Essay on "Remarks on the Southern Religion"
by Robert W. Watson
(6 October 2001)

The critical essays of Allen Tate are among the best in American letters. While attending Vanderbilt University, Tate developed a close relationship with the Fugitives including John Crowe Ransom and Donald Davidson. However, beginning in 1924, Tate lived in New York for six years, which later proved to be a prolific period for the poet and critic. It was at this time that Tate writes his biographies, Stonewall Jackson: The Good Soldier and Jefferson Davis: His Rise and Fall. Also, his agrarianism began to emerge more philosophically. Tate was convinced that the Southern way of life was superior to the alienation created by American industrialism. His best known poem that reflects this theme is "Ode to the Confederate Dead." His novel, The Fathers, also reveals his belief in the superiority of a tradition that is whole and complete as opposed to that which is incoherent and forced.

In his essay, "Remarks on the Southern Religion," Tate explains that he approaches the task of commenting about religion in "the spirit of irreligion." Tate laments the loss of the class of "professional men of religion." These men used to be highly respected by laymen and unbelievers alike, and when they spoke, no one questioned whether they had the authority to speak about the "Higher Things." As it was in 1930, so it is today. The man of God is not very well respected and fails to be taken seriously. While Tate declines to offer an explicit reason for this loss of station for the preacher, I suspect that preachers have done it to themselves by substituting education, psychology, and entertainment for the only objective authority on the face of the earth--the Holy Bible. If the final authority is subjective human reason, then the preacher's unsupported opinion is just as valid as the opinion of his most ignorant member of the flock. In a society of equal opinions and beliefs, preachers are just like everyone else, who is not deserving of anymore respect that the next fellow.

I shall be the first to admit that Tate's essay is a bit difficult to unpack. Tate suggests that one cannot "discuss" religion, for at that moment, religion is dishonoured. In other words, systematic theologies weaken religious fervour instead of strengthening it. Nevertheless, the crux of his argument is that religion, both the true and the false, in order to be rightfully called religion, must be viewed as a complete integration of its two parts. The first is that body of beliefs that are shared by all. While the Bible prohibits murder, even heathens would agree that this anti-social behaviour is wrong. Thus the first part contains the axioms, the self-evident dogmas that require no proof, that body of knowledge that is accepted by divine authority. The second part of religion is its practical side, the putting of religion to work, so to speak. Tate points out that true religion combines the two parts; indeed, faith without works is dead.

According to Tate, Americans only have half a religion, or in other words, no religion at all. For most Americans, religion is not a body of doctrines to be adhered to, but something to use in order to get some kind of benefit. This religion of "how-things-work" is incomplete without its other half, the dogma. Since the 1930s, American religion has indeed slipped so far away from doctrine and dogma that for someone to believe in absolute tenets is considered "unloving" and "narrow-minded." Indeed, one religious writer in his book on demonology listed the "demon of doctrine" as an unclean spirit to be exorcised. This same author also said that there is a "demon of poverty," of which I am sure I have a legion. Yet, it appears that the doctrine and the practicality of religion does often conflict. Even the clear commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," becomes difficult for the young soldier who kills an "enemy" for the sole purpose of ensuring American stockholders will get a dividend for the current quarter.

Not only is it detrimental for the soul to view religion only as a practical tool, it is also harmful to consider religion as only a canon of beliefs. This attitude suggests that nothing works, that religion must be imprisoned in the realm of ideals, never to be used in this untoward generation. In other words, the more one thinks about the things that are holy, righteous, and pure, the more futile it seems to put the ideal into practice. Of course, if one's doctrines are the creation of human wisdom, then Tate's point is valid. However, an objective standard will cure this futility, because one's duty to the Bible is but to obey its words, not to try discovering anything. By ignoring this objective standard, Americans who focus predominately on the workability of religion, can only determine what is right by what is successful. Yet, if this is the criterion for right, Americans are practising atheists. Robert Lewis Dabney said, "It is only the atheist who adopts success as the criterion of right." On the other hand, pure religion and undefiled before God will be able to prophesy both success and failure on good authority.

According to Tate, the half-religions suffer from a short memory, since they quickly forget their past failures. There is no body of tradition that constrains the half-religion from being reckless and foolhardy. But as the failures grow more numerous and burdensome, then the weight will eventually crush everyone. Without dogma, the half-religion is immature, unable to sustain itself on the so-called successes alone. Since no body of dogma is developed, a bitter disenchantment comes with the collapse. After its failure to reconcile Biblical truth (dogma) with the Greek philosophies (practicality), the Western church rejected the objective standard in favour of subjective human reason. The result of Americans adopting this irrationality has been the bankruptcy of American civilisation.

Tate offers an interesting discussion about history, where he draws a parallel between the two views of history and the two parts of religion. Tate argues that history can be seen as a series of concrete events or as an abstraction, a generality. The former view Tate calls the "Short View" and the latter the "Long View." The Short View is specific, about specific men who performed specific events. The decisions and acts of these men were dictated by their social mores or with what knowledge they possessed at the time. However, the Long View discounts the specifics and insists that every civilisation follows a certain logical path, one that is at best, shadowy; at worst, non-existent. This view removes all of the distinctions between the past civilisations, and to make a judgement that any one culture was better than another is short of madness. The Long View then is anti-cultural and "the destroyer of Tradition." Or as Tate puts it: "since the Christian myth is a vegetation rite, varying only in some details from countless other vegetation myths, there is no reason to prefer Christ to Adonis." The Short View insists that there is a difference between the historical Jesus and Adonis and that Biblical doctrine demands that the unique Jesus Christ be accepted completely, and not just the half that resembles Adonis.

Tate seems to think that our accepting Jesus over Adonis is a paradox. Again, Tate is arguing from tradition, which is effective only if it is not coerced. Indeed, Tate correctly states that tradition must be spontaneous and automatic in application. As soon as we acknowledge that one tradition is just as good as another, then we have adopted the Long View. More specifically, the moment we concede that the American tradition is as valid as the Confederate tradition, we have lost our specific culture with its concrete ideals by adopting a pragmatic society of abstractions and slogans. The paradox seems to be that the body of doctrine that is believed by faith must be defended by agents that seek its destruction--human reason and science; the one being practical; the other, mystic.

Interestingly, Tate believes that the Southern tradition is lost because the South never developed a unique religious tradition. His point causes some reflection. The antebellum South was agrarian due to the accidents of soil and climate. Yet, her Christianity was cast in the Protestant mould, a religion that did not arise out of an agrarian tradition, but out of a merchant one, and has proven over time to have a bias towards secularism and pragmatism. After all, in the case of the Church of England, how much more pragmatic can anyone get than to start a new church in order to get a divorce? Also, the New England Puritans quickly abandoned the faith of their fathers for filthy lucre. While the Southern statesmen used the Bible to defend slavery, they ignored the Scriptures as a guide for politics and economics. For these human activities, the Southerners relied upon the wisdom of the Renaissance.

Because the South had duplicated somewhat the European feudal society, and because he did convert to Roman Catholicism, I suspect that Tate believed that the Southern religion should have resembled the Catholic model. However, to suggest that the Southern religion must be either Protestant or Catholic, I believe to be a wrong conclusion. Even though the Catholic Church provided the cohesion that kept the feudal society in Europe together, there were hundreds of small, agrarian communities that existed concurrently, yet independent of Rome, and therefore outside of the Protestant tradition as well. These small communities were predominately of the groups that were later called Baptists, including the Mennonites and Anabaptists. To this day, the Amish and Mennonite communities are paragons of co-operative living and farming. Even though thousands of soldiers were converted to the Baptist faith during the War for Southern Independence, it was too late to develop a compatible economic and political defence of Baptist doctrine.

For this reason, Tate states that Southern society began to deteriorate in only two generations after the war, because the social structure centred on economics, and not on religion like the Mennonite communities. According to Tate, "economic conviction is the secular image of religion." In other words, by observing how a fellow uses money will indicate what his core principles and beliefs are. For most Americans, they are consumed with a passion to acquire stuff, and this love for money is enmity with Biblical stewardship. But we must never forget that Confederates underwent a peace that few nations have ever had to endure. While Southern churches were full of humbled people, the Confederates were effectively without a political voice, were not allowed to rebuild their infrastructure, and were reduced to the lowest of all humanity. To add to this humiliation, Northern teachers and "missionaries" flooded the South, preaching the Gospel of progress. The excellent classical schools in the South closed their doors, while common schools changed from education to indoctrination. Indeed, one marvels that there is still a remnant--and a growing one at that--of Confederates left in the South. I maintain that had the Lord not been gracious to the Southern people during the war when He turned their hearts to the Bible, the Southern civilisation would have been completely absorbed by the Long View decades ago.

There is no denying that the gospel of progress with its pragmatism and love of money has made a tremendous breach into the Southern tradition. That tradition is disappearing quickly, particularly when standing in the middle of a shopping mall. It would be impossible to determine whether one was in Macon, Georgia, or Cleveland, Ohio. Therefore, the question naturally arises: "How may the Southerner take hold of his Tradition?" Tate answers, "by violence." And his conclusion has merit.

Arguably, Confederates are still outside of the political process. The American political process is corrupted, beginning with the school boards and ending with the president. Industrialists control both major parties, and for a grassroots candidate to get on a ballot is nearly impossible. However, even if a grassroots candidate were elected, he will be thwarted to affect any meaningful change. While he may have a profound reverence for the Bible, he will not have a practical economics or politics that conform with the Scriptures. Most Confederates still cling to a Jeffersonian rationalism and eighteenth-century liberal philosophy, which is still the core of the farce called "American democracy."

Therefore, Tate argues that the political system must be attacked, not from the inside, but from the outside. Of course, the true Confederate knows that he is not a conservative, but a reactionary, which makes him dangerous to the establishment. In fact, Tate offers this insight: "Reaction is the most radical of programs; it aims at cutting away the overgrowth and getting back to the roots." The trouble is that we, who wish to be left alone, to be allowed to worship our God, and to raise our children apart from the government's "help," must become activists and radicals in order to prevent our Confederate heritage and way of life from not just being neutralised, but being obliterated. Confederates have a bad taste in their mouth for political activism, because the very nature of modern American politics is the butting into other people's business. Unfortunately, Tate ends his essay on a less than helpful note: "The Southerner is faced with the paradox: He must use an instrument, which is political, and so unrealistic and pretentious that he cannot believe in it, to re-establish a private, self-contained, and essentially spiritual life. I say that he must do this; but that remains to be seen." In other words, like the question as to how do we use industrialism without being burned, how do we become political without becoming like the rogues that we want to replace?

Perhaps there is another way to take hold of our Tradition. Here we must take our cue from the Amish and Mennonite communities, who in all of these years in the empire have been left relatively unmolested by the central government. At least their children are not subjected to governmental schools or to fight imperialistic wars. These peaceful people have demonstrated a continuity in religious doctrine that has sustained their economic and social lives. In like manner, Confederates could move to small communities where the rural tradition will harmonise with their Confederate values. There can be pockets of Confederate influence where the sheriff, county commissioners, tax commissioner, school board, and teachers are Confederates. But such an undertaking will require the boldness of a Daniel, the patience of a Job, and the grit of an Elijah. If our religion is based on subjective human reason, we will be no better than any gang of thugs.

Let's remember that faith has two parts: one of substance, and the other of evidence. The only way that we can demonstrate that we love God (the unseen substance of faith) is by the evidence of our loving our neighbours (the evidence of things not seen). While Tate believed that faith and science were at war with each other, in reality, all men walk by faith and not by sight. The only issue is how do we justify our faith; or in other words, what is our final authority? The Confederate must get the spiritual things in order first, and then he needs to justify his religion with a rational economics and politics. No small task, I admit, but as Allen Tate said, "he must do this."