PROBLEMS OF THE ARABIAN CULTURE
(A)
HISTORIC PSEUDOMORPHOSES
I
In a rock-stratum are embedded crystals of a mineral. Clefts and
cracks occur, water filters in, and the crystals are gradually washed
out so that in due course only their hollow mould remains. Then come
volcanic outbursts which explode the mountain; molten masses pour in,
stiffen, and crystallize out in their turn. But these are not free to
do so in their own special forms. They must fill up the spaces that
they find available. Thus there arise distorted forms, crystals whose
inner structure contradicts their external shape, stones of one kind
presenting the appearance of stones of another kind. The mineralogists
call this phenomenon _Pseudomorphosis_.
By the term “historical pseudomorphosis” I propose to designate those
cases in which an older alien Culture lies so massively over the land
that a young Culture, born in this land, cannot get its breath and
fails not only to achieve pure and specific expression-forms, but even
to develop fully its own self-consciousness. All that wells up from
the depths of the young soul is cast in the old moulds, young feelings
stiffen in senile works, and instead of rearing itself up in its own
creative power, it can only hate the distant power with a hate that
grows to be monstrous.
This is the case of the Arabian Culture. Its pre-history lies entirely
within the ambit of the ancient Babylonian Civilization,[277] which
for two thousand years had been the prey of successive conquerors. Its
“Merovingian period” is marked by the dictatorship of a small[278]
Persian clan, primitive as the Ostrogoths, whose domination of two
hundred years, scarcely challenged, was founded on the infinite
weariness of a fellah-world. But from 300 B.C. onwards there begins
and spreads a great awakening in the young Aramaic-speaking[279]
peoples between Sinai and the Zagros range. As at the epoch of the
Trojan War and at that of the Saxon emperors, a new relation of
man to God, a wholly new world-feeling, penetrated all the current
religions, whether these bore the name of Ahuramazda, Baal, or Yahweh,
impelling everywhere to a great effort of creation. But precisely at
this juncture there came the Macedonians--so appositely that some
inner connexion is not altogether impossible, for the Persian power
had rested on spiritual postulates, and it was precisely these that
had disappeared. To Babylon these Macedonians appeared as yet another
swarm of adventurers like the rest. They laid down a thin sheet of
Classical Civilization over the lands as far as Turkestan and India.
The kingdoms of the Diadochi might indeed have become, insensibly,
states of pre-Arabian spirit--the Seleucid Empire, which actually
coincided geographically with the region of Aramaic speech, was in fact
such a state by 200 B.C. But from the battle of Pydna[280] onwards
it was, in its western part, more and more embodied in the Classical
Imperium and so subjected to the powerful workings of a spirit which
had its centre of gravity in a distant region. And thus was prepared
the Pseudomorphosis.
The Magian Culture, geographically and historically, is the midmost
of the group of higher Cultures--the only one which, in point both
of space and of time, was in touch with practically all others. The
structure of its history as a whole in our world-picture depends,
therefore, entirely on our recognizing the true inner form which the
outer moulds distorted. Unhappily, that is just what we do not yet
know, thanks to theological and philological prepossessions, and
even more to the modern tendency of over-specialization which has
unreasonably subdivided Western research into a number of separate
branches--each distinguished from the others not merely by its
materials and its methods, but by its very way of thinking--and so
prevented the big problems from being even seen. In this instance the
consequences of specialization have been graver perhaps than in any
other. The historians proper stayed within the domain of Classical
philology and made the Classical language-frontier their eastern
horizon; hence they entirely failed to perceive the deep unity of
development on both sides of their frontier, which spiritually had no
existence. The result is a perspective of “Ancient,” “Mediæval,” and
“Modern” history, ordered and defined by the use of the Greek and Latin
languages. For the experts of the old languages, with their “texts,”
Axum, Saba, and even the realm of the Sassanids were unattackable,
and the consequence is that in “history” these scarcely exist at all.
The literature-researcher (he also a philologist) confuses the spirit
of the language with the spirit of the work. Products of the Aramæan
region, if they happen to be written in Greek or even merely preserved
in Greek, he embodies in his “Late Greek literature” and proceeds to
classify as a special period of that literature. The cognate texts
in other languages are outside his department and have been brought
into other groups of literature in the same artificial way. And yet
here was the strongest of all proofs that the history of a literature
never coincides with the history of a language.[281] Here, in reality,
was a self-contained ensemble of Magian national literature, single
in spirit, but written in several languages--the Classical amongst
others. For a nation of Magian type has no mother tongue. There are
Talmudic, Manichæan, Nestorian, Jewish, or even Neopythagorean national
literatures, but _not_ Hellenistic or Hebrew.
Theological research, in its turn, broke up its domain into
subdivisions according to the different West-European confessions,
and so the “philological” frontier between West and East came into
force, and still is in force, for Christian theology also. The Persian
world fell to the student of Iranian philology, and as the Avesta
texts were disseminated, though not composed, in an Aryan dialect,
their immense problem[282] came to be regarded as a minor branch of
the Indologist’s work and so disappeared absolutely from the field
of vision of Christian theology. And lastly the history of Talmudic
Judaism, since Hebrew philology became bound up in one specialism with
Old Testament research, not only never obtained separate treatment, but
has been _completely forgotten_ by all the major histories of religions
with which I am acquainted, although these find room for every Indian
sect (since folk-lore, too, ranks as a specialism) and every primitive
Negro religion to boot. Such is the preparation of scholarship for the
greatest task that historical research has to face to-day.
II
The Roman world of the Imperial period had a good idea of its own
state. The later writers are full of complaints concerning the
depopulation and spiritual emptiness of Africa, Spain, Gaul, and, above
all, the mother countries Italy and Greece. But those provinces which
belong to the Magian world are consistently excepted in these mournful
surveys. Syria in particular is densely peopled and, like Parthian
Mesopotamia, flourishes in blood and spirit.
The preponderance of the young East, palpable to all, had sooner
or later to find political expression also. Viewing the scene from
this standpoint, we see behind the epic and pageant of Marius and
Sulla, Cæsar and Pompey, Antony and Octavian, this East striving ever
more intensely to free itself from the historically dying West, the
fellah-world waking up. The transfer of the capital to Byzantium was a
great symbol. Diocletian had selected Nicodemia; Cesar had had thoughts
of Alexandria or Troy. A better choice than any would have been
Antioch. But the act came too late by three centuries, and these had
been the decisive period of the Magian Springtime.
The Pseudomorphosis began with Actium; there _it should have been
Antony who won_. It was not the struggle of Rome and Greece that came
there to an issue--that struggle had been fought out at Cannæ and Zama,
where it was the tragic fate of Hannibal to stand as champion not for
his own land, but for Hellenism. At Actium it was the unborn Arabian
Culture that was opposed to iron-grey Classical Civilization; the
issue lay between Principate and Caliphate. Antony’s victory would have
freed the Magian soul; his defeat drew over its lands the hard sheet of
Roman _Imperium_. A comparable event in the history of the West is the
battle between Tours and Poitiers, A.D. 732. Had the Arabs won it and
made “Frankistan” into a caliphate of the North-east, Arabic speech,
religion, and customs would have become familiar to the ruling classes,
giant cities like Granada and Kairawan would have arisen on the Loire
and the Rhine, the Gothic feeling would have been forced to find
expression in the long-stiffened forms of Mosque and Arabesque, and
instead of the German mysticism we should have had a sort of Sufism.
That the equivalent of these things actually happened to the Arabian
world was due to the fact that the Syro-Persian peoples produced no
Charles Martel to battle along with Mithradates or Brutus and Cassius
or Antony (or for that matter without them) against Rome.
A second pseudomorphosis is presented to our eyes to-day in Russia. The
Russian hero-tales of the Bylini culminated in the epic cycle of Prince
Vladimir of Kiev (_c._ A.D. 1000), with his Round Table, and in the
popular hero Ilya Muromyets.[283] The whole immense difference between
the Russian and the Faustian soul is already revealed in the contrast
of these with the “contemporary” Arthur, Ermanarich, and Nibelungen
sagas of the Migration-period in the form of the _Hildebrandslied_
and the _Waltharilied_.[284] The Russian “Merovingian” period begins
with the overthrow of the Tatar domination by Ivan III (1480) and
passes, by the last princes of the House of Rurik and the first of the
Romanovs, to Peter the Great (1689-1725). It corresponds exactly to
the period between Clovis (481-511) and the battle of Testry (687),
which effectively gave the Carolingians their supremacy. I advise all
readers to read the Frankish history of Gregory of Tours (to 591)
in parallel with the corresponding parts of Karamzin’s patriarchal
narrative, especially those dealing with Ivan the Terrible, and with
Boris Godunov and Vassili Shuiski.[285] There could hardly be a closer
parallel. This Muscovite period of the great Boyar families and
Patriarchs, in which a constant element is the resistance of an Old
Russia party to the friends of Western Culture, is followed, from the
founding of Petersburg in 1703, by the pseudomorphosis which forced the
primitive Russian soul into the alien mould, first of full Baroque,
then of the Enlightenment, and then of the nineteenth century. The
fate-figure in Russian history is Peter the Great, with whom we may
compare the Charlemagne who deliberately and with all his might strove
to impose the very thing which Charles Martel had just prevented, the
rule of the Moorish-Byzantine spirit. The possibility was there of
treating the Russian world in the manner of a Carolingian or that of
Seleucid--that is, of choosing between Old Russian and “Western” ways,
and the Romanovs chose the latter. The Seleucids liked to see Hellenes
and not Aramæans about them. The primitive tsarism of Moscow is the
only form which is even to-day appropriate to the Russian world, but
in Petersburg it was distorted to the dynastic form of western Europe.
The pull of the sacred South--of Byzantium and Jerusalem--strong in
every Orthodox soul, was twisted by the worldly diplomacy which set
its face to the West. The burning of Moscow, that mighty symbolic act
of a primitive people, that expression of Maccabæan hatred of the
foreigner and heretic, was followed by the entry of Alexander I into
Paris, the Holy Alliance, and the concert of the Great Powers of the
West. And thus a nationality whose destiny should have been to live
without a history for some generations still was forced into a false
and artificial history that the soul of Old Russia was simply incapable
of understanding. Late-period arts and sciences, enlightenment, social
ethics, the materialism of world-cities, were introduced, although
in this pre-cultural time religion was the only language in which
man understood himself and the world. In the townless land with its
primitive peasantry, cities of alien type fixed themselves like
ulcers--false, unnatural, unconvincing. “Petersburg,” says Dostoyevski,
“is the most abstract and artificial city in the world.” Born in it
though he was, he had the feeling that one day it might vanish with
the morning mist. Just so ghostly, so incredible, were the Hellenistic
artifact-cities scattered in the Aramaic peasant-lands. Jesus in his
Galilee knew this. St. Peter must have felt it when he set eyes on
Imperial Rome.
After this everything that arose around it was felt by the true Russdom
as lies and poison. A truly apocalyptic hatred was directed on Europe,
and “Europe” was all that was not Russia, including Athens and Rome,
just as for the Magian world in its time Old Egypt and Babylon had
been antique, pagan, devilish. “The first condition of emancipation
for the Russian soul,” wrote Aksakov in 1863 to Dostoyevski, “is that
it should hate Petersburg with all its might and all its soul.” Moscow
is holy, Petersburg Satanic. A widespread popular legend presents
Peter the Great as Antichrist. Just so the Aramaic Pseudomorphosis
cries out in all the Apocalypses from Daniel and Enoch in Maccabæan
times to John, Baruch, and Ezra IV after the destruction of Jerusalem,
against Antiochus the Antichrist, against Rome the Whore of Babylon,
against the cities of the West with their refinement and their
splendour, against the whole Classical Culture. All its works are
untrue and unclean; the polite society, the clever artistry, the
classes, the alien state with its civilized diplomacy, justice, and
administration. The contrast between Russian and Western, Jew-Christian
and Late-Classical nihilisms is extreme--the one kind is hatred of the
alien that is poisoning the unborn Culture in the womb of the land, the
other a surfeited disgust of one’s own proper overgrowths. Depths of
religious feeling, flashes of revelation, shuddering fear of the great
awakening, metaphysical dreaming and yearning, belong to the beginning,
as the pain of spiritual clarity belongs to the end of a history. In
these pseudomorphoses they are mingled. Says Dostoyevski: “Everyone in
street and market-place now speculates about the nature of Faith.” So
might it have been said of Edessa or Jerusalem. Those young Russians
of the days before 1914--dirty, pale, exalted, moping in corners, ever
absorbed in metaphysics, seeing all things with an eye of faith even
when the ostensible topic is the franchise, chemistry, or women’s
education--are the Jews and early Christians of the Hellenistic cities,
whom the Romans regarded with a mixture of surly amusement and secret
fear. In Tsarist Russia there was no bourgeoisie and, in general, no
true class-system, but merely, as in the Frankish dominions, lord and
peasant. There were no Russian towns. Moscow consisted of a fortified
residency (the Kreml) round which was spread a gigantic market. The
imitation city that grew up and ringed it in, like every other city on
the soil of Mother Russia, is there for the satisfaction and utilities
of the Court, the administration, the traders, but that which lives in
it is, on the top, an embodiment of fiction, an Intelligentsia bent on
discovering problems and conflicts, and below, an uprooted peasantry,
with all the metaphysical gloom, anxiety, and misery of their own
Dostoyevski, perpetually homesick for the open land and bitterly hating
the stony grey world into which Antichrist has tempted them. Moscow had
no proper soul. The spirit of the upper classes was Western, and the
lower had brought in with them the soul of the countryside. Between the
two worlds there was no reciprocal comprehension, no communication,
no charity. To understand the two spokesmen and victims of the
pseudomorphosis, it is enough that Dostoyevski is the peasant, and
Tolstoi the man of Western society. The one could never in his soul get
away from the land; the other, in spite of his desperate efforts, could
never get near it.
_Tolstoi is the former Russia, Dostoyevski the coming Russia._ The
inner Tolstoi is tied to the West. He is the great spokesman of
Petrinism even when he is denying it. The West is never without a
negative--the guillotine, too, was a true daughter of Versailles--and
rage as he might against Europe, Tolstoi could never shake it off.
Hating it, he hates himself and so becomes the father of Bolshevism.
The utter powerlessness of this spirit, and “its” 1917 revolution,
stands confessed in his posthumously published _A Light Shines in the
Darkness_. This hatred Dostoyevski does not know. His passionate power
of living is comprehensive enough to embrace all things Western as
well--“I have two fatherlands, Russia and Europe.” He has passed beyond
both Petrinism and revolution, and from _his_ future he looks back over
them as from afar. His soul is apocalyptic, yearning, desperate, but of
this future _certain_. “I will go to Europe,” says Ivan Karamazov to
his brother, Alyosha; “I know well enough that I shall be going only to
a churchyard, but I know too that that churchyard is dear, very dear
to me. Beloved dead lie buried there, every stone over them tells of a
life so ardently lived, so passionate a belief in its own achievements,
its own truth, its own battle, its own knowledge, that I know--even
now I know--I shall fall down and kiss these stones and weep over
them.” Tolstoi, on the contrary, is essentially a great understanding,
“enlightened” and “socially minded.” All that he sees about him takes
the Late-period, megalopolitan, and Western form of a _problem_,
whereas Dostoyevski does not even know what a problem is. Tolstoi is
an event within and of Western Civilization. He stands midway between
Peter and Bolshevism, and neither he nor these managed to get within
sight of Russian earth. The thing they are fighting against reappears,
recognizable, in the very form in which they fight. Their kind of
opposition is not apocalyptic but intellectual. Tolstoi’s hatred of
property is an economist’s, his hatred of society a social reformer’s,
his hatred of the State a political theorist’s. Hence his immense
effect upon the West--he belongs, in one respect as in another, to the
band of Marx, Ibsen, and Zola.
Dostoyevski, on the contrary, belongs to no band, unless it be the band
of the Apostles of primitive Christianity. His “Dæmons” were denounced
by the Russian Intelligentsia as reactionaries. But he himself was
quite unconscious of such conflicts--“conservative” and “revolutionary”
were terms of the West that left him indifferent. Such a soul as his
can look beyond everything that we call social, for the things of
this world seem to it so unimportant as not to be worth improving. No
genuine religion aims at improving the world of facts, and Dostoyevski,
like every primitive Russian, is fundamentally unaware of that world
and lives in a second, metaphysical world beyond. What has the agony of
a soul to do with Communism? A religion that has got as far as taking
social problems in hand has ceased to be a religion. But the reality in
which Dostoyevski lives, even during this life, is a religious creation
directly present to him. His Alyosha has defied all literary criticism,
even Russian. His life of Christ, had he written it--as he always
intended to do--would have been a genuine gospel like the Gospels of
primitive Christianity, which stand completely outside Classical and
Jewish literary forms. Tolstoi, on the other hand, is a master of the
Western novel--_Anna Karenina_ distances every rival--and even in his
peasant’s garb remains a man of polite society.
Here we have beginning and end clashing together. Dostoyevski is a
saint, Tolstoi only a revolutionary. From Tolstoi, the true successor
of Peter, and from him only, proceeds Bolshevism, which is not the
contrary, but the final issue of Petrinism, the last dishonouring of
the metaphysical by the social, and _ipso facto_ a new form of the
Pseudomorphosis. If the building of Petersburg was the first act
of Antichrist, the self-destruction of the society formed of that
Petersburg is the second, and so the peasant soul must feel it. For the
Bolshevists are not the nation, or even a part of it, but the lowest
stratum of this Petrine society, alien and western like the other
strata, yet not recognized by these and consequently filled with the
hate of the downtrodden. It is all megalopolitan and “Civilized”--the
social politics, the Intelligentsia, the literature that first in
the romantic and then in the economic jargon champions freedoms and
reforms, before an audience that itself belongs to the society. The
real Russian is a disciple of Dostoyevski. Although he may not have
read Dostoyevski or anyone else, nay, perhaps _because_ he cannot read,
he is himself Dostoyevski in substance; and if the Bolshevists, who
see in Christ a mere social revolutionist like themselves, were not
intellectually so narrowed, it would be in Dostoyevski that they would
recognize their prime enemy. What gave this revolution its momentum
was not the intelligentsia’s hatred. It was the people itself, which,
_without hatred_, urged only by the need of throwing off a disease,
destroyed the old Westernism in one effort of upheaval, and will send
the new after it in another. For what this townless people yearns for
is its own life-form, its own religion, its own history. Tolstoi’s
Christianity was a misunderstanding. He spoke of Christ and he meant
Marx. But to Dostoyevski’s Christianity the next thousand years will
belong.
III
Outside the Pseudomorphosis, and the more vigorously in proportion
as the Classical influence is weaker over the country, there spring
up all the forms of a genuine feudal age. Scholasticism, mysticism,
feudal fealty, minstrelsy, the crusade spirit, all existed in the first
centuries of the Arabian Culture and will be found in it as soon as
we know how to look for them. The legion existed in name even after
Septimius Severus, but in the East, legions look for all the world like
ducal retinues. Officials are nominated, but what nomination amounts
to in reality is the investiture of a count with his fief. While in
the West the Cæsar-title fell into the hands of chieftains, the East
transformed itself into an early Caliphate amazingly like the feudal
state of mature Gothic. In the Sassanid Empire,[286] in Hauran,[287]
in southern Arabia, there dawned a pure feudal period. The exploits of
a king of Saba,[288] Shamir Juharish, are immortalized like those of
a Roland or an Arthur, in the Arabic saga which tells of his advance
through Persia as far as China.[289] The Kingdom of Ma’in[290] existed
side by side with the realm of Israel during the millennium before
Christ, and its remains (which suggest comparisons with Mycenæ and
Tiryns) extend deeply into Africa.[291] But now the feudal age flowered
throughout Arabia and even in the mountains of Abyssinia.[292] In Axum
there arose during early Christian times mighty castles and kings’
tombs with the largest monoliths in the world.[293] Behind the kings
stands a feudal nobility of counts (_kail_) and wardens (_kabir_),
vassals of often questionable loyalty whose great possessions more
and more narrowed the power of the king and his household. The
endless Christian-Jewish wars between south Arabia and the kingdom
of Axum[294] have essentially the character of chivalry-warfare,
frequently degenerating into baronial feuds based on the castles. In
Saba ruled the Hamdanids--who later became Christian. Behind them stood
the Christian realm of Axum, in alliance with Rome, which about A.D.
300 stretched from the White Nile to the Somali coast and the Persian
Gulf, and in 525 overthrew the Jewish-Himaryites.[295] In 542 there
was a diet of princes at Marib[296] to which both the Roman and the
Sassanid Empires sent ambassadors. Even to-day the country is full
of innumerable relics of mighty castles, which in Islamic times were
popularly attributed to supernatural builders. The stronghold of Gomdan
is a work of twenty tiers.[297]
In the Sassanid Empire ruled the Dikhans, or local lords, while the
brilliant court of these early-Eastern “Hohenstaufen” was in every
respect a model for that of the Byzantines who followed Diocletian.
Even much later the Abbassids in their new capital of Baghdad could
think of nothing better than to imitate, on a grand scale, the
Sassanid ideal of court life. In northern Arabia, at the courts of
the Ghassanids[298] and at those of the Lakhmids,[299] there sprang up
a genuine troubadour and _Minne_ poetry; and knightly poets, in the
days of the Early Fathers, fought out their duels with “word, lance,
and sword.” One of them was the Jew Samuel, lord of the castle of Al
Alblaq, who stood a famous siege by the King of Hira for the sake of
five precious suits of armour.[300] In relation to this lyric poetry,
the Late-Arabic which flourished, especially in Spain, from 800 stands
as Uhland and Eichendorff stand to Walter von der Vogelweide.
For this young world of the first centuries of our era our antiquarians
and theologians have had no eyes. Busied as they are with the state
of Late Republican and Imperial Rome, the conditions of the Middle
East seem to them merely primitive and void of all significance. But
the Parthian bands that again and again rode at the legions of Rome
were a chivalry exalted by Mazdaism; in their armies there was the
spirit of crusade. So, too, might it have been with Christianity if
it had not been wholly bound under the power of the pseudomorphosis.
The spirit was there--Tertullian spoke of the “_militia Christi_,”
and the sacrament was the soldier’s oath of fidelity.[301] But it was
only later that Christ became the hero for whom his vassals went out
against the heathen; for the time being, the hither side of the Roman
frontier knew not Christian lords and knights, but only Roman legates;
not the castle, but the _castra_; not tournaments, but executions. Yet
in spite of all this it was not, strictly speaking, a Parthian war, but
a true crusade of Jewry that blazed out in 115 when Trajan marched into
the East, and it was as a reprisal for the destruction of Jerusalem
that the whole infidel (“Greek”) population of Cyprus--traditionally
240,000 souls--was massacred.[302] Nisibis, defended by Jews, made an
illustrious resistance. Warlike Adiabene (the upper Tigris plain) was
a Jewish state. In all the Parthian and Persian wars against Rome the
gentry and peasantry, the feudal levy, of Jewish Mesopotamia fought in
the front line.
Byzantium, even, was not able entirely to evade the influence of the
Arabian feudal age, and, under a crust of Late Classical administrative
forms, the fief system (especially in the interior of Asia Minor)
came into existence. There there were powerful families whose loyalty
was doubtful and whose ambition was to possess the Imperial throne.
“Originally tied to the capital, which they were not allowed to leave
without the Emperor’s permission, this nobility settled down later on
its broad estates in the provinces. From the fourth century onwards
this provincial nobility was _de facto_ an ‘Estate of the realm,’
and in course of time it claimed a certain independence of Imperial
control.”[303]
The “Roman Army” in the East, meanwhile, was transformed in less than
two centuries from an army of modern type to one of the feudal order.
The Roman legion disappeared in the reorganization of the age of
Severus,[304] about A.D. 200. While in the West the army degenerated
into hordes, in the East there arose, in the fourth century a genuine,
if belated, knighthood--a fact that Mommsen long ago pointed out,
without, however, seeing the significance of it.[305] The young noble
received a thorough education in single combat, horsemanship, use
of bow and lance. About A.D. 260 the Emperor Gallienus--the friend
of Plotinus and the builder of the Porta Nigra of Trier, one of the
most striking and most unfortunate figures of the period of the
soldier-emperors--formed, from Germans and Moors, a new type of mounted
force, the personal military suite.[306] A significant light is thrown
upon the changes by the fact that the old city-gods give way, in the
religion of the army, to the German gods of personal heroism, under
the labels of Mars and Hercules.[307] Diocletian’s _palatini_ are not
a substitute for the prætorians abolished by Septimius Severus, but
a small, well-disciplined knight-army, while the _comitatenses_, the
general levy, are organized in “_numeri_” or companies. The tactics
are those of every Early period, with its pride of personal courage.
The attack takes the Germanic form of the so-called “boar’s head”--the
deep mass technically called the _Gevierthaufe_.[308] Under Justinian
we find, fully developed, a system corresponding precisely to the
_Landsknecht_ system of Charles V, in which condottieri[309] of the
Frundsberg type[310] raise professional forces on a territorial basis.
The expedition of Narses is described by Procopius[311] just as one
might describe the great recruiting-operations of Wallenstein.
But there appeared also in these early centuries a brilliant
Scholasticism and Mysticism of Magian type, domesticated in the
renowned schools of the Aramæan region--the Persian schools of
Ctesiphon, Resaina, Gundisapora, the Jewish of Sura, Nehardea,
Kinnesrin.[312] These are flourishing headquarters of astronomy,
philosophy, chemistry, medicine. But towards the west these grand
manifestations, too, become falsified by the Pseudomorphosis. The
characteristically Magian elements of this knowledge assume at
Alexandria the forms of Greek philosophy and at Beyrout those of
Roman jurisprudence; they are committed to writing in the Classical
languages, squeezed into alien and long-petrified literary forms,
and perverted by the hoary logic of a Civilization of quite other
structure. It is in this, and not in the Islamic, time that Arabian
science began. Yet, as our philologists only unearthed what had been
put in Late Classical dress at Alexandria and Antioch, and had not an
inkling either of the immense wealth of the Arabian spring or of the
real pivots of its researches and ideas, there arose the preposterous
notion that the Arabs were spiritual epigoni of the Classical. In
reality, practically everything that was produced on the “other”
side--from Edessa’s point of view--of the philologist’s frontier,
though seeming to the Western eye an offspring of a “Late Classical”
spirit, is nothing but a reflection of Early Arabian inwardness. And
so we come to consider what the Pseudomorphosis did for the Arabian
religion.
IV
The Classical religion lived in its vast number of _separate cults_,
which in this form were natural and self-evident to Apollinian man,
essentially inaccessible to any alien. As soon as cults of this kind
arise, we have a Classical Culture, and when their essence changes, in
later Roman times, then the soul of this Culture is at an end. Outside
the Classical landscape they have never been genuine and living.
The divinity is always _bound to and bounded by one locality_, in
conformity with the static and Euclidean world-feeling. Correspondingly
the relation of man to the divinity takes the shape of a local cult, in
which the significances lie in the _form_ of its ritual procedure and
not in a dogma underlying them. Just as the population was scattered
geographically in innumerable _points_, so spiritually its religion
was subdivided into these petty cults, each of which was entirely
independent of the rest. _Only their number, and not their scope, was
capable of increase._ Within the Classical religion multiplication
was the only form of growth, and missionary effort of any sort was
excluded, for men could practise these cults without _belonging_ to
them. There were no communities of fellow believers. Though the later
thought of Athens reached somewhat more general ideas of God and his
service, it was philosophy and not religion that it achieved; it
appealed to only a few thinkers and had not the slightest effect on the
feeling of the nation--that is, the Polis.
In the sharpest contrast to this stands the visible form of the Magian
religion--the Church, the brotherhood of the faithful, which has no
home and knows no earthly frontier, which believes the words of Jesus,
“when two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in
the midst of them.” It is self-evident that every such believer must
believe that only one good and true God can be, and that the gods of
the others are evil and false.[313] The relation between this God
and man rests, not in expression or profession, but in the secret
force, the magic, of certain symbolic performances, which if they are
to be effective must be exactly known in form and significance and
practised accordingly. The knowledge of this significance belongs to
the Church--in fact, it is the Church itself, qua community of the
instructed. And, therefore, the centre of gravity of every Magian
religion lies not in a cult, but in a doctrine, in _the creed_.
As long as the Classical remained spiritually strong, pseudomorphosis
of all the Churches of the East into the style of the West continued.
This is a most important aspect of Syncretism. The Persian religion
enters in the shape of the Mithras cult, the Chaldean-Syrian element as
the cults of the star-gods and Baals (Jupiter Dolichenus, Sabazius, Sol
Invictus, Atargatis), the Jewish religion in the form of a Yahweh-cult
(for no other name can be applied to the Egyptian communities of the
Ptolemaic period[314]), and primitive Early-Christianity too--as the
Pauline Epistles and the Catacombs of Rome clearly show--took substance
as a Jesus-cult. And however loudly each of these various religions
(which from about Hadrian’s time drove the genuine old Classical
deities completely into the background) might proclaim itself as
the revelation of the one true faith--Isis styled herself _deorum
dearumque facies uniformis_--in reality they carry, one and all, marks
of the Classical separatism--that is, they multiply to infinity; every
community stands for itself and is local; all the temples, catacombs,
Mithræa, house chapels, are holy places to which (in feeling, even
though not in formal expression) the deity is considered to be
attached.[315] Nevertheless, there is Magian feeling even in this
piety. Classical cults are _practised_, and one may practise as many
of them as one pleases, but of these newer, _a man belongs to one and
one alone_. In the old, propaganda is unthinkable; in the new it goes
without saying, and the purport of religious exercises tends more and
more to the doctrinal side.
From the second century onwards, with the fading of the Apollinian
and the flowering of the Magian soul, the relations are reversed. The
consequences of the Pseudomorphosis continue, _but it is now cults
of the West which tend to become a new Church of the East_--that is,
from the sum of separate cults there evolves a community of those
who believe in these gods and their rituals--and so there arises, by
processes like those of the Early Persian and the Early Judaic, a
Magian Greek nationality. Out of the rigorously established forms of
detail-procedure in sacrifices and mysteries grows a sort of dogma
concerning the inner significance of these acts. The cults can now
represent each other, and men no longer practise or perform them in
the old way, but become “adherents” of them. And the little god _of_
the place becomes--without the gravity of the change being noticed by
anyone--the great God really present in the place.
Carefully as Syncretism has been examined in recent years, the clue to
its development--the transformation of Eastern Churches into Western
cults, and then the reverse process of transformation of Western cults
into Eastern Churches--has been missed.[316] Yet without this key
it is quite impossible to understand the religious history of Early
Christianity. The battle that in Rome was between Christ and Mithras
as cult-deities took the form, east of Antioch, of a contest between
the Persian and the Christian Churches. But the heaviest battle that
Christianity had to fight, after it came itself under the influence
of the Pseudomorphosis and began to develop spiritually with its face
to the West, was not that against the true Classical deities. With
these it was never face to face, for the public city-cults had long
been inwardly dead and possessed no hold whatever on men’s souls. The
formidable enemy was Paganism, or Hellenism, emerging as _a powerful
new Church_ and born of the selfsame spirit as Christianity itself. In
the end there were in the east of the Roman Empire not one cult-Church,
but two, and if one of these comprised exclusively the followers of
Christ, the other, too, was made up of communities which, under a
thousand different labels, consciously worshipped one and the same
divine principle.
Much has been written on the Classical toleration. The nature of
a religion may perhaps be most clearly seen in the limits of its
tolerance, and there were such limits in Classical religions as in
others. It was, indeed, one essential character of these religions
that they were numerous, and another that they were religions of
pure performance; for them, therefore, the question of toleration,
as the word is usually understood, did not arise. But respect for
the cult-formalities as such was postulated and required, and many
a philosopher, even many an unwitting stranger, who infringed this
law by word or deed, was made to realize the limits of Classical
toleration. The reciprocal persecutions of the Magian Churches are
something different from this; there it was the duty of the henotheist
to his own faith that forbade him to recognize false tenets. Classical
_cults_ would have tolerated the Jesus-cult as one of their own number.
But the _cult-Church_ was bound to attack the Jesus-Church. All the
great persecutions of Christians (corresponding therein exactly to
the later persecutions of Paganism) came, not from the “Roman” State,
but from this cult-Church, and they were only political inasmuch as
the cult-Church was both nation and fatherland. It will be observed
that the mask of Cæsar-worship covered _two_ religious usages. In
the Classical cities of the West, Rome above all, the special cult
of the _Divus_ arose as a last expression of that Euclidean feeling
which required that there should be legal and therefore sacral means
of communication between the body-unit man and the body-unit God.
In the East, on the other hand, the product was a creed of Cæsar
as Saviour, God-man, Messiah of all Syncretists, which this Church
brought to expression in a supremely national form. The sacrifice for
the Emperor was the most important _sacrament_ of the Church--exactly
corresponding to the baptism of the Christians--and it is easy,
therefore, to understand the symbolic significance in the days of
persecution of the command and the refusal to do these acts. _All_
these Churches had their sacraments: holy meals like the Haoma-drinking
of the Persians,[317] the Passover of the Jews, the Lord’s Supper of
the Christians, similar rites for Attis and Mithras, and baptismal
ceremonies amongst the Mandæans, the Christians, and the worshippers of
Isis and Cybele. Indeed, the individual cults of the Pagan Church might
be regarded almost as sects and orders--a view which would lead to a
much better understanding of their reciprocal propaganda.
All true Classical mysteries, such as those of Eleusis and those
founded by the Pythagoreans in the South-Italian cities about 500
B.C., had been place-bound,[318] and had consisted in some symbolical
act or process. Within the field of the Pseudomorphosis these freed
themselves from their localities; they could be performed wherever
initiates were gathered, and had now as their object the Magian ecstasy
and the ascetic change of life. The visitors to the holy place had
transformed themselves into practising Orders. The community of the
Neopythagoreans, formed about 50 B.C. and closely related to the
Jewish Essenes, is anything but a Classical “school of philosophy”;
it is a pure monastic order, and it is not the only such order in
the Syncretic movement that anticipated the ideals of the Christian
hermits and the Mohammedan dervishes. These Pagan Churches had their
anchorites, saints, prophets, miraculous conversions, scriptures, and
revelations.[319] In the significance of images there came about a very
remarkable transformation, which still awaits research. The greatest of
Plotinus’s followers, Iamblichus, finally, about A.D. 300, evolved a
mighty system of orthodox theology, ordered hierarchy, and rigid ritual
for the Pagan Church, and his disciple Julian devoted, and finally
sacrificed, his life to the attempt to establish this Church for all
eternity.[320] He sought even to create cloisters for meditating men
and women and to introduce ecclesiastical penance. This great work was
supported by a great enthusiasm which rose to the height of martyrdom
and endured long after the Emperor’s death. Inscriptions exist which
can hardly be translated but by the formula: “There is but one god and
Julian is his Prophet.”[321] Ten years more, and this Church would have
become a historic, permanent fact. In the end not only its power, but
also in important details its very form and content were inherited by
Christianity. It is often stated that the Roman Church adapted itself
to the structure of the Roman State; this is not quite correct. The
latter structure was itself by hypothesis a Church. There was a period
when the two were in touch--Constantine the Great acted simultaneously
as convener of the Council of Nicæa and as Pontifex Maximus, and his
sons, zealous Christians as they were, made him _Divus_ and paid to
him the prescribed rites. St. Augustine dared to assert that the true
religion had existed before the coming of Christianity in the form of
the Classical.[322]
V
For the understanding of Judaism as a whole between Cyrus and
Titus it is necessary constantly to bear in mind three facts, of
which scholarship is quite aware, but which, owing to philological
and theological _parti pris_, it refuses to admit as factors in
its discussions. First, the Jews are a “nation without a land,” a
_consensus_, and in the midst, moreover, of a world of pure nations of
the same type. Secondly, Jerusalem is indeed a Mecca, a holy centre,
but it is neither the home nor the spiritual focus of the people.
Lastly, the Jews are a peculiar phenomenon in world-history only so
long as we insist on treating them as such.
It is true that the post-exilic Jews, in contradistinction to
the pre-exilic Israelites are--as Hugo Winckler was the first to
recognize--a people of quite new type. But they are not the only
representatives of the type. The Aramæan world began in those days to
arrange itself in a great number of such peoples, including Persians
and Chaldeans,[323] all living in the same district, yet in stringent
aloofness from each other, and even then practising the truly Arabian
way of life that we call the ghetto.
The first heralds of the new soul were the _prophetic religions_,
with their magnificent inwardness, which began to arise about 700
B.C. and challenged the primeval practices of the people and their
rulers. They, too, are an essentially Aramæan phenomenon. The more
I ponder Amos, Isaiah, and Jeremiah on the one hand, Zarathustra on
the other, the more closely related they appear to me to be. What
seems to separate them is not their new beliefs, but the objects of
their attack. The first battled with that savage old-Israel religion,
which in fact is a whole bundle of religious elements[324]--belief in
holy stones and trees, innumerable place-gods (Dan, Bethel, Hebron,
Shechem, Beersheba, Gilgal), a single Yahweh (or Elohim), whose name
covers a multitude of most heterogeneous numina, ancestor-worship and
human sacrifices, dervish-dancing and sacral prostitution--intermixed
with indistinct traditions of Moses and Abraham and many customs and
sagas of the Late Babylonian world, now after long establishment in
Canaan degenerated and hardened into peasant forms. The second combated
the old Vedic beliefs of heroes and Vikings, similarly coarsened,
no doubt, and certainly needing to be recalled to actuality, time
and again, by glorifications of the sacred cattle and of the care
thereof. Zarathustra lived about 600 B.C., often in want, persecuted
and misunderstood, and met his end as an old man in war against the
unbelievers[325]--a worthy contemporary of the unfortunate Jeremiah,
who for his prophesying was hated by his countrymen, imprisoned by his
king, and after the catastrophe carried off by the fugitives to Egypt
and there put to death. And it is my belief that this great epoch
brought forth yet a third prophet-religion, the Chaldean.
This, with its penetrating astronomy and its ever-amazing
inwardness, was, I venture to guess, evolved at that time and by
creative personalities of the Isaiah stature from relics of the old
Babylonian religion.[326] About 1000, the Chaldeans were a group of
Aramaic-speaking tribes like the Israelites, and lived in the south of
Sinear--the mother tongue of Jesus is still sometimes called Chaldean.
In Seleucid times the name was applied to a widespread religious
community, and especially to its priests. The Chaldean religion was
an astral religion, which before Hammurabi the Babylonian was _not_.
It is the deepest of all interpretations of the Magian universe, the
World-Cavern[327] and Kismet working therein, and consequently it
remained the fundamental of Islamic and Jewish speculation to their
very latest phases. It was by it, and not by the Babylonian Culture,
that after the seventh century there was formed an astronomy worthy
to be called an exact science--that is, a priestly technique of
observation of marvellous acuteness.[328] It replaced the Babylonian
moon-week by the planet-week. Ishtar, the most popular figure of the
old religion, the goddess of life and fruitfulness, now became a
planet, and Tammuz, the ever-dying and ever-revived god of vegetation,
a fixed star. Finally, the henotheistic feeling announced itself; for
Nebuchadnezzar the Great Marduk[329] was the one true god, the god of
mercy, and Nebo, the old god of Borsippa, was his son and envoy to
mankind. For a century (625-539) Chaldean kings were world-rulers,
but they were also the heralds of the new religion. When temples were
being built, they themselves carried bricks. The accession-prayer
of Nebuchadnezzar, the contemporary of Jeremiah, to Marduk is still
extant, and in depth and purity it is in nowise surpassed by the
finest passages of Israelite prophecy. The Chaldean penitential
psalms, closely related in rhythm and inner structure to those of the
Jews, know the sin of which man is unconscious and the suffering that
contrite avowal before the incensed god can avert. It is the same trust
in the mercy of the Deity that finds a truly Christian expression in
the inscriptions of the Bel temple of Palmyra.[330]
The kernel of the prophetic teachings is already Magian. There is
_one_ god--be he called Yahweh, Ahuramazda or Marduk-Baal--who is the
principle of good, and all other deities are either impotent or evil.
To this doctrine there attached itself the hope of a Messiah, very
clear in Isaiah, but also bursting out everywhere during the next
centuries, under pressure of an inner necessity. It is the basic idea
of Magian religion, for it contains implicitly the conception of the
world-historical struggle between Good and Evil, with the power of Evil
prevailing in the middle period, and the Good finally triumphant on the
Day of Judgment. This moralization of history is common to Persians,
Chaldees, and Jews. But with its coming, the idea of the localized
people _ipso facto_ vanished and the genesis of Magian nations without
earthly homes and boundaries was at hand. The idea of the Chosen People
emerged.[331] But it is easy to understand that men of strong blood,
and in particular the great families, found these too spiritual ideas
repugnant to their natures and harked back to the stout old tribal
faiths. According to Cumont’s researches the religion of the Persian
kings was polytheistic and did not possess the Haoma sacrament--that
is, it was not wholly Zoroastrian. The same is true of most of the
kings of Israel, and in all probability also of the last Chaldean
Nabu-Nabid (Nabonidus), whose overthrow by Cyrus and his own subjects
was in fact made possible by his rejection of the Marduk faith. And it
was in the Captivity that circumcision and the (Chaldean) Sabbath were
first acquired, as rites, by the Jews.
The Babylonian exile, however, did set up an important difference
between the Jews and the Persians, in respect, not of the ultimate
truths of conscious piety, but of all the facts of actuality and
consequently men’s inward attitude to these facts. It was the Yahweh
believers who _were permitted_ to go home and the adherents of
Ahuramazda who _allowed_ them to do so. Of two small tribes that two
hundred years before had probably possessed equal numbers of fighting
men, the one had taken possession of a world--while Darius crossed the
Danube in the north, his power extended in the south through eastern
Arabia to the island of Sokotra on the Somali coast[332]--and the other
had become an entirely unimportant pawn of alien policy.
This is what made one religion so lordly, the other so humble.
Let the student read, in contrast to Jeremiah, the great Behistun
inscription[333] of Darius--what a splendid pride of the King in his
victorious god! And how despairing are the arguments with which the
Israelite prophets sought to preserve intact the image of their god.
Here, in exile, with every Jewish eye turned by the Persian victory
to the Zoroastrian doctrine, the pure Judaic prophecy (Amos, Hosea,
Isaiah, Jeremiah) passes into _Apocalypse_ (Deutero-Isaiah,[334]
Ezekiel, Zechariah). All the new visions of the Son of Man, of Satan,
of archangels, of the seven heavens, of the last judgment, are _Persian
presentations of the common world-feeling_. In Isaiah xli appears Cyrus
himself, hailed as Messiah. Did the great composer of Deutero-Isaiah
draw his enlightenment from a Zoroastrian disciple? Is it possible
that the Persians released the Jews out of a feeling of the inward
relationship of their two teachings? It is certain at any rate that
both shared one popular idea as to last things, and felt and expressed
a common hatred of the old Babylonian and Classical religions, of
unbelievers generally, which they did not feel towards one another.
We must not, however, forget to look at the “return from captivity”
also from the point of view of Babylon. The great mass, strong in
race-force, was in reality far removed from these ideas, or regarded
them as mere visions and dreams; and the solid peasantry, the artisans,
and no doubt the nascent land-aristocracy quietly remained in its
holdings _under a prince of their own_, the Resh Galutha, whose
capital was Nehardea.[335] Those who returned “home” were the small
minority, the stubborn, the zealots. They numbered with their wives and
children forty thousand, a figure which cannot be one-tenth or even
one-twentieth of the total, and anyone who confuses these settlers
and their destiny with Jewry as a whole[336] must necessarily fail
to read the inner meaning of all following events. The _little world
of Judaism lived a spiritually separate life_, and the nation as a
whole, while regarding this life with respect, certainly did not share
in it. In the East apocalyptic literature, the heiress of prophecy,
blossomed richly. It was a genuine native poetry of the people, of
which we still have the masterpiece, the Book of Job--a work in
character Islamic and decidedly un-Jewish[337]--while a multitude of
its other tales and sagas, such as Judith, Tobit, Achikar,[338] are
spread as motives over all the literatures of the “Arabian” world. In
Judea only the Law flourished; the Talmudic spirit appears first in
Ezekiel (chs. xl, et seq.) and after 450 is made flesh in the scribes
(Sopherim) headed by Ezra. From 300 B.C. to A.D. 200 the Tannaim
(“Teachers”) expounded the Torah and developed the Mishnah. Neither
the coming of Jesus nor the destruction of the Temple interrupted
this abstract scholarship. Jerusalem became for the rigid believer
a Mecca, and his Koran was a Code of laws to which was gradually
added a whole primitive history compounded of Chaldeo-Persian motives
reset according to Pharisaic ideas.[339] But in this atmosphere there
was no room for a worldly art, poetry, or learning. All that the
Talmud contains of astronomical, medical, and juristic knowledge is
exclusively of Mesopotamian origin.[340] It is probable, too, that it
was in Mesopotamia, and _before_ the end of the Captivity, that there
began that Chaldean-Persian-Jewish formation of sects which developed
into the formation of great religions at the beginning of the Magian
Culture, and reached its climax in the teaching of Mani. “The Law and
the Prophets”--_these two nouns practically define the difference
between Judea and Mesopotamia_. In the late Persian and in every other
Magian theology both tendencies are united; it is only in the case
here considered that they were separated in space. The decisions of
Jerusalem were recognized everywhere, but it is a question how widely
they were obeyed. Even as near as Galilee the Pharisees were the object
of suspicion, while in Babylonia no Rabbi could be consecrated. For the
great Gamaliel, Paul’s teacher, it was a title to fame that his rulings
were followed by the Jews “even abroad.” How independent was the life
of the Jews in Egypt is shown by the recently discovered documents
of Elephantine and Assuan.[341] About 170, Onias asked the King for
permission to build a temple “according to the measurements of the
Temple in Jerusalem,” on the ground that the numerous non-conforming
temples that existed were the cause of eternal bickerings amongst the
communities.
One other subject must be considered. Jewry, like Persia, had since the
Exile increased enormously beyond the old small clan-limits; this was
owing to conversions and secessions--_the only form of conquest open
to a landless nation and, therefore, natural and obvious to the Magian
religions_. In the north it very early drove, through the Jew State of
Adiabene, to the Caucasus; in the south (probably along the Persian
Gulf) it penetrated to Saba; in the west it was dominant in Alexandria,
Cyrene, and Cyprus. The administration of Egypt and the policy of the
Parthian Empire were largely in Jewish hands.
But this movement _came out of Mesopotamia alone_, and the spirit in
it was the Apocalyptic and not the Talmudic. Jerusalem was occupied in
creating yet more legal barriers against the unbeliever. It was not
enough even to abandon the practice of making converts. A Pharisee
permitted himself to summon the universally beloved King Hyrcanus
(135-106) to lay down the office of High Priest because his mother
had once been in the power of the infidels.[342] This is the same
narrowness which in the primitive Christian brotherhood of Judea took
the form of opposing the preaching of the Gospel to the heathen. In
the East it would simply never have occurred to anyone to draw such
barriers, which were contrary to the whole idea of the Magian nation.
But in that very fact was based _the spiritual superiority_ of the wide
East. The Synedrion in Jerusalem might possess unchallenged religious
authority, but politically, and therefore historically, the power of
the Resh Galutha was a very different matter. Christian and Jewish
research alike have failed to perceive these things. So far as I am
aware, no one has noticed the important fact that the persecution of
Antiochus Epiphanes was directed not against “Jewry” but against Judea.
And this brings us to another fact, of still greater importance.
The destruction of Jerusalem hits only a very small part of the nation,
one moreover that was spiritually and politically by far the least
important. It is not true that the Jewish people has lived “in the
Dispersion” since that day, for it had lived for centuries (and so too
had the Persian and others) in a form which was independent of country.
On the other hand, we realize equally little the impression made by
this war upon the real Jewry which Judea thought of and treated as an
adjunct. The victory of the heathen and the ruin of the Sanctuary was
felt in the inmost soul,[343] and in the crusade of 115[344] a bitter
revenge was taken for it; but the ideal outraged and vindicated was the
ideal of Jewry and not that of Judaism. Zionism then, as in Cyrus’s
day and in ours, was a reality only for a quite small and spiritually
narrow minority. If the calamity had been really felt in the sense of
a “loss of home” (as we figure it to ourselves with the Western mind),
a hundred opportunities after Marcus Aurelius’s time could have been
seized to win the city back. But that would have contradicted the
Magian sense of the nation, whose ideal organic form was the synagogue,
the pure _consensus_--like the early Catholic “visible Church” and like
Islam--and it was precisely the annihilation of Judea and the clan
spirit of Judea that _for the first time completely actualized this
ideal_.
For Vespasian’s War, directed against Judea, was a liberation of
Jewry. In the first place, it ended both the claim of the people of
this petty district to be the genuine nation, and the pretensions
of their bald spirituality to equivalence with the soul-life of the
whole. The research, the scholasticism, and the mysticism of the
Oriental academies entered into possession of their rights; so, for
instance, the judge Karna--the contemporary, more or less, of Ulpian
and Papinian--formulated at the academy of Nehardea the first code
of civil law.[345] In the second place, it rescued this religion
from the dangers of that pseudomorphosis to which Christianity in
that same period was succumbing. Since 200 B.C. there had existed a
half-Hellenistic Jewish literature. The “Preacher” (Ecclesiastes,
Koheleth) contains Pyrrhonic ideas.[346] The Wisdom of Solomon, 2
Maccabees, Theodotion, the Aristeas Letter, etc., follow; there are
things like the Menander collection of Maxims, as to which it is
impossible to say whether they ought to be regarded as Jewish or as
Greek. There were, about 160, high priests who were so Hellenistic in
spirit that they combated the Jewish religion, and later there were
rulers like Hyrcanus and Herod who did the same by political methods.
This danger came to an end instantly and for good in A.D. 70.
In the time of Jesus there were in Jerusalem three tendencies which
can be described as generally Aramæan, represented respectively by the
Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes. Although the connotations
of these names varied, and although both in Christian and in Jewish
research most diverse views are held about them, it may at any rate be
said that the first of these tendencies is found in greatest purity
in Judaism, the second in Chaldeanism, the third in Hellenism.[347]
Essene is the rise of the cult (almost the Order) of Mithras in
the east of Asia Minor. The Sadducees, although in Jerusalem they
appear as a small and distinguished group--Josephus compares them
with the Epicureans--are thoroughly Aramæan in their apocalyptic and
eschatological views, in virtue of a certain element which makes
them, so to say, the Dostoyevskis of this Early period. They stand
to the Pharisees in the relation of mysticism to scholasticism, of
John to Paul, of Bundahish to Vendidad[348] in the Persian world.
The Apocalyptic is popular, and many of its traits are spiritually
common property throughout the Aramæan world; the Talmudic and Avestan
Pharisaism is exclusive and tries to rule out every other religion with
uncompromising rigour.
The Essenes appear in Jerusalem as a monastic order like the
Neopythagoreans. They possessed secret texts.[349] In the broad sense
they are representative of the Pseudomorphosis, and in consequence
they disappear from Jewry completely after A.D. 70, while precisely in
this period Christian literature was becoming purely Greek--not in the
least of the causes of this being that the Hellenized Western Jews left
Judaism to retreat into its East, and gradually adopted Christianity.
But also Apocalyptic, which is an expression-form of townless and
town-fearing mankind, soon came to an end within the Synagogue, after a
last wonderful reaction to the stimulus of the great catastrophe.[350]
When it had become evident that the teaching of Jesus would lead
not to a reform of Judaism, but to a new religion, and when, about
A.D. 100, the daily imprecation-formula against the Jew-Christians
was introduced, Apocalyptic for the short remainder of its existence
resided in the young Church.
VI
The incomparable thing which lifted the infant Christianity out above
all religions of this rich Springtime is the figure of Jesus. In all
the great creations of those years there is nothing which can be set
beside it. Tame and empty all the legends and holy adventures of
Mithras, Attis, and Osiris must have seemed to any man reading or
listening to the still recent story of Jesus’s sufferings--the last
journey to Jerusalem, the last anxious supper, the hours of despair in
Gethsemane, and the death on the cross.
Here was no matter of philosophy. Jesus’s utterances, which stayed
in the memory of many of the devoted, even in old age, are those of
a child in the midst of an alien, aged, and sick world. They are not
sociological observations, problems, debatings. Like a quiet island
of bliss was the life of these fishermen and craftsmen by the Lake of
Gennesareth in the midst of the age of the great Tiberius, far from all
world-history and innocent of all the doings of actuality, while round
them glittered the Hellenistic towns with their theatres and temples,
their refined Western society, their noisy mob-diversions, their Roman
cohorts, their Greek philosophy. When the friends and disciples of the
sufferer had grown grey and his brother was president of their group in
Jerusalem, they put together, from the sayings and narratives generally
current in their small communities, a biography so arresting in its
inward appeal that it evolved a presentation-form of its own, of which
neither the Classical nor the Arabian Culture has any example--the
Gospel. Christianity is the one religion in the history of the world in
which the fate of a man of the immediate present has become the emblem
and the central point of the whole creation.
A strange excitement, like that which the Germanic world experienced
about A.D. 1000, ran in those days through the whole Aramæan land.
The Magian soul was awakened. That element which lay in the prophetic
religions like a presentiment, and expressed itself in Alexander’s
time in metaphysical outlines, came now to the state of fulfilment.
And this fulfilment awakened, in indescribable strength, the primitive
feeling of Fear. The birth of the Ego, and of the world-anxiety with
which it is identical, is one of the final secrets of humanity and of
mobile life generally. In front of the Microcosm there stands up a
Macrocosm wide and overpowering, an abyss of alien, dazzling existence
and activity that frightens the small lonely ego back into itself.
Even in the blackest hours of life no adult experiences fear like the
fear which sometimes overpowers a child in the crisis of awakening.
Over the dawn of the new Culture likewise lay this deathly anxiety. In
this early morning of Magian world-feeling, timorous and hesitant and
ignorant of itself, young eyes saw the end of the world at hand--it
is the first thought in which every Culture to this day has come to
knowledge of itself. All but the shallower souls trembled before
revelations, miracles, glimpses into the very fundament of things. Men
now lived and thought only in apocalyptic images. Actuality became
appearance. Strange and terrifying visions were told mysteriously by
one to another, read out from fantastic veiled texts, and seized at
once with an immediate inward certainty. These writings travelled from
community to community, village to village, and it is quite impossible
to assign them to any one particular religion.[351] Their colouring
is Persian, Chaldean, Jewish, but they have absorbed all that was
circulating in men’s minds. Whereas the canonical books are national,
the apocalyptic literature is international in the literal sense of the
word. It is there, and no one seems to have composed it. Its content
is fluid--to-day it reads thus and to-morrow otherwise. But this
does not mean that it is a “poetry”--it is not.[352] These creations
resemble the terrible figures of the Romanesque cathedral-porches
in France, which also are not “art,” but fear turned into stone.
Everyone knows those angels and devils, the ascent to heaven and
descent to hell of divine Essence, the Second Adam, the Envoy of God,
the Redeemer of the last days, the Son of Man, the eternal city, and
the last judgment.[353] In the alien cities and the high positions
of strict Judaic and Persian priesthoods the different doctrines
might be tangibly defined and argued about, but below in the mass of
the people there was practically no specific religion, but a general
Magian religiousness which filled all souls and attached itself to
glimpses and visions of every conceivable origin. The Last Day was
at hand. Men expected it and knew that on that day “He” of whom all
these revelations spoke would appear. Prophets arose. More and more
new communities and groups gathered, believing themselves to have
found either a better understanding of the traditional religion, or
the true religion itself. In this time of amazing, ever-increasing
tension, and in the very years around Jesus’s birth-year, there arose,
besides endless communities and sects, another redemption-religion, the
Mandæan, as to which we know nothing of founder or origins. In spite
of its hatred of the Judaism of Jerusalem and its definite preference
for the Persian idea of redemption, the Mandæan religion seems to have
stood very close to the popular beliefs of Syrian Jewry. One after
another, pieces of its wonderful documents are becoming available, and
they consistently show us a “Him,” a Son of Man, a Redeemer who is sent
down into the depths, who himself must be redeemed and is the goal of
man’s expectations. In the Book of John, the Father high upraised in
the House of Fulfilment, bathed in light, says to his only begotten
Son: “My Son, be to me an ambassador; go into the world of darkness,
where no ray of light is.” And the Son calls up to him: “Father, in
what have I sinned that thou hast sent me into the darkness?” And
finally: “Without sin did I ascend and there was no sin and defect in
me.”[354]
All the characters of the great prophetic religions and of the whole
store of profound glimpses and visions later collected into apocalypses
are seen here as foundations. Of Classical thought and feeling not
a breath reached this Magian underworld. No doubt the beginnings of
the new religion are lost irrevocably. But _one_ historical figure of
Mandæanism stands forth with startling distinctness, as tragic in his
purpose and his downfall as Jesus himself--John the Baptist.[355] He,
almost emancipated from Judaism, and filled with as mighty a hatred
of the Jerusalem spirit as that of primitive Russia for Petersburg,
preached the end of the world and the coming of the Barnasha, the Son
of Man, _who is no longer the longed-for national Messiah of the Jews_,
but the bringer of the world-conflagration.[356] To him came Jesus and
was his disciple.[357] He was thirty years old when the awakening came
over him. Thenceforth the apocalyptic, and in particular the Mandæan,
thought-world filled his whole being. The other world of historical
actuality lying round him was to him as something sham, alien, void of
significance. That “He” would now come and make an end of this unreal
reality was his magnificent certainty, and like his master John, he
stepped forth as its herald. Even now we can see, in the oldest Gospels
that were embodied into the New Testament, gleams of this period in
which he was, in his consciousness, nothing but a prophet.[358]
But there was a moment in his life when an inkling, and then high
certainty, came over him--“Thou art thyself It!” It was a secret that
he at first hardly admitted to himself, and only later imparted to his
nearest friends and companions, who thereafter shared with him, in all
stillness, the blessed mission, till finally they dared to reveal the
truths before all the world by the momentous journey to Jerusalem. If
there is anything at all that clouds the complete purity and honour of
his thought, it is that doubt as to whether he has deceived himself
which from time to time seizes him, and of which, later, his disciples
told quite frankly. He comes to his home. The village crowds to him,
recognizes the former carpenter who left his work, is angered. The
family--mother and all the brothers and sisters--are ashamed of him
and would have arrested him. And with all these familiar eyes upon him
he was confused and felt the magic power depart from him (Mark vi).
In Gethsemane doubts of his mission[359] mingled themselves in the
terrible fear of coming things, and even on the cross men heard the
anguished cry that God had forsaken him.
Even in these last hours he lived entirely in the form of his own
apocalyptic world, which alone was ever real to him. What to the Roman
sentries standing below him was reality was for him an object of
helpless wonder, an illusion that might at any moment without warning
vanish into nothingness. He possessed the pure and unadulterated soul
of the townless land. The life of the cities and their spirit were to
him utterly alien. Did he really see the semi-Classical Jerusalem, into
which he rode as the Son of Man, and understand its historical nature?
This is what thrills us in the last days--and the collision of facts
with truths, of two worlds that will never understand one another, and
his entire incomprehension of what was happening about him.
So he went, proclaiming his message without reservation, through his
country. But this country was Palestine. He was born in the Classical
Empire and lived under the eyes of the Judaism of Jerusalem, and when
his soul, fresh from the awful revelation of its mission, looked
about, it was confronted by the actuality of the Roman State and that
of Pharisaism. His repugnance for the stiff and selfish ideal of the
latter, which he shared with all Mandæanism and doubtless with the
peasant Jewry of the wide East, is the hall-mark of all his discourses
from first to last. It angered him that this wilderness of cold-hearted
formulæ was reputed to be the only way to salvation. Still, thus far
it was only another kind of piety that his conviction was asserting
against Rabbinical logic. Thus far it is only the Law versus the
Prophets.
But when Jesus was taken before Pilate, then _the world of facts and
the world of truths were face to face in immediate and implacable
hostility_. It is a scene appallingly distinct and overwhelming in
its symbolism, such as the world’s history had never before and has
never since looked at. The discord that lies at the root of all mobile
life from its beginning, in virtue of its very _being_, of its having
both existence _and_ awareness, took here the highest form that can
possibly be conceived of human tragedy. In the famous question of the
Roman Procurator: “What is truth?”--the one word that is race-pure
in the whole Greek Testament--lies _the entire meaning of history_,
the exclusive validity of the deed, the prestige of the State and war
and blood, the all-powerfulness of success and the pride of eminent
fitness. Not indeed the mouth, but the silent feeling of Jesus answers
this question by that other which is decisive in all things of
religion--_What is actuality?_ For Pilate actuality was all; for him
nothing. Were it anything, indeed, pure religiousness could never stand
up against history and the powers of history, or sit in judgment on
active life; or if it does, it ceases to be religion and is subjected
itself to the spirit of history.
_My kingdom is not of this world._ This is the final word which admits
of no gloss and on which each must check the course wherein birth and
nature have set him. A being that makes use of a waking-consciousness,
or a waking-consciousness which subjects being to itself; pulsation
or tension, blood or intellect, history or nature, politics or
religion--here it is one or the other, there is no honest way
of compromise. A statesman can be deeply religious, a pious man
can die for his country--but they must, both, know on which side
they are really standing. The born politician despises the inward
thought-processes of the ideologue and ethical philosopher in a world
of fact--and rightly. For the believer, all ambition and succession of
the historical world are sinful and without lasting value--he, too,
is right. A ruler who wishes to improve religion in the direction
of political, practical purposes is a fool. A sociologist-preacher
who tries to bring truth, righteousness, peace, and forgiveness into
the world of actuality is a fool also. No faith yet has altered the
world, and no fact can ever rebut a faith. There is no bridge between
directional Time and timeless Eternity, between the _course_ of history
and the _existence_ of a divine world-order, in the structure of which
the word “providence” or “dispensation” denotes the form of causality.
_This is the final meaning of the moment in which Jesus and Pilate
confronted one another._ In the one world, the historical, the Roman
caused the Galilean to be crucified--that was his Destiny. In the other
world, Rome was cast for perdition and the Cross became the pledge of
Redemption--that was the “will of God.”[360]
_Religion is metaphysic and nothing else--“Credo quia absurdum”_--and
this metaphysic is not the metaphysic of knowledge, argument, proof
(which is mere philosophy or learnedness), but _lived and experienced_
metaphysic--that is, the unthinkable as a certainty, the supernatural
as a fact, life as existence in a world that is non-actual, but true.
Jesus never lived one moment in any other world but this. He was no
moralizer, and to see in moralizing the final aim of religion is to
be ignorant of what religion is. Moralizing is nineteenth-century
Enlightenment, humane Philistinism. To ascribe social purposes to Jesus
is a blasphemy. His occasional utterances of a social kind, so far as
they are authentic and not merely attributed sayings, tend merely to
edification. They contain nothing whatever of new doctrine, and they
include proverbs of the sort then in general currency. His _teaching_
was the proclamation, nothing but the proclamation, of those Last
Things with whose images he was constantly filled, the dawn of the New
Age, the advent of heavenly envoys, the last judgment, a new heaven
and a new earth.[361] Any other conception of religion was never in
Jesus, nor in any truly deep-feeling period of history. _Religion is,
first and last, metaphysic_, other-worldliness (_Jenseitigkeit_),
awareness in a world of which the evidence of the senses merely lights
the foreground. It is life in and with the supersensible. And where the
capacity for this awareness, or even the capacity for believing in its
existence, is wanting, real religion is at an end. “My kingdom is _not_
of this world,” and only he who can look into the depths that this
flash illumines can comprehend the voices that come out of them. It is
the Late, city periods that, no longer capable of seeing into depths,
have turned the remnants of religiousness upon the external world and
replaced religion by humanities, and metaphysic by moralization and
social ethics.
In Jesus we have the direct opposite. “Give unto Cæsar the things that
are Cæsar’s” means: “Fit yourselves to the powers of the fact-world, be
patient, suffer, and ask it not whether they are ‘just.’” What alone
matters is the salvation of the soul. “Consider the lilies” means:
“Give no heed to riches _and poverty_, for both fetter the soul to
cares of this world.” “Man cannot serve both God and Mammon”--by Mammon
is meant the _whole_ of actuality. It is shallow, and it is cowardly,
to argue away the grand significance of this demand. Between working
for the increase of one’s own riches, and working for the social ease
of everyone, he would have felt no difference whatever. When wealth
affrighted him, when the primitive community in Jerusalem--which was
a strict Order and not a socialist club--rejected ownership, it was
the most direct opposite of “social” sentiment that moved them. Their
conviction was, not that the visible state of things was all, but that
it was nothing: that it rested not on appreciation of comfort in this
world, but on unreserved contempt of it. Something, it is true, must
always exist to be set against and to nullify worldly fortune, and so
we come back to the contrast of Tolstoi and Dostoyevski. Tolstoi, the
townsman and Westerner, saw in Jesus only a social reformer, and in
his metaphysical impotence--like the whole civilized West, which can
only think about _distributing_, never _renouncing_--elevated primitive
Christianity to the rank of a social revolution. Dostoyevski, who was
poor, but in certain hours almost a saint, never thought about social
ameliorations--of what profit would it have been to a man’s _soul_ to
abolish _property_?
VII
Amongst Jesus’s friends and disciples, stunned as they were by the
appalling outcome of the journey to Jerusalem, there spread after a
few days the news of his resurrection and reappearance. The impression
of this news on such souls and in such a time can never be more than
partially echoed in the sensibilities of a Late mankind. It meant the
actual fulfilment of all the Apocalyptic of that Magian Springtime--the
end of the present æon marked by the ascension of the redeemed
Redeemer, the second Adam, the Saoshyant, Enosh, Barnasha, or whatever
other name man attached to “Him,” into the light-realm of the Father.
And therewith the foretold future, the new world-æon, “the Kingdom
of Heaven,” became immediately present. They felt themselves at the
decisive point in the history of redemption.
This certainty completely transformed the world-outlook of the little
circles. “His” teachings, as they had flowed from his mild and noble
nature--his inner feeling of the relation between God and man and of
the high meaning of the times, and were exhaustively comprised in
and defined by the word “love”--fell into the background, and their
place was taken by the _teaching of Him_. As the Arisen he became for
his disciples a new figure, in and of the Apocalyptic, and (what was
more) its most important and final figure. But therewith their image
of the future took form as an image of memory. Now, this was something
of quite decisive importance, unheard-of in the world of Magian
thought--the transference of an actuality, lived and experienced, on to
the plane of the high story itself. The Jews (amongst them the young
Paul) and the Mandæans (amongst them the disciples of John the Baptist)
fought against it with passion and made of Jesus a “False Messiah” such
as had been spoken of in the earliest Persian texts.[362] For them “He”
was still to come from afar; for the little community “He” had already
been--had they not seen him and lived with him? We have to enter into
this conception unreservedly if we are to appreciate the enormous
superiority it had in those times. Instead of an uncertain glimpse into
the distance,[363] a compelling present; instead of fearful waiting for
a liberating certainty, instead of a saga, a lived and shared human
destiny--truly they were “glad tidings” that were proclaimed.
But to whom? Even in the first days the question arose which decided
the whole Destiny of the new revelation. Jesus and his friends were
Jews by birth, but they did not belong to the land of Judea. Here in
Jerusalem men looked for the Messiah of their old sacred books, a
Messiah who was to appear for the “Jewish people,” in the old tribal
sense, and only for them. But all the rest of the Aramæan world waited
upon the Saviour of the _world_, the Redeemer and Son of Man, the
figure of all apocalyptic literature, whether written out in Jewish,
Persian, Chaldean, or Mandæan terms.[364] In the one view the death
and resurrection of Jesus were merely local events; in the other they
betokened a world-change. For, while everywhere else the Jews were a
Magian nation without home or unity of birth, Jerusalem held firmly
to the tribal idea. The conflict was not one between “preaching to
the Jews” and “preaching to the Gentiles”--it went far deeper. The
word “mission” had essentially here a twofold meaning. In the Judaic
view there was essentially no need for recruiting--quite the reverse,
as it was a contradiction to the Messiah-idea. The words “tribe” and
“mission” are reciprocally exclusive. The members of the Chosen People,
and in particular the priesthood, had merely to convince _themselves_
that their longing was now fulfilled. But to the Magian nation, based
on _consensus_ or community of feeling, what the Resurrection conveyed
was a full and definitive truth, and consensus in the matter of this
truth gave the _principle of the true nation_, which must necessarily
expand till it had taken in all older and conceptually incomplete
principles. “A Shepherd and his sheep” was the formula of the new
world-nation. The nation of the Redeemer was identical with mankind.
When, therefore, we survey the early history of this Culture, we see
that the controversy in the Apostles’ Council[365] had been already
decided, five hundred years before, by facts. Post-exilic Jewry (with
the sole exception of self-contained Judea) had, like the Persians,
Chaldeans, and others, recruited widely amongst the heathen, from
Turkestan to inner Africa, regardless of home and origin. As to this
there is now no controversy. It never at any time entered the heads of
this community to be anything but what it really was. It was itself
already the result of _a national existence in dispersion_. In utter
contrast to the old-Jewish texts--which were a carefully preserved
treasure, and of which the right interpretation, the Halakha, was
reserved by the Rabbis to themselves--the apocalyptic literature
was written so that it could reach all the souls to be wakened, and
interpreted so that it might strike home in everyone.
It is easy to see which of these conceptions was that of Jesus’s
oldest friends, for they established themselves as a community of the
Last Days in Jerusalem and frequented the Temple. For these simple
folk--amongst them his brothers, who erstwhile had openly rejected him,
and his mother, who now believed in her executed Son[366]--the power of
the Judaic tradition was even stronger than the spirit of Apocalypse.
In their object of convincing the Jews they failed (although at first
even Pharisees came over to them) and so they remained as one of the
numerous sects within Judaism, and their product, the “Confession of
Peter,” may fairly be characterized as an express assertion that they
themselves were the true Jewry and the Synedrion the false.[367]
The final destiny of this circle[368] was to fall into oblivion when,
as very soon happened, the whole world of Magian thought and feeling
responded to the new apocalyptic teaching. Amongst the later disciples
of Jesus were many who were definitely and purely Magian, and wholly
free from the Pharisaic spirit. Long before Paul, they had tacitly
settled the mission question. Not to preach, for them, was not to live
at all, and presently they had assembled, everywhere from the Tigris
to the Tiber, small circles in which the figure of Jesus, in every
conceivable presentation, merged with the mass of prior visions.[369]
Out of this, a new discord arose, as between mission to the heathen and
mission to the Jews, and this was far more important than the conflict
between Judea and the world on issues already decided. Jesus had lived
in Galilee. Was his teaching to look west or east? Was it to be a
Jesus-cult or an Order of the Saviour? Was it to seek intimacy with the
Persian or with the Syncretic Church, both of which were in process of
formation?
This was the question decided by Paul--the first great personality
in the new movement, and the first who had the sense not only of
truths, but of facts. As a young rabbi from the West, and a pupil
of one of the most famous of the Tannaim, he had persecuted the
Christians qua Jewish sectaries. Then, after an awakening of the sort
that often happened in those days, he turned to the numerous small
cult-communities of the West and forged out of them a Church of _his
own_ modelling: so that thenceforward, the Pagan and the Christian
cult-Churches evolved in parallel, and with constant reciprocal action,
up to Iamblichus and Athanasius (about A.D. 330). In the presence of
this great ideal, Paul had for the Jesus-communities of Jerusalem a
scarcely veiled contempt. There is nothing in the New Testament more
express and exact than the beginning of the Epistle to the Galatians;
his activity is a self-assumed task; he has taught how it pleased him
and he has built how it pleased him. Finally, after fourteen years, he
goes to Jerusalem in order, by force of his superior mentality, his
success, and his effective independence of the old comrades of Jesus,
to compel them there to agree that his, Paul’s, creation contained the
true doctrine. Peter and his people, alien to actualities, failed to
seize and appreciate the far-reaching significance of the discussion.
And from that moment the primitive community was superfluous.
Paul was a rabbi in intellect and an apocalyptic in feeling. He
recognized Judaism, but as a _preliminary_ development. And thus there
came to be two Magian religions with the same Scriptures (namely,
the Old Testament), but a double Halakha, the one setting towards
the Talmud--developed by the Tannaim at Jerusalem from 300 B.C.
onwards--and the other, founded by Paul and completed by the Fathers,
in the direction of the Gospel. But, further, Paul drew together the
whole fullness of Apocalypse and salvation-yearning then circulating
in these fields[370] into a salvation-_certainty_, the certainty
immediately revealed to him and to him _alone_ near Damascus. “_Jesus
is the Redeemer and Paul is his Prophet_”--this is the whole content
of his message. The analogy with Mohammed could scarcely be closer.
They differed neither in the nature of the awakening, nor in prophetic
self-assuredness, nor in the consequent assertion of sole authority and
unconditional truth for their respective expositions.
With Paul, urban man and his “intelligence” come on the scene. The
others, though they might know Jerusalem or Antioch, never grasped the
essence of these cities. They lived soil-bound, rural, wholly soul and
feeling. But now there appeared a spirit that had grown up in the great
cities of Classical cast, that could only live in cities, that neither
understood nor respected the peasant’s countryside. An understanding
was possible with Philo, but with Peter never. Paul was the first by
whom the Resurrection-experience was _seen as a problem_; the ecstatic
awe of the young countryman changed in his brain into a conflict of
spiritual principles. For what a contrast!--the struggle of Gethsemane,
and the hour of Damascus: Child and Man, soul-anguish and intellectual
decision, self-devotion to death and resolve to change sides! Paul
had begun by seeing in the new Jewish sect a danger to the Pharisaism
of Jerusalem; now, suddenly, he comprehended that the Nazarenes “were
right”--a phrase that is inconceivable on the lips of Jesus--and took
up their cause against Judaism, thereby setting up as an _intellectual
quantity_ that which had previously consisted in the knowledge of an
experience. An intellectual quantity--but in making his cause into
this he unwittingly drove it close to the other intellectual powers,
_the cities of the West_. In the ambiance of pure Apocalyptic there
is no “intellect.” For the old comrades it was simply not possible to
understand him in the least--and mournfully and doubtfully they must
have looked at him while he was addressing them. Their living image
of Jesus (whom Paul had never seen) paled in this bright, hard light
of concepts and propositions. Thenceforward the holy memory faded
into a Scholastic system. But Paul had a perfectly exact feeling for
the true home of his ideas. His missionary journeys were all directed
westward, and the East he ignored. _He never left the domain of the
Classical city._ Why did he go to Rome, to Corinth, and not to Edessa
or Ctesiphon? And why was it that he worked _only in the cities, and
never from village to village?_
That things developed thus was due to Paul _alone_. In the face of his
practical energy the feelings of all the rest counted for nothing, and
so the young Church took the urban and Western tendency decisively,
so decisively that later it could describe the remaining heathen as
“_pagani_,” country-folk. Thus arose an immense danger that only youth
and vernal force enabled the growing Church to repel; the fellah-world
of the Classical cities grasped at it with both hands, and the marks
of that grasp are visible to-day. But--how remote already from the
essence of Jesus, whose entire life had been bound to country and
the country-folk! The Pseudomorphosis in which he was born he had
simply not noticed; his soul contained not the smallest trace of
its influence--and now, a generation after him, probably within the
lifetime of his mother, that which had grown up out of his death had
already become a centre of formative purpose for that Pseudomorphosis.
The Classical City was soon the only theatre of ritual and dogmatic
evolution. Eastward the community extended only furtively and
unobtrusively.[371] About A.D. 100 there were already Christians beyond
the Tigris, but as far as the development of the Church was concerned
they and their beliefs might almost have been non-existent.
It was a second creation, then, that came out of Paul’s immediate
entourage, and it was this creation that, essentially, defined the
form of the new Church. The personality and the story of Jesus cried
aloud to be put into poetic form, and yet it is due to one man alone,
Mark, that Gospels came into existence at all.[372] What Paul and
Mark had before them was a firm tradition in the community, _the_
“Gospel,” a continued and propagated hearsay, supported by formless and
insignificant notes in Aramaic and Greek, but in no way set out. In
any case, of course, serious documents would have come into existence
some time or another, but their natural form as products of the spirit
of those who had _lived_ with Jesus (and of the spirit of the East
generally) would have been a canonical collection of his sayings,
amplified, conclusively defined, and provided with an exegesis by the
Councils and pivoting upon the Second Advent. But any tentatives in
this direction were completely broken off by the Gospel of Mark, which
was written down about A.D. 65, at the same time as the last Pauline
Epistles, and, like them, in Greek. The writer had no suspicion,
perhaps, of the significance of his little work, but it made him one
of the supremely important personalities not only of Christianity, but
of the Arabian Culture generally. All older attempts vanished, leaving
writings in Gospel-form as the sole sources concerning Jesus. (So much
so that “_Evangelium_,” from signifying the content of glad tidings,
came to mean the form itself.) The work was the outcome of the wishes
of Pauline, literate, circles that had never heard any one of Jesus’s
companions discourse about him. It is _an apocalyptic life-picture from
a distance_; lived experience is replaced by narrative, and narrative
so plain and straightforward that the apocalyptic tendency passes quite
unperceived.[373] And yet Apocalyptic is its condition precedent. It
is not the words of Jesus, but the doctrine of Jesus in the Pauline
form, that constitutes the substance of Mark. The first Christian book
emanates from the Pauline creation. But very soon the latter itself
becomes unthinkable without the book and its successors.
For presently there arose something which Paul, the born schoolman,
had never intended, but which nevertheless had been made inevitable by
the tendency of his work--the _cult-church of Christian nationality_.
While the Syncretic creed-community, in proportion as it attained
to consciousness of itself, drew the innumerable old city-cults and
the new Magian together and by means of a supreme cult endowed the
structure with henotheistic form, the Jesus-cult of the oldest Western
communities was so long dissected and enriched that it also came to
consist of just such another mass of cults.[374] Around the birth of
Jesus, of which the Disciples knew nothing, grew up a story of his
childhood. In the Mark Gospel it has not yet come into existence.
Already in the old Persian apocalyptic, indeed, the Saoshyant as
Saviour of the Last Day was said to be born of a virgin. But the new
western myth was of quite other significance and had incalculable
consequences. For within the Pseudomorphosis-region there arose
presently beside Jesus a figure to which he was Son, which transcended
his figure--that of the Mother of God. She, like her Son, was a simple
human destiny of such arresting and attractive force that she towered
above all the hundred and one Virgins and Mothers of Syncretism--Isis,
Tanit, Cybele, Demeter--and all the mysteries of birth and pain, and
finally drew them into herself. For Irenæus she is the Eve of a new
mankind. Origen champions her continued virginity. By giving birth to
Redeemer-God it is _she_ really who has redeemed the world. Mary the
“Theotokos” (she who bare God) was the great stumbling-block for the
Christians outside the Classical frontier, and it was the doctrinal
developments of this idea that led Monophysites and Nestorians to break
away and re-establish the pure Jesus-religion.[375] But the Faustian
Culture, again, when it awoke and needed a symbol whereby to express
its primary feeling for Infinity in time and to manifest its sense of
the succession of generations, _set up the “Mater Dolorosa” and not the
suffering Redeemer_ as the pivot of the German-Catholic Christianity of
the Gothic age; and for whole centuries of bright fruitful inwardness
this woman-figure was the very synthesis of Faustian world-feeling and
the object of all art, poetry, and piety. Even to-day in the ritual and
the prayers of the Roman Catholic Church, and above all in the thoughts
of its people, Jesus takes second place after the Madonna.[376]
Along with the Mary-cult there arose the innumerable cults of the
saints, which certainly exceeded in number those of the antique
place-gods; when the Pagan Church finally expired, the Christian had
been able to absorb the whole store of local cults in the form of the
veneration of saints.
Paul and Mark were decisive in yet another matter of inestimably
wide import. It was a result of Paul’s mission that, contrary to all
the initial probabilities, Greek became the language of the Church
and--following the lead of the first Gospel--of a sacred _Greek_
literature. Let the reader consider what this meant, in one way and
another. The Jesus Church was artificially separated from its spiritual
origins and attached to an alien and scholarly element. Touch with the
folk-spirit of the Aramæan motherland was lost. Thenceforward both
the cult-Churches possessed the same language, the same conceptual
traditions, the same book-literature from the same schools. The far
less sophisticated Aramaic literatures of the East--the truly Magian,
written and thought in the language of Jesus and his companions--were
cut off from cooperating in the life of the Church. They could not
be read, they dropped out of sight, and finally they were forgotten
altogether. After all, notwithstanding that the Persian Scriptures were
set down in Avestan and the Jewish in Hebrew, the language of their
authors and exegetes; the language of the whole Apocalyptic from which
the teachings of Jesus, and secondarily the teachings about Jesus,
sprang; the language, lastly, of the scholars of all the Mesopotamian
universities--was Aramaic. All this vanished from the field of view, to
be replaced by Plato and Aristotle, both of whom were taken up, worked
upon in common, and misunderstood in common by the Schoolmen of the two
cult-Churches.
A final step in this direction was attempted by a man who was
the equal of Paul in organizing talent and greatly his superior
in intellectual creativeness, but who was inferior to him in the
feeling for possibilities and actualities, and consequently failed to
achieve his grandly conceived schemes--Marcion.[377] He saw in Paul’s
creation and its consequences only the basis on which to found the
true religion of salvation. He was sensible of the absurdity of two
religions that were unreservedly at war with one another possessing
the same Holy Writ--namely, the _Jewish_ canon. To us to-day it seems
almost inconceivable that this should have been, but in fact it was
so, for a century--but we have to remember what a sacred text meant
in every kind of Magian religiousness. In these texts Marcion saw the
real “conspiracy against the truth” and the most urgent danger for
the doctrines intended by Jesus and, in his view, not yet actualized.
Paul the prophet had declared the Old Testament as fulfilled and
concluded--Marcion the founder pronounced it defeated and cancelled. He
strove to cut out everything Jewish, down to the last detail. From end
to end he was fighting nothing but Judaism. Like every true founder,
like every religiously creative period, like Zarathustra, the prophets
of Israel, like the Homeric Greeks, and like the Germans converted to
Christianity, he transformed the old gods into defeated powers.[378]
Jehovah as the Creator-God, the Demiurge, is the “Just” _and therefore
the Evil_: Jesus as the incarnation of the Saviour-God in this evil
creation is the “alien”--that is, the good Principle.[379] The
foundation of Magian, and in particular Persian, feeling is perfectly
unmistakable here. Marcion came from Sinope, the old capital of that
Mithradatic Empire whose religion is indicated in the very name of its
kings. Here of old, too, the Mithras cult had originated.
But to the new doctrine properly belonged new Scriptures. The “Law
and Prophets” which had hitherto been canonical for the whole of
Christendom was the _Bible of the Jewish God_, and in fact it had
just been given final shape as such by the Synedrion at Jabna.
Thus, it was a Devil’s book that the Christian had in his hands,
and Marcion, therefore, now set up against it the Bible of the
Redeemer-God--likewise an assemblage and ordering of writings that had
hitherto been current in the community[380] as simple edification-books
without canonical claims. In place of the Torah he puts the--_one and
true_--Gospel, which he builds up uniformly out of various separate,
and, in his view, corrupted and falsified, Gospels. In place of the
Israelite prophets he sets up the Epistles of the _one prophet of
Jesus_, who was Paul.
Thus Marcion became the real creator of the New Testament. But for
that reason it is impossible to ignore the mysterious personage,
closely related to him, who not long before had written the Gospel
“according to John.” The intention of this writer was neither to
amplify nor to supersede the Gospels proper; what he did--and, unlike
Mark, consciously did--was to create something quite new, _the first
sacred book_ of Christianity, the Koran of the new religion.[381] The
book proves that this religion was already conceived of as something
complete and enduring. The idea of the immediately impending end of
the world, with which Jesus was filled through and through and which
even Paul and Mark in a measure shared, lies far behind “John” and
Marcion. Apocalyptic is at an end, and Mysticism is beginning. Their
content is not the teaching of Jesus, nor even the Pauline teaching
about Jesus, but the enigma of the universe, the World-Cavern. There
is here no question of a Gospel; not the figure of the Redeemer, but
the principle of the Logos, is the meaning and the means of happening.
The childhood story is rejected again; a god is not “born,” he is
“there,” and wanders in human form over the earth. And this god is a
Trinity--God, the Spirit of God, the Word of God. This sacred book
of earliest Christianity contains, for the first time, the Magian
problem of “Substance,” which dominated the following centuries to
the exclusion of everything else and finally led to the religion’s
splitting up into three churches. And--what is significant in more
respects than one--the solution of that problem to which “John” stands
closest is that which the Nestorian East stood for as the true one. It
is, in virtue of the Logos idea (Greek though the word happens to be)
the “easternmost” of the Gospels, and presents Jesus, emphatically not
as the bringer of the final and total revelation, but as the second
envoy, who is to be _followed by a third_ (the Comforter, Paraclete, of
John xiv, 16, 26; xv, 26). This is the astounding doctrine that Jesus
himself proclaims, and the decisive note of this enigmatic book. Here
is unveiled, quite suddenly, the faith of the Magian East. If the Logos
does not go, the Paraclete[382] cannot come (John xvi, 7), but between
them lies the last Æon, the rule of Ahriman (xiv, 30). The Church of
the Pseudomorphosis, ruled by Pauline intellect, fought long against
the John Gospel and gave it recognition only when the offensive, darkly
hinted doctrine had been covered over by a Pauline interpretation.
The real state of affairs is disclosed in the Montanist movement
(Asia Minor, 160) which harked back to oral tradition and proclaimed
in Montanus the manifested Paraclete and the end of the world. Its
popularity was immense. Tertullian went over to it at Carthage in 207.
About 245 Mani,[383] who was intimately in touch with the currents of
Eastern Christianity,[384] cast out the Pauline, human Jesus as a demon
and confessed the Johannine Logos as the true Jesus, but announced
himself as the Paraclete of the fourth Gospel. In Carthage, Augustine
became a Manichæan, and it is a highly suggestive fact that both
movements finally fused with Marcionism.
To return to Marcion himself, it was he who carried through the idea
of “John” and created a Christian Bible. And then, verging on old
age, when the communities of the extreme west recoiled from him in
horror,[385] he set out to build the masterly structure of his own
Redeemer-Church.[386] From 156 to 190 this was a power, and it was only
in the following century that the older Church succeeded in degrading
the Marcionites to the rank of heretics. Even so, in the broad East and
as far out as Turkestan, it was still important at a much later date,
and it ended, in a way deeply significant of its essential feeling, by
fusing with the Manichæans.[387]
Nevertheless, though in the fullness of his conscious superiority
he had underestimated the _vis inertiæ_ of existing conditions,
his grand effort was not in vain. He was, like Paul before him and
Athanasius after him, the deliverer of Christianity at a moment when
it threatened to break up, and the grandeur of his idea is in no
wise diminished by the fact that union came about in opposition to,
instead of through, him. The early Catholic Church--that is, the
_Church of the Pseudomorphosis_--arose in its greatness only about
190, and then it was in self-defence against the Church of Marcion
and with the aid of an organization taken from that Church. Further,
it replaced Marcion’s Bible by another of similar structure--Gospels
and apostolic Epistles--which it then proceeded to combine with the
Law and the Prophets in one unit. And finally, this act of linking
the two Testaments having in itself settled the Church’s attitude
towards Judaism, it proceeded to combat Marcion’s third creation, his
Redeemer-doctrine, by making a start with a theology of its own on the
basis of _his_ enunciation of the problem.
This development, however, took place on Classical soil, and,
therefore, even the Church that arose in opposition to Marcion and his
anti-Judaism was looked upon by Talmudic Jewry (whose centre of gravity
lay entirely in Mesopotamia and its universities) as a mere piece of
Hellenistic paganism. The destruction of Jerusalem was a conclusive
event that in the world of fact no spiritual power could nullify. Such
is the intimacy of inward relationship between waking-consciousness,
religion, and speech that the complete severance after 70 of the Greek
Pseudomorphosis and the Aramaic (that is, the truly Arabian) region
was bound to result in the formation of two distinct domains of Magian
religious development. On the Western margin of the young Culture the
Pagan cult-Church, the Jesus-Church (removed thither by Paul), and the
Greek-speaking Judaism of the Philo stamp were in point of language and
literature so interlocked that the last-named fell into Christianity
even in the first century, and Christianity and Hellenism combined to
form a _common_ early philosophy. In the Aramaic-speaking world from
the Orontes to the Tigris, on the other hand, Judaism and Persism
interacted constantly and intimately, each creating in this period
its own strict theology and scholastic in the Talmud and the Avesta;
and from the fourth century both these theologies exercised _the most
potent influence upon the Aramaic-speaking Christendom that resisted
the Pseudomorphosis_, so that finally it broke away in the form of the
Nestorian Church.
Here in the East the difference, inherent in every human
waking-consciousness, between sense-understanding and
word-understanding--and, therefore between eye and letter--led up to
purely Arabian methods of mysticism and scholasticism. The apocalyptic
certainty, “Gnosis” in the first-century sense, that Jesus intended to
confer,[388] the divining contemplation and emotion, is that of the
Israelite prophets, the Gathas, Sufism, and we have it recognizable
still in Spinoza, in the Polish Messiah Baal Shem[389] and in Mirza
Ali Mohammed, the enthusiast-founder of Bahaism, who was executed in
Teheran in 1850. The other way, “Paradosis,” is the characteristically
Talmudic method of word-exegesis, of which Paul was a master;[390] it
pervades all later Avestan works, the Nestorian dialectic,[391] the
entire theology of Islam alike.
On the other side, the Pseudomorphosis is single and whole both in its
Magian believing acceptance (Pistis) and its metaphysical introversion
(Gnosis).[392] The Magian belief in its Westerly shape was formulated
for the Christians by Irenæus and, above all, by Tertullian, whose
famous aphorism “_Credo quia absurdum_” is the very summation of this
certainty in belief. The Pagan counterpart is Plotinus in his Enneads
and even more so Porphyry in his treatise _On the Return of the Soul to
God_.[393] But for the great schoolmen of the Pagan Church too, there
were Father (Nus), Son, and the middle Being, just as already for Philo
the Logos had been first-born Son and second God. Doctrines concerning
ecstasy, angels and demons, and the dual substance of soul were freely
current amongst them, and we see in Plotinus and Origen, both pupils
of the same master, that the scholasticism of the Pseudomorphosis
consisted in the development of Magian concepts and thoughts, by
systematic transvaluation of the texts of Plato and Aristotle.
The characteristic _central idea of the whole thought of the
Pseudomorphosis is the Logos_,[394] in use and development its faithful
image. There is no possibility here of any “Greek,” in the sense of
Classical, influence; there was not a man alive in those days whose
spiritual disposition could have accommodated the smallest trace of
the Logos of Heraclitus and the Stoa. But, equally, the theologies
that lived side by side in Alexandria were never able to develop in
full purity the Logos-notion as they meant it, whereas both in Persian
and Chaldean imaginings--as Spirit or Word of God--and in Jewish
doctrine--as Ruach and Memra--it played a decisive part. What the
Logos-teaching in the West did was to develop a Classical formula,
by way of Philo and the John Gospel (the enduring effect of which on
the West was its mark upon the schoolmen) not only into an element
of Christian mysticism, but, eventually, into a dogma.[395] This
was inevitable. This dogma which _both_ the Western Churches held,
corresponded, on the side of knowledge, to that which, on the side of
faith, was represented _both by_ the syncretic cults and the cults of
Mary and the Saints. And against the whole thing, dogma and cult, the
feeling of the East revolted from the 4th century on.
For the eye the history of these thoughts and feelings is repeated
in the history of Magian architecture.[396] _The basic form of the
Pseudomorphosis is the Basilica_, which was known to the Jews of the
West and to the Hellenistic sects of the Chaldeans even before the time
of Christ. As the Logos of the John Gospel is a Magian fundamental in
Classical shape, so the Basilica is a Magian room whose inner walls
correspond to the outer surfaces of the old Classical temple, the
cult-building introverted. The architectural form of the pure East is
the _cupola building, the Mosque_, which without doubt existed long
before the oldest Christian Churches in the temples of the Persians
and Chaldeans, the synagogues of Mesopotamia, and probably the temples
of Saba as well. The attempts to reconcile East and West in the
Church Councils of the Byzantine period were finally symbolized in
the mixed form of the domed basilica. For this item of the history of
ecclesiastical architecture is really another expression of the great
change that set in with Athanasius and Constantine, the last great
champions of Christianity. The one created the firm western dogma
and also Monasticism, into whose hands dogma gradually passed from
those of the ageing schools. The other founded the State of Christian
nationality, to which likewise the name of “Greek” passed in the end.
And of this transition the domed basilica is the symbol.