“That’s a fair assessment.”
“What does it have to do with Rousseau’s father having lived in this tower?” asked Gary.
“Well, as I said, I went through a phase when I explored religion. One of the things I read was Rousseau. You know he’s viewed by many as the father of socialist thought even though he was a fairly religious man. In today’s world that would be a contradiction of sorts. Do you know anything about his religious views?”
“Didn’t he say, ‘A State has never been founded without religion serving as its base’?”
Angela sat back with a look of mock astonishment on her face.
“I’d heard you Americans were so busy making money and policing the world that you had no time for philosophy. This is a pleasant surprise. Do you think Rousseau was right?”
“You could be asking me two questions here,” replied Gary carefully. “The first one would be whether or not that statement is an accurate reflection of history, in which case I would say that up until the modern era it has been true by and large. In antiquity, every nation has had its own official religion, from the Egyptian and Sumerian pantheons, to those of the Romans and Greeks. In Athens, it was forbidden to introduce strange gods. Socrates was condemned to death for essentially doing just this. Strange religions were frowned upon and those who adhered to them were persecuted and viewed as traitors. Many nations of antiquity proclaimed their kings and emperors to be demi-gods that demanded worship. Religion pays serious political dividends. A fact I’m sure you’re aware of.”
“Rousseau apparently agreed,” she said, chasing the kebab around her plate with her knife. “And, until the modern era, this view was practically universal. Rousseau understood the purpose of the Spanish Inquisition. It was to prevent religious division, not because that was bad in and of itself but because it invariably caused the dissenters to seek a new state where they were in power. The Spanish had just concluded a 700-year war to reclaim their country from the Muslims. When the Muslims refused to assimilate, they were forced to convert to Catholicism, but the priests were never confident the conversions were genuine. And, why should they be? Faith cannot be coerced. So, to resolve the dilemma of their own making, they instituted the Inquisition to smoke out the heretics. That is just pious, or rather impious, politics, not religion. Anyway . . . What is the second interpretation of the question?” she asked.
Gary took a sip of
ayran
.
“Whether or not Rousseau’s statement is
true
. It may be reality, but that does not make it truth. Just because it has always been that way does not mean that it should be.”
Angela cocked her head to the side and screwed up her face.
“That is stating the obvious if I ever heard it.”
“True again. But, if it’s so obvious, how have so many people been duped by it for so long?” he rejoined.
“Simple,” she said. “Classic misdirection. The rulers never actually say that religion and politics are related, they constantly pretend that their religious zeal is sacred and sincere, and hence they are duty-bound to squash dissent.”
“That is an empirical fact,” said Gary, “But, it only happened because these societies violated Rousseau’s principle prohibiting theological intolerance. He said that intolerance of different faiths turned the king into the priest’s executioner, and so all faiths must be tolerated.”
Angela shook her head sadly.
“Yes, but in his view religion is neither true nor false; it is merely functional. A religion’s moral code keeps peace in the community and makes good citizens to line the pockets of their oppressors. It is no wonder Marx embraced atheism and rejected religion.”
“Rousseau was a pragmatist,” offered Gary. “Every religion makes different claims about religious truth. Muslims say Mohammed is the last prophet and Catholics say the Pope is infallible. These details were irrelevant to Rousseau because the important thing was a moral code to provide the cement which holds society together. It is there to ensure a certain kind of behavior, behavior that makes it easier for a ruler to maintain peace and control his subjects. Rousseau spoke quite highly of Islam. He said that combining the office of priest and politician was more efficient because it avoided the complicated relationship the kings of Europe always had with the Church.”
Gary took another bite of kebab.
“I’ve concluded that Rousseau is right,” said Angela wearily. “So, I’ve given up on god.”
She tore off a piece of bread and wrapped a chunk of lamb in it.
“I’ve been where you are, but I eventually reached a different conclusion.”
“How could your conclusion be any different? The facts are the same. Religion is a sham. You have articulated the reasons yourself,” she retorted.
“Yes. But that is assuming God and religion are synonymous. What if they are diametrically opposed to each other?”
“Every priest is on his way to hell,” she said with a smile.
“And maybe they are,” Gary sighed. “Maybe they are.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s what?”
“You say you’ve reached a different conclusion. I want to know why.”
“Have you ever read the New Testament?” he asked
“Yes,” she replied. “It was a few years back, but I read it through a couple of times.”
Gary sat up straighter in his chair, took a deep breath and in the most solemn and somber voice he could muster, said,
“Then, like Socrates of old, allow me to introduce to your Athenian mind a ‘new god.’ And, prepare the hemlock.”
“That would be much too humane for your crime,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Let’s do it through a series of questions then, just like Socrates. Do you remember what Jesus did when the crowd tried to make him king?”
“Yes, he refused.”
“Exactly. Do you remember what he said to Pilate when he was asked whether or not he was King of the Jews?”
“Something like ‘my kingdom is not of the earth.’”
“Right again. Do you remember the people he was most angry with?”
“Wasn’t it the religious people?”
“You’re three for three.”
“You’re asking questions any junior high student might know.”
“Now, for the last and final question, how did he summarize the entire moral code?”
She thought for a moment. “You mean the golden rule?”
“Not exactly. I was actually thinking of something else he said, a quote from the Old Testament. ‘Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’”
“Right. I remember that,” she answered.
“So with these statements as a backdrop, tell me, can we conclude that the kingdom of God he described was apolitical, other-worldly and characterized by love?”
“Well, as a student of history, that is not the picture I get from the pogroms, inquisitions, crusades, jihads, persecutions, witch-hunts, massacres, conquests and cultural imperialism practiced in the name of religion.
“That’s my point,” continued Gary. “Rousseau’s theological tolerance is a pipe dream because, unlike their rulers, the masses must actually believe their religion is true if it is going to work its magic. But, actually believing you are right and everyone else is evil breeds intolerance of the ‘damned’ heathen who won’t accept your dogma.”
“Which, of course,” she said triumphantly, “is why later socialists rejected religion altogether as unnecessary for society. After all, it’s not true. It’s only functional. It leads to intolerance and we can accomplish the same function without it.”
“Really?” Gary replied, “You think there is any ideology that does not end up being the double-edged sword? Ideology only works if people believe it is true and once they do, all other ideologies are wrong and worthy of persecution. Communism was a religion too, and you know how many millions died for it.”
His voice trailed off. They were both silent for a moment. Finally, Gary finished his thought.
“Most ideologues are as dogmatic as any crusader or jihadist ever was. They are often willing to kill if it will further their faith.”
“So, what is your new god Socrates?” she asked sarcastically.
“You may pour the hemlock on the ground, Athenian. I bring you no new god. I only ask that you consider the faith of Abraham, a faith that predates Judaism, Christianity and Islam. In the Middle East, it might be called
hanif.
What if our ideology, our religion, were to love our neighbors as ourselves, to love our enemies, to pray for them and not curse them? What if religion, as it is generally expressed, has nothing to do with God at all? Jesus doesn’t seem to preach it and God doesn’t need it. We have only ourselves to blame if we allow God to be used as ‘social cement.’”
The cell phone in his pocket rang.
CHAPTER
46
A
NKARA
Yusuf breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his wife Leyla approaching the office. Murat saw her coming too and ushered the junior officers towards the door. She was standing there when he opened it.
“It’s good to see you, Leyla. We were just leaving.”
Leyla stepped inside, followed by a security guard who had been carrying her bags. Yusuf nodded his thanks, and the man shut the door as he left. Yusuf kissed Leyla on both cheeks, took her by the arm and led her to a chair in front of his desk.
“Yusuf, are you going to tell me what is going on?”
Yusuf had been working on how to break the news to her for the last hour, but had found no way to soften the blow.
“Darling, I think you could be in danger. You know about the bombings. What you don’t know is that the suicide bomber in the Istanbul blast left a message regarding some evidence we found in the Akçakoca raid last week when Bekir Kaya escaped. His group has claimed responsibility, and they have delivered a thinly veiled message demanding this evidence be returned. We were afraid that they might do something rash.”
“You mean kidnap or kill me to pressure you,” she stated flatly. She was direct and to the point as always.
“We’re just taking precautions, darling. We have no indication they’re planning something like that.”
She closed her eyes and without opening them asked, “Did you have any idea these terrorist attacks were being planned?”
“No, we didn’t”
“That’s comforting,” she responded wryly. “What’s the evidence he wants returned?”
“It’s blackmail material, videos of politicians with prostitutes.”
“Then give it back to them with instructions on how to get the maximum mileage out of the damned things. What do you care if these politicians get sacked and these images get splashed on the front pages?” She was clearly getting angry now. “Serves them right.”
“That’s the problem,” replied Yusuf. “They’ll never make it to the newspaper. The politicians will sell out to protect their reputation, and our government will be even more compromised than it already is.”
The phone on his desk beeped. It was Selda. He pushed the button to put her on speaker.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but Murat says you need to take this call. The man asked for you by name and said you would want to speak with him.”
“Who is it?” asked Yusuf. The fatigue in his voice was obvious. Leyla could tell the stress from his job was wearing him down.