Perspectives on Political Science, 43:21–30, 2014 Copyright C© Taylor & Francis Group, LLC ISSN: 1045-7097 print / 1930-5478 online DOI: 10.1080/10457097.2013.852045

The Secular Basis of the Separation of Church and State:

Hobbes, Locke, Montesquieu, and Tocqueville

CHRISTOPHER NADON

Abstract: In this article, I argue that John Locke presents a novel understanding of “ecclesiastical liberty” that allows him to use it as the basis for separating religion from politics, church from state, in a manner favorable to secular interests and power. Montesquieu and Toqueville understood this ap- proach and adapted and modified it to conditions in France and America.

Keywords: secularism, popular sovereignty, commercial republic, toleration

“R ender therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.” This verse from Matthew 22 with its equivalents in Mark and Luke are commonly used to establish a dis-

tinction between religion and politics that allows for that sep- aration of church and state which is a necessary foundation of limited or liberal democratic constitutionalism.1 Jürgen Habermas gives a more general and sweeping statement of what he believes is the relationship between liberal politics and biblical religion, and the essential character of the later for the former: “Egalitarian universalism, from which sprang the ideas of freedom and social solidarity, of an autonomous conduct of life and emancipation, of the individual morality of conscience, human rights and democracy, is the direct heir of the Judaic ethic of justice and the Christian ethic of love.

Christopher Nadon is an Associate Professor of Government at Claremont McKenna College.

This legacy, substantially unchanged, has been the object of continual critical appropriation and reinterpretation. To this day, there is no alternative to it. And in light of the current challenges of a post-national constellation, we continue to draw on the substance of this heritage. Everything else is just idle postmodern talk.”2 Yet does not this sectarian origin make questionable the universal claims, or at least applica- bility, of the kind of democratic politics that rests upon it? Certainly today the Islamic world is often understood both from within and without as rejecting such a distinction be- tween, and therefore separation of, religion and politics as would seem to follow from Christ’s injunction.3 In this arti- cle I argue that John Locke, historically the most influential theorist of separation, grounds that principle on a novel un- derstanding or interpretation of “ecclesiastical liberty” that owes little or nothing to Christian religious doctrines. This rational or secular approach, built on Hobbes’ recasting of the religious problem, was then appropriated and adapted by Montesquieu and Tocqueville.

HOBBES: THE SUBJECTION OF RELIGION TO POLITICAL ENDS

It is worth recalling that the Christian distinction between spiritual and temporal powers, far from being considered an essential principle of good government, was once understood as a fundamental cause of political instability, religious intol- erance, and persecution. There is much in the history of the Middle Ages to support Machaivelli’s conclusion that Chris- tianity laid a foundation for perpetual discord by making the state too weak, or, rather, it made the priests and the Church

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too strong, thus allowing the two to come into frequent con- flict.4 One of the most striking features of the struggle be- tween emperors and popes (and nationalist and ultramontane clergy) was the inability for the two sides, even at those mo- ments when moved by a genuine desire for comity, to find a stable resolution of their differences whether they based their positions on Scripture, theology, or historical precedent.5 Yet one could perhaps imagine that the problem with Christian- ity resided only in the institution of the papacy and Roman Curia rather than within the religion itself.6 Hobbes, how- ever, especially in the Behemoth, offers a brief against the political tendencies of Christianity even when liberated from the papal yoke.

Hobbes, writing chiefly for a Protestant audience, does not shy away from blaming the papacy for much of the troubles found “in these western parts of the world.” But he proceeds to give a more direct diagnosis of the underlying cause of pa- pal malignity: it is the Christian distinction between spiritual and temporal powers. “By spiritual power they [the doctors of the Roman faith] mean the power to determine points of faith, and to be judges in the inner court of conscience of moral duties, and power to punish those men that obey not their precepts by ecclesiastical censure, that is, by excom- munication,” a power “claimed immediately from Christ.” Temporal power, whose basis Hobbes refrains from imme- diately stating, “consists in judging and punishing those ac- tions that are done against the civil laws,” a power the doctors make no claim to exercise, at least not directly. The difficulty arises with the priestly claim to supervise or exercise tem- poral power “indirectly, that is to say, so far forth as such actions tend to the hindrance or advancement of religion and good manners.”7 In practice, the claim to be the final judge of what hinders and advances religion gives “the Pope[s] all authority whatsoever they should declare to be necessary in ordine ad spiritualia, that is to say, in order to religion” (Be- hemoth, 215). This leaves Christian kings with “none or very little” power (171).

In Hobbes’ account, the clergy’s natural ambition led them to invent new articles of faith that serve to increase the num- ber of occasions on which they might claim to exercise their “indirect” power to rule. Not least of these was the doctrine of celibate priests, something that prevents a king desirous of legitimate heirs from ever becoming the head of the Church (Behemoth, 180). But belief in the miracle of transubstantia- tion, priestly absolution, the necessity of auricular confession for salvation (especially when combined with the teaching that “the very first motions of the human mind, that is to say, the delight men and women take in the sight of one another’s form,” constitute a violation of God’s command- ments),8 and the institution of universities to train traveling friars to preach these doctrines—all these things combined to make the people “stand in awe of Pope and clergy, more than they would of the King” (181–2, 180, 183, 196, 213). The difficulty is that the claims or spheres of spiritual and tempo- ral power overlap and thus make conflict inevitable. While Hobbes admits that the papacy would have been able to retain its authority in England had Pope Clement VII not crossed Henry in his second marriage, its authority would only have endured “till there had arisen some other quarrel” (Behemoth,

186–7). For Hobbes, the papacy is inherently an unstable and destabilizing institution, and the seeds of the Protestant Ref- ormation were sown with the political doctrines contained in the Gospels.

Yet the Reformation was itself no cure. The establishment of a national church with the king at its head failed to put an end to problems that may have seemed to arise from the papacy, because the distinction between spiritual and tempo- ral power remained alive. Indeed, a number of bishops went along with Henry VIII because they were at that time them- selves embroiled in a controversy with the Roman Court as to whether they exercised their power immediately from God or only through the mediation of the Pope. But when they held “their power no more from the Pope, they never thought of holding it of the King” and so became a kind of multitude of popes (Behemoth, 188).9 Worse, the ensuing disputes among the Roman and various reformed churches “could not choose but make every man, to the best of his power, examine by the Scriptures, which one of them was in the right” (190). From this arose the need for English translations of the Bible, which, contrary to the bishops’ original intention, led “every man, nay every boy and wench, that could read English, [to think] they spoke with God Almighty, and understood what he said, when, by reading a certain number of chapters a day they had read the Scriptures once or twice over” (234–5, 190). The difficulties in Scripture gave rise to even greater “diversity of opinion” and a corresponding multiplication of sects whose only point of agreement was that they considered “politics subservient to religion” (363, 228–9).

At the same time, the educated gentry, who confused them- selves with “democratical principles” imbibed from their study of the classics (192, 358), and the lawyers and jurists with their belief that the “the government of England was not an absolute but a mixed monarchy” (306), contributed to eroding respect for royal power. But, for Hobbes, it was the political pretensions of the Presbyterians and other sects that bore the greatest responsibility for undermining the le- gitimacy of King Charles in the eyes of the people: and “the power of the mighty hath no foundation but in the opinion and belief of the people” (184; cf. 343). On the Presbyteri- ans’ heads are the 100,000 dead from the subsequent years of civil war (282, 166, 197, 267, 332–3, 343, 363, 372–3). So long as they maintain “their former principles” (417), Interlocutor B doubts that the restoration of Charles II can result in a lasting peace. “B: For aught I see, all the states of Christendom will be subject to these fits of rebellion, as long as the world lasteth.”10 Interlocutor A, however, retains some hope: “A: Like enough, and yet the fault, as I have said, may be easily mended by mending the Universities” (252). Hobbes presents his plan to mend the Universities, and with them the fractured states of Christendom, in the Leviathan.11

The subtitle of Hobbes’ revolutionary work is infrequently cited. Yet “The Matter, Forme, and Power of a Common- wealth Ecclesiastical and Civill” provides a direct statement of his chief innovation. In what his contemporaries under- stood to be a novel doctrine, Hobbes unites ecclesiastical and civil powers into a single sovereign that derives its legit- imacy from one and the same source: the consent of individ- uals who by nature possess the unlimited right to everything

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(Leviathan, 91–2, 114, 120).12 As in Behemoth, Hobbes is keen to refute the advocates of a mixed regime. But his larger goal, if measured only in terms of the sheer bulk of pages devoted to the aim, is to rout those who would oppose his political absolutism on religious grounds. Indeed, the chapter devoted to the sovereign’s absolute rights opens with a de- nunciation of those who lay claim to higher duties based on a covenant with God: “this pretense of a covenant with God is so evidently a lie, even in the pretenders’ own consciences, that it is not only an act of an unjust, but also of a vile and un- manly disposition” (122). The antitheological meaning and intention of his absolutism, already implicit in his description of man’s natural condition,13 becomes manifest in Hobbes’ response to the anticipated objection of those who think his sovereign too powerful. He simply transposes a traditional argument for the omnipotence of God into his own humanis- tic key. “And whosoever thinking Sovereign Power too great, will seek to make it less; must subject himself to the Power that can limit it; that is to say, to a greater” (145; cf. 128).

Sovereignty is above all indivisible. Certain rights of sovereignty, such as coining money, disposing of minors’ estates, and regulating markets, can safely be transferred or delegated because doing so does not necessarily undermine the sovereign’s ability to protect his subjects. But other rights are indivisible because to give them away would compromise this end. Thus, “if he tranferre the Militia, he retains the Ju- dicature in vain, for want of execution of the Lawes: Or if he grant away the Power of raising money; the Militia is in vain.” Most important, “if he gives away the Government of Doctrines, men will be frightened into rebellion with the fear of Spirits,” for “in the well governing of Opinions, consisteth the well governing of mens Actions, in order to their Peace and Concord” (Leviathan, 127, 124). In practice, this means he can, among other things, determine which Books of Scrip- ture are or are not canonical, and within that canon proclaim the authoritative interpretation of any passage. Moreover, he decrees who is and who is not to be recognized as a prophet (Leviathan, 267–9, 273, 298–300, 354, 356, 359–63). This seems to imply that Hobbes’ sovereign, the artificial cre- ation of the human will (9–11, 123), is for all practical pur- poses superior to God’s will, at least insofar as that will is expressed by means of Scripture or prophetic revelation. In case of conflict, the human will and end reign supreme (227). Bishop Bramhall saw the implication of the argument when he wrote: “[Hobbes’] fifth conclusion may be the sharpest and most successfull sword, in any war whatsoever, [as it] doth give soveraign power and authority to him that hath it, to approve or reject all sorts of Theologicall doctrines, con- cerning the Kingdome of God, not according to their truth or falsehood, but according to that influence which they have upon political affaires.”14

Hobbes, for his part, denies the possibility of conflict be- tween true Doctrine and peace, and thus between Scripture and the sovereign, or at least between Scripture and his po- litical system. His argument is bold in its simplicity. He first derives the rights of sovereign power “from the Principles of Nature onley” as determined by our senses, experience, and reason. Hobbes’ Commonwealth is then the regime in accord with natural reason, or what he calls, in what is hard

not to take as an invidious distinction, “that which is the undoubted Word of God” (Leviathan, 255). But because God is the author of both man’s reason and the Bible, there can be nothing in the one contrary to the other. Therefore, there can be no political teaching in the Bible contrary to that set down in the Leviathan (255–6). This postulate requires Hobbes to give some rather astonishing interpretations of Scripture, in- terpretations he knew likely to prove controversial.15 Without going into the arresting and often amusing details of his read- ing of the Bible,16 the central strand of his argument makes clear the general character of his exegesis.

Because nothing in the Bible is contrary to natural reason, it must also at its core be consistent with itself. This means that the Old and New Testaments must be in fundamental agreement with one another (Leviathan, 335, 338, 408–9). Hobbes makes it halfway to the achievement of this synthe- sis by reducing the political teaching of the Old Testament to obedience to the civil sovereign, period. But he does admit to his mostly Christian readers that “[s]o far forth as concerned the Right [of the Sovereign]; yet it appeareth by the same Holy History, that the [Jewish] people understood it not.”17

The Israelites frequently considered the priests’ authority supreme, something Hobbes attributes to their stubborn de- sire to keep always “in store a pretext, either of Justice or Religion, to discharge themselves of their obedience [to the King]” (229, 230). This is a charge he also levels against Christians. Indeed, as we have seen from the Behemoth, Hobbes knew that an argument for strict obedience to the sovereign and his civil laws would be widely understood by Christians as even less compatible with the New Testament than the Old.

From Hobbes’ point of view, Matthew 10:28 is perhaps the most difficult and dangerous of Biblical passages to recon- cile with his doctrine. It both elaborates a distinction between political and religious spheres and articulates a compelling reason for the superiority of the later. “Fear not them which kill the body and after that have power to do naught; but rather fear Him who after He had killed the body, has power to condemn to hell.” In the Behemoth, Hobbes’ Interlocutor A gives an ad hominem response to this verse by reformu- lating it in the following manner: “For my part, I should rather obey that master that had the right of making laws and inflicting punishments, than him that pretendeth only to a right of making canons, that is to say, rules, and no right of co-action, or otherwise punishing, but by excommunica- tion.” B completes this interpretation of the verse when he infers that A must not believe that canons are in fact laws or excommunication a real punishment, “else you would rather have chosen to obey that Pope, that would cast your body and soul into hell, than the King, that can only kill the body.” A justifies his conclusion on the grounds that it would be “very uncharitable” for him to accept that “all Englishmen, except a few Papists,” should be damned.

In the Leviathan, Hobbes gives a more general response. He quotes the verse from Matthew, if in a truncated form, as part of his effort to overcome the difficulty, “not yet suf- ficiently resolved,” to which it gives rise: namely, whether to obey God or man “when their Commandments are one contrary to the other” (Leviathan, 402–3). He grants that it

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would be “madness” to obey any command that would result in “being damned to Eternall Death” and maintains that the Unum Necesarium for salvation is belief or faith in the simple proposition that “Jesus is Christ” (403, 407). Yet even this minimalist interpretation of what Scripture demands would still seem to provide the opportunity for a principled disobe- dience to the sovereign that Hobbes is otherwise so intent to deny. This appears to be all the more so because Hobbes also admits that Christian “[f]aith is the gift of God; and he giveth it to whom he will” (406).18 Such grace appears to inject a transcendent and therefore destabilizing political claim. But what Hobbes gives with one hand he takes away with the other by further arguing that the gift of faith confers no special status.

All good things proceed from God; yet cannot all that have them, say they are Inspired; for that implies a gift supernatu- rall, and the immediate hand of God; which he that pretends to, pretends to be a Prophet, and is subject to the examination of the Church (407; cf. 298).

To complete the circle, one need only recall that the church itself is subject to the sovereign (376–7, 227), and, except for those who spoke directly with God the Father or our Savior, belief means belief in what other men have said, much as the “immediate cause” of faith is hearing what is taught, both activities likewise subject to the sovereign’s control (405, 406, 344–5, 124–5).

On the surface, Hobbes’ doctrine of obedience bears some resemblance to the religious teachings of Calvin or certain Non-resisters in the sense that they all teach what could seem to be extreme deference to political authority.19 But their ba- sis and spirit could hardly be more opposed.20 This comes to light in the exceptions to obedience that each allows. For ex- ample, while Calvin preaches submission even to tyrannical rulers as the providential instruments of God’s justice, there is a limit or qualification to this submission:

But in that obedience which we hold to be due to the com- mands of rulers, we must always make the exception, nay must be particularly careful that it is not incompatible with obedience to Him to whose will the wishes of all kings should be subject, to whose decrees their commands must yield, to whose majesty their scepters must bow. And, indeed, how ab- surd were it, in pleasing men, to incur the offence of Him for whose sake you obey men. . . . If they command anything against Him let us not pay the least regard to it, nor be moved by all the dignity which they possess as magistrates—a dig- nity to which no injury is done when it is subordinated to the special and truly supreme power of God.21

Similarly, even Non-resisters preemptively resisted when faced with the prospect that the “infidel” James II would impose the Roman Catholic faith on Protestant England.22

But Hobbes maintains that an infidel who as civil sovereign forbids the practice and teaching of Christianity in any form must be obeyed even in this. In Hobbes’ hands the Bible would teach that the Christian has a Christian duty to acqui- esce even in measures taken for the apparent destruction of Christianity. He seems to take a certain delight in then point- ing out that any who would complain that the widespread acceptance of such a teaching makes it easy for the sovereign to crush resistance are in fact objecting to the occasion for

certain martyrdom, and therefore acting in bad faith and with but little trust in God (Leviathan, 413–4, 399–400, 343–4).23

Yet Hobbes, too, admits of an exception to the obedience due the sovereign, although not on the basis of any religious claim or scruple. Because the end of the institution of the common- wealth is self-preservation and protection from other men, when the sovereign either directly threatens or can no longer defend him, the subject is free to disobey. To do otherwise, Hobbes echoes here the form though not the content of the Calvinist argument, would be an absurd sacrifice of the end to the means (124, 121, 136, 150–4, 230).

The events leading up to the Revolution of 1688 show the optimism of Interlocutor A in the Behemoth to have been misplaced. The religious problem could not be disposed of merely by an act of Parliament recognizing the King’s right to control the militia. There is something perhaps even more utopian in Hobbes’ apparent hope that were the Leviathan to be adopted and promulgated by the universities, it would put an end to the multiplication of religious sects and unite them in obedience to a common authority.24 The initial reaction of many university men and theologians was in fact to denounce its author as a political atheist. For a time it even looked as though Hobbes would be prosecuted for heresy.25 On the basis of his own doctrine he could hardly have objected to any subsequent conviction as unjust. He would nevertheless have been hard pressed to consider such an outcome a success.26

Martyrdom, in any cause, held no charm for him.

LOCKE: ECCLESIASTICAL LIBERTY AND SEPARATION

Locke is the most influential theorist of the separation of church and state. This makes it all the more striking that he fails to mention in the Letter Concerning Toleration any of the usual scriptural passages that would seem to support his position.27 True, Locke does quote some scripture at the be- ginning of the Letter in an effort to show that toleration is “the chief characteristical mark of the true Church.”28 Yet his citations fall well short of meeting the standard of an express command or even mention that he sets for others who wish to invoke the authority of the Bible (LCT , 23, 25). The func- tion of the biblical quotations in the Letter is not to ground toleration in revelation but to impugn the motives of those who would use revelation as a pretext to claim “power and empire over one another” (13–5, 30–1, 32–4, 50). Indeed, some things mentioned and expressly commanded by Scrip- ture are declared intolerable by Locke as implying opinions “contrary to human society” (61–2).

Yet perhaps Locke derives separation not from any explicit passage of Scripture but as an implication from the Christian concept of liberty of conscience. According to this line of interpretation, the separation of church and state is necessary because the instruments of political authority are apparently inadequate to reach man’s inward disposition (LCT , 19–21, 41). But whatever the enormous historical influence of this kind of argument, it cannot have been Locke’s final word. First, he knew that putting too much stress on conscience runs the risk of making all external acts and ceremonies reli- giously indifferent and therefore unobjectionably subject to the magistrate’s control.29 Second, as an empirical question

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it is by no means clear that political power cannot change men’s hearts and minds. There is certainly much histori- cal evidence to the contrary, to say nothing of Locke’s own complaint elsewhere in the Letter of how easily “the clergy changed their decrees, their articles of faith, their form of worship, every thing,” according to the inclination of certain kings and queens (40).30 Indeed, numerous passages from the Essay show how little Locke thought human opinions were formed or influenced by “light and evidence” (LCT , 21).31

But, most conclusive, Locke himself admits in the Letter that even if “the rigors of the law and force of penalties were ca- pable to convince and change men’s minds,” this would not alter the case he makes for the necessity of separating church and state (LCT , 21). Its basis must therefore rest elsewhere.

Locke does think a prudent magistrate can rule in a manner such that conflicts between his authority and the conscience of a subject “will seldom happen.” But seldom is not never. And when they do happen, Locke is as adamant as Hobbes that conscience gives way to law. He also follows Hobbes in reducing conscience to the status of “private judgment.”32

I say, that such a private person is to abstain from the actions that he judges unlawful; and he is to undergo the punish- ment, which it is not unlawful for him to bear; for the private judgment of any person concerning a law enacted in political matters, for the public good, does not take away the obligation of that law, nor deserve a dispensation (59).

While this means no more in fact than that a religious ob- jector is as free to follow his conscious as is any common thief to follow his profession, Hobbes would still no doubt chide Locke by pointing out that the passive obedience he seems to sanction here is neither passive nor obedient.33 But Locke agrees with Hobbes on the more fundamental point: the secular ends of public peace and prosperity serve as the ultimate standard of what is tolerable or intolerable. Even Christianity must submit to it.34 And in every case but one Locke subjects the conscience to political authority.

The genuine difference between Hobbes and Locke on whether we have a duty to renounce or change our religion derives from their differences over the issue of absolutism. Hobbes’ absolutism required or allowed him to deny the pos- sibility of a “mixed monarchy” and to conflate church and state. Locke’s opposition to Hobbesian or any other abso- lutism is what led him to develop his doctrine of the separa- tion of church and state. Yet Locke does this through recourse to the same principles that underlie Hobbes’ state of nature teaching, while drawing from them different consequences.

Locke, unlike Hobbes, distinguishes between the State of Nature and a State of War, even if the right of each to execute the Laws of Nature that follows from man’s “perfect freedom” and “equality,” makes the State of Nature “apt to end” in a State of War as dangerous and violent as that described by Hobbes.35 Locke grants that civil government is the proper remedy for the “defects” and “inconveniences of the State of Nature.” But in establishing political society, he insists we do so reasonably, that is, we must follow the principle that guides all sound physicians: the cure must be no worse than the disease. According to Locke, living under the kind of government Hobbes proposes, in which the sovereign

“has his Liberty to Judge in his own case, and may do to his subjects whatever he pleases, without the least liberty of any one to question or controle those who execute his Pleasure,” is worse than continuing in the State of Nature even when it has developed into a State of War (Second Treatise, §13, 90, 171–2, 225). It is the equivalent of fleeing the mischiefs done by polecats for the greater harms inflicted on us by lions (§93).

Reasonable or legitimate government therefore means lim- ited government. For Locke, any claim to rule based on divine ordination or sanction risks transforming itself into an abso- lutism incompatible with and destructive of man’s perfect freedom or natural liberty, and, ultimately, a threat to his preservation. We can then see why, in the Letter Concerning Toleration, he

esteem[s] it above all things necessary to distinguish exactly the business of civil government from that of religion. . . so that some may not color their spirit of persecution and un- Christian cruelty with a pretense of care of the public weal, and observation of the laws, and that others, under pretense of religion, may not seek impunity for their libertinism and licentiousness; in a word, that none may impose either upon himself or others, by the pretenses of loyalty and obedience to the prince, or of tenderness and sincerity in the worship of God (LCT , 17–8, emphasis added).