Civilization

Some perceptive comments on the Trump situation

Gabriel Sanchez, at Opus Publicum, has a very perceptive post on the assault launched against Trump by Catholic neocon thought leaders George Weigel and Robert George. (Sanchez is commenting on this piece by Rod Dreher, for your reference.) He concludes,

The whole situation reveals one of the critical flaws in contemporary (American) Catholicism, namely the belief that liberal democracy can still provide the pathway to a better future. It won’t. Although I will be the last man in Michigan to mourn the death of neoconservative Catholic politics, I am fine with elbowing my way to the front of the line to declare that no Catholic in good conscience should support Donald Trump or any of the other disappointing choices on offer this election cycle. Conservative-to-traditional Catholics who support Trump are no less seduced by Americanist ideology than those who commonly (and perhaps thoughtlessly) pull the lever for Democrats on the belief that the latter rigorously uphold Catholic social teaching. Instead of taking this moment in American history as a sign that we have no earthly political home (at the moment), Catholics are at war with one another over which earthly messiah will save us. Better, I think, to recognize our post-political situation and prepare for the storm on the horizon rather than squabble over which brand of liberalism will best satiate our basest longings.

(Emphasis supplied.) Indeed. In the discussion on Twitter over our previous piece on Weigel and George’s attempt to enlist Catholics to save the Republicans from Trump, one person suggested that there is a widespread sense among Catholics that the Republican Party are their agents or friends in Washington. Not so, Sanchez rightly points out.

This is the point which we were driving at when we explored the morality of staying home on Election Day. Voting for any candidate whose views diverge from Catholic teaching in all of its aspects is at best a compromise, justified by the reminder that all moral teachings do not have the same weight. But when every candidate diverges from Catholic teaching in important respects—or espouses Catholic teaching incredibly, as some candidates do—there is no requirement that one go to the polls to agonize over the candidate who is, on balance, the least out of step with the Church. Furthermore, the obligation to vote comes from shared responsibility for the common good; if all candidates threaten the common good more or less equally, then it may well better serve the common good to stay home. Obviously it is a question of conscience, and, therefore, we do not deny necessarily that a Catholic could come to the conclusion that he or she could vote for a given candidate in this cycle. But, so far, like Sanchez, we fail to see that any of the candidates is the thoroughly Catholic candidate that Pius XII told us we were bound to support.

Furthermore, in the context of the debate over Trump, Sanchez has also interrogated Chad Pecknold’s assertion that “limited government” is an Augustinian doctrine, despite the fact that “limited government” is a code phrase for “free-market capitalism.”  Sanchez makes this point,

Anyone with eyes to see knows by now that this commitment to “limited government” is essentially code for a commitment to free-market capitalism with modest (if any) economic intervention on the part of the government. While “limited government” can and often does imply other restraints on centralized coercive power, it is difficult to discern how they square with Catholic social teaching. Libertarians (and their loosely estranged social-liberal brethren) routinely speak of “limited government” with regards to most moral issues held near and dear by Catholics, which is why they take a generally low view of legislation restricting social blights such as abortion, prostitution, and pornography. If the principle of subsidiarity is truly what Catholics are after, why not speak instead of “localized government”? The expression has the benefit of  being free from the ideological baggage long associated with “limited government” while pointing to the true meaning of subsidiarity.

(Emphasis supplied.) For our part, given the clarity of the phrase “limited government” in our political discourse, we are inclined to think that anyone who uses it is referring to the conventionally conservative sense.

Certainly, Weigel and George—and, we suppose, Pecknold, since he signed Weigel and George’s “appeal”—have some explaining to do when they try to claim that Republican notions of limited government and constitutionalism (which is the same thing, near as we can tell) are “America’s unique expression of Catholic social doctrine’s principle of subsidiarity.” They’re a unique expression because they’re really not an expression of subsidiarity at all. At least not a subsidiarity recognizable in Quadragesimo anno. Subsidiarity holds that the smallest competent unit handles an issue, not that government needs to be restrained to let individuals do as they please. Such liberalism is an inadmissible error. And the notion that the Church ought to change its doctrine to catch up with modern thinking about liberalism is also an inadmissible error. It may also be economic or moral modernism, another inadmissible error. (We concede, in passing, that one could argue, we suppose, that John Paul introduced personalism into the concept of subsidiarity in Centesimus annus, but one would have to recognize, however, that John Paul’s notion of subsidiarity may break with his predecessors’ concepts.)

Read both of Sanchez’s posts. Hugely interesting stuff.

Fr. Montgomery Wright

Fr. Ray Blake—whose blog we ought to read more—posts an interesting video (two interesting videos, in fact) about Fr. Quintin Montgomery Wright, a Scottish priest in Normandy.  Fr. Montgomery Wright started out as an Anglican minister, but, at some point, converted to the Church and was ordained. He then went to France where, according to some comments we have read, he said the Tridentine Mass in French and versus populum. Then, at some point after the Council, he began to take a more traditionalist line. In both videos, the SSPX appears in the background. In the first, Fr. Montgomery Wright acknowledges being friendly with Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, and in the second we see Bishop Tissier, now living (shelved?) in Chicago, performing some confirmations. However, we do not see where Fr. Montgomery Wright was ever formally associated with the Society.

At any rate, Fr. Montgomery Wright’s traditionalism, at least from what we see from the videos, was not “prissy,” to borrow Fr. Blake’s point. It was simply a continuation of what had always been done by and for people living in rural France. In other words, it was a hearty, frank insistence that there was no reason to throw out what had worked for a long time, least of all to please some Roman liturgical experts. (Those of us who are farmers or close to farmers understand this attitude implicitly.) Of course, Fr. Montgomery Wright’s enormous personal charm, we suspect, could have sold traditionalism even to a hostile parish.

At any rate, take a little time and watch the videos.

Sirens that broke the evening gloom

The Trump phenomenon has, for the moment, captured the attention of the political class (and the politically aware) of the United States. In a few short months, Donald Trump has gone from a real-estate developer, reality-television show, and self-promoter extraordinaire to the frontrunner for the Republican presidential nomination. More than that, Trump threatens to upend the traditional Republican coalition and toss out the window certain traditional Republican doctrines. And the Republican establishment has panicked. National Review has already devoted an entire issue to the case against Donald Trump, Mitt Romney has condemned Trump in the strongest language he uses, and the fever dream of a brokered convention denying Trump the nomination has reared its head. It was only a matter of time before we’d hear that we have a religious duty to oppose Trump.

And that time has come. At National Review, Robert George and George Weigel, luminaries of the Catholic neocon right, urge Catholics not to vote for Trump for religious reasons. Their quote-unquote appeal is signed by other, similarly minded Catholics. (We do not see a single traditionalist Catholic, however, which is always a bad sign.) George and Weigel begin,

In recent decades, the Republican party has been a vehicle — imperfect, like all human institutions, but serviceable — for promoting causes at the center of Catholic social concern in the United States: (1) providing legal protection for unborn children, the physically disabled and cognitively handicapped, the frail elderly, and other victims of what Saint John Paul II branded “the culture of death”; (2) defending religious freedom in the face of unprecedented assaults by officials at every level of government who have made themselves the enemies of conscience; (3) rebuilding our marriage culture, based on a sound understanding of marriage as the conjugal union of husband and wife; and (4) re-establishing constitutional and limited government, according to the core Catholic social-ethical principle of subsidiarity. There have been frustrations along the way, to be sure; no political party perfectly embodies Catholic social doctrine. But there have also been successes, and at the beginning of the current presidential electoral cycle, it seemed possible that further progress in defending and advancing these noble causes was possible through the instrument of the Republican party.

(Emphasis supplied.) They go on to detail the numerous ways in which Trump’s bombastic policies are out of step with Catholic and Republican values as they see them. While the concerns that led to Trump’s meteoric rise are valid enough, they say, Catholics should recognize that there are other candidates in the race who can answer those concerns. (Who could they have in mind?)

We pause to note that it would be interesting to know why George and Weigel think that the Republican Party was a “serviceable” vehicle for advancing fundamentally Catholic causes. Because, for our part, we cannot think of a single issue—not even one—upon which the Republicans have been able to prevent the world and the lord of the world from continuing their age-old campaign against Christ and Christ’s Church. The Republicans haven’t rolled back the tide of abortion and euthanasia. They haven’t prevented attempts to redefine radically marriage (in an opinion written by a judge appointed by Ronald Reagan). And they don’t pretend to even want to establish true subsidiarity. (Weigel and George should know better when they throw that term around: subsidiarity means the smallest competent governmental unit handles an issue, not “limited government.”) And we will pass over in silence the suggestion that “religious freedom” is an issue at “the center of Catholic social concern in the United States.” Grenier demonstrates tersely and precisely that the state is bound to profess and defend the true religion, not “religious freedom.” (3 Thomistic Philosophy nos. 1163–1164, pp. 468–70.) Religious freedom is an inadmissible error. (We note that we have previously argued that Rod Dreher’s suggestion that Christians vote for Trump because of his apparent commitment to religious freedom may well be inadmissible for similar reasons.)

However, it seems to us—as has been pointed out to us by some very sharp acquaintances of ours—that George and Weigel are really enlisting Catholics to save the Republican Party from Donald Trump. While it is true that Trump espouses doctrines contrary to those taught by the Church of Rome, so too does, for example, the Republican establishment’s preferred candidate, Texas Sen. Ted Cruz. (Gaudium et Spes, for example, is pretty clear in its condemnation of carpet bombing civilian populations, believe it or not.) And in various other respects, the Republican Party as a whole is as opposed to the Church’s teaching as the Democratic Party is in its way. However, George and Weigel have made the political judgment—flawed, in our view—that a Catholic ought to support the Republican Party. (Despite the mountain of evidence that the Republicans have not and likely will not further Catholic teaching in a meaningful way.) And it must be admitted that the Republican Party is facing a grave threat from Trump. Thus, George and Weigel reason, Catholics must come to rescue the Republican Party from Trump. To be blunt, it seems to us that there was really no reason to drag the Church into the fight, except that George and Weigel have a vision of the Church marching hand in hand with the Republican Party.

But at First Things, R.R. Reno suggests—in the course of a very sensitive analysis of the Trump phenomenon—that some Republican policies may well be the cause of the threat:

The same goes for globalization and ever-freer markets, something I’ve long thought is our best option as a nation. I half-recognized the real costs to ordinary people, but I affirmed the homeopathic dogma that still more economic freedom is the best remedy. About political correctness I’ve always had less sympathy. But there too I’ve thought a certain care and gentleness in public discourse necessary in our increasingly pluralistic society. I’m not sure I fully realized how political correctness humiliates and silences ordinary people.

Trump’s successes at the polls have forced me to acknowledge a degree of blindness. A great number of people in America no longer feel at home, a greater number than I imagined. They’ve been pushed aside by our global economy. A liberalized immigration regime has changed their hometowns. When they express their sense of loss, liberals denounce them as racists, which is equivalent to saying that they have no moral standing in our society. Increasingly, conservative leaders let those charges go unanswered or even agree. Then, when they cheer the idea of making America great again, they’re written off as crude nationalists rather than recognized as fellow citizens who want to do something.

The Republican establishment is in trouble. Its lack of connection to the political reality of its own voters created the possibility of someone like Donald Trump. Now, to defeat him, Republican leaders risk provoking even more profound alienation by insisting still more strongly on their catechism of ever-greater economic freedom.

(Emphasis supplied.) In essence, Reno recognizes that Republican orthodoxy—free trade, free markets, and so forth—have left some people, particularly working-class and middle-class Americans, holding the bag. And Donald Trump has come along with a message aimed specifically at those people. (A very sharp priest of our acquaintance identifies the Trump phenomenon with Pat Buchanan’s paleo-conservative run twenty-some years ago, and asks where all the Buchanan voters have been in the interim.) It is supremely unlikely that preaching that same Republican orthodoxy, but louder and nastier, is going to win those voters back.

On economic matters, it must be said, by way of a brief digression, that the Republican orthodoxy that Reno laments (?) is fairly far removed from Catholic orthodoxy. (But, as Cardinal Ratzinger told us, not every moral issue is of equivalent weight.)  We return, once more, to Papa Ratti’s towering achievement, Quadragesimo anno. Consider this teaching, for example:

It follows from what We have termed the individual and at the same time social character of ownership, that men must consider in this matter not only their own advantage but also the common good. To define these duties in detail when necessity requires and the natural law has not done so, is the function of those in charge of the State. Therefore, public authority, under the guiding light always of the natural and divine law, can determine more accurately upon consideration of the true requirements of the common good, what is permitted and what is not permitted to owners in the use of their property. Moreover, Leo XIII wisely taught “that God has left the limits of private possessions to be fixed by the industry of men and institutions of peoples.” That history proves ownership, like other elements of social life, to be not absolutely unchanging, We once declared as follows: “What divers forms has property had, from that primitive form among rude and savage peoples, which may be observed in some places even in our time, to the form of possession in the patriarchal age; and so further to the various forms under tyranny (We are using the word tyranny in its classical sense); and then through the feudal and monarchial forms down to the various types which are to be found in more recent times.” That the State is not permitted to discharge its duty arbitrarily is, however, clear. The natural right itself both of owning goods privately and of passing them on by inheritance ought always to remain intact and inviolate, since this indeed is a right that the State cannot take away: “For man is older than the State,” and also “domestic living together is prior both in thought and in fact to uniting into a polity.” Wherefore the wise Pontiff declared that it is grossly unjust for a State to exhaust private wealth through the weight of imposts and taxes. “For since the right of possessing goods privately has been conferred not by man’s law, but by nature, public authority cannot abolish it, but can only control its exercise and bring it into conformity with the common weal.” Yet when the State brings private ownership into harmony with the needs of the common good, it does not commit a hostile act against private owners but rather does them a friendly service; for it thereby effectively prevents the private possession of goods, which the Author of nature in His most wise providence ordained for the support of human life, from causing intolerable evils and thus rushing to its own destruction; it does not destroy private possessions, but safeguards them; and it does not weaken private property rights, but strengthens them. 

(Emphasis supplied and footnotes omitted.) This is one example, but an important one. Modern Republican orthodoxy resists strongly the idea that the state should “control [the] exercise” of private property to “bring it into conformity with the needs of the common good,” as both Leo and Pius teach, and that such control of private ownership is “a friendly service” to property owners. Indeed, current Republican orthodoxy holds, as far as we can tell, that any regulation of private property is to be submitted to only under great duress and with great protest. Moreover, such regulation is, so far from a friendly service in pursuit of the common good, a tyrannical overreach by an aloof and wicked government. One could go on with Quadragesimo anno, Mater et Magistra, and Populorum progressio, but at a certain point it becomes unsportsmanlike to punch down like that.

We note that Reno is not the only person who has reached a similar critical insight into the Trump phenomenon. At Bloomberg View, Clive Crook has observed:

Yet, contrary to reports, the Trump supporters I’m talking about aren’t fools. They aren’t racists either. They don’t think much would change one way or the other if Trump were elected. The political system has failed them so badly that they think it can’t be repaired and little’s at stake. The election therefore reduces to an opportunity to express disgust. And that’s where Trump’s defects come in: They’re what make him such an effective messenger.

The fact that he’s outrageous is essential. (Ask yourself, what would he be without his outrageousness? Take that away and nothing remains.) Trump delights mainly in offending the people who think they’re superior — the people who radiate contempt for his supporters. The more he offends the superior people, the more his supporters like it. Trump wages war on political correctness. Political correctness requires more than ordinary courtesy: It’s a ritual, like knowing which fork to use, by which superior people recognize each other.

(Emphasis supplied.) Crook understands that, for many Trump supporters, the question is not whether Trump will transform the American political order into something that, if it doesn’t stack the deck in their favor once again, at least makes the game a little fairer. No, that ship has sailed. But Trump is the only viable way “to express disgust” at the system—Republicans included. This is perhaps only a slightly more cynical point than Reno’s. For Reno, the Trump phenomenon is the last attempt of the victims of capitalism to regain lost status. For Crook, it is their last attempt to express their dislike of the establishment elite. Either way, the Trump phenomenon represents a last-ditch effort of common folks to throw a wrench in their betters’ plans. Or at least at their betters.

The thing is, George and Weigel fail to understand the problem. It is precisely because the Republican Party has ignored the Church’s teaching (to say nothing of its failure to deliver any meaningful results to the millions of Catholics who have supported the Republican Party) that the Trump phenomenon has been able to take root. We do not doubt that Donald Trump is aesthetically a bad candidate. We do not know the man, but we would not be surprised to learn that he’s personally unpleasant. (His principles seem determined by polls, but that’s any politician.) And we do not doubt that some very nasty characters have latched on to Trump’s campaign. We’ve seen the videos ourselves! But that does not have much to do with why the Trump campaign has done so well. And it has even less to do with whether repeating, but loudly, Republican orthodoxy will address the problems that have created the environment in which Trump’s campaign has done so well.

And if the Republican Party has created the problem by ignoring the teachings of so many good and holy popes, it seems to us that it can solve the problem only by adopting those teachings at long last.

But you gave away the things you loved

We have previously considered whether Catholics can vote for a self-professed socialist or a candidate on the basis of his stance on religious freedom. It is, of course, perhaps a comment on the 2016 presidential election that we have considered those questions at all. However, one question has been rolling around in our mind for several weeks, becoming especially insistent in the last several days: must a Catholic vote at all?

At the outset, we note once more that we are not attempting to propose a course of conduct or, indeed, to dissuade you, dear reader, from a course of conduct. However, as we noted above, we ourselves have had some questions in recent days about the permissibility of staying home, as it were, on Election Day in our jurisdiction. Indeed, we readily admit that the notion of a contest in November between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton is not hugely appetizing. It would be, in fact, a very hard pill to swallow. Consequently, we have pondered simply abstaining from voting this fall. However, acknowledging that even our political decisions have a moral dimension, we have undertaken to find out what the moral dimension of that decision would be. And it has been an interesting effort.

We also acknowledge briefly that we have looked at this problem from another angle: Catholics have participated, more or less enthusiastically, in the political process for some time. And many doctrinally aware Catholics take voting for one party practically as a requirement of Pastor aeternus or Munificentissimus Deus. Yet, it seems to us that Catholics have not gotten much—anything?—in exchange for this political participation. If anything, Catholic social and moral teaching seems to recede further and further from the scene. Wheeled out, if at all, every two or four years to be mentioned in passing and then returned to the shelf when it comes time to govern. It seems to us that a very reasonable response to such a disastrous bargain would be to stay home.

We began, as many do, by consulting readily available sources on the internet. One of those sources points to the Catechism of the Catholic Church. In the Latin typical edition, approved by St. John Paul II in Laetamur magnopere, we read:

Civium officium est cum potestatibus civilibus ad bonum societatis collaborare spiritu veritatis, iustitiae, solidarietatis et libertatis. Amor et servitium patriae ex officio oriuntur gratitudinis et ex ordine caritatis. Submissio auctoritatibus legitimis et servitium boni communis exigunt a civibus ut suum in communitatis politicae vita exerceant munus.

Submissio auctoritati et corresponsabilitas boni communis moraliter exigunt tributorum solutionem, exercitium iuris suffragii, defensionem nationis […]

(Emphasis supplied.) In the Vatican’s English translation, this is rendered:

It is the duty of citizens to contribute along with the civil authorities to the good of society in a spirit of truth, justice, solidarity, and freedom. The love and service of one’s country follow from the duty of gratitude and belong to the order of charity. Submission to legitimate authorities and service of the common good require citizens to fulfill their roles in the life of the political community.

Submission to authority and co-responsibility for the common good make it morally obligatory to pay taxes, to exercise the right to vote, and to defend one’s country […]

(Emphasis supplied.) This is, perhaps, simple enough: It is “morally obligatory” “to exercise the right to vote.” But the interesting thing for us is that voting is obligatory as a consequence of “submission to authority and co-responsibility for the common good.” This, of course, opens the door to questions of legitimacy in authority and what pursues the common good, both of which are complicated, to say the least. However, it seems to us that this provides a reasonable framework for understanding the obligation to vote. That is to say: we’re required to vote because we’re individually responsible for the common good (considering our stations in life), not because voting is per se endowed with some strong moral component.

When we have a doctrinal question, while we might stop by the Catechism, we rarely stop at the Catechism. And, in this case, we did not. One of the other sources we consulted pointed to a series of statements in the mid-1940s by Pius XII. We certainly encourage you to read that source, consisting of old articles from The Angelus closely. It has, as you’ll see, informed our thinking strongly, and not just by pointing out sources for consideration. (Don’t be put off by the fact that it’s The Angelus.) This got our attention, naturally, since Pius XII was, like his predecessor, the great Papa Ratti, a visionary pope in many regards. (Don’t believe us? Read Exsul Familia when you’ve got an idle hour.) And we have found the several statements identified by the article hugely interesting, not least because it collects the sources conveniently.

The first statement, a March 1946 address to the parish priests of Rome, included this statement:

L’esercizio del diritto di voto è un atto di grave responsabilità morale, per lo meno quando si tratta di eleggere coloro che sono chiamati a dare al Paese la sua costituzione e le sue leggi, quelle in particolare che toccano, per esempio, la santificazione delle feste, il matrimonio, la famiglia, la scuola, il regolamento secondo giustizia ed equità delle molteplici condizioni sociali. Spetta perciò alla Chiesa di spiegare ai fedeli i doveri morali, che da quel diritto elettorale derivano.

(Emphasis supplied.) The Angelus rendered this passage thus:

The exercise of the right to vote is an act of grave moral responsibility, at least with respect to the electing of those who are called to give to a country its constitution and its laws, and in particular those that affect the sanctification of holy days of obligation, marriage, the family, schools and the just and equitable regulation of many social questions. It is the Church’s duty to explain to the faithful the moral duties that flow from this electoral right.

(Emphasis supplied.) This is an important point: Catholics have a grave moral responsibility to vote for legislators who can “affect the sanctification of holy days of obligation, marriage, the family, schools, and the just and equitable regulation of many social questions.” This gives us immediate pause. For one thing, the American constitutional order has largely completely excluded these issues from legislative action. Indeed, issues relating to “marriage, the family, schools, and the just and equitable regulation of many social questions” have largely been taken over by the federal judiciary, which would likely prevent legislators at any level from enacting truly Catholic laws. Moreover, the Constitution itself takes some of these issues off the table. Finally, on a variety of issues, neither American political party is apt to support “the just and equitable regulation of many social questions.” And we shall pass over, in relative silence, the extent to which protestant legislators are apt to give God his true rights and God’s Church hers. All of this is to say: a Catholic probably could not find a candidate that she could vote for under Pius’s criteria.

A few months later, Pius gave a speech to the leadership of Catholic Action, in which he stated:

Il popolo è chiamato a prendere una parte sempre più importante nella vita pubblica della Nazione. Questa partecipazione porta con sé gravi responsabilità. Donde la necessità per i fedeli di avere cognizioni nette, solide, precise intorno ai loro doveri di ordine morale e religioso nell’esercizio dei diritti civili, in modo particolare del diritto di voto. Su questi argomenti Noi abbiamo dato nella Nostra allocuzione di quest’anno ai parroci e ai quaresimalisti di Roma norme concrete, che valgono sostanzialmente anche per l’Azione cattolica. Questa, beninteso, non è un partito politico e sta al di sopra della politica di partito. Ma appunto perciò essa deve tanto più, in queste settimane e in questi mesi, illuminare i cattolici sugl’interessi religiosi che sono presentemente in serio pericolo e persuaderli, non solo in pubblico, ma altresì in privato, uomini e donne, a uno a uno, dell’importanza e della gravità dell’obbligo, che come cristiani, li stringe alla retta osservanza dei loro doveri politici. — In egual modo anche per l’Azione cattolica vale il dettame di non chiudere l’orecchio alle lezioni e agli avvertimenti della storia. Questa non presenta fino ai nostri tempi alcun esempio di un popolo o di un Paese che, dopo di essersi staccato dalla Chiesa e dalla cultura cattolica, vi sia ritornato integralmente. Coloro che le rimasero fedeli hanno ben potuto lottare coraggiosamente, eroicamente; ma, una volta consumata la catastrofe e compiuto il passo fatale, non si è mai avuta finora una completa riparazione e reintegrazione.

(Emphasis supplied.) Once again, The Angelus provides a partial translation. (But not a complete one. While we have, for some time, tried to avoid quoting large passages of untranslated foreign languages, we will make an exception here.)

The people are called on to take an always larger part in the public life of the nation. This participation brings with it grave responsibilities. Hence the necessity for the faithful to have clear, solid, precise knowledge of their duties in the moral and religious domain with respect to their exercise of their civil rights, and in particular of the right to vote.

(Emphasis supplied.)

It seems to us that, at the risk of running afoul of the prohibitions in Leo XIII’s great letter to Cardinal Gibbons, Testem benevolentiae nostrae, the march of time may have changed the calculus behind Pius’s teaching on this point. For example, the modes of communication and dissemination of opinion have changed enormously since the spring of 1946 when Pius addressed the Roman clergy and the Catholic Action leadership. As a consequence, the way in which people take “an always larger part in the public life of the nation” has changed. It seems to us that one can participate as meaningfully in the life of the nation by blogging, tweeting, or otherwise expressing and sharing opinions with like-minded individuals as by choosing between two candidates, neither of whom have platforms that are uniformly consistent with Catholic teaching. Indeed, one may have more impact on the life of a nation with a tweet than with a vote. However, we acknowledge that a vote has formal, legal consequences that a tweet does not (usually) have.

In this same vein, we note that the little-known-and-little-loved Vatican II decree Inter mirifica addressed social communications back in 1963, making this point:

Praecipuum morale officium quoad rectum instrumentorum communicationis socialis usum respicit diurnarios, scriptores, actores, scaenarum artifices, effectores, diribitores, distributores, exercentes et venditores, criticos ceterosque qui quocumque modo in communicationibus efficiendis et transmittendis partem habeant; omnino enim patet quae et quam gravis momenti officia iis omnibus sint tribuenda in hodiernis hominum condicionibus, cum ipsi, informando atque incitando, humanum genus recte vel pessum ducere possint.

Eorum itaque erit oeconomicas, vel politicas, vel artis rationes ita componere ut eaedem bono communi numquam adversentur; quod ut expeditius obtineant, ipsi laudabiliter nomen consociationibus dent ad suam professionem spectantibus, quae suis membris – etiam, si opus fuerit, inito foedere de codice morali recte servando – legum moralium reverentiam in suae artis negotiis et officiis imponant.

(Emphasis supplied.) In the Vatican’s English translation, this passage is rendered:

The principle moral responsibility for the proper use of the media of social communication falls on newsmen, writers, actors, designers, producers, displayers, distributors, operators and sellers, as well as critics and all others who play any part in the production and transmission of mass presentations. It is quite evident what gravely important responsibilities they have in the present day when they are in a position to lead the human race to good or to evil by informing or arousing mankind.

Thus, they must adjust their economic, political or artistic and technical aspects so as never to oppose the common good. For the purpose of better achieving this goal, they are to be commended when they join professional associations, which-even under a code, if necessary, of sound moral practice-oblige their members to show respect for morality in the duties and tasks of their craft.

(Emphasis supplied.) Thus, it seems to us that there is some basis for believing that communications can affect the common good. And when every man, woman, and child with an internet connection can broadcast news and opinion to the world, it seems to us that every man, woman, and child is “in a position to lead the human race to good or to evil by informing or arousing mankind,” as it says in Inter mirifica. And this might be the crucial point in our meandering analysis; every Catholic has numerous mechanisms by which he or she can affect the common good by advancing the cause of Christ and Christ’s Church. Suffrage is an option, but it is not the only option.

This comment seems to track back, furthermore, to the teaching in the Catechism. Recall that the Catechism holds that we are obligated to vote as a function of our shared responsibility for the common good. Pius, it seems, held a similar view: we are called upon to take an always larger part in the public life of the nation. And this participation includes the obligation to exercise our right to vote. (Though, as we say, it seems possible that one can participate meaningfully in the life of the nation without voting.)

Finally, The Angelus article cited a 1948 address by Pius to, once again, the clergy of Rome. Pius said,

1. Che, nelle presenti circostanze, è stretto obbligo per quanti ne hanno il diritto, uomini e donne, di prender parte alle elezioni. Chi se ne astiene, specialmente per indolenza o per viltà, commette in sé un peccato grave, una colpa mortale.

2. Ognuno ha da votare secondo il dettame della propria coscienza. Ora è evidente che la voce della coscienza impone ad ogni sincero cattolico di dare il proprio voto a quei candidati o a quelle liste di candidati, che offrono garanzie veramente sufficienti per la tutela dei diritti di Dio e delle anime, per il vero bene dei singoli, delle famiglie e della società, secondo la legge di Dio e la dottrina morale cristiana.

(Emphasis supplied.) And, once more, our source provides for us an English translation of this passage:

1. In the present circumstances, it is a strict obligation for all those who have the right to vote, men and women, to take part in the elections. Whoever abstains from doing so, in particular by indolence or weakness, commits a sin grave in itself, a mortal fault.

2. Each one must follow the dictate of his own conscience. However, it is obvious that the voice of conscience imposes on every Catholic to give his vote to the candidates who offer truly sufficient guarantees for the protection of the rights of God and of souls, for the true good of individuals, families and of society, according to the love of God and Catholic moral teaching.

(Emphasis supplied, and reformatted to match Italian text.) Once again, this brings us back to the point we made a little earlier: a Catholic probably could not find a candidate that she could vote for under Pius’s criteria. (We also have some qualms about “in the present circumstances,” though we’ll pass over that for now.) Even so-called conservative candidates are unlikely to “offer truly sufficient guarantees for the protection of the rights of God and of souls, for the true good of individuals, families and of society, according to the love of God and Catholic moral teaching.” Indeed, it would surprise us very much if a candidate understood even what is meant by “the rights of God and of souls,” much less the finer points of Catholic moral teaching.

Thus, it seems that there is a consistent sense—insofar as the sources we have quoted represent continuous teaching—that we have a moral obligation to vote. However, that obligation comes from our shared responsibility for the common good. And it seems to us that, when the common good would be dissolved by any candidate in an election, then it may well be permissible to refrain from voting. Likewise, while a Catholic is certainly morally required to vote for candidates who will govern according to the teachings of Christ and Christ’s Church, if no candidate in an election will so govern, it seems to us that a Catholic could simply stay home and have a “Social Kingship of Christ” party.

A very interesting new essay

Pater Edmund Waldstein, O.Cist., no stranger to readers of Semiduplex, has, at The Josias, a very lengthy, very interesting essay, “Integralism and Gelasian Dyarchy.” We have not yet processed it sufficiently to be able to formulate our own thoughts about it,  but we wanted to point it out to you, dear readers, so that you can add it to your reading list. And you should do that. It’s important stuff.

The pro-life movement and the sickness of modernity

In reading Roberto Riviera’s thought-provoking piece at Ethika Politika about “Pro Life 2.0,” we were reminded of one of the Holy Father’s most incisive points in Laudato si’:

The basic problem goes even deeper: it is the way that humanity has taken up technology and its development according to an undifferentiated and one-dimensional paradigm. This paradigm exalts the concept of a subject who, using logical and rational procedures, progressively approaches and gains control over an external object. This subject makes every effort to establish the scientific and experimental method, which in itself is already a technique of possession, mastery and transformation. It is as if the subject were to find itself in the presence of something formless, completely open to manipulation. Men and women have constantly intervened in nature, but for a long time this meant being in tune with and respecting the possibilities offered by the things themselves. It was a matter of receiving what nature itself allowed, as if from its own hand. Now, by contrast, we are the ones to lay our hands on things, attempting to extract everything possible from them while frequently ignoring or forgetting the reality in front of us. Human beings and material objects no longer extend a friendly hand to one another; the relationship has become confrontational. This has made it easy to accept the idea of infinite or unlimited growth, which proves so attractive to economists, financiers and experts in technology. It is based on the lie that there is an infinite supply of the earth’s goods, and this leads to the planet being squeezed dry beyond every limit. It is the false notion that “an infinite quantity of energy and resources are available, that it is possible to renew them quickly, and that the negative effects of the exploitation of the natural order can be easily absorbed”.

(Emphasis supplied.) In the Holy Father’s view, this technocratic paradigm sets up a misguided anthropocentrism, about which the Holy Father goes on to say:

A misguided anthropocentrism leads to a misguided lifestyle. In the Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, I noted that the practical relativism typical of our age is “even more dangerous than doctrinal relativism”. When human beings place themselves at the centre, they give absolute priority to immediate convenience and all else becomes relative. Hence we should not be surprised to find, in conjunction with the omnipresent technocratic paradigm and the cult of unlimited human power, the rise of a relativism which sees everything as irrelevant unless it serves one’s own immediate interests. There is a logic in all this whereby different attitudes can feed on one another, leading to environmental degradation and social decay.

The culture of relativism is the same disorder which drives one person to take advantage of another, to treat others as mere objects, imposing forced labour on them or enslaving them to pay their debts. The same kind of thinking leads to the sexual exploitation of children and abandonment of the elderly who no longer serve our interests. It is also the mindset of those who say: Let us allow the invisible forces of the market to regulate the economy, and consider their impact on society and nature as collateral damage. In the absence of objective truths or sound principles other than the satisfaction of our own desires and immediate needs, what limits can be placed on human trafficking, organized crime, the drug trade, commerce in blood diamonds and the fur of endangered species? Is it not the same relativistic logic which justifies buying the organs of the poor for resale or use in experimentation, or eliminating children because they are not what their parents wanted? This same “use and throw away” logic generates so much waste, because of the disordered desire to consume more than what is really necessary. We should not think that political efforts or the force of law will be sufficient to prevent actions which affect the environment because, when the culture itself is corrupt and objective truth and universally valid principles are no longer upheld, then laws can only be seen as arbitrary impositions or obstacles to be avoided.

(Emphasis supplied.) It seems to us that combating the sickness at the heart of modernity, which the Holy Father diagnoses so brilliantly, is an important step in combating the various assaults on life and the dignity of life mounted by the world and the lord of the world.

How I’ve learned to please, to doubt myself in need

At The Paraphasic, Elliot Milco argues that conservative despair results from a conservative disposition without goals:

Food is conserved in conditions of scarcity.  Forests are conserved when they are being wiped out.  We conserve historical sites when they are in a state of disrepair or permanent disuse.  The word “conservatism” suggests the preciousness of what is being preserved and a will to defend it, but it also suggests a climate of decay and a general trend toward decrepitude.  Conservation, after all, is merely a way of staving off the inevitable.

The source of conservative despair is a weakness not of principles or ideals, but of posture.  Our disposition toward the present context lacks adequate direction.  We fight for things like neutrality, and the liberty to be left alone. (Acedia’s plea.) We gripe about our losses and reminisce about the good old days (of fifty years ago or fifteen hundred).   We huddle together in increasingly isolated enclaves of fellow-thinkers.  And this posture of conservatism, which is merely conservative, primes us for failure.  The inevitable.

(Emphasis supplied and italics in original.) Milco has identified, we think, this tendency in conservative thought previously. For example, he called the late Antonin Scalia, “the mighty rearguard in our [i.e., conservatives’] long and slow defeat.”

For our part, we’d take a step back: when Milco says that “the source of conservative despair is a weakness not of principles or ideals,” we are not so sure we agree. Certainly, to the extent that the Christ’s teachings and the teachings of Christ’s Church are conservative, we would agree that the foundation of those principles or ideals is as strong as possible (cf. 1 Cor. 3:11–15). But there are plenty of conservative ideals not built upon Christ’s teachings. For example, the sort of unrestrained faith in capitalism and near-idolatry of the free market so popular among some conservatives is to be found nowhere in sound Christian doctrine. Likewise, a concept of the role of government that is divorced entirely from the notion of the common good—by this, of course, we mean the obsession with “limited government” on the right, which is not at all the same thing as subsidiarity—is not a concept in accordance with reason. And, of course, worshipping a Constitution that resolutely and intentionally denies the rights of God and his Church is the very antithesis of Christian doctrine. Now, we mention all this not to demonstrate how little we think of standard-issue movement conservatism in the United States—though we do not in fact think a whole lot of it—but to show that there are articles of conservative faith today that are weak. They are weak because they are un-Christian.

Now, we are under no illusion that Milco meant to imply that basic movement conservatism is founded upon sound ideals; our demonstration was intended to set up this point: Christians have made common cause with movement conservatives over a variety of issues. In some cases, there have been common goals—the defense of life and marriage against the world and the lord of this world—and where the groups’ goals diverged, they were still essentially compatible. Perhaps, however, it is time for Christians to go forward alone and on their own terms. The goal of a Christian is not to win elections, but to win an imperishable crown, as Paul says (1 Cor. 9:24–25)—though serving Christ, who is the lawful king over all nations, may involve government according to Christ’s laws—and perhaps it’s time to start moving forward with that goal in mind.

All the battles you’ve fought (and lost)

Rod Dreher sets forth a social conservative’s case for Donald Trump at The American Conservative. In itself, that’s an interesting argument. Dreher argues that the “real” fight is over religious liberty, and Trump has promised to protect religious liberty. Dreher also asserts that Trump is no more untrustworthy on issues like this than establishment Republicans, who have sold out social conservatives time and time again on a whole range of issues to appease their donors. Like we said, an interesting argument. However, it seems to be an argument that concedes defeat on a couple of important points.

We hasten to say, at the outset, that, while we have made made up our mind on the likely Republican and Democratic candidates this year, we do not intend with these reflections to urge you, dear reader, to vote for or against any candidate. (Just as we did not intend to urge you to vote for or against Bernie Sanders with our comments about whether Catholics can vote for a self-described socialist.) Our point, which we shall elaborate here in a second, is that Dreher, in making this case for Donald Trump, makes some assumptions that are, well, troubling. It is not clear to us, furthermore, that Dreher intended to urge his readers to vote one way or the other. (He said as much in a comment thread, in fact.)

We note, first, that Dreher’s argument seems to call upon Christians to formally cooperate in the error of religious liberty. After all, that is exactly what voting for a candidate because he supports religious liberty is. This is, perhaps, not a huge deal to many Catholics. However, to traditionally minded Catholics, especially Catholics connected with the Society of St. Pius X, religious liberty remains a live topic. Dreher argues, as we noted above, that,

Religious liberty is where the real fight is, specifically the degree to which religious institutions and individuals will have the freedom to practice their beliefs without running afoul of civil liberties for gay men and women. This is where having a friendly administration matters most to religious and social conservatives. And this is an area where religious and social conservatives are in the most danger of being bamboozled by the GOP Establishment.

(Emphasis supplied.) But the question of religious liberty is a tricky one for the Christian. While the Church and individual Catholics ought to be free to profess the Apostolic faith and to live in accordance with the commands of Christ, religious liberty itself is a proposition that has been condemned and condemned and condemned by good and holy popes.

By religious liberty we refer to the opinion that it is a fundamental right of man to worship, or not worship, according to the dictates of one’s conscience. Gregory XVI condemned this opinion’s close corollary, indifferentism, in 1832 in Mirari vos (DH 2731–32). Likewise, Pius IX condemned indifferentism in Qui pluribus in 1851 (DH 2785). And he definitively proscribed indifferentism and religious liberty in Syllabus Errorum, in propositions 15–18, 77, and 79 (DH 2915–18, 2977, 2979).  Leo XIII condemned so-called liberty of conscience in stringent terms in his 1888 encyclical Libertas praestantissimum (DH 3250–51). Indeed, that great Pope held that the civil authority can tolerate false sects only in furtherance of the common good, always taking care not to approve the false sect itself (ibid., 3251). In other words, the teaching of the Church is clear: religious liberty is an error. Finally, we note that Dignitatis humanae left “untouched traditional Catholic doctrine on the moral duty of men and societies toward the true religion and toward the one Church of Christ.” Thus, to some extent, it is unclear whether or not the Council changed the Church’s venerable teaching on indifferentism and religious liberty in Dignitatis humanae. For our purposes, we will assume that the Council did not.

And this leads us to an interesting question: can one support a candidate because he supports religious liberty? As shown above, religious liberty is an error, condemned by the Church; therefore, one would be supporting a candidate because the candidate supports an error, condemned by the Church. At some level, such support would be formal cooperation in error. (Whether it is subjectively culpable as a sin is another question, though heresy is a grave sin.) Now, one might say that the Church would benefit from this error, as indeed it might, but that does not redeem the erroneous proposition itself. Furthermore, such cooperation is not as grave as, say, supporting a candidate because she supports abortion, which is strictly impermissible. But it is not clear to us that the gravity is nonexistent, either. Thus, we have some doubts that it would be appropriate to support a candidate because of his stance on religious liberty, though one could support a candidate despite his stance on religious liberty if there were proportionately serious reasons to support him.

That’s one issue we have with Dreher’s column. It’s not the only one.

The bigger issue is Dreher’s willingness to concede defeat on abortion. While the question of religious liberty is perhaps a little obscure to many Catholics, there is not a Catholic in the United States today who does not understand the issue of abortion and the stakes involved. In order to make the case that religious liberty is where the real action is these days, Dreher asserts:

On abortion, unless the Supreme Court were to revisit Roe v. Wade — something nobody foresees happening — the right to legal abortion is here to stay. Even if the Court overturned Roe, all that would mean is that the right to regulate abortion would return to the states. Most states would unhesitatingly protect abortion rights. Some would impose restrictions. In no state would it likely be banned outright. The possibility of there being an end to abortion achieved through judicial and legislative means is remote. That does not mean that having a pro-life president is unimportant, but it does mean that its importance has to be judged relative to other factors.

Anybody who thinks Obergefell is going to be overturned is dreaming. It won’t happen. Roe was less popular in 1973 than Obergefell is today, and we all know by now that the generation most opposed to same-sex marriage is passing away. Gay marriage is here to stay. Our side lost that battle, and we waste time and resources trying to re-fight it. The candidates who say they’re going to work to overturn Obergefell are either pandering or deluded. And socially conservative voters who are in touch with reality know that what’s done is done. Fighting same-sex marriage in the courts is the most lost of lost causes.

(Enumeration and hyperlink omitted, emphasis supplied, and italics in original.) This is, frankly, astounding. Dreher’s argument appears to be that Christians have lost, irretrievably, the battles over abortion and same-sex “marriage.”

If this is the case, then what’s the point fighting any more battles? It is not as though abortion in particular has been some trivial issue in the life of the Church, a defeat over which Catholics can laugh off lightly. Far from it! For forty years, the political choices of serious Christians have been driven, for the most part, by the questions of abortion and same-sex “marriage.” (Perhaps longer, since Griswold v. Connecticut was the real beginning of the movement toward widespread abortion.) During that time, for American Catholics, abortion has been, quite rightly, the number-one question. Indeed, there are not a few Catholics who have written off, not unjustifiably, a major political party solely on the issue of abortion. Moreover, prelates have threatened to deny communion to politicians who support abortion. And, in his 2004 memorandum, which we have cited here previously, Cardinal Ratzinger stated (or strongly implied or whatever) that abortion was perhaps the most important moral issue facing Catholics. Same-sex “marriage” has been, in recent years, a major battleground, especially in state elections and referenda. But, according to Dreher, they’ve lost. Why would anyone think that they’re more likely to win on religious liberty or any other fight after they lost their number-one fight?

Dreher’s point also raises an interesting issue as far as voting goes. If no politician can make a difference on the questions of abortion or same-sex “marriage,” and that is precisely what Dreher implies when he says that those fights are over, then is it appropriate to consider those points when casting one’s vote? That is to say, does it really matter if, in the race for president, John Johnson is ardently pro-abortion and Jane Jones is ardently pro-life? If “[t]he possibility of there being an end to abortion achieved through judicial and legislative means is remote,” then does it really matter who you vote for? And when Dreher says that the importance of a pro-life candidate “has to be judged relative to other factors,” what other factors are there? Aside from the question of life and the question of marriage, the two major American political parties are not hugely different.

That said, is there any principled reason for a serious Christian to engage politically after the defeat on abortion and same-sex “marriage”? If the two most important battles in living memory have ended in irretrievable defeat, as Dreher says, then why should a Christian continue to fight the fight with weapons that manifestly do not work? In the context of another discussion, we were politely corrected by an acquaintance of ours for excluding the possibility of divine intervention in a particular situation. (We cannot remember just now what it was, though.) If the political battle is truly lost, then perhaps it is time to set aside political weapons. So what if the ballot box cannot stem the tide of this world and the ruler of this world? The Mass and the Rosary can. So what if politicians fail to keep their promises? Our Lord keeps his promises. It would perhaps make more sense to devote one’s energies where they can do some good: in imploring the Lord to intervene and put things right.  One may argue that such an approach is resignation (or fatalism or worse), but it seems to us that Dreher’s approach is the approach of resignation, insofar as he urges us to accept that the battles over abortion and same-sex “marriage” are lost. Dreher says “what’s done is done.”

And, of course, we are reminded of the Holy Father’s recent homily to the clergy of Mexico just this past Tuesday:

What temptation can come to us from places often dominated by violence, corruption, drug trafficking, disregard for human dignity, and indifference in the face of suffering and vulnerability? What temptation might we suffer over and over again – we who are called to the consecrated life, to the presbyterate, to the episcopate – what temptation could might we endure in the face of all this, in the face of this reality which seems to have become a permanent system? 

I think that we could sum it up in a single word: “resignation”. And faced with this reality, the devil can overcome us with one of his favourite weapons: resignation. “And what are you going to do about it? Life is like that”. A resignation which paralyzes us and prevents us not only from walking, but also from making the journey; a resignation which not only terrifies us, but which also entrenches us in our “sacristies” and false securities; a resignation which not only prevents us from proclaiming, but also inhibits our giving praise and takes away the joy, the joy of giving praise. A resignation which not only hinders our looking to the future, but also stifles our desire to take risks and to change. And so, “Our Father, lead us not into temptation”.

(Emphasis supplied.)

More on the Joint Declaration from Patriarch Sviatoslav

We recently quoted a statement by Patriarch Sviatoslav Shevchuk, leader of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, on the Joint Declaration of the Holy Father and Patriarch Kirill of Moscow. It seems that the full interview—or at least more of the interview—has been translated into English and made available. Of particular note, Patriarch Sviatoslav notes that:

It was officially reported that this document was the joint effort of Metropolitan Hilarion (Alfeyev) from the Orthodox side and Cardinal Koch with the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity from the Catholic side. For a document that was intended to be not theological, but essentially socio-political, it is hard to imagine a weaker team than the one that drafted this text. The mentioned Pontifical Council is competent in theological matters in relations with various Christian Churches and communities, but is no expert in matters of international politics, especially in delicate matters such as Russia’s aggression in Ukraine. Thus, the intended character of the document was beyond their capabilities. This was exploited by the Department of External Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church, which is, first of all, the instrument of diplomacy and external politics of the Moscow Patriarchate. I would note that, as the Head of our Church, I am an official member of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, nominated already by Pope Benedict. However, no one invited me to express my thoughts and so, essentially, as had already happened previously, they spoke about us without us, without giving us a voice.

(Emphasis supplied.) This is all hugely interesting and very important business, and, for our part, that Patriarch Sviatoslav is so clear and precise the situation.

Scalia’s Death

It is hard to imagine America without Antonin Scalia. Hero to conservatives, bête noire to the left, Scalia was a judge unlike any other judge in the history of the Republic. And his death seems momentous in a way that other events in the life of the Republic in recent years have not. There will be more politicians, more elections, more crises, domestic and international, and more wars. (At least until the Lord returns and this world passes away.) But there will not be another Scalia. And we have lost something with his passing that we will not likely get back.

We recall, on June 26 last year, when the Supreme Court handed down its decision in Obergefell v. Hodges, scrolling quickly past the majority opinion and Chief Justice John Roberts’s dissent to get to Justice Antonin Scalia’s dissent. We assumed, given the indications of Justice Kennedy, that the majority decision would say that marriage extended to same-sex couples. We assumed that Chief Justice Roberts would deplore the way in which the decision was reached. And we didn’t really care. What we wanted to see was what Scalia had to say. And his dissent in Obergefell was a barn-burning attack on the reasoning (or lack thereof) of the majority opinion.

It was not the first time that we wanted to see what Scalia had to say first. And we were not alone in skipping the boring parts to see the fireworks. (Unfortunately, like the professor he was at heart, Scalia punished those of us who didn’t read the majority opinion by referring to it and quoting from it at length, requiring us to scroll back up repeatedly to see what he was talking about.)

It is unlikely that any other justice on the Supreme Court occupied the imagination of the public—lawyers and laymen alike—quite the way Scalia did. His public persona—blunt, witty, and brilliant—was balanced by stories of his devotion to Christ and Christ’s Church, his unlikely friendship with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and his role as patriarch of a large family. Some of our acquaintances in the Washington area reported seeing Scalia regularly at the traditional Latin Mass offered at Mary Mother of God. But above all of this was his reputation as a writer: usually incisive, often witty, occasionally caustic, but always clear and always tightly reasoned. And we imagine that judges across the land, at every level, took a cue from Scalia and started expressing themselves and their views clearly and directly, too. (And some state courts we could name have, we think, very mightily struggled to avoid Scalia-style opinions. But even this is a testament to his influence.)

Even people who did not especially like Scalia were impressed by his incisive intellect. We had a very slight connection to him—to outline it would be a little gauche, so we’ll say it was on the order of a friend of a friend or something like that—and the impression we got was that he was blunt, witty, and brilliant, even as a young man. But the impressive thing is how many people, even his ideological adversaries, liked Scalia tremendously. There was something about his “Italian from Queens” style that was charming and disarming, even to his opponents.

And for all these reasons, as we noted above, Scalia’s death seems momentous in a way that other events in the recent life of the Republic have not. Perhaps coming very near the reason why, at First Things, Elliot Milco has a brief appreciation of Scalia. He writes,

Antonin Scalia was a hero to me, as he was to thousands, perhaps millions of conservative Americans. He was brilliant. He was morally engaged. His prose sparkled. He was the great champion of the Right, and he could not be silenced or voted out, no matter how much the press despised him. While his enemies pushed relentlessly to have their views enshrined as fundamental principles of free society, Scalia fought to keep the moral question open for debate, to maintain the possibility of reasonable dissent, because he believed that in a fair fight, we could still prevail. He was the mighty rearguard in our long and slow defeat.

The passing of Antonin Scalia is the passing of a great figure in American political life—a true jurist of the sort rarely seen in recent decades. For those of us on the Right, the death of this great man is devastating. In the past forty years the Supreme Court has been the site of so many crucial revisions of the fundamental law of our government. Who can say how his successor will affect the balance of power in this country, or for how long? Without him, or someone like him, we can guess what’s to come. More revision, more exclusion, more decay.

(Emphasis supplied.) This seems correct to us. It is unclear to us that anyone else could step into the breach and mount the thunderous defense of reason and justice that Scalia did for so long. Even when the forces of this world and the lord of this world won great victories—and they did win great victories, though only for a little while—Scalia could always drive them to paroxysms of fury with a turn of phrase or a careful dissection of a non-argument. They might have won, but they undoubtedly didn’t like how hard they had to work to do so when Scalia was watching. And, as we say, it is far from clear that anyone can fill that role quite like he did.

And, in all the memorials and remembrances, we think it is especially important to remember that Scalia was a champion of civil liberties, especially liberties that are important for criminal defendants. Scalia did much to save the Confrontation Clause of the Sixth Amendment from the constitutional dustheap, and he routinely voted in favor of robust Fourth Amendment protections. For him, these provisions were not impediments to effective police work, but necessary guarantees that protect citizens from police overreach. And he formed a remarkably durable coalition with liberal justices to provide much needed majorities to protect these rights. (We suspect that, very soon, the people thrilled today that their old nemesis is gone will miss him.)

Of your charity, pray for the repose of his soul.