Schopenhauer and Mysticism

I think it is not all that meaningful to look for separate Buddhist and Hindu influences in the thinking of Arthur Schopenhauer, but to to look at overlapping sources, like the Upanishads, the Vedas and the teachings of the Mahayana branch of Buddhism in particular.

The chief link here, the chief point of contact, is the illusory nature of the world of perception, a world of the ephemeral, contrasting with a more deeply rooted truth. There is a common emphasis in both systems of belief, moreover, on notions of 'release' or 'liberation' from the bonds of the ego, from all material desire. The escape from existence is the escape from suffering. Schopenhauer specifically relates his own doctrine of the denial of the will with the Buddhist notion of Nirvana-"Denial, abolition, turning of the will, is also the abolition and the vanishing of the world, its mirror"; for the world is no more than "the self-knowledge of the will."

Philosophy has reached its limits and nothing but mysticism remains.

Borges, Buddhism and the Eternal Recurrence

The relationship between Jorge Luis Borges, the great Argentinian writer, and Nietzsche is, perhaps, a little more complex than some would allow. Consider Borges' Lecture on Buddhism. Here is a brief sampler:

The history of the universe is divided into cycles and in these cycles there are long eclipses during which there is nothing or in which only the words of the Veda remain. Those words are archetypes which serve to create things. La divinity Brahma also dies and is reborn. There is a quite pathetic moment when Brahma is in his palace. He has been reborn after one of the calpas, after one of the eclipses. He walks through the rooms, which are empty. He thinks of other gods. The other gods appear at his command, and they think that Brahma has created them because they were there before.

Let’s pause at this vision of the history of the universe. There is no God in Buddhism; or there could be a God, but it isn’t the essential thing. What is essential is that we believe that our destiny has been predetermined by our karma or karman. If I was to be born in Buenos Aires in 1899, if I was to be blind, if I am to be giving this lecture to you tonight, it is all the result of my previous life. There isn’t a single event in my life which hasn’t been predetermined by my previous life. This is what is called karma. Karma, as I have already said, is like a mental structure, an extremely fine mental structure. We are weaving and inter-weaving in every moment of our lives. For not only our volitions, our deeds, our semi-dreams, our sleep, our semi-waking are woven: we are perpetually weaving that thing [karma]. When we die another being is born who inherits our karma

There is, of course no act of redemption; no defining moment; no unique event; no singular point in time, and no Saviour. History, in other words, does not hinge on an instant. If Christ returns he will be received by The Grand Inquisitor. It is the same, but different.

Not Mysterious

Sadly, John Toland was a man not of his time; a man who advocated principles of virtue in duty had little place in the England of Robert Walpole, governed by cynicism and self-interest. His intellectual reputation, moreover, was subsequently eclipsed by the likes of John Locke and David Hume, and still more by Montesquieu and the French radical thinkers. Edmund Burke in his Reflections on the Revolution in France wrote dismissively of Toland and his fellows- "Who, born within the last 40 years, has read one word of Collins, and Toland, and Tindal, and Chubb, and Morgan, and that whole race who called themselves Freethinkers?"

In Christianity not Mysterious, the book for which he is best know, he laid down a challenge not just to the authority of the established church, but to all inherited and unquestioned authority. It was thus as radical politically and philosophically, as it was theologically. This, and his political views, has given him an afterlife that could never have been dreamed of by Burke. It has even been argued that he was the 'first Marxist' because of his views on the relationship between matter and motion.

Bit by bit Toland's views grew more radical. His opposition to hierarchy in the church also led to opposition to hierarchy in the state; bishops and kings, in other words, were as bad as each other, and monarchy had no God-given sanction as a form of government. In his 1704 Letters to Serena-in which he coins the expression 'pantheism'-he carefully analyses the manner in which truth is arrived at, and why people are prone, as the Marxists might express it, to forms of 'false consciousness.'

In politics his most radical proposition was that liberty was a defining characteristic of what it means to be human. Political institutions should be designed to guarantee freedom, not simply to establish order. For Toland, reason and tolerance were the twin pillars of the good society. This was Whigism at its most intellectually refined, the very antithesis of the Tory belief in sacred authority in both church and state. Toland's belief in the need for perfect equality among free-born citizens was extended to the Jewish community, tolerated, but still outsiders in early eighteenth century England. In his 1714 Reasons for Naturalising the Jews he was the first to advocate full citizenship and equal rights for Jewish people.

Toland's world was not all detached intellectual speculation, though. There was also an incendiary element to his political pamphleteering, and he was not beyond whipping up some of the baser anti-Catholic sentiments of the day in his attacks on the Jacobites. He also produced some highly controversial polemics, including the Treatise of Three Imposters, in which Christianity, Judaism and Islam are all condemned as the three great political frauds.

His republican sympathies were also evidenced by his editing of the writings of some of the great radicals of the 1650s, including James Harrington, Algernon Sydney, Edmund Ludlow and John Milton. In his support for the Hanoverian monarchy he somewhat moderated his republican sentiments; though his ideal kingship was one that would work towards achieving civic virtue and social harmony, a 'just liberty' and the 'preservation and improvement of our reason.' But George I and the greedy oligarchy behind Walpole were about as far from Toland's ideal as it is possible to get. In many ways he was indeed a man born both too late and too early.

Making Martyrs

One aspect of the career of Sir Thomas More-Saint Thomas More-that tends to escape popular attention was his enthusiasm for the persecution of heretics, because it is not at all in accordance with the saintly 'Man for all Seasons.'

In religious and intellectual terms More was highly orthodox. The primary message of Utopia, for example, is the need for order and discipline, not liberty. The society described is totalitarian, about as far removed from present day ideals of freedom as it is possible to get. This is a world where attempts to discuss public policy outwith officially allowed forums are punishable by death.

So, More placed great value on the attainment of harmony and on a strict hierarchy of order. All challenges to uniformity and hierarchy were perceived as dangers; and in practical terms the greatest danger, as he saw it, was the challenge that heretics posed to the established faith. The most important thing of all for More was to maintain the unity of Christendom. The Lutheran Reformation, with all of the prospects of fragmentation and discord, was for him a feared and fearful thing.

His own personal counter-attack began in the manner that one would expect from a writer. He assisted Henry VIII with the production of the Defence of the Seven Sacraments, a polemical response to Martin Luther's On the Babylonian Captivity of the Church. When Luther replied with Contre Henricum Regem Anglie, with all of the venom and vulgarity of which he was capable, More was given the task of firing off a counter-broadside, which he did in Responsio ad Lutherum. Just as violent and as vulgar as Luther, this book deepened More's commitment to the forms of order and discipline outlined in Utopia. Heresy was a disease, a threat to the peace and unity of both church and society.

More was more than a writer: he was a lawyer, a political and one of the King's chief councillors, so he was able to give his hatred of heresy some practical direction. His early actions included aiding Cardinal Wolsey in preventing Lutheran books being imported into England. He also assisted in the production of a Star Chamber edict against heretical preaching. Further literary polemics appeared under his name; but his greatest opportunity came in October 1529, when he was appointed Lord Chancellor of England.

The task before him was simple enough "Now seeing that the king's gracious purpose in this point, I reckon that being his unworthy chancellor, it appertaineth...to help as much as in me is, that his people, abandoning the contagion of all such pestilent writing, may be far from infection."

Heresy was a cancer, and could only be stopped by burning, of books and of people. In June 1530 it was decreed that offenders were to be brought before the King's Council, rather than being examined by their bishops, the practice hitherto. Actions taken by the Council got ever more severe. In 1531, one Richard Bayfield, a book pedlar, was burned at Smithfield. Further burnings followed. In The Confutation of Tyndale's Answer, yet another polemic, More took particular delight in the execution Sir Thomas Hitton, describing him as "the devil's stinking martyr". The extraordinary persecution only came to a (temporary) stop when More resigned as Lord Chancellor in May 1532. It was the end of Utopia.

The Age of Outrage, or Irish Blasphemers

Ireland’s new blasphemy law came into force at the turn of the year. So, if you intend to exercise your right to free speech, the right to criticise religion, just don’t do it there; for, if you do, you may very well find yourself poorer by 25,000 Euros.

My own position here is quite clear: I would never knowingly attack or denigrate the faith of others, never knowingly cause offence. But what is one to make of a law that defines blasphemy as “publishing or uttering matter that is grossly abusive or insulting in relation to matters sacred by any religion, thereby intentionally causing outrage among a substantial number of adherents of that religion”?

I really don’t know the background here but I wonder if Irish legislators paused to consider that we live in an age of outrage, an age when people are all too eager to take offense against perceived insults, intentional or otherwise. What a backward step in this second decade of the twenty-first century for a European nation to attempt something as dangerously abstract as silencing people to protect ideas. I offer no apology for this because religion, all religion, is based on an idea or a system of ideas, some good, some bad, some dreadful.

I’m not an atheist, though my personal beliefs are quite subtle. I despise the likes of Richard Dawkins, an intellectual bully who seems to be advancing old intolerant absolutes in new clothing. I do, however, wish Atheist Ireland, an organisation set up to mount a challenge to this law, Godspeed! They have now published a book of twenty-five quotations guaranteed to cause outrage amongst the outrageable. (Yes, I know it’s a neologism; please don’t be outraged!).

Michael Nugent, the group’s chair, said that it would challenge the law through the courts if charged with blasphemy. In a civilized society, he said, people have the right express and hear ideas about religion even if other people find these ideas to be outrageous. Here are two of Atheist Ireland’s quotations to outrage you;

1. Also it has another name - The Word of God. For the Christian thinks every word of it was dictated by God. It is full of interest. It has noble poetry in it; and some clever fables; and some blood-drenched history; and some good morals; and a wealth of obscenity; and upwards of a thousand lies... But you notice that when the Lord God of Heaven and Earth, adored Father of Man, goes to war, there is no limit. He is totally without mercy - he, who is called the Fountain of Mercy. He slays, slays, slays! All the men, all the beasts, all the boys, all the babies; also all the women and all the girls, except those that have not been deflowered. He makes no distinction between innocent and guilty... What the insane Father required was blood and misery; he was indifferent as to who furnished it

2. There is some question as to whether Islam is a separate religion at all... Islam when examined is not much more than a rather obvious and ill-arranged set of plagiarisms, helping itself from earlier books and traditions as occasion appeared to require... It makes immense claims for itself, invokes prostrate submission or ‘surrender' as a maxim to its adherents, and demands deference and respect from nonbelievers into the bargain. There is nothing-absolutely nothing-in its teachings that can even begin to justify such arrogance and presumption.


The first is by Mark Twain, describing the Bible, and the second by Christopher Hitchens. Hitchens might be an easy target but who in their right mind is going to weigh into Mark Twain? :-))

Actually, I find the whole thing slightly amusing. I’m a little surprised that Atheist Ireland can’t also see the humorous side to this fatuous legislation. It’s really no more than a piece of legal window-dressing intended for the multi-cultural age, the age of supermarket faith, pick and choose as you will.

The Irish Constitution previously only offered protection to Christianity, a technical oversight that has now been made good. I assume the Irish Director of Public Prosecutions will have the good sense to ignore Atheist Ireland’s provocation, but what if the offended masses start beating down the door? The sensible thing here would have been to get rid of the anachronism of blasphemy legislation altogether and introduced some measure based on incitement to religious or racial hatred. Never mind: I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it…unless you happen to live in Ireland.

Blood and Wind-a Voyage into Medieval Atheism

I read a really interesting article in the BBC History Magazine (January, 2009) while sipping my morning tea! It’s called Doomed or Disinterested?, written by one John H Arnold. It concerns the degree to which some people in the Middle-Ages developed an active scepticism towards the teachings of the church.

Now, I had always known that, throughout its history, their had been dissenters and apostates within the Catholic community, though I had assumed that in the high Middle Ages such people would be more likely to embrace one heresy or another rather than outright disbelief. But many did. We cannot be sure just how many but it was a concern to those who wrote on religious questions at the time.

The question of transubstantiation, the concern that the act of faith was not enough in itself among the laity, was particularly troublesome. William of Pagula wrote that priests should not rest on the theological dogma alone, but provided more practical reasons enabling them to persuade their parishioners. The bread, he says, is not experienced as flesh and blood so that it does not provoke “horror” in those receiving it; so that “pagans” do not ridicule Christians; and because people are “not accustomed to eating bleeding flesh.” Yes, he does!

Some of the ‘miracles’ of the day were, in point of fact, conceived to overcome practical doubts about the Eucharist. In one popular tale a woman receiving the sacrament from Pope Gregory the Great burst out laughing when he declared that it was the body of Christ. When asked why she is said to have replied, “Because I heard you say that the bread I made with my own hands is God’s body.” Immediately the bread changed into the shape of a finger and the woman recovered her faith! Precious, is it not?

I suppose these cases could be taken as an example of proto-Protestantism, a belief that communion is only a symbolic act. But there are also cases of outright and simple atheism or scepticism, right across Europe. Giordano of Pisa said of this, “There are many people today who do not believe that there is another life, or that things could be better than in this one." Another wrote of those ‘unbelievers’ who are unhappy when their loved ones died because they do not believe that they will ever see them again.

My favourite example of this common-sense scepticism is that of Guillemette Benet of Oracle in southern France, who lived in the late fourteenth century. She is reported to have told her neighbours on several occasions that the soul is nothing but blood or wind. She reached this conclusion for two reasons; first when she banged her nose and noted the subsequent bleeding; and second, when she observed the death of a friend’s child, noting only the exhalation of air at the end. From this she deduced there was no heaven and no hell; no afterlife at all.

Blood and Wind. I shall write a book with such a title one day; truly I shall.

Monkey Trial

Most people are probably familiar with the Scopes Trial from the old Spencer Tracy movie Inherit the Wind. But the play on which it was based, written by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee (not that Robert E. Lee!) was not even about creationism, but the dangers of McCarthyism. Also, the movie seriously misrepresents the truth surrounding the whole affair. Dayton itself is depicted as stereotypical southern town, full of red-necked reactionaries, when it was anything but.

There were many people for whom the great fear was not the challenge to the literal truth of the Bible, but the advance of a particularly invidious form of Social Darwinism. The Tennessee law against the teaching of evolution theories in public schools was signed by Governor Austin Peay, who needed the support of the Christian vote for his re-election, but never thought the measure would be enforced. But there were various individuals and interest groups, including the American Civil Liberties Union, who wanted to push the matter in a test case, and John T. Scopes agreed to be cast in the role of the martyred teacher, in a highly contrived breach of the law. The text he used was A Civic Biology by one G. W. Hunter, which, amongst other things, puts forward the contention that the Caucasian race was 'the highest type of all.'

Perhaps the worst aspect of the movie is the misrepresentation of William Jennings Bryant-the 'Great Commoner'-who appeared for the prosecution. In truth, it was he who was the true progressive, not his opponent, Clarence Darrow, who appeared for Scopes. Amongst other things, Bryant, a three-time candidate for the Presidency of the United States, had supported votes for women, improved factory conditions, a minimum wage, the eight hour working day and a variety of other radical measures. His support for the Creationist cause was not as straightforward as imagined. He believed that Social Darwinism was being used to justify poor working conditions.

Darrow, in contrast, an enthusiast for Nietzsche, as well as Darwin, had the full backing of H L Mencken, a leading journalist, and also an advocate for Nietzsche and Darwin-The strong must grow stronger and that they may do so, they must waste no strength in the vain task of trying to lift up the weak.

Given these views, he hated both Bryant and his 'social conscience' style of politics. For him the whole trial an opportunity to humiliate Bryant and ridicule the South, telling Darrow that 'Nobody gives a damn about that yap schoolteacher.' Against such a background the actual outcome of the trial, which was a foregone conclusion, was irrelevant. It was, in the words of Garry Wills "...a nontrail over a nonlaw, with a nondefendant backed by nonsupporters. Its most famous moment involved nontestimony by a nonexpert which was followed by a nondefeat." (Under God: Religion and American Politics, 1990)