A worthwhile analysis of Jacques Maritain at 1P5.

In all the cacophony over the spreading plague in March, I missed this fine essay by Jerry Salyer on the legacy of the great French Thomist.

Maritain is a cuss word in many trad Catholic circles, despite his steady adherence to the Magisterium of the Church. I readily confess to being a fan, profiting from my reading of the philosopher's works. I think his fellow French layman Etienne Gilson is better still, but I like Maritain. But virtually every time I see Maritain quoted by a traditionalist, he is given the most crabbed and uncharitable reading possible, which is a shame.

Some of the roots of anti-Maritain animosity are found in the soil of the Second World War, which saw France occupied and reduced to a rump Axis satellite whose capital was at Vichy.

[Because I can't avoid an aside in a longer post to save my life:

By the way, a good argument can be made for the de jure legitimacy of Vichy as the heir to the Third Republic--such is done here by historian Julian Jackson, who as an Englishman has no skin in the game. As I sense pearls being clutched, let me swiftly remind readers who are not up on critical legal nuances that legitimacy simply means that the government is properly constituted under the law. It does not mean that all of said government's actions are "legitimate" in a broader moral--or even legal--sense. But it is worth noting that Vichy economic modernization efforts were continued by the Fourth Republic under what was called the Monnet Plan.]

The French Church and its members were as split as the rest of France when it came to the question of allegiance. And in this case, Maritain supported de Gaulle and the great Dominican Thomist Garrigou-Lagrange supported Petain, which destroyed what had been a solid friendship.

Since Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's theology is rightfully (Hint: read him) held in high honor in traditional circles, wagons also circle in defense of the Father against all threats, real or perceived. I confess to also being a fan of de Gaulle, so make of that what you will.

However, it is fair to question whether Maritain's stalwart defense of democracy during the age of totalitarian ascendancy left him unable to see its flaws. And this can be seen in another indictment laid at the pedestal of Maritain's legacy: what can only be described as blind admiration for Saul Alinsky. But while embarrassing, Maritain is only guilty of naivete', mis-reading a man who charmed many into thinking he was something other than a prophet for centralized state power.

Maritain could not see that Alinsky’s “community organizations” were always meant to be substitute churches which were ordered by their very essence to the derogation of the proper authority of the most important of the natural and supernatural mediating societies, namely, the natural family and the Catholic Church. Maritain could only see in Alinsky’s work the coming-into-being of new guilds, along the lines of the medieval guilds, that could put a check on the greed and radical individualism that underlies so much of the practice of free market capitalism. He thought that these organizations could embody the Catholic principle of subsidiarity, so that the grave social injustices of capitalism could be held in control without tyrannical federal intervention. But he failed to realize that these organizations were in fact meant by Alinsky to be stepping-stones to the advent of, and eventual workers for, a centralized power structure that would coercively bring about his dreary, ugly, a-religious concept of social justice. Maritain seems to have failed, in other words, to recognize that it is perilous indeed to make common cause with those who have rejected the religious essence of man. Social justice without a truly Christian, religious foundation is a perversion of social justice.

That analysis jibes with my reading of Maritain: with respect to postwar political and social developments in democratic societies, he read them with a generous Catholic lens. While he easily saw the dangers of openly-totalitarian movements, he was less able to see how the language and processes of democracy could be co-opted by those who did not call themselves communists or fascists, but who had goals which ended in the same neighborhoods. He would see small community organizer movements as analogous to the early bands of disciples from Acts...but was unable to recognize the far different ends toward which such movements strove.

And now to the Salyer piece itself, which carefully weighs defenses and critiques of Maritain, past and contemporary.

To be sure, Maritain speaks appropriately of “correcting and transfiguring” pagan wisdom in one breath, yet in the very next he talks of “triumphing over” and “toppling” it. If the former expression suggests nature’s fulfillment and regeneration through grace — evoking as it does the Thomistic dictum gratia non tollat naturam, sed perficiat — the latter expressions have a decidedly aggressive ring and seem to have slipped into Maritain’s discourse via equivocation. “Correcting” is not “triumphing over”; “transfiguring” is not the same as “toppling.” By the same token, it is worth noting that Maritain countenances the phrase “Greek and pagan,” even though the two adjectives in question are no more synonymous than are “Arab” and “Islamic.” The New Testament is itself written in Greek, after all, and to try to describe in any detail the thought of Saint Augustine without ever alluding to Platonism is rather like trying to understand Dante without making any reference to Virgil. For that matter, with regard to Father Eschmann’s dig about paganism, Maritain’s opponents could just as easily have retorted that it is characteristically gnostic and Protestant to understate the spiritual significance of community, authority, and institutions.

Read the whole piece. It is thoughtful and fair-minded. And then pick up some Maritain for yourself.