The historian Alfred Toynbee once declared that “Communism is a Christian heresy.”
In his 1954 book, “A Study of History,” he wrote that “modern Western civilization had become ‘post-Christian’ or ‘ex-Christian,’ having divorced itself from its religious roots starting in the 17th century. He believed that because the secularized West failed to deliver on its ‘moral debt’ regarding social justice for the poor, Karl Marx — a Western man — created Marxism as a ‘Christian heresy’ designed to offset that Christian failure.”
True, perhaps, but the blame doesn’t lie solely with modern Western civilization. As soon as Christianity was underway, there were problems achieving the aim of social justice for the poor. The story of Ananias and Sapphira is the first example of this. All members of the early Christian church, according to the Book of Acts, “were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.” These two individuals were part of that group, having given the proceeds from the sale of their property to the disciples of Jesus. The hitch was that they misrepresented their commitment to the ideals expressed in that verse, since they were secretly holding back part of their wealth. The result was that when they were confronted with their duplicity, not so much their stinginess, the shock of that discovery led to their sudden deaths.
As Toynbee recognized, early Christianity — and many other faiths as well — have given us a model for socialism. That system is a logical outcome of a belief that our primary motive should be concern for our fellow human beings and not self-enrichment. The singular lack of success in achieving a universal application of that model tells us something about basic human nature.
In my first year at UMass, a macroeconomics professor challenged all budding socialists attending his lecture to prove to him that the first law of economics, called “the law of scarcity,” was only a myth. He offered to place a box outside of his office and into it we should put all things he would list as scarce. If those items appeared in the box, he would concede his error. He listed things like high-quality stereo equipment, gold jewelry, and other items that would be of particular value to his audience.
Needless to say, year after year, he was able to successfully state the truth of his claim. His clever illustration opened my eyes to the fact that our economic system is founded on greed. We want what is scarce, and because of that desire we are willing to part with our assets. The scarcer something is, the more value is placed upon it. The more value placed upon it, the more the person who offers it can ask in return. The only limit to their desire to acquire our assets is the maximum amount we are willing to part with.
The founders of this country were fully aware of human shortcomings. They designed a system that, to the maximum extent possible, would stand up to those shortcomings by pitting everyone’s self-interest against one another on a level playing field with mutually agreed-upon rules. It has worked remarkably well for 250 years.
Does their disregard for a socialist model mean that socialism can’t succeed? I don’t think so. Democratic socialism, as practiced in places like Sweden, has been very successful. The model relies upon the very ingredients that had been discovered by the Founding Fathers. People are self-interested; therefore, a strong, nationally agreed-upon social contract reins in those selfish interests to the benefit of all. The most greedy are restrained from excessive greediness for the good of all, including themselves. Former U.S. Labor Secretary Robert Reich’s catchphrase, “Socialism for the rich, harsh capitalism for the rest of us,” describes the system we now have in the United States, where the deck is stacked in favor of the most greedy. What we need is a fair, new deal of a clean deck.
One irony of our current situation is that those who profess a creed that should lead them to want to “hold everything in common,” and seek a distribution of wealth that gives aid to the “least of these,” are among the loudest voices against it. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Jesus Christ, the one who inspired that creed, told us that no one can serve two masters. If one of those masters is God and the other is money, only one of them can ever be faithfully served, despite all lip service to the contrary.
Philip Lussier is a retired educator who lives in Ashfield.