Book 4, Chapter 8
Civil Religion
At first men had no kings save the gods, and no government save theocracy. They reasoned like Caligula, and, at that period, reasoned aright. It takes a long time for feeling so to change that men can make up their minds to take their equals as masters, in the hope that they will profit by doing so.
At first, people had no kings except the gods, and no government except theocracy, or rule by the gods. People reasoned like Caligula, and at that time, their reasoning was right. People's feelings take a long time to change enough for them to accept their equals as masters. They do so in the hope of benefiting from it.
From the mere fact that God was set over every political society, it followed that there were as many gods as peoples. Two peoples that were strangers the one to the other, and almost always enemies, could not long recognise the same master: two armies giving battle could not obey the same leader. National divisions thus led to polytheism, and this in turn gave rise to theological and civil intolerance, which, as we shall see hereafter, are by nature the same.
Because God was placed over every political society, there were as many gods as there were peoples. Two peoples who were strangers to each other, and almost always enemies, could not recognize the same master for long. Two armies fighting each other could not obey the same leader. So divisions between nations led to polytheism, which in turn gave rise to religious and civil intolerance. As we shall see later, these two forms of intolerance are the same by nature.
The fancy the Greeks had for rediscovering their gods among the barbarians arose from the way they had of regarding themselves as the natural Sovereigns of such peoples. But there is nothing so absurd as the erudition which in our days identifies and confuses gods of different nations. As if Moloch, Saturn and Chronos could be the same god! As if the Phœnician Baal, the Greek Zeus, and the Latin Jupiter could be the same! As if there could still be anything common to imaginary beings with different names!
The Greeks liked to rediscover their own gods among the barbarians because they saw themselves as those peoples’ natural rulers. But nothing is more absurd than today’s scholarship that treats the gods of different nations as one and the same. As if Moloch, Saturn and Chronos could be the same god! As if the Phœnician Baal, the Greek Zeus, and the Latin Jupiter could be the same! As if imaginary beings with different names could still have anything in common!
If it is asked how in pagan times, where each State had its cult and its gods, there were no wars of religion, I answer that it was precisely because each State, having its own cult as well as its own government, made no distinction between its gods and its laws. Political war was also theological; the provinces of the gods were, so to speak, fixed by the boundaries of nations. The god of one people had no right over another. The gods of the pagans were not jealous gods; they shared among themselves the empire of the world: even Moses and the Hebrews sometimes lent themselves to this view by speaking of the God of Israel. It is true, they regarded as powerless the gods of the Canaanites, a proscribed people condemned to destruction, whose place they were to take; but remember how they spoke of the divisions of the neighbouring peoples they were forbidden to attack! "Is not the possession of what belongs to your god Chamos lawfully your due?" said Jephthah to the Ammonites. "We have the same title to the lands our conquering God has made his own." Here, I think, there is a recognition that the rights of Chamos and those of the God of Israel are of the same nature.
If someone asks why there were no religious wars in pagan times, when each State had its own religion and gods, my answer is this: each State had its own religion and government, so it made no distinction between its gods and its laws. Political war was also religious war. The gods’ territories were, so to speak, defined by national borders. One people’s god had no authority over another people. The pagan gods were not jealous gods. They shared rule over the world among themselves. Even Moses and the Hebrews sometimes accepted this view by speaking of the God of Israel. True, the Hebrews considered the gods of the Canaanites powerless. The Canaanites were an outlawed people condemned to destruction, whose place the Hebrews were to take. But remember how the Hebrews spoke of the territories of neighboring peoples they were forbidden to attack! "Isn't the land belonging to your god Chamos rightfully yours?" Jephthah asked the Ammonites. "We have the same right to the lands our conquering God has made his own." Here, I think, the rights of Chamos and those of the God of Israel are recognized as the same kind.
Nonne ea quæ possidet Chamos deus tuus, tibi jure debentur? (Judges xi. 24). This is the wording in the Vulgate. Father de Carrières translates: "Do you not regard yourselves as having a right to what your god possesses?" I do not know the precise meaning of the Hebrew text. But in the Vulgate, Jephthah clearly recognizes the right of the god Chamos. The French translator weakened this admission by adding an "according to you," which is absent from the Latin.
But when the Jews, being subject to the kings of Babylon, and, subsequently, to those of Syria, still obstinately refused to recognise any god save their own, their refusal was regarded as rebellion against their conqueror, and drew down on them the persecutions we read of in their history, which are without parallel till the coming of Christianity.
But the Jews, ruled first by the kings of Babylon and later by those of Syria, remained stubborn. They refused to recognize any god but their own. Their refusal was seen as rebellion against their conqueror, bringing on them the persecutions described in their history. These persecutions had no parallel until the coming of Christianity.
Clearly, the Phocian war, called "the Sacred War," was not a religious war. Its purpose was to punish acts of sacrilege, not to conquer unbelievers.
Every religion, therefore, being attached solely to the laws of the State which prescribed it, there was no way of converting a people except by enslaving it, and there could be no missionaries save conquerors. The obligation to change cults being the law to which the vanquished yielded, it was necessary to be victorious before suggesting such a change. So far from men fighting for the gods, the gods, as in Homer, fought for men; each asked his god for victory, and repayed him with new altars. The Romans, before taking a city, summoned its gods to quit it; and, in leaving the Tarentines their outraged gods, they regarded them as subject to their own and compelled to do them homage. They left the vanquished their gods as they left them their laws. A wreath to the Jupiter of the Capitol was often the only tribute they imposed.
Every religion, therefore, was tied solely to the laws of the State that established it. So the only way to convert a people was to enslave them, and the only missionaries were conquerors. The defeated were legally bound to change their worship, so conquest had to come before anyone could propose that change. Far from men fighting for the gods, the gods fought for men, as in Homer. Each man asked his god for victory and repaid him with new altars. Before taking a city, the Romans called on its gods to leave. When the Romans left the Tarentines their outraged gods, they considered those gods subject to the Roman gods. The Tarentines' gods were therefore required to pay homage to the Roman gods. The Romans let conquered peoples keep their gods, just as they let them keep their laws. A wreath for the Jupiter of the Capitol was often the only tribute the Romans demanded.
Finally, when, along with their empire, the Romans had spread their cult and their gods, and had themselves often adopted those of the vanquished, by granting to both alike the rights of the city, the peoples of that vast empire insensibly found themselves with multitudes of gods and cults, everywhere almost the same; and thus paganism throughout the known world finally came to be one and the same religion.
Finally, the Romans spread their worship and their gods along with their empire. They also often adopted the gods of conquered peoples, granting both sets of gods the same rights of citizenship. As a result, the peoples of that vast empire gradually found themselves with many gods and forms of worship. These were almost the same everywhere. And so paganism throughout the known world finally became one and the same religion.
It was in these circumstances that Jesus came to set up on earth a spiritual kingdom, which, by separating the theological from the political system, made the State no longer one, and brought about the internal divisions which have never ceased to trouble Christian peoples. As the new idea of a kingdom of the other world could never have occurred to pagans, they always looked on the Christians as really rebels, who, while feigning to submit, were only waiting for the chance to make themselves independent and their masters, and to usurp by guile the authority they pretended in their weakness to respect. This was the cause of the persecutions.
Under these circumstances, Jesus came to establish a spiritual kingdom on earth. By separating religion from politics, this kingdom broke the State’s unity. This separation caused internal divisions that have never stopped troubling Christian peoples. Since the idea of a kingdom in another world could never have occurred to pagans, they always saw Christians as rebels. Pagans believed Christians only pretended to obey their rulers while waiting for a chance to become independent and rule them. In the pagan view, Christians wanted to seize power through deception. While weak, Christians pretended to respect that power. This belief caused the persecutions.
What the pagans had feared took place. Then everything changed its aspect: the humble Christians changed their language, and soon this so-called kingdom of the other world turned, under a visible leader, into the most violent of earthly despotisms.
What the pagans had feared happened. Then everything changed: the humble Christians changed their tone. Soon, under a visible leader, this so-called kingdom of the next world became the most violent tyranny on earth.
However, as there have always been a prince and civil laws, this double power and conflict of jurisdiction have made all good polity impossible in Christian States; and men have never succeeded in finding out whether they were bound to obey the master or the priest.
However, there have always been a prince and civil laws alongside religious authority. Because of this divided power and conflicting authority, all good government has been impossible in Christian States. And people have never been able to determine whether they were bound to obey the ruler or the priest.
Several peoples, however, even in Europe and its neighbourhood, have desired without success to preserve or restore the old system: but the spirit of Christianity has everywhere prevailed. The sacred cult has always remained or again become independent of the Sovereign, and there has been no necessary link between it and the body of the State. Mahomet held very sane views, and linked his political system well together; and, as long as the form of his government continued under the caliphs who succeeded him, that government was indeed one, and so far good. But the Arabs, having grown prosperous, lettered, civilised, slack and cowardly, were conquered by barbarians: the division between the two powers began again; and, although it is less apparent among the Mahometans than among the Christians, it none the less exists, especially in the sect of Ali, and there are States, such as Persia, where it is continually making itself felt.
Several peoples, however, even in and around Europe, have tried unsuccessfully to preserve or restore the old system. But the spirit of Christianity has prevailed everywhere. Religious worship has always remained independent of the Sovereign or become independent again. There has been no necessary link between religious worship and the State itself. Mahomet had very sound views and made his political system work as a coherent whole. As long as his form of government continued under the caliphs who succeeded him, the government was genuinely united. To that extent, it was good. But the Arabs grew prosperous, educated, civilised, undisciplined and cowardly, and were conquered by barbarians. The division between religious and political power then reappeared. Although this division is less obvious among the Mahometans than among Christians, it still exists, especially in the sect of Ali. And in some States, such as Persia, this division continually makes itself felt.
Among us, the Kings of England have made themselves heads of the Church, and the Czars have done the same: but this title has made them less its masters than its ministers; they have gained not so much the right to change it, as the power to maintain it: they are not its legislators, but only its princes. Wherever the clergy is a corporate body, it is master and legislator in its own country. There are thus two powers, two Sovereigns, in England and in Russia, as well as elsewhere.
Among us, the Kings of England have made themselves heads of the Church, and the Czars have done the same. But this title has made these rulers less the Church’s masters than its servants. They have gained not so much the right to change the Church as the power to preserve it. They do not make the Church’s laws but serve only as its princes. Wherever the clergy forms an organized body, the clergy rules and makes laws in its own country. So England and Russia, like other countries, have two powers, two Sovereigns.
Note that the clergy are united less by formal assemblies than by communion among Churches. Communion and excommunication form the clergy’s social compact. This compact will always make the clergy masters of peoples and kings. All priests in communion with one another are fellow citizens, even if they come from opposite ends of the earth. This invention is a masterpiece of political skill. Nothing like it exists among pagan priests, who have therefore never formed a unified clerical body.
Of all Christian writers, the philosopher Hobbes alone has seen the evil and how to remedy it, and has dared to propose the reunion of the two heads of the eagle, and the restoration throughout of political unity, without which no State or government will ever be rightly constituted. But he should have seen that the masterful spirit of Christianity is incompatible with his system, and that the priestly interest would always be stronger than that of the State. It is not so much what is false and terrible in his political theory, as what is just and true, that has drawn down hatred on it.
Of all Christian writers, only the philosopher Hobbes has seen the problem and how to solve it. He alone has dared to propose reuniting the eagle’s two heads and fully restoring political unity. Without that unity, no State or government will ever be properly organized. But he should have seen that Christianity’s drive to dominate is incompatible with his system. He should also have seen that the interests of the priesthood would always outweigh those of the State. His political theory has attracted hatred less for what is false and terrible than for what is right and true.
See, for example, Grotius’s letter to his brother (April 11, 1643). It shows what that learned man praised and criticized in De Cive. Admittedly, Grotius seems inclined to forgive the writer’s good points for the sake of his bad ones. But not everyone is so forgiving.
I believe that if the study of history were developed from this point of view, it would be easy to refute the contrary opinions of Bayle and Warburton, one of whom holds that religion can be of no use to the body politic, while the other, on the contrary, maintains that Christianity is its strongest support. We should demonstrate to the former that no State has ever been founded without a religious basis, and to the latter, that the law of Christianity at bottom does more harm by weakening than good by strengthening the constitution of the State. To make myself understood, I have only to make a little more exact the too vague ideas of religion as relating to this subject.
I believe that studying history from this perspective would make it easy to refute the opposing views of Bayle and Warburton. Bayle holds that religion can be of no use to the State. Warburton, by contrast, maintains that Christianity is the State’s strongest support. We would show Bayle that no State has ever been founded without a religious basis. We would show Warburton that Christian law ultimately weakens the State’s constitution more than it strengthens it. The harm therefore outweighs the good. To make my meaning clear, I only need to define more precisely the overly vague ideas about religion in this context.
Religion, considered in relation to society, which is either general or particular, may also be divided into two kinds: the religion of man, and that of the citizen. The first, which has neither temples, nor altars, nor rites, and is confined to the purely internal cult of the supreme God and the eternal obligations of morality, is the religion of the Gospel pure and simple, the true theism, what may be called natural divine right or law. The other, which is codified in a single country, gives it its gods, its own tutelary patrons; it has its dogmas, its rites, and its external cult prescribed by law; outside the single nation that follows it, all the world is in its sight infidel, foreign and barbarous; the duties and rights of man extend for it only as far as its own altars. Of this kind were all the religions of early peoples, which we may define as civil or positive divine right or law.
Religion, viewed in relation to society in general or to a particular society, may also be divided into two kinds. These are the religion of the individual and the religion of the citizen. The first has no temples, altars, or rituals. It consists only of inward worship of the supreme God and the eternal duties of morality. It is the religion of the Gospel, pure and simple, and true theism. It may be called natural divine right or law. The second is established by law in a single country and gives that country its gods and protecting patrons. It has its doctrines, rituals, and public worship, all prescribed by law. It regards everyone outside the single nation that follows it as unbelievers, foreigners, and barbarians. For this religion, human duties and rights extend only as far as its own altars. All the religions of early peoples were of this kind. We may define them as civil or positive divine right or law.
There is a third sort of religion of a more singular kind, which gives men two codes of legislation, two rulers, and two countries, renders them subject to contradictory duties, and makes it impossible for them to be faithful both to religion and to citizenship. Such are the religions of the Lamas and of the Japanese, and such is Roman Christianity, which may be called the religion of the priest. It leads to a sort of mixed and anti-social code which has no name.
There is a third, more unusual kind of religion. It gives people two sets of laws, two rulers, and two countries, placing them under conflicting duties. This makes it impossible for them to be faithful both to their religion and to their duties as citizens. The religions of the Lamas and of the Japanese are of this kind. So is Roman Christianity, which may be called the religion of the priest. This kind of religion produces a mixed and antisocial code that has no name.
In their political aspect, all these three kinds of religion have their defects. The third is so clearly bad, that it is waste of time to stop to prove it such. All that destroys social unity is worthless; all institutions that set man in contradiction to himself are worthless.
Politically, all three kinds of religion have flaws. The third is so clearly bad that proving it would be a waste of time. Anything that destroys social unity is worthless. All institutions that put people in conflict with themselves are worthless.
The second is good in that it unites the divine cult with love of the laws, and, making country the object of the citizens' adoration, teaches them that service done to the State is service done to its tutelary god. It is a form of theocracy, in which there can be no pontiff save the prince, and no priests save the magistrates. To die for one's country then becomes martyrdom; violation of its laws, impiety; and to subject one who is guilty to public execration is to condemn him to the anger of the gods: Sacer estod.
The second is good because it unites worship of the divine with love of the laws. By making the country the object of citizens' worship, it teaches that serving the State means serving its guardian god. This is a form of theocracy, where only the prince can be the high priest and only magistrates can be priests. Dying for one's country then becomes martyrdom, and breaking its laws becomes impiety. To publicly curse someone guilty of breaking those laws is to condemn that person to the gods' anger: Sacer estod.
On the other hand, it is bad in that, being founded on lies and error, it deceives men, makes them credulous and superstitious, and drowns the true cult of the Divinity in empty ceremonial. It is bad, again, when it becomes tyrannous and exclusive, and makes a people bloodthirsty and intolerant, so that it breathes fire and slaughter, and regards as a sacred act the killing of every one who does not believe in its gods. The result is to place such a people in a natural state of war with all others, so that its security is deeply endangered.
On the other hand, it is bad because it rests on lies and error. It deceives people, makes them gullible and superstitious, and buries the true worship of God beneath empty ceremonies. It is also bad when it becomes tyrannical and exclusive, making a people bloodthirsty and intolerant. Such a people then thirsts for destruction and slaughter, treating the killing of anyone who rejects its gods as sacred. As a result, such a people is naturally at war with all others, putting its own security in grave danger.
There remains therefore the religion of man or Christianity—not the Christianity of to-day, but that of the Gospel, which is entirely different. By means of this holy, sublime, and real religion all men, being children of one God, recognise one another as brothers, and the society that unites them is not dissolved even at death.
That leaves the religion of man, or Christianity. But I mean the Christianity of the Gospel, not the Christianity of today, which is entirely different. Through this holy, sublime, and true religion, all people recognize one another as brothers because they are children of one God. And the community that unites them does not fall apart even at death.
But this religion, having no particular relation to the body politic, leaves the laws in possession of the force they have in themselves without making any addition to it; and thus one of the great bonds that unite society considered in severalty fails to operate. Nay, more, so far from binding the hearts of the citizens to the State, it has the effect of taking them away from all earthly things. I know of nothing more contrary to the social spirit.
But this religion has no special connection to the political community. It leaves laws with only their own force and adds nothing to that force. As a result, one of the great bonds holding each society together fails to work. Worse still, far from attaching citizens’ hearts to the State, this religion draws them away from all earthly things. I know of nothing more opposed to the spirit of social life.
We are told that a people of true Christians would form the most perfect society imaginable. I see in this supposition only one great difficulty: that a society of true Christians would not be a society of men.
We are told that true Christians would form the most perfect society imaginable. I see only one major problem with this idea: a society of true Christians would not be a human society.
I say further that such a society, with all its perfection, would be neither the strongest nor the most lasting: the very fact that it was perfect would rob it of its bond of union; the flaw that would destroy it would lie in its very perfection.
I would add that such a society, despite all its perfection, would be neither the strongest nor the longest-lasting. Its very perfection would strip the society of the bond holding it together. The flaw that would destroy the society would lie in its very perfection.
Every one would do his duty; the people would be law-abiding, the rulers just and temperate; the magistrates upright and incorruptible; the soldiers would scorn death; there would be neither vanity nor luxury. So far, so good; but let us hear more.
Everyone would do their duty. The people would obey the law, and the rulers would be fair and show restraint. The magistrates would be honest and incorruptible. The soldiers would scorn death. There would be neither vanity nor luxury. So far, so good. But let us hear more.
Christianity as a religion is entirely spiritual, occupied solely with heavenly things; the country of the Christian is not of this world. He does his duty, indeed, but does it with profound indifference to the good or ill success of his cares. Provided he has nothing to reproach himself with, it matters little to him whether things go well or ill here on earth. If the State is prosperous, he hardly dares to share in the public happiness, for fear he may grow proud of his country's glory; if the State is languishing, he blesses the hand of God that is hard upon His people.
Christianity as a religion is entirely spiritual, concerned only with heavenly things. The Christian’s homeland is not in this world. He does his duty, but he is deeply indifferent to whether his efforts succeed or fail. As long as he has nothing to blame himself for, he cares little whether things go well or badly on earth. If the State prospers, he hardly dares to share in the public happiness. He fears he may become proud of his country’s glory. If the State is struggling, he blesses the hand of God that bears down on his people.
For the State to be peaceable and for harmony to be maintained, all the citizens without exception would have to be good Christians; if by ill hap there should be a single self-seeker or hypocrite, a Catiline or a Cromwell, for instance, he would certainly get the better of his pious compatriots. Christian charity does not readily allow a man to think hardly of his neighbours. As soon as, by some trick, he has discovered the art of imposing on them and getting hold of a share in the public authority, you have a man established in dignity; it is the will of God that he be respected: very soon you have a power; it is God's will that it be obeyed: and if the power is abused by him who wields it, it is the scourge wherewith God punishes His children. There would be scruples about driving out the usurper: public tranquillity would have to be disturbed, violence would have to be employed, and blood spilt; all this accords ill with Christian meekness; and after all, in this vale of sorrows, what does it matter whether we are free men or serfs? The essential thing is to get to heaven, and resignation is only an additional means of doing so.
For the State to be peaceful and harmonious, all citizens without exception would have to be good Christians. If, by bad luck, there were even one self-seeker or hypocrite, he would certainly outwit his devout fellow citizens. A Catiline or a Cromwell, for example. Christian charity makes people reluctant to think badly of their neighbors. Once such a man tricks them into trusting him and gains a share of public authority, he holds high office. God wills that he be respected. Very soon, he becomes a ruling power. God wills that he be obeyed. And if he abuses his power, his abuse is the punishment God sends his children. People would have moral doubts about driving out the usurper. Removing him would mean disturbing public peace, using violence, and shedding blood. All these actions fit poorly with Christian meekness. And after all, in this world of sorrow, what does being free or being serfs matter? The essential thing is to get to heaven, and accepting one's lot is simply another way to get there.
If war breaks out with another State, the citizens march readily out to battle; not one of them thinks of flight; they do their duty, but they have no passion for victory; they know better how to die than how to conquer. What does it matter whether they win or lose? Does not Providence know better than they what is meet for them? Only think to what account a proud, impetuous and passionate enemy could turn their stoicism! Set over against them those generous peoples who were devoured by ardent love of glory and of their country, imagine your Christian republic face to face with Sparta or Rome: the pious Christians will be beaten, crushed and destroyed, before they know where they are, or will owe their safety only to the contempt their enemy will conceive for them. It was to my mind a fine oath that was taken by the soldiers of Fabius, who swore, not to conquer or die, but to come back victorious—and kept their oath. Christians, would never have taken such an oath; they would have looked on it as tempting God.
If war breaks out with another State, the citizens readily march into battle. Not one thinks of fleeing. They do their duty, but they have no passion for victory. They know better how to die than how to win. What does it matter whether they win or lose? Doesn’t Providence know better than they do what is right for them? Just think how a proud, forceful, passionate enemy could exploit their stoicism! Compare them with those noble peoples consumed by a burning love of glory and their country. Imagine your Christian republic facing Sparta or Rome. The devout Christians will be beaten, crushed, and destroyed before they know what is happening. Or they will owe their safety only to their enemy’s contempt for them. To my mind, the soldiers of Fabius took a fine oath. They swore not to conquer or die, but to return victorious. And they kept their oath. Christians would never have sworn such an oath. They would have seen it as tempting God.
But I am mistaken in speaking of a Christian republic; the terms are mutually exclusive. Christianity preaches only servitude and dependence. Its spirit is so favourable to tyranny that it always profits by such a régime. True Christians are made to be slaves, and they know it and do not much mind: this short life counts for too little in their eyes.
But I am wrong to speak of a Christian republic. The two terms contradict each other. Christianity preaches only slavery and dependence. Its spirit is so favorable to tyranny that Christianity always benefits from such a regime. True Christians are made to be slaves. They know this and do not much mind, because this short life means too little to them.
I shall be told that Christian troops are excellent. I deny it. Show me an instance. For my part, I know of no Christian troops. I shall be told of the Crusades. Without disputing the valour of the Crusaders, I answer that, so far from being Christians, they were the priests' soldiery, citizens of the Church. They fought for their spiritual country, which the Church had, somehow or other, made temporal. Well understood, this goes back to paganism: as the Gospel sets up no national religion, a holy war is impossible among Christians.
People will tell me that Christian troops are excellent. I deny that claim. Show me an example. For my part, I know of no Christian troops. People will point to the Crusades. I do not question the Crusaders' courage. But I answer that, far from being Christians, the Crusaders were the priests' soldiers, citizens of the Church. They fought for their spiritual homeland, which the Church had somehow turned into an earthly one. Properly understood, such warfare is a return to paganism. Since the Gospel establishes no national religion, a holy war is impossible among Christians.
Under the pagan emperors, the Christian soldiers were brave; every Christian writer affirms it, and I believe it: it was a case of honourable emulation of the pagan troops. As soon as the emperors were Christian, this emulation no longer existed, and, when the Cross had driven out the eagle, Roman valour wholly disappeared.
Under the pagan emperors, Christian soldiers were brave. Every Christian writer says so, and I believe them. The Christian soldiers were honourably competing with the pagan troops. As soon as the emperors became Christian, that competition ended. And when the Cross drove out the eagle, Roman courage disappeared completely.
But, setting aside political considerations, let us come back to what is right, and settle our principles on this important point. The right which the social compact gives the Sovereign over the subjects does not, we have seen, exceed the limits of public expediency. The subjects then owe the Sovereign an account of their opinions only to such an extent as they matter to the community. Now, it matters very much to the community that each citizen should have a religion. That will make him love his duty; but the dogmas of that religion concern the State and its members only so far as they have reference to morality and to the duties which he who professes them is bound to do to others. Each man may have, over and above, what opinions he pleases, without it being the Sovereign's business to take cognisance of them; for, as the Sovereign has no authority in the other world, whatever the lot of its subjects may be in the life to come, that is not its business, provided they are good citizens in this life.
But let us set aside political considerations and return to what is right. Let us establish our principles on this important point. As we have seen, the social compact gives the Sovereign authority over its subjects only within the limits of public benefit. Subjects therefore owe the Sovereign an account of their opinions only insofar as those opinions matter to the community. Now, it matters greatly to the community that each citizen has a religion. Religion will make him love his duty. But religious doctrines concern the State and its members only insofar as they relate to morality and duties toward others. These are the duties that anyone who professes those doctrines is bound to fulfill. Beyond that, each person may hold whatever opinions he pleases, without the Sovereign having any business examining those opinions. For the Sovereign has no authority in the next world. So whatever happens to its subjects in the life to come is none of its business, provided they are good citizens in this life.
"In the republic," says the Marquis d'Argenson, "each man is perfectly free in what does not harm others." This limit never changes, and it is impossible to define it more precisely. I have not resisted the pleasure of occasionally quoting this manuscript, though it is unknown to the public. I quote it to honor the memory of a good and distinguished man. Even while serving in the Ministry, he kept the heart of a good citizen. His views on his country's government remained sound and right.
There is therefore a purely civil profession of faith of which the Sovereign should fix the articles, not exactly as religious dogmas, but as social sentiments without which a man cannot be a good citizen or a faithful subject. While it can compel no one to believe them, it can banish from the State whoever does not believe them—it can banish him, not for impiety, but as an anti-social being, incapable of truly loving the laws and justice, and of sacrificing, at need, his life to his duty. If any one, after publicly recognising these dogmas, behaves as if he does not believe them, let him be punished by death: he has committed the worst of all crimes, that of lying before the law.
There is therefore a purely civil statement of faith whose principles the Sovereign should set. These are not exactly religious doctrines, but social feelings needed to be a good citizen or a loyal subject. The Sovereign cannot force anyone to believe these principles, but can banish anyone who does not believe them from the State. Such people can be banished not for being irreligious, but for being antisocial. They are incapable of truly loving the laws and justice or, when necessary, sacrificing their lives to their duty. If anyone publicly accepts these doctrines but then behaves as if he does not believe them, let him face death. He has committed the worst of all crimes: lying before the law.
Cæsar, defending Catiline, tried to establish the doctrine that the soul is mortal. In response, Cato and Cicero did not waste time on philosophy. They simply showed that Cæsar spoke like a bad citizen and promoted a doctrine that would harm the State. The Roman senate had to judge that harm, not a question of theology.
The dogmas of civil religion ought to be few, simple, and exactly worded, without explanation or commentary. The existence of a mighty, intelligent and beneficent Divinity, possessed of foresight and providence, the life to come, the happiness of the just, the punishment of the wicked, the sanctity of the social contract and the laws: these are its positive dogmas. Its negative dogmas I confine to one, intolerance, which is a part of the cults we have rejected.
The beliefs of civil religion should be few, simple, and precisely worded, without explanation or commentary. Its positive beliefs are these: a powerful, intelligent, and benevolent God who foresees events and provides for the world. Life after death, happiness for the just, punishment for the wicked, and the sacredness of the social contract and laws. I limit its forbidden beliefs to one: intolerance, which belongs to the forms of worship we have rejected.
Those who distinguish civil from theological intolerance are, to my mind, mistaken. The two forms are inseparable. It is impossible to live at peace with those we regard as damned; to love them would be to hate God who punishes them: we positively must either reclaim or torment them. Wherever theological intolerance is admitted, it must inevitably have some civil effect; and as soon as it has such an effect, the Sovereign is no longer Sovereign even in the temporal sphere: thenceforth priests are the real masters, and kings only their ministers.
In my view, those who separate civil intolerance from religious intolerance are mistaken. The two forms cannot be separated. We cannot live in peace with people we believe are damned. To love them would mean hating God, who punishes them. We absolutely must either convert them or torment them. Wherever religious intolerance is accepted, it must inevitably have some effect on civil life. As soon as religious intolerance affects civil life, the Sovereign loses supreme authority even over worldly affairs. From then on, priests are the real masters, and kings are merely their servants.
Marriage, for instance, is a civil contract with civil effects essential to society’s survival. Suppose the clergy claimed the sole right to permit marriage, as every intolerant religion must necessarily do. Isn’t it clear that establishing the Church’s authority over marriage would destroy the prince’s authority? The prince would then have only as many subjects as the clergy chose to allow him. The Church could grant or refuse marriage based on people’s acceptance of particular doctrines or religious formulas, or their piety. By acting prudently and firmly, the Church alone would control all inheritances, public offices, and citizens, even the State itself. For the State could not survive if all its members were born outside marriage.
But, I will be told, there will be appeals against abuses of authority, summonses, and court orders. The Church’s property and revenues will be seized. How sad! If the clergy has even a little, not courage, but sense, it will ignore these measures and carry on. The clergy will quietly let the appeals, summonses, orders, and seizures proceed, and will remain master in the end. Giving up a part is no great sacrifice, I think, when you are sure of securing the whole.
Now that there is and can be no longer an exclusive national religion, tolerance should be given to all religions that tolerate others, so long as their dogmas contain nothing contrary to the duties of citizenship. But whoever dares to say: Outside the Church is no salvation, ought to be driven from the State, unless the State is the Church, and the prince the pontiff. Such a dogma is good only in a theocratic government; in any other, it is fatal. The reason for which Henry IV is said to have embraced the Roman religion ought to make every honest man leave it, and still more any prince who knows how to reason.
Now that no nation has or can have a single exclusive religion, all religions that tolerate others should be tolerated. But their beliefs must not conflict with the duties of citizenship. Anyone who dares to say: Outside the Church is no salvation, should be expelled from the State. The only exception is when the State is the Church and the prince is its supreme religious leader. Such a belief is acceptable only in a theocracy. In any other government, it is fatal. The reason Henry IV is said to have adopted the Roman religion should make every honest man leave that religion. Even more so, that reason should make any prince who can reason leave it.