Rescuing Human Rights from Human Beings

"La Scapagliata," by Leonardo da Vinci, ca. 1500

The whole civilized world takes the notion of "human rights" for granted. Ask an American if he or she has rights and a doctor's hammer below the knee couldn't provoke such an instant and reflexive response. “Of course I have rights!” (Why would you even ask?) Probe a little bit deeper and ask one of those obnoxious "why" questions and you may possibly get "It's in the Constitution." Pursue it further and ask if it would be okay if a Constitutional amendment took away a right like the freedom of speech. You'll either get stony silence or, if this pedestrian is unusually clever (or unusually good at parroting his professors), an appeal to "humanity." People have human rights because they're human beings. It's circular, of course, but, then, didn't Plato believe that the circle was the most perfect of shapes?

Fantastic as it sounds, we're supposed to believe that this rights-by-virtue-of-humanity argument is sufficient.The only problem with it is that an individual who is the sole owner of his rights (as opposed to being “endowed” with his rights) can forever give them away if he or she so chooses – and if history is any guide, he or she often so chooses. Rights that can be given away at whim are, in reality, no rights at all. The government may as well have absolute jurisdiction if it only refuses to infringe on its citizens’ rights when it’s convenient. An even more fundamental problem with basing rights in humanity itself is our era’s postmodernism. You’re telling me there’s no such thing as absolute right and wrong, but an African tribesman still has an absolute right to food, water and condoms? The absurdity is self-evident and goes a long way in explaining why nothing akin to individual rights was ever recognized until the coming of Christianity, and has receded whenever and wherever the tides of the Gospel have ebbed.

One would think this would be obvious to anyone who bothered to take the most cursory glance at the historical record. Even ancient Greece and Rome, where conceptions of humanistic individualism reached their zenith, had no such concept as individual rights. Plato spoke of the importance of the polis as the source of a kind of communitarian right. Romans emphasized the freedom granted by a just legal system. One searches ancient laws in vain for anything resembling our modern versions of individual rights. Slavery was never prohibited anywhere in the ancient world; in fact, it served as the fundamental basis of those societies. Plato and Aristotle both believed that certain people were meant to be slaves by their very nature. The rest of the world was even worse. Most non-Western languages don't even have a word for freedom.

Only with the coming of Christianity did people begin to recognize that all of mankind is made in the imago dei – the image of God—and therefore deserving of certain rights. In the words of the Apostle Paul in Colossians 3, “there is no Gentile or Jew…barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.” Christians in early Rome shocked their pagan rulers by adopting the children Romans left out in the elements to die. Over the centuries, Christianity persistently eroded the philosophical underpinnings that had allowed slavery to survive. Significantly, the first widespread movement against the slave trade began, not under the auspices of Platonists, but under a Christian queen of France, Bathilda. Charlemagne was opposed to slavery; Pope Callistus himself had been a slave. Abogard, Anselm and Wulfstan and other luminaries of the medieval church all campaigned against the existence of the institution. As Rodney Stark has written, “The theological conclusion that slavery is sinful has been unique to Christianity.”

The Protestant Reformation’s rediscovery of the believer’s direct relationship to God launched a whole new inquiry into individual rights, particularly vis a vis government. If an individual is justified by his or her faith and not by physically going through a sacrament, the logic went, then no person can force salvation on another. This led to the formal enumeration of the right of conscience, and by logical extension, the rights of speech and the press, where conscience was expressed, challenged and forged. Religious thinkers like the Protestant theologian Hugo Grotius applied the principles of Christianity when theorizing about international law. Regardless of culture, government or race, people everywhere possessed certain rights because they possessed a common Creator. In the 17th century, John Locke’s theory of government went so far as to assert that political bodies are instituted for the express purpose of protecting the God-given rights of individuals. From here it was a short step to the Declaration of Independence. The distinctly Christian idea of human rights now also became a part of civic religion, with all the mixed blessings that entailed.

All our modern ideas on this subject can therefore be traced back to Christian theology, which alone has birthed, and can alone sustain, so sweeping an idea as the dignity of the entire human race. It’s all too easy to view this Christian accomplishment in a vacuum, as many American do today. Most people have never considered that humanitarianism, foreign aid, abolition and systematic resistance to tyranny have only ever existed in countries touched by Christianity. As Christianity fizzles out in this country, we should expect to see our ideas of human rights—already so twisted, mutable and vacuous that we call abortion a fundamental right—die out, too.

Straightening Crooked Judgments

By the early 6th century B.C., the people of Athens were embarking on a course free of monarchy. Without a king, a maelstrom of ambition ensued. Plutarch tells us of a struggle between the people of the hills who clamored for democracy, and those of the urban valleys who sought the protection of an oligarchy. The universally admired aristocrat Solon, full of poetic sparkle, seized this deadlock to make promises of "straightening crooked judgments" and equal justice for all. Shouts of acclamation from rich and poor alike made him dictator for a year. Solon quickly took control over the city's olive oil producers and banned the selling of cereal crops abroad so that they could instead feed Athenians. It didn't matter to Solon whether or not this meant bankrupting the cereal farmers. Solon's most radical reform was the abolition of the commoners' debts. Not only usurers, but all creditors, saw their money forcibly disappear as it was redistributed to the poor. Abuse was rife. The annals tell us of several of Solon's friends who anticipated this policy by taking out loans to buy swathes of land in the very hours before debts were to be eradicated.

Several centuries later we can see Rome's reformers treading the same proverbial road to hell paved with good intentions. As the Republican armies haphazardly acquired lands abroad, and as the Equestrians and Populares sought more influence in government, the Senate became divided. A starry-eyed reformer named Tiberius Gracchus arose from among the governing class. Tiberius had traveled throughout the colonies and had come to identify the financial plight of farmers as Rome's greatest problem. Encouraged by two Greek scholars, Tiberius presented a proposal to seize the lands of Rome's noble families and spread them to the lower classes. The tribune Octavius became the voice of the aristocrats' furor at this blatantly unjust scheme. But democracy, then as now, knew no law. Tiberius simply held an unconstitutional election where the Roman mobs deposed Octavius. After even this, the measure was not to pass. Tiberius was killed by rioting senators; his brother Gaius followed him when he attempted to carry out the very same plan. Robbing the rich to give to the poor was something that Romans were not yet anesthetized to.

So much for the celebrated ancient reformers. To find an example of reform that was fair to all, regardless of the money they had or didn't have, it's necessary to look beyond the West. We now turn to the story of the exiles' return to Israel. Although the Israelites astonished their neighbors by reconstructing Jerusalem's walls, problems still abounded. The fields that had lain un-tilled for so long could not immediately bear a harvest. This plunged farmers into debt as they enslaved their children in order to get grain. The governor, Nehemiah, recognized the property of all men as sacrosanct. Instead of using his power to force the redistribution of weath, he relied on the Israelites' fear of the Lord to prompt their voluntarism. Nehemiah exhorted the noblemen to restore the fields, vineyards, sons and daughters that had been taken from the poor, lest they all become an object of scorn amongst their neighbors. As one, the nobility disavowed usury and restored what they had taken. Unlike Solon's bankrupting of Athens' creditors, or Tiberius Gracchus' socialistic seizure of private property, this manner of reform didn't entail taking at sword point from those who had in order to give to those who had not. It required a people who feared the Lord, and an understanding that only by encouraging man's free will, his voluntary effort, can good ever be done. Socialism knows no higher law than the here and now, and so it compels what is right. The fact that it creates poverty by grinding down the rich reminds one of Proverbs 12:10: "Even the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel."