Faith and/or reason.

WITH THE collective yawn that greeted the two-hundredth anniversary of the French Revolution, and the simultaneous repudiation of Communism around the world, what is left, practically speaking, of the progeny of the modern movement, the eighteenth-century Enlightenment?

Although academics may be excused for padding around the musty halls of history, the 18 conservative intellectuals gathered together by William Rusher and the Claremont Institute to discuss "The Ambiguous Legacy of the Enlightenment" treated the topic as anything but arcane. One point on which there was agreement was that how the questions raised by the Enlightenment are answered today is vital to the future of American society. The link involves the American Founding. Does the Founding's partial reliance on Enlightenment ideas doom the project, by its own logic, to the nihilism of the French Enlightenment?

The conference revolved around two basic attitudes toward the Enlightenment, arising from different understandings of the role of reason and religion in civil society. Those questioning the fundamental stability of the Enlightenment project-principally Ernest van den Haag of Fordham, Richard John Neuhaus of the Institute on Religion and Public Life, and Gerhart Niemeyer of Notre Dame essentially commended St. Anselm's proposition: "I believe, that I may understand." We shall call this group the fideists. Those more favorably disposed toward the Enlightenment-principally Eva Brann of St. John's, Charles Kesler of ClaremontMcKenna and Ralph Lerner of the University of Chicago-amended this proposition to: "I may believe, but I understand." We shall call this group the synthesists.

The first proposition sets forth faith as the ground of reason. Those advancing the second proposition view faith and reason as separate realms, realms to be synthesized on civil matters in order to secure public peace.

For the fideists, the nihilism of the French Revolution was the logical consequence of the Enlightenment understanding of reason. The synthesists view the French Revolution as a deviation from Enlightenment principles.

Neutral Ground?

ENLIGHTENED REASON, the fideists assert, is not neutral ground, no matter how much Enlightened prejudice insists that it is. Enlightened reason, argued Niemeyer, 'is no longer experienced as a partnership between the human soul and the divine inspiration, it is man's exclusive possession. . .Reason' means above all ultimate control." Control over nature, the soul, and the social order. Human power is the central urge of the Enlightenment religion: Enlightenments reason' is a modern myth of human power, a myth eventually generating another myth, that of self-salvation."'

In fact, van den Haag observed, while the Enlightenment version of the myth is modern, it simply re-expresses the habitual Western urge to self-salvation found, for example, in the fifth-century heretic Pelagius, who denied God's authority over the human soul. The councils that condemned Pelagius recognized that if you banish God from the soul, man reaps nothing that smacks of salvation. Rather he reaps, in Niemeyer's words, "only destruction, convulsions, annihilations, oblivions, separations, and loss of common bonds of all kinds."

In contrast, Lerner and Kesler both argued that the problem of 1789 was not that the French pursued Enlightenment reason to its logical conclusion, but that they denied reason. Kesler surveyed John Adams's objections to the French Enlightenment: Adams denounces the Revolution not for being far gone in rationalism, as Burke and most modern conservatives do, but for being irrational. Reason is not the enemy, and therefore he does not ask for a better guide than reason." Lerner made much the same point about Madison and Jefferson, and concluded: "In sum, the Enlightenment in America retained its hope and promise: a private sphere for free consciences. and free markets, a public sphere for securing the conditions for peace and general prosperity."

Both the fideists and the synthesists argue that the principles they forward are the grounds for the limited state and for liberty under law. But while the two sides agree on a host of conservative policies, there is profound disagreement as to the justification for these recommendations.

Weighing in at this point was Neuhaus, with his insightful analysis of the philosopher Richard Rorty. Neuhaus quoted Alasdair MacIntyre's observation:

It was the shared belief of the protagonists of the Enlightenment ... that one and the same set of standards of truth and rationality-indeed of right conduct and adequate aesthetic judgment was not only available to all human beings qua rational beings, but [these standards] were such that no human being qua rational person could deny their authority.

The collapse of the Enlightenment project, Neuhaus urged, occurred with the rejection of standards. Indeed, Rorty, terming himself a liberal ironist," denies any such idea as that there's a reality "out there." All such ideas, whether in the form of theology or metaphysical speculation, are just religious assertions.

Rorty knows there is nothing out there, so he worships nothing. But has Rorty actually stumbled across the neutral ground from which he can judge all the rest of us? Applying Rorty's own skeptical methodology, Neuhaus wondered whether Rorty introduces another religion into the equation, one that truly does worship nothing and can't even answer the question, My not be cruel?"

In one sense the fideists and synthesists join in opposing Rorty's abject irrationalism. In another sense, however, Rorty represents a special problem for those advocating intellectual peace with the Enlightenment. Eva Brann, for example, observed that in the Enlightenment's first expression, "Along with the attacks on religion came the criticism of scholasticism in particular and of metaphysics in general." That is, Rorty represents, not a deviation from the logic of the Enlightenment, but its very telos.

On the other hand, the fideists, with the possible exception of Neuhaus, do not seem to appreciate that the Enlightenment occurred in response to felt needs among large groups of people. To celebrate pre-Enlightenment Christendom in toto is too facile a treatment of those needs as the mere product of intellectual rebellion.

In his opening remarks William Rusher reminded the participants that they were merely at the beginning point in the task of understanding the legacies of the Enlightenment. The conference was an opening foray into questions largely pushed aside during the last generation or so when external threat demanded intellectual as well as physical vigilance.

This was the first in what is intended to be a series of conferences; its purpose was to reopen conservative conversation over basic issues of what America means. The topics of future conferences scheduled by Mr. Rusher and Claremont seek not merely to clarify issues (an endless task) but also to drive the discussion onto new ground: to raise uncomfortable questions and to provide, perhaps, uncomfortable answers.