We moved forward with W.W. I this week, and this coming week we plan to discuss trench warfare and its companion, chemical warfare.
The map below shows Germany did have Turkey and Austria as allies, but both were very weak, leaving Germany to carry the overwhelming part of the burden against England, France, and Russia. They knew they could not win a long a protracted war. Trench warfare would do nothing if not slow the war down to a grind, and Germany knew that this would work against them.
Germany came up with two tactics to try and tip the scales in their favor: Chemical and Submarine Warfare (we will discuss sub warfare next week).
Chemical weapons were made with gas heavier than air. The idea was that the gas would sink down into the trenches, killing men and perhaps, with high enough concentrations, make the trench unlivable. This would flush them out of the trench, where they were sitting ducks. Germany knew that they could not win a long war. If they wanted victory, they believed, they needed a way to break the stalemate sooner rather than later. Mustard Gas seemed like it might do the trick.
England ruled the waves, and this allowed them to continually supply their troops in France and keep their economy moving forward. Germany’s pre-war challenge to England’s naval supremacy fell short, but subs were a cheaper way to try and eliminate that lead.
Immediately the allied powers regarded both kinds of weapons as unfair and unlawful. Most nations today agree that chemical weapons should be banned, but submarine warfare stuck around and became standard practice. Why do we make this distinction? Is it justified?
In regards to chemical warfare:
It is a different form of killing, but it is a qualitatively different form? Does anything separate being killed by a bullet and killed by gas? Some argue that chemical weapons stay around and linger in the soil. But what about unexploded land mines? Should land mines also be banned? In fact many argue that international treaties should do just that.
Sub Warfare was regarded as cowardly and ‘unsporting.’ It is also was patently ‘unfair,’ as it involved hiding from the enemy giving you an unfair advantage. Thus, in the minds of many, war became murder.
At the back of all these issues is the ‘lawfulness’ of war. Just war theory as it emerged from the early and Medieval church emphasized the ‘proportionality of response.’ But — if you don’t have ships, can subs be a ‘proportional response?’ If you lack the funds to make jets with precision guided weapons, can you instead develop an anthrax bomb? Is that a proportional response? Should war be essentially an affair of honor, like dueling? Or is war really about victory, despite whatever gloss we put upon it? We can also ask if moral action would always lead to victory, and what should a commander in chief do if moral action would make their country lose and suffer? Some students countered back to the original question – ‘Why are chemical weapons less moral than artillery shells?’
By the end of World War I, the European idea of war conducted in a gentlemanly way between ‘civilized’ nations disappeared. Of course this would not be the first time in history that certain ideals about war would erode. Students who had me in the past may recall how the Peloponnesian War ended traditional ways in which the Greeks fought.
Some students thought that you could not introduce chemical weapons, but could use them if someone else did. What is the basis for this distinction, and does it work?
Some thought that Germany’s position of weakness justified their action, but this gets back to the question of whether or not some concept of right action or victory is most important in war. Of course poorer countries today may not like being in an inferior position militarily, and may say that current bans on chemical and biological weapons are simply a way for the rich countries to maintain their advantage.
Whether the aggressor or not, Gemany’s ‘hurry up and win’ tactics hurt them strategically. Their actions against Belgian civilians helped drum up political support for the war in France and especially England. Their use of the submarine would ultimately bring in an entire new country against them, the United States. It appears that for all their tactical success and ability (all agreed that Germans made the best trenches, for example), they lacked a workable long-term vision for how to win the war.
In this post I reviewed the book Just War and Christian Discipleship where author Daniel Bell makes the point that Christians need to abandon the “checklist” approach to war. This attitude reasons based on the idea that, “Because you did ‘x,’ now I can do ‘y.’ Such an approach, Bell argues, abandons the idea of war as a distinctly Christian calling, an activity like any other, designed to bring us closer to Christ. Certainly Bell, I’m sure, would argue that chemical weapons have no place in a Christian concept of war.
Consider some of what follows a thought experiment rather than a settled conclusion . . .
For some time now I have contemplated Charles Taylor’s idea that a significant impetus in creating the modern world is that we homogenize space and time. This belief/practice has shaped us for at least 350 years, and it has led us to try and combine many different elements of nature and the subsequent explosion of technological invention. Many of these creations have greatly improved human life, at least in the physical sense. But of course, it has also brought about the destruction of any corporate sense of meaning, and an immense decline in the idea of sanctity.
To homogenize something makes it ubiquitous. Recently Marginal Revolution linked to an article about how technology has made music unimportant in our culture, largely through its constant availability. The author’s conclusion in the linked article is not original, as many have declared something similar, but it serves as another reminder of the cost of the homogenization of space and time.
By contrast, the medieval world presents itself as one of careful delineation of all things. We need not say here whether their world or ours is better or worse to appreciate the difference. Reading primary sources from a particular era gives one such an appreciation, and Abbot Suger’s crackling style makes The Deeds of Louis the Fat an enjoyable, if still slightly monotonous read.* He centers his writing on how Louis enhanced the power of the monarchy by bringing several dastardly nobles back in line. His people loved him, if for no other reason that he kept the peace and stood up for those oppressed. Suger clearly admires his subject, though he recognizes that he had his moniker for a reason, writing that,
By now his body was quite heavy, weighed down as it was by burdensome flesh; no one else, not even a beggar, would have wanted to–or even been able–to ride a horse when hampered by such a dangerously large body.
And later . . .
Thus [Louis] spoke, and–despite his corpulence– he set off with astonishing enthusiasm.
I confess to reading the text with an eye to what would most engage the boys in my 9th grade Medieval History class, and that meant primarily looking for stories of gruesome deaths.** Suger delivers the goods! For example:
There can be no doubt that the hand of God exacted this swift vengeance upon William of Laroche Guyon [who had murdered a husband and wife in cold blood to gain possession of their castle]. His accomplices were thrown out of the windows dead or alive, bristling with innumerable arrows like hedgehogs. They waved about in the air on the points of the lances, as if the very earth had rejected them. For the unparalleled deed of William they discovered a rare vengeance; for he who in life had been heartless had his heart cut out of his dead body. When they had taken it from his entrails, all swollen with fraud and iniquity, they put it on a stake and set it up for many days in a fixed place to demonstrate the punishment for crime.
His body and those of some of his companions, were placed on hurdles tied with cords and ropes, and sent sailing down the Seine so that, if nothing stopped them floating down to Rouen, the Normans should see the punishment incurred by his crime, and also so that those who had briefly fouled France with their stink should in death continue to foul Normandy, their native soil.
Suger later discusses the murder of Charles the Good, killed while praying prostrate in church along with his cohorts. He spares no details and seems to relish them. First, the execution of the plotters:
Now [the criminals] despaired of life, and their lyre was turned to mourning and their organ into the voice of them that weep (Job XXX, 31); the most wicked Bourchard left with the agreement of his companions, hoping to flee the land but found himself unable to do so, though only his own iniquity prevented him. On his return to the castle of one of his intimate friends he was seized by the king’s command and suffered exquisite torture in death. Tied to the upper part of a high wheel, exposed naked to the rapacity of crows and other birds of prey, his eyes torn out and his whole face lacerated, pierced by a thousand blows from arrows, lances and spears, he perished miserably and his body was thrown into a sewer.
Bertold, the brains behind the plot, also decided to flee; but when he found he was able to wander around without restriction, he returned through sheer pride; for he asked himself, ‘Who am I and what have I done?’ So he was captured by his own men, handed over to the king’s judgement and condemned to a well-merited and wretched death. They hanged him from a gibbet with a dog and as the dog was struck it took its anger out on Bertold, chewed his whole face and, horrible to relate, covered him with excrement; so, more miserable than the most miserable of men, he ended his wretched life in perpetual death.
The men the king had besieged in the tower were forced by many hardships to surrender. In front of their relations Louis had them thrown our one by one from the top of the tower to crush their skulls. One of them called Isaac had been tonsured in a monastery to avoid death; Louis ordered him to be defrocked and hanged on a gibbet. Thus victorious at Bruges, the king rapidly led his army to Ypres, an excellent castle, to take vengeance on William the Bastard, who had fomented the treason. He sent messengers to the people of Bruges and brought them around to his side by threats and flattery. Then as William barred his way with three hundred knights, half the royal army rushed against him and the other half went off at an angle and boldly occupied the castle by way of its other gate. The king kept it, William lost all claim to Flanders, and was banished. Because he had aspired to gain Flanders through treachery, it was right that he should gain nothing whatever in Flanders.
Suger closes this narrative commenting that,
Flanders was washed clean and almost re-baptized by these various forms of revenge and the great outpouring of blood. So having installed William the Norman as count, the king returned to France, victorious by God’s help.
At first glance the means of their death, and Suger’s possible delight in such details, surely strikes us as barbaric and unChristian. We tell ourselves that we have come much farther since those “dark days.” But I want to suggest–or at least explore–the possibility, that Suger and the medievals may have been on to something.
I tread lightly, for I am aware that this may be one of the craziest of my crazy ideas.
To begin, we can reflect on John Wilkes Booth. He killed Lincoln, and no one denied that he should face the death penalty. Everyone wanted him captured alive . . . so that he could be tried and then executed. He died while pursued by troops either by his own hand or that of a trigger-happy soldier, and people were upset. But why bother? Dead is dead, right? He saved us the expense of a trial. Why all the fuss? But, everyone recognized at the time that while his death was important, the manner of his death was also important. To be tried and publicly executed would have a different meaning than if he took his own life, a collective, and cathartic, justice, vs. the “triumphant” and defiant individual.
If we accept this reasoning we begin to see that not every death is alike. Different kinds of death carry with them different meanings.
If different kinds of death carry with them different meanings, then we may feel inclined to accept that our bodies have meaning, and bodily actions have certain meanings. Some of this is obvious–certain facial expressions and gestures have a universal meaning across cultures, time, and space. Other implications follow. If the body has meaning then gender has an inherent meaning, and so on. We simply cannot invent ourselves from thin air.
So far, so good, but from here it gets trickier. Before considering the manner of their deaths we should consider the crimes committed.
The crimes were done in cold blood, against defenseless victims. One of the victims was killed in church alone while praying. The other was ambushed in his castle after he welcomed them inside, and then his wife was also brutally stabbed to death as threw herself on the body of her dying husband.
The crimes had many witnesses to them and no doubt existed as to their guilt.
Those that murdered the lord in his castle did so with the express purpose of rebelling against the king. Those that murdered Charles the Good seemed intent on seizing his land and title.
Aside from the cold-blooded nature of the murders, the crimes violated a) the sacrosanct nature of the Church as a safe place of devotion to God, and b) the direct violation of hospitality.
Would an ordinary punishment suffice, that is, an ordinary death sentence, a simple, dignified, beheading?
I have not seen the movie Training Day, for which Denzel Washington won a Best Actor Oscar. I did hear an interview with Washington, however, in which he discussed how he agreed to the movie only if they changed the script. He felt that the original ending left the possibility that his character survived, which meant the possibility of a sequel. Instead, he said that, (my memory is close but not exact) “My character lived like a dog, so he should die like a dog. Anything else would not be right, or fair to the story.”
Again, we see the manner of death as having significance to the story. Perhaps the same could be true of the events Suger relates. We cannot see the meaning of their actions without seeing the consequences those actions have. The public nature of the punishments inflicted rub us wrongly as well. But we must also wonder whether or not we have swung too far in the direction of privacy in last century or so. We no longer vote in public, we no longer need to speak in public (we can comment anonymously on line). Perhaps this has contributed to the cultural divide and polarization we now face.
Our modern homogenization of life and death has not made unjust deaths any less frequent. If anything, one might suggest that, at certain times at least, it has positively increased it. The beginning of this phenomena may have been the French Revolution, where the guillotine treated all alike. But this industrialization of death led to its mass production, and numbed much of France for years. The class and racial identity politics of Hitler and Lenin led to further industrialized butchery. Equality in death led to piles of statistics, an undecipherable mass. The vast majority of these deaths were hidden far from the people at large.
I truncated the above accounts from Suger, but even still, it seems that the deaths inflicted give the stories a “satisfying” ending (the effect increases by reading the whole story). We can call this a latent string of barbarism in our psyche or . . . it may be that the medievals acted rightly, provided of course that such punishments truly fit the crimes and that no one could dispute their guilt. Suger, an Abbott and scholar, has no doubt of this, for he mentions specifically that the violent end of the malefactors “washed clean” Flanders, for example.
Perhaps our executions should be more public. Perhaps this could be a means for us to process important truths of life and death. I hesitate to say that the method of execution should vary depending on the crime, for in the accounts above things seemed to happen at least in part “in the heat of the moment.” To inflict such punishments in cold blood presents a host of problems. But I feel a certain amount of tension. If we treat every death alike, the body may lose its inherent meaning, and then death will lose its meaning. If death loses its meaning, so too will life. All we will have left, then, will be a monotonous march to oblivion.
*The Carolingians win for having the best names for their kings, i.e., Pepin the Short, Charles the Great (Charlemagne), Louis the Pious, Charles the Bald, Charles the Simple (i.e, Charles the Stupid), and of course, Louis the Fat.
**I know of no better way to get 15 year old boys interested in learning about feudal hierarchy and symbolism, a classic bait and switch. The girls, who are usually far more agreeable but often far less interested in the gory details, “must endure their going hence.”
Several years ago I attended a conference in which Dr. Peter Kreeft was one of the featured speakers. I have read a few of Dr. Kreeft’s works and liked them all, and especially enjoyed his essay on surfing, one of his great loves.
During one of the lunch breaks I had the immense good fortune to find myself sitting next to Dr. Kreeft at one the random round tables in the dining area. I asked him for some surfing tips and he proved gracious and helpful. Based on his love for the sea I also wanted to run a pet theory of mine by him.
The theory runs something like this. . .
Mankind’s greatest feats of creativity have always come near water.
Egypt had the Nile and the Mediterranean
Babylon had the Tigris and Euphrates
Greece had the Mediterranean
Northern Europe gave birth to the Gothic Age, by the English Channel and the North Sea
London then led the way with the Channel, North Sea, etc.
The Dutch had a brief but brilliant golden age, again right on the water
In America the great cultural centers have always been Boston, New York, L.A., etc.
Even when sometimes you think of an exception, the theory still holds. Chicago is in the middle of the U.S., but has the Great Lakes. Twain invented American Literature in the Mid-West. . . but his formative years were spent on the Mississippi.
And so on, and so on.
Assyria was in the Ancient Near East, but not creative in many ways that contributed to humanity. They did not live near any great body of water. The Greek city-state of Sparta was one of the few far away from the Mediterranean, and their culture stagnated. Rome obviously had lots of power, but came to the Mediterranean late in their game and thus borrowed a great deal from everyone. Their creative cultural contributions pale in comparison to Greece, but also Egypt and probably Babylon as well.
Some might suggest that the key is majestic expanse, not just water. But I disagree. The Great Plains have majestic expanse in spades and have not led the way in creative impulse. The Himalayas have the tallest mountains on Earth but have not produced great thinkers, architects, etc. Sparta was surrounded by mountains on all sides and may have been one of the more culturally stagnant of all civilizations. Of course mountains and plains have a beauty all their own and can inspire, but they do not appear to have the universal impact of water. I still think there must be something to water itself.
A purely rational or mechanical view of this would probably put the emphasis on the fact that living near water would inevitably result in overseas trade, which would blend cultures and ideas to a degree that would naturally lead to creativity.
But I think that this puts the cart before the horse. For a civilization to think of something beyond survival and necessity, it has to think outside of itself, and for that it needs inspired. It is this sense of inspiration that opens them up to travel, other cultures, and other things. In other words, substantial bodies of water subconsciously unlocks our creativity and then civilizations take advantage of the opportunities before them.
“What do you think?” I asked Dr. Kreeft.
There followed a pregnant pause but all I could think was, “He agreed! Yee-ha!”
He continued (I paraphrase his words), “There is something about water that ties us to creation itself. It is where we came from.” And with that, he politely excused himself.
Part of me wanted him to say more, but upon reflection he had in fact said it all. I doubt very much that by the “where we came from” comment he meant anything in a purely Darwinian sense. Genesis 1 talks of creation being drawn up through water. Our new creation involves the waters of baptism. 1 John 5 talks mysteriously of the three-fold agreement of the Spirit, water and blood. I know of a physics teacher who begins the year by looking at ancient views of creation and the cosmos, and mentions Thales’ idea that all matter comes from water. The students tend to scoff until they re-read Genesis 1. There is the Tradition of the Church which portrays Mary hearing the Annunciation, with the attendant re-creation of all things through the Incarnation, sitting by a well. The creation of the “new Adam” would obviously take us back to Genesis 1, just as St. John does in the opening of his gospel.
In the Odyssey (13.102-112) Homer refers to a cave sacred to nymphs which contains “ever flowing springs of water.” Also in the cave are “jars made of stone,” along with “looms, likewise of stone, in which the nymphs weave sea-purple garments.” The Neo-Platonic philosopher Porphyry writes,
The “garments of sea-purple” are obviously the flesh, which is woven together from blood; the sea-purple dye is derived from blood, and the wool that it colors is also the vital fluids of animals. All flesh is thus fashioned from blood through blood . . .
To this day Jimi Hendrix stands firmly entrenched as the greatest electric guitarist of all time. He did things with the guitar that still no one else can equal. I don’t think it coincidental that some of his most intriguing songs (“Rainy Day, Dream Away,” “Castles Made of Sand,” “May This be Love,” “1983 . . .A Merman I Should Be”) involve water. Perhaps in some way he understood the power and meaning of water as Peter Kreeft did that day at lunch, a serendipitous moment for me if there ever was one.
We began where we began where we began our look at Egyptian civilization, with geography.
Greek geography has three dominant features I wanted the students to notice: water, mountains, and climate (below is rough topography of the region)
I believe water had a few key impacts on the Greeks:
1. Psychological — it is nearly universal human reaction to be drawn out by large bodies of water. At least I tend to think it is. Most of us have probably vacationed at the beach before. Have most of you, like me, stood looking at the horizon of the sea and thought, “One day I shall go forth and seek out boldly new lands and new places”?
Alright, maybe not for everybody.
But why does waterfront property sell at such a high price? Water may not call us all to adventure, but it does seem to impact our psyche in some way.
2. Water also serves as a means to communicate and interact with others. So those that live near water tend to explore and trade, and this in turn creates vibrant economies and cultures. England, the Netherlands, and Venice might be examples of this.
In the end, we can see why great cultural explosions often come from places near water if we combine the possible psychological and obvious practical effects (Greece, Renaissance Italy, the Dutch, England) Of course like most things, this has its limits. Witness, for example, classical music from Bach though Strauss, Russian music and literature, etc. in essentially land-locked places. Still — it seems to me that there may be a connection between water and a civilization’s creativity. I expand on these possibilities here for those interested.
Mountains and Soil
1. Greece had farmers, but in general the soil was rockier and poorer than in the Fertile Crescent. This in turn, of course, might only serve to push them outwards all the more.
2. The mountains divided them geographically, which in turn divided them politically. These mostly independent communities may have helped originate, or at least broaden, the concept of self-government. All of the civilizations we have studied so far have chosen the ‘big’ route to success, partly through choice and partly through circumstance. In contrast, the Greek philosopher Aristotle believed the ideal political community should have more than 5000 citizens.
If most people could pick their ideal climate it would probably be between 50-80 degrees, light breeze, low humidity. This would be a general description of a Mediterranean climate, and one impact this had on the Greeks was that they lived life outdoors. So — as they interacted with other areas throughout Greece and the Mediterranean, they also interacted a lot with each other, and this too might have helped contribute to the creativity of ancient Greek civilization.
After looking at geography we went to another key foundation of ancient Greece and looked at their concept of ‘Arete,’ which I think can be best translated as ‘excellence.’ ‘Excellence’ is an amoral concept. The Greeks admired people who were ‘excellent’ people. Odysseus was excellent at cleverness and like a cat, always landing on his feet. Achilles is admired because no one can best him in battle. But neither would be considered moral people in any Christian sense. Arete tells you to continually pursue excellence, to never rest on one’s laurels. One of the problems with arete, however, is that it does not tell you when to stop, something that we will see working itself out in Greek civilization.
We have discussed before that what a civilization worships is what it follows after at all costs, and this may not be found ultimately in the gods themselves. One question I posed to the students was, which came first, the Greek gods, or Greek arete? Greek gods have power and beauty, but not morality. In Greek sculpture their is not much difference between how gods and men are depicted. This one is of Poseidon:
And another famous one of the discus thrower (stance obviously different, but the ‘body’ is the same:
I should say that the students were right to point out some minor differences, as the gods usually tend to look more imposing or regal, but in general the gods were just somewhat better versions of mankind.
We can contrast this with the Egyptian gods.
The difference is more than mere artistic technique. When they wanted, the Egyptians could be quite expressive, as this tomb painting with birds shows.
Often times the Greeks depicted the gods in motion, perhaps reflecting the fluid nature of their civilization. The Egyptians, in contrast, often showed their deities in a static posed, often with arms crossed, reflecting the more stable, tradition oriented nature of the Egyptians.
Next week we will look at the Trojan War and the possible historical roots of the conflict.
Proximate causes to events are always easier to see, and depending on one’s role in the sweep of history, more satisfying to the ego. The rise of Nazism in Germany horrified the civilized world of Europe. “Sore losers after W.W. I,” many no doubt thought. But the Nazi’s drew strength in part from the centuries old feeling that they (Germany) were no longer going to be the doormat of Europe. After all, from the time of the 30 Years War (1618-1648) most of Europe’s conflicts played themselves out on German soil. England, France, and Russia had a part in creating the monster that nearly destroyed them. The Jews of Jesus’ day faced a variety of problems, and the Romans could hypothetically be blamed for nearly all of them. “It’s their fault that we have no nation, freedom, etc. etc.” But Jesus never let His fellow Jews sink to this attitude. His famous words in Matthew 15:11,
It is not what enters into the mouth that defiles the man, but what proceeds out of the mouth, this defiles the man.
applied directly to the spiritual leaders of the time, but have broader application. Speaking as one of God’s prophets, he speaks as the prophets do. “Your problems are your own faults. Don’t project blame elsewhere.” In the fourth volume of his A Study of History Toynbee applies this principle in a fascinating way regarding the Byzantine Empire. A look at Byzantium’s history that hit only the highlights would likely make a long jump from Justinian over to the Crusades, which would give the impression of an embattled area of Christendom making a desperate stand against the rise of Islam. The political and military failure of the Crusades (to say nothing of the moral failures on all sides) end up sealing their fate, and the Moslems finish them off in 1453 when Constantinople falls. Thus, they could easily say that the fell due to Islamic aggression. It’s “their” fault. But this perspective ignores what happened in the intermittent period between these bookmark events, and especially ignores the Byzantine’s war with Bulgaria from A.D. 977-1018, which took place long before the Seljuk Turks posed any real threat to the Byzantines (those who read the review of “Fourteen Byzantine Rulers will note that this was during the reign of Basil II). A look at the map just before the conflict reveals the situation, with the Byzantines in Pink and Bulgaria in green. In fairness to the Byzantines, the Kingdom of Bulgaria represented a political division from the old Roman empire, and since the Byzantines had always seen themselves as “Roman,” they likely felt the duty of reclaiming lost territory. It also appears that the Bulgarians may have initiated conflict in 700’s-800’s A.D., and perhaps the Byzantines this time thought of payback. But this political division ran only skin deep. Both kingdoms had unity on a deeper level, as both committed themselves to Christianity, but more specifically, to the distinctive “Eastern Orthodox” brand of Christianity prevalent in Eastern Europe at the time. Whatever the Byzantines might gain from such a conflict, an inevitable cost on the “back end” would wait them for them as in all civil wars. If they could forego the political division, they would still likely have had unity against a common foe. Still, as a result of the war, the map changed and their territory increased. . . The map also shows, however, that their gains in a long, desperate conflict between evenly matched foes came in part by ignoring the growing threat to the east. By gaining in the west they ignored Anatolia and the growing power of an enemy with whom their differences were more fundamental. The map doesn’t show the social strain placed on Byzantium as a result of the war. Emperor Basil the Bulgar Killer gained glory in war, but ignored the growing strife of his subjects in agricultural areas of Anatolia, a product of what Toynbee calls, “their profound political distress and economic discontent, too frequent to be dismissed as the work of ambitious or unruly individuals.” What should have been the core of Byzantium’s strength was in fact rotten with decay, ready to fall away at a mere touch to the Turks. Though their territory had increased since the 700’s, their burden of defense had increased, and not just in terms of territory. They also had to care for more people, and thus had even reason to distract themselves from the social problems in Anatolia. The maps tell the rest of the story. . . 1025 A.D. 1355 A.D.: Bulgaria is back, showing that their previous conquest could not hold amidst growing internal social strife. All of that effort did nothing for them in the long run. And then, the end of it all, proving Matthew 15:11 true, though it took centuries for it to apply in the Byzantine case.
This difficult era of the crusades raises many questions for us:
1. Did the Crusades attempt to stem the tide of Moslem aggression, or did they in fact cause more Moslem unity and a resurgence of Moslem power?
Some see the Crusades as a legitimate attempt to strike against Moslem expansionism. Others argue that the Crusades forced the Moslems to unite once again. Having been invaded by the West, they determined to renew their attacks against them. Do the Crusades bear any blame for the eventual collapse of Constantinople in 1453?
2. What role should faith and reason play in everyday affairs?
The Third Crusade is a good example of this problem. Richard I fought his way to Jerusalem, but went home in part because he believed he could not hold the city even if he took it. Therefore, it was pointless to risk his live and the lives of his men for nothing. Some criticized his actions, saying something to the effect of, “You must step forward in faith, and watch God bless you. This is what faith is all about! You cannot think of this in practical terms. That is not thinking with faith. Put a foot into the Jordan, and then watch it part.”
We see this same question also running through the idea of the tragic Children’s Crusades, though here the Church strongly opposed Europe’s youth to no avail.* How should the balance between ‘faith’ and ‘reason’ guide our daily lives? How should we answer the argument of many young people who participated in the ‘Children’s Crusades,’ which ran something like this:
God has called his people to crusade for Jerusalem. We believed so in 1097. Has God changed? He is the same, yesterday, today, forever. Therefore, His call is the same. We must still vie for the Holy Land.
But how shall we go? Let us not trust in princes, horses, or chariots (i.e. Ps. 20), let us know that our trust is in God, by marching out in true faith. We see in Scripture that Moses led the Israelites to the Red Sea and it parted. Joshua marched around the city, and it fell. Guided by God’s word, we shall emulate their example. God shall make a way for us to take Jerusalem, and do so in a way so that all glory goes to him.
Many argue that the problem with the Crusades was a lack of organization, supplies, or reinforcements. This only betrays worldly thinking. Would more supplies have made the Crusaders less greedy in 1204? Would it have made them less violent inside Jerusalem’s walls in 1099? No, the problem has been our lack of faith and obedience.
Jesus pointed out the strength and purity of the faith of children. Therefore, who better than the Church’s youth to undertake this venture?
We know that the Children’s Crusades ended in utter disaster.* But what would you say in response to their argument? How can you disprove them? What is faith’s relationship to reason?
3. The west attempted at least seven times at retaking Jerusalem. What should this tell us about them?
That they were foolishly stubborn?
That they were intensely dedicated and willing to make great sacrifices for achieving their goal?
That they were a people of faith willing to trust in spite of adversity?
That they were foolish, naive, and used ‘faith’ as a cover for their prejudice and desire for gain?
In the end, the Crusades would have many unintended consequences. The West was exposed to Greek literature and philosophy for the first time. St. Thomas Aquinas, the Renaissance, and Exploration may all have been by-products of this, among other things. The Crusades also raise many questions about using violence as means to bring about the Kingdom of God that are still with us. If we agree with the Crusades, should we also agree with the bombing of abortion clinics?
Next week we will return to our look at Medieval Feudal society, and I hope that the students will be confronted with good questions.
*I should note that scholars debate when these crusades took place, and whether or not there was one crusade or two. A few even doubt whether or not they were children at all, as some believe they may have been a mass of landless unemployed. My rendering in class will be the traditional story.
This week we looked at Persia’s expansion in Europe under Darius as they crossed the Hellespont into Greece. Why did they do this? I think there are a variety of possibilities.
We talked before about the ‘Burden of Cyrus.’ His extraordinary accomplishments made Persia a world power. However, this legacy could be a burden as well as a gift. Both with Cambyses and Darius we see this ‘need’ to do something grand that Cyrus did not do, something that would allow them to leave their own mark on Persia. For Cambyses, this took the form of the conquest of Egypt. For Darius one could argue, it took the form of conquering Greece. One needs only look at how childhood stars often fare in their adult lives to see the problems of too much success too quickly.
The answer could be simpler. Expansion may erase current enemies but it usually creates new ones. The Aegean Sea may simply have been the ‘next’ enemy for Persia given their previous expansion through Asia Minor.
A more obvious and practical reason may have been Athens’ support for rebellions against Persia amongst “Greek” cities in Asia Minor. Though this support amounted to little more than a token gesture, Darius may have felt than any slight to Persian power needed dealt with. If this story is true, it has similarities to Emperor Claudius’ decision to invade Britain (Britain may have been giving aid — in the barest sense of the term — to conquered Gauls) during his reign in Rome.
Herodotus records a few stories that suggest that Darius may have had personal motivations for conquering Greece involving a personal attendant of his who was Greek. The stories may or may not be true, but they might have a ring of truth. It is not unknown for kings or country’s to act at least in part with this kind of motivation.
We wanted to realize, however, that expansion across the Aegean would be a different kind of expansion than the Persians were used to. Almost the entirety of their empire was land based. Anyone can walk. Not everyone can sail. Their expansion overseas would mean the creation of a whole wing of their empire. Embarking on the sea would put them in a position where they would need a strong presence but have little experience. In contrast, most Greek city-states grew up on the water. Persia would still be able to muster an overwhelming advantage in raw manpower. For most city-states this would be enough. But as we shall see, not for all.
We looked at the Battle of Marathon in 490 B.C., and what it revealed about Persia. Persia’s defeat at Marathon hardly spelled doom for Persia, but it did demonstrate their weaknesses, and perhaps, the fact that they had finally stretched out their imperial arm too far. The map below shows them coming right up against classical Greece at this time:
Persia was, in general, less oppressive and more tolerant than previous empires. They provided economic advantage and security. But being part of Persia did not come with any sort of identity. One might argue that Persia was all head, but no heart, and on some level people need inspired. They possessed huge armies, but the majority of those armies had conquered troops that probably felt little reason to fight for Persia. Thankfully for Persia, most of the time their huge numbers meant that they often did not have to fight at all. In fact, Persia’s absolute requirement for military service for all eligible males shows them at their least tolerant. When one father asked King Xerxes to exempt his youngest son to stay on the family farm, Xerxes executed his son, hacked his body in two, and had his departing forces march between the pieces of his son’s body as they left the city. They allowed for no exception to their ‘No Exceptions’ policy.
At Marathon, the Athenians gained a tactical advantage by focusing their attack on the non-Persian members of Persia’s force. The Persian force collapsed quickly as large portions of their force beat a hasty retreat. They may have been willing to follow orders and march where told. Why would they risk more than that? What were they fighting for? On a variety of occasions, Herodotus speaks of the bravery and skill of the purely Persian troops. But the conquered and incorporated troops proved to be a hindrance rather than an asset. But I also think that the Athenian victory was part psychological. They ran at the Persians — they actually attacked! Herodotus hints at the shock the Persians must have felt under such a circumstance. In Greece, Persia would meet a people who refused to accept their ‘deal.’ The fact that Persia needed to build a navy to deal with this threat put them in an unusual position, like fish out of water. We will see in a few months how and why the Greeks defeated Persia when their clash grows into something much more than a skirmish.
I am guessing that many of you have seen this video from Boston Dynamics:
Most of the comments either say that this is the greatest or worst thing ever. I asked a science teacher friend of mine for his reaction. He said, “Really cool and impressive, but . . . also terrifying.” I had a similar, but flipped, reaction. I find the video viscerally horrible, and I had the strong urge to reach through the screen and smash the robots with baseball bats. But I have to admit–it is pretty cool.
“Both-And” trumps “Either-Or” in this instance, and so far my friend and I agree. But we can’t both be right in our emphasis.
In the pseudepigraphal Book of Enoch*, an apocalyptic text associated with Second Temple Judaism, we read of a “metal mountain” in chapter 52.
And after those days, in that place where I had seen all the visions of that which is secret, for I had been carried off by a whirlwind, and they had brought me to the west. There my eyes saw the secrets of Heaven; everything that will occur on Earth: a mountain of iron, and a mountain of copper, and a mountain of silver, and a mountain of gold, and a mountain of soft metal, and a mountain of lead.
And I asked the Angel who went with me, saying: “What are these things which I have seen in secret?”
And he said to me: “All these things which you have seen serve the authority of His Messiah, so that he may be strong and powerful on the Earth.” And that Angel of Peace answered me, saying: “Wait a little and you will see, and everything which is secret, which the Lord of Spirits has established, will be revealed to you.
And these mountains, that you have seen; the mountain of iron, and the mountain of copper, and the mountain of silver, and the mountain of gold, and the mountain of soft metal, and the mountain of lead. All these in front of the Chosen One will be like wax before fire, and like the water that comes down from above onto these mountains they will be weak under his feet. And it will come to pass in those days, that neither by gold, nor by silver, will men save themselves; they will be unable to save themselves, or to flee.
And there will be neither iron for war nor material for a breastplate; bronze will be no use, and tin will be of no use and will count for nothing, and lead will not be wanted. All these will be wiped out and destroyed from the face of the earth when the Chosen One appears in front of the Lord of Spirits.”
I am no scholar of such literature, but I believe a connection exists with the meaning of robots for us now and our current political situation–why both are full of wonder and terror all at once.
I begin my case in what seem will think a strange place . . .
We all remember the excitement of dating our spouse, or even dating in general. At the root of this excitement lies the mystery of possibility. A dating relationship has a great deal of “potential energy,” to use a scientific term. But we must convert this potential into actual energy, or the “potential” is dead and meaningless. We see the same relationship with money. If I receive an Amazon gift card, it is always fun browsing and imagining what I might purchase. Sometimes the actual purchase fails to live up to the fun of ‘window shopping.’ But if I never actually converted potential reality (the gift card) into lived reality (the book I would read), then the gift card is “dead,” lacking any purpose or telos.**
It is no coincidence that money–which represents a multiplicity of possible reality, comes from the earth in the form of precious metals. We can see the “mountain of metal” in Enoch symbolically as a mass of possibility attempting to reach up to heaven, akin to the Tower of Babel.
Whatever status we accord the Book of Enoch, this interpretation should not surprise anyone reading the early chapters of Genesis. Here we see that it is Cain and his descendants that cultivate the earth for its potential. They develop the earth for tools, cities, and weapons. This technological development leads to violence and disaster, the unleashed chaos of the Flood. When we understand that the paradise was located on a mountain (cf. Ez. 28), we understand the Fall as a coming down from “heaven” to “earth,” a physical as well as spiritual descent.^ After murdering his brother, Cain descends further into the earth in the development of various technologies. He becomes enamored with potentiality, and his descendants develop it for violent ends. We usually see new technologies creating disruption. While it might be a chicken-egg situation, I think the pattern in Genesis points to
First, chaos, then
Might the 1960’s show forth this pattern? We had large scale social upheaval starting around 1959, then the space-race/moon landing.
The metal mountain–a mountain full of “dead” metal, can also be contrasted with the paradisal mountain bursting with life in Gen. 1-2. No one expects to see a mountain lush with life, but this is the kind of paradox that suffuses Christian truth. Perhaps the metal mountain can be seen as a kind of anti-paradise. Most every culture has some kind of sacred mountain, as mountains represent a union of heaven and earth. The metal mountain, then, would represent a bastardization of this reality, an “earth only” mountain.
This is not to say that all cities, shovels, trumpets, and swords are evil in themselves, any more than the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was evil. But Adam and Eve were not ready for such a gift, not ready for the power such knowledge would convey. Acquiring this knowledge before its appointed time severed them from God, each other, and themselves. The theme of dangerous and thus forbidden knowledge has a reflection in other mythologies, most familiarly for us in the story of Prometheus who brought the tools of civilization to humanity.
So, yes, I fear the robots, not because they are evil but because I don’t think we can possibly handle such things rightly in our current moment. But I must acknowledge the romance of the “potential” the robots convey, just as I love to receive Amazon gift cards.
We can understand our current political situation with the same symbolic framework.
There are those on both the right and the left that want nothing to do with the mundane realities of “married” political life. Some on the left looted Portland for weeks, and others occupied Seattle. Some on the right did something similar with the Capitol. Both sides have elements within them that want to transcend politics, that want a divorce from the constitutional order. They are enamored with the possibilities of a brand-new trophy wife. Those on the left envision a utopia of equality from below. Those on the right envision a strong Caesar from above to lead them to glory and defend them from all evil. Both imagine a perfect marriage to Brad Pitt or Emma Stone is theirs for the taking. Again–we cannot deny the intoxicating nature of “potential.” Gold has always exercised this spell.
Many have remarked how social media, which exponentially increases the potential power of language, has exacerbated this problem. This makes perfect sense when we see language as the manifestation of potential from the earth, much like gold or silver coins.
In his The Language of Creation Matthieu Pageau develops this idea convincingly, and what follows here merely seeks to condense his description. If we think of letters as random marks condensed into form, we can see that this process of incarnating ideas in language essentially boils down to turning potential into reality, the same as turning a hunk of iron into a sword. First, the basic union of Heaven and Earth pattern illustrated by Pageau as developed in Scripture:
We should note well that “symbol” here means not an ephemeral representation of something real, but instead an embodiment of meaning, something more real than a mere fact.
Forgive the crude nature of the drawing below which attempts to illustrate the principle as it applies to language (also stolen from Pageau):
The internet adds even more potential to the reach of the human mind, and it is both terrifying and glorious.
The current political climate mostly reflects this terrifying aspect of the internet. Imagine our body politic as the guy in a marriage who constantly gets different women paraded before him, an endless array of options and perspectives. He might eventually grow tired of his wife, with so much intriguing “potential” before his eyes. Many elites and institutions have lost trust, and this accelerates the problem. But these untested political realities are the elusive fantasy girlfriend that you never have to live real life with.
Exposing ourselves to robots during such a chaotic time (in fact such things are more likely to appear during chaotic times–just like Cain’s tool-making was directly preceded by his wandering) may greatly exacerbate the “meaning crisis.” We should not storm the Capitol, ransack Portland, or mess around with dancing robots.
But . . . as much as we should hedge and protect our current political symbols and institutions, our political life is akin to, but not the same as, our sacramental married life. The unformed potential is not evil, but how we use it might be. No good can come to a husband witnessing a parade of super-models, but our political life needs more “give” than a marriage to stay fresh and alert. A political system needs to occasionally integrate new ideas. But the only thing one can do during a flood is batten down the hatches. Twitter, Facebook, Youtube–who can doubt they bring a “flood” of “biblical proportions?”
As usual, Genesis gives us the pattern from which to operate. We have the paradisal mountain with four rivers flowing through it. The mountain encases the dynamism of the rivers–“change” safely residing within solidity. Without this solidity, even small challenges to existing order will pose an existential threat. Maybe conservatives will have to tone down market dynamism. Maybe liberals will have de-escalate the speed of social change. Maybe that works, but we’ll need to turn our keys at the same time.
*The Book of Enoch is not regarded as canonical Scripture for any Christian group except the Ethiopian Orthodox. But, it was a book held in great respect by the early Church. The Apostle Jude quotes it in his epistle. We may say that it was part of the vernacular, perhaps, of the early Christians.
**It is in translating the “potential” into reality that determines a good or bad marriage. The husband/wife run the risk of things growing “dead” through the lack of potential. This can lead to affairs, or more benignly to the buying of sports cars. This is one reason (among others) why couples should have children–to have new “potential” come into reality. After a couple completes the child-rearing stage, which for many can last into their 50’s, they enter a new transformative phase of “death to glory.” The couple can no longer generate new “potential life,” and their hair grows gray. But even their gray hair manifests glory–“white light” streaming from their heads.
This week we examined four crisis that led to the outbreak of war in 1914. In American World War II has always gotten more attention, but in Europe “the War” is still World War I, and I think with good reason. World War II can be seen as a continuation of the first World War, and it was the first World War which ushered ended one world and brought forth another.
The outbreak of such a devastating conflict gives us a couple key points of focus:
Tension between Diplomacy and the Military — Diplomats, by their nature and job description, like to keep their options open and maintain the greatest possible flexibility. This allows for the greatest amount of possible outcomes, and in their view, a greater chance for peace.
The military of course, needs to be fully prepared to face the worse case scenario, which is war. It is wrong to view the military as always wanting war. But, it is not unusual for them to argue that, in the event of war, we must be ready. So often, political leaders will begin military preparedness in the midst of negotiations. This rush to prepare, to call up troops, amass weapons, etc. inevitably narrows the options of the diplomats negotiating for peace. If they are not careful, events will take on a life all their own. In times of crisis, the goals of the diplomat and the general can easily veer in separate directions.
One of the problems in the days leading up to World War I was that in the minds of many ‘Mobilization means war.’ Once the Russian military began it’s mobilization, for example, Germany felt it must mobilize, and other countries followed suit on down the line. It could be argued that no one really wanted war (this is debatable), but how could war be avoided if every nation acted as if war was imminent?
The Problem of Interpretation — As is often said by BIblical scholars, no one disagrees on what the Bible says (except in rare cases), they disagree on what it means. It boils down to interpretation. In the same way, does a strong military buildup send the message that 1) We are getting ready to fight you and want to be strong enough to win, or 2) We are a peaceful nation that wants a large military to deter any future attack. If we were weak, we would be vulnerable, and invite war. Thus, it is in the interest of peace that we build up our military.
The buildup of the German navy, for example, brings these issues into sharper focus. For the entirety of the 19th century, England put nearly all of its security eggs in their naval basket. They maintained one of the smallest infantries in Europe. When Germany united in 1871 they immediately had the largest and best infantry in Europe. This in itself posed no threat to England. But in the 1890’s Germany begins a significant naval buildup, and one can have two basic perspectives.
Germany is a nation like any other, and with a powerful industrialized economy will come the desire to have a powerful navy. This is only natural. Secondly, France and Russia have an alliance against them, and to prevent blockade and encirclement in the event of war, it is only fair, just, and reasonable that they have a well-equipped modern navy. Germany’s navy is rooted in self-defense, not aggression.
By building a navy, Germany did the one thing guaranteed to provoke England and turn them against themselves. Their naval buildup was not necessary, so it cannot be termed self-defense. England is their biggest trading partner and so any worries they have concerning their trade England can cover. The only reason for Germany to build a navy, therefore, must be that they want to change the status quo, which they can only do through aggressive action. The German navy means that Germany poses a distinct threat.