Tag: Religion

Shamanic residues in medieval Europe: a review of Ginzburg’s Ecstasies

 

In Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches’ Sabbath (1989, tr. Raymond Rosenthal 1991, University of Chicago Press), Carlo Ginzburg argues that the practices of medieval witches in Europe, as testified to in the documentary evidence compiled by their persecutors, can best be understood in the light of shamanistic belief systems inherited or borrowed in ancient times from the central Asian steppe.

The work is certainly a tour de force, with an extraordinary breadth of reference, and it brings many interesting elements to light which on the whole support the author’s thesis. Nevertheless, there seem to me to be a number of problems of methodology and certainly a great deal of material (some of it, admittedly, unavailable to him) which Ginzburg does not employ and which deserve further consideration in a more complete reconstruction of the historical links between the phenomena in question. In this review I will therefore try to summarize Ginsburg’s argument as I see it, whilst attempting at the same time to suggest further avenues of research or alternative understandings.

The principal difficulty Ginzburg encounters, it seems to me, is a failure properly to delimit what he sees as the “shamanic” elements from other pagan traditions. The book lacks a framework interpreting the place of properly shamanic elements in ancient religion, whether it be Greek or Celtic. That Celtic religion and certain Greek and Roman ecstatic cults may owe a lot to shamanic precursors is easy to acknowledge, but these cults and others then took on a life of their own which is certainly more directly relevant to the phenomena we encounter in medieval Europe. This layer is absent or assumed away in Ginzburg’s account, making to my mind for a considerable amount of speculation and confusion.

This is evident for example in his account of the reconstructed prototype of the shamanic journey to the “world of the dead”. This concept is indeed reminiscent of the somewhat sinister reinterpretation of the underworld in Greek religion and may represent an Indo-European type (borrowed into Christianity in medieval times only as the notion of purgatory); but it is certainly far removed from the understanding which would have characterized, and still characterizes to this day, nomadic shamanism in central Asia. The same is true of blood sacrifices, which cross-culturally characterize organized religion, but not shamanic practice. The same is true of sexual specialization in the ritual context. Many elements present in the strata uncovered by Ginzburg are therefore more suggestive of survivals of Indo-European religion (that is, of the religion of settled agricultural societies) than of shamanism as such. This would have benefited from clarification and greater rigor.

Ginzburg’s treatment of the role of psychoactive substances in medieval witchcraft appears as much of an afterthought, as a result of which he forgoes a number of interesting lines of enquiry. Drawing substantially on Eliade, he certainly sees the witches’ flight as a phenomenon experienced in a state of shamanic ecstasy, but there is little on how this state might have been induced and what there is draws heavily on Wasson’s identification of the soma with Amanita muscaria and on the disputed theory that the Eleusinian mysteries were fuelled by consumption of ergot. There is plenty else which may seem more persuasive, from the likely use of anticholinergic plants such as Atropa belladonna to the well-known affinity of witches for toads, snakes, serpents and spiders, all of which are known to have psychoactive components in their venoms and were gaily thrown into the cauldron as part of the witches’ brew. In Slovenia, it appears, live salamanders are used to this day in the process of fabricating a psychoactive eau de vie. This rather obvious connection is inexplicably neglected, even as Ginzburg himself furnishes important evidence in support such as the likely derivation of Italian rospo, toad, from Lat. haruspex, a type of sorcerer.

The picture Ginzburg paints implies a great deal of accommodation of traditional practices by the church up until the threshold of the Renaissance. These were of course, at times, given a superficial Christian dress; but it seems that they also often remained anchored within a pre-Christian (or para-Christian) worldview. The Celtic cult of Epona therefore persisted in various guises, as did Greco-Roman cults of Diana/Artemis and Hera, fused by the Inquisitors into the figure of “Herodias”. The cult of Isis, absorbed into that of the Madonna, might also be mentioned. The reasons for the apparent change in attitude on the part of the church at the time of the persecutions are not evoked; doubtless one should interpret these developments, however, as a reaction to the threat of loss of temporal power by the church due to the same encroachments of modernity – the Italian renaissance in particular – which later led to the protestant reformation. Ginzburg does not make the point, but the reasons why the traditional beliefs would have remained vibrant are not hard to identify: Christianity was unconcerned with worldly health and well-being, leaving many popular needs unsatisfied. Small wonder that mediums, soothsayers and healers occupied a fundamental spiritual niche in society (they have never ceased to do so to this day). The challenges of uncertain harvests and the ravages of the plague also necessitated intermediation with cosmic forces which the organized church could not offer. It is highly unlikely that this was ever even conceived of as a problem until the church sought to leverage its spiritual power behind the consolidation of its temporal influence and the enterprise of the crusades.

Ginzburg sets considerable store by the widespread mythological theme of lameness or loss of one shoe on the part of figures considered to occupy a shamanic vocation. This part of his reasoning is convincing, but surprisingly he has no interpretation of its actual meaning. It is, however, difficult to resist the hypothesis that the wearing of a single shoe symbolized the position of the shaman-priest as a walker or intercessor between worlds.

Certain elements which presumably survived into Greco-Roman, Celtic, Germanic and Balto-Slavic religion nevertheless do seem specifically to evoke themes found in central Asian and Siberian shamanism but which are not, according to current understanding, thought of as shamanic universals. The use of animal mounts or the metamorphosis into animal form in order to undertake the shamanic journey is the most persuasive of these, as it is distinct from the more auxiliary role of spirit animals in the New World traditions. A further interesting commonality is the widespread notion identified by Ginzburg in Eurasian traditions that the spirits can resurrect animals and people from their bones, which recalls Harner’s account of ecstatic dismemberment as characterizing the shamanic vocation (and may offer a bridge to animal or even human sacrifice). Other themes found in the European witch cults and in shamanism more generally are shamanic election with the concomitant inability to refuse the vocation and the ministry of depossession as well as intervention in climatic phenomena and psychopomp activity. The Scythians, according to Herodotus, practised a form of sweat lodge in which hemp seeds were thrown on the hot rocks; certain archeological discoveries seem to support this account. Lastly, the use of the drum to induce ecstasy seems to be attested in Ginzburg’s sources, though it is far from clear how material an element it was.

Ginzburg, then, has done enough to convince us that elements of nomadic shamanistic beliefs persisted into the folk traditions of medieval Europe, although it is not entirely clear how the thinks that this has happened (in the book, the notion that there may actually exist a parallel reality the substance of which explains structural convergences cross-culturally is not even entertained; at best he allows that this may be explained by the Jungian notion of the collective unconscious). That we may be less historically estranged from these traditions than we thought we were may be an abiding legacy of his work. It nevertheless is at best suggestive, leaving much unsaid. Despite his impressive scholarship, it seems certain that there is ample evidence yet to be considered in order to give a more complete account of medieval European folk religion and its immediate and more distant antecedents.

Dealing with Life’s Decisions – (2) Innate Resources

 

In the previous article in this two-part series, I explained why, in a broad class of cases, the information we receive is likely to be a very poor guide to the actions we should take. This is the much-delayed part two; delayed mainly because I realized I didn’t have a satisfactory answer to my own question of what a better guide might be. In this post, I’ll put together the elements I now have even if I am sure there is much more to be said.

So what basis may we then have for decision, if science does not afford one and positivism is to be mistrusted? And a linked question: on what basis, descriptively, do we actually make decisions?

To the best of my knowledge, though both have grappled with it, neither science nor philosophy has an answer to this age-old riddle.

Derrida was fond of the claim – somewhat abusively attributed by him to Kierkegaard – that “the moment of decision is madness“. Decisions, claimed Derrida, are characterized by circumstances in which “it is not possible to know what should be done, when knowledge is not conclusive and does not have the vocation to be so” [1]. In this case “the only possible decision passes by way of the folly of the undecidable and of the impossible” [2].

Kierkegaard in reality was talking about the act of faith, characterized by the Christian apostle Paul as “foolishness to the Greeks“, i.e. outside the frame of logical deduction to which Hellenistic philosophy by virtue of its very precepts could lead. [3] Paul’s account of the conversion experience rings phenomenologically true: it is a moment in which a feeling of knowledge renders reason superfluous, one which subjectively appears to take place on another level of consciousness. This describes not only religious experiences, but many key moments in the life of anyone. It therefore seems to be at least descriptively accurate. The decisions one takes in such moments are experienced as beyond doubt, as led by a higher force, as apodictic: and therefore as right even if, paradoxically, they ultimately turned out ‘wrong’. And yet conversion presumably is, in fact, in our normal sense always wrong as it is interpreted to include the act of adhesion to a number of precepts which cannot be completely correct – as Kierkegaard rightly noted.

With the benefit of hindsight I can see many ways in which I might have improved, in my own life, upon decisions which I took under the influence of internal circumstances which might be compared to a conversion experience. They include matters related to relationships and academic choices. And yet although I am capable of imagining or even holding some of those decisions to have been wrong, I am incapable of regretting those same decisions, however unwise a seemingly “neutral” observer might find them to have been. There is therefore, it seems, a state in which certain decisions can be taken which, even if they are arguably unwise or suboptimal, are at least insulated from regret.

If such a sense of certainty can pervade weighty decisions, therefore, it nevertheless seems to be well worth examining them critically. Psychologist Arthur Janov has argued that conversion experiences display a universal psychodynamic pattern of ego collapse, but this is of course entirely separate from the specific meaning attached to these experiences by those who undergo them[4]. It follows that, even if in that moment the subject may indeed have been in contact with “truth” – a possibility which cannot be assumed away – nevertheless it is essentially impossible to interpret this “truth” in a way which is verifiably and intersubjectively correct[5].

De facto, even under less dramatic circumstances a number of people would doubtless cite not only science and values as a guide to decision making, but also hunches/their inner voice and self-observation. This “inner voice” represents a type of knowledge the nature of which bears further consideration, comparable in some regards to Spinoza’s “third type of knowledge” which he called intuitive knowledge [6], as well as to Husserl’s phenomenological epistemology.

Innate somatic intelligence

At one level, it seems to me that we can found the notion of an inner voice biologically. I will take the example of food. It seems (at least to me subjectively) that our body has some sense of the nutrients which it requires at any given moment – an innate, pre-conscious nutritional intelligence – and that when we make decisions related to procuring nutrition, for example when shopping, preparing food or choosing from a menu at a restaurant, this innate intelligence plays a role, together, of course, with many other factors which may be less nutritionally relevant (emotional associations with particular foodstuffs, physiological addictions, what we have been told about food, what our choices communicate …). The reality of such a sense is well illustrated by the phenomenon of cravings during pregnancy  – these appear to be informative of physical needs (although this has not been proven) even if there is unarguably merit to interposing a reflective act between the drive and its gratification, as the linked article suggests. Such an innate intelligence presumably also informs the hunting or foraging impulses of other animals. We, as other primates at least, also have an innate ability to learn from our experience of certain foods which, perhaps largely subconsciously, feeds back into future decision making.

At the same time, it is hard to believe that if he were left to make all the decisions himself, my son would naturally gravitate towards a healthy diet (unless, perhaps, I were to release him into the wild). Food behavior is learnt socially in our species, presumably a significant evolutionary advantage; although on a simpler level, this is also true of other primates [7].

Unfortunately, explaining how this innate nutritional intelligence works, distinguishing it from other neurophysiological mechanisms, and determining the confidence we can have in it in making nutritional decisions is a serious philosophical and neurobiological problem which we are not even close to understanding. Some philosophers such as Thomas Nagel and Colin McGinn even argue that the mind-body problem, of which this is an instance, is inherently insoluble. Ramping this up to the next level to explain the role of intuition in complex decision making and the faith we should or should not put in it is therefore beyond the reach of any current theory, and quite possibly beyond even the reach of scientific enquiry per se. The most we can do is list instances where it goes wrong or is misleading and develop heuristics designed to avoid giving it excessive weight. This is perfectly valid and useful, and yet here is a core dimension of human existence about which we are struggling to say anything sensible.

Attitude

Faced with this situation, and with no way to resolve it, the philosophical tradition has focused on the question of the right attitude to adopt vis-à-vis our drives and urges. This tradition has tended, until recent times, to place in my view an unwarranted degree of trust in reason, the logos of Hellenistic philosophy, which presents itself as a metaphysical concept the boundaries of which (as with any socially constitutive concept) are inherently contested. The abandonment to reason urged on us by philosophers seems to lack practical value and to be value-laden, as I have previously argued. It inevitably leads to the tendentious classification of desires on a scale of value, with ‘base’ desires conspiring to lead us astray contrasted to lofty desires which lead to transcendence. This imposition of judgment can be labelled as at best arbitrary and necessarily leads to a bifurcated sense of self which is always in a state of internal conflict.

I therefore prefer a system of heuristics on top of intuition to a metaphysical belief that there is something called ‘reason’ which, if only I would listen to it, would direct my steps better than I might do myself; it sounds awfully like the superego. In my view, there is no need to sublimate desire or benefit from doing so; the contrary impression is merely the consequence of a parody of what constitutes human desire which incorporates unnecessary and ill-founded value judgments. However, I would still reason that the attitude to adopt towards desire is a question of both ethics and esthetics (in other words a question of consciousness), largely because these concepts capture a necessarily intersubjective dimension of desire which is missing in the atomistic Freudian account. This merits a discursus.

An important concept in this context is that of epoché or bracketing, popularized by phenomenologists in the tradition of Husserl who argued that the question of the real existence of objects perceived by the mind, which Kant argued was inaccessible to inquiry, could be set aside without losing the possibility of truth and meaning.

Epoché played an important role in the Greco-Roman Skeptical philosophy of Pyrrhonism. Without actually claiming that we do not know anything, Pyrrhonism argues that the preferred attitude to be adopted is the suspension of judgment or the withholding of assent, since only in this way can the seeker achieve the state of ataraxia or tranquillity. This does not imply that we have no rationale to choose one kind of action over another; however, one kind of life or one kind of action cannot be definitively said to be ‘correct’. Instead of a life of inaction, the Skeptic insists (presumably for no compelling reason other than social convenience) that one normally ought to live according to customs, laws, and traditions.

The nature of desire as movement-towards, and therefore presupposing representation of an object, is one which Franz Brentano argued it shares with other psychosomatic phenomena and which distinguishes such phenomena from phenomena in the natural world, a notion referred to as intentionality. Although it is questionable whether consciousness can be fully reduced to intentionality, for present purposes this problem can be set aside since the category of impulses we are concerned with for the purpose of assessing their reliability is certainly intentional. This intentionality may be social in nature, either because it is directed towards another person as such or because it involves the representation of an act or project which would confer more than purely private benefits or inflict more than purely private costs. Because of this fact, it is obvious that ethics and esthetics enter into the question; these are in fact social means – constitutive of intersubjective modes of action – which allow for group intention. To my mind, the possibility of intersubjective intention is fundamental to the nature and experience of desire.

It might appear that individual and group intention would be prone, even frequently, to conflict, and that there is a trade-off between them which poses itself in win-lose terms. Do we not, indeed, speak of antisocial desires and of social tyranny? While certainly a part of the felt experience of desire, however, there is more to it than this: the participation in shared desires also expands the individual’s range of possibilities and constitutes a source of gratification which is unavailable to her as a purely atomistic actor.

The question of the right attitude to adopt to desire depends at least in part on the confidence we can have in its subjective manifestation. Given the phenomenon of neurosis, that is, of displaced desire, it would seem that this may sometimes require considerable powers of introspection. This statement would appear also to hold good in respect of intersubjective intention. If food cravings are problematic enough to interpret, sexual desires, consumerist impulses and other displaced manifestations of the will to power are surely even more at risk of being tainted and subverted. Is this distinction phenomenologically available to the mind? That is, is there some qualitative characteristic of mental representations of desire which allows the subject to determine their authenticity, their freedom from involuntary subversion?

Probably all I can say at this point is that it seems to me that there is. Not that I am entirely comfortable with a binary disposition of desires between authentic and inauthentic, nor indeed that even authenticity is sufficient to ground action, but nevertheless, all this being said, certain desires just ‘feel’ different from others, just carry within them more of a sense of growth and expansion which gives them greater appeal and authority.

So I think that this distinction can be made phenomenologically, but also that abandon and detachment can coexist. Readers will recall my earlier criticism of Buddhism on the grounds that it seems to preach an unwillingness to actually live life with full commitment. Nevertheless, the attitude of detachment is objectively a part of Dasein and required for its metaphysical consistency. Any identification with a project of ones life, or with ones sensory experiences, is necessarily a confusion since all of these things are perceived or shaped by ‘something’ which cannot be reduced to them, of a form of thought which precedes mind and possesses a potentiality which vastly exceeds its lived experience. It is the adoption of the perspective of this ‘something’ (for which of course a variety of names have been proposed, but I prefer not to employ them for fear of being misunderstood) which constitutes detachment in the sense of apprehending the finitude of ones temporal existence as an artefact of historicity and its subdimensionality relative to the perspective sub specie aeternas. In other words, there is a dimension to which even philosophy can painlessly accede, because it is required strictly by logic, but which cannot be reduced to individual experience and nevertheless is immanently present to being. This seems to me to be what Heidegger is saying in Being and Time: that the dichotomy between contemplation and celebration can actually be overcome, must, in fact, in the logic of things be overcome.

The attitude to be brought to desire is therefore both the serenity of ataraxia and the ecstasy of abandon, the Apollonian and the Dionysian, stillness and dance, the esthetic and the ethical, the perspective of being and the perspective of time; both, simultaneously.

To view this as an inadequate basis for decision is the result of a rationalist bent which I believe it is easy to show reduces to the absurd. The argument is on the following lines, but I will just sketch it out. Taking decisions is just a part of living life. In order to assess the quality of these decisions, it is necessary to determine their effect on the individual’s life. This is their sole yardstick, but it is inaccessible to anything other than the subjective experience itself of being. There is, in essence, no counterfactual and no possibility of error which we could speak about in intersubjectively meaningful terms. Given this, the only pain which is real and actually borne as a result of decisions is the pain of regret, a pain conditioned on having in fact taken a decision other than the one which one ‘knew’ at the time, or should have known, was the ‘right’ one to take. It follows that a strategy which insulates against regret is the best strategy available; there is nothing better, and certainly nothing better about which we can meaningfully talk.

Now, I may seem to contradict myself since the whole premise of my blog is that there are behaviors we are likely to engage in because of our biological nature which we would be better off avoiding. But this formulation, although clear and easy to understand, contains a subtle error : it is not our biological nature which prompts suboptimal decisions, but the way in which the available options are framed by social institutions. The error comes from the institutions, and not from our nature. When I insist that we need a better understanding of our biological nature, what I mean is merely that we need to adopt a standpoint which allows us better to detach ourselves from social institutions, to see their contingency, to reform them so that the act of making right decisions will require less of a superhuman effort than it does now, perhaps to see or consider options we otherwise would not, and to understand why our spirit suffers in the world as it is, that is, to attain to wisdom. This is an agenda of growth and it is part of life; it is not a precondition of being able to live or to live meaningfully.

Attaining a conscious perspective on the part of the individual will often not make additional social options available; the same menu of choices will be there. This is why taking a decision which is at variance with that which one would take if fully reconciled to ones biological nature is not wrong. It is because one cannot be fully reconciled to ones biological nature in isolation from ones peers. The range of decisions available even to a Buddha is a small subset of what would be the decision space of an enlightened humanity. Because I cannot take decisions for all of us, my decisions will never have the quality of plenitude which, if I criticize the decision framework I have outlined for being insufficient, I would be implicitly berating them for not having. It is simply the wrong yardstick.

If we manage to live without regrets from this point forward, we will have attained to the highest trajectory available to us within what remains of our lifetime given where we stand now. It seems to me that this should be our highest aspiration.
*****

Notes

[1] “Quand il n’est pas possible de savoir ce qu’il faut faire, quand le savoir n’est pas déterminant et n’a pas à l’être”

[2] “La seule décision possible passe par la folie de l’indécidable et de l’impossible“.

[3] First letter of Paul to the Corinthians. On this paragraph see Bennington (2011), “A Moment of Madness: Derrida’s Kierkegaard”, in Oxford Literary Review, Volume 33, Number 1, July 2011, Pages 103-127.

[4] http://cigognenews.blogspot.be/2010/11/conversion-experience.html

[5] Janov speaks of the conversion experience as if it is necessary a solitary one. It seems to me likely that in so doing he significantly underestimates the importance of community – that is, of the tribal impulse – in religious conversion.

[6] Ethics, Part II, proposition 40

[7] Whiten, A. (2000), Primate Culture and Social Learning. Cognitive Science, 24: 477–508

The emergence of the spiritual

This merits a much longer piece, but I want to get the idea out there.

In Les Regles de l’Art, Pierre Bourdieu describes the emergence in the 19th century of a concept of autonomy in the sphere of cultural production, whereby progressively artists shook off the constraints of the need to conform to sanctioned norms and/or to  communicate a “message”, in favor of “art for art’s sake”. To be an artist was to be someone whose duty of truth to him- or herself took absolute precedence over any other consideration.

This, I see, merely prefigured a wider emancipation of humanity which is still only at its early stages today, and not yet widely recognized as such.

The concern to live a good life has for a long time been the preserve of philosophers and theologians, figures who occupied a consecrated position within the hierarchy of social power. Even the artist’s freedom to create has not always meant a freedom in personal life, an ars vivendi (neither has the philosopher’s souci de soi).

As the social institutions of religion have collapsed in Western society, new religious movements have stepped in to occupy the space vacated. These movements have sometimes been of a mass nature, but also sometimes are little more than a clan. The easy availability of information in the internet age has also had a profound effect on these dynamics, rendering them both more ephemeral and more centripetal. But almost all of these new movements, to this day, seek to do exactly what religion has always sought to do, that is to respond to the human need for community by building social systems in which degree of initiation determines place in the hierarchy and ideas are turned into doctrines and dogmas, falsely dehistoricized to become foundational myths. However, in the modern world it is very hard to monopolize habitus and many forces militate against ever recreating the religious empires of the past.

The discipline of inquiry taught us by the philosophers potentially contains a grain of truth, but since Plato until modern times it is certainly thought of wrongly: as a search for what is “out there”, can be uncovered by reason and accordingly should guide our behavior. As I have argued before, this project in reality (the tyranny of reason) seeks only to control us in the service of a possibly (once) imperative social goal, but not one we have freely chosen or even, frequently, questioned.

Although most of us recognize that there is no “truth” in art, we are still highly conditioned to believe that there is truth in life; a meaning which is external, which some have found and which we can emulate by following in their footsteps.

In my opinion, our relationship to our spiritual forbears should be no different to the relationship of the artist to hers. Spiritual creation is a work of art, which may uncover something of the structure of the universe but which simultaneously embodies what Zola called “the particular language of a soul”, specific to time and place. It is a universality without universalism, and utterly contingent on this impossible paradox.

Is there evidence that this spiritual field, in Bourdieu’s sense, is emancipating itself from religion and coming into an autonomous state of being?

I have of course not done any historical study and it is very much my impression that almost no-one yet understands or espouses this understanding clearly, although there are clearly echoes of it already in systems both ancient and modern. Driven by economic factors, ego, habit or expectations, most spiritual teachers try to keep their disciples on the hook, and many aspire to found their own dynasties.

I say, spiritual truth can only be communicated as art, and the spiritual teacher must have the attitude of an artist and should be thought of in this way; indeed, the attitude of an artist is incumbent upon all of us, for we are all artists of our own life. There is no possible way that the student can emulate the teacher; the student can only express her own essence. As (even) Jesus said, unless the seed falls into the earth and dies, it cannot bring forth fruit.

It is very hard for those of us who seek truth to understand that it does not matter where we look for it; to understand that, in fact, “truth” is not a very good word. We all tend to think that if one person has truth, another does not; that is the nature of positivistic truth and we are accustomed to thinking it is also true of spiritual truth. But it is not. Spiritual truth, like artistic “truth”, is inborn, in our cells and in our consciousness; no-one can transmit it to us, all anyone can ever do is wake us up to it within ourselves, and to do this they are never more than instrumental. The environment around us most propitious to our spiritual awakening is not a problem we need to solve, it is much more an emanation of what is already inside.

We need to cease the search and become artists of our own lives, surrounding ourselves with and attracting other artists, certainly, but purely for the joy of sharing in their beauty.

Tolerance and civil rights in the internet age: an essay in honor of national coming out day

Tomorrow is (inter)national coming out day.

I strongly believe that coming out – if you can do so safely – is both personally and ethically imperative. The personal imperative behind coming out is to live ones life in the light rather than in the closet. As LGBT writers and activists have made clear, living life in the closet, though it may be a necessary survival strategy, has extremely perverse effects. The Wikipedia article notes that reasons not to come out include (a) societal homophobia and heterosexism, which marginalize and disadvantage LGBT people as a group, resulting in potential negative social, legal, and economic consequences such as disputes with family and peers, job discrimination, financial losses, violence, blackmail, legal actions, restrictions on having or adopting children, criminalization, or in some countries even capital punishment as well as (b) internal conflicts involving religious beliefs, upbringing, and internalized homophobia in addition to feelings of fear and isolation. Coming out of the closet has even been shown by researchers in Montreal to have significant positive effects on health.

As an ethical matter, one should come out – in Western democracies at least – because the right to do so has been hard-won, and because doing so makes it harder to discriminate against ones community. It encourages others to follow in ones own footsteps, diminishing the personal cost to them of living their life in the light. It also avoids the risk of being blackmailed when ones sexual orientation inadvertently comes to light, and of living ones life in fear. For persons in the public eye this is particularly important.

The Montreal study cited above also contains the interesting observation that “contrary to our expectations, gay and bisexual men had lower depressive symptoms and allostatic load levels than heterosexual men.” (emphasis added)

This may well have been contrary to the researchers’ expectations, but it perfectly coincides with mine. We heterosexuals live our lives in the closet in numerous ways, including but not limited to the sexual. For my part, I can share that I am “monogamish” (that is, de facto socially but not sexually monogamous) and to some degree heteroflexible. In both regards (social monogamy merely being a choice of lifestyle and not an orientation), it is my belief and current understanding, as frequently argued on this blog, that I merely represent what a typical male of our species would be if social restrictions on these ways of thinking and being were removed.

Since I therefore belong to the entitled majority – albeit that majority may beg to differ – it shouldn’t be too difficult to out myself as a member of it. But it is non-trivial all the same. First I had to understand these facts about myself and accept them, which has taken half a lifetime (on an optimistic reckoning: and there may well be more I do not yet know) and then I, just like my LGBT brothers and sisters, have still needed to look societal prejudice in the eye (as well as consider the interests of my family) and say: tough, this is me (and by the way, it’s quite likely to be you too). Like I say, I don’t consider this act by a typical member of the entitled majority particularly brave. I think if I could not say these facts about myself publicly, I would be an outrageous wimp and betray generations of civil rights activists who have fought for the freedoms I now take for granted. I would be free-riding, and possibly living on borrowed time, instead of making my own contribution to a better, more tolerant and loving future for all of humanity. The ethical imperative is so overwhelming it is the greatest no-brainer I know of.

Today I read – I believe it was in Flemish daily Het Nieuwsblad, though I haven’t found a link to the article – that new rules requiring telecoms operators to log internet use are likely shortly to become law in Belgium. According to the article, these rules go beyond a European guideline of 2006, and it has been argued by police and judicial authorities that they need to do so in order to keep up with technological developments and stay ahead of criminals using new technology to dissimulate their plans. The article didn’t talk about civil right safeguards or give much detail on the specific arguments behind the plans. Although I certainly start from a position of caution regarding limitations on freedom, I don’t want to judge these plans here, and certainly not on the basis of that one article. But what does seem to be the case is that the space for freedom of expression which the internet has opened over the last decade and a half is starting, globally, to become a little less private than we thought it was. And this means, the closet is being busted into. Aside from the benefits of coming out, the closet is no longer a safe place to stay.

In the space of only a few years, we have become used to a freedom we never before imagined. The internet has been so tremendously successful as a social platform because it addresses basic human needs to communicate and build community. But long before the state surveillance angle became a topic of discussion, it was already clear that the explosion in the social use of the internet and in self-publishing meant that society was faced with a choice between one of two paths: either to embrace greater tolerance and diversity or to foster an environment in which everyone was enabled and hence driven to share, but nervously required, like in the communist societies of the past (and many of course still today), to look over their shoulder at the possible worst-case social consequences of their sharing.

As time has gone on, this social choice has become more and more stark. It is now certain that both governments and major corporations have the means to put together a very detailed picture of any internet user, even the more careful – their political and religious views, sexual orientation, fantasies and paraphilia, their friends and family, socioeconomic status, and a host of consumption preferences. To some extent the use of this information is constrained by the law: currently insufficiently, but conceivably and hopefully more robust legal safeguards will be put in place. Jurisdictions with stronger rules on online privacy may find themselves at a competitive advantage to host social internet services. Strong encryption systems and distributed peer-to-peer application topologies may wrest a certain level of control back for the user.

But I suspect it will always remain an uphill battle. And the consequence of this is that anything about which you may feel personal shame, or which may be societally disapproved of, always may come to light. Unless, that is, you bury it deeper than your relationship to it may make possible.

This in turn means that a host of situations in which collectively vast numbers of people are implicated and which today exist in a tolerated, if sometimes disapproved of, grey area, may tomorrow have to choose if they are black or white. Legal norms against widespread practices are routinely subject to a degree of latitude in their implementation. But if, tomorrow, we cannot leave this equilibrium untouched, we will have to legislate more sensibly and with considerably more regard for the facts relative to populist sentiment. Not only legislation, though, will have to change merely to maintain the status quo: ultimately, it is societal attitudes which will have to become considerably more accommodating if we are not to find the space for freedom and diversity shrinking intolerably and ourselves facing the prospect of a totalitarian control of society which formerly could only be imagined as the grimmest of science fiction.

I want our societies to be safe, and  I want us to stay ahead of terrorist and criminal threats. This is not only a legitimate role of government, but one of its basic functions. Both sensationalist reaction and counterreaction are dangerous, and must make way for serious and informed debate. At the same time, democratic controls over the use of personal data by governments and corporations must be put in place and procedural safeguards made robust.

I also value the ease with which the internet makes information available and allows us all to grow in our knowledge of the world and of each other. The benefit to all of humanity of this must far outweigh the danger which this same fact poses in relation to persons with malicious intent.

Ultimately, we are only going to get this balance right if, collectively, we all grow up. In the internet age, every civil rights issue you ever heard of has merged with a host more of which you have not. We are all interdependent and the freedoms of all depend on the freedoms of each. I feel very close to the LGBT community, as I do to feminist thought and anti-racist campaigners. Ultimately, all of these have a single message: my right to be me. Society, whether through government or private initiative, has a right to limit self-expression only when there is an overwhelming, objective need to do so – not just out of political expediency in response to populist sentiment. This basic unifying principle must be placed at the heart of democratic institutions and of the law and replace the partial protections of the past – based on sexual orientation, race, gender, disability or religion – with a full protection of the human being as such. It must be constitutionally guaranteed.

Religion is the best example of what I am talking about, because unlike all of the other attributes it is not objective : I can change my religion in a way I cannot change my race, gender or sexual orientation. In fact I personally have done so more than once in my life, and am still not too sure what term to apply.

Although religion is not an objective attribute, the protection of religious minorities in fact antedates by far the protection accorded to any of the other categories. This is the consequence of one simple fact: the murderous wars of religion and the eventual realization, first tentatively recognized in 1598 by the Edict of Nantes, that it was only if the mutual right to exist was guaranteed by law that sectarian strife could be brought under control and stable, prosperous societies emerge (“Pour ne laisser aucune occasion de troubles et differendz entre noz subjectz, [nous, i.e. the King] avons permis et permettons à ceulx de ladite Religion pretendue reformée vivre et demourer par toutes les villes et lieux de cestuy nostre royaume et pays de nostre obeïssance sans estre enquis, vexez, molestez ny adstrainctz à faire chose pour le faict de la religion contre leur conscience, ne pour raison d’icelle estre recherchez ez maisons et lieux où ilz voudront habiter“).

Yet although religious rights antedate other minority rights by a substantial margin, it is not very clear – any more – what a religion is. Is there a positive list or can anyone found one? In the latter case, is there a presumption of legality, or a process to become included in the positive list? When religions fracture, do all groups acquire the rights of the parent religion, or do some have to reapply? What rights apply to individuals, and which to the religion as such? Do some religions have a more restrictive set of rights than others? What is a critical set of beliefs (or number of adherents) which sets a “religion” apart from a simple philosophical worldview? And so on.

I am sorry if this sounds ill-informed about the jurisprudence on this topic: it certainly is. But the point is that religion, if it ever was a simple matter, is so no longer. The reality is that each of us, today, is free to make up his own religion, and many of us actually do (if you want to try, Daniele Bolelli has even written a “how-to book without instructions“).

In the past, religion involved a choice between a very limited number of options and religions as such could have rights, not just individuals qua members of that religion. Now, many people espouse a religious identity with no audit trail of “membership”, chop and change, may differ widely in beliefs from any sanctioned mainstream dogma, and some religions (such as, to its credit, Islam) never had a single voice of authority in the first place.

Under these circumstances, religious rights cannot mean what they meant in the past – they must extend to the right to live ones life in any way one personally finds meaningful and which is not demonstrably and significantly dangerous to the rest of society or to vulnerable groups (like children) within it, whose constitutional rights may override religious ones. The rest of society may not like a particular worldview, agree with it or (even more likely) for that matter understand it: if it is my own, ever-changing worldview then the latter is certainly the case (not even I could tell you exactly what it is today but it certainly differs from what it will be tomorrow). But my right to hold it must be at least as sacred as the rights of Quakers, or Baha’i, Sufis or whomever. I should not have to seek sanctuary within any of these groups if I do not wish. As I argued in a recent post, true spirituality is creative and actually requires me to be different from anyone else – I cannot follow a dogma.

The internet age demands extraordinary efforts of adaptation on the part of society, but we have the resources we need, in the form of long-cherished principles of political liberalism, to seize this opportunity to build a stronger, better and more inclusive world. By standing up for who we are and what we believe, placing ourselves proudly within the illustrious heritage of all those courageous predecessors, each of us brings that world a little closer.

Street religion

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Nigel Harvey Photography. Source : http://we-will-break.deviantart.com/

London on a Saturday night is brimming with raw sexual energy. Party goers dress to impress – and to excite.

A couple of hours earlier I had been in the delightful energy of the alternative fashion scene in Camden Market, beating out ecstatic dance music and brimful of creativity (at this point, I have to link to Cyberdog and Sai Sai, I just love them too much!).

I’m not sure if the denizens of this milieu see themselves as a subculture or counterculture, I have no doubt that society (still) does, but I see them as in the very vanguard of culture, its vibrant, beating heart. They turn me on, excite me, leave me spellbound and dumbstruck at their artistic prowess. Where stuffy old conservatives see decadence and degeneration, I see the opposite… cadence, generation, life springing inexhaustibly from its source.

Leaving Camden market, I was on my way to a self-styled “Ecstatic Dance” event. There was live tribal-style dance music with drums and other instruments, accompanied by incantations to Gaia and helper spirits, all mixed up with yoga breathing and chakra meditations. The participants were dressed casually – read, in many cases, badly – and they interacted very little with each other. While the music was OK, it was nowhere near the ecstatic heights of what I had been listening to in a mere retail store a few hours before. And raw vegan food meant lots of sugar and plenty of chocolate.

I’m not knocking it. Well OK, I am, but the thing is this. One experience was creative and ecstatic, if maybe lacking in self-awareness. The other was derivative and stale, a veneer of spirituality on top of behavior with which everyone was comfortable. No remise en question. An attempt to recreate a tribal dance and shamanic healing “vibe”, but achieving at most only something of the form, very little of the substance.

In the world of spiritual practice there is nothing which is true or false, but there are some things which are authentic and alive and there are other things which are stultifying and dead. The two may resemble each other in form, but they differ wildly in spirit.

Spirituality, you see, is creative. It is an attempt first of all to imagine, and then to create, a more beautiful world. There are innumerable ways of doing that, but there are many more ways of failing to do so. The spiritual seeker is an artist. Copying someone else’s form of spirituality is nothing more than plagiarism. It will never put you in touch with yourself. That is what people who have no wish really to change are doing all over the world, day in day out, and it makes no difference if they do it in a traditional place of worship within an established religion, or in a community center hired for the occasion with an ad hoc crowd of revelers who found each other, as we did, on the internet. Of course, learning from a true master in any sphere of life may be a wise choice of apprenticeship. But this does not change that there is great art, and there are sad imitations.

Spirituality is out on the streets these days (perhaps it always was). It is the quality of all those who rebel against social conditioning, who strike out on their own or with a group of friends, who believe in themselves and dare to change the world, but never retreat from it. It goes as unnoticed by self-styled new agers as it does by the established church, yet it is way more authentic, way more life-affirming, than either. This post is my attempt to tell these kids (of all ages) that those who are really spiritual esteem them beyond measure. That if only they have the courage to stick with who they are, explore and, over time, deepen their youthful intuitions, they will make the world better for all of us. And while peaceful meditation in nature and solitary moments under the stars may be just as numinous, I wish more of us would cast aside stale, “ecstatic” asceticism and worship there, in the thick of life, at its source.

Oh, and I wish that they would start their parties just a wee bit earlier… 😉

God, sang Faithless, is a DJ. But not quite. In fact, it’s the DJ that is God.

Monogamy and personal growth

As I have noted before, mankind has an amazing and innate skill for manipulation through shame, which implements an effective evolutionary strategy designed to ensure group coherence and the passing on from one generation to the next of epigenetic knowledge about the world. Emotional manipulation is particularly easy for persons in positions of authority.

This skill, or Achilles’ heel if you will, has been exploited by agrarian societies in order to solidify the social relations of economic production. They have done so in two main ways, one of which Aquarian society is well aware of and in the process of abandoning, but the other of which remains largely normative and unquestioned.

The institution of whose corruptness we are well aware is religion. Organized religion cynically latches on to mankind’s inherent sense of awe and numinosity, and channels it into a vehicle which commands subservient obedience. True religion is a demand-side, or better collective experience, but the supply side has used threats, misrepresentation and coercion in order to dominate it.

We have been fighting this and pushing it back for centuries. In the Enlightenment we coined the idea of separation of church and state, choosing, no doubt opportunistically, to ignore that this is a complete nonsense: church and state have always been simply two aspects of each other. Whenever a religious movement has really challenged the basis of the agrarian state, it has either been short-lived and brutally repressed, or rapidly co-opted, and thereby denatured, by the powers that be. As Marx stated, “The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is required for their real happiness.”

We have been much less willing to dethrone the second pillar of social subservience: the family. Should we be in any way surprised to learn that this institution is one of those  dearest to a religion whose founder stated “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters–yes, even his own life — he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26)? We should not be surprised: the intentions of the religion and of its founder are diametrically opposed to each other.

I am not, however, going to get into a lame exegesis of statements I am not concerned to defend. The point I wish to make is that human nature displays a tribe-building instinct which social authority has deemed is allowed expression only through the institution of the family.

That institution and its rules have of course varied from place to place and changed significantly over time. For most of human history it has not implied complete restriction on the sexual freedom of men, but it has ensured that women occupy a subservient place in society, essentially reducing them to one more item of property in the estate of their husband.

The social allocation of women – what we may term the bridal economy – has, of course, reduced men’s sexual freedom indirectly, by making many women sexually unavailable, but there has always remained the institution of the brothel, and enough “shared” women with no choice other than to populate it due to unfortunate circumstances in their lives. However, this is no more than a valve to let off what would otherwise be an unbearable build-up of pressure due to the power of male sexual drives. A brief liaison with a prostitute in a brothel, even when relatively free from shame, hardly allows for satisfaction of the complete sexual instinct, which requires relationship and connection. Indeed, the sexual drive itself is only the basest component and the easiest to gratify. Thus it remains the case that within all systems where women are treated as property, the sexual instinct of both sexes, in its full sense, is almost completely repressed.

Repressed, of course, is not the same as forgotten, as many utopian attempts at reconstituting polyadic communities over the centuries attest. Free love has often been subversive and remains so today. Friedrich Engels wrote that “It is a peculiar fact that with every great revolutionary movement the question of ‘free love’ comes to the
foreground“. As Reich can testify, the idea of sexual pleasure as an organizing principle of society has hardly been universally welcomed.

Monogamy and its historical variants have served the goal of social control not only by repressing sexuality and the empowering vitality which it engenders. Families are perfect units to tax, both for money and for soldiers. They are associated with transgenerational property rights, the defence of which necessitates compliance and docility. They are also far less robust than tribes to the losses of individual members, meaning that those members must be risk-averse. Lastly, the family unit is naturally self-propagating. Children are conditioned into it and their economic incentives are aligned with it.

Even today, there is a doctrine of humanitarian intervention into the affairs of state, but families are very largely self-governing, not as a result of any liberal conviction but rather because they are so constitutive of the greater whole which is the state. But if monogamy were intrinsic to our species, why would we need so many institutions to enforce it?

We sleep around, but we feel guilty, just as we used to feel guilty for not going to church. This is a sure sign of having been manipulated into believing that the behavior in question is inconducive to the welfare of the group. If we believe the exact contrary to be the case, then it behooves us to be courageous.  We need to reject the traditional institution of marriage with the same joyful iconoclasm as many of us reject the institutions of the church.

Certainly, we will need to find other ways to structure our lives remaining compatible with the need for community, companionship, allowing each person independence, and rearing emotionally healthy children. This is a vast project with no map to guide the way, and it is easy to fall back on what is tried and tested, even if the result of testing conventional monogamy in its modern form has been to show that it is an enormous failure. Whatever institutions we may invent going forward, however – and I use as always the word ‘institution’ to mean not only form but also content – such institutions will need to be compatible with human nature and aspirations, or they are not worth having.

The confinement of sexual expression, and indeed frequently of all expression of adult intimacy, to one single other person, together with the societal assumption that this will, always and everywhere, be the case, is a pillar of oppression which we need to pull down if we purport to be on a spiritual path. This alone, however, is insufficient because it considers only the sexual dimension and ignores the aspiration – often passed over by some of the more austere thinkers I have quoted – to live in deep community and to raise children together in love. Given our biological nature, this is frequently hard to realize other than within institutions which have the form of dyadic relationships with dependent children, and I am not arguing that everyone is obliged to follow a more utopian path whatever the practical difficulties. Within that structure, it must, however, be absolutely clear that commitment does not translate into exclusive focus and that other loves, on the part of persons equally conscious and enlightened, are considered an enrichment, and welcome.

Grrl power

Their aims and methods can be discussed, but the activists of Ukrainian women’s rights organization Femen, which recently opened a “training camp” in Paris, have surely hit on a means of protest – female public nudity – which deserves, and will probably receive, more prominence in the future. This is one of those phenomena which, to me, captures a fundamental shift in the Zeitgeist and may prefigure important and long overdue social changes. For this to happen, however, there is a need for a further shift in feminist self-understanding. Due to recent advances in research into the ontogenesis of patriarchy and its social costs, such a shift, I believe, is at hand; all it needs are sufficiently eloquent advocates.

Femen got started as a means to alert young women in Ukraine to the dangers of the sex industry and to try to get attention from the authorities to this problem. With its move to Paris, a city which once had a global reputation as a cradle of progressive social movements, once wonders if this will change. The group (or incipient movement) has an enviable brand identity, but so far seems lacking in ideological focus.

Femen’s methods are hard to resist because they tap into some deep cultural veins. On the one hand, the patriarchy has, as part of its subversive strategy vis-a-vis female sexuality, offered women a trade-off whereby they have given up their rights to sexual self-expression in return for physical protection and, in recent years, increasing opportunities for personal (of course non-sexual) expression. This protection is far from having been universally effective, but it has entailed inculcating a moral code according to which it is widely considered unmanly to use force against women. Men accordingly, and society as a whole, therefore have difficulties in deflecting these women from their goals, and the more vulnerable they are and the more obvious it is that this is what is going on, the more encumbered is the response of the patriarchy to it, since repression generates greater and greater indignation, even on the part of those who normally tacitly acquiesce in the existing order.

In the past, public nudity might have been enough of a taboo that the fuss around it would have overwhelmed the reaction of solidarity; but it is likely that this is no longer the case. Female public nudity is, in the West, no longer a breach of social contract; violence against women is.

However, aside from this issue of social contract there is also, I believe, a much deeper and far more significant attitude to the naked female body on the part of men which renders this type of protest very powerful in the collective unconscious. This attitude is biologically rather than culturally determined or at least, if culturally determined, draws on archetypes which are much older than agrarian society.

The presence of such a pre-cultural representation of woman in the male imagination underlies Carl Jung’s theory of the anima. This representation portrays women as sexually empowered, strong, intuitive and wise; in many ways the polar opposite of the culturally constructed role – virgin, demure, weak, in need of protection etc – from which almost all seductive power has been eradicated.

Therefore men have created a role for women in which they no longer desire them. This may have seemed to matter little as long as part of the female population was reserved by men to stand outside this stereotype – prostitutes, courtesans, mistresses, priestesses, witches and so on. These women were permitted to don perfectly contrary attributes. And, as time has gone on, men, who have imagined themselves able to get by on images of women quite unlike the culturally manufactured real thing, have had no problem in going on doing so, in art, fiction and pornography. As the man often cares only about the congruence between the image and his anima, projecting this onto the screen of reality through the vehicle of erotic fantasy, this has given birth to a prodigious parallel oeuvre of imaginary social re-engineering.

The imaginary figures to which this oeuvre has given birth are, however, at least as potent a cultural force as their equally imaginary counterpoints. By donning the mantle of the superheroine, Femen rejects the “acceptable” role given to women by society and taps into a powerful erotic script over which the patriarchy is conflicted and to which it therefore has inadequate means to respond. Significantly, this seems almost inevitably to entail an attack on organized religion; consciously or not, the equation between religion, the patriarchy, and the repression of female sexual self-expression seems axiomatic to this new generation of feminist revolutionaries.

In hindsight it seems inevitable that real women would step up to the anima, since in substance it is not a mere projection of the male imagination but an actual, biological representation of innate feminine qualities, albeit (as I understand Jung’s thought) from a male perspective.

Femen make this clear, calling themselves “new Amazons” and adopting a militaristic discourse full of (what is taken to be) characteristically male imagery. But they are equally the symbolic heiresses of historical figures like Joan of Arc, constructed icons like Marianne, and the pantheon of female superheroes so beloved of pubescent boys, from Superwoman through an army of her ever more buxom and unclad avatars: often decried by feminists as sexualized stereotypes and screens for male projection and objectification of women, but in reality not only that: also a hommage to another, indubitably more empowered idea of woman.

The empowered, wild woman is erotically charged for men in a way her tamed sister can never be. This means one simple thing: the male erotic imagination is on the side of this force for social change. And, as women know, this is a very powerful ally.

That they are no longer afraid collectively to appeal to it in defense of their own interests (and of course in reality also of male interests, because humankind has only one set of real interests) represents a sea-change in the balance of power between the sexes. Ultimately, the more authentically we are ourselves, the closer we will come together; this process is naturally self-reinforcing.

What we see at this point of history are social institutions in the eye of a tornado, battered and starting to give way under the accumulated force of our repressed biological nature; they are so weakened that the moment is ripe for something quite new. Beyond their specific social agenda, whatever it may ultimately turn out to be or not to be, Femen points to the coming into being of a fundamentally new space in which conceptions of society will inevitably be reshaped.

Why eschewing religion is a prerequisite of spirituality

It is a glorious spring day in Brussels today, inviting to indulge a certain melancholy over the passage of time and the meaninglessness of existence.

In melancholy we sense, simultaneously, the beauty of both life and death; it may, if we let it, overwhelm us. But usually we are too frightened to let go.

This fear of being our mortal selves and clinging on to our misperception of separateness finds its origin in the survival instinct of animals. But although our biological nature impels us to seek to survive, it does not mandate fear when that survival is not threatened or simply because, ultimately, we all will die. Mortality anxiety takes root in a misformation of the ego.

Consciousness is not life without fear, but it is life without fear of fear. We know fear to be instinctive and survival to be a basic drive, but we also know that whether or not we survive, existence will go on. We know ourselves to be a tiny part of existence and this only now; and yet, if we are aware, a vital part, in a sense, however, which transcends vastly our self-identification.

Such awareness is the goal of spiritual practice; it is embodied spirituality. But our spiritual drive and our mortality anxiety are expertly captured and deviated by religion. Theistic religion promises an absurdity, namely the survival of the soul as a differentiated entity. In order to achieve this absurdity, devotees are ready to accept the most insane of sacrifices. Living is fully subordinate to an illusory survival. Even the Eastern doctrines of karma and reincarnation are not much different. Indeed they are possibly worse, since existence is seen as a chore which colossal efforts are required to escape.

Religion is not only the opium of the people; it is predatory on their enslavement and the sworn enemy of their emancipation. Today, take time to live, to experience one exquisite moment fully. The ecstatic character of life in which we partake is our birthright and the sole immensity there is.

Some words on marriage, by Shelley

We are already two centuries later. Hard to believe.

Not even the intercourse of the sexes is exempt from the despotism of positive institution. Law pretends even to govern the indisciplinable wanderings of passion, to put fetters on the clearest deductions of reason, and, by appeals to the will, to subdue the involuntary affections of our nature.

Love is inevitably consequent upon the perception of loveliness. Love withers under constraint: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear: it is there most pure, perfect, and unlimited, where its votaries live in confidence, equality, and unreserve.

How long then ought the sexual connection to last? what law ought to specify the extent of the grievances which should limit its duration? A husband and wife ought to continue so long united as they love each other: any law which should bind them to cohabitation for one moment after the decay of their affection would be a most intolerable tyranny, and the most unworthy of toleration. How odious an usurpation of the right of private judgement should that law be considered which should make the ties of friendship indissoluble, in spite of the caprices, the inconstancy, the fallibility, and capacity for improvement of the human mind. And by so much would the fetters of love be heavier and more unendurable than those of friendship, as love is more vehement and capricious, more dependent on those delicate peculiarities of imagination, and less capable of reduction to the ostensible merits of the object.

The state of society in which we exist is a mixture of feudal savageness and imperfect civilization. The narrow and unenlightened morality of the Christian religion is an aggravation of these evils. It is not even until lately that mankind have admitted that happiness is the sole end of the science of ethics, as of all other sciences; and that the fanatical idea of mortifying the flesh for the love of God has been discarded. …

But if happiness be the object of morality, of all human unions and disunions; if the worthiness of every action is to be estimated by the quantity of pleasurable sensation it is calculated to produce, then the connection of the sexes is so long sacred as it contributes to the comfort of the parties, and is naturally dissolved when its evils are greater than its benefits. There is nothing immoral in this separation. Constancy has nothing virtuous in itself, independently of the pleasure it confers, and partakes of the temporizing spirit of vice in proportion as it endures tamely moral defects of magnitude in the object of its indiscreet choice. Love is free: to promise for ever to love the same woman is not less absurd than to promise to believe the same creed: such a vow, in both cases, excludes us from all inquiry. The language of the votarist is this: The woman I now love may be infinitely inferior to many others; the creed I now profess may be a mass of errors and absurdities; but I exclude myself from all future information as to the amiability of the one and the truth of the other, resolving blindly, and in spite of conviction, to adhere to them. Is this the language of delicacy and reason? Is the love of such a frigid heart of more worth than its belief?

The present system of constraint does no more, in the majority of instances, than make hypocrites or open enemies. Persons of delicacy and virtue, unhappily united to one whom they find it impossible to love, spend the loveliest season of their life in unproductive efforts to appear otherwise than they are, for the sake of the feelings of their partner or the welfare of their mutual offspring: those of less generosity and refinement openly avow their disappointment, and linger out the remnant of that union, which only death can dissolve, in a state of incurable bickering and hostility. The early education of their children takes its colour from the squabbles of the parents; they are nursed in a systematic school of ill-humour, violence, and falsehood. Had they been suffered to part at the moment when indifference rendered their union irksome, they would have been spared many years of misery: they would have connected themselves more suitably, and would have found that happiness in the society of more congenial partners which is for ever denied them by the despotism of marriage. They would have been separately useful and happy members of society, who, whilst united, were miserable and rendered misanthropical by misery. The conviction that wedlock is indissoluble holds out the strongest of all temptations to the perverse: they indulge without restraint in acrimony, and all the little tyrannies of domestic life, when they know that their victim is without appeal. If this connection were put on a rational basis, each would be assured that habitual ill-temper would terminate in separation, and would check this vicious and dangerous propensity.

Prostitution is the legitimate offspring of marriage and its accompanying errors. Women, for no other crime than having followed the dictates of a natural appetite, are driven with fury from the comforts and sympathies of society. It is less venial than murder; and the punishment which is inflicted on her who destroys her child to escape reproach is lighter than the life of agony and disease to which the prostitute is irrecoverably doomed. Has a woman obeyed the impulse of unerring nature;— society declares war against her, pitiless and eternal war: she must be the tame slave, she must make no reprisals; theirs is the right of persecution, hers the duty of endurance. She lives a life of infamy: the loud and bitter laugh of scorn scares her from all return. She dies of long and lingering disease: yet SHE is in fault, SHE is the criminal, SHE the froward and untamable child,— and society, forsooth, the pure and virtuous matron, who casts her as an abortion from her undefiled bosom! Society avenges herself on the criminals of her own creation; she is employed in anathematizing the vice to-day, which yesterday she was the most zealous to teach. Thus is formed one-tenth of the population of London: meanwhile the evil is twofold. Young men, excluded by the fanatical idea of chastity from the society of modest and accomplished women, associate with these vicious and miserable beings, destroying thereby all those exquisite and delicate sensibilities whose existence cold-hearted worldlings have denied; annihilating all genuine passion, and debasing that to a selfish feeling which is the excess of generosity and devotedness. Their body and mind alike crumble into a hideous wreck of humanity; idiocy and disease become perpetuated in their miserable offspring, and distant generations suffer for the bigoted morality of their forefathers. Chastity is a monkish and evangelical superstition, a greater foe to natural temperance even than unintellectual sensuality; it strikes at the root of all domestic happiness, and consigns more than half of the human race to misery, that some few may monopolize according to law. A system could not well have been devised more studiously hostile to human happiness than marriage.

I conceive that from the abolition of marriage, the fit and natural arrangement of sexual connection would result. I by no means assert that the intercourse would be promiscuous: on the contrary, it appears, from the relation of parent to child, that this union is generally of long duration, and marked above all others with generosity and self-devotion. But this is a subject which it is perhaps premature to discuss. That which will result from the abolition of marriage will be natural and right; because choice and change will be exempted from restraint.

In fact, religion and morality, as they now stand, compose a practical code of misery and servitude: the genius of human happiness must tear every leaf from the accursed book of God ere man can read the inscription on his heart. How would morality, dressed up in stiff stays and finery, start from her own disgusting image should she look in the mirror of nature!—

(Notes on Queen Mab, 5.189)

Religion and Society

In the aftermath of the dissemination of the film Fitna by maverick Dutch politician Geert Wilders, La Libre Belgique, a Belgian newspaper, published an article containing certain reflections from teaching staff on the difficulties they claim they encounter on a daily basis with children from Muslim backgrounds in Belgian schools. This article claims that Muslim children reject certain “values” which are supposedly “core” to European society, and then goes on to make an amalgam between eating pork and celebrating Easter, and rejection of the principle of liberal education itself. It’s not a very enlightening piece, but it set me thinking.

Apparently “Islam is invoked as a value above the law”. And what is the Western canon of natural law based on? What did Thomas of Aquinas say? Are we sure we are in a world of positive law and value-free jurisprudence? Do we want to be?

I think it is fine and a good idea to defend some values. But certainly not by confusing what is important with what is necessarily culturally colored and doubtless – if it was spelt out – would include a lot of “values” that I categorically reject myself.

One contributor to this article is surprised that there is a “lack of demand for assimilation”. I wonder where in the world there is any such demand. Don’t we all want to be recognized for what makes us unique? Isn’t a minimum level of respect a precondition for dialogue and social life?

Finally, one Maroccan lady is cited as believing that society is giving up on the very values that motivated her to emigrate to Europe in the first place. This is banal apocalypticism, but hers is the only voice that evokes a certain sympathy.

This article is marked by a profound hatred of which its authors are certainly entirely unconscious and probably insufficiently self-critical to understand. It is not characterized by any of the values I suppose to underlie a liberal society. And this, precisely, is the problem – the problem the article identifies is in the minds of the ruling class, the established bourgeoisie, not in the minds of the rebels, who respond mechanically. There is, indeed, nothing to emulate or to respect in this type of attitude, and thus it is not surprising that it be rejected. I reject it myself; the only difference may be in what I would like to see in its place.

My position on this is as follows: trying to counteract the so-called (with vast exaggeration) “islamization” of society is not possible by opposing to it the weak compromises that humanism has historically made with religion in Europe and the New World and now is unable any longer to perceive. These compromises have led to a system of practical values which is far from universal in nature and, thus, unless we are prepared to revisit them, a certain level of conflict is inevitable. However, I am not against compromise between humanism and religion. To achieve this compromise we need to know what religion is. When we know what it is, we can respect it, and when we respect it, we can pass beyond it.

In this regard, we have to admire the French. The unrelenting doctrine of laicism in public life seems like a mantra at times, but when you realize that to get a decent education in Belgium you need to put up with crucifixes on the wall – a potent symbol of the one force in society that has systematically placed itself above science and debate and done a lot to hinder both – you start to appreciate what is at stake.

I would like to state that I am rather certain that Islam is, on balance, a positive rather than negative force in the life of Muslims by defending values that are worth defending and that we only fail to perceive because we take them in our society for granted. This blindness is devoid of historical perspective. Islam in the life of the state seems to be another matter entirely, as does Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism and (perhaps even) Buddhism in the life of the states that have given these religions a privileged position.

There are very good reasons why religion performs better in private piety than in institutions with coercive power. Religion plays a role as a repository of spiritual values, the values which are truly universal, like wonderment, respect, love. As a repository, it is opposable to the individual. This provides a corrective to other forces which may pull him or her in the direction of brutality. But it presupposes power, authority, bureaucracy; and thus at a certain point, for a certain individual, it hinders rather than assists spiritual growth and access to the source of the values from which religion itself springs. This trade-off occurs at different points for different religions in different places at different points. But it remains a trade-off. If we have no respect for what is true in the world’s religions, we have absolutely no position of moral authority from which to construct a social framework to support greater individual liberty and a more truly moral society.

If we want to achieve a better society in Europe given the fact of multiculturalism (and its indisputable benefits), there is only one thing to do, which Geert Wilders appears to have no inkling of. We need systematically to criticize, with immense love, feeling and respect, the role of the church and of Christianity itself in the making of our social institutions, both formal and informal, and make this criticism as public as we can.

In other words, we can only criticize our traditions, we cannot criticize others’ on their behalf. Only then are they likely to respect us and to perceive, in the construction of a just society, a common labor and a common goal.