“Absolute faith corrupts as absolutely as absolute power.”
Eric Hoffer, the “longshoreman philosopher,” said that. His insight raises a timely question during the Lenten season and when there is so much news about the Catholic faith and faith in general. But is Hoffer correct?
First—for those who might not remember Eric Hoffer:
He is the Bronx-born thinker whose ten critically acclaimed books and pithy aphorisms earned him a substantial readership and critical acclaim during the mid-20th century. In February 1983 President Ronald Reagan awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Hoffer was born in 1902 and died in May 1983—three months after receiving the medal. He lived a hard-scrabble life doing odd jobs, working as a crop picker, spending time homeless, and working for years on San Francisco’s docks.
At first glimpse Mr. Hoffer’s observation about faith sounds heretical. It wars with the prodding of clerics who cajole followers to believe “with all their heart, mind, and soul” in the power of God, in the words of the Bible or Koran, in the dogmas and rites of their religions, and, among other things, in the power of prayer, “which can move mountains.”
After all, didn’t Jesus mildly rebuke the apostle Thomas—“Doubting Thomas”—for his skepticism? Perhaps you’ll remember the scriptural account:
After Jesus’ death and resurrection, he appeared to a few followers. Thomas wasn’t among them. When told of the apparition, Thomas declared he would believe that tale only if he could meet Jesus personally and see the nail marks in his hands and feel the spear wound in his side.
Jesus returned when Thomas was around. He invited Thomas to examine his hands and to finger the wound in his side. Thomas did and was convinced.
Jesus said “You believe because you have seen me. Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.” (In some translations the term “happy” is stated as “blessed.”)
In any event, Jesus seems to allow little room for skepticism.
Hoffer, on the other hand, likely would give Doubting Thomas high marks.
Why? Consider the meaning of faith.
Faith is the “confident belief in the truth, value, or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing.” It is “belief that does not rest on logical proof or material evidence.” So states the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language. (Italics and boldface mine.)
Faith has power because believers yield it to the idea, person, or object they vest belief in. Faith is a choice. The believer chooses to accept the validity and trustworthiness of a religion, a political theory, a medical procedure, an invention, a friend--and themselves. Believers reject all arguments or proofs against their choice.
Faith then is a sort of self-induced blindness. It allows or causes us to block consideration of challenging statements and sometimes even thoughts.
It’s easy to see how power corrupts. Think of Hitler, Stalin, Saddam Hussein, and any other dictator who committed horrible crimes, yet maintained a fervent following.
And there are bewildering examples of the power of those who inspire faith.
The Rev Sun Myung Moon, for instance, an electrical engineer from Korea, founded the Unification Church. He called himself “The Messiah,” and said Jesus had failed in his mission, but that he, the Rev. Moon, would fulfill it.
Skeptics might question his qualifications for the job. He divorced one wife, had a child out of wedlock, and remarried a third woman. He was convicted in the United States of tax evasion and conspiracy. He seemed not to live a saintly life. Yet numbers of his disciples—“the Moonies”—begged and sold trinkets on streets and in airports. The Rev. Moon parlayed the funds collected from around the world into successful businesses. He profited hugely and lived lavishly from his followers’ work and donations.
The Rev. Moon’s power was such that tens of thousands of his followers allowed him and his wife to choose spouses for them and to marry them in mass weddings.
Jim Jones didn’t claim to be the Messiah. He was a Marxist and admitted atheist who believed he could sway people to follow his social principles by creating a religion. So he founded the Peoples’ Temple. Eventually he convinced many of his devoted followers to help him create a utopia in Jonestown, Guyana.
The Jonestown story and its unraveling is remarkable, but best remembered because of its ending. As Alan Riding wrote in the New York Times, the tale, “…is a gripping account of how decent people can be taken in by a charismatic and crazed tyrant.”
On November 18, 1978, when reporters and others were demanding an investigation of the Jonestown community and of Jones’ suspected abuses, he took action. He convinced 918 followers to murder their children and commit suicide. He had them drink fruit-flavored cyanide then shot himself. The event shocked the world. It was one of the largest mass suicides in history.
From 1981 to 2006, in Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Sri Lanka some 1,200 persons detonated themselves, murdering 14,599 people. Although a mix of reasons caused the bombers to sacrifice themselves, religion played a prominent part. But whatever the immediate cause, there was fundamental faith that the self- immolation was appropriate. The bombers let themselves believe it.
I suspect Hoffer might say he had no quarrel with belief. He would caution, though, that they shouldn’t let themselves be buffaloed.
Which is just common sense.
----Gus Gribbin
Ø Mr. Riding‘s observation appeared in his October 7, 2011 review of A Thousand Lives: The Untold Story of Hope, Deception, and Survival at Jonestown by Julia Scheeres.
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