Religion and Politics (TS A)	Religion and Politics (TS B)	Religion and Politics. Abbr. Version (TS C)	Religion and Politics (TS D)	Religion and Politics
1
Religion and Politics1	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Religion and Politics (abbr. version) 1	Religion and Politics1	Religion and Politics1
2
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	RELIGION AND POLITICS	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
3
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	One of the surprising by-products of the struggle between the free and the totalitarian world has been a strong tendency to interpret the conflict in religious terms. Communism, we are told, is a new ‘1secular religion’2 against which the Free World3 defends its own transcendent ‘4religious system’.5 This theory has larger implications than its immediate occasion; it has brought ‘6religion’7 back into the realm of public-political affairs from which it had8 been banished ever since the separation of Church and State. By the same token, although its defenders often are9 not aware of it10, it has put the almost forgotten problem of the relationship between religion and politics once more on the agenda of political science.	One of the surprising by-products of the struggle between the free and the totalitarian world has been a strong tendency to interpret the conflict in religious terms. Communism, we are told, is a new “1secular religion”2 against which the free world3 defends its own transcendent “4religious system.”5 This theory has larger implications than its immediate occasion; it has brought “6religion”7 back into the realm of public-political affairs from which it has8 been banished ever since the separation of Church and State. By the same token, although its defenders are often9 not aware of this10, it has put the almost forgotten problem of the relationship between religion and politics once more on the agenda of political science.
4
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[metamark (text connection)] The first ideology to be denounced or praised as a new religion was atheism, and many who today think that Communism is a new, secular religion, believe also that atheism is at its very center.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
5
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 different kind of freedom	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
6
I	I	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	I
7
The question whether the present struggle between the Free World and Communism is “at its foundation a religious one” or a “pure power struggle” carefully avoids a third alternative: whether it is basically an ideological one. This happens to be my own opinion, and it1 is obvious that this view has more in common with the theory of2 a religious struggle than with the one that sees in it only a variation of the old game of power politics3. The following considerations concern themselves, therefore, mainly with what this apparently merely semantic difference means, or whether4 the substitution of the word “5religion” for the word “ideology” is justified6.	The question whether the present struggle between the Free World and Communism is “at its foundation a religious one” or a “pure power struggle” carefully avoids a third alternative: whether it is basically an ideological one. This happens to be my own opinion, and it1 is obvious that this view has more in common with the theory of2 a religious struggle than with the one that sees in it only a variation of the old game of power politics3. The following considerations concern themselves, therefore, mainly with what this apparently merely semantic difference means, or whether4 the substitution of the word “5religion” for the word “ideology” is justified6.	The question whether the present struggle between the Free World and Communism is “at its foundation a religious one” or a “pure power struggle” carefully avoids the word ‘ideology’ and with it a third alternative, namely whether this1 is a struggle between freedom of thought and action on one side and2 a system which combines and complements outer coercion through terror with inner coercion through ideological training on the other3. The assumption is that Communist ideological reasoning concerns the same questions and gives an answer to4 the same problems as traditional5 religion. This, I believe, is not true6.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
8
|2 [metamark (text connection)]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
9
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	If we use the term ideology, it first looks as though, as in the case of a basically religious struggle, two ways of interpretation are open: either the struggle is between two different ideological systems, or it is between ideology and freedom. A struggle between two ideological systems occurred for a brief historical moment when racist Germany attacked Bolshevik Russia, but this can hardly apply to the fight of the Free World; it would be a condition in terms, or it would render the word “ideology” altogether meaningless, if we were to conceive of an ideology whose leading “idea” was freedom. It is in the nature of the ideological isms that they explain by one “idea” an allegedly necessary historical process, of progress or of doom, and that they demonstrate its necessity by an argument as compulsorily cogent as some purely logical chains of coercive conclusions where everything is deduced from a single premise whose truth is assumed to be self-evident and axiomatic. The absolute consistency in the demonstration of ideological |2 processes corresponds to the alleged necessity with which they take place; this logicality gives the argument a force of inner coercion to which no other thinking can lay claim. Freedom, in other words, is conspicuously absent not only from the allegedly real processes themselves, but also from ideological argumentation. Moreover, neither of the two totalitarian systems we know has ever claimed to be free. Freedom, in their opinion, be it freedom of action or freedom of thought, is a minor and in the long run irrelevant obstacle in the path of historical necessity; freedom, in the formulation of Lenin but in the opinion of all totalitarian-minded people, is a prejudice.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
10
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The interpretation of the new political ideologies as political, or secular, or immanentist1 religions has curiously2, and3 perhaps not accidentally, followed Marx’s well-known denunciation of all religions as mere ideologies. But its true origin is even older. Not Communism, but atheism was the first ism to be denounced or praised as a new religion. This sounds like, and originally was meant to be, no more than a witty paradox until Dostoevsky and many after him gave it some substance. Atheism then5 was recognized to be6 more than the rather stupid claim to know and7 be able to prove the non-existence of God; it was taken to mean an actual rebellion of modern man against God Himself8. In Nietzsche’s9 words: “If there were a God, how could I bear not to be one.”	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The interpretation of the new political ideologies as political, or secular, or immanentist1 religions has curiously2, and3 perhaps not accidentally, followed Marx’s well-known denunciation of all religions as mere ideologies. But its true origin is even older. Not Communism, but atheism was the first ism to be denounced or praised as a new religion. This sounds like, and originally was meant to be, no more than a witty paradox until Dostoevsky and many after him gave it some substance. Atheism5 was more than the rather stupid claim to know and7 be able to prove the non-existence of God; it was taken to mean an actual rebellion of modern man against God Himself8. In Nietzsche’s9 words: “If there were a God, how could I bear not to be one.”	The interpretation of the new political ideologies as political, or secular, religions has paradoxically2, though,3 perhaps not accidentally, followed Marx’s well-known denunciation of all religions as mere ideologies. But its true origin is even older. Not Communism, but atheism,4 was the first ism to be denounced or praised as a new religion. This sounds like, and originally was meant to be, no more than a witty paradox until Dostoevsky and many after him gave it some substance. For atheism5 was something6 more than the rather stupid claim to be able to prove the non-existence of God; it was taken to mean an actual rebellion of modern man against God himself8. In Nietszche’s9 words: “If there were a God, how could I bear not to be one.”
11
Among1 the isms2, atheism can claim to be a special case; the justification3 for calling it a religion, which applies to no other ideology, is closely connected with modern religious beliefs themselves4, as they have grown up and become authoritative in an era of secularity. Ever since the rise of the natural sciences in5 the 17th century6, belief no less than8 non-belief had9 its source in doubt; Kierkegaard’s famous theory10 of the leap into belief had its predecessor in Pascal14, in15 that both [metamark (text connection)]replied16 to Descartes’: De omnibus dubitandum est.17 |3 [metamark (text connection)]	Among1 the isms2, atheism can claim to be a special case; the justification3 for calling it a religion, which applies to no other ideology, is closely connected with modern religious beliefs themselves4, as they have grown up and become authoritative in an era of secularity. Ever since the rise of the natural sciences in5 the 17th century6, belief no less than8 non-belief had9 its source in doubt; Kierkegaard’s famous theory10 of the leap into belief had its predecessor in Pascal14, in15 that both reply16 to Descartes: De omnibus |3 dubitandum est. They hold that universal doubt, existentially is an impossible, self-contradictory and self-destroying attitude, unfit for human reason because the doubt itself is subject to doubt. Doubt, as Kierkegaard says, “is not defeated through the system (sc. of all attainable knowledge H. A.), but through belief, just as belief has brought doubt into the world.” Modern belief, which has leaped from doubt into belief, and modern atheism, which has leaped from doubt into non-belief, have this in common: both are grounded in modern spiritual secularism and have decided its inherent perplexities by a violent resolution once and for all. As far as religion is concerned, it may be that the leap into belief has done more to undermine its unquestioned authority than the usually trite arguments of professional enlighteners or the vulgar arguments of professional atheists. The leap from doubt into belief could not but carry doubt into belief, so that from then on religious life itself began to assume the curious tension between atheistic blasphemous doubt and belief, as we see it in the great psychological masterpieces of Dostoevsky.17	The first ideology to be denounced or praised as a new religion was atheism, and many who today think that Communism is a new, albeit “secular religion”, believe also that its main characteristic is atheism. Among1 the isms2, only atheism has a direct connection with religion and therefore can claim to be a special case. The justification3 for calling it a religion is closely connected with modern religious beliefs themselves4, as they have grown up and become authoritative in an era of secularity. Ever since the rise of the natural sciences in5 the 17th century6, belief no less than8 non-belief had9 its source in doubt; Kierkegaard’s famous theory10 of the leap into belief had its predecessor in Pascal14, in15 that both replied16 to Descartes’ De omnibus dubitandum est, everything must be doubted.17	The justification for calling atheisma religion, is closely connected with the nature of religious beliefs in an era of secularity. Ever since the rise of the natural sciences in the 17th century, belief no less than non-belief had its source in doubt; Kierkegaard’s famous theory of1 the leap into belief had its predecessor in Pascal2, in that both reply to Descartes’ De omnibus dubitandum est. They hold that universal doubt is an impossible, self-contradictory and self-destroying attitude, unfit3 for human reason because the doubt itself is subject to doubt. Doubt4, as Kierkegaard says, “is not defeated through the system of all attainable knowledge H.A. but through belief, just as belief has brought doubt into5 the world.” Modern belief6, which has leaped from doubt into7 belief, and modern atheism, which has leaped from doubt into8 non-belief, have this in common: both are grounded in modern spiritual secularism and have decided9 its inherent perplexities by a violent resolution once and for all. As far as religion is concerned, it may be that the leap into belief has done more to undermine authentic faith than the usually trite arguments10 of professional enlighteners or11 the vulgar arguments of professional atheists. The12 leap from doubt13 into belief could not but carry doubt into belief14, so15 that from then religious life itself |3 began16 to assume the curious tension between atheistic blasphemous doubt and belief, as we see it in the great psychological masterpieces of Dostoevsky.17	The justification for calling atheism a religion is closely connected with the nature of religious beliefs in an era of secularity. Ever since the rise of the natural sciences in the 17th century, belief no less than non-belief has had its source in doubt; Kierkegaard’s famous theory of1 the leap into belief had its predecessor in Pascal2, and like Pascal attempts to reply to Descartes’s De omnibus dubitandum est, everything is to be doubted. They hold that universal doubt is an impossible, self-contradictory, and self-destroying attitude, unfit3 for human reason because the doubt itself is subject to doubt. Doubt4, according to Kierkegaard, “is not defeated through knowledge but through belief, just as belief has brought doubt into5 the world.” Modern belief6, which has leaped from doubt into7 belief, and modern atheism, which has leaped from doubt into8 non-belief, have this in common: both are grounded in modern spiritual secularism and have evaded9 its inherent perplexities by a violent resolution once and for all. Indeed, it may be that the leap into belief has done more to undermine authentic faith than the usually trite arguments10 of professional enlighteners or11 the vulgar arguments of professional atheists. The12 leap from doubt13 into belief could not but carry doubt into belief14, so15 that religious life itself began16 to assume that curious tension between atheistic blasphemous doubt and belief as we know it from the great psychological masterpieces of Dostoevsky.17
12
Spiritually ur world is1 a secular world because it is3 a world of doubt. If we wanted to eliminate doubt4 in true earnest, we would6 have to eliminate modern science and its transformation of the world. Modern science is based on a philosophy of doubt,7 as distinguished from ancient science which was8 based on a philosophy of θαυμάζειν9, of wonder at that which is as it is. Instead10 of marvelling at the miracles of the universe which revealed themselves in their appearance to human senses and reason,11 we began to suspect12 that things might not be what they seemed13 to be. Only when we began to distrust our sense perceptions,14 could we make the discovery15 that contrary to all daily experience the the16 earth revolves around the sun. From this basic distrust of appearances, this17 doubt that appearance itself reveals18 truth, two radically different conclusions could be drawn: Pascal’s despair that “les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences” from which comes the19 “recognition of human misery without God,20” or the modern scientific21 pragmatic affirmation that I can know only what I make, and that22 truth itself23 is by no means a revelation but rather a process of [metamark (text connection)]ever-changing24 patterns of working hypotheses. Against this scientific optimis [metamark (text connection)] stands the modern religious insight that no process of doubting and no working hypotheses will ever give satisfactory answers to the riddle of the universe and the more disturbing riddle of man himself. But this insight is nourished by the same thirst for knowledge and the fundamental loss of faith in the truth-revealing capacity of appearance itself that lies at the basis |4 of our whole world.25	Our world is spiritually1 a secular world because it is3 a world of doubt. If we wanted to eliminate doubt4 in the5 true earnest, we would6 have to eliminate modern science and its transformation of the world. Modern science is based on a philosophy of doubt,7 as distinguished from ancient science which was8 based on a philosophy of thaumadzein9, of wonder at that which is as it is. Instead10 of marvelling at the miracles of the universe which revealed themselves in their appearance to human senses and reason,11 we began to suspect12 that things might not be what they seemed13 to be. Only when we began to distrust our sense perceptions,14 could we make the discovery15 that contrary to all daily experience the earth revolves around the sun. From this basic distrust of appearances, this17 doubt that appearance itself reveals18 truth, two radically different conclusions could be drawn: Pascal’s despair that |4 les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences from which comes the19 “recognition of human misery without God,20” or the modern scientific21 pragmatic affirmation that I can know only what I make, and that22 truth itself23 is by no means a revelation but rather a process of ever-changing24 patterns of working hypotheses. (Because our traditional religion is essentially a revealed religion and holds, in harmony with ancient philosophy, that true is what reveals itself, that truth is revelation, modern science has become a so much more formidable enemy of it than ancient philosophy ever could be. This radically different understanding of truth is even more decisive than the opposition of transcendence versus immanance.) Against this scientific optimism which, though it is no longer frankly atheistic, still must assume that the question of the existence of God is irrelevant to the (admittedly limited) possibilities of human knowledge, stands the modern religious insight that no process of doubting and no working hypotheses will ever give satisfactory answers to the riddle of the universe and the more disturbing riddle of man himself. But this insight is nourished by the same thirst for knowledge and the fundamental loss of faith in the truth-revealing capacity of appearance itself that lies at the basis of our whole world.25	Spiritually, though not politically, we have lived in1 a secular world ever since the 17th century,2 because we have lived in3 a world of doubt. If we wanted to eliminate doubt4 in true earnest, we would6 have to eliminate modern science and its transformation of the world, because modern science7 as distinguished from ancient and medieval science is8 based on a philosophy of doubting9, of mistrusting, first10 of all, our sense perceptions; only when11 we suspected12 that things might not be what they seem13 to be,14 could we discover15 that contrary to all daily experience the earth revolves around the sun. The same17 doubt questions the18 truth revealing capacity of reason, as Descartes knew already too well, and from it can spring either Pascal’s19 “recognition of human misery without God” or the more recent21 pragmatic affirmation that we know only what we make and that22 truth is an empty word for the ever changing24 patterns of working hypotheses. Against this scientific attitude which is sometimes mistaken for optimism, while in fact it is so pessimistic that it does not even dare to raise ultimate questions, stands the modern religious insight that doubt by itself will never give satisfactory answers to the riddle of the universe and the more disturbing riddle of man himself . But this insight is nour- |2 51 ished by the same thirst for knowledge and the same fundamental loss of faith in the truth-revealing capacity of appearance that lies at the basis of our whole world.25	Our world is spiritually1 a secular world because it is3 a world of doubt. If we wanted to eliminate doubt4 in true earnest, we would6 have to eliminate modern science and its transformation of the world. Modern science is based on a philosophy of doubt,7 as distinguished from ancient science which was8 based on a philosophy of θαυμαζειν thaumadzein9, of wonder at that which is as it is. Instead10 of marvelling at the miracles of the universe which revealed themselves in their appearance to human senses and reason,11 we began to suspect12 that things might not be what they seemed. Only when we began13 to distrust our sense perceptions,14 could we make the discovery15 that contrary to all daily experience the the16 earth revolves around the sun. From this basic distrust of appearances, this17 doubt that appearance itself reveals18 truth, two radically different conclusions could be drawn: Pascal’s despair that “les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences” from which comes the19 “recognition of human misery without God,20” or the modern scientific21 pragmatic affirmation that I can know only what I make, and that22 truth itself23 is by no means a revelation but rather a process of ever-changing24 patterns of working hypotheses. Against this scientific optimism [gap]which, though it is no longer frankly atheistic, still must assume that the question of the existence of God is irrelevant to the (admittedly limited) possibilities of human knowledge, stands the modern religious insight that no process of doubting and no working hypotheses will ever give satisfactory answers to the riddle of the universe and the more disturbing riddle of man himself. But this insight is nourished by the same thirst for knowledge and the same fundamental loss of faith in the truth-revealing capacity of appearance itself that lies at the basis |4 of our whole world.25	Our world is spiritually1 a secular world precisely2 because it is3 a world of doubt. If we wanted to eliminate secularity4 in true earnest, we should6 have to eliminate modern science and its transformation of the world. Modern science is based on a philosophy of doubt,7 as distinguished from ancient science which was8 based on a philosophy of thaumadzein9, or wonder at that which is as it is. Instead10 of marveling at the miracles of the universe which revealed themselves in their appearance to human senses and reason,11 we began to suspect12 that things might not be what they seemed. Only when we began13 to distrust our sense perceptions14 could we make the discovery15 that contrary to all daily experience the earth revolves around the sun. From this basic distrust of appearances, this17 doubt that appearance reveals18 truth, two radically different conclusions could be drawn: Pascal’s despair that “les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences” from which comes the19 “recognition of human misery without God,20” or the modern scientific21 pragmatic affirmation that truth itself23 is by no means a revelation but rather a process of ever-changing24 patterns of working hypotheses.
13
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The1 religious character2 of such doubt3 is indicated4 in the accompanying5 suspicion that an evil spirit, and not divine Providence, set6 limits to human thirst for knowledge, that a higher being willfully may8 deceive us. And this9 suspicion could rise only10 out of a thirst12 for security of knowledge so passionate that it made its holder forget that human freedom of thought and action is possible only under conditions of limited knowledge.14	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The1 religious character2 of the doubt permeating the modern world3 is indicated4 in the accompanying5 suspicion that an evil spirit, and not divine Providence, set6 limits to human thirst for knowledge, that a higher being willfully may8 deceive us. And this9 suspicion could rise only10 out of a thirst12 for security of knowledge so passionate that it made forget ?14	Against the scientific optimism which must assume that the question of the existence of God is irrelevant to the (admittedly limited) possibilities of human knowledge, stands the modern1 religious insight that no process2 of doubting and no working hypotheses will ever yield satisfactory answers to the riddle of the nature of the universe and the more disturbing riddle of man himself. But this insight only reveals once more the thirst for knowledge and the same fundamental loss of faith in the truth-revealing capacity of appearance, be it in the form of divine or natural revelation, that lies at the basis of the modern world. The religious character of modern doubt3 is still clearly present4 in the Cartesian5 suspicion that an evil spirit, and not divine Providence, sets6 limits to the7 human thirst for knowledge, that a higher being may willfully8 deceive us. This9 suspicion could only rise10 out of so passionate11 a desire12 for security that men forgot that human freedom13 of thought and action is possible only under conditions of insecure and limited knowledge as Kant demonstrated philosophically.14
14
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	that human freedom of thought and action is possible only under conditions of limited knowledge, as Kant demonstrated philosophically.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
15
[metamark (text connection)]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
16
Modern religious belief is the1 “belief to know” of those who doubt that knowledge is possible at all. As such, it2 is distinguished from pure faith, whose existence or non-existence in the modern world has little to do with its fundamentally secular character. But it is noteworthy that3 the same great writer Dostoev.4 who presented to us in so many figures the modern religious tension between belief and doubt,5 could show a figure of true faith only in the character of an “Idiot”.6 Modern religious man belongs7 in the same secular world as his8 atheistic opponent9 precisely because he is no10 “idiot11” in it. The modern believer who cannot bear the tension between doubt and belief will immediately lose the integrity and the profundity of his belief. The12 justification of the apparent paradox of calling atheism a religion, in brief, comes13 from the mental familiarity of the greatest of modern religious thinkers--Pascal, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky--14with atheistic experience15.	Modern religious belief is the1 “belief to know” of those who doubt that knowledge is possible at all. As such, it2 is distinguished from pure faith, whose existence or non-existence in the modern world has little to do with |5 its fundamentally secular character. But it is noteworthy that3 the same great writer4 who presented to us in so many figures the modern religious tension between belief and doubt,5 could show a figure of true faith only in the character of an “Idiot.”6 Modern religious man belongs7 in the same secular world as his8 atheistic opponent9 precisely because he is no10 “idiot11” in it. The modern believer who cannot bear the tension between doubt and belief will immediately lose the integrity and the profundity of his belief. The12 justification of the apparent paradox of calling atheism a religion, in brief, comes13 from the mental familiarity of the greatest of modern religious thinkers-- Pascal, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky--14with atheistic experience15.	Modern religious belief is secular in the sense that it is a1 “belief to know” of those who doubt that knowledge is possible at all. As such, it2 is by no means an arbitrary opinion, but an opinion nevertheless, against which stands the arbitrary and foolish opinion of atheism, of the men who believe to know that there is no God. Religious beliefs are part and parcel of3 the secular world, but they are not the same as faith. It is noteworthy that Dostoevsky4 who presented to us in so many figures the modern religious tension between belief and doubt,5 could show a figure of true faith only in the character of an “idiot”.6 Modern religious men belong7 in the same secular world as their8 atheistic opponents9 precisely because they are not10 “idiots11” in it. The justification of the apparent paradox of calling atheism a religion, in brief comes13 from the mental familiarity of the greatest of modern religious thinkers with atheistic experiences15[metamark ].	For this reason, too, odern religious belief is the1 “belief to know” of those who doubt that knowledge is possible at all. , it2 is distinguished from pure faith . But it is noteworthy that3 the same great writer4 who presented to us in so many figures the modern religious tension between belief and doubt,5 could show a figure of true faith only in the character of The Idiot.6 Modern religious man belongs7 in the same secular world as his8 atheistic opponent9 precisely because he is no10 “idiot11” in it. The modern believer who cannot bear the tension between doubt and belief will immediately lose the integrity and the profundity of his belief. The12 justification of the apparent paradox of calling atheism a religion, in brief, comes13 from the mental familiarity of the greatest of modern religious thinkers -- Pascal, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky --14 with atheistic experience15.	Modern religious belief is distinguished from pure faith because it is the1 “belief to know” of those who doubt that knowledge is possible at all. It2 is noteworthy that3 the great writer4 who presented to us in so many figures the modern religious tension between belief and doubt could show a figure of true faith only in the character of The Idiot.6 Modern religious man belongs7 in the same secular world as his8 atheistic opponent9 precisely because he is no10 “idiot11” in it. The modern believer who cannot bear the tension between doubt and belief will immediately lose the integrity and the profundity of his belief. The12 justification of the apparent paradox of calling atheism a religion, in brief, derived13 from the mental familiarity of the greatest of modern religious thinkers--Pascal, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky--14with atheistic experience15.
17
Our question, however, is1 not whether in calling Communism a religion we can call believers and non-believers by2 the same name3, but whether the Communist ideology still4 belongs in the same category and the same tradition of doubt and secularism that gave this nominal identification5 a more than formalistic plausibility.[metamark (text connection)] |5 [metamark (text connection)]	Our question, however, ist1 not whether in calling Communism a religion we can call believers and non-believers by2 the same name3, but whether the Communist ideology still4 belongs in the same category and the same tradition of doubt and secularism that gave this nominal indentification5 a more than formalistic plausibility. Communism as an ideology is not identical with atheism. The atheism of non-believers can hardly be called an ideology, because they do not pretend to explain the course of all events with its “idea”, the non-existence of God. Atheism as an ideology is a rather weak and non-consequential attempt to counter the ideology of deism, for which God has ceased to be a living God, the Creator of the world, and has become an all-explaining “idea”, a mental category usually needed for the explanation of history as progress. Communism pretends to have found the law of historical movement, but does not ascribe to it “what believers of traditional religions ascribe to God.” Only deists, ideologists themselves, may have done this, while traditional religion, for which God is no idea with which to explain the course of the world, cannot possibly ascribe to God “social development.” If believers ascribe to God social development, they can no longer be counted among the adherents |6 of traditional religion; they have become ideologists themselves who transform the religious concept of a Divine Providence, whose ways are inscrutable to man, into a demonstrable course of human progress. In other words, even if Communism were primarily atheistic, it would not be a counter- religion (as long as we understand a religion in traditional historical terms and do not assume that everything that cannot be proved scientifically is for this reason alone “religious”), but the opposite of the deistic ideology.7	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Our question, however, is1 not whether in calling Communism a religion we can call believers and non-believers by2 the same name3, but whether the Communist ideology still4 belongs in the same category and the same tradition of doubt and secularism that gave this nominal identification5 a more than formalistic plausibility. Communism as an ideology is not identical with atheism. The atheism of non-believers can hardly be called an ideology, because they do not pretend to explain the course of all events with its “idea,” the non-existence of God. Atheism as an ideology is a rather weak and non-consequential attempt to counter the ideology of deism, for which God has ceased to be a living God, the Creator of the world, and has become an all-explaining “idea,” a mental category usually needed for the explanation of history as progress. Communism pretends to have found the law of |5 historical movement, but does not ascribe to it “what believers of traditional religions ascribe to God.” Rather he secularization of the religious concept of Divine Providence, whose ways are inscrutable to man, into demonstrable human progress due to a heritage of deistic beliefs rather than to dialectical materialism and its iron law of history. In other words, even if Communism were primarily atheistic, it would not be a counter-religion ( we do not assume that everything than cannot be proved scientifically or is being believed fervently is for such reason “religious”), but the opposite of deistic ideology.7	Our question, however, is1 not whether in calling Communism a religion we have a right to use2 the same term for both believers and non-believers3, but whether the Communist ideology belongs in the same category and the same tradition of doubt and secularism that gave the identification of atheism as5 a religion a6 more than formalistic plausibility. And this is not the case. Atheism is a marginal feature of Communism, and if Communism pretends to know the law of history, it does not ascribe to it “what believers of traditional religions ascribe to God.”7
18
Communism, though it is in a way atheistic, is not the same as atheism. It never even tries to answer specifically religious questions and the negation of a transcendent God is a marginal feature of1 it. It is an error to think that an ideology raises the same questions or gives the same kind of explanations to its adherents as theology gives to believers in a religion. Every theology treats man as an animal rationale who asks questions and whose reason needs reconciliation even if he is expected to believe in that which is beyond reason. An ideology, and Communism more than any other, treats man as though he were a falling stone, endowed with2 the gift of consciousness and therefore capable of observing, while he is falling, Newton’s laws of gravitation. To call Communism a religion [metamark (text connection)] implies an overestimation3 of the role5 [metamark (text connection)]of atheism in Communism, an overestimation6 which easily tempts us to overlook the veritable abyss which seperates the Free World from7 the totalitarian part8 of the globe.	Communism, though it is in a way atheistic, is not the same as atheism. It never even tries to answer specifically religious questions and the negation of a transcendent God is a marginal feature of1 it. It is an error to think that an ideology gives the same kind of explanations to its adherents as theology gives to believers in a religion. Every theology treats man as an animal rationale whose reason needs reconciliation even if he is expected to believe in thet which is beyond reason. An ideology, and Communism more than any other, treats man as though he were a falling stone, endowed with2 the gift of consciousness and therefore capable of observing, while he is falling, Nexton’s law of gravitation. To call Communism a religion implies on the one hand an entirely undeserved compliment, which is dangerous because in the secular world where we actually live all religions are supposed to enjoy equal rights and to tolerate each other. On the other hand, it implies an overestimation3 of the role5 of atheism in Communism, an overestimation6 which is due to our earlier experiences with the still familiar phenomenon of atheism, but which, like all such interpretations which model the unprecedented from well-known precedents, easily tempts us to overlook the veritable abyss which seperates the Free World from7 the totalitarian part8 of the globe.	Our question, however, is not whether in calling Communism a religion we can call believers and non-believers by the same name, but whether the Communist ideology still belongs in the same category and the same tradition of doubt and secularity that gave this nominal identification a more than formalistic plausibility. I think that it is a fact that atheism is not central or specific for Communism at all and that this fact together with a number of other characteristics means that we deal here with a phenomenon which, though1 it grew out of Western history, broke the thread of Western tradition. Religious institutions and convictions are persecuted by Communist regimes, but together with all other social and spiritual bodies of the most divergent attitudes to religion. In a country where even the chess clubs had one day to be liquidated and resurrected in bolshevized fashion, because the playing of “chess for chess’ sake” constituted a challenge to the official ideology, religious persecution cannot very well be ascribed to religious motives. The frequently heard assertion that religion more than any other free activity is felt to be in direct competition with the ruling ideology is not borne out by2 the evidence we have. To be sure, from the side of a priest or a minister, this is a fight for his religion, just as for a philosopher this is a fight for philosophy. For Communism it is nothing of the sort. It is the fight against a world in which all these things--free religion, free philosophy, free art, etc. are possible at all. There is no direct connection between Communism and religion, because Communism never even tries to answer specifically religious questions, it rather makes sure that its ideologically trained adherents will never raise them. Nor does its ideology which deals exclusively with the law3 of historical motion ever give4 the same kind5 of explanations as theology gives to religious believers. Theology treats man as an animal rationale who asks questions and whose reason needs reconciliation even if he is expected to believe in that6 which is beyond reason. Communism in its politically effective totalitarian form treats man as though he were a falling stone, endowed with the gift of consciousness and therefore capable of observing, while he is falling, Newton’s laws of gravitation. To call this doctrine a religion is not only an entirely undeserved compliment; insofar as we conceive of it in accordance with the still very familiar pattern of atheism, it makes us overlook the veritable abyss which separates the Free |3 38 secular world from7 the totalitarian part8 of the globe.	Communism, though1 it denies among many other things the existence of a transcendent God, is not2 the same as atheism. It never tries to answer specifically religious questions, but makes sure that its ideologically trained adherents will never raise them. Nor do ideologies, which always are concerned with the explanation3 of the movement of history, give4 the same kind5 of explication as theology Theology treats man as a reasonable being that asks questions and whose reason needs reconciliation even if he is expected to believe in that6 which is beyond reason. An ideology, and Communism in its politically effective totalitarian form more than any other, treats man as though he were a falling stone, endowed with the gift of consciousness and therefore capable of observing, while he is falling, Newton’s laws of gravitation. To call this totalitarian ideology a religion is not only an entirely undeserved compliment; it also makes us overlook that Bolshevism, though it grew out of Western history, no longer belongs in the same tradition of doubt and secularity, and that its doctrine as well as his actions have opened a veritable abyss between the free world and7 the totalitarian parts8 of the globe.	Communism, as an ideology, though1 it denies among many other things the existence of a transcendent God, is not2 the same as atheism. It never tries to answer religious questions specifically, but makes sure that its ideologically trained adherents will never raise them. Nor do ideologies, which always are concerned with the explanation3 of the movement of history, give4 the same kind5 of explication as theology. Theology treats man as a reasonable being that asks questions and whose reason needs reconciliation even if he is expected to believe in that6 which is beyond reason. An ideology, and Communism in its politically effective totalitarian form more than any other, treats man as though he were a falling stone, endowed with the gift of consciousness and therefore capable of observing, while he is falling, Newton’s laws of gravitation. To call this totalitarian ideology a religion is not only an entirely undeserved compliment; it also makes us overlook that Bolshevism, though it grew out of Western history, no longer belongs in the same tradition of doubt and secularity, and that its doctrine as well as its actions have opened a veritable abyss between the free world and7 the totalitarian parts8 of the globe.
19
Until very recently,1 this whole matter was not much more than a |6 [metamark (text connection)]dispute in terminology, Only during2 the last few years3 has the term “political or5 secular religion” acquired a scholarly standing7.	Until very recently,1 this whole matter was not much more than a dispute in terminology, and the use of the word “political religion” for avowedly |7 anti-religious, political movements not much more than a figure of speech. Certain liberal sympathizers, precisely because they did not understand what was going on in the Russian “great new experiment” were especially fond of the term. Somewhat later, it was used by disappointed socialists who thought that Stalin’s deification of Lenin’s corpse or the allegedly “medieval scholastic” methods of Marxist argumentation were the reason for the backfiring of the Russian Revolution. Only during2 the last few years3 has the term “political or5 secular religion” acquired a scholarly standing7.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Until very recently,1 this whole matter was not much more than a dispute in terminology, and the use of the word “political religion” for avowedly anti-religious, political movements not much more than a figure of speech. Certain liberal sympathizers, precisely because they did not understand what was going on in the Russian “great new experiment,” were especially fond of the term. Somewhat later it was used by disappointed Communists who thought that |6 Stalin’s deification of Lenin’s corpse or the rigidity of Bolshevik reasoning, which reminded them of “medieval scholastic” methods, were the cause for the backfiring of the Russian Revolution. But recently2 the term of “political or secular religion,”3 has been adopted by two quite distinct trends of thought and approach . There is first4 the historical approach for which a5 secular religion is quite literally a religion growing out of the spiritual secularity of our present world so that Communism is only the most radical version of an “immanentist heresy;6” and there is second the approach of the social sciences for which ideology and religion have simply acquired one and the same meaning and which think that Communism (or nationalism or imperialism etc.) fulfills for its adherents a “religious function”, essentially the same function as our religious denominations fulfill in a free society7.	Until very recently this whole matter was not much more than a dispute in terminology, and the use of the word “political religion” for avowedly anti-religious political movements not much more than a figure of speech. Certain liberal sympathizers, precisely because they did not understand what was going on in the Russian “great new experiment,” were especially fond of the term. Somewhat later it was used by disappointed Communists to whom Stalin’s deification of Lenin’s corpse or the rigidity of Bolshevik theory seemed reminiscent of “medieval scholastic” methods. But recently2 the term of “political or secular religion”3 has been adopted by two quite distinct trends of thought and approach. There is first4 the historical approach for which a5 secular religion is quite literally a religion growing out of the spiritual secularity of our present world so that Communism is only the most radical version of an “immanentist heresy.6” And there is second the approach of the social sciences which treat ideology and religion as one and the same thing because they believe that Communism (or nationalism or imperialism, etc.) fulfills for its adherents the same “function” that our religious denominations fulfill in a free society7.
20
Among the scholars2, two quite distinct3 trends of thought and approach should be noticed, although in many published works they run into each other:4 the historical approach, for which a “5secular religion”6 is quite literally a religion growing out of the secularity of our present world and for which Communism is only the most radical version of its immanentist heresy ; and8 the approach of the social sciences which think that Communism for its adherents fulfills a “religious function”, essentially the same function as our religious denominations10 fulfill in a free society11.	Among the scholars2, two quite distinct3 trends of thought and approach should be noticed, although in may published works they run into each other:4 the historical approach, for which a “5secular religion”6 is quite literally a religion growing out of the secularity of our present world; and8 the approach of the social sciences which think that Communism for its adherents fulfills a “religious function,” essentially the same function as our religious denominations10 fulfill in a free society11.	Among those who during1 the last few years have come to call these new political ideologies “religious”2, two quite different3 trends of thought and approach should be noticed. There is first4 the historical approach, for which a secular religion is quite literally a religion growing out of the spiritual7 secularity of our present world and Communism is only8 the most radical version of an immanentist heresy which they believe rules the entire secular world. And there is second the altogether different9 approach of the social sciences which has reversed Marx’s well-known denunciation of religion as mere ideology and for which the two have simply become the same because they allegedly10 fulfill the same social functions11.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
21
II	II	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	II	II
22
The great advantage of the historical interpretation of Communism as a secular religion1 is that it recognizes2 that totalitarian domination and its ideologies are3 not merely deplorable accidents but have [metamark (text connection)]grown out5 of Western history,6 and |7 [metamark (text connection)]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The great advantage of the historical approach1 is that it recognizes2 that totalitarian domination and its ideologies are3 not merely deplorable accidents in Western history and that it discusses this predicament in terms5 of self-understanding and self-criticism. Its specific shortcomings lie in a double misunderstanding of secularity6 and the secular world.7	The great advantage of the historical approach1 is its recognition2 that totalitarian domination is3 not merely a4 deplorable accident in Western history and that its ideologies must be discussed in terms5 of self-understanding and self-criticism. Its specific shortcomings lie in a double misunderstanding of the nature of secularism6 and the secular world.7
23
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The great advantage of the historical interpretation of Communism as a secular religion is that it recognizes that totalitarian domination and its ideologies are not merely deplorable accidents but have grown out of Western history. From this it is concluded that the key to their understanding and defeat can only be found in Western tradition itself: The most spectacular spiritual event of the modern age is the secularization of the world, and its outstanding characteristic is the abandonment of transcendence as the source of all values, its immanentist creed. The abandonment of transcendence, since it was the source of all “values,” has either deprived our life of all meaning or transformed values, which originally were meant to be only the transcendent measurements of earthly events and behavior, |8 into tangible, attainable goals. (Marx’s classless society always serves as the most convenient example and is understood as the secularization of the Messianic age or of Paradise.) This transformation is seen as the hubris of modern man who has arrogated to himself the power of God. Hubris, however, does not spring from a Nitzschean rebellion against God; it is the result of an inevitable process which begins when man loses sight of the transcendent source of his “values” and the transcendent meaning of his earthly destiny. Communism, consequently, is not simply anti-religious, but is the specific perversion, the precisely fitting heretical aberration from orthodox creed. The secular world, if it persists in its secularity, is doomed (the most eminent representative of this theory of secularism, Eric Voegelin, does not hesitate to speak of the “putrefaction” of the West); it will in some such immanentist elements of modernisty. The struggle of the Free World against Communism, therefore, can be successful only to the degree that the Free World opposes its true religious system, its “orthodoxy,” to the immanentist secular heresy of its enemies.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
24
that it discusses the totalitarian predicament openly in terms of self-interpretation and self-criticism. Its shortcomings, as I see it, lie in a double misunderstanding of the secular world itself.1 This, to be sure, brings2 up the grave question of the source of authority of our traditional “values”, of our laws and customs and standards for judgment,3 which for so many centuries had been sanctified by religion and a religiously interpreted transcendence4. But this admittedly long religious history of5 authority does not necessarily6 prove that the concept of [metamark (text connection)]authority itself is7 of a religious, transcendent8 nature. |8 [metamark (text connection)] I do not doubt that one9 of the chief characr teristics of our present crisis is the10 breakdown of all11 authority and the broken thread of our tradition; but from this, it does12 not follow that the crisis is primarily13 religious or has a religious14 origin. It15 does not even16 necessarily imply a crisis of traditional faith, though17 it has endangered the authority of the Churches18 insofar as they are, among other things, also19 public institutions.	The merit of this interpretation lies in that it discusses the totalitarian predicament openly in terms of self-interpretation and self-criticism. Its shortcomings, as I see it, lie in a double misunderstanding of the secular world itself. Secularism, first, does not mean that there is less faith today in the world, but only tht religious creeds and religious institutions as such have no binding authority. (I quite agree with Roman Guardini’s recent statement that secularity of the world, the fact that our daily public existence is without “consciousness of a divine Power,” does not “imply that individuals are becoming increasingly irreligious; but public consciousness is moving increasingly away from religious categories.” However, I would not follow hom to his conclusion that therefore religion whre it exists “is retiring to the ‘inner world.’”)1 This, to be sure, brings2 up the grave question |9 of the source of authority of our traditional “values,” of our laws and customs and standards for judgment,3 which for so many centuries had been sanctified by religion and a religiously interpreted transcendence4. But this admittedly long religious history of5 authority does not necessarily6 prove that the concept of authority itself is7 of a religious, transcendent8 nature. As far as its historical origin is concerned, I think it much more likely that authority, as we understand it in close connection with tradition, is of Roman political origin and was monopolized early by the Church when, after the downfall of the Roman Empire, it became its political as well as spiritual heir. I do not doubt that one9 of the chief characteristic of our present crisis is the10 breakdown of all11 authority and the broken thread of our tradition; but from this, it does12 not follow that the crisis is primarily13 religious or has a religious14 origin. It15 does not even16 necessarily imply a crisis of traditional faith, though17 it has endangered the authority of the Churches18 insofar as they are, among other things, also19 public institutions.	The great advantage of the historical approach is that it recognizes that totalitarian domination and its ideologies are not merely deplorable accidents in Western history and that it understands that this predicament can be discussed only in terms of self-interpretation and self-criticism. Its specific shortcomings, as I see it, lie in a double misunderstanding of secularity. Secularism, first, has a political as well as a spiritual meaning and the two are not necessarily the same. Politically, secularism means no more than that religious creeds and institutions have no publicly binding authority and that, conversely, political life has no religious sanction.1 This, to be sure, brings2 up the grave question of the source of authority of our traditional “values”3 which for so many centuries had been sanctified by religion and a religiously interpreted transcendence4. But this long historical alliance between religion and secular5 authority does not prove that the concept of authority itself is7 of a religious, transcendent8 nature. Authority, as we still understand it in close connection with tradition, is much more likely to be of Roman political than9 of Christian-religious origin. The10 breakdown of public11 authority is12 not of13 religious origin and15 does not necessarily have religious consequences;17 it has endangered the authority of the Churches18 insofar as they are, among other things, also19 public institutions.	Secularism, first, has a political as well as a spiritual meaning and the two are not necessarily the same. Politically, secularism means no more than that religious creeds and institutions have no publicly binding authority and that, conversely, political life has no religious sanction.1 [metamark /][metamark /] This,2 up the grave question of the source of authority of our traditional “values”, of our laws and customs and standards for judgment,3 which for so many centuries had been sanctified by religion and a religiously interpreted transcendence4. But the long alliance between religion and5 authority does not necessarily6 prove that the concept of authority itself is7 of a religious, transcendent8 nature. As far as its historical origin is concerned, I think it much more likely that |7 authority, as we understand it, is of Roman political origin and was monopolized early by the Church when, after the downfall of the Roman Empire, it became its political as well as spiritual heir. I do not doubt that one9 of the chief characr teristics of our present crisis is the10 breakdown of all11 authority and the broken thread of our tradition; but from this, it does12 not follow that the crisis is primarily13 religious or has a religious14 origin. It15 does not even16 necessarily imply a crisis of traditional faith, though17 it has endangered the authority of the Churches18 insofar as they are, among other things, also19 public institutions.	Secularism, to begin with, has a political as well as a spiritual meaning and the two are not necessarily the same. Politically, secularism means no more than that religious creeds and institutions have no publicly binding authority and that, conversely, political life has no religious sanction.1 This brings2 up the grave question of the source of authority of our traditional “values,” of our laws and customs and standards for judgment,3 which for so many centuries had been sanctified by religion. But the long alliance between religion and5 authority does not necessarily6 prove that the concept of authority is itself7 of a religious nature. On the contrary, I think it much more likely that authority, insofar as it is based on tradition, is of Roman political origin and was monopolized by the Church only when it became the political as well as spiritual heir of the Roman Empire. No doubt one9 of the chief characteristics of our present crisis is the10 breakdown of all11 authority and the broken thread of our tradition, but from this it does12 not follow that the crisis is primarily13 religious or has a religious14 origin. It15 does not even16 necessarily imply a crisis of traditional faith, though17 it has endangered the authority of the churches18 insofar as they are, among other things, public institutions.
25
The second misunderstanding is, I think, more obvious and more relevant. The concept of freedom (and this1 is primarily a struggle between the Free World2 and Communism)3 is certainly not of religious origin. Such proof would be necessary to4 justify an interpretation of the struggle for freedom as basically religious. For it5 would not be enough6 to demonstrate, which nobody doubts,7 that freedom is compatible with our religious system, but that8 a system,9 based on freedom,10[metamark (text connection)] is religious. And this will indeed be difficult, Luther’s “freedom of Christian Man” notwithstanding. The very fact that we, as far as11 our public life is concerned12, care more about freedom than about anything else, is proof that13 we do not live publicly14 in a religious world.15	The second misunderstanding is, I think, more obvious and more relevant. The concept of freedom (and this1 is primarily a struggle between the Free World2 and Communism)3 is certainly not of religious origin. Such proof would be necessary to4 justify an interpretation of the struggle for freedom as basically religious. For it5 would not be enough6 to demonstrate, which nobody doubts,7 that freedom is compatible with our religious system, but that8 a system,9 based on freedom,10 is religious. And this will indeed be difficult, Luther’s “freedom of Christian Man” notwithstanding. The very fact that we, as far as11 our public life is concerned12, care more about freedom than about anything else, is proof that13 we do not live publicly14 in a religious world.15	The second misunderstanding is, I think, more obvious and more relevant. This1 is primarily a struggle between the Free world2 and Communism, and the concept of freedom3 is certainly not of religious origin. In order to4 justify an interpretation of the struggle for freedom as basically religious, one5 would have6 to prove7 that a political system9 based on freedom is ipso facto religious. Does not the very |4 38 fact that we care more about freedom than about anything else in11 our public life, prove; on the contrary, that publicly13 we do not live in a religious world?15	The second misunderstanding is, I think, more obvious and more relevant. The concept of freedom (and this1 is primarily a struggle between the Free World2 and Totalitarianism )3 is certainly not of religious origin. Such proof would be necessary to4 justify an interpretation of the struggle for freedom as basically religious. For it5 would not be enough6 to demonstrate, which nobody doubts,7 that freedom is compatible with our present “religious system,” but that8 a system,9 based on freedom,10 is religious. And this will indeed be difficult, Luther’s “free dom of Christian Man” notwithstanding. The freedom which Christianity brought into the world was a freedom from politics, a freedom to be and remain outside the realm of secular society altogether, something unheard of in the ancient world. A Christian slave, insofar as he was a Christian, was and remained a free human being if only he kept himself free from public-secular involvements. (This is also the reason why the Christian churches could remain so indifferent in the question of slavery and still cling fast to the doctrine of the equality of all men before God.) Neither Christian equality nor Christian freedom could ever have led by themselves to the concept of “government of the people, by the people, for the people” or to any other modern definition of political freedom. The only interest Christianity has in secular government is that its own freedom is not endangered, that is that the powers that be permit, among other freedoms, freedom from politics. The Free World, however, means by freedom not the “Render unto Cesar what is Cesar’s and unto God what is God’s”, but the right of all to handle those affairs that once were Cesar’s. The very fact that we, as far as11 our public life is concerned12, care more about freedom than about anything else, is proof that13 we do not live publicly14 in a religious world.15	The second misunderstanding is, I think, more obvious and more relevant. The concept of freedom (and this1 is primarily a struggle between the free world2 and Totalitarianism)3 is certainly not of religious origin. To4 justify an interpretation of the struggle for freedom as basically religious it5 would not be enough6 to demonstrate7 that freedom is compatible with our present “religious system,” but that8 a system9 based on freedom is religious. And this will indeed be difficult, Luther’s “freedom of Christian man” notwithstanding. The freedom which Christianity brought into the world was a freedom from politics, a freedom to be and remain outside the realm of secular society altogether, something unheard of in the ancient world. A Christian slave, insofar as he was a Christian, remained a free human being if only he kept himself free from secular involvements. (This is also the reason why the Christian churches could remain so indifferent to the question of slavery while clinging fast to the doctrine of the equality of all men before God.) Therefore neither Christian equality nor Christian freedom could ever have led by themselves to the concept of “government of the people, by the people, for the people” or to any other modern definition of political freedom. The only interest Christianity has in secular government is to protect its own freedom, to see to it that the powers-that-be permit, among other freedoms, freedom from politics. The free world, however, means by freedom not “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s,” but the right of all to handle those affairs that once were Caesar’s. The very fact that we, as far as11 our public life is concerned12, care more about freedom than about anything else proves that13 we do not live publicly14 in a religious world.15
26
To say that1 this struggle2 is basically religious may very well3 mean that we want to assert more than freedom. This, however, would be very dangerous, no matter how tolerant the definition of the more-than-freedom would turn out to be; it could very well drag us into a kind of spiritual civil war in which we would exclude from our common fight everything that is contrary to “religion”. And since in4 this, as in all5 other fields, no binding authority exists to define once and for7 all what is compatible and what is not, we8 would be at the mercy of ever-changing interpretations of our “religion”. where nobody could know who the next victim was going to be9.	To say that1 this struggle2 is basically religious may very well3 mean that we want to assert more than freedom. This, however, would be very |10 dangerous, no matter how tolerant the definition of the more-than-freedom would turn out to be; it could very well drag us into a kind of spiritual civil war in which we would exclude from our common fight everything that is contrary to “religion.” And since in4 this, as inall5 other fields, no binding authority exists to define once and for7 all what is compatible and what is not, we8 would be at the mercy of ever-changing interpretations of our “religion,” where nobody could know who the next victim was going to be9.	The danger of1 this theory2 is that its proponents may3 mean that we, in our fight against totalitarianism, must assert more than freedom. This could very well drag us into a kind of spiritual civil war, no matter how broad and tolerant the definition of the more-than-freedom would turn out to be. In4 this, as in5 other fields, no publicly6 binding authority exists so that7 all definitions of our “religious system”8 would be at the mercy of ever changing interpretations9.	To say that1 this struggle2 is basically religious may very well3 mean that we want to assert more than freedom. This, however, would be very dangerous, no matter how tolerant the definition of the more-than-freedom would turn out to be; it could very well kind of spiritual civil war in which we would exclude from our common fight everything that is contrary to “religion”. And since in4 this, as in all5 other fields, no binding authority exists to define once and for7 all what is compatible and what not, we8 would be at the mercy of ever-changing interpretations9 .	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
27
Communist regimes, on the other hand1 liquidate religious institutions and persecute religious convictions together with a great many other social and spiritual bodies of2 the most divergent attitudes towards religion. In a country |9 where even the chess clubs had one day to be liquidated and resurrected in bolshevized fashion, because “to play chess for chess’ sake” already4 constituted a challenge to the official ideology, the persecution of religion cannot very well be ascribed to specifically religious motives. A Trotskyite in the thirties or a Titoist in the forties were certainly in greater danger of life and limb in Soviet dominated territoy than a priest or minister.5 The evidence we have about persecutions in totalitarian countries does not bear out the frequently heard assertion that religion more than any other free spiritual activity is felt to be in direct competition with6 the ruling ideology.[metamark (text connection)] Communism, on the contrary, carefully avoids being mistaken as a religion. When the Catholic Church recently decided to excommunicate Communists, because of the obvious incompatibility of Communism with Christian doctrine7, no corresponding move from the side of Communists was noticed:8 to be sure, from the Catholic side, this is a religious fight, just as for a philosopher this is a fight for philosophy. For Communism it is nothing of the sort. It is the fight against a world in which all these things--free religion, free philosophy, free art, etc. are possible at all.9	The fact that Communist regimes1 liquidate religious institutions and persecute religious convictions together with a great many other social and spiritual bodies of2 the most divergent attitudes towards religion is only the other side of the same matter3. In a country where even the chess clubs had one day to be liquidated and resurrected in bolshevized fashion, because “to play chess for chess’ sake” already4 constituted a challenge to the official ideology, the persecution of religion cannot very well be ascribed to specifically religious motives. A Trotskyite in the thirties or a Titoist in the forties were certainly in greater danger of life and limb in Soviet-dominated territory than a priest or minister.5 The evidence we have about persecutions in totalitarian countries does not bear out the frequently heard assertion that religion more than any other free spiritual activity is felt to be in direct competition with6 the ruling ideology. If, as is sometimes true, religious people are more persecuted than non-believers7, it is simply because they are harder8 to “convince” and feel that more is at stake. To them, it is a fight for their religion; to the Communists, they are as, but not more, dangerous as any other people who insist on free thought.9	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The fact that Communist regimes1 liquidate religious institutions and persecute religious convictions together with a great many other social and spiritual bodies of2 the most divergent attitudes towards religion is only the other side of the same matter3. In a country |8 where even the chess clubs had one day to be liquidated and resurrected in bolshevized fashion, because “to play chess for chess’ sake” already4 constituted a challenge to the official ideology, the persecution of religion cannot very well be ascribed to specifically religious motives. [metamark /]The evidence we have about persecutions in totalitarian countries does not bear out the frequently heard assertion that religion more than any other free spiritual activity is felt to be the primary challenge6 the ruling ideology.[metamark /] A Trotskyite in the thirties or a Titoist in the forties was certainly in greater danger of life and limb in Soviet dominated territoy than a priest or minister. If, as is sometimes true, religious people are more persecuted than non-believers7, it is simply because they are harder8 to “convince”. To them, it is a fight for their religion; to the Communists, they are yas, but not more, dangerous as any other people who insist on free thought. [metamark ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————>] [metamark <—] Communism, , carefully avoids being mistaken for a religion. When the Catholic Church recently decided to excommunicate Communists, because of the obvious incompatibility of Communism with Christian doctrine, no corresponding move from the side of Communists was noticed. To be sure, from the side of a Christian , this is a religious fight, just as for a philosopher this is a fight for philosophy. For Communism it is nothing of the sort. It is the fight against a world in which all these things -- free religion, free philosophy, free art, etc. are possible at all.9	The fact that Communist regimes1 liquidate religious institutions and persecute religious convictions together with a great many other social and spiritual bodies with2 the most divergent attitudes towards religion is only the other side of the same matter3. In a country where even the chess clubs had one day to be liquidated and resurrected in bolshevized fashion, because “to play chess for chess’ sake” constituted a challenge to the official ideology, the persecution of religion cannot very well be ascribed to specifically religious motives. The evidence we have about persecutions in totalitarian countries does not bear out the frequently heard assertion that religion more than any other free spiritual activity is felt to be the primary challenge to6 the ruling ideology. A Trotskyite in the thirties or a Titoist in the late forties was certainly in greater danger of life and limb in Soviet-dominated territory than a priest or a minister. If religious people are on the whole persecuted more frequently than non-believers7, it is simply because they are harder8 to “convince.”9
28
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Nor does1 Communism any more resemble a religion in the accepted sense of the word because it pretends to be in the process of building an earthly paradise and actually has established2, in the concentration camps3, an |11 institution which in all its varieties is startlingly similar to traditional pictures of Hell, Purgatory and the Underworld. This is certainly not enough to qualify it as a religion. Communism, on the contrary,4 carefully avoids being mistaken as5 a religion. When the Catholic Church recently decided to excommunicate Communists, because of the obvious incompatibility of Communism with Christian doctrine, no corresponding move from the side of Communists was noticed: to7 be sure, from the Catholic side,8 this is a religious fight, just as for a philosopher this9 is a fight for philosophy. For Communism it is nothing of the sort. It is the fight against a world in which all these things --11 free religion, free philosophy, free art, etc. are possible at all.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Communism, in fact3, carefully avoids being mistaken for5 a religion. When the Catholic Church recently decided to excommunicate Communists, because of the obvious incompatibility of Communism with Christian doctrine, no corresponding move occurred6 from the side of the Communists. To7 be sure, from the point of view of a Christian8 this is a religious fight, just as for a philosopher it9 is a fight for philosophy. For Communism, however,10 it is nothing of the sort. It is the fight against a world in which all these things,11 free religion, free philosophy, free art, etc.,12 are possible at all.
29
III	III	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	III
30
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]		[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
31
If we take1 the Free World at its own word, then the present strugg le is for freedom against tyranny. If we take the Communist world at its own word2, then the struggle is one of historical necessity and unavoidable progress against the doomed, class-ridden civilization which tries vainly but criminally to prevent the true welfare |10 of mankind.[metamark (text connection)] To any previous time, I think,3 this [our]4 refusal to take either side at its own word, this substitution of ulterior (religious) motives of which both sides appear to be quite unconscious5 as though it were a matter of course that self-interpretation6 can only lead astray7, would have seemed preposterous and, to say the least,8 quite unscientific. This most modern and increasingly important trend in our political evaluations becomes especially pronounced only when this struggle is called religious not from the historical considerations we have just discussed, but from the much more frequent point of view of the social sciences.9	If we take1 the Free World at its own word, then the present struggle is for freedom against tyranny. If we take the Communist world at its own word2, then the struggle is one of historical necessity and unavoidable progress against the doomed, class-ridden civilization which tries vainly but criminally to prevent the true welfare of mankind. The argument of power and national interests plays an almost negligible role in either side of presentation. And it seems that both sides have proved that this is not a struggle of power for power’s sake--America by consciously refusing to take advantage of her enormous power potential immediately after the victory of 1945, and the Soviet Union by sacrificing important possibilities to develop and stabilize her own power at that moment for more far reaching ideological goals. (This historically curious absence of power motives in the major struggle of the two great world-powers is, as it were, enhanced by a number of minor local conflicts in which the old, time-honored power motive is still very visible. But the point is that these are all minor conflicts and that the main struggle is no longer primarily a struggle for power.) |12 This, naturally, has been one of the major reasons for calling it a basically religious struggle, since our history provides us only with these two sets of motives. Yet, to any previous time, I think,3 this refusal to take either side at its own word, this substitution of ulterior (religious) motives of which both sides appear to be quite unconscious5 as though it were a matter of course that self-interpretation6 can only lead astray7, would have seemed preposterous and, to say the least,8 quite unscientific. This most modern and increasingly important trend in our political evaluations becomes pronounced only when this struggle is called religious, not from the historical considerations we have just discussed, but from the much more frequent point of view of the social sciences.9	The approach of1 the social sciences plays a much more prominent role in this discussion2, although their argumentation is even more doubtful. The social sciences believe here, as in all other matters, that they do not have to concern themselves with the substantial content of some historical phenomenon, such as religion, or ideology, or freedom, but only with the function it plays in society. They are not bothered by the fact that both sides of this struggle, the free world as well as communism, have refused to call their struggle religious, and think that they can find out “objectively”, that is without paying attention to what either side has to say, whether or not Communism is a new religion or the free world is defending a religious system. To any previous time, I think,3 this refusal to take either side at its own word as though it were a matter of course that what the sources themselves say6 can only lead astray7, would have seemed preposterous and8 quite unscientific.	|9 III The approach of1 the social sciences plays a much more prominent role in this discussion2, although their argumentation is even more doubtful. The social sciences believe here, as in all other matters, that they do not have to concern themselves with the of some historical and political phenomenon, such as religion, or ideology, or freedom, or totalitarianism, but only with the function it plays in society. They are not bothered by the fact that both sides in the struggle, the free world as well as the totalitarian rulers, have refused to call their struggle religious, and think that they can find out “objectively”, that is without paying attention to what either side has to say, whether or not Communism is a new religion or the free world is defending its religious system.3 this refusal to take either side at its own word,5 as though it were a matter of course that what the sources themselves say6 can [metamark (text connection)]only lead astray7, would have seemed, to say the least,8 quite unscientific.	The approach of1 the social sciences, the identification of ideology and religion as functionally equivalent2, has achieved much greater prominence in the present discussion. It is based on the fundamental assumption of the social sciences that they do not have to concern themselves with the substance of a historical and political phenomenon, such as religion, or ideology, or freedom, or totalitarianism, but only with the function it plays in society. Social scientists are not bothered by the fact that both sides in the struggle, the free world as well as the totalitarian rulers, have refused to call their struggle religious and believe they can find out “objectively,” that is without paying attention to what either side has to say, whether or not Communism is a new religion or whether the free world is defending its religious system. In any previous period3 this refusal to take either side at its own word,5 as though it were a matter of course that what the sources themselves say6 can only prove misleading7, would have seemed, to say the least,8 quite unscientific.
32
The father of social sciences2 methods is Marx. He was the first to look methodically5--and not only with the natural awareness that speech can conceal truth as it can6 reveal it--into self-understanding of history,7 as we know it from8 the utterances of great statesmen and9, in a larger sense, from10 the whole of the11 intellectual and spiritual manifestations of each12 period. All of which he13 refused to take at their own word14,denouncing them as an “15ideological” facades16 behind which the true historical [metamark (text connection)]forces conceal themselves. |11 [metamark (text connection)] He, therefore, of all materialists was the first to interpret religion as something more than simple superstition or the spiritualization of tangible human experiences (like [metamark (text connection)]Feuerbach), but as a social phenomenon in which man “is dominated by the product of his own head as he is dominated in capitalistic production by the product of his own hand.”17	The father of social sciences2 methods is Marx. He was the first to look methodically5--and not only with the natural awareness that speech can conceal truth as it can6 reveal it--into self-understanding of history,7 as we know it from8 the utterances of great statesmen and9, in a larger sense, from10 the whole of the11 intellectual and spiritual manifestations of each12 period. All of which he13 refused to take at their own word14, denouncing them as “15ideological” facades16 behind which the true historical forces conceal themselves. Later he called all this the “ideological superstructure;” but he started his discovery when he decided not to take seriously “what people say,” but only “the real active human being” whose thoughts are “the ideological reflexes and echoes of his life process.” He, therefore, of all materialists was the first to interpret religion as something more than simple superstition or the spiritualization of tangible human experiences (like Feuerbach), but as a social phenomenon in which man “is dominated by the product of his own head as he is dominated in capitalistic production by the product of his own hand.”17	The father of this, as of most of the1 social science2 methods,3 is Karl Mar4[gap] Marx. He was the first to look methodically5--and not only with the natural awareness that speech can conceal truth as it can6 reveal it--into self-understanding of history,7 as we know it from8 the utterances of great statesmen and9, in a larger sense, from10 the whole of the11 intellectual and spiritual manifestations of each12 period. All of which he13 refused to take at their own word14, denouncing them as ideological facades16 behind which the true historical forces conceal themselves. Religion, in whose [metamark ]substantial content he never was interested, has for him a social function and this function is identical with its essence. It is one among many possible ideologies. The social sciences today have grown away from Marxism in that they no longer share the Marxists’ prejudice in favor of their own ideology. By the same token, however, they lost even that amount of awareness for differences of substance which for Marx was still a matter of course. Engels could still protest against calling atheism a |5 38 “religion without God” by saying that this makes about as much sense as calling chemistry an alchemy without the philosopher’s stone. Social sciences today can call Communism a religion without ever reflecting on its historical background and without ever asking themselves what [gap]a religion actually is, and if it is anything at all when it is a religion without God.17	The father of the “modern”1 social sciences2 methods is Marx. He was the first to look -- and not only with the natural awareness that speech can conceal truth as it can6 reveal it, of history,7 as we know it from8 the utterances of great statesmen and9, in a larger sense, from10 the whole of the11 intellectual and spiritual manifestations of each12 period. he13 refused to takeat its own word14, denouncing them as “15ideological” façades16 behind which the true historical forces conceal themselves. Later he called the “ideological superstructure”; but he started his discovery when he decided not to take seriously “what people say,” but only “the real active human being” whose thoughts are “the ideological reflexes and echoes of |10 his life process.” He, therefore, of all materialists was the first to interpret religion as something more than simple superstition or the spiritualization of tangible human experiences, but as a social phenomenon in which man “is dominated by the product of his own head as he is dominated in capitalistic[metamark (text connection)] production by the product of his own hand.” [metamark (text connection)] no [metamark #]Nowhere in his work is Marx ever genuinely interested in the substance of religious thought. Religion is for him one among many possible ideologies. The social sciences today, it is true, have grown away from their origin in Marxism and have become scientific, they no longer share the Marxian prejudice in favor of his own “ideology”; since Karl Mannheim’s Ideologie und Utopie, they have got used to talk back to Marxists and tell them that Marxism, too, is an ideology. By the same token, however, they lost even that amount of awareness for differences of substance which for Marx and Engels were still a matter of course. It was Engels who protested against those who in his time called atheism a religion by saying that this makes about as much sense as calling chemistry an alchemy without the philosopher’s stone. It is only in our own time that one can afford to call Communism a religion without ever reflecting on its historical background and without ever asking what a religion actually is, and if it is [metamark (text connection)]anything at all when it is a religion without God. no17 [metamark #]	The father of the1 social science2 methods is Marx. He was the first to look systematically5--and not only with the natural awareness that speech can conceal truth as well as6 reveal it--at history7 as it reveals itself in8 the utterances of great statesmen, or10 the intellectual and spiritual manifestations of a12 period. He13 refused to take any of them at face value14, denouncing them as “15ideological” façades16 behind which the true historical forces conceal themselves. Later he called it the “ideological superstructure,” but he started by deciding not to take seriously “what people say,” but only “the real active human being” whose thoughts are “the ideological reflexes and echoes of his life process.” He, therefore, of all materialists was the first to interpret religion as something more than simple superstition or the spiritualization of tangible human experiences, but as a social phenomenon in which man “is dominated by the product of his own head as he is dominated in capitalistic production by the product of his own hand.” Religion to him had become one of many possible ideologies.17
33
Nowhere in his work is Marx ever genuinely interested in the substance of religious thought, as Feuerbach, for instance, was when he wrote1 his Essence of Christianity2. Religion has for him a social [metamark (text connection)]function and its essence is identical with this function. In Marx’s sense one could3 have called every ideology or every system of thought, no matter what its content4, a “religion” if it only fulfilled5 the same function in society. To him6, a religion without God would not7 have been an absurdity even though in actual fact Marx with his great knowledge8 and understanding of history never went quite that far and Engels even protested9 against those who in his time called atheism a religion by saying that this makes about as much sense as calling chemistry an alchemy without the philosopher’s stone. The social sciences today, it10 is true, have grown away from their origin11 in Marxism and have become scientific in12 that they no longer share the Marxist’s prejudice in favor of his [metamark (text connection)]own ideology, as though thought in the interest of the proletariat, by some magic, could suddenly cease to be an “ideological reflex”; they13 can talk back14 to Marxists and tell them them that Marxism too is an ideology, no better and no worse than the religions whose ideological character Marx demasked. By the same token, however, they lost even that amount of awareness for questions and differences of substance (as distinguished from mere functions) which for Marx was still a matter of course. They can therefore15 call Communism a religion without ever reflecting on its historical background and without ever asking themselves16 what a religion actually is, [metamark (text connection)]and if it is anything at all when it is a religion without God.	Nowhere in his work is Marx ever genuinely interested in the substance |13 of religious thought, as Feuerbach, for instance, was when he wrote1 his Essence of Christianity2. Religion has for him a social function and its essence is identical with this function. In Marx’s sense one could3 have called every ideology or every system of thought, no matter what its content4, a “religion” if it only fulfilled5 the same function in society. To him6, a religion without God should not7 have been an absurdity even though in actual fact Marx with his great knowledge8 and understanding of history never went quite that far and Engels even protested9 against those who in his time called atheism a religion by saying that this makes about as much sense as calling chemistry an alchemy without the philosopher’s stone. The social sciences today, it10 is true, have grown away from their origin11 in Marxism and have become scientific in12 that they no longer share the Marxist’s prejudice in favor of his own ideology, as though thought in the interest of the proletariat, by some magic, could suddenly cease to be an “ideological reflex;” they13 can talk back14 to Marxists and tell them that Marxism too is an ideology, no better and no worse than the religions whose ideological character Marx demasked. By the sametoken, however, they lost even that amount of awareness for questions and differences of substance (as distinguished from mere functions) which for Marx was still a matter of course. They can therefore15 call Communism a religion without ever reflecting on its historical background and without ever asking themselves16 what a religion actually is, and if it is anything at all when it is a religion without God.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	To be sure, present-day social sciences have outgrown Marxism; they no longer share the Marxian prejudice in favor of1 his own “ideology2.” In fact, since Karl Mannheim’s Ideologie und Utopie, they3 have got used to talking back and telling the Marxists that Marxism4, too, is an ideology. By5 the same token6, however, they7 have lost even that degree of awareness for differences of substance which for Marx8 and Engels was still a matter of course. Engels could still protest9 against those who in his time called atheism a religion by saying that this makes about as much sense as calling chemistry an alchemy without the philosopher’s stone. It10 is only11 in our time12 that one13 can afford14 to call Communism a religion without ever reflecting on its historical background and without ever asking what a religion actually is, and if it is anything at all when it is a religion without God.
34
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Moreover, while the non-Marxist heirs of Marxism have grown wise to the ideological character of Marxism and thus, in a way, have become cleverer than Marx himself (to what an extent this whole approach is also a matter of ordinary smartness, Marx himself shows in a very revealing passage), they are also no longer aware of1 the philosophical fundament which is still |14 quite apparent in2 Marx’s own writings and3 which continues to remain their own because their methods spring from it and make sense only in its categorical4 framework.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Moreover, while the non-Marxist heirs of Marxism have grown wise to the ideological character of Marxism and thus, in a way, have become cleverer than Marx himself |11 they are also no longer aware of1 the philosophical which is still quite apparent in2 Marx’s own writings and3 which continues to remain their own because their methods spring from it framework.	Moreover, while the non-Marxist heirs of Marxism have grown wise to the ideological character of Marxism and thus, in a way, have become cleverer than Marx himself, they have forgotten1 the philosophical basis of2 Marx’s own writings which continues to remain their own because their methods spring from it and make sense only in its4 framework.
35
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Marx’s unwillingness to listen to and1 take seriously “what each period says about itself and imagines it is” derived from his conviction that political action was primarily violence and that violence was the midwife of History2. This conviction of Marx is very far from3 due to the gratuitous ferocity of a revolutionary temperament or simple evil-mindedness. It4 has its place in his general5 philosophy of history, according to which6 history, which has been enacted by men in the mode of false consciousness, i.e.,7 in the mode of ideologies, can be made by men in full consciousness of what they are doing. It is precisely this humanist sideof Marx’s teachings which led him into8 his insistence on the violent character of political action; for9 he saw the making of history in terms of fabrication in general10; historical man was to him primarily homo faber. The fabrication of all man-made things, because it is not creatio ex nihilo,11 necessarily implies and resides in12 some violence done to matter which becomes the underlying14 material of the fabricated thing. Nobody can make a table without killing a tree. In this definition and understanding of fabrication, Marx was in complete agreement with the whole tradition of philosophical thought. New was only that he applied these categories to history and thereby to political action.15	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Marx’s unwillingness to take seriously “what each period says about itself and imagines it is” derived from his conviction that political action was primarily violence and that violence was the midwife of History2. This conviction of Marx is very far from being3 due to the gratuitous ferocity of a revolutionary temperament or simple evil-mindedness. It4 has its place in his general5 philosophy of history, according to which6 history, which has been enacted by men in the mode of false consciousness, i.e. in the mode of ideologies, can be made by men in full consciousness of what they are doing. It is precisely this humanist side of Marx’s teachings which led him into8 his insistence on the violent character of political action; for9 he saw the making of history in terms of fabrication in general10; historical man was to him primarily homo faber. The fabrication of all man-made things, because it is not creatio ex nihilo,11 necessarily implies and resides in in12 some violence done to matter which becomes the underlying14 material of the fabricated thing. Nobody can make a table without killing a tree.	Marx’s unwillingness to take seriously “what each period says about itself and imagines it is” derived from his conviction that political action was primarily violence and that violence was the midwife of history2. This conviction was not3 due to the gratuitous ferocity of a revolutionary temperament, but4 has its place in Marx’s5 philosophy of history, which holds that6 history, which has been enacted by men in the mode of false consciousness, i.e.,7 in the mode of ideologies, can be made by men in full consciousness of what they are doing. It is precisely this humanist side of Marx’s teachings which led him to8 his insistence on the violent character of political action:9 he saw the making of history in terms of fabrication; historical man was to him primarily homo faber. The fabrication of all man-made things necessarily implies some violence done to the13 matter which becomes the basic14 material of the fabricated thing. Nobody can make a table without killing a tree.
36
Moreover, while the non-Marxist heirs of Marxism have grown wise to the ideological character of Marxism and thus, in a way, have become cleverer than1 Marx himself (to what an extent this whole approach is also a matter of ordinary smartness, Marx himself shows |12 [metamark (text connection)]in a very revealing passage), they are also no longer aware of the philosophical fundament which is still quite apparent in Marx’s own writings and which continues to remain their own because their methods spring from it and make sense only in its categorical framework. Marx’s unwillingness to listen to and take seriously “what each period says about itself and imagines it is” derived from his conviction that political action was primarily violence and that violence was the midwife of History.[metamark (text connection)] This conviction of Marx is very far from due to the gratuitous ferocity of a revolutionary temperament or simple evil-mindedness. It has its place in his [metamark (text connection)]general philosophy of history, according to which history, which has been enacted by men in the mode of false consciousness, i.e. in the mode of ideologies, can be made by man in full consciousness [metamark (text connection)]of what they are doing. It is precisely this humanist side of Marx’s teachings which led him into his insistence on the violent character of political action; for he saw the making of history in terms of fabrication in general; historical man was to him primarily homo faber. The fabrication of all man-made things, because it is not creatio ex nihilo, necessarily implies and resides in in some violence done to matter which becomes the underlying material of the fabricated thing. Nobody can make a table [metamark (text connection)]without killing a tree. In this definition and understanding of fabrication, Marx was in complete agreement with the whole tradition of philosophical thought. New was only that he applied these categories to history and thereby to political action. Marx, like2 all serious philosophers since the French Revolution, was confronted with the double riddle that human4 action, in distinction from fabrication and production, hardly ever achieves precisely5 what it intended to do6 because it acts in7 a framework8 of “many9 wills operating in different directions”10 and the fact11 that the sum of recorded actions, which we call history, nevertheless makes sense, is humanly comprehensible12. But he13 refused to accept the14 solution of his immediate predecessors who, in the15 “ruse16 of nature17” (Kant) or18 the “ruse19 of reason” (Hegel) had introduced a deus ex machina into human affairs. Instead20, he21 proposed to explain23 |13 [metamark (text connection)]the riddle by interpreting this24 whole realm of inexplicable meaning as a “superstructure” over25 the more elementary productive capacity26 of man, in which he knows very well what he is doing and is master of his products27. The hitherto inexplicable meaningfulness of history28, which most certainly is not Kant’s trostloses Ungefähr29, was now seen as the reflex of a meaning which was as securely a human product as30 the technical development31 of the world, the erection of the human artifice on earth. The whole problem of humanizing political-historical affairs was now how to become master of our actions as we are master of our productive capacity, or32, in other words, how to “make” history as we make all other things. Once this is achieved through the victory of the proletariat, we shall no longer need the ideologies, that is the justification of our violence, because this violent element will be in our hands; violence, if it is thus controlled33, will be no more dangerous than34 the killing of a tree for35 the fabrication of a table36. But until that time, all political actions37, legal precepts, and spiritual thought conceal the ulterior motives of a society which only pretends to act politically but38 in fact “makes history”, albeit in an unconscious, i39.e. inhuman way.40	Marx, like2 all serious philosophers since the French Revolution, was confronted with the double riddle that human4 action, in distinction from fabrication and production, hardly ever achieves precisely5 what it intended to do6 because it acts in7 a framework8 of “many9 wills operating in different directions”10 and the fact11 that the sum of recorded actions, which we call history, nevertheless makes sense, is humanly comprehensible12. But he13 refused to accept |15 the14 solution of his immediate predecessors who, in the15 “rue16 of nature17” (Kant) or18 the “rue19 of reason” (Hegel) had introduced a deus ex machina into human affairs. Instead20, he21 proposed to explain23 the riddle by interpreting this24 whole realm of inexplicable meaning as a “superstructure” over25 the more elementary productive capacity26 of man, in which he knows very well what he is doing and is master of his products27. The hitherto inexplicable meaningfulness of history28, which most certainly is not Kant’s trostloses Ungefähr29, was now seen as the reflex of a meaning which was as securely a human product as30 the technical development31 of the world, the erection of the human artifice on earth. The whole problem of humanizing political-historical affairs was now how to become master of our actions as we are masters of our productive capacity, or32, in other words, how to “make” history as we make all other things. Once this is achieved through the victory of the proletariat, we shall no longer need the ideologies, that is the justification of our violence, because this violent element will be in our hands; violence, if it is thus controlled33, will be no more dangerous that34 the killing of a tree for35 the fabrication of a table36. But until that time, all political actions37, legal precepts, and spiritual thought conceal the ulterior motives of a society which only pretends to act politically but38 in fact “makes history,” albeit in an unconscious, i39.e., inhuman way.40	In distinction from modern social sciences,1 Marx had serious reasons for his theory of ideological superstructures. His unwillingness to listen to “what each period says about itself and imagines it is” was only the consequence of his philosophy of history. Like2 all serious philosophers since the French Revolution, he3 was confronted with the double riddle that action, in distinction from fabrication and production, hardly ever achieves what it intended to do6 because it acts into7 a network8 of conflicting9 wills and forces,10 and that nevertheless history as a whole makes sense, is humanly comprehensible12. He13 refused to accept Hegel’s14 solution of a15 “ruse16 of reason17” working behind18 the backs19 of acting men20, and21 proposed instead22 to solve23 the riddle by interpreting this24 whole realm of inexplicable meaning as a “superstructure” over25 the more elementary productive activities26 of men, in which they know very well what they are doing and achieve their proper ends27. History28, in M’s opinion29 , was and could be made by men in30 the mode31 of fabrication. Fabrication, however32, because it is not creatio ex nihilo necessarily resides in some violence done to matter33, which through violence becomes34 the underlying material of35 the fabricated object36. Political action, therefore37, resided for Marx primarily38 in violence and Violence became for him “the midwife of History”39.	Marx, like2 all serious philosophers since the French Revolution, was confronted with the double riddle that human4 action, in distinction from fabrication and production, hardly ever achieves precisely5 what it intended to do6 because it acts in7 a framework8 of “many9 wills operating in different directions”10 and the fact11 that the sum of recorded actions, which we call history, nevertheless makes sense, is humanly comprehensible12. But he13 refused to accept the14 solution of his immediate predecessors who, in the15 “ruse16 of nature17” (Kant) or18 the “ruse19 of reason” (Hegel) had introduced a deus ex machina into human affairs. Instead20, he21 proposed to explain23 |12 the riddle by interpreting this24 whole realm of inexplicable meaning as a “superstructure” of25 the more elementary productive capacity26 of man, in which he The hitherto inexplicable history was now seen as the reflection of a meaning which was as securely a human product as the technical development of the world27. The whole problem of humanizing political-historical affairs was now how to become master of our actions as we are master of our productive capacity28, or, in other words29, how to “make” history as we make all other things. Once this is achieved through30 the victory31 of the proletariat, we shall no longer need the ideologies, that is the justification of our violence32, because this violent element will be in our hands; violence, if it is thus controlled33, will be no more dangerous than34 the killing of a tree for35 the fabrication of a table36. But until that time, all political actions37, legal precepts, and spiritual thoughts conceal the ulterior motives of a society which only pretends to act politically but38 in fact “makes history”, albeit in an unconscious, i39.e. inhuman way.40	Marx, like2 all serious philosophers since the French Revolution, was confronted with the double riddle that human4 action, in distinction from fabrication and production, hardly ever achieves precisely5 what it intends6 because it acts in7 a framework8 of “many9 wills operating in different directions,”10 and the fact11 that the sum of recorded actions which we call history nevertheless seems to make sense12. But he13 refused to accept the14 solution of his immediate predecessors who, in the15 “ruse16 of nature17” (Kant) or18 the “ruse19 of reason” (Hegel), had introduced a deus ex machina into human affairs. Instead20, he21 proposed to explain23 the riddle by interpreting the24 whole realm of inexplicable meaning as a “superstructure” of25 the more elementary productive activity, in which man is master26 of his products and knows what he is doing. The hitherto inexplicable in history was now seen as the reflection of a meaning which was as securely a human product as the technical development of the world27. The whole problem of humanizing political-historical affairs was consequently how to become master of our actions as we are master of our productive capacity28, or, in other words29, how to “make” history as we make all other things. Once this is achieved through30 the victory31 of the proletariat we shall no longer need the ideologies--that is the justification of our violence32, because this violent element will be in our hands: violence, thus controlled33, will be no more dangerous than34 the killing of a tree for35 the fabrication of a table36. But until that time all political actions37, legal precepts, and spiritual thoughts conceal the ulterior motives of a society which only pretends to act politically but38 in fact “makes history,” albeit in an unconscious, i39.e., inhuman, way.40
37
Marx’s theory1 of the ideological superstructure, based as it is on the3 distinction “between what somebody pretends to be and what he really is,4” and the5 concomitant disregard for6 the truth-revealing quality of speech, is entirely based on this identification of political action with violence7. For violence is indeed the only kind of human action which is mute by definition; it8 is neither mediated [metamark (text connection)]nor operated through words. In all other kinds of action, political or not, including the action of power politics, we act in speech and our speech is action. (When Achilles was prepared by his educator Phoenix for a short life of supreme action, he was taught to become “a doer9 of deeds and a speaker of words;” the two belong together, as the ancients knew quite well, for whom rhetoric was a political art, an art10 of action.) In ordinary political life this close relationship between words and acts is broken only in the violence of war; then, but only then11, nothing depends any longer on words and everything on the mute ferocity of arms. |14 [metamark (text connection)] Words which accompany violence as propaganda and follow its mute action as justification are indeed the only kind of speech which always has ulterior motives and must always be suspected of being “ideological”--as historians since Thucydides have well known. To suspect all speech of being ideological, to mistrust all self-interpretation as concealing deeper forces rather than revealing them12, can be justified only on the assumption that all political action is essentially violent because all history is essentially a conflict between classes, so that only wars and revolutions show historical action in its true, unhypocritical nature. But the desubstantialization of the social science concepts has its origin not only in this disregard of all speech and content, but [metamark (text connection)]also in the scientifically comprehensible desire to find general rules under which occurrences of all times and different nature can be subsumed.[metamark (text connection)] If we are to trust Engels’ interpretation of Marx (and I think13, despite many arguments which have been raised to the contrary, his is the most loyal though sometimes simplified expression of Marx’ own thoughts), Marx was also the father of the social sciences in this purely scientific sense. He was the first to compare, not mathematics, but the science of nature[metamark (text connection)] with the humanities and conceived of a “science of society” as an all-encompassing discipline, “the sum total of the so-called historical and philosophical sciences”, which would share and live up to the same scientific standards as natural science. “We |15 [metamark (text connection)] live not only in nature but also in human society” and society therefore should be open to the same methods and rules of investigation as nature. Reflections on the complementary character of nature and society with relation to human beings were at the basis of the formal and unhistorical categories which from then on began to dominate the historical and social sciences.14	Marx’s theory1 of the ideological superstructure, based as it is on the3 distinction “between what somebody pretends to be and what he really is,4” and the5 concomitant disregard for6 the truth-revealing quality of speech, is entirely based on this identification of political action with violence7. For violence is indeed the only kind of human action which is mute by definition; it8 is neither mediated nor operated through words. In all other kinds of action, political or not, including the action of power politics, we act |16 in speech and our speech is action. (When Achilles was prepared by his educator Phoenix for a short life of supreme action, he was taught to become “a doer9 of deeds and a speaker of words;” the two belong together, as the ancients knew quite will, for whom rhetoric was a political art, an art10 of action.) In ordinary political life this close relationship between words and acts is broken only in the violence of war; then, but only then11, nothing depends any longer on words and everything on the mute ferocity of arms. War propaganda, and generally all words spoken during war, have therefore usually this unpleasant ring of insincerity: here words become “mere talk12,” they have no acting capacity any longer, everybody knows that action has left the realm of speech. This “mere talk,” which accompanies and usually follows violence as its justification13, is indeed and always has been open to mistrust of being only “ideological,” only a reflex and justification of violence. Here the search for ulterior motives is entirely justified, and historians, Marx’s statement notwithstanding, have always shown in these instances at least the same cleverness as “shopkeepers.”14	This preponderant role1 of violence in history and2 the identification of political with violent action is the true and serious reason for Marx’s3 distinction “between what somebody pretends to be and what he really is” and his5 concomitant suspicion of6 the truth-revealing quality of speech. For violence is indeed the only kind of human action which is mute by definition, which8 is neither mediated nor operated through words. Words that accompany violence are propaganda and those that follow it are justification. Speech connected with violence has indeed always ulterior motives and must always be suspected9 of being “ideological”--as historians since Thucydides have well known. In a religious war, for instance, religion is indeed in grave danger10 of becoming an ideology in Marx’s sense, that is a mere pretext, a mere justification for violence. The same, to a degree11, is true for all other war-causes, and words spoken during a war have therefore usually an unpleasant ring of insincerity. But only if we12, with Marx, assume that all political action is violent because history is essentially an uncompromising struggle of classes, which is accompanied by irrelevant “mere talk”13, do we have any right to suspect all speech as ideological facade and to discard the content matter of all sources.14	Marx’s theory1 of the ideological superstructure, based on the3 distinction “between what somebody pretends to be and what he really is,4” and the5 concomitant disregard for6 the truth-revealing quality of speech, is entirely based on this identification of political action with violence7. For violence is indeed the only kind of human action which is mute by definition; it8 is neither mediated nor operated through words. In all other kinds of action, political or not, including the action of power politics, we act in speech and our speech is action. In ordinary political life this close relationship between words and acts is broken only in the violence9 of war; then, but only then, nothing depends any longer on words and everything on the mute ferocity of arms. War propaganda |13 , has therefore usually this unpleasant ring10 of insincerity: here words become “mere talk”, they have no acting capacity any longer, everybody knows that action has left the realm of speech. This “mere talk”, which accompanies and usually follows violence as its justification11, is indeed and always has been open to mistrust of being only “ideological”, only a reflex and justification of violence. Here the search for ulterior motives is entirely justified12, as historians since Thucydides have well known. In a religious war, for instance, religion has always been in grave danger of becoming an “ideology” in Marx’s sense13, that is a mere pretext and justification for violence. The same, to a degree, is true for all war causes.14	Marx’s theory1 of the ideological superstructure, based on the3 distinction “between what somebody pretends to be and what he really is,4” and the5 concomitant disregard for6 the truth-revealing quality of speech, is entirely based on this identification of political action with violence7. For violence is indeed the only kind of human action which is mute by definition; it8 is neither mediated nor operated through words. In all other kinds of action, political or not, we act in speech and our speech is action. In ordinary political life this close relationship between words and acts is broken only in the violence9 of war; then, but only then, nothing depends any longer on words and everything on the mute ferocity of arms. War propaganda therefore usually has an unpleasant ring10 of insincerity: here words become “mere talk,” they have no acting capacity any longer, everybody knows that action has left the realm of speech. This “mere talk,” which is nothing but justification or pretext for violence11, has always been open to mistrust as merely “ideological.” Here the search for ulterior motives is entirely justified12, as historians since Thucydides have well known. In a religious war, for instance, religion has always been in grave danger of becoming an “ideology” in Marx’s sense13, that is, a mere pretext and justification for violence. The same, to a degree, is true for all war causes.14
38
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	But only on the assumption1 that all history is essentially the conflict between classes and can be resolved only by violence, only on the assumption2 that political action as such is3 “violent” and conceals its true nature hypocritically, as it were, in all times4 except during wars and revolutions, have we any5 right to disregard self-interpretation as irrelevant conscious or unconscious justification of profounder ulterior motives or forces6.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	But only on the assumption1 that all history is essentially the conflict between classes and can be resolved only by violence, only on the assumption2 that political action as such is3 “violent” and conceals its true nature hypocritically, as it were, in all times4 except during wars and revolutions, have we any5 right to disregard self-interpretation as irrelevant conscious or unconscious justification of profounder ulterior motives or forces6.	But only on the assumptions1 that all history is essentially the conflict between classes and can be resolved only by violence and2 that political action is inherently3 “violent” and conceals its true nature hypocritically, as it were, except during wars and revolutions do we have the5 right to disregard self-interpretation as irrelevant. This seems to me the basis for ignoring what the free world and Communism are saying about themselves6.
39
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	38	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
40
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The reason why I brought Marx into this discussion is not that I think that the present application of the word “religion” to ideologies is only due to the relativization and then reversal of Marx’s own categories, but rather because I wanted to indicate their general philosophical, and not only scientific, framework. If we look at the matter from a purely scientific viewpoint, then it seems obvious that one reason for1 the formalization of |17 social science categories is the2 scientifically comprehensible desire to find general rules under which occurences3 of all times and different nature can be subsumed. If we are to trust Engels’ interpretation of4 Marx (and I think, despite many arguments which have been raised to the contrary, his is the most loyal though sometimes simplified expression of Marx’ own thoughts), Marx5 was also the father of the social sciences in this purely scientific sense. He was the first to compare6, not mathematics, but the science of nature with the humanities and conceived7 of a “science of society” as an all-encompassing discipline, “the sum total of the so-called historical and philosophical sciences,”8 which would share and live up to the same scientific standards as natural science. “We live not only in nature but aso in human society” and society therefore should be open to the same methods and rules of investigation as nature.9 Reflections on the complementary character of nature and society with relation to human beings were at the basis of the formal and unhistorical categories which from then on began to dominate10 the historical and social sciences.	The desubstantialization of the social science concepts, however, has its origin not only in a universalization of Marx’s doctrine of ideologies, but also, and perhaps today even more forcefully, in1 the scientifically comprehensible desire to find general rules under which occurrences3 of all times and different nature can be subsumed. Marx was also the father of the social sciences in this purely scientific sense. He, together with Comte6, was the first to conceive7 of a “science of society” which would share and live up to the same scientific standards as natural science. Reflections on the complementary character of nature and society with relation to human beings were at the basis of the formal and unhistorical categories which from then on have dominated10 the historical and social sciences.	If we look at the same problem from a purely scientific viewpoint, it seems obvious that one reason for the formalization of social science categories is1 the scientifically comprehensible desire to find general rules under which occurrences3 of all times and different nature can be subsumed. If we are to trust Engels’ interpretation of4 Marx, Marx5 was also the father of the social sciences in this purely scientific sense. He was the first to compare, not mathematics, but the science of nature with the humanities and6, together with Comte, conceived7 of a “science of society” as an all-encompassing discipline, “the sum total of the so-called historical and philosophical sciences”,8 which would share and live up to the same scientific standards as natural science. “We |14 live not only in nature but also in human society” and society therefore should be open to the same methods and rules of investigation as nature.9 Reflections on the complementary character of nature and society with relation to human beings were at the basis of the formal and unhistorical categories which from then on began to dominate10 the historical and social sciences.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
41
Such categories are not only Marx’s class struggle, allegedly the law of historical development as Darwin’s law of the survival of the fittest was the law of natural develop­ment1, but more recently Toynbee’s challenge and response or Max Weber’s ideal types. It looks as though the term “political or secular religions” is the latest addition to them insofar6 as this term7, though originally designed to interpret totalitarian movements8, has already universalized itself and is now used to cover a wide range of occurrences9, disparate in time as well as in nature. (It is noteworthy that this categorization of history bears no resemblance to earlier attempts at formulating general rules which would make the behavior of man more understandable and thereby offer some insight into the working of politics. That men are driven in political action by interest or power thirst are wisdoms as old as [metamark (text connection)]history and the political sciences. In contrast to these “subjective” rules, the social sciences today confront us with objective categories which are social in the sense that they do not apply so much to the behavior of individuals, acting under specific historical circumstances, as to the behavior of society, itself enacting history.) All these terms of the social sciences owe their origin to the ambition to found a “positive science of history which could match the “positive science of nature. Because of this derivative origin it may be only natural that the positive science of history should always have remained[metamark (text connection)] one step behind natural science which was it great model. Natural scientists know today what social scientists have not yet discovered, that almost every hypothesis with which they approach nature will somehow work out and yield positive results; so great seems the pliability of observed occurrences that they will always give man the expected answer. It is as though the moment man |16 puts a question to nature, everything hurries up to re-arrange itself in accordance with his question. I think the day will come when social scientists to their dismay will discover that this is even more true in their own field; there is nothing that cannot be proved and very little that can be disproved: history arranges itself as conveniently and consistently under the category of challenge and response or in accordance with ideal types as it arranged itself under the category of class struggles to Marx’s own satisfaction. There is no reason why it should not show the same obedience when approached with the terminology of secular religions.10	Such categories are not only Marx’s class struggle, allegedly the law of historical development as Darwin’s law of the survival of the fittest was the law of natural development1, but more recently Toynbee’s challenge and response or Max Weber’s ideal types. It looks as though the term “political or secular religions” is the latest addition to them insofar6 as this terminology7, though originally designed to interpret totalitarian movemnts8, has already universalized itself and is now used to cover a wide range of occurences9, disparate in time as well as in nature. (It is noteworthy that this categorization of history bears no resemblance to earlier attempts at formulation general rules which would make the behavior of man more understandable and thereby offer some insight into the working of politics. That |18 men are driven in political action by interest or power thirst are wisdoms as old as history and the political sciences. In contrast to these “subjective” rules, the social sciences today confront us with objective categories which are social in the sense that they do not apply so much to the behavior of individuals, acting under specific historical circumstances, as to the behavior of society, itself enacting history.)10	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Such categories are not only Marx’s class struggle, allegedly the law of historical development as Darwin’s law of the survival of the fittest was the law of natural development1, but more recently Toynbee’s “2challenge and response”3 or Max Weber’s “4ideal types” as they are used today, chiefly in an re-interpretation through Mannheim5. It looks as though the term “political or secular religions” is the latest addition to them as this terminology7, though originally designed to interpret totalitarian movements8, has already universalized itself and is now used to cover a wide range of occurrences9, disparate in time as well as in nature.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
42
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Social science owes its origin to the ambition to found a1 “positive science of history” which could match2 the positive science of nature3. Because of this4 derivative origin, it is6 only natural that the “positive7 science of history”8 should always have remained one step behind natural science which was its great model9. Natural scientists know today,10 what social scientists have not yet discovered, that almost every hypothesis with which they approach nature11 will somehow work out and12 yield positive results; so great seems the pliability of observed occurences that they will always give man the expected answer. It13 is as though the moment man puts a question to nature, everything hurries up to re-arrange itself in accordance with his question. I think the day will come when social scientists to their dismay will discover that this is even more true in their own field; there14 is nothing that cannot be proved and very little that can be disproved: history arranges itself as conveniently and consistently under the category of challenge and response or in accordance with ideal types15 as it arranged itself under the category of class struggles to Marx’s own satisfaction16. There is no reason why it should not show the same obedience when approached with the terminology of secular religions.	Such categories are not only Marx’s class struggle but more recently Max Weber’s ideal types and Toynbee’s1 “challenge and response”. It looks as though2 the term “political or secular religions” is the latest addition to them3. Because of its4 derivative origin, borrowing its standards from the natural sciences,5 it may be6 only natural that the science of society8 should always have remained one step behind. Natural scientists know today what social scientists have not yet discovered, that almost every hypothesis with which they approach natural occurrences11 will somehow yield positive results; it13 is as though the moment man puts a question to nature, everything hurries up to re-arrange itself in accordance with his question. I think the day will come when social scientists to their dismay will discover that this is even more true in their own field. There14 is nothing that cannot be proved and very little that can be disproved: history arranges itself as conveniently and consistently under the category of challenge and response as it arranged itself under the category of class struggle16. There is no reason why it should not show the same obedience when approached with the terminology of secular religions.	Social science owes its origin to the ambition to found a1 “positive science of history” which could match2 the positive science of nature3. Because of this4 derivative origin, it is6 only natural that the “positive7 science of history”8 should always have remained one step behind natural science which was its great model9. Natural scientists know today,10 what social scientists have not yet discovered, that almost every hypothesis with which they approach nature11 will somehow work out and12 yield positive results; so great seems the pliability of observed occurrences that they will always give man the expected answer. It13 is as though the moment man |15 puts a question to nature, everything hurries up to re-arrange itself in accordance with his question. I think the day will come when social scientists to their dismay will discover that this is even more true in their own field; there14 is nothing that cannot be proved and very little that can be disproved: history arranges itself as conveniently and consistently under the category of challenge and response or in accordance with ideal types15 as it arranged itself under the category of class struggles to Marx’s own satisfaction16. There is no reason why it should not show the same obedience when approached with the terminology of secular religions.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
43
There is, however, one condition to this pliability of historical material, and that is that everything is considered not in its essential nature but only in its function in society, and this consideration in turn is possible only if we refuse to listen to what the sources say themselves, to the content of speech.1 To take a convenient example, Max Weber coined his ideal type of the2 “charismatic leader3” after the model of Jesus of Nazareth; his followers found no difficulty in applying the4 same category to Hitler. From the viewpoint of the5 social scientist6, Hitler and Jesus were the same, allegedly7 fulfilled the same social function8. It is obvious that such a conclusion is possible only for people who refuse to [metamark (text connection)]listen to what either Jesus or Hitler said. (By taking this example, I do not mean to imply that Max Weber himself would ever have been guilty of this monstrous identification; his great sense of history and respect for historical facts have always prevented his carrying his own methodological instruments and perplexities into absurdity.) Something very similar seems now to happen to the term “religion”. It is no accident, but the very fundament of the whole trend toward seeing religions everywhere that one of its prominent adherents quotes in a footnote, with approval, the astonishing discovery of one of his colleagues “that God is not only a late arrival in religion; it is not indispensable that he should come.” [metamark (text connection)]Here the danger of blasphemy, always inherent in the term “secular religion” shows itself freely, precisely because this is not an accidental remark of some obscure author but poses as result of scientific |17 research. If secular religions are possible in the sense that Communism is a “religion without God”, then we no longer live merely in a secular world which has banished religion from its public affairs, but in a world which has eliminated God even from religion--something which Marx and Engels still believed to be impossible.10	(There is, however, one condition to this pliability of historical material, and that is that everything is considered not in its essential nature but only in its function in society, and this consideration in turn is possible only if we refuse to listen to what the sources say themselves, |19 to the content of speech.)1 To take a convenient example, Max Weber coined his ideal type of the2 “charismatic leader3” after the model of Jesus of Nazareth; his followers found no difficulty in applying the4 same category to Hitler. From the viewpoint of the5 social scientist6, Hitler and Jesus were the same, allegedly7 fulfilled the same social function8. It is obvious that such a conclusion is possible only for people who refuse to listen to what either Jesus or Hitler said. (By taking this example, I do not meant to imply that Max Weber himself would ever have been guilty of this montrous identification; his great sense of history and respect for historical facts have always prevented his carrying his own methodological intruments and perplexities into absurdity.) Something very similar seems now to happen to the term “religion.” It is no accident, but the very fundament of the whole trend toward seeing religions everywhere, that one of its prominent adherents quotes in a footnote, with approval, the astonishing discovery of one of his colleagues “that God is not only a late arrival in religion; it is not indispensable that he should come.” Here the danger of blasphemy, always inherent in the term “secular religion” shows itself freely, precisely because this is not an accidental remark of some obscure author but poses as result of scientific research. If secular religions are possible in the sense that Communism is a “religion without God,” then we no longer live merely in a secular world which has banished religion from its public affairs, but in a world which has eliminated God even from religion--something which Marx and Engels still believed impossible.10	There is, however, one condition to this disconcerting pliability of historical material, and that is that everything be considered not in its essential nature, but only in its function in society. And this consideration, in turn, is possible only if we refuse to listen to what the sources say themselves, to the content of speech.1 To take a convenient example, Max Weber coined his ideal type of “charismatic leadership3” after the model of Jesus of Nazareth. His followers did, what he himself of course would never have done, and applied this4 same category to Hitler. From the viewpoint of social scientists6, Hitler and Jesus had become the same “type” ; they7 fulfilled the same function in society8. It is obvious that such a conclusion is |7 379 possible only for people who refuse to listen to what either Jesus or Hitler said. Something very similar seems now to happen to the term “religion”. It is no accident, but the very fundament of the whole trend toward seeing religions everywhere, that one of its prominent adherents quotes with approval the astonishing discovery of one of his colleagues “that God is not only a late arrival in religion; it is not indispensable that he should come.” If secular religions are possible in the sense that Communism is a “religion without God”, then we no longer live merely in a secular world which has banished religion from its public affairs, but in a world which has eliminated God even from religion--something which Marx and Engels still believed to be impossible.10	To take a convenient example, Max Weber coined his ideal type of the2 “charismatic leader3” after the model of Jesus of Nazareth; pupils of Karl Mannheim found no difficulty in applying the4 same category to Hitler. From the viewpoint of the5 social scientist6, Hitler and Jesus fulfilled the same social function8. It is obvious that such a conclusion is possible only for people who refuse to listen to what either Jesus or Hitler said.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
44
It is undeniable that this functionalization and desubstantialization of our categories is no isolated phenomenon occuring1 in some ivory tower of scholarly thought. It is closely connected, of course,2 with the growing functionalization of our society itself, or rather,3 with the fact that modern man in true actuality is4 more and more a mere function of society and, hence,6 well on his8 way to becoming a member9 of what Marx still called enthusiastically a “10socialized humanity (gesellschaftliche Menschheit)”.13 The question is only whether scholars, many of whom so ardently and with such excellent reasons have opposed the “socialization of the means of production” should help or hinder the far more dangerous socialization of man.	It is undeniable that this functionalization and desubstantialization of our categories is no isolated phenomenon occurring1 in some ivory tower of scholarly thought. It is closely connected, of course,2 with the growing functionalization of our society itself, or rather,3 with the fact that modern |20 man in true actuality is4 more and more a mere function of society and, hence,6 well on his8 way to becoming a member9 of what Marx still called enthusiastically a “10socialized humanity (gesellschaftliche Menschheit).”13 The question is only whether scholars, many of whom so ardently and with such excellent reasons have opposed the “socialization of the means of production” should help or hinder the far more dangerous socialization of man.	It is undeniable that this functionalization and desubstantialization of our categories is no isolated phenomenon occurring1 in some ivory tower of scholarly thought. It is closely connected with the growing functionalization[metamark ] of our society itself, with the fact that modern man has become4 more and more a mere function of society. The totalitarian world5 and its ideologies are not a radicalization of our own secularity and of atheistic trends within it; but they are to a certain extent the radicalization of this functionalization in that they treat human beings under the assumtion that they are nothing but “functions” of some inevitable historical or natural processes. The danger is that we may6 well be7 on our8 way to becoming members9 of what Marx still called enthusiastically “a10 socialized humanity”11 (a12 gesellschaftliche Menschheit).13 The question is only whether scholars, many of whom so ardently and with such excellent reasons have opposed the “socialization of the means of production”,14 should help or hinder the far more dangerous socialization of man.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
45
IV	IV	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	IV
46
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	If we look at the same problem from a purely scientific viewpoint, it seems obvious that one reason for the formalization of social science categories is the scientifically comprehensible desire to find general rules which can subsume occurrences of all times and types. If we are to trust Engel’s interpretation of Marx, Marx was also the father of the social sciences in this purely scientific sense. He was the first to compare natural science with the humanities and to conceive simultaneously with Comte of a “science of society” as an all-encompassing discipline, “the sum total of the so-called historical and philosophical sciences,” which would share and live up to the same scientific standards as natural science. “We live not only in nature but also in human society” and society therefore should be open to the same methods and rules of investigation as nature. An insistence on the complementary character of nature and society henceforth formed the basis of the formal and unhistorical categories which began to dominate the historical and social sciences.
47
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Such categories include not only Marx’s “class struggle,” conceived as the law of historical development just as Darwin’s law of the survival of the fittest was the law of natural development, but more recently Toynbee’s “challenge and response” or Max Weber’s “ideal types,” as they are used today, not by Max Weber himself. It looks as though “political or secular religions” is the latest addition, inasmuch as this terminology, though originally designed to interpret totalitarian movements, has already universalized itself and is now used to cover a wide range of occurrences, disparate in time as well as in nature.
48
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Social science owes its origin to the ambition to found a “positive science of history” which could match the positive science of nature. Because of this derivative origin, it is only natural that the “positive science of history” should always have remained one step behind natural science which was its great model. Thus, natural scientists know today what social scientists have not yet discovered, that almost every hypothesis with which they approach nature will somehow work out and yield positive results; so great seems the pliability of observed occurrences that they will always give man the expected answer. It is as though the moment man puts a question to nature everything hurries to rearrange itself in accordance with his question. The day will come when social scientists to their dismay will discover that this is true even more in their own field; there is nothing that cannot be proved and very little that can be disproved; history arranges itself as conveniently and consistently under the category of “challenge-and-response” or in accordance with “ideal types” as it arranged itself under the category of class struggles. There is no reason why it should not show the same obedience when approached with the terminology of secular religions.
49
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Something very similar seems now to happen to the term “religion”.2 It is no accident, but the very fundament3 of the whole4 trend toward seeing5 religions everywhere, that one of its prominent adherents quotes in a footnote, with approval, the astonishing discovery of one of his colleagues “that God is not only a late arrival in religion; it is not indispensable that he should come.” Here the danger of blasphemy, always inherent in the term “secular religion” shows itself freely. |16 .6 If secular religions are possible in the sense that Communism is a “religion without God”,7 then we no longer live merely in a secular world which has banished religion from its public affairs, but in a world which8 has eliminated God even10 from religion -- something which Marx and Engels still believed to be impossible.	To take a convenient example, Max Weber coined his ideal type of the “charismatic leader” after the model of Jesus of Nazareth; pupils of Karl Mannheim found no difficulty in applying the same category to Hitler. From the viewpoint of the social scientist, Hitler and Jesus were identical because they fulfilled the same social function. It is obvious that such a conclusion is possible only for people who refuse to listen to what either Jesus or Hitler said.1 Something very similar seems now to happen to the term “religion.”2 It is no accident, but the very essence3 of the trend which sees5 religions everywhere, that one of its prominent adherents quotes in a footnote, with approval, the astonishing discovery of one of his colleagues “that God is not only a late arrival in religion; it is not indispensable that he should come.” Here the danger of blasphemy, always inherent in the term “secular religion” shows itself freely. If secular religions are possible in the sense that Communism is a “religion without God,”7 then we no longer live merely in a secular world which has banished religion from its public affairs, but in a world what8 has even9 eliminated God from religion--something which Marx and Engels still believed to be impossible.
50
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	It is undeniable that this functionalization and desubstantialization1 of our categories is no isolated phenomenon occuring2 in some ivory tower of scholarly thought. It is closely connected with the growing functionalization of our society itself3, or rather,4 with the fact that modern man in true actuality5 has become more and more6 a mere function of society. The totalitarian world and its ideologies are7 not a radicalization of our own secularity or8 of atheistic trends within the secular world9; but10 they are to a large extent indeed a radicalization11 of this functionalization because their12 methods of domination rest on the assumption that men can be completely conditioned,13 because they are anyhow14 only functions of some higher historical or natural forces. The danger is that we may well15 be on our way to becoming members of what Marx still called17 enthusiastically a “18gesellschaftliche Menschheit”19 (a socialized humanity). It is sometimes20 curious to see that21 the same22 people,23 who are passionately opposed to all “socialization of the means of production”,24 unwittingly help and support the far more dangerous socialization of man. IV In this atmosphere of terminological quarrels and mutual misunderstandings the fundamental question concerning the relationship between religion and politics looms large and indistinct. If, we may do well to consider secularity in its political, non-spiritual, aspect only, and ask: which is the religious element in the past whose political relevance was so great that its loss had an immediate impact on our political life? Or, to put the same question in another way: which was the specifically political element in traditional religion? The justification of this question seems to me to lie in the fact that the separation of the public and religious spheres of life, which we call politically secularity, did not simply severe politics from religion in general, but very specifically from the Christian creed. And[metamark ———>] |17 [metamark ->]Christianity is not only a transcendent religion, it has a very outspoken relation to general secular happenings in this world which can hardly be called political in the sense of public-minded and which still may best be summed up in the words of Tertullian: nobis nulla magis res aliena quam publica -- “nothing is more alien to us (Christians) than public affairs.” If, one of the chief characteristics of our present public life and its perplexities is its very secularity, then the Christian religion must have contained a powerful specifically political element whose loss has changed the very character of our public existence.25	It is undeniable that this desubstantializing functionalization1 of our categories is no isolated phenomenon occurring2 in some ivory tower of scholarly thought. It is closely connected with the growing functionalization of our society, or rather with the fact that modern man has increasingly become6 a mere function of society. The totalitarian world and its ideologies do7 not reflect the radical aspect8 of secularism or atheism9; they do reflect the radical aspect of the functionalization11 of men. Their12 methods of domination rest on the assumption that men can be completely conditioned because they are only functions of some higher historical or natural forces. The danger is that we may all15 be well16 on our way to becoming members of what Marx still enthusiastically called a18 gesellschaftliche Menschheit (a socialized humanity). It is curious to see how often21 the very22 people who are passionately opposed to all “socialization of the means of production” unwittingly help and support the far more dangerous socialization of man.
51
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	V
52
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	It is, unfortunately, in the nature of such scientific discussions that1 the fundamental question underlying all the single quarrels2 and, perhaps, misunderstandings is all too easily lost sight of. Behind the question of whether this is a4 religious or a mere power--i.e. a mere political--struggle, and behind the questionable use of the term “secular or political religions” lies5 the question of the relationship between religion and politics. If we try to relate this much larger, and I think, still very obscure question6 to our specific problem7, and if we take the fact of the present secular world8 in its primarily political, and not primarily9 religious or spiritual aspect, then we must ask which is the religious element whose political relevance was so great that its loss had an immediate impact on our political10 life. The justification of this question seems to me to lie in the nature of Christianity itself and in the consideration that we did not just lose or preserve or transform a religion, but specifically the Christian creed.11	It is unfortunately in the nature of such scientific discussions that1 the fundamental question underlying all the single quarrels2 and, perhaps, misunderstandings is all too easily lost sight of. Behind the question of whether this is a4 religious struggle lies5 the question of the relationship between religion and politics. If we try to relate this much larger issue6 [metamark ]to our specific problem7, and if we take secularity8 in its primarily political, not9 religious or spiritual, aspect, then we must ask which is the religious element in the past whose political relevance was so great that its loss had an immediate impact on our political10 life. Or, o put the same question in another way: which was the specifically political element in traditional religion?11	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	In this atmosphere of terminological quarrels and mutual misunderstandings1 the fundamental question concerning the relationship between religion2 and politics looms large and indistinct. To approach it3, it may be well to consider secularism in its political, non-spiritual aspect only and ask, which was the4 religious element in5 the past so politically relevant that its loss had an immediate impact on our political life? Or,6 to put the same question in another way7, which was the specifically political element8 in traditional religion? The justification of this question lies in the fact that the separation of the public and9 religious spheres of life which we call secularism did not simply sever politics from religion in general but very specifically from the Christian creed. And if one of the chief causes of the perplexities of our present public10 life is its very secularity, then the Christian religion must have contained a powerful political element whose loss has changed the very character of our public existence.11
53
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Christianity is not only a transcendent religion, it has a very outspoken relation to general secular happenings in this world which can hardly be called political in the sense of public-minded and which still may best be summed up in the words of Tertullian: nobis nulla magis res aliena quam publica --“nothing is more alien to us (Christians) than public affairs.” If, as |21 I think, it is true that one of the chief characteristics of our present public life and its perplexities is its very secularity, then the Christian religion (Tertullian’s, and many other great theologians’, statement notwithstanding) must have contained a powerful specifically political element whose loss has changed the very character of our public existence. Since the present crisis is admittedly primarily a political one, I think we are fustified in asking for the political, as distinguished from the spiritual, significance of secularity.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
54
It is, unfortunately, in the nature of such scientific discussions that the fundamental question underlying all the single quarrels and, perhaps, misunderstandings is all too easily lost sight of. Behind the question of whether this is a religious or a mere power --i.e. a mere political-- struggle, and behind the questionable use of the term “secular or political religions” lies the question of the relationship between religion and politics. If we try to relate this much larger, and I think, still very obscure question to our specific problem, and if we take the fact of the present secular world in its primarily political, and not primarily religious or spiritual aspect, then we must ask which is the religious element whose political relevance was so great that its loss [metamark (text connection)]had an immediate impact on our political life. The justification of this question seems to me to lie in the nature of Christianity itself and in the consideration that we did not just lose or preserve or transform a religion, but specifically the Christian [or to put the same question in another way: which was the speicifically political element in traditional religion?] —————————→ |19| |18 [metamark (text connection)]creed. Christianity is not only a transcendent religion, it has a very outspoken relation to general secular happenings in this world which can hardly be called political in the sense of public-minded and which still may best be summed up in the words of Tertullian: nobis nulla magis res aliena quam publica --“nothing is more alien to us (Christians) than public affairs.” If, as I think, it is true that one of the chief characteristics of our present public life and its perplexities is its very secularity, then the Christian religion (Tertullian’s, and many other great theologians’, statement notwithstanding) must have contained a powerful specifically political element whose loss has changed the very character of our public existence. Since the present crisis is admittedly primarily a political one, I think we are justified in asking for the political, as distinguished from the spiritual, significance of secularity.1 A preliminary indication as to where the answer to this question may lie2 is perhaps given in the unusually brutal and vulgar dictum of a badly frightened king, who in his panic at the revolutionary disturbances of 1848 exclaimed:3 “The people must not be permitted to lose its religion.” We may, for our purposes, take this statement a little more seriously than it probably was meant and leave out of account the well-known alliance between “throne and altar” which is part of church and of secular politics, but has little to do with the Christian creed.4 This king also talked about the importance of beliefs in politics, and5 showed a surprising6 confidence in the Christian creed for purely secular purposes. This is7 surprising if we remember that,8 during the first centuries of its existence,9 the Christian creed had been considered by Christians and non-Christians to be irrelevant10 at best and often11 dangerous and destructive of the public sphere of life. What had happened in the meantime that now, in a time which was almost as secular, it could be called upon for the very preservation of political life? (For this and similar statements on the political aspect of the relation between religion and politics were of course never made during the truly Christian Middle Ages, when |19 [metamark (text connection)]organized religion was a powerful political factor and therefore could not become a mere political instrument. Thus we find them either in the beginning of our era, when Christianity developed in a still completely secular world of public affairs, or in the modern age when public affairs once more have become secular.)14	A preliminary indication as to where the answer to this question may lie2 is perhaps given in the unusually brutal and vulgar dictum of a badly frightened king, who in his panic at the revolutionary disturbances of 1848 exclaimed:3 “The people must not be permitted to lose its religion.” We may, for our purposes, take this statement a little more seriously than it probably was meant and leave out of account the well-known alliance between “throne and altar” which is part of church and of secular politics, but has little to do with the Christian creed.4 This king also talked about the importance of beliefs in politics, and5 showed a surprising6 confidence in the Christian creed for purely secular purposes. This is7 surprising if we remember that,8 during the first centuries of its existence,9 the Christian creed had been considered by Christians and non-Christians to be irrelevant10 at best and often11 dangerous and destructive of the public sphere of life. What had happened in the meantime that now, in a time which was almost as secular, it could be called upon for the very preservation of political life? (For this and similar statements on the political aspect of the relation between religion and politics were of course never made during the truly Christian Middle Ages, when organized religion was a powerful political factor and therefore could not become a mere political intrument. Thus we find them |22 either in the beginning of our era, when Christianity developed in a still completely secular world of public affairs, or in the modern age when public affairs once more have become secular.)14	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	A preliminary indication as to where the answer to this question may lie2 is perhaps given in the unusually brutal and vulgar dictum of a badly frightened king, who in his panic at the revolutionary disturbances of 1848 exclaimed:3 “The people must not be permitted to lose its religion.” This king showed confidence in the secular power of the Christian creed quite7 surprising if we remember that,8 during the first centuries of its existence,9 the Christian creed had been considered by Christians and non-Christians at best irrelevant if not11 dangerous and destructive of the public sphere of life. What had happened in the meantime that now, in a time which was almost as secular, it could be called upon for the very preservation of political life? |18	A preliminary indication is perhaps given in the unusually brutal and vulgar dictum of a badly frightened king, who in his panic at the revolutionary disturbances of 1848 exclaimed,3 “The people must not be permitted to lose its religion.” This king showed a6 confidence in the secular power of the Christian creed, quite7 surprising if we remember that during the first centuries of its existence the Christian creed had been considered by Christians and non-Christians alike as10 at best irrelevant to, if not11 dangerous and destructive of,12 the public sphere of life. The phrase of Tertullian: “Nothing is more alien to us [Christians] than public affairs” only sums up the early Christian attitude to secular, political life.13 What had happened in the meantime that now, in a time which was almost as secular, it could be called upon for the very preservation of political life?
55
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	37	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
56
Marx’s answer, to this question as brutal as the king’s statement,1 is well known: “Religion is the opiate of the people.” It2 is a very unsatisfactory answer, not because it is vulgar,3 but because it is so [metamark (text connection)]unlikely that specifically4 Christian teachings--their unrelenting stress on the person and his own share in the salvation of his soul5, their insistence on the sinfulness of man and the concomitant elaboration of a catalogue of sins greater than in any [metamark (text connection)]other8 religion, which certainly has made life more complicated for the ordinary person than9 ever before--could be10 used by a true believer ever11 for anything as luxurious and soul calming12 as an opiate13. Surely, the new political ideologies14 in terror-ruled totalitarian15 countries, explaining16 everything and preparing17 for anything in an atmosphere of unbearable insecurity, are far more likely and much18 better fitted to immunize man’s soul against the shocking impact of reality than any traditional religion we know. From the vantage point of totalitarian domination19, whose ideological training drugs and stimulates its executionerss as well as its victims,20 the pious resignation to God’s will, which is usually meant when religion is denounced as an opiate, looks like21 a child’s pocket-knife compared to atomic weapons.	Marx’s answer, as brutal as the king’s statement,1 is well known: “Religion is the opiate of the people.” it2 is a very unsatisfactory answer, not because it is vulgar,3 but because it is so unlikely that specifically4 Christian teachings--their unrelenting stress on the person and his own share in the salvation of his soul5, their insistence on the sinfulness of man and the concomitant elaboration of a catalogue of sins greater than in any other8 religion, which certainly has made life more complicated for the ordinary person than9 ever before--could be10 used by a true believer ever11 for anything as luxurious and soul-calming12 as an opiate13. Surely, the new political ideologies14 in terror-ruled totalitarian15 countries, explaining16 everything and preparing17 for anything in an atmosphere of unbearable insecurity, are far more likely and much18 better fitted to immunize man’s soul against the shocking impact of reality than any traditional religion we know. From the vantage point of totalitarian domination19, whose ideological training drugs and stimulates its executions as well as its victims,20 the pious resignation to God’s will, which is usually meant when religion is denounced as an opiate, looks lika21 a child’s pocket-knife compared to atomic weapons.	Marx’s answer to this question1 is well known: “Religion is the opiate of the people.” It2 is a very unsatisfactory answer, not because it is vulgar,3 but because it is so unlikely that specifically4 Christian teachings, their insistence on the sinfulness of man and the concomitant elaboration of a catalogue of sins greater and more sophisticated7 than in any previous8 religion, could9 ever have been10 used for anything as soul calming12 as a narcotic13. Surely, totalitarian ideologies which14 in terror-ruled countries explain16 everything and prepare17 for anything in an atmosphere of unbearable insecurity, are far better fitted to immunize man’s soul against the shocking impact of reality than any traditional religion we know. From the vantage point of totalitarian domination19, where ideological training drugs and stimulates its executioners as well as its victims,20 the pious resignation to God’s will, which is usually meant when religion is denounced as an opiate, looks like21 a child’s pocket-knife compared to atomic weapons.	Marx’s answer,1 is well known: “Religion is the opiate of the people.” It2 is a very unsatisfactory answer, not because it is vulgar,3 but because it is so unlikely that specifically4 Christian teachings -- their unrelenting stress on the person and his own share in the salvation of his soul5, their insistence on the sinfulness of man and the concomitant elaboration of a catalogue of sins greater than in any other8 religion, which certainly has made life more complicated for the ordinary person than9 ever before -- could be10 used by a true believer ever11 for anything as luxurious and calming12 as an opiate13. Surely, the new political ideologies14 in terror-ruled totalitarian15 countries, explaining16 everything and preparing17 for anything in an atmosphere of unbearable insecurity, are far more likely and much18 better fitted to immunize man’s soul against the shocking impact of reality than any traditional religion we know. From the vantage point of totalitarian domination19, whose ideological training drugs and stimulates its executionerss as well as its victims,20 the pious resignation to God’s will looks like21 a child’s pocket-knife compared to atomic weapons.	Marx’s answer, as brutal as the king’s statement,1 is well known: “Religion is the opiate of the people.” It2 is a very unsatisfactory answer, not because it is vulgar but because it is so unlikely that Christian teachings in particular, with their unrelenting stress on the individual and his own role in the salvation of his soul5, and6 their insistence on the sinfulness of man and the concomitant elaboration of a catalogue of sins greater than in any other8 religion, could9 ever be10 used for anything so calming12 as an opiate13. Surely the new political ideologies14 in terror-ruled totalitarian15 countries, explaining16 everything and preparing17 for anything in an atmosphere of unbearable insecurity, are far better fitted to immunize man’s soul against the shocking impact of reality than any traditional religion we know. Compared with them19, the pious resignation to God’s will seems like21 a child’s pocket-knife compared to atomic weapons.
57
There1 is one powerful element in traditional religion whose usefulness for rule and enforcement2 is self-evident and whose origin, though doubtful in some respects,4 is certainly5 not only, and perhaps not even6 primarily, of a religious nature.And this is the medieval doctrine of Hell. This doctrine goes back to Plato’s concluding myths in the Rep. and other political dialogues where it had a purely political function. [metamark → 22] The medieval doctrine of Hell,7 its elaborate description, geographical and otherwise,8 of the place of punishment after death,9 owes very little10 to the preaching of Jesus, and even11 required several centuries after Jesus’ death to assert itself at all. It is interesting that this assertion coincided with the downfall of Rome, i.e. the disappearance of an assured secular order whose authority and responsibility only now became a charge of the Church.	There1 is one powerful element in traditional religion whose usefulness for rule and enforcement2 is self-evident and whose origin, though doubtful in some respects,4 is certainly5 not only, and perhaps not even6 primarily, of a religious nature. The medieval doctrine of Hell,7 its elaborate description, geographical and otherwise,8 of the place of punishment after death,9 owes very little10 to the preaching of Jesus, and even11 required several centuries after Jesus’ death to assert itself at all. It is interesting that this |23 assertion coincided with the downfall of Rome, i.e. the disappearance of an assured secular order whose authority and responsibility only now became a charge of the Church.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	There1 is one powerful element in traditional religion whose usefulness for the support of authority2 is self-evident and whose origin,4 is probably5 not, or at least not6 primarily, of a religious nature: The medieval doctrine of Hell7 its elaborate description of the place of punishment after death,9 owes very little10 to the preaching of Jesus or to the Jewish heritage, and even11 required several centuries after Jesus’ death to assert itself at all. It is interesting that this assertion coincided with the downfall of Rome, i.e. the disappearance of an assured secular order whose authority and responsibility only now became a charge of the Church.	But there1 is one powerful element in traditional religion whose usefulness for the support of authority2 is self-evident,3 and whose origin is probably5 not of a religious nature, at least not6 primarily--the medieval doctrine of Hell. Neither the doctrine nor7 its elaborate description of the place of punishment after death owes very much10 to the preaching of Jesus or to the Jewish heritage. Indeed, it11 required several centuries after Jesus’ death to assert itself at all. It is interesting that this assertion coincided with the downfall of Rome, i.e.,12 the disappearance of an assured secular order whose authority and responsibility only now became a charge of the Church.
58
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	In striking opposition1 to the scarcity of sources2 in Hebrew and early Christian writings stands the overpowering influence of Plato’s myth of a Hereafter, with which he concludes so many of his political dialogues, on political thought of antiquity and later on Christian teaching5. Between Plato and the secular victory of Christianity which brought with it the religious sanction of the doctrine of Hell (so that from then on this became so general a feature of the Christian world that political treatises did not need to mention it specifically), there is hardly an important discussion of political problems which did not conclude with an imitation of the Platonian myth. For it is Plato, and not the strictly Jewish-Christian religious sources, who is the most important forerunner of Dante’s elaborate descriptions; in him we find already the geographical separation of Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, and not merely the concept of final judgment about eternal life or eternal death and the hint at possible punishment after death.	In striking contrast1 to the scarcity of references2 in Hebrew and early Christian writings stands the overpowering influence on political thought3 of antiquity and of later Christian teaching of4 Plato’s myth of a Hereafter, with which he concludes so many of his political dialogues. Between Plato and the secular victory of Christianity which brought with it the religious sanction of the doctrine of Hell (so that from then on this became so general a feature of the Christian world that political treatises did not need to mention it specifically), there is hardly an important discussion of political problems--except Aristotle--6which did not conclude with an imitation of the Platonian myth. For it is Plato, and not the strictly Jewish-Christian religious sources, who is the most important forerunner of Dante’s elaborate descriptions; in him we find already the geographical separation of Hell, Purgatory,7 and Paradise, and not merely the concept of final judgment about eternal life or eternal death and the hint at possible punishment after death.
59
[metamark (text connection)]In striking opposition to the scarcity of sources in Hebrew and early Christian writings stands the overpowering influence of Plato’s myth of a Hereafter, with which he concludes so many of his political dialogues, on political thought of antiquity and later on Christian teaching. Between Plato and the secular victory of Christianity which brought with its the religious sanction of the doctrine of Hell (so that from then on this became so general a feature of the Christian world that political treatises did not need to mention it specifically), there is hardly an important discussion of political problems (with the great exception of Aristotle’s work, however) which did not conclude with an imitation of the Platonian myth. For it is Plato, and not the strictly Jewish-Christian religious sources, who is the most important forerunner of Dante’s elaborate descriptions; in him we find already the geographical separation of Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, and not merely the concept of final judgment about eternal life or eternal death and the hint at possible punishment after death.1 The purely political implications of Plato’s myth in the last book of the Republic, as well as the concluding parts of the2 Phaidon and the3 Gorgias, are indisputable. In the Republic, it4 corresponds to the story of the cave, which is the center of the whole work and which is not a myth but an allegory, destined5 for the few who are able,6 without hope7 or fear to perform8 the Platonic περιαγωγή9, the turning around from the shadowy life of seeming reality to the clear sky of ideas. Life with the11 ideas, while it clearly alienated them from12 the life of the polis, taught the few13 true standards of all life, including political affairs, in which, however, they were15 no longer to16 be interested for their own sake17. Only the fear of being ruled by the multitude could arouse the few to fulfill their political duties. These18 who could understand the story of the cave were not supposed to believe the concluding myth about final reward and punishment. Not only did those who had19 grasped the truth of the ideas as transcendent standards need no more20 tangible transcendence like an explicit21 life after death; it would not even have made22 much sense insofar as23 the story of the cave already describes life on earth as a kind of Underworld, and this |21 [metamark (text connection)]sense is reinforced by24 Plato’s use of the words eidôlon and25 skia which were the key words of Homer’s description of Hades in the Odyssey so that26 the whole story reads27 like an exact28 reply to Homer:30 not the soul is the shadow and not32 its life after death the purposeless insustantial motion33 in the Underworld34, but the bodily life of ordinary mortals who do not succed35 in turning away from the cave of earthly life; our life on earth is life in an Underworld36, our body is the shadow and our only reality is the soul. Since the truth of the ideas is self-revealing and therefore37 self-evident, the true standards for earthly life can never be satisfactorily argued out and demonstrated. The multitude which lacks the eye for the invisible measurement of all visible things, needs belief in a stark bodily transcendence in which it does not hold truth itself but only its “myth”. Whether or not Plato himself believed in the immortality of the soul, the myth of graduated bodily punishment after death (which since it is bodily even contradicts the theory that only the soul, not the body is immortal) is clearly the invention of a philosophy which deemed public affairs, the affairs in which all are equally involved, secondary and therefore subject to the rule of a truth which is accessible only to a few. The few cannot persuade the multitude of truth because truth cannot become the object of persuasion and persuasion is the only way to deal with the multitude (peithein τὰ πλήθη and rhetoric being the specifically political modes of speech while philosophizing, dialegein, is always carried through in the mode of autos autô, of one person talking to one other). But while the multitude cannot be instructed in the doctrine of truth, it can be persuaded to believe an opinion as though this opinion were the truth. The appropriate opinion which carries the truth of the few to the multitude is the belief in Hell; persuading the citizens of its existence will make them behave as though they knew the truth. In other words, the doctrine of Hell in Plato is clearly a political instrument invented for political purposes. This is equally obvious in the concluding myths of the Phaidon and the Gorgias, though we do not have there a corresponding allegory that tells |22 [metamark (text connection)]the philosophical truth like the cave story in the Republic. The Phaidon is not primarily the dialogue on the soul’s immortality, but “a revised Apology ‘more persuasive than the speech (Socrates) made in (his) defence before the judges.’” And in Gorgias, which in some ways is the first attempt to solve those problems of justice which later were the subject of the Republic, Socrates brings up his myth, still with great diffidence and clearly indicating that he does not take it too seriously, after he has failed to persuade the masters of rhetoric, i.e. of the argument proper for political affairs, and thus has found out that in this realm it cannot be “proved” that it is better to suffer wrong than do wrong. No doubt, speculations about life after death and descriptions of the Hereafter are as old as the conscious life of man on earth. Still, it may be true that we find in Plato for “the first time in the history of literature that any such legend (sc. of punishment and reward among the dead) has been definitely enlisted in the service of righteousness”, i.e. in the service of public, political life. This seems confirmed by the fact that the Platonic myth was so eagerly used by purely secular writers in antiquity, who as clearly as Plato indicated that they did not seriously believe in it, while, on the other hand, the the Christian creed shows no such doctrine of Hell as long as Christianity remained without secular interests and responsibilities. On the contrary, Christian writers during the first centuries almost unanimously believed in a mission of Christ to the Underworld whose main purpose had been to liquidate Hell, to defeat Satan and to liberate the souls of dead sinners, as he had liberated the souls of Christians, from death and punishment. It looks as though the origin of this doctrine was primarily political and that] and it continued to be used for political purposes; that it played no noticeable role in Christianity during the centuries of a purely religious development and received its religious sanction only in the early Middle Ages when political necessity confronted the Church, as it had ancient philosophy, with the old perplexity of enforcing absolute standards |23 [metamark (text connection)] on a realm of life whose very essence seems to be relativity, and this under the eternal human condition where the worst that man can do to man is to kill him, that is to bring about what one day is bound to happen to him anyhow. The “improvement” on this condition proposed in the doctrine of Hell is precisely that punishment can mean more than eternal death, namely eternal suffering in which the souls yearn for death. In Plato, it frankly substitutes insight into truth and thus gives human understanding a reliability which it could not possibly have otherwise; in Roman antiquity and in a considerably mellowed form, it is destined to enforce and encourage honorable behavior, until finally during the centuries of undisputed Christian authority in religious as well as secular matters, it was apparently taught on the assumption that the stings of conscience were not a too reliable punishment[metamark (text connection)] or, for that matter, guide of behavior. (The development in Christianity itself is clearly indicated in the fourth Lateran Council’s condemnation (in 1215) of the teaching that “hell is not a special place, but that the man who exists in a state of deadly sin finds hell in his own self” and the Church’s rejection of Origin’s opinion that “the fire of hell consisted as much in the stings of conscience as in material torment or the body.”)38	In striking opposition to the scarcity of sources in Hebrew and early Christian writings stands the overpowering influence of Plato’s myth of a Hereafter, with which he concludes so many of his political dialogues, on political thought of antiquity and later on Christian teaching. Between Plato and the secular victory of Christianity which brought with it the religious sanction of the doctrine of Hell (so that from then on this became so general a feature of the Christian world that political treatises did not need to mention it specifically), there is hardly an important discussion of political problems (with the great exception of Aristotle’s work, however) which did not conclude with an imitation of the Platonian myth. For it is Plato, and not the strictly Jewish-Christian religious sources, who is the most important forerunner of Dante’s elaborate descriptions; in him we find already the geographical separation of Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, and not merely the concept of final judgment about eternal life or eternal death and the hint at possible punishment after death.1 The purely political implications of Plato’s myth in the last book of the Republic, as well as the concluding parts of Phaidon and Gorgias, are indisputable. In the Republic, it4 corresponds to the story of the cave, which is the center of the whole work and which is not a myth but an allegory, destined5 for the few who are able,6 without hope7 or fear to perform8 the Platonic periagôgé9, the turning around from the shadowy life of seeming reality to the clear sky of ideas. Life with the11 ideas, while it clearly alienated them from12 the life of the polis, taught the few13 true standards of all life, including political affairs, in which, however, they were15 no longer to16 be |24 interested for their own sake17. Only the fear of being ruled by the multitude could arouse the few to fulfill their political duties. These18 who could understand the story of the cave were not supposed to believe the concluding myth about final reward and punishment. Not only did those who had19 grasped the truth of the ideas as transcendent standards need no more20 tangible transcendence like an explicit21 life after death; it would not even have made22 much sense insofar as23 the story of the cave already describes life on earth as a kind of Underworld, and this sense is reinforced by24 Plato’s use of the words eid ^ olon and25 skia which were the key words of Homer’s description of Hades in the Odyssey, so that26 the whole story reads27 like an exact28 reply to Homer:30 not the soul is the shadow and not32 its life after death the purposeless insubstantial motion33 in the Underworld34, but the bodily life of ordinary mortals who do not succeed35 in turning away from the cave of earthly life; our life on earth is life in an Underworld36, our body is the shadow and our only reality is the soul. Since the truth of the ideas is self-revealing and therefore37 self-evident, the true standards for earthly life can never be satisfactorily argued out and demonstrated. The multitude which lacks the eye for the invisible measurement of all visible things, needs belief in a stark bodily transcendence in which it does not hold truth itself but only its “myth.”38	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[metamark (unknown)]The purely political implications of Plato’s myth in the last book of the Republic, as well as the concluding parts of Phaidon and Gorgias, are indisputable. In the Republic, it4 corresponds to the story of the cave, which is the center of the whole work and which is not a myth but an allegory, destined5 for the few who are able,6 without hope7 or fear to perform8 the Platonic περιαγωγή periagôgé9 [gap], the turning around from the shadowy life of seeming reality to the clear sky of ideas. Life with the11 ideas, while it clearly alienated them from12 the life of the polis, taught the few13 true standards of all life, including political affairs, in which, however, they were15 no longer to16 be interested for their own sake17. Only the fear of being ruled by the multitude could arouse the few to fulfill their political duties. Those18 who could understand the story of the cave were not supposed to believe the concluding myth about final reward and punishment. Not only did who had19 grasped the truth of the ideas as transcendent standards need no more20 tangible like an explicit21 life after death; it would not even have made22 much sense insofar as23 the story of the cave already describes life on earth as a kind of Underworld, and this |20 sense is reinforced by24 Plato’s use of the words εἴδωλον eidôlon and σκιά25 skia which were the key words of Homer’s description of Hades in the Odyssey, so that26 the whole story reads27 like a reversal of, and probably was meant as a28 reply to,29 Homer:30 not the soul is the shadow and not32 its life after death the purposeless insubstantial motion33 in the Underworld34, but the bodily life of ordinary mortals who do not succeed35 in turning away from the cave of earthly life; our life on earth is life in an Underworld36, our body is the shadow and our only reality is the soul. Since the truth of the ideas is self-revealing and therefore37 self-evident, the true standards for earthly life can never be satisfactorily argued [metamark ]out and demonstrated. The multitude which lacks the eye for the invisible measurement of all visible things, needs belief in a stark bodily transcendence in which it does not perceive truth itself but only its “myth”.38	The purely political implications of Plato’s myth in the last book of the Republic, as well as the concluding parts of Phaidon and Gorgias, are indisputable. In the Republic this myth4 corresponds to the story of the cave, which is the center of the whole work. An allegory, the cave story is intended5 for the few who are able to perform6 without fear7 or hope of an Hereafter8 the Platonic periagogé9, the turning around from the shadowy life of seeming reality to confront10 the clear sky of “11ideas.” Only those few will understand12 the true standards of all life, including political affairs, in which last14, however, they will15 no longer be interested per se17. To be sure, those18 who could understand the story of the cave were not supposed to believe the concluding myth about final reward and punishment, because whoever19 grasped the truth of the ideas as transcendent standards no longer required any20 tangible standards such as21 life after death. The concept of life after death does not make22 much sense in their case since23 the story of the cave already describes life on earth as a kind of underworld. In fact,24 Plato’s use of the words eidōlon and25 skia which were the key words of Homer’s description of Hades in the Odyssey makes26 the whole story read27 like a reversal of, and a28 reply to,29 Homer; it is30 not the soul which31 is the shadow, nor is it32 its life after death in substantial motion34, but the bodily life of ordinary mortals who do not succeed35 in turning away from the cave of earthly life; our life on earth is life in an underworld36, our body is the shadow and our only reality is the soul. Since the truth of the ideas is self-evident, the true standards for earthly life can never be satisfactorily argued out and demonstrated.
60
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Whether or not Plato himself believed1 in the immortality of the soul, the myth of graduated bodily punishment after death (which since it3 is bodily even contradicts the theory that only the soul, not the body, is immortal) is4 clearly the invention of a philosophy which deemed public affairs, the affairs in which all are equally involved,5 secondary and therefore subject to the rule of a truth which is accessible only to a few. The few cannot persuade the multitude of truth because truth cannot become the object of persuasion and persuasion is the only way to deal with the multitude (peithein ta pléthé and rhetoric being the specifically political modes of speech while |25 philosophizing, dialegein, is always carried through in the mode of autos autô, of one person talking to one other.)8 But while the multitude cannot be instructed in the doctrine of truth, it can be persuaded to believe an opinion as though this opinion were the truth. The appropriate opinion which carries the truth of the few to the multitude is the belief in Hell; persuading the citizens of its existence will make them behave as though they knew the truth.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Whatever the nature of Plato’s own belief1 in the immortality of the soul was2 , the myth of graduated bodily punishment after death is clearly the invention of a philosophy which deemed public affairs secondary and therefore subject to the rule of a truth which is accessible only to a few. The few cannot persuade the multitude of truth because truth cannot become the object of persuasion and persuasion is the only way to deal with the multitude,8 But while the multitude cannot be instructed in the doctrine of truth, it can be persuaded to believe an opinion as though this opinion were the truth. The appropriate opinion which carries the truth of the few to the multitude is the belief in Hell; persuading the citizens of its existence will make them behave as though they knew the truth.	Belief therefore is necessary for the multitude which lacks the eyes for the invisible measurements of all visible things. Whatever the nature of Plato’s own belief1 in the immortality of the soul, the myth of graduated bodily punishment after death is clearly the invention of a philosophy which deemed public affairs secondary and therefore subject to the rule of a truth which is accessible only to a few. Indeed only the fear of being ruled by the majority could induce the few to fulfill their political duties.6 The few cannot persuade the multitude of truth because the7 truth cannot become the object of persuasion and persuasion is the only way to deal with the multitude.8 But while the multitude cannot be instructed in the doctrine of truth, it can be persuaded to believe an opinion as though this opinion were the truth. The appropriate opinion which carries the truth of the few to the multitude is the belief in Hell; persuading the citizens of its existence will make them behave as though they knew the truth.
61
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	In other words, the doctrine of Hell in Plato is clearly a political instrument invented for political purposes. This is equally obvious in the concluding myths of the Phaidon and the Gorgias, though we do not have there a corresponding allegory that tells the philosophical truth like the cave story in the Republic. The Phaidon is not primarily the dialogue on the soul’s immortality, but “a revised Apology ‘more persuasive then the speech (Socrates) made in (his) defence before the judges.’” And in Gorgias, which in some ways is the first attempt to solve those problems of justice which later were the subject of the Republic, Socrates brings up his myth, still with great diffidence and clearly indicating that he does not take it too seriously, after he has failed to persuade the masters of rhetoric, i.e. of the argument proper for political affairs, and thus has found out that in this realm it cannot be “proved” that it is better to suffer wrong than do wrong.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
62
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	No doubt, speculations1 about life after death and descriptions of the Hereafter are as old as the conscious life of man on earth. Still, it may be true3 that we find in Plato4 for “the first time in the history of literature that any such legend (sc. of punishment and reward among the dead) has been definitely enlisted in the service of righteousness,”6 i.e. in the service of public, political life. This seems confirmed by the fact that the Platonic myth was so eagerly used by purely secular writers in antiquity, who as clearly |26 as Plato indicated9 that they did not seriously believe in it, while,10 on the other hand,11 the Christian creed shows no such doctrine of Hell as long as Christianity remained without secular interests and responsibilities. On the contrary, Christian writers during the first centuries almost unanimously believed in a mission of Christ to the Underworld whose main purpose had been to liquidate Hell, to defeat Satan and to liberate the souls of the dead sinners, as he had liberated the souls of Christians, from death and punishment.12	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	In other words, the doctrine of Hell in Plato is clearly a political[metamark (text connection)] instrument invented for political purposes. |21 [metamark (text connection)] No doubt, speculations1 about life after death and descriptions of the Hereafter are as old as the conscious life of man on earth. Still, it may be true3 that we find in Plato4 for “the first time in the history of literature that any such legend (sc. of punishment and reward among the dead) has been definitely enlisted in the service of righteousness”,6 i.e. in the service of public, political life. This seems confirmed by the fact that the Platonic myth was so eagerly used by purely secular writers in antiquity, who indicated8 as clearly as Plato that they did not seriously believe in it, while,10 on the other hand,11 the Christian creed shows no such doctrine of Hell as long as Christianity remained without secular interests and responsibilities. Whatever other historical influences may have been at work to elaborate the doctrine of hell, during antiquity it continued to be used for political purposes, while Christianity adopted it officially only after the first centuries of a purely religious development. When in the early Middle Ages the Christian Church became increasingly aware of, and willing to take over, political responsibilities, the Christian creed, strangely enough, was confronted with a similar perplexity as Plato’s philosophy when it turned to matters of the polis. Both tried to enforce absolute standards on |22 on a realm of life whose very essence seems to be relativity, and this under the eternal human condition where the worst that man can do to man is to kill him, that is to bring about what one day is bound to happen to him anyhow. The “improvement” on this condition proposed in the doctrine of Hell is precisely that punishment can mean more than eternal death, namely eternal suffering in which the souls yearn for death.12	In other words, the doctrine of Hell in Plato is clearly a political instrument invented for political purposes. Speculations1 about life after death and descriptions of the Hereafter are no doubt2 as old as the conscious life of man on earth. Still, it may be that in Plato we find4 for “the first time in the history of literature that any such legend (sc.,5 of punishment and reward among the dead) has been definitely enlisted in the service of righteousness,”6 i. e.,7 in the service of public, political life. This seems confirmed by the fact that the Platonic myth was so eagerly used by purely secular writers in antiquity, who indicated8 as clearly as Plato that they did not seriously believe in it, while on the other hand the Christian creed shows no such doctrine of Hell as long as Christianity remained without secular interests and responsibilities.
63
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	It looks as though the origin of this doctrine was primarily political and that it continued to be used for political purposes; that it played no noticeable role in Christianity during1 the centuries2 of a purely religious development and received its religious sanction only in the early Middle Ages when political necessity confronted the Church, as it had ancient philosophy, with the old perplexity of enforcing absolute standards on a realm of life whose very essence seems to be relativity, and this under the eternal human condition where the worst that man can do to man is to kill him, that is to bring about what one day is bound to happen to him anyhow. The “improvement” on this condition proposed in the doctrine of Hell is precisely that punishment can mean more than eternal death3, namely eternal suffering in which the souls yearn for death. In Plato, it frankly substitutes insight into truth and thus gives human understanding a reliability which it could not possibly have otherwise; in Roman antiquity and in a considerably mellowed form, it is destined to enforce and encourage honorable behavior, until finally during the centuries of undisputed Christian authority in religious as will as secular matters4, it was apparently taught on the assumption that the stings of conscience were not a too reliable punishment or, for that matter, guide of behavior. (The development in Christianity itself is clearly indicated in the fourth Lateran Council’s condemnation (in 1215) of the teaching that |27 “hell5 is not a special place, but that the man who exists in a state of deadly sin finds hell in his own self” and the Church’s rejection of Origin’s opinion that “the fire of hell consisted as much in6 the stings of conscience as in material torment of the body7.”8	There is one powerful element in traditional religion whose usefulness for rule and enforcement is self-evident and whose origin, though doubtful in some respects, is certainly not only of a religious nature. And this is1 the doctrine2 of Hell which is much older than Christianity and, in the strict service for righteousness, first appears in Plato’s dialogues where it had a purely political function. When Nietzsche said that Christianity is Platonism for the people, one could have replied that for this purpose Christianity was entirely unnecessary insofar as Plato himself, in the concluding myths of his political dialogues--the Republic, the Gorgias, the Phaidon--had already proposed a belief to compel the people to behave in accordance with certain standards whose philosophical truth they were unable to perceive. During the first centuries of our era3, when Christianity developed under the secular authority of the Roman Empire and was itself free of secular responsibilities, this belief in Hell played a negligible role. Only when in the early Middle Ages, political necessities confronted the Church, as it had ancient philosophy since Plato, with the perplexity of enforcing absolute standards on a realm of life whose very essence seems to be relativity4, did a belief in Hell come to the foreground of Christian doctrine. For the perplexity of absolute standards in the realm of politics is that under the eternal human condition the worst that man can do to man is to kill him, that is to bring about what one day5 is bound to happen to him anyhow. The improvement on this condition proposed in the doctrine of Hell is precisely |9 that punishment can mean more than eternal death, namely eternal suffering. Characteristic of all hell pictures is that6 the souls in hell yearn for death7.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Whatever other historical influences may have been at work to elaborate1 the doctrine2 of hell, it continued during antiquity to be used for political purposes. Christianity adopted it officially only after its purely religious development had ceased. When in the early Middle Ages the Christian Church became increasingly aware of3, and willing to take over, political responsibilities, the Christian creed found itself confronted with a perplexity similar to Plato’s political philosophy. Both tried to enforce absolute standards on a realm whose very essence seems to be relativity4, and this under the eternal human condition that the worst that man can do to man is to kill him, that is to bring about what one day5 is bound to happen to him anyhow. The “improvement” on this condition proposed in the doctrine of Hell is precisely that punishment can mean more than eternal death, namely eternal suffering in which6 the soul yearns for death7.
64
If from these premises we look at the modern age, then the1 outstanding political event in the growing secularization of our o2 world seems to be that more and more people have lost or are losing3 the age-old4 belief in reward and punishment after death while the functioning of individual consciences has remained politically as unreliable as ever. When we look at the7 totalitarian side of this picture,8 we see on one hand the9 almost deliberate attempt to build, in concentration camps and torture cellars, a kind of earthly hell whose chief difference from medieval hell-images lies in technical improvements and bureaucratic administration, but also in its lack of eternity. On the other hand10, we have seen in Hitler-Germany11 that an ideology which also12 almost consciously (at least in Himmler’s speeches to SS Generals in Eastern Occupied Territories |24 ) reserved13 the command ‘14Thou Shalt Not Kill’ into the precept ‘Thou Shalt Kill’ met15 no overwhelming resistance from a Western16 trained conscience, but on17 the contrary was quite18 able to make this conscience work the other way round19, as though it were nothing but a mechanism to indicate whether or not one is in conforming agreement with society and its beliefs at large20.	If from these premises we look at the modern age, then the1 outstanding political event in the growing secularization of our2 world seems to be that more and more people have lost or are losing3 the age-old4 belief in reward and punishment after death while the functioning of individual consciences has remained politically as unreliable as ever. When we look at the7 totalitarian side of this picture,8 we see on one hand the9 almost deliberate attempt to build, in concentration camps and torture cellars, a kind of earthly hell whose chief difference from medieval hell-images lies in technical improvements and bureaucratic administration, but also in its lack of eternity. On the other hand10, we have seen in Hitler-Germany11 that an ideology which also12 almost consciously (at least in Himmler’s speeches to SS Generals in Eastern Occupied Territories) reversed13 the command “14Thou Shalt Not Kill” into the precept “Thou Shalt Kill” met15 no overwhelming resistance from a Western16 trained conscience, but on17 the contrary was quite18 able to make this conscience work the other way round19, as though it were nothing but a mechanism to indicate whether or not one is in conforming agreement with society and its beliefs at large20.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The1 outstanding political event of the secularization of our2 world seems to be that more and more people the belief in reward and punishment after death while the functioning of individual consciences has remained politically as unreliable as ever. totalitarian we see on the one hand the9 almost deliberate attempt to build, in concentration camps and torture cellars, a kind of earthly hell whose chief difference from medieval hell-images lies in technical improvements and bureaucratic administration, but also in its lack of eternity. On the other hand10, we have seen in Hitler-Germany11 that an ideology, which12 almost consciously |23 reversed13 the command ‘14Thou Shalt Not Kill’ met15 no overwhelming resistance from a conscience16 trained in the Western tradition , On17 the contrary Nazi ideology was18 able to reverse the functioning of this conscience19, as though it were nothing but a mechanism to indicate whether or not one is in conforming agreement with society and its beliefs at large20.	The1 outstanding political characteristic of our modern secular2 world seems to be that more and more people are losing3 the belief in reward and punishment after death,5 while the functioning of individual consciences or the multitude’s capacity to perceive invisible truth6 has remained politically as unreliable as ever. In7 totalitarian states8 we see the9 almost deliberate attempt to build, in concentration camps and torture cellars, a kind of earthly hell whose chief difference from medieval hell-images lies in technical improvements and bureaucratic administration, but also in its lack of eternity. Moreover10, Hitler-Germany demonstrated11 that an ideology which12 almost consciously reversed13 the command “14Thou Shalt Not Kill” need meet15 no overwhelming resistance from a conscience16 trained in the Western tradition. On17 the contrary, Nazi ideology often was18 able to reverse the functioning of this conscience19, as though it were nothing but a mechanism to indicate whether or not one is in conforming agreement with society and its beliefs.
65
The political consequence of2 the secularization of the modern [metamark ]age, in other words4, seems to lie5 in the elimination from public life6, along with religion as such, of7 the only political element in our traditional creed, the fear of Hell. This loss is politically, though certainly not spiritually, the most significant distinction between our present life and the centuries before us. Insofar as totalitarian ideologies are an interior coercion which compels8 its subjects9 as violently as10 the external compulsion11 of terror, only the fear of Hell in our own12 religious system could have hoped to compete with it in power over man’s inner souls. Yet, no matter how religious our world may turn again, or how much authentic faith still exists in it13, or how deeply our moral values may be rooted in our14 religious systems15, the fear of Hell is no longer among the motives which would prevent or stimulate the actions16 of the majority17. And this seems inevitable if secularity of the world means separation of the religious and political realms of life; under these circumstances, religion was bound to lose it primarily political elements, just as public life was bound to lose the religious sanction of a transcendent authority. In this separation, which is a fact and, moreover, has its singular advantages for religious as well as irreligious people, there is very little likelihood that religion will be able to help us fight Communism, just as there is very little justification for interpreting this fight as a “basically religious one”.18	The political consequence of2 the secularization of the modern age, in other words4, seems to lie5 in the elimination from public life6, along with religion as such, of7 the only political element in our traditional creed, the fear of Hell. This loss is politically, though certainly not spiritually, the most significant distinction between our present life and the centuries before us. Insofar as totalitarian ideologies are an interior coercion which compels8 its subjects9 as violently as10 the external compulsion11 of terror, only |28 the fear of Hell in our own12 religious system could have hoped to compete with it in power over man’s inner souls. Yet, no matter how religious our world may turn again, or how much authentic faith still exists in it13, or how deeply our moral values may be rooted in our14 religious systems15, the fear of Hell is no longer among the motives which would prevent or stimulate the actions16 of the majority17. And this seems inevitable if secularity of the world means separation of the religious and political realms of life; under these circumstances, religion was bound to lose its primarily political elements, just as public life was bound to lose the religious sanction of a transcendent authority. In this separation, which is a fact and, moreover, has its singular advantages for religious as well as irreligious people, there is very little likelihood that religion will be able to help us fight Communism, just as there is very little justification for interpreting this fight as a “basically religious one.”18	The decisive1 political event in2 the secularization of our world, that is in3 the separation of religious and political life4, seems to me to lie5 in the fact that fear of Hell6, though it may still be strong among7 the believers of certain denominations, has lost its hold at least where public matters are concerned. This is an outstanding difference between our own and all previous ages since the early Middle Ages. Insofar as totalitarian ideologies are an interior coercion which compels8 its adherents9 as violently as10 the external compulsion11 of terror, only the fear of Hell in our own12 religious system could have hoped to compete with it in power over man’s souls. Yet, no matter how religious our world may turn again, or how much authentic faith still exists in it13, or how deeply our moral values may be rooted in traditional14 religious systems15, the fear of Hell is no longer among the motives which would prevent or stimulate the actions16 of any majority17. I think nobody who knows what is going on in totalitarian concentration and extermination camps and to what an extent the totalitarian rulers can count on the complicity of their peoples will earnestly doubt this.18	The political consequence of2 the secularization of the modern age, in other words, seems to lie in3 the elimination from public life, along with religion as such4, of the only political element5 in traditional religion , the fear of Hell. This loss is politically6, though certainly not spiritually, the most significant distinction [metamark (text connection)]between our present life and the centuries before us. No matter how religious our world may turn again, or how much authentic faith still exists in it, or how deeply our moral values may be rooted in our religious systems,7 the fear of Hell is no longer among the motives which would prevent or stimulate the actions of the majority. And this seems inevitable if secularity of the world means separation of the religious and political realms of life; under these circumstances, religion was bound to lose8 its primarily political elements, just9 as public life was bound to lose10 the religious sanction11 of a transcendent authority. This separation, is a fact and, moreover, has its singular advantages for12 religious as well as irreligious people. (Modern history has shown time and again that alliances between “throne no # but) ¶and altar” can only discredit both. But while in the past the danger chiefly consisted of using religion as a mere pretext13, thus shedding the suspicion of hypocrisy on political action as well as14 religious belief15, the danger today is infinitely greater. Confronted with a full-fledged ideology, our greatest danger is to counter it with an ideology16 of our own17. If we try to inspire public-political life once more with “religious passion” or use religion as a means of political distinctions, the result may very well be the transformation and perversion of religion into an ideology and the corruption of our fight against totalitarianism through a fanaticism which is utterly alien to the very essence of freedom.18	The political consequence of2 the secularization of the modern age, in other words, seems to lie in3 the elimination from public life, along with religion4, of the only political element5 in traditional religion, the fear of Hell. This loss is politically6, though certainly not spiritually, the most significant distinction between our present period and the centuries before. Certainly, from a viewpoint of mere usefulness, nothing could compete better with the inner coercion of totalitarian ideologies in power over man’s soul than fear of Hell. Yet, no matter how religious our world may turn again, or how much authentic faith still exists in it, or how deeply our moral values may be rooted in our religious systems,7 the fear of Hell is no longer among the motives which would prevent or stimulate the actions of the majority. This seems inevitable if secularity of the world involves separation of the religious and political realms of life; under these circumstances religion was bound to lose8 its primarily political element, just9 as public life was bound to lose10 the religious sanction11 of a transcendent authority. This separation is a fact and, moreover, has its singular advantages for12 religious as well as irreligious people. Modern history has shown time and again that alliances between “throne and altar” can only discredit both. But while in the past the danger chiefly consisted of using religion as a mere pretext13, thus investing political action as well as14 religious belief with the suspicion of hypocrisy15, the danger today is infinitely greater. Confronted with a full-fledged ideology, our greatest danger is to counter it with an ideology16 of our own17. If we try to inspire public-political life once more with “religious passion” or to use religion as a means of political distinctions, the result may very well be the transformation and perversion of religion into an ideology and the corruption of our fight against totalitarianism by a fanaticism which is utterly alien to the very essence of freedom.18
66
🞽 1. Engels reports that in Paris in the forties one used to say: “Donc, l’athéisme c’est votre religion”; he thinks because one “could con-ceive of a man without religion only as a monster.” See: “Feuerbach and the end of Classical German Philosophy.” in: Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Selected Works, London 1950, vol. II, p. 343.	🞽 1. Engels reports that in Paris in the forties one used to say: “Donc, l’athéisme c’est votre religion”; he thinks because one “could con-ceive of a man without religion only as a monster.” See: “Feuerbach and the end of Classical German Philosophy” in: Karl Marx and Freder-ick Engels, Selected Works, London 1950, vol. II, p. 343.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Engels reports that in Paris in the forties one used to say, “Donc, l’athéisme c’est votre religion,” he thinks because one “could conceive of a man without religion only as a monster.” See “Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy” in Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Selected Works (London, 1950), II, 343.
67
🞽 2. Pascal’s negative dependence upon Descartes is too well known to need further documentation.--Johannes Climacus or De Omnibus Dubi-tandum est belongs to the earliest philosophical manuscripts of Kierkegaard (winter 1842/3); written in the form of a spiritual autobiography, Kierkegaard tells us how this one sentence played a decisive role in his entire life  and that he was sorry, after learning from Hegel about Descartes, not to have started his philosophical studies with Descartes. (p.75). Following Hegel’s interpreta-tion of Descartes, he saw in it the quintessence of modern phi-losophy, its principle and beginning. The little treatise is contained in the Danish edition of Kierkegaard’s Collected Works, vol. IV, Kopenhagen 1909 ff. I used the German translation by Wolfgang Struve, Darmstadt, 1948.	🞽 2. Pascal’s negative dependence upon Descartes is too well known to need further documentation. Johannes Climacus or De Omnibus Dubitandum est belongs to the earliest philosophical manuscripts ofKierkegaard (win-ter 1842/43); Written in the form of a spiritual autobiography, Kierke-gaard tells us how this one sentence played a decisive role in his entire life and that he was sorry, after learning from Hegel about Descartes, not to have started his philosophical studies with Descartes. (p.75) Following Hegel’s interpretation of Descartes, he saw in it the quintes-sence of modern philosophy, its principle and beginning. The little treatise is contained in the Danish edition of Kierkegaard’s Collected Works, vol. IV, Kopenhagen 1909 ff. I used the German translation by Wolfgang Struve, Darmstadt, 1948.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Pascal’s negative dependence upon Descartes is too well known to need further documentation. Johannes Climacus or De omnibus dubitandum est belongs to the earliest philosophical manuscripts of Kierkegaard (winter 1842/3); writing in the form of a spiritual autobiography, Kierkegaard tells us how this one sentence played a decisive role in his entire life, and that he was sorry, after learning from Hegel about Descartes, not to have started his philosophical studies with Descartes. (p. 75) Following Hegel’s interpretation of Descartes, he saw in it the quintessence of modern philosophy, its principle and beginning. The little treatise is contained in the Danish edition of Kierkegaard’s Collected Works, vol. IV (Copenhagen, 1909). I used the German translation by Wolfgang Struve (Darmstadt, 1948).
68
🞽 3. Ibidem, p. 76.	🞽 3. Ibidem, p. 76.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Ibid., p. 76.
69
🞽 4. Pensées, 92 (370), ed. by Jacques Chevalier, La Pléiade, Paris 1950. The whole paragraph shows even more clearly how deeply Pascal’s belief was rooted in his despair about the possibilities of secure knowledge: “L’homme n’est qu’un sujet plein d’erreur, naturelle et ineffaçable sans la grâce. Rien ne lui montre la vérité. Tout l’ abuse. Ces deux principes de vérités, la raison et les sens, outre qu’ils manquent chacun de sincérité, s’abusent réciproquement l’un l’autre. Les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences; et cette même piperie qu’ils apportent à la raison, ils la reçoivent d’elle à leur tour: elle s’en revanche. Les passion de l’âme trou-blent les sens, et leur font des impressions fausses. Ils mentent et se trompent à l’envie.” Although Pascal tells us here, as else-where, that reason, too, is only a source of error, it is obvious that the chief source of error are the senses (reason only takes it revenge) in the double sense of sense-perception and sensual passion.	🞽 4. Pensées, 92 (370), ed. by Jacques Chevalier, La Pléiade, Paris 1950. The whole paragraph shows even more clearly how deeply Pascal’s belief was rooted in his despair about the possibilities of secure knowledge: “L’homme n’est qu’un sujet plein d’erreur, naturelle et ineffaçable sans la grâce. Rien ne lui montre la vérité. Tout l’abuse. Ces deux prin-cipes de vérités, la raison et les sens, outre qu’ils manquent chacun de sincérité, s’abusent réciproquement l’un l’autre. Les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences; et cette même piperie qu’ils apportent à la raison, ils la reçoivent d’elle à leur tour: elle s’en revanche. Les passion de l’âme troublent les sens, et leur font des impressions fausses. Ils mentent et se trompent à l’envie.” Although Pascal tells us here, as elsewhere, that reason, too, is only a source of error, it is obvious that the chief sources of error are the senses (reason only takes its revenge) in the double sense of sense-perception and sensual passion.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Pensées, ed. Jacques Chevalier, La Pléiade (Paris, 1950), No. 92, p. 370. The whole paragraph shows even more clearly how deeply Pascal’s belief was rooted in his despair about the possibilities of secure knowledge: “L’homme n’est qu’un sujet plein d’erreur, naturelle et ineffaçable sans la grâce. Rien ne lui montre la vérité. Tout l’abuse. Ces deux principes de vérité, la raison et les sens, outre qu’ils manquent chacun de sincérité, s’abusent réciproquement l’un l’autre. Les sens abusent la raison par de fausses apparences; et cette même piperie qu’ils apportent à la raison, ils la reçoivent d’elle à leur tour: elle s’en revanche. Les passions de l’âme troublent les sens, et leur font des impressions fausses. Ils mentent et se trompent à l’envie.” Although Pascal tells us here, as elsewhere, that reason, too, is only a source of error, it is obvious that the chief source of error is the senses (reason only “takes its revenge”) in the double sense of sense-perception and sensual passion.
70
🞽 5. Ibidem, 75 (416)	🞽 5. Ibidem, 75 (416)	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
71
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[metamark ]This loss, which sometimes may appear to us deplorable for very obvious and not very noble reasons, was inevitable as soon as the separation of the religious and political realms of life had become an accomplished fact. Under these circumstances, religion was bound to lose its primarily political elements, just as public life was bound to lose the religious sanction of a transcendent authority. In this separation which has its singular advantages for religious as well as irreligious people, there is very little likelihood that religion will be able to help us fight Communism, just as there is very little justification for interpreting this fight as basically religious.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
72
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Permit me, in conclusion, to summarize my argument: In our struggle against Communism as a totalitarian system we are not defending specifically a “religious system”, but a secular world in which free religion is possible like a great many other free human activities. Secularity means spiritually that we live in a world of doubt, and to this world belong believers and non-believers. Communism, on the other hand is not a religion; it could be |10 called a religion only if it were atheism in the sense of being an anti-religion. But this is not true; atheism is not in the center of its ideology and religious persecutions are only a marginal feature of a system that persecutes all free thought.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
73
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Ibid., No. 75, p. 416.
74
🞽 6. Descartes, Principes 5.: we must doubt everything “principalement parce que nous avons oui dire que Dieu, que nous a créés, peut faire tout ce qui lui plaît, et que nous ne savons pas encore si peut-être il n’a point voulu nous faire tels que nous soyons toujours trompés ...., car, puisqu’il a bien permis que nous nous soyons trompés quelquefois, ..., pourquoi ne pourrait-il pas permettre que nous nous trompions toujours?”	🞽 6. Descartes, Principes 5.: we must doubt everything “principalement parceque nous avons ouï dire que Dieu, que nous a créés, peut faire tout ce qui lui plaît, et que nous ne savons pas encore si peut-être il n’a point voulu nous faire tels que nous soyons toujours trompés..., car, puisqu’il a bien permis que nous nous soyons trompés quelquefois, ..., pourquoi ne pourrait-il pas permettre que nous nous trompions toujours?”	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Descartes, Principes, No. 5: We must doubt everything “principalement parce que nous avons ouï dire que Dieu, qui nous a créé, peut faire tout ce qui lui plaît, et que nous ne savons pas encore si peut-être il n’a point voulu nous faire tels que nous soyons toujours trompés..., car, puisqu’il a bien permis que nous nous soyons trompés quelquefois,..., pourquoi ne pourrait-il pas permettre que nous nous trompions toujours?”
75
🞽 7. Descartes, Discours de la Méthode, Première Partie: “Et j’avais tou-jours un extrême désir d’apprendre à distinguer le vrai d’avec le faux, pour voir clair en mes actions et marcher avec assurance en cette vie.” (my italics.)	🞽 7. Descartes, Discours de la Méthode, Première Partie: “Et j’avais toujours un extrême désir d’apprendre à distinguer le vrai d’avec le faux, pour voir clair en mes actions et marcher avec assurance en cette vie.” (my italics.)	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Descartes, Discours de la Méthode, Première Partie: “Et j’avais toujours un extrême désir d’apprendre à distinguer le vrai d’avec le faux, pour voir clair en mes actions et marcher avec assurance en cette vie.” (my italics.)
76
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Notes--2.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
77
🞽 8.  Waldemar Gurian, in his excellent brief history of Bolshevism, Notre Dame 1952, gives for his understanding of the Bolshevik-Communist movement “as a social and political secular religion” chiefly the following reason: “What believers of traditional re-ligions ascribe to God and what Christians ascribe to Jesus Christ and the Church, the Bolsheviks ascribe to the allegedly scienti-fic laws of social, political, and historical development, which ... they have formulated in the doctrine established by Marx and Engels, Lenin and Stalin. Therefore, their acceptance of these doctrinal laws ... can be characterized as a secular religion.” p. 5.	🞽 8.  Waldemar Gurian, in his excellent brief history of Bolshevism, Notre Dame 1952, gives for his understanding of the Bolshevik-Communist move-ment “as a social and political secular religion” chiefly the following reason: “What believers of traditional religions ascribe to God and what Christians ascribe to Jesus Christ and the Church, the Bolsheviks ascribe to the allegedly scientific laws of social, political, and his torical development, which...they have formulated in the doctrine estab-lished by Marx and Engels, Lenin and Stalin. Therefore, their acceptance of these doctrinal laws....can be characterized as a secular religion.” p. 5.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Waldemar Gurian, in his excellent brief history of Bolshevism (Notre Dame, 1952) gives for his understanding of the Bolshevik-Communist movement “as a social and political secular religion” chiefly the following reason: “What believers of traditional religions ascribe to God and what Christians ascribe to Jesus Christ and the Church, the Bolsheviks ascribe to the allegedly scientific laws of social, political and historical development, which ... they have formulated in the doctrine established by Marx and Engels, Lenin and Stalin. Therefore, their acceptance of these doctrinal laws ... can be characterized as a secular religion.” p. 5. Only deists, who use God as an “idea” with which to explain the course of the world, or atheists, who believe that the riddles of the world are solved by assuming that God does not exist, are guilty of this kind of secularization of traditional concepts.
78
🞽 9.  As far as I can see, the term occurred first in a definite termi-nological meaning and with respect to modern totalitarian movements in a small book by Erich Vögelin, Die Politischen Religionen, 1938, in which he himself quotes as his only predecessor Alexander Ular, Die Politik. (in the series Die Gesellschaft, edited by M. Buber, vol. 3, 1906) The latter maintains that all political authority has a religious origin and a religious nature, and that politics itself is necessarily religious. His demonstrations he derives pri-marily from primitive tribal religions; his whole argument can be summed up in the following sentence: “The medieval god of the Chri-stians is in fact nothing but a totem of monstrous dimen-sions ... The Christian is his child as the Australian native is the child of the kangorooh (Beutelschwein?).” In his early book, Voe-gelin himself still uses primarily examples from Tibetan religions as justification of his argument. Although he later abandoned this line of reasoning entirely, it is noteworthy that the term originally derived from anthropological studies, and not from an interpretation of Western tradition per se. Anthropological and tribal psychologi-cal implications of the term are still quite manifest in its use in the social sciences.	🞽 9.  As far as I can see, the term occurred first in a definite terminolo-gical meaning and with respect to modern totalitarian movements in a small book by Erich Vögelin, Die Politischen Religionen, 1938, in which he himself quotes as his only predecessor Alexander Ular, Die Politik. (in the series Die Gesellschart, edited by M. Buber, vol. 3, 1906.) The latter maintains that all political authority has a religious origin and a religious nature, and that politics itself is necessarily religious. His demonstrations he derives primarily from primitive tribal religions; his whole argument can be summed up in the following sentence: “The medieval god of the Christians is in fact nothing but a totem of monstrous dimensions...The Christian is his child as the Australian native is the child of the kangorooh (Beutelschwein?).” In his early book, Voegelin himself still uses primarily examples from Tibetan religions as justi-fications of his argument. Although he later abandoned this line of reasoning entirely, it is noteworthy that the term originally derived from anthropological studies, and not from an interpretation of Western tradition per se. Anthropological and tribal psychological implications of the term are still quite manifest in its use in the social sciences.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 As far as I can see, the term occurred first in a definite terminological meaning and with respect to modern totalitarian movements in a small book by Erich Vögelin, Die Politischen Religionen, in 1938, in which he himself quotes as his only predecessor Alexander Ular, Die Politik (in the series Die Gesellschaft, ed. M. Buber (1906), vol. III). The latter maintains that all political authority has a religious origin and a religious nature, and that politics itself is necessarily religious. His demonstrations he derives primarily from primitive tribal religions; his whole argument can be summed up in the following sentence: “The medieval god of the Christians is in fact nothing but a totem of monstrous dimensions ... The Christian is his child as the Australian native is the child of the kangaroo.” In his early book, Vögelin himself still uses primarily examples from Tibetan religions as justification for his argument. Although he later abandoned this line of reasoning entirely, it is noteworthy that the term originally derived from anthropological studies and not from an interpretation of Western tradition per se. Anthropological and tribal psychological implications of the term are still quite manifest in its use by the social sciences.
79
🞽 10.  See “The Origins of Totalitarianism” in The Review of Politics, vol. 15, No, 1, January 1953, p. 68. For the theory itself see: The New Science of Politics, Chicago 1952	🞽 10.  See “The Origins of Totalitarianism” in The Review of Politics, vol. 15, No. 1, January 1953, p. 68. For the theory itself: The New Science of Politics, Chicago 1952.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
80
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 The by far most brilliant and most thoughtful exposition is to be found in Erich Vögelin, The New Science of Politics (Chicago, 1952).
81
🞽 11.  I quote from Commonweal, vol. LVIII, no. 13, July 3, 1953, which brings extensive excerpts of an article by Guardini in the current Dublin Review, London.	🞽 11.  I quote from Commonweal, vol. LVIII, no. 13, July 3, 1953, which brings extensive excerpts of an article by Guardini in the current Dublin Rev-iew, London.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 I quite agree with Romano Guardini’s recent statement that secularity of the world, the fact that our daily public existence is “without consciousness of a divine Power,” does not “imply that individuals are becoming increasingly irreligious; but public consciousness is moving increasingly away from religious categories,” although I do not follow him to his conclusion that religion where it exists “is retiring to the ‘inner world.’” I quote from Commonweal, vol. LVIII, no. 13, July 3, 1953, which prints extensive excerpts from an article in the current Dublin Review, London.
82
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 To say that this struggle is basically religious may very well mean that we want to assert more than freedom. This, however, would be very dangerous, no matter how tolerant the definition of the more-than-freedom would turn out to be; it could very well involve us in a kind of spiritual civil war in which we would exclude from our common fight everything that is contrary to “religion.” And since in this, as in all other fields, no binding authority exists to define once and for all what is compatible and what is not, we would be at the mercy of everchanging interpretations.
83
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 “Die Deutsche Ideologie,” Introduction, Marx/Engels, Gessamtausgabe, ed. I. Feuerbach, First Section, V, 15.
84
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Das Kapital, I, chap. xxiii, 1.
85
🞽 12.  Die Deutsche Ideologie, Einleitung, I. Feuerbach. Marx/Engels Ge-samtausgabe, Erste Abteilung, Band 5, p. 15.	🞽 12.  Die Deutsche Ideologie, Einleitung, I. Feuerbach. Marx/Engels Gesamtaus-gabe, Erste Abteilung, Band 5, p. 15.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
86
🞽 13.  Das Kapital. Vol. I, chapter 23.--In the following, I use of course the word ‘ideology’ as Marx defined it, and not in accord-ance with the explanation given above.	🞽 13.  Das Kapital, vol. I, chapter 23, 1. In the following, I use of course the word “ideology” as Marx defined it, and not in accordance with the explan-ation given above.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
87
🞽 14.  Engels, op. cit. “If religion can exist without its god, alchemy can exist without its philosopher’s stone.”	🞽 14.  Engels, op. cit. “If religion can exist without its god, alchemy can exist without its philosopher’s stone.”	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Engels, op. cit., “If religion can exist without its god, alchemy can exist without its philosopher’s stone.”
88
🞽 15.  “Während im gewöhnlichen Leben jeder Shopkeeper sehr wohl zwischen Tdem zu unterscheiden weiss, was Jemand zu sein vorgibt, und dem, was er wirklich ist, so ist unsre Geschichtsschreibung noch nicht zu dieser trivialen Erkenntnis gekommen. Sie glaubt jeder Epoche aus Wort, was sie von sich selbst sagt und sich einbildet.” Deut-sche Ideologie, p. 39.--The same idea can still be found in the Pref. to the Critique of Political Economy! I, 329.	🞽 15.  “Während im gewöhnlichen Leben jeder Shopkeeper sehr wohl zwischen dem zu unterscheiden weiss, was Jemand zu sein vorgibt, und dem, was er wirklich ist, so ist unsre Geschichtsschreibung noch nicht zu dieser trivialen Erkenntnis gekommen. Sie glaubt jeder Epoche aus Wort, was sie von sich selbst sagt und sich einbildet.” Deutsche Ideologie, p. 39. The same idea occurs later in the “preface to the Critique of Political Economy.” See Selected Works, vol. I, p. 329	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
89
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Notes--3.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
90
🞽 16.  In Marx’s own words: “Die Gewalt ist der Geburtshelfer jeder alten Gesellschaft, die mit einer neuen schwanger geht. Sie selbst ist eine öknomische Potenz.” Das Kapital, ch. 24, 6. See also: “In der wirklichen Geschichte spielen bekanntlich Eroberung, Unter- jochung, Raubmord, kurz Gewalt die grosse Rolle.” ib, ch. 24 [gap] [gap]	🞽 16.  In Marx’s own words: “Die Gewalt ist der Geburtshelfer jeder alten Gesellschaft, die mit einer neuen schwanger geht. Sie selbst ist eine öknomische Potenz.” Das Kapital, ch. 24, 6. See also: “In der wirk-lichen Geschichte spielen bekanntlich Eroberung, Unterjochung, Raubmord, kurz Gewalt die grosse Rolle.” ib. ch. 24, 1.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 In Marx’s own words: “Die Gewalt ist der Geburtshelfer jeder alten Gesellschaft, die mit einer neuen schwanger geht. Sie selbst ist eine ökonomische Potenz.” Das Kapital, chap. xxiv, § 6. Also: “In der wirklichen Geschichte spielen bekanntlich Eroberung, Unterjochung, Raubmord, kurz Gewalt die grosse Rolle.” Ibid., § 1.
91
🞽 17.  Engels, op. cit., p. 354.	🞽 17.  Engels, op. cit., p. 354.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Engels, Selected Works (see note 1), p. 354.
92
🞽 18.  I quote the translation from Werner Jaeger, Paideia.	🞽 18.  I quote the translation from Werner Jaeger, Paideia.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
93
🞽 18a.  In Plato’s Gorgias, G. defending against Socrates the ususal Greek understanding of politics, says: “All action (πρᾶξις) .. is through words.” 450	🞽 18a.  In Plato’s Gorgias, Gorgias, who defends against Socrates the ususal Greek understanding of politics, says: “All action --27-- (praxis)... is through words.” 450.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
94
🞽 19.  Engels, op. cit., p. 340	🞽 19.  Engels, op. cit., p. 340.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Ibid., p. 340.
95
🞽 20.  ibidem	🞽 20.  Ibidem	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
96
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Ibid.
97
🞽 21.  Engels frequently compared Marx to Darwin, most eloquently in his “Speech at the Graveside of Karl Marx”: “Just as Darwin discovered the law of development of organic nature, so Marx discovered the law of development of human history.” In: Selected Works, vol. II, p. 153	🞽 21.  Engels frequently compared Marx to Darwin, most eloquently in his “Speech at the Graveside of Karl Marx”: “Just as Darwin discovered the law of development of organic nature, so Marx discovered the law of development of human history.” In: Selected Works, vol. II, p. 153.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Engels frequently compared Marx to Darwin, most eloquently in his “Speech at the Graveside of Karl Marx”: “Just as Darwin discovered the law of development of organic nature, so Marx discovered the law of development of human history.” Ibid., p. 153.
98
🞽 22.  An excellent example of this thoroughly confusing method is Jules Monnerot, Sociology and Psychology of Communism, Boston 1953	🞽 22.  An excellent example of this thoroughly confusing method is Jules Monnerot, Sociology and Psychology of Communism, Boston 1953.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 A good example of this thoroughly confusing method is Jules Monnerot, Sociology and Psychology of Communism (Boston, 1953).
99
🞽 23.  These two positive sciences together were supposed to comprehend not only the knowledge of all data, but also all possible substan-tial thought: “That which still survives of all earlier philoso-phy is the science of thought and its laws--formal logic and dialectics. Everything else is subsumed in the positive science of Nature and history.” Engels, “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific”, in Selected Works, vol. II, 123.--It would be worth while to show to what an extent our new disciplines of formal logic and seman-tic owe their   origin to the social sciences.	🞽 23.  These two positive sciences together were supposed to comprehend not only the knowledge of all data, but also all possible substantial thought: “That which still survives of all earlier philosophy is the science of thought and its laws--formal logic and dialectics. Everything else is subsumed in the positive science of Nature and history.” Engels, “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific,” in Selected Works, vol. II, 123. It would be worth while to show to what an extent our new disciplines of formal logic and semantic owe their origin to the social sciences.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 These two positive sciences together were supposed to comprehend not only the knowledge of all data, but also all possible substantial thought: “That which still survives of all earlier philosophy is the science of thought and its laws--formal logic and dialectics. Everything else is subsumed in the positive science of nature and history.” Engels, “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific,” in Selected Works, II, 123. It would be worth while to show to what an extent our new disciplines of formal logic and semantics owe their origin to the social sciences.
100
🞽 24.  So for instance in Hans Gerth, “The Nazi Party,” American Journal of Sociology, vol. 45, 1940	🞽 24.  So for instance in Hans Gerth, “The Nazi Party,” American Journal of Sociology, vol. 45, 1940.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 So for instance in Hans Gerth, “The Nazi Party,” American Journal of Sociology, vol. 45, 1940. By taking this example, I do not mean to imply that Max Weber himself could ever have been guilty of such monstrous identifications.
101
🞽 25.  Monnerot, op. cit. p. 124, quoting Van der Leeuw, Phénoménologie de la religion, Paris 1948, and Durkheim, De la Définition des phénomènes religieux.	🞽 25.  Monnerot, op. cit., p. 124, quoting Van der Leeuw, Phénoménologie de la religion, Paris 1948, and Durkheim, De la Définition des phénomènes religieux.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Monnerot, op. cit., p. 124, quoting Van der Leeuw, Phénoménologie de la religion, Paris 1948, and Durkheim, De la Définition des phénomènes religieux.
102
🞽 26.  Marx and Engels believed that religions are ideologies, they did not think that ideologies could simply become religions. According to Engels, “it never occurred to (the bourgeoisie) to put a new religion (sc. its own new ideology) in place of the old. Everyone lnows how Robespierre failed in his attempt.” “Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy.” Selected Works, vol II, p. 344	🞽 26.  Marx and Engels believed that religions are ideologies, they did not think that ideologies could simply become religions. According to Engels, “it never occurred to (the bourgeoisie) to put a new religion (sc. its own new ideology) in place of the old. Everyone knows how Robespierre failed in his attempt.” “Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philo-sophy.” Selected Works, vol. II, p. 344.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Marx and Engels believed that religions are ideologies, they did not think that ideologies could simply become religions. According to Engels, “it never occurred to [the bourgeoisie] to put a new religion [sc., its own new ideology] in place of the old. Everyone knows how Robespierre failed in his attempt.” “Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy,” Selected Works, II, 344.
103
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Apol. 38: nobis nulla magis res aliena quam publica.
104
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 The possible usefulness of religion for secular authority could be noticed only under conditions of complete secularity of public-political life, i.e. at the beginning of our era and in the modern age. During the Middle Ages the secular life itself had become religious and religion therefore could not become a political instrument.
105
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Notes--4.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
106
🞽 27.  Theses on Feuerbach, X: “The standpoint of the old materialism is ‘civil’ society; the standpoint of the new is human society, or socialized humanity.” Selected Works, Vol. II, p. 367.	🞽 27.  Theses on Feuerbach, X: ”The standpoint of the old materialism is ‘civil’ society; the standpoint of the new is human society, or social-ized humanity.” Selected Works, vol. II, p. 367.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
107
🞽 28.  Apol. 38	🞽 28.  Apol. 38	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
108
🞽 29.  The frequently misquoted phrase does not imply that religion was invented as an opiate for the people, but that it was used by it for such purposes.	🞽 29.  The frequently misquoted phrase does not imply that religion was invented as an opiate for the people, but that it was used by it for such purposes.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 The frequently misquoted phrase does not imply that religion was invented as an opiate for the people, but that it was used for such purposes.
109
🞽 30.  St. Luke 16, 23-31 is, as far as I know, the most explicit passage.	🞽 30.  St. Luke 16, 23-31 is, as far as I know, the most explicit passage.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 St. Luke, 16, 23-31, is, as far as I know, the most explicit passage.
110
🞽 31.  See Marcus Dodd, Forerunners of Dante, Edinburgh, 1903 and Fre-ric Huidekopper, Belief of the first three centuries concerning Christ’s Mission to the Underworld, New York 1887.	🞽 31.  See Marcus Dods, Forerunners of Dante, Edinburgh, 1903 and Frederic Huidekopper, Belief of the first three centuries concerning Christ’s Mission to the Underworld, New York, 1887.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 See Marcus Dods, Forerunners of Dante (Edinburgh, 1903) and Fredric Huidekoper, Belief of the First Three Centuries Concerning Christ’s Mission to the Underworld (New York, 1887).
111
🞽 32.  Outstanding among these are Scipio’s dream which concludes Cicero’s De Re Publica and the concluding vision in Plutarch’s Delays of Divine Justice. Compare also the sixth book of the Aeneid which is so different from the 11th book in the Odyssey.	🞽 32.  Outstanding among these are Scipio’s dream which concludes Cicero’s De Re Publica and the concluding vision in Plutarch’s Delays of Divine Justice. Compare also the sixth book of the Aeneid which is so different from the 11th book in the Odyssey.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Outstanding among these are Scipio’s dream which concludes Cicero’s De Re Publica and the concluding vision in Plutarch’s Delays of Divine Justice. Compare also the sixth book of the Aeneid, which is so different from the eleventh book in the Odyssey.
112
🞽 33.  This viewpoint is especially stressed in Marcus Dods, op. cit.	🞽 33.  This viewpoint is especially stressed in Marcus Dods, op. cit.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 This viewpoint is especially stressed in Marcus Dods, op. cit.
113
🞽 34.  See especially Republic, Book 7, 516d.	🞽 34.  See especially Republic, Book 7, 516d.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 See especially Republic, Book 7, p. 516d.
114
🞽 35.  ibidem, 374C	🞽 35.  Ibidem, 374c.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
115
🞽 36.  “The idea that there is a supreme art of measurement and that the philosopher’s knowledge of values is the ability to measure, runs through all Plato’s work right down to the end.” Werner Jaeger, Paideia, vol. II, p. 416, note 45.	🞽 36.  “The idea that there is a supreme art of measurement and that the philosopher’s knowledge of values is the ability to measure, runs through all Plato’s work right down to the end.” Werner Jaeger, Paideia, vol. II, p. 416, note 45.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 “The idea that there is a supreme art of measurement and that the philosopher’s knowledge of values is the ability to measure, runs through all Plato’s work right down to the end.” Werner Jaeger, Paideia, II, 416, note 45.
116
🞽 37.  It is characteristic of all of Plato’s dialogues on justice that some break occurs right in the discussion where the strictly argu-mentative process has to be abandoned. In the Republic, Socrates eludes his questioners several times; the baffling question is whether justice is still possible if it is hidden from men and gods. See especially the break 372 a which is taken up again in 427d where he defines wisdom and euboulia; he comes back to the main question in 430d and discusses sôphosyné. He then starts again in 433b and comes almost immediately to a discussion of the forms of government, 445d ff., until the 7th book with the cave story puts the whole argument on an entirely different, non-political level. Here it becomes clear why Glaukôn cannot receive a satis-factory answer: Justice is an idea and must be perceived; that is the only possible demonstration.	🞽 37.  It is characteristic of all of Plato’s dialogues on justice that some break occurs right in the discussion where the strictly argumentative process has to be abandoned. In the Republic, Socrates eludes his ques-tioners several times; the baffling question is whether justice is still possible if it is hidden from men and gods. See especially the break 372a which is taken up again in 427d where he defines wisdom and euboulia; he comes back to the main question in 430d and discusses sôphosyné. He then starts again in 433b and comes almost immediately to a discussion of the forms of government, 445d ff., until the 7th book with the cave story puts the whole argument on an entirely different, non-political level. Here it becomes clear why Glaukôn cannot receive a satisfactory answer: Justice is an idea and must be perceived; that is the only possible demon-stration.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 It is characteristic of all of Plato’s dialogues on justice that a break occurs somewhere and the strictly argumentative process has to be abandoned. In the Republic, Socrates eludes his questioners several times; the baffling question is whether justice is still possible if it is hidden from men and gods. See especially the break 372a which is taken up again in 427d where he defines wisdom and euboulia; he comes back to the main question in 430d and discusses sôphyosyné. He then starts again in 433b and comes almost immediately to a discussion of the forms of government, 445dff., until the 7th book with the cave story puts the whole argument on an entirely different, non-political level. Here it becomes clear why Glaukôn cannot receive a satisfactory answer: justice is an idea and must be perceived; that is the only possible demonstration.
117
🞽 37a.  Plato was aware of this difficulty. See Gorgias, 524	🞽 37a.  Plato was aware of this difficulty. See Gorgias, 524.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
118
🞽 38.  See especially Gorgias,  452-453, where dialegesthai eutos autô is con-fronted with Gorgias’ art of persuasion, or rhetoric, as πείθειν τὰ πλήθη.	🞽 38.  See especially Gorgias, 452-453, where dialegesthai autos autô is con-fronted with Gorgias’ art of persuasion or rhetoric, as peithein ta phlété.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
119
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Notes--5.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
120
🞽 39.  F.M. Cornford, Principium Sapientiae. The Origins of Greek Philo-phical Thought, Cambridge 1952, p. 69.	🞽 39.  F.M. Cornford, Principium Sapientiae. The Origins of Greek Philoso-phical Thought, Cambridge, 1952, p. 69.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
121
🞽 40.  Socrates knows already 506 that he cannot persuade Kalliklés, who 513 says that he is not much convinced. About Plato’s diffidence see the introduction to the description of Hell 523: Socrates tells is “as though it were true”.-In Phaidon, 113-4, at the beginning of the description of Hell, Socrates mentions explicitely that one could not vouchsafe for the truth of the myth, but that it it is good to tell and fascinate oneself (epadein) with stories of this kind.	🞽 40.  Socrates knows already 506 that he cannot persuade Kalliklés, who 513 says that he is not much convinced. About Plato’s diffidence see the introduction to the description of Hell 523: Socrates tells it “as though it were true”. In Phaidon, 113-4, at the beginning of the description of Hell, Socrates mentions explicitely that one could not vouchsafe for the truth of the myth, but that it is is good to tell and fascinate oneself (epadein) with stories of this kind.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
122
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 The clearest proof for the political character of Plato’s myths of a hereafter is that they, insofar as they imply bodily punishment, are in flagrant contradition to his theory of the mortality of the body and the immortality of the soul. Plato, moreover, was quite aware of this inconsistency. See: Gorgias, 524.
123
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Republic, p. 374c.
124
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 This is also obvious from the concluding myths in Phaidon and Gorgias, which do not contain allegories, like the cave story, in which the philosopher tells the truth. Phaidon deals primarily not with the soul’s immortality, but is a “revised Apology ‘more persuasive than the speech (Socrates) made in (his) defense before the judges.’” (F. M. Cornford, Principium Sapientiae. The Origins of Greek Philosophical Thought (Cambridge, 1952) p. 69.) Gorgias which shows the impossibility to “prove” that it is better to suffer wrong than to do wrong tells the myth at the end as a kind of ultima ratio, with great diffidence and clearly indicating that Socrates himself does not take it too seriously. Republic, p. 374c.
125
🞽 41.  Marcus Dods, op. cit. p. 41	🞽 41.  Marcus Dods, op. cit., p. 41.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Marcus Dods, op. cit., p. 41.
126
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 Christian writers during the first centuries unanimously believed in a mission of Christ to the Underworld whose main purpose had been to liquidate Hell, defeat Satan, and liberate the souls of dead sinners as he had liberated the souls of Christians, from death as well as punishment. The only exception was Tertullian. See Huidekoper, op. cit.
127
🞽 42.  The only exception was Tertullian. See Huidekoper, op. cit.	🞽 42.  The only exception was Tertullian. See Huidekoper, op, cit.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
128
🞽 43.  The longing for death was a frequent motive in Hebrew visions of Hell. See Dods, op. cit. p. 107 ff.	🞽 43.  The longing for death was a frequent motive in Hebrew visions of Hell. See Dods, op. cit., p. 107 ff.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	🞽 The longing for death was a frequent motive in Hebrew visions of Hell. See Dods, op. cit., p.107ff.
129
🞽 44.  Characteristic is the repetition in Cicero’s Dream of Scipio where all “beliefs” are introduced with a Sic habeto, the implication being: it will be good for the res publica if you believe this to be true. The resemblance of this attitude with Plato’s expressed in the epadein is striking.	🞽 44.  Characteristic is the repetition in Cicero’s Dream of Scipio where all “beliefs” are introduced with a Sic habeto, the implication being: it will be good for the res publica if you believe this to be true. The resemblance of this attitude with Plato’s expressed in the epadein is striking.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
130
🞽 45.  See Dods, op. cit. 272.	🞽 45.  See Dods, op. cit., 272.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
131
And this is the medieval doctrine of Hell which is much older than Christianity and first appears in Plato’s dialogues where it had a purely political function. Throughout antiquity, it continued to be used for political purposes, while even during the first centuries of our era it played no noticeable role in Christianity. Only when in the early Middle Ages political necessities confronted the Church, as it had ancient philosophy since Plato, with the old perplexity of enforcing absolute standards	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
132
or, to put it the other way round, which is the specifically political element in traditional religion.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
133
Secularism1, first2, has a political as well as a spiritual meaning3. In a4 political fight,5 its political meaning obviously is6 of greater importance. Politically7, secularism means no more than that religious creeds and8 religious institutions9 as such have no binding authority10 and that, conversely, political life has no11 religious sanction12.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Secularity1, politically2, means the separation of the public-political and the religious spheres of life3. The consequence of it has been that our4 political life lost5 its religious sanctions, the sanction6 of secular authority , and that conversely religion lost its one powerful political element7, the fear of Hell. The result is that8 religious beliefs9 as such have become a-political10 and that we in our concern for public-political issues have lost all right to claim more than secular interests. Even the fight for freedom of religion is in itself not a11 religious, but a public-secular fight12.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
134
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The real danger to our world of freedom arises from the functionalization and “socialization” of man of which the approach of the social sciences which identify functions with essences and substance is a clear symptom. The desubstantialization of concepts which permits to call every system of thought a “religion” without paying attention to what this thought actually is about, tends to deprive man of the relevance of speech and to degrade all words to “mere talk” or mere means of communication. To conceive of “religions without God” may help to bring the word religion back into circulation among people who, up to recent times, refused to use it. It will certainly destroy that ultimate question and concern of man with regard to God which is the substance of all religious thought. Freedom, though it never can recognize answers to the ultimate questions of man as definitely binding loses itself all meaning if these questions are no longer asked and taken seriously ever and ever again.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
135
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	The question is: Free World against what? Atheism ? 1) How ab. Socialism.Yougoslavia is the [gap] conflict only power- conflict? [metamark ]3) Hell: only. [[gap] a pattern of behaviour political for all [gap] Marx: not law of matter but of metabolism with nature or matter marxist poison Social implications of religion very far reaching--?? 2) but wholly ineffective - because Christian charity [gap] adorable industrial Revolution - 4) Idiot - [gap], might, magic, ideology - [metamark |] isms = every system of thought one idea = premise.= façade, 5) Free Society for the sake of Peace does not discuss ultimate questions - - Religious instructions - allied with materialism [gap]. [gap] [gap] This a very dangerous alliance. 6) Question of Freedom not identical with Freedom for all, and not even with separation: Because we don’t want to render unto Caesar but to handle our affairs.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
136
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	Rests on equation of religion with metaphysics and of metaphysics with ideologies:	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
137
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	1. Ideologies not about ultimate questions, but assumes that man is not a question asking being.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
138
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	2. Metaphysics not equal to theology in that theology explains the answers which religion gives to ultimate questions. Theology of Plato and Aristoteles not the same as what we call theology. They assumed that the logoi of man could explore the nature of divinity, whereas Christian-Jewish theology assumes that only the Word of God reveals to man religious truth.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
139
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	3 Difference between belief and faith: “Thy will be done” means for belief that men ought to do God’s will, for faith that God’s will is done. Belief has become doxa--dokei moi: Soi men tauta dokount’ estō, emoi de tade: means my particular aspect of world, that what and how it appears to me--but always in my particularity. Belief as doxa is the particular answer to ultimate questions. Faith: trust on the background of which radical questions are possible, the opposite is Descartes’ evil spirit which may fool us. Opposite of faith is suspicion, mistrust. Opposite of belief is doubt.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
140
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	4. Pluralism and our shunning of ultimate questions: Pluralism assumes that there are ultimate questions but no final answers, only particular answers. Danger always: no ultimate questions. But danger of religious answers also that the sense of questioning is killed.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
141
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	5. Freedom: Greek concept not only freedom from slavery, but identical with life in polis which in turn is identical with logon echon, i.e. Greek freedom meant that all activities went on in the mode of speech. Therefore the barbar the man who did not really talk and who was not free.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
142
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	6. Religion - society: Society a “by-product of religion”: ergo something which for religion is secondary.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
143
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	7. “The free world for the sake of peace refuses to discuss ultimates.” The free world for the sake of freedom refuses to decide ultimate questions. If it would decide them, it would become tyranny; if it prevents us from raising them, it becomes something worse than tyranny, totalitarianism.	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
144
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[metamark —————————————————————] Comm & comm: 1. Opinions among opinions 2. Totalitarianism The debate is over? He understands us? [metamark ]Every human question is religious. [metamark —————————————————————————————————————————]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]
145
[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	χρόνος Κρόνος τίς γάρ, τίς ἀνὴρ πλέον τᾶς εὐδαιμονίας φέρει ἢ τοσοῦτον ὅσον δοκεῖ καὶ δόξαντ’ ἀποκλιναι; Ideology – might – magic secular, [gap] formula – religion. Minority - but what a Communism: minority. Revolutionary moved moderation Essence of freedom is doubt! Neither religion nor doubt is enough. Ferguson & Adam Smith - Aristoteles - Political system emphasis on affirmation. secular - spiritual Political Behavior:	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]	[keine Entsprechung vorhanden]