I recently finished The Forged God, by Thomas Ruster, a book that was originally published in German in 2001 (Herder). There is no English version yet, but in 2011, Ediciones Sígueme offered us its Spanish translation, which comes with the provocative subtitle: A new theology from the rupture between Christianity and religion.[1] Although it has been more than fifteen years since its appearance, it seems to me that the work is as relevant as ever to the state of our world today.
The study of Professor Ruster, sometimes dense, has many merits. Here I would just like to echo one of his arguments, one that undoubtedly has implications for everyday life: I mean Ruster’s description of capitalism as a religion—and as a religion which, in essence, stands in opposition to biblical doctrine.
Indeed, beyond the designation of capitalism as a religion, what has most captivated me is his dissection of the mentality that underlies capitalism.[2] This, he points out, is born out of concern for an uncertain future. The yearning for accumulating wealth for tomorrow is based on the conviction that available goods are limited (that is what Ruster calls the doctrine of scarcity) and that therefore the natural duty of any sensible person is to secure today, as best one can, the always uncertain sustenance for the future. Nothing can perform this function as well as money, and no mechanism better ensures the existence of future income as does interest. In the words of John Maynard Keynes, whom Ruster quotes, “the importance of money comes primarily from the fact that it represents a link between the present and the future.”[3] And Ruster continues: “The preference for liquidity has psychological reasons, and is born of concern for the future itself.”[4] In other words, money is at the service of foresight, and capitalism “is religious in the sense that it attempts to ensure the future, through money.”[5] The typical capitalist mentality, in short, would be born of a strong awareness of scarcity; its result would be the exercise of foresight through the accumulation of goods that today we do not need, but that we may need later.
This mentality clashes head-on with biblical doctrine. The instruction of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount could not be clearer: “Do not pile up treasures on earth” (Mt 6:19). “Do not worry about your life thinking about what you are going to eat or drink” (Mt 6:25). “These are the things for which the gentiles are concerned” (Mt 6:32). And what is fundamental: believers should ask only for their “daily bread” (Mt 6:11). Already in the Old Testament the people of Israel learned the lesson of the manna: what is collected for more than a day rots (Ex 16).
It is not that biblical faith praises irresponsibility; the Bible is not a call to live without care, but it is an invitation to live trusting in God, not money. And there is something deeper at stake, at which we wanted to arrive with this brief reflection: to understand that, as Keynes himself observed, there is a connection between supposedly responsible, future-oriented behavior (born of the capitalist faith in scarcity) and injustice. A direct connection: behavior that we have come to think of as responsible and prudent is often the cause of injustice. In this sense, the renunciation of foresight, far from being irresponsible, is born, as Ruster affirms, “from faith in the fullness of the divine blessing, and is at the service of the kingdom of God and its justice.”[6] The well-known Biblical prohibition against the collection of interest (Ex 22:24; Lev 25:35-37; Deut 23:20-21) should be understood as a warning in favor of social justice: no future enrichment should be sought at the price of the indigence of the poor in the present. For in short, “there is enough for everyone if there are not some who secure their future at the expense of others.”[7]
It is difficult to read Ruster’s work, and to then observe the societies in which we live and not to see the formidable relevance of his argument, because inequality between nations and within nations is today one of the most pressing problems of humanity. This is, for instance, Jared Diamond’s conclusion at the end of his recent little book Comparing Human Societies,[8] and in fact it can be seen by anyone who opens a newspaper or goes out to the street. The appalling data are, unfortunately, well known: 62 people have the same wealth as the poorest half of humanity (3.7 billion people). The richest 1% of the planet already has as much as the other 99%. You look at the reality of any Latin American city (or, for that matter, European or North American or anywhere in the world) and the abysmal inequalities are obvious. Differences in housing, salaries, education or health services among its more affluent inhabitants and the poorest—who are the majority—are scandalous.
How can we not see that such inequality makes peaceful coexistence impossible? How can we not realize, whatever religious faith moves us—or if we do not have any—that there is in this inequality a profound immorality? How did we get here?
How? By following the capitalist creed, the pernicious doctrine of scarcity. And by contravening the biblical doctrine which invites us to ask only for our daily bread. The issues raised here are complex, and we would not want to simplify them. However, it is quite evident that greater historical fidelity to the biblical doctrine of the abundance of God and the invitation to seek only our daily bread would have prevented us from reaching the tragic and dangerous situation of inequality in which we find ourselves today. It would seem that Keynes was right when he demanded an active state policy that would limit the personal greed of the individual. Such a policy would be in full harmony with the Gospel of Jesus.
[1] T. Ruster, El dios falsificado (Ediciones Sígueme, Salamanca, 2011).
[2] To offer this “dissection”, the German theologian quotes authors as Walter Benjamin and, even more, John Maynard Keynes.
[3] T. Ruster, op. cit., 168.
[4] Ibid., 169.
[5] Ibid., 174
[6] Ibid., 176
[7] Ibid., 177
[8] J. Diamond, Sociedades Comparadas (P. Random House, Barcelona, 2016).
