Book Review: Incorrectly Political: Augustine and Thomas More

I readily admit that political philosophy or Christian political philosophy have not been great interests of mine. Except for reading Plato's Dialogues and excerpts from the Republic in philosophy classes or Cicero's works in rhetoric classes in college, I haven't delved much into the field. I have read Thomas More's Utopia but not Augustine's City of God. A small group of friends and I have been reading The Consolation of Philosophy, so I've dipped into Boethius's thoughts about philosophers and good men getting involved in government--and Robert R. Reilly's recent book about the founding of the USA has been a big influence on me lately.

While exploring Thomas More's philosophy, wondering if his interest in the New Learning had led him to Nominalism, I noted that he had given lectures on the City of God circa 1501 and thus found this book, Incorrectly Political: Augustine and Thomas More by Peter Iver Kaufman.

Incorrectly Political, a copy of which I purchased--a remainder I presume because of the price--was published by the University of Notre Dame Press in 2007:

Peter Iver Kaufman explains how and why we have failed to appreciate Augustine’s and More’s profound political pessimism and thereby reintroduces readers to two of the Christian tradition’s most enigmatic yet influential figures. Each knew that government was useful—yet always deceitful. And each wrote a classic widely read to this day, Augustine’s City of God and More’s Utopia, as well as abundant correspondence and polemical tracts to explain why government on earth might be used, though never meaningfully improved.

You may read a sample of it here, via the University of Richmond Scholarship Repository.

The Table of Contents (including subheads):

Acknowledgements

Introduction

1. Augustine, Ambrose, and Ambition

• Christianity?
• Ambrose and Power
• A Word Peddler's New Purpose
• The Bishop Looks Back
• The Crisis at Calama

2. Limitations

• Augustine's Court
• "In the Face of Evil Days"
• "The Enemies of Grace"

3. Using Government: Augustine and the Donatists

• Secession
• Protection and Correction: Augustine and the Failure of Argument
• Thugs
• That the Government Should Be Used

4. Used But Not Improved: Augustine's "City of God"

• Martyrs
• "Love Not the World"
• Libido Dominandi
• "Mark the Contrasts"
• Other "Beginnings" with Different Ends

5. Thomas More: At Work in the World

• Becoming Useful
• Ambitions and Illusions
• More, Pico, and Erasmus

6. Utopia?

• Hythloday on Power and Integrity
• Wordplay
• Social Control
• Omnia Omnium
• Genuine Justice, Nowhere and Never

7. Crisis

• Promotion and Commotion
• "The Comon Knowen Catholyke Fayth" and the Church
• "Divisions"
• Henry VIII's Matrimonial Matter and God's "Greate Cause"
• Discomfort
• Politics in "This Time of Teares"
• Endgame

Conclusion

Notes

Index

As described in the blurb, Kaufman's main point is that both Saint Augustine of Hippo and Saint Thomas More acknowledged that public affairs, government administration, and participation in the government and the courts were dangerous, but necessary, to the individual and the community. Saint Augustine served as the bishop of Hippo when the Emperor Theodosius reigned; Roman government was still mixed up with Roman pagan religion even though Catholicism had become the official religion of the State. Pagan rites and feasts were still part of the public life of the Empire and Augustine warned Catholics serving in public office not to participate in those pagan leftovers. But Augustine also wanted the government to defend Catholic teaching, helping him deal with the Pelagian and Donatist heretics--especially to defend Catholic churches the Donatists attacked because they did not accept the succession of the bishops or the ordinations of the priests by those bishops--who were dividing Catholics in his diocese. As a parallel to Saint Thomas More centuries later, Kaufman notes that Saint Augustine's written apologetics for Catholic teaching on grace and forgiveness needed the backing of the State: persuasion only went so far.

There are other parallels between Augustine and More: both were judges--Augustine in his episcopal court; More as Chancellor; both had some ambition to make their mark in the world--Augustine as a rhetorician; More as a lawyer and an official; both indicate ambivalence regarding their active, public lives: Augustine in his long process of conversion and his desire for a contemplative, monastic life; More through his comments to family and friends, his discernment of a religious vocation, and his pattern of meditation, prayer, and asceticism (the famous hair shirt).

As noted above, I've never read the City of God so cannot judge Kaufman's summary and explication of that great work. On the one hand, Augustine wanted to defend Catholics from the pagan attacks that Christianity had weakened Rome leading to its sacking by Alaric and on the other, he wanted to remind Catholics that this world was not their true home. Heaven is their/our true home: however much we participate in this world to try to make it better for others and ourselves, to try to defend true Catholic teaching, etc., we must realize that we should "Love Not the World."

With the chapters on Thomas More, I'm on more familiar ground. In addition to Augustine and More, Kaufman cites both Saint Ambrose of Milan and Erasmus of Rotterdam because of their influences on these two great men. Saint Ambrose because of his (somewhat distant) example; Erasmus because of how he encouraged and supported More's humanistic studies, organizing praise for More's Utopia among other humanists for example (16th century blurbs for that book!). Kaufman sometimes questions Erasmus' analysis of More, however, as when he casts doubts on the Erasmian interpretation of More's discernment of religious life--a misunderstanding that would only increase as More fought heresy and accepted martyrdom. Kaufman takes a nice swipe at Richard Marius, who presented an image of More as a repressed sexual neurotic in his 1983 biography of More when he notes that even though no trace of More's carefully presented lectures on the City of God has survived, Marius knows what influence Augustine had on More's decision to get married!

Describing More's rise in England's public affairs and Henry VIII's court, Kaufman also addresses More's realism about his vulnerability in such positions, like the famous comment to his son-in-law Roper that Henry VIII would have More's head cut off if it would gain the king a castle in France. In both the chapter on Utopia and the chapter on More's last years in Henry VIII's service and then in the Tower, Kaufman emphasizes that More was warning both the international humanist community and the English religious community that things are not as they seemed. Some of the improvements and advancements Erasmus and his followers wanted could only come through great community control and loss of individual freedom. The religious changes urged by Martin Luther and his followers in England and abroad (the supposed moderate Germain, the socially concerned Fish, and the Bible translating Tyndale) would lead to social upheavals that Henry VIII had not imagined and would not approve. More held on to hoping for Henry's understanding of these dangers even after he'd left the king's service and until his imprisonment in the Tower of London. Then he determined as he told Cromwell (and his daughter Meg in the letter he sent her describing one of his interrogations in the Tower) that he would leave off involvement in worldly affairs and think only of the Passion of Jesus Christ and his own preparation for death. Before that he wrote extensive and sometimes exhaustive attacks on Lutheran ideas, Fish's proposals, etc--and he applied the heresy laws of England as Chancellor, trusting for a time that he had Henry's consent and support (silence: Henry never told him to stop: consent).

I found interesting that Kaufman quotes More in 16th century English but does not cite Augustine in 4th/5th century Latin! One of the blurbs for this book in 2007 mentioned its timeliness in view of world affairs at that time; I might also say that it's timely for me to read this book in an election year. As a Catholic Christian, my devotion and assent to Church teaching influences the way I evaluate candidates and especially what they can or should and what they can't or shouldn't do while in office representing me. Augustine and More are still good guides for understanding the limitations and the necessity of government and public administration. 

More's Many Faces? One More Time

Joanne Paul has written a book about Thomas More for the Classic Thinkers series published by Wiley that will be available in just a few days:

Thomas More remains one of the most enigmatic thinkers in history, due in large part to the enduring mysteries surrounding his best-known work, Utopia. He has been variously thought of as a reformer and a conservative, a civic humanist and a devout Christian, a proto-communist and a monarchical absolutist. His work spans contemporary disciplines from history to politics to literature, and his ideas have variously been taken up by seventeenth-century reformers and nineteenth-century communists.

Through a comprehensive treatment of More's writing, from his earliest poetry to his reflections on suffering in the Tower of London, Joanne Paul engages with both the rich variety and some of the fundamental consistencies that run throughout More's works. In particular, Paul highlights More's concern with the destruction of what is held 'in common', whether it be in the commonwealth or in the body of the church. In so doing, she re-establishes More's place in the history of political thought, tracing the reception of his ideas to the present day.

Paul's book serves as an essential foundation for any student encountering More's writing for the first time, as well as providing an innovative reconsideration of the place of his works in the history of ideas.

One of the blurbs, by historian Suzanne Lipscomb, praises the book for having one, united view of More:

"For too long, there have been multiple Mores: Thomas More the 'man for all seasons' has also seemed to be a man of many faces: More's identities as a statesman, humanist, and saint have seemed riven from each other and bafflingly incompatible. In this brilliant, lucid, and pithy account, Joanne Paul reunites More with himself by identifying the central idea that animated his thought and action. This is an original and illuminating work that should be compulsory for any reader of Utopia."

But then, in a post for History Today, Paul seems to divide More again:

2016 is the year of Utopia, marking 500 years since the publication of Thomas More’s influential text. Central to the celebrations is a timely re-evaluation of the man who stands behind the enigmatic masterpiece. More’s reputation has ranged from saintly scholar to sex-crazed zealot, with Robert Bolt’s A Man for All Seasons and Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall bringing each of these visions to life, albeit almost 60 years apart. 

It is 500 years since the publication of Utopia, but it is also 50 years since the release of the Oscar-winning film based on Bolt’s play (first performed in London in 1950). Of course, neither Bolt nor Mantel is entirely accurate; that is what makes their work fiction. What is interesting is what the deviations from historical record in A Man for All Seasons tell us about Bolt’s time. This raises the question: if Bolt’s 1950s needed More the defender of individual conscience, why do we need More the zealous persecutor of heretics?

Bolt's More; Mantel's More; Paul's More; my More; your More: can't we just have one More? Or can't we just accept that Thomas More, like every other human being ever born, is complex and contradictory, both great and fallen, both a success and failure at what he loved and wanted the most? (Well, except for Jesus Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary, who were sinless!)

Does every generation really "get the More it needs" or does someone create a More for his or her own purpose? Instead of looking at the different views of More, shouldn't we just look at More?

There They Go Again: the Saint or Sinner Choice

It will be a couple of weeks before I'll see the May 2016 issue of the BBC History Magazine at our local Barnes & Noble, but their cover story, by Joanne Paul, has the headline I'm tired of seeing, posing a poor question: "Thomas More: Saint or Sinner?" If it must be answered, it's simple: "Both". The Catholic Church never says that a saint is not a sinner or that a sinner cannot become a saint. Moral perfection is not a requirement, although of course the desire never to be separated from God is necessary for sanctity. 

The subtitle is also interesting: "The real character of Henry VIII's controversial statesman". That second adjective, "controversial", could apply to almost all of Henry VIII's statesmen, Wolsey, Cromwell, Wriothesley, etc. I eagerly await this article by Joanne Paul, who is working on a monograph for Wiley's Polity Classic Thinkers Series and other works considering More as a statesman, according to her website:

Thomas More's works are analysed in history, politics, literature, philosophy and theology departments throughout the world. He remains one of history's most alluring and enigmatic figures - his reputation fiercely debated since the moment of his execution in 1535.

My monograph on More focuses on his place within the history of political and philosophic thought, and will be published as a part of Polity's Classic Thinkers Series, October 2016, coinciding with the quincentary of More's most famous text, Utopia (1516). I have published on Utopia in History Today (April, 2016), and I am currently developing a monograph on Utopia for Palgrave, at the request of the editors.

You can be sure that I'll let you know what I think of this article once I obtain the magazine. In the meantime, I have a little bit of a lull before starting on two projects for June (one article and one presentation), a presentation in July, and one in August--and then a nice break until November, when I'll teach a class at the Regan Catechetical Institute for Catholic teachers in the Diocese of Wichita. 

Defending "Utopia"

December 2016 will mark the 500th anniversary of the publication of Thomas More's Utopia. In History Today, Joanne Paul writes about the place of Utopia in More's reputation as a statesman:

It may be time, however, to reassess the place of More’s Utopia in this litany of his shortcomings. This year we have an opportunity to do so, as it marks the quincentenary of the publication of Utopia in Louvain in December 1516.

Guy suggests that More’s imaginary country is ‘totalitarian par excellence’, citing its lack of pubs, brothels and ‘secret meeting place[s]’, as well as the mandate against discussion of public policy outside of the popular assembly. This totalitarianism, Guy suggests, lies at the heart of More’s later attitude towards heretics and suggests that his ‘repressive discipline’ against them was similar to the ‘totalitarianism of Utopia’.

Describing Utopia as totalitarian (a 20th-century term) paves over what More was attempting to do in his text, which was to remind his readers of the importance of community. For More, the prioritisation of self-interest had the effect of tearing apart the bonds that ought to unite people. To use examples from Utopia: land-owners who enclosed common land for sheep-grazing, or greedy kings who overstretched themselves in their conquest of new lands both tore apart the unity of the commonwealth. The island of Utopia becomes the inverse of such tendencies. Homes are allocated to families for only a decade at a time, there are no locked doors and no personal possessions.

Rather than totalitarian, Utopia is fundamentally republican. Like property, political power is shared, reflecting More’s belief that authority resides in the body of the people. Within Utopia’s cities, households elect representatives who, in turn, elect both the councillors and their prince. Council and prince together make decisions in regular consultation with the people. The country as a whole is ruled by a general council, the members of which are, once again, elected directly by the people. Thus, although discussing public matters outside the public forum is punishable by death, for fear of the division and distortion of public opinion, the people are directly involved in every political decision made on the island.

Read the rest there.

More lived in a kingdom ruled by a monarch and he served that monarch while also representing the people as a member of Parliament. He wanted his prince, Henry VIII, to make decisions for the kingdom in consultation with Parliament, and therefore he defended Parliament's right to free speech in debating the king's policies and voting on the funding of the same. The Center for Thomas More Studies offers many tools for the interpretation of Utopia here.

St. Thomas More on How a Christian Responds to Suffering

In the Introduction to this edition of A Dialogue of Comfort Against Tribulation from Scepter Publishers, Gerard Wegemer comments that this English masterpiece of Thomas More is less well known than his famous Latin work, Utopia. That's because Utopia has been translated from Latin into accessible English while this Dialogue's Renaissance era English has been an obstacle. So this "translation" into modern English by Mary Gottschalk is very helpful, as are the indices, outline, and other supporting material.

There are two good reasons for reading this book:

First, because of its content and purpose: explaining how Christians should respond to trials, suffering, poverty, and even persecution. Uncle Anthony helps his nephew Vincent deal with his fears of suffering in the course of the Turkish invasion of Hungary. While he is on his sickbed, he counsels the younger man on facing those fears by relying on his faith in Jesus Christ. Anthony and Vincent discuss many aspects of life on earth: poverty, riches, ambition, power, charity, the four last things (death, judgment, Heaven, and hell), purgatory, repentance, torture, imprisonment, etc. In every situation, Anthony reminds Vincent that our time here on earth is short and that what really matters is how we prepare for the life to come. Blessed John Henry Newman offers a famous summary of what Anthony tells Vincent: "Life is short; death is certain; and the world to come is everlasting." Ever tribulation we may suffer should be considered in the context of eternal life. We have to imitate the early Christians as described in the Letter to Diognetus:

Christians are indistinguishable from other men either by nationality, language or customs. They do not inhabit separate cities of their own, or speak a strange dialect, or follow some outlandish way of life. Their teaching is not based upon reveries inspired by the curiosity of men. Unlike some other people, they champion no purely human doctrine. With regard to dress, food and manner of life in general, they follow the customs of whatever city they happen to be living in, whether it is Greek or foreign.

And yet there is something extraordinary about their lives. They live in their own countries as though they were only passing through. They play their full role as citizens, but labor under all the disabilities of aliens. Any country can be their homeland, but for them their homeland, wherever it may be, is a foreign country. Like others, they marry and have children, but they do not expose them. They share their meals, but not their wives.

They live in the flesh, but they are not governed by the desires of the flesh. They pass their days upon earth, but they are citizens of heaven. . . . 

We all face tribulation: my brother and sister and I have been helping our elderly mother settle into a nursing home. The transition may have been easier for her than it has been for us; a little thing like cancelling her phone service and eliminating our parents' home phone number for the past 56 years and more is troubling to us--and there are bigger things to come with the dissolution of our family home. But as I've read this dialogue, I'm reminded that these little burdens, oppressive as they might seem to us, are nothing compared to the joys of the life to come. Our bearing them with patience and fortitude prepares us for those joys, detaches us from our life here on earth, and reminds us that we have no lasting city here on earth. Much as we love our life, love all our family and friends, love the earth and nature, our true and first love must be for God--He loved us first, He wants what is best for us; we should and must trust Him.

Second, because reading this dialogue, which Gerard Wegemer calls one of More's greatest works in the introduction, helps the reader appreciate the wit and wisdom of Thomas More. Throughout the text, he demonstrates his knowledge of Scripture and the teaching of the Church. He also displays great experience both in secular life and in the spiritual life, understanding the realities of public life and the depths of private life. More knows the weaknesses of humanity: one example is his description of sinners kept awake by the thought of their sins and the need to amend their lives. Finally, they turn over their pillows, plump them up a little, get comfortable, and go back to sleep! More is also aware of the pitfalls of power and influence; no matter how much power and control a statesman may achieve, unless he is the monarch, there will be someone else who tells him what to do and how. Even as he fulfills his ambition to achieve higher and higher rank, he still encounters setbacks and tribulations. 

By using the dialogue form, writing a fictional conversation between two characters, More thoroughly explores the themes of suffering and comfort. He also displays his humor through funny stories about people, like the nun who talks so much that her visiting brother can't get a word in; or the doctor who can cure others but not himself; or the prisoner who notes the incongruity of a visitor who locks herself in every night in her own house being upset that he is locked in his cell every night, or the man who plans to please him self during his life, planning to say words of repentance at the last moment to safe himself: his last words are "Well, I'll be damned", etc.

If we read this dialogue for its autobiographical insight, it shows us that Thomas More--just as he did in The Sadness of Christ and just as he told Cromwell and his daughter Meg--was distancing himself from worldly cares and preparing for death. He was thinking about Jesus in His Passion and how he should imitate his Savior. Many of the anecdotes are about his family, including his wife Alice and adopted ward, Meg Giggs, so he was thinking about them too.

Highly recommended. Scepter only has a few copies left, so order today!

What Did Thomas More Mean in "Utopia"?

Stephen Smith looks at Thomas More's Utopia in The Wall Street Journal, in its weekly Masterpiece column:

For some, "Utopia" provides a witty education in human nature for citizens and leaders, especially those who want to be "well and wisely trained." For others, "Utopia" heralds the glorious liberty of communism to come, or so the makers of Moscow's Memorial Obelisk thought when they engraved More's name there in 1918. In More's own words, Utopia is "a truly golden book, no less profitable than delightful," but what kind of education does this book really offer? While the word "Utopia" has long been shorthand for any ideal world, a careful reading of More's book offers a complex, and better, view.

Born in London in 1478, More distinguished himself in family life and friendship, in professional work and politics. Called by Erasmus "the only true genius in England," More published "Utopia" in Latin in 1516. He then entered King Henry VIII's service, and eventually became Lord Chancellor. During his maturity, the drama of Henry's divorce and the Reformation engulfed England. A supporter of neither, and a defender of English law, ancient liberty and the Catholic faith, More resigned his public office in 1532 after a controversial tenure. Later imprisoned, he was convicted of treason and sentenced to death in 1535. His last words—"I die the king's good servant, and God's first"—attest that he had served his old friend Henry with integrity throughout the storms.

Smith, a professor in English Literature at Hillsdale College, provides a summary of the conversation at the heart of Utopia and then concludes:

Surprisingly, "Utopia" concludes not with a cross-examination of Raphael, but with More thinking to himself that Utopia sounds "really absurd," a point often missed by those who wish to embrace its radical policies. Unsure that Raphael can "take contradiction in these matters," More decides to lead him to dinner instead. For Raphael, Utopia is over, and he may have placed himself beyond the reach of friendship, though More's charity creates hope. For readers, we are left with the challenge of responding to Raphael's claims and examining the sources of our own thoughts and first principles—and indeed, the clarity of our own self-knowledge. For Thomas More, his truly golden meditation on service and Utopia would meet its end only years later, alone atop a scaffold on Tower Hill.

Read the rest here. That last paragraph reminded me of Pope Benedict XVI's address to Politicians, Diplomats, Academics and Business Leaders in Westminster Hall, City of Westminster, on Friday,  September 17, 2010:

In particular, I recall the figure of Saint Thomas More, the great English scholar and statesman, who is admired by believers and non-believers alike for the integrity with which he followed his conscience, even at the cost of displeasing the sovereign whose “good servant” he was, because he chose to serve God first. The dilemma which faced More in those difficult times, the perennial question of the relationship between what is owed to Caesar and what is owed to God, allows me the opportunity to reflect with you briefly on the proper place of religious belief within the political process. . .  .

And yet the fundamental questions at stake in Thomas More’s trial continue to present themselves in ever-changing terms as new social conditions emerge. Each generation, as it seeks to advance the common good, must ask anew: what are the requirements that governments may reasonably impose upon citizens, and how far do they extend? By appeal to what authority can moral dilemmas be resolved? These questions take us directly to the ethical foundations of civil discourse. If the moral principles underpinning the democratic process are themselves determined by nothing more solid than social consensus, then the fragility of the process becomes all too evident - herein lies the real challenge for democracy.