Kitabı oku: «The Freedom of Science», sayfa 32
Restriction of Right
We need no further proof that the state is justified in restricting the freedom of teaching, whenever demanded by the business of the state as described above. Restriction of this kind can be considered unjustified only by a state theory of liberalism, which holds that the object of the state consists in merely protecting individual liberty, no matter if this liberty should lead to the gravest injuries so long as it does not affect the freedom of others; a theory which changes the state community from an integral organism into a conglomeration of autonomous individuals. Lasalle scornfully termed this theory the “nightwatchman idea” of the state. The state has the right and the duty to exert a necessary influence upon the pursuit of science, especially at the universities. Against it the pleading of autonomy of the college and its teacher will not hold. They have a certain autonomy, that was even greater in former times. An important part of it is the right to propose appointments for vacant chairs. It must be admitted that this method of appointment is proper; it vouches for the scientific fitness of the appointee, and will prove a protection against the exercise of undue political influence and ministerial absolutism, provided that this method is impartially exercised. But an autonomy that disputes the right of the state to protect its interests, where free science conflicts with it, that would demand, as has been asserted, that “no infringement of the freedom in teaching must be deduced from the official position as teacher,” – such autonomy would be a palpable misconception of the dependency of the college-teacher and of the social service of science. The rules that apply to other, non-judicial, officers should apply to teachers appointed by the state, and offences in their office, or conduct injurious to the purpose and the dignity of their office, should be treated similarly as in the case of other public servants. Nor should members of the legislature be forbidden to defend the rightful interests of their constituents in regard to schools. They are elected by the people for this purpose, and the people have a claim on the schools, which are supported by their taxes and to which some of their greatest interests are attached.
It has been demanded to concede to college-teachers the independence and immunity of judges. This, however, would be overlooking the vast difference between professors and judges. The judge has to render legal decisions in concrete cases, according to existing laws; in order to lessen the danger of his being guided by outside considerations he is given a large measure of independence. But what questions has the college-professor to decide? Mathematical or physical questions? There his incorruptibility is not in such danger that he must be made independent of government. Religious and moral questions, questions of views of the world? These he is not compelled to decide. Neither state nor people have appointed him to question, time and again, the fundamental foundations of human life, and to render decisions which nobody requested.
It is not clear why science, pleading its independence, should oppose justified restrictions. As a matter of fact this independence does not exist anywhere. Numerous are the considerations, often unwarranted, it is actually tied to, yea, often tied to by its own hands. He who is familiar with scientific doings, especially academic doings, knows numbers of such ties – there is the professional opinion in scientific circles; woe unto him who in his scientific works dares to confess a supernatural view of the world! – ties of the predominance of certain leaders or schools, without or against whose favor it is difficult to attain recognition, approval, or position; the ties of parties and cliques in an academic career; the tie, too, of that insinuating power of the state that confers much-desired decorations and titles.
“Where is this freedom of science?” asks a modern academic teacher. “Some will say science and its teaching are free in our country. True, it is so written on paper. But those charged with keeping this principle inviolate are human. For instance the monists have the chief voice in appointments to zoölogical chairs. They will propose only scientists who are not opponents to the monistic faith. Far be it from me to assume any mala fides. They simply believe that only their faith is the proper one to promote science. But I ask again, where is the freedom of science?” (Dahl).
H. St. Chamberlain tells of an amusing incident in his life: “Many years ago, when I desired to devote myself to an academic career, a chemist said to me: ‘My dear fellow, since you belong to the profession, I tell you as a friend that it is not enough for you to be proficient: you should try, first of all, to marry the daughter of one of the professors, of a privy counsellor if possible.’ ‘This advice comes too late,’I replied, ‘I am already married.’ My well-wisher was visibly shocked. ‘What a pity! Too bad! You don't realize what an influence this has here upon one's career.’ What trouble I had to obtain even the venia docendi! and then I stuck fast and could not budge despite all achievements until I undertook to marry the daughter of one of the ‘head-wirepullers’; then things were fixed within three months. I may have looked at him in a peculiar way, for his wife was a veritable Xanthippe, and, he added with a laugh: ‘You know I am all day at the laboratory, from morning until late at night.’ ” There is nothing new under the sun. In the year of grace, 1720, Johann Jacob Moser started his lectures in Tuebingen, but could get no audience. “No wonder, even a cleverer man than I would not have fared better at that time, when everything depended on nepotism.” The young man had crossed Chancellor Pfaff by rejecting a marriage arrangement (Horn).
One will find these things very human. Moreover, it would be unwarranted to assume that they happen always and everywhere. But they prove that the pursuit of science rests also on general human grounds, and does not always remain aloft, in the ethereal heights of pure truth.
The Freedom of Teaching in History
When we said that it is the duty of the state to protect the common benefits of life against injury by freedom in teaching, and to stand guard over its Christian past, we stated nothing but what has been the conviction of the Christian nations and their rulers up into the nineteenth century. Absolute freedom in teaching cannot plead the support of history, it is only of yesterday. History shows it to be the natural child, not of the first awakening of the consciousness of freedom, but of the de-Christianizing of the modern state. Its official entry coincides with the increasing de-christianizing of public life during the nineteenth century, after the modern state adopted more and more the principles of liberal thought. A naturalistic view of the world, without faith, was struggling for supremacy; science had to proclaim it as higher enlightenment, and vehemently urged freedom in its behalf. The state receded step by step, confused by the commanding note in the new demands, by high-sounding words about the rights of science; it allowed itself to be talked into the belief that it must become the leader in the new course, and it took the banner that was forced into its hands. It has always been so; claims presented with impudence will intimidate, and assume in the eyes of many the appearance of right.
In so far as it signifies the removal of the religious-moral bars in teaching, the freedom in teaching developed first in Protestant Germany, together with the increasing change of universities into state institutions. Reformation and the ensuing Enlightenment had gradually prepared the way for it. Neither the rationalism nor the pietism of the eighteenth century could have an understanding for the tenets of the faith. In addition there was the confusion engendered by the multiplication of Protestant denominations, none supported by an overtowering spiritual authority; it led more and more to the parting between science and religious confession; political reasons, too, made it desirable to disregard confessions. Thus the severance of science from religion increased and the “freedom of teaching” in this sense was finally adopted also by Catholic states as an achievement.
The enlightenment that had developed outside of the universities made its entry into the halls of universities chiefly under the Prussian Minister von Zedlitz, a champion of enlightenment and a friend of the philosophers Wolff and Kant. That the universities at that time were controlled by free-thinkers is illustrated by a saying of Frederick II. On January 4, 1774, von Zedlitz asked of the king whether Steinhauss, M.D., should be denied the appointment for professor extraordinary at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, for the reason that he was a Catholic. The king decreed in his own handwriting that “This does not matter if he is clever; besides, doctors know too much to have belief” (Bornhak).
In the year of the Revolution, 1848, freedom of teaching became a political catch-word. “The terms freedom of teaching and freedom of learning, that became popular in 1848, when any phrase compounded with freedom could not be often enough repeated, have been ever since reminiscent of barricades, and men who have witnessed those times become nervous at their mere sound” (Billroth).
What was understood by freedom in teaching at the turning point of the eighteenth century is shown by the demand of Thomasius for “freedom of doctrines that are not against God and the state.” The first move was to break away from human authorities, Aristotle and others. Thus the Kiel University, by its regulation of January 27, 1707, ordered that “no faculty should enslave itself to certain principles or opinions, in so far as they are dependent on a human authority”(Horn).
In Göttingen and Halle freedom of teaching also became the maxim, and “Libertas sentiendi,” as Münchhausen declared, “was open to every one and not restrained by statute, except that there should be taught nothing ungodly and Unchristian.” In those days this restriction was looked upon as a matter of course. It is known that Kantwas disciplined by Minister Woellner in 1794, because of his treatise on religion; at Koenigsberg this reproof was accepted with good grace, and both the philosophical and the theological faculties pledged themselves not to lecture on Kant's religious philosophy. As recently as the middle of the nineteenth century a restriction in this sense was ordered by the Prussian Minister Eichhorn, and the restriction was observed. The Materialist Moleschott was cautioned in 1845 by the Senate of Heidelberg University, and in reply he resigned his post; in the following year at Tübingen Büchner's venia legendi was cancelled, because, as he himself stated, “it was feared I would poison with my teaching the minds of my young students” (Horn).
In 1842, Bruno Bauer, the radical Bible-critic, was removed by the Prussian faculties from the academic chair because of his writings. D. Strauss lectured on philosophy at Tübingen, but was forced to resign when the first volume of his “Life of Jesus” appeared in 1835. Later on, when called by the authorities of Zurich to the chair for Church history and dogmatics, an emphatic protest of the people made the appointment impossible.
While showing a regrettable indifference for attacks against religion, the modern states, inoculated with the principles of Liberalism, have not entirely forgotten their traditions. Many sections in their penal codes still protect religion, not only against defamation, but, as is the case in Austria, also against public anti-Christian propaganda, and the “religious-moral education” in public schools is made compulsory by law. Of course there is a contradiction, between the conviction of the state that the principles of morals and religion must be preserved, and the grant of full freedom to an anti-religious misuse of science, whose effect upon the masses is unavoidable. It is a contradiction to tear down the dam at the river and then erect emergency levees against the onrushing flood. The amazing presumption, that holds inviolate and sacred everything that poses under the name of science, is the fault of it all.
Freedom of Teaching and Party Rule
In some countries the complaint is heard that a certain faction has obtained control of the universities, and so exercises its control that those who are not of its bent of mind are excluded from both teaching and taking part in the administration of its affairs, despite the fact that freedom in teaching and learning has been guaranteed by the state. It is the faction that professes free-thought and cultivates the freedom of science in this sense. This condition forces students faithful to their religion to study in a strange atmosphere, and they are looked upon as strangers. The parties so accused seek to disclaim these charges as unjust; for they feel that, if justified, it would disclose an unlawful condition of things. Nevertheless the facts are so notorious, that all protestations will be without avail.
These facts must be painful to the sense of justice, order, and good-fellowship; and to this sense it is not pleasing to deal further with matters which have often been the cause for indignant resentment, and to go into concrete details. We shall but briefly recall to mind how persistently candidates for academic positions are pushed aside when they are known to be of staunch Catholic mind. This is borne out by their trifling percentage among the large number of college-teachers; by the high pressure that is often needed to lift the embargo for a Catholic; by assaults which not seldom resulted in physical violence. This small number is glaringly emphasized by the considerable, even disquieting, number of college lecturers of Jewish extraction. Furthermore, there is the improper usage that the theological faculty is passed over at the annual election of the rector, and likewise, that teachers even of lay-faculties are excluded from academic offices when they profess themselves openly as Catholics.
Catholic students have seen themselves treated as strangers at more than one university; they were not given the usual privileges, and were accorded rights only in the proportion that their number had to be reckoned with. Their corporate bodies were ignored, self-evident rights either denied or grossly violated.
As to the small number of religious-minded lecturers at colleges it is not to be denied that the number of those who combine fervent religious persuasion with high scientific efficacy is not considerable these days. Their long suppression furnishes a reason for it, but not the only one. A modern university professor rightly states: “While there never has been a want of courageous, determined confessors of the Catholic faith who have occupied a prominent, even leading, position in the progress of science, in the perfection of methods and means of scientific research, they were and still are the exception. They were men of self-reliance and independent judgment, who were able to exempt themselves from an humble submission to the powerful view of the world, which emanates from the hatred of Christianity and prevails in educated circles. The issue is still the same secular contrast between the two views of the world, which St. Augustine illustrated with unsurpassed mastery as long as fifteen hundred years ago. But the view of the world which has been in the ascendant in scientific circles long since, has certainly nothing in common with scientific research.”
Our task, however, is not to examine the facts, but to prove that such conditions are unlawful, no matter where and when found. We do not wish to discuss further the fact that a university polity, exclusively in the spirit of a liberalism that gradually goes over into radicalism, would constitute a grave danger for Christian traditions. Indifference to the Christian and every other religion, or to an extent direct rejection, must make it appear more and more inferior and obsolete in the eyes of educated circles; this view will then easily find its way to the people. Nor do we intend to enlarge upon a second point, viz., the interest of science itself. The kernel of liberal research in the province of the spiritual is a frivolous agnosticism, with a rigid bondage to its naturalistic postulates, with which we have become sufficiently acquainted. Principles of this kind are poison for true science. For this reason alone it is necessary that a Christian philosophy be placed by the side of a philosophy in fear of metaphysics, one that never extends beyond puzzles and problems; that a history guided by Christian principles be placed alongside of one inspired by anti-ecclesiastical sentiment; in general that a spirit of veracity assert itself, which would give an example, from the home of highest culture, not of vain arrogance, but of that mental firmness which, conscious of the limits of human knowledge, is also ready to believe. How can our universities remain the seats of sterling mental life, if the highest power of truth that has ever been, the Christian religion, is ignored there, and even maligned; and if in its stead is cultivated a philosophical-religious research which leads only to the negation of everything that hitherto was our ideal, and which gives birth to a mental anarchy, which, before the forum of history, makes it a principle of pauperization.
One point to be particularly emphasized is the violation of rights and the oppression of mental liberty, resulting from a party-rule in the realm of higher education. Under a government of law every one, assuming he possesses the necessary qualification, has an equal right to teach: this is elemental to freedom of teaching. The state with its institutions exists for the benefit of all classes, not for one certain class that has formed the notion that it is the sole bearer of science. Enemies of the state should be excluded from teaching, but not good citizens. Nor can it be demanded, as a necessary preliminary for academic teaching, that one must subscribe to the catch-phrases of any particular party, and so discard one's religious belief. And there is the violation of the rights of faithful Christian people. Since their money in the form of taxes maintains to a large extent the schools and their teachers, they surely can demand a conscientious administration of their interests, and a representation of the Christian view of the world, in a way becoming its past and its dignity; Christian people can demand that their sons receive an education in consonance with their Christian convictions, and that the universities will train officials, physicians, and teachers, in whom they may have confidence. If there are no other but state universities in a country, and these are monopolized by a free-thought party, then a condition of mental bondage will arise for those of a different mind. They are compelled either to have their sons forego the learned profession, or else expose them to an atmosphere wherein they see danger of a religious and moral nature, in ideas, association, and example. No right is left to them, but the right to pay taxes toward the budget of education, and then to look on how an irreligious party is striving to turn the higher schools into training camps of obligatory liberalism, and to monopolize the entire mental life for this purpose. Now and then there is great indignation against state monopolies; it is said, shall the state determine what kind of cigars I should smoke, and what I am to pay for them! Now, then, where is freedom if the majority of the Christian population is to be forced into taking mental nourishment it does not desire and rejects, and pay for it besides? If we recall to mind the past, which gave birth to the most venerable universities of the present, a sorrowful feeling comes over us. We see how far our colleges have deviated from their original purpose, how our governments have lost their old traditions. Promotion of the Christian religion and of the fear of God, was the lofty aim which their founders had in mind.
In bestowing the charter upon Vienna University, Duke Albrechtstated that he beheld in the university an institution “whereby the glory of the Creator in heaven and His true faith on earth would be furthered, knowledge would be increased, the state benefited, and the light of justice and truth brightened.” And when, in 1366, he donated property to the university, he declared the object of the donation to be “that the university may increase the prosperity of the entire Church.”
When Leopold I, on April 26, 1677, signed the charter of Innsbruck University he declared that he founded this university pre-eminently for the protection and prosperity of the Catholic Religion, as a means for its preservation, and also that many of those who had lost the faith might be led back to religion, for the honour and the glory of the Tyrol.
In the charter of Tübingen University, Eberhard of Württemberg states: “I believe I can do no better work, none more helpful to gain salvation, none more pleasing to the eternal God, than to provide with special diligence and emulation for the instruction of good and zealous young men in the fine arts and sciences, to enable them to recognize God, to know, to honour, and to serve Him alone.” “In those days there was no hesitation to assign to science the loftiest vocation and to declare … that, coming from God, science should also lead back to Him as its origin… The school was charged to work for the spread and the defence of the true belief. Christian truth was once queen at these universities; now, she has only too often become a stranger, to be denounced at times if she attempts to knock at the portals of her old home” (Probst).