The Inquisition and iniquity: burning heretics or history: the Inquisition, used by atheists to revile Christians, was not a Catholic killing machine, but a fairly successful attempt to save lives from secular "justice.".
Some myths are innocent, such as a young George Washington having replied when asked about cutting down the cherry tree, "I cannot tell a lie." Others reflect the technique of the Big Lie. And when the Nazis promulgated the myth of "positive Christianity," which portrayed Jesus as a Nordic character fighting a Jewish establishment, it was to be expected from a group preaching Aryan superiority and Judaic persecution. Likewise, when Barack Obama's erstwhile Trinity United Church taught Black Liberation Theology and that Jesus was a black rebel fighting an oppressive white Roman establishment, it also was to be expected from a group preaching black superiority and white persecution.
Yet while the latter is believed by only a small group, this isn't because the lie isn't big but because its sympathetic subculture is small. But when the issue is the spirit of our age--which is militant secularism--it's a different matter. Thus do millions of educated people believe that Pope Pius XII was a Nazi collaborator, even though Jewish sources credit him with saving more than 800,000 Jews from the Holocaust. * And thus is it a modern narrative that the Crusades were efforts by rapacious knights and imperialistic popes to convert a peaceful Muslim world, even though we know that they were defensive actions designed to stave off Islamic aggression. [dagger] Big lies have big bases of believers when they attack the secular world's favorite whipping boy: Christianity.
But while the Crusades and Pius myths are merely cats-o'-nine-tales designed for this purpose, there may be an even taller tale. Because recent scholarship tells us that the dark stories of the Inquisitions--those medieval church entities charged with investigating heresy--are themselves more fiction than fact.
Such an assertion may shock many. Like "McCarthyism," "inquisition" has become a term that epitomizes intolerance, tyranny, and the squelching of free expression. Moreover, stories of Inquisition barbarity date back much further than the Crusade myth, whose seeds weren't sown till the 19th century. For instance, a man writing under the pseudonym Reginaldus Gonzalvus Montanus described the Spanish Inquisition thus in his 1567 document A Discovery and Plain Declaration of Sundry and Subtill Practices of the Holy Inquisition of Spain: "A court without allegiance to any earthly authority, a bench of monks without appeal. There is nothing else in the world to go beyond them in their most devilish examples of tyranny. Indeed, they do so far exceed all barbarousness, a man cannot more aptly liken them than to that they most closely resemble and from whence they proceed: their sire, Satan himself." Now, this certainly is a thorough condemnation, but is it perhaps a bit too thorough? Does it seem a bit too infused with a fervor that could lend itself to fiction making? And given that subsequent Inquisitiqn histories were strongly influenced by Montanus' claims, that its imagery has colored all Inquisitions--and that the narrative now aligns perfectly with our militant-secular spirit of the age--we perhaps should wonder if it is more agreed-upon myth than matter of fact.
Critical of Catholicism
The first myth that should be addressed is the notion that Inquisitions were a purely Catholic phenomenon. In point of fact, there were Protestant Inquisitions after the Reformation, and both Luther and Calvin maintained that the state had a right to protect society by ridding it of false religion. Nor were such efforts a solely Christian, medieval, or European phenomenon. As The Dublin Review wrote in its chapter "The Inquisition" in 1850:
Plato, in his tenth book on Laws, lays it down as one of the duties of the magistrate to punish all blasphemers and unbelievers of the national religion. Charondas, of Catana, the celebrated lawgiver of Thurium, enacted a similar law. Diopithes introduced an equally stringent enactment at Athens.... It was the same in Rome, even in its most advanced stage of enlightenment and intellectual cultivation.... One of the laws of the Twelve Tables, prohibited the worship of foreign gods without public authority. A similar law is recited by Cicero ... and Cicero lays it down as an indisputable principle, that the ceremonies and dogmas of religion are to be maintained by the arm of the law, even through the infliction of capital punishment.
This is why the Athenian Socrates was forced to drink the hemlock for, in part, "mocking the gods." It is part of the reason why the Romans persecuted Christians and suppressed Judaism as well. And the same intolerant spirit could be seen in every belief
The first clue as to the truth here may be found in a discrepancy between claims against the Inquisitions and the timing of the latter's inception. After all, we're told that the Catholic Church was bent on persecuting heretics, yet it took her until 1184--more than 1,000 years after her birth--to institute the first Inquisition (which was in southern France). And it wasn't as if heretics were previously in short supply. In the fifth century, for instance, Arian Christian Vandals began conquering Roman and Catholic North Africa, persecuting Catholics in the process and sometimes giving them the choice of conversion or death (church father Augustine of Hippo died during the Vandal siege of his city in 430). And even when Roman Emperor Justinian reconquered North Africa in 534, the church saw no need for an Inquisition to root out closet Arians. So what happened 600 years later? Did heretics become such a problem that the church felt compelled to act?
In point of fact, heretics were already taking it on the chin--from the state. Heresy was generally a capital offense under secular law. St. Louis University history professor Thomas F. Madden explained why in his article "The Real Inquisition: Investigating the Popular Myth," writing:
To understand the Inquisition we have to remember that the Middle Ages were, well, medieval. We should not expect people in the past to view the world and their place in it the way we do today. (You try living through the Black Death and see how it changes your attitude.) For people who lived during those times, religion was not something one did just at church. It was science, philosophy, politics, identity, and hope for salvation. It was not a personal preference but an abiding and universal truth. Heresy, then, struck at the heart of that truth. It doomed the heretic, endangered those near him, and tore apart the fabric of community.
Consequently, writes Madden, "Heresy was a crime against the state. Roman law in the Code of Justinian made it a capital offense. Rulers, whose authority was believed to come from God, had no patience for heretics. Neither did common people, who saw them as dangerous outsiders who would bring down divine wrath."
In other words, heresy was somewhat analogous to treason. And who judged traitors? The government did. And this is precisely what happened to those accused of heresy in medieval times: They would be brought before the local lord for judgment. You can imagine the problems this presented. Not only might nobles be reluctant to devote the time necessary to assess a case fairly, but they had little if any theological training and were often arbitrary, capricious, and heavy-handed; they were hardly suited to judge whether a person really was a heretic or some hapless soul accused by enemies seeking revenge. The result was that many innocent people were tortured and killed.
So the church didn't have to worry about heretics, as the secular authorities were already suppressing them with vigor. But the church was worried about heretics--about their being treated unfairly.
The startling fact--the Big Truth hidden by the Big Lie--is that Inquisitions were initially instituted as works of mercy designed to stop unjust punishments and executions. As Madden explains, while secular powers viewed heretics as "traitors to God and the king" who "deserved death," to the church they were simply "lost sheep who had strayed from the flock." As such, the pope and bishops had an obligation to be good shepherds and provide them with the opportunity to avoid severe punishment and continued community ostracism.
It should be emphasized again here that heresy was a capital offense only under the state, not the church. The church's goal was to seek the truth behind accusations. This is why the institutions developed for that purpose wore a label with the root "inquire," which means "to ask"; and why, as the Online Etymology Dictionary tells us, inquisitor is a Latin word meaning "'searcher, examiner,' in law, 'an investigator, collector of evidence."
This isn't what you generally learn in schools, hear from the media, or see portrayed on television, but the proof is in the pudding. The aforementioned Dublin Review made this case already 163 years ago, and Henry Kamen of the Higher Council for Scientific Research in Barcelona, Spain, did so even more thoroughly in his groundbreaking 1965 book The Spanish Inquisition. And with the investigation of Spanish Inquisition files in the 990s and the opening of Vatican records in 1998, eyes have been opened further. Note here that, unlike lords who might sentence an accused heretic to death and then eat dinner, inquisitors kept meticulous files; in fact, every single case handled by the Spanish Inquisition in its 350-year history has its own file on record. And what do those open eyes see? An 800-page study of the Vatican files compiled in 1998 by 60 historians and other experts from around the world concluded that when compared to secular courts of its day, the Inquisition was positively benign. Contrary to myth, most accused heretics were not executed, but, rather, were acquitted or had their sentences suspended. And most of those found guilty were allowed to do penance and integrate themselves back into society. As Italian history professor and the editor of the study, Agostino Borromeo, explained, writes the Catholic News Agency:
"For a long time, judgments were confused with death sentences, and it was said that 100,000 were executed [during the Spanish Inquisition]--a figure completely unreal. Although some were sentenced to prison or to the galleys, most were given spiritual sentences: pilgrimages, penances, prayers, etc." Asked about the punishment used by Inquisitions in other countries, Borromeo said that "between 1551 and 1647, it [sic] Italian court of Aquileia condemned only 0.5% of accused to death. On the other hand, the Portuguese Inquisition between 1450 and 1629 condemned to death 5.7% of its 13,255 cases." Borromeo added that the total number of cases in the entire history of the Inquisition which resulted in death sentences is around 2%.
The notorious Spanish Inquisition, by the way, comes in at just about the average: 1.8 percent.
Yet even more perspective is needed. It must be reiterated that the church did not rate heresy a capital crime--the state did. So contrary to Hollywood fiction, Inquisitions did not burn heretics. And a good case in point is that of Jacques de Molay, the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar, who, along with the rest of his order, was accused of heresy (it's likely that their only sin was lending King Philip IV of France more money than he was willing to pay back). The king had him burned at the stake in 1314 without the bishops' and pope's approval--by way of an Inquisition or otherwise--and despite their lobbying for leniency.
Inquisitions, however, were far more professional operations whose task was to assess evidence and render judgments. And while inquisitors would no doubt have spared Molay, if a heretic was unbending and obstinate, he would have to be excommunicated and released to the government. Nonetheless, as Madden puts it, "The simple fact is that the medieval Inquisition saved uncounted thousands of innocent (and even not-so-innocent) people who would otherwise have been roasted by secular lords or mob rule."
But what of torture? It's true that inquisitors would occasionally resort to it to extract information. But before providing specifics, perspective is again necessary. As the BBC (hardly a font of Christian piety or conservative ideological purity) stated in its 1994 documentary The Myth of the Spanish Inquisition (MSI), "During the same [Inquisition] time period in the rest of Europe, hideous physical cruelty was commonplace. In England you could be executed for damaging shrubs in public gardens. If you returned to Germany from banishment, you could have your eyes gouged out. In
France, you could be disemboweled for sheep stealing." In fact, even Enlightenment giant Thomas Jefferson, much later in history, prescribed draconian measures. As he wrote in A Bill for Proportioning Crimes and Punishments, "Whosoever shall be guilty of Rape, Polygamy, or Sodomy with man or woman shall be punished, if a man, by castration, if a woman, by cutting thro' the cartilage of her nose a hole of one half inch diameter at the least."
Despite this, it was perhaps in the Inquisitions that torture was used least. As Henry Kamen said when appearing in the MSI, "We find that comparing the Inquisition, merely in Spain with other tribunals, that the Inquisition used torture less than other tribunals. And if you compare the Inquisition with tribunals in other countries, we find that the Inquisition has a [very clean] record with respect to torture." The MSI elaborated:
Kamen expanded on this last point, saying:
Ironically, the Inquisition had probably the best jails in Spain .... Let me take a quotation from the inquisitors in Barcelona in the middle of the 16th century, when they were asked to report on the state of their prisons and they said, "Our prisons are full." But then they complained to their bosses in Madrid, "We don't know where to send the leftover prisoners we have; we cannot send them to the city jails because the city jails are overcrowded, and there they are dying at the rate of 20 a week."
In fact, so superior were Inquisition jails that there were "instances of prisoners in secular criminal courts blaspheming in order to get into the Inquisition prison to escape the maltreatment they received in the secular prison," said another MSI-featured expert, Northern Illinois University history professor Stephen Haliczer.
Inquisition jurisprudence was superior as well. Just consider how the Roman Inquisition, established in 1588 by Pope Sixtus V, started to bring modernity to the Middle Ages. As scholar John Tedeschi points out in The Prosecution of Heresy: Collected Studies on the Inquisition in Early Modern Italy, the Roman Inquisition gave the accused a right to counsel and would even provide him an attorney, and a notarized copy of the charges would be available so that a defense could be formulated in advance. Secular courts at the time offered none of these rights and protections. In fact, so ahead of its time was the Roman Inquisition that, Tedeschi writes, "It may not be an exaggeration to claim ... that in several respects the Holy Office was a pioneer in judicial reform."
This brings us to the next myth. While Montanus and others portrayed inquisitors as shadowy robed monks devilishly chanting Latin in gothic halls, this was more Hollywood than hellacious reality. The truth is that the average inquisitor was an administrator and legal expert. Kamen explained, "They were career men who didn't even have to be priests. In the early period of the Inquisition, we have examples of some who were not even priests; they were simply lawyers trained at the university. And they would use the Inquisition merely as a career that maybe could be a stepping stone to another career." But, as the MSI put it, "Bureaucrats make boring copy."
They make for bad propaganda, too.
Perhaps the silliest myth is that Jews and Muslims feared the wrath of inquisitors bent on converting them. But the fact is that Inquisitions' role was to try those accused of heresy, which is defined as the denial of some of the doctrines of one own faith. Thus, if you're a member of a different faith, you cannot be a heretic. Of course, governments at various times might have decided to expel or persecute those of minority religions, but this wouldn't have been within an Inquisition's scope. For it is clear what a person of a different faith is--and there is no need for inquisition when there is nothing to "inquire" about. Yet it is important to understand where the idea that Inquisitions persecuted Jews came from, and this brings us to the matter of the conversos of Spain.
Spain was unique among European nations. It had been invaded by the Muslim Moors in 711, and most of Iberia (the peninsula comprising Spain and Portugal) was under their control by 750. Christians and Jews then lived in Islamic Iberia as the second-class citizens known as dhimmis, a situation that became far worse in 1172 when fundamentalist Muslims known as Almohads largely took control and gave the dhimmis a choice between conversion and death, causing many of them to emigrate. By this time, however, the Christian effort to reclaim their lands, the reconquista, had been progressing, and it was mostly complete by the late medieval period. This didn't mean Spain was united, however. Muslims still controlled Granada in the 15th century, and the Christians themselves were divided politically.
This began to change with the marriage of King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella I of Castile in October 1469. Being part of a marriage that initiated the unification of their two regions, the monarchs were no doubt intensely focused on eliminating division. Thus did they not only plan to complete the reconquista by retaking Granada, but they also resolved to eliminate internal religious division as well, believing it an impediment to political unity. This is where the conversos--Jews who had converted to Christianity--enter the picture. Suspicious that they were "Judaizing" (practicing Judaism secretly), the monarchs instituted the Spanish Inquisition in 1478. And the rest is history--albeit often the twisted variety.
In other words, unlike earlier Inquisitions, the Spanish Inquisition wasn't a response to unjust adjudication of heresy accusations by secular authorities, but was animated by religious suspicion. Kamen claims that one reason for this was the conversos' failure to assimilate, a phenomenon which he says Spain's Muslim community exhibited as well. 1 would add that if you had been occupied wholly or in part by Muslims for 781 years, it's entirely possible you might be just a tad paranoid about alien religious influence on your soil. And these feelings no doubt only intensified, as the Spanish government expelled the nation's remaining Jews (not the conversos) in 1492 and its last Muslims in 1609. Again, however, while this might have been motivated by the same spirit that created the Spanish Inquisition, it was not the work of the tribunal.
Given the true nature of the Inquisitions, what explains the Montanus myths? Well, note here that when the Spanish Inquisition was first instituted, the rest of Europe congratulated Spain for finally becoming Christian; as the MSI put it, "A new age of Christian unity was said to be dawning." But this lasted for only about 30 years, until that great fissure in Christianity: the Reformation.
Obviously, emotions were running high on both sides after the Reformation in 1517, and the fur was flying. This not only took the form of armed conflict, such as the Battle of Muhlberg in 1547, but also a war of words. And with the Guttenberg printing press having been invented in 1448, it could be waged like never before. Knowing this, Montanus--widely believed to be Spanish Protestant Antonio del Corro--and others used the technology to wage what was perhaps the first truly modern propaganda campaign, spreading a big lie through the first big media.
Yet there were geo-political motivations as well. Not only had the Battle of Muhlberg pitted Spanish Imperial forces against northern European ones, but English-Spanish conflict in the 1580s was running high, causing King Philip II of Spain to plan an invasion of England and leading to the defeat of his armada in 1588. All these conflicts and events--religious and national--occurring at roughly the same time, amounted to a perfect storm of anti-Spanish sentiment in northern European countries. The result was, among other things, the embrace of the Montanus-disgorged "Black Legend," as the myth of the Spanish Inquisition came to be known. And via guilt by association, it came to tarnish other Inquisitions as well.
Yet as time wore on, anti-Spanish sentiment diminished, and the prejudices became more generalized. "The Inquisition" legend would grow and be advanced by anti-Christian movements and entities ranging from the French Revolution (its instigators tried to institute 10-day weeks that omitted Sundays) to the ideologically similar but short-lived Roman Republic of 1849 to today's militant secularists.
Having said this, it's inevitable that some will call this exposition a whitewash, averring that Inquisition transgressions are many but my examples of them few. And, of course, Inquisitions did have different characters in different places, and so did inquisitors. As Johns Hopkins history professor Richard L. Kagan complained in a New York Times review of Kamen's book, Kamen said little about how inquisitors "were not faceless bureaucrats but law graduates with varying interests and career aims" and about the "ploys, like bribes and pleas of insanity" used by defendants. All right, fair enough. But what are we to say about these failings? How is it much different from our legal system today?
And that really is the point. If all critics can respond with is that the Inquisitions were guilty of faults that ever plague man, I can rest my case. Of course, there is still the matter of torture, whose even occasional use we find abhorrent. Yet not only were the inquisitors quite civilized for their time in that area, whatever they did, they didn't employ euphemisms such as "coercive interrogation." It also bears mention that the very cultural relativists who would whitewash human-sacrificing Aztecs as noble savages demonstrate no such charity in their very absolutist attitude toward that age's Europeans, whom they convict under our "values," forgetting, to again quote Thomas Madden, that the "Middle Ages were, well, medieval." But even this misses the mark, as it implies a perhaps unjustified sense of superiority. Note that medieval Christians would no doubt be aghast at our age's rampant abortion, sexual promiscuity, denial of sin, lack of piety, and communist killing fields, not to mention our hate-speech laws--enforced by "inquisitions" called Human Rights Tribunals--used to punish today's "heretics." And, if they could consider our trespasses, perhaps the best we might hope for is that a few of them would shake their heads and say that modernity is, well, modernistic.
But most of all, modernity is of man, with the unchanging nature that implies. So we can be sure that we'll continue to burn inconvenient pages from our history books--and that the Inquisition myth will be agreed upon for a very, very long time to come.
Heresy was somewhat analogous to treason. And who judged traitors? The government did. And this is precisely what happened to those accused of heresy in medieval times: They would be brought before the local lord for judgment.
* Sec the March 15, 2010 TNA article "Pope Pius XII: Hero in the Unmaking."
[dagger] See the February 15. 2010 TNA article "When Christendom Pushed Back."
The first myth is the notion that Inquisitions were a purely Catholic phenomenon. There were Protestant Inquisitions after the Reformation, and both Luther and Calvin maintained that the state had a right to protect society by ridding it of false religion.
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|Title Annotation:||HISTORY--PAST AND PERSPECTIVE|
|Publication:||The New American|
|Date:||Dec 23, 2013|
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