-

pany this religious character and not by reason of their author-

ity that we do so.

In practice, in the face of a government capable of truly

governing, whatever its origin is, one will not assume an atti-

83



tude of rejection and insurrection. Starting from a basic accep-

tance of it, we should work, if we think it necessary for the
common good, to transform it from within by peaceful means.
If the government decides to oppose all desired changes with

violence—whether the whole of the nation or at least its most
important part proposes them—then it will be difficult to avoid
open conflict. To the extent that the desired changes are legit-
imate, the existing government will be in the wrong in oppos-

ing them. The government deviates from right order, if not

legally, when it opposes such changes.

* * *

We will end our discussion with a short reflection on the at-
titude of the Church towards governments.

The Church, as we have said, accepts all governments which

are worthy of the name, without quibbling about their origin

and without scrutinizing their worth too closely. If she leaves

to her children all liberty of seeking governmental changes, she

does not associate herself with such attempts. She does not

pledge herself to this, and she does not wish to be compro-

mised in it. Fallen governments and their partisans feel at

times some bitterness and irritation at the ease with which the

Church accepts those who succeed them. They accuse her of

opportunism, nay, even servility. In justice, at least to the

Church herself, let us say that she does not subject herself

to all regimes in succession. She remains independent of them

all. She is devoted to her spiritual task and demands only of

the government in power that she be left the liberty to accom-

plish her mission.

In regard to existing governments, they sometimes demand

of the Church in exchange for liberty a measure of political

support. The Church must not accept this condition. Her efforts

can, without a doubt, coincide with those of the government,

although on another plane she cannot place herself at its serv-

ice. And if the government assures her the liberty she needs,

it merely fulfills one of its essential obligations. It need not

be paid for.

It does not follow from this that the Church does not render

service to the government. She renders it first of all the in-

comparable service of forming obedient citizens, disengaged

from egoism, who, even if they should some day seek to trans-

form the existing power, will not employ disloyal means, such

as lying or calumny or violence. The influence of the Church

will aid all the good which the government does, but, on the

other hand, it will oppose everything evil, arbitrary, unjust.

Let us repeat, the role of the Church is not to take sides

with or against existing governments. It is to fulfill a spiritual

84



and moral task. By the same fact, without intrusion, she will

help or oppose the efforts of legitimate government, and she

will do this with disregard of what the government would like

her to do.

«

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