By Crispin Sartwell
One question that has always nagged at me is how Christianity (for example) ends up
dominating much of the world for millennia. This of course is only a question on the supposition that
Christianity is false.
But not only do I think it's false; in some sense I think it's arbitrary; that a wide variety of
mythical cycles other than Christ's passion and a wide variety of other messiahs could have done
as well. Really, you could not throw a brick in the Middle East of that era (or almost anywhere in
the world today, for that matter) without hitting some chump performing miracles and claiming the Godhead.
But there are indeed compelling aspects to Christianity: the idea of God made fully human, for
example - perhaps Christianity's most characteristic teaching - though it is not entirely unique and
is not (obviously, I guess) logically coherent, is a powerful idea.
An interesting lesson about the genesis of religions can, I think, be learned from Rastafarianism, a
religion of the 20th century. I say this not to ridicule Rastafarianism: which is as plausible as any
religion and has its own extremely compelling aspects. I say this, rather, to understand the
phenomenon of religion from an external point of view, as someone who finds the whole thing
fundamentally unbelievable.
Rastafarianism worships the Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie as God. Selassie is in some ways an
unlikely candidate: small and unprepossessing, pretty mild though pretty inefficient, with a
grandiose streak but not one that extended to claiming his own divinity. As emperors go, fairly
mediocre, deposed, and dead as a doornail. The charismatic origin of the religion, however, was
Marcus Garvey, who had a gift of leadership and organization, and who was perhaps the first
international star to emerge from the island of Jamaica. Sometimes he talked or wrote in a kind of
prophetic style, and through oral transmission, various prophecies attributed to him flowed into
common wisdom, as perhaps John the Baptist's did about Jesus.
And when Jamaicans saw pictures of Selassie's coronation in 1930, they interpreted it as a
fulfillment of those prophecies. And the sight of a black emperor in a world essentially created and
sustained by racial oppression had to be extremely powerful, as was the pro-peasant political
rhetoric of Jesus (camel and eye of needle, e.g.). As Nietzsche saw, a situation of profound
oppression generates extreme energy: if nothing else, a kind of infinite backlog of resentment that
can be suddenly unleashed.
And the ideas that you should look for your salvation here on earth and that "mighty god is a
living man" are also compelling as responses to oppression (and oppressive Christianity, in
particular, which teaches one patience in the face of suffering, and a spiritual rather than a
physical compensation) Then a kind of epistemic stubbornness sets in in which every disproof of
the belief system only actually confirms it. The Rastas were no more likely to believe the
Babylonian press's reporting about Selassie than Middle Eastern peasants were likely to believe
Roman heralds.
Jesus could not die, and his death become simply the occasion for his resurrection. Selassie, of
course, is not dead either, and every report of his death is simply a confirmation of the conspiracy
by which his immortality is covered up. Every criticism of him is a lie, and you can see exactly
what the motivation is: the continuing repression of his religion and his people.
Were Rastafarianism to become a great world religion, its origins would soon (and actually have
been already, to some extent) shrouded in mystery, and pulling apart the authentic details of
Selassie's life (or Garvey's, Howell's, Marley's etc) from the propaganda put forward (and
believed) by his suporters and by his opponents would be impossible.
In some sense, almost anyone would do as well as Selassie, and he was no more intrinsically
suited for divinity (indeed, perhaps less) than Clara Bow or Warren G. Harding. But he showed
up in the right role at the right moment and got appointed.
To be honest, I don't think Jesus was probably any better - in some sense it might have been
anybody. But the belief system reached a certain critical mass and had its own
momentum: for one
thing, it had its own structures of justification, by which it confirmed itself continually while
muddying its own history beyond legibility.
Meanwhile, Rastafarianism remains (of course, this is only 70 years later), basically
uninstitutionalized, and basically a mode of resistance to oppression, whereas Christianity long,
long ago became itself a set of oppressive power structures. But while they constitute means of
fighting power - economic, political, epistemic - such religions are admirable even if false.
Once they mutate into power structures, however, the self-serving absurdities in which they are
couched become intolerable.
But the epistemic point might end up being this: it's the very arbitrariness and perversity of the
belief systems that ends up making them compelling, that demands faith.