In Defence of Atheism
Michel Onfray, In Defence of Atheism, Serpent’s Tail, 2007
It is said that attack is the best form of defence. French philosopher Michel Onfray takes this advice to heart in the first of his numerous works to receive an English translation. Though the name would suggest otherwise In Defence of Atheism is an attack — albeit a reasoned, well-argued one — on the three major monotheisms, what he refers to as ‘religions of the book’: Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Rather than defending the advantages of Atheism, Onfray casts a critical eye upon the formation, development and reactions to these three religions, which still dominate late modernity.
Though God, be it Yahweh, Al-lah or Jesus’ old man, could be considered the manager of such religions, Onfray’s essay is not a witch-hunt for a mystic deity, rather he goes in search of those who have taken the concept of a ‘creator’ and used it to their own ends and looks to dismiss them, with great gusto. Indeed, at times Onfray sounds like radical candidate in a southern American state’s election for governor. Yet in turns he resembles a cheeky schoolboy giggling at a rude word. It is this alternating, almost contradictory narration that affords Onfray’s discourse a readability that is often neglected in works of philosophy.
Onfray asks the question ‘Is he dead or isn’t he?’ We have little proof, and as Onfray suggests, surely the death of God would have had some tangible effect upon his kingdom. There are no witnesses (yes, we have Nietzsche, though if he did see it, it was enough to drive him insane). Onfray renders God’s death irrelevant; he instead questions His existence at all. He offers God as a concept, an ontological figurehead. The reader is left with the impression of God merely as a veil, hung to obscure reason by the various authorities that guard the concept of a divinity to administer control over the masses, to support their own doctrines. Onfray asks us to use Atheism to “carry us past discourse on God and flow up-stream to the source.” That source, for Onfray, is reason; it is philosophy. Onfray cleverly suggests the “last God dies with [the] last man.” In this he affirms the idea that God is a human construct, to be interpreted as required.
It is Onfray’s belief in reason that permeates throughout his work. Rather than the Son of God, Jesus should merely be taken as any other philosopher. The same treatment for Moses, the same for Mohammed. It is my own belief that religion is merely a well-market philosophy. Dismissing God as omnipotent, omnipresent, omni-anything; disregarding any mystic mumbo-jumbo, instead relying upon reason, practicing an Epicurean life, a thoughtful life, it soon becomes possible to view things ‘as they are’. Of course, applying the Socratic method to arguments, it is possible to reason yourself into depression, loneliness (as Schopenhauer), insanity (as Nietzsche) or even death (as Seneca) and can seem somewhat negative. It is often easier to rely on mysticism (even Epicurus’ reason was felled by the rudder of lady Fortune) but to do so conceals responsibility, responsibility for ones own actions, ones thoughts, ones own life. It is this negation of life, the monotheisms’ obsession with death that Onfray rallies against. He outlines how all three monotheisms invent the afterlife as a means to subdue the life of now:
“Hence the schizophrenia of monotheisms. They judge the here and now by the standards of an elsewhere; they conceive of the earthly city only in terms of the heavenly city.”
Onfray further suggests:
“By aiming for paradise, we lose sight of earth. Hope of a beyond and aspiration to an afterlife engender a sense of futility in the present.”
And warns:
“If the prospect of getting taken up to paradise generates joy, it is the mindless joy of a baby picked up from his crib.”
The death fixation seems an obsession of Onfray, it is a sticking point, and forms one of the main criticisms he has with the three main religions. As Nietzsche calls them, these ‘preachers of death’ are rank throughout the history of religion. Supporting Nietzsche’s warning in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Onfray shows these ‘preachers of death’ span across east and west, they are not confined to the Islam of the east; they are just as present in the Judeo-Christianity of the west. In fact Onfray directs much of his anger to Paul of Tarsus, a man he declares a ‘weakling hysteric’, the man who founded much of the Christian doctrine still followed today. Onfray goes as far to argue that Paul of Tarsus developed Christianity as a means of revenge, a religion of submission, in praise of the meek, to palliate his own (largely sexual) insecurities.
In the chapters entitled ‘Monotheistic Grab Bag’ and ‘Cherry-picking the Scriptures’ Onfray cunningly plays a game of reason with those mantras so fundamental to the religions. His deconstruction of the commandment ‘Thou shall not kill’ is particularly lucid and convincing. It is obvious the commandment is broken daily, we merely need turn on the news at dinner, but rather than a conspicuous attack on the ridiculousness of religions that contradict the words of their own God, he offers an alternative interpretation of the commandment. He suggests it can be reasoned that when God speaks ‘thou shall not kill’ he is speaking to his chosen people and therefore, those outside belief are open to attack. To kill a fellow Jew, no no no, but to kill a non-believer, someone who lives their life outside of religion, hey go ahead, and God supports you to boot. This alternative interpretation supports the idea of the ‘othering’ generated and supported by monotheistic religions, the concept of ‘them’ and ‘us’: the starting point for every war since year dot!
Onfray takes on many of the contradictions deep within the books and teachings of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Citing Bible, Torah and Koran, parable after parable, sura after sura, he attempts a reasoned dismissal, an evidenced expose that could only ever be truly rewarded by its entry into the Index Librorum Prohibitorum. To attempt a reasoned criticism of Christianity is a thankless task, to attempt one of Christianity and Judaism is pushing it, to throw Islam into the mix seems to be blatantly asking for trouble. With chapter titles such as ‘The Vatican admired Adolf Hitler’, ‘The Jewish invention of Holy War’, ‘Jesus at Hiroshima’, and the sure to be well received ‘Muslim thirst for blood’; Onfray apparently has a death wish. Though undeniably provocative, the work is equally reasonable, and does enough to avoid any charges of unfounded sensationalism. Still, it is easy to see the work causing upset among the monotheisms it targets. Perhaps Onfray collects fatwas? Perhaps though, and hopefully, he has no mind for publicity, cares not if Pope Benedict XVI never invites him to Vatican City, and doesn’t mind being hunted night and day by Islamic fundamentalists. Perhaps, in light of his selflessness in approaching such a taboo with reason, thoroughly evidenced argument and a smidgen of well-placed humour, we ought to return the favour and give him what he wants: a moment or two to consider, using our own mind and employing our capacity for reason, religion, why we chose to follow one, or why we chose to abstain. Whether you believe in the Christian God, Yahweh, Al-lah, Buddha, the Sun, the Moon or yourself, you perhaps owe it to that God (conceptual or tangible) to understand why, and more importantly to consider the possibility of your beliefs being negatively employed to harm others.
ABOUT THE REVIEWER
Glenn Fisher was born in Grimsby, in a county that no longer exists, in 1981. After working in local government since leaving college in 1997, he took very early retirement in 2004. He is 3:AM’s Film Editor and has just finished the Professional Writing degree course at the Grimsby Institute.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Saturday, June 9th, 2007.
