Zyuganov is a Christian communist. According to Zyuganov, Jesus Christ was the
first communist, claiming the Bible may be read through a socialist
perspective.[42] Zyuganov also stated that Communism does not need to antagonize
the Christian Orthodox Church.
Zyuganov, numerous times, during his 1996 campaign spoke of his appreciation for
the Russian Orthodox Church, seeking to earn the vote of religious
voters.[4][19] In his first campaign visit to Siberia, Zyuganov proclaimed that
he, "like Josef Stalin", had great respect for the Russian Orthodox Church.[4]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_positions_of_Gennady_Zyuganov .
https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1894/early-christianity/
On
the History of Early Christianity First Published: In Die Neue Zeit, 1894–95.
Translated: by the Institute of Marxism-Leninism, 1957 from the newspaper.
Transcribed: by director@marx.org. Proofread: Alvaro Miranda (August 2020).
Early Christian relief I The history of early Christianity has notable points of
resemblance with the modern working-class movement. Like the latter,
Christianity was originally a movement of oppressed people: it first appeared as
the religion of slaves and emancipated slaves, of poor people deprived of all
rights, of peoples subjugated or dispersed by Rome. Both Christianity and the
workers’ socialism preach forthcoming salvation from bondage and misery;
Christianity places this salvation in a life beyond, after death, in heaven;
socialism places it in this world, in a transformation of society. Both are
persecuted and baited, their adherents are despised and made the objects of
exclusive laws, the former as enemies of the human race, the latter as enemies
of the state, enemies of religion, the family, social order. And in spite of all
persecution, nay, even spurred on by it, they forge victoriously, irresistibly
ahead. Three hundred years after its appearance Christianity was the recognized
state religion in the Roman World Empire, and in barely sixty years socialism
has won itself a position which makes its victory absolutely certain. If,
therefore, Prof. Anton Menger wonders in his Right to the Full Product of Labour
why, with the enormous concentration of landownership under the Roman emperors
and the boundless sufferings of the working class of the time, which was
composed almost exclusively of slaves, “socialism did not follow the overthrow
of the Roman Empire in the West,” it is because he cannot see that this
“socialism” did in fact, as far as it was possible at the time, exist and even
became dominant – in Christianity. Only this Christianity, as was bound to be
the case in the historic conditions, did not want to accomplish the social
transformation in this world, but beyond it, in heaven, in eternal life after
death, in the impending “millennium.” The parallel between the two historic
phenomena forces itself upon our attention as early as the Middle Ages in the
first risings of the oppressed peasants and particularly of the town plebeians.
These risings, like all mass movements of the Middle Ages, were bound to wear
the mask of religion and appeared as the restoration of early Christianity from
spreading degeneration. [1] But behind the religious exaltation there was every
time a very tangible worldly interest. This appeared most splendidly in the
organization of the Bohemian Taborites under Jan Žižka, of glorious memory; but
this trait pervades the whole of the Middle Ages until it gradually fades away
after the German Peasant War to revive again with the workingmen Communists
after 1830. The French revolutionary Communists, as also in particular Weitling
and his supporters, referred to early Christianity long before Renan’s words:
“If I wanted to give you an idea of the early Christian communities I would tell
you to look at a local section of the International Working Men’s Association.”
This French man of letters, who by mutilating German criticism of the Bible in a
manner unprecedented even in modern journalism composed the novel on church
history Origines du Christianisme, did not know himself how much truth there was
in the words just quoted. I should like to see the old “International” who can
read, for example, the so-called Second Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians
without old-wounds re-opening, at least in one respect. The whole epistle, from
chapter eight onwards, echoes the eternal, and oh! so well-known complaint: les
cotisations ne rentrent pas – contributions are not coming in! How many of the
most zealous propagandists of the sixties would sympathizingly squeeze the hand
of the author of that epistle, whoever he may be, and whisper: “So it was like
that with you too!” We too – Corinthians were legion in our Association – can
sing a song about contributions not coming in but tantalizing us as they floated
elusively before our eyes. They were the famous “millions of the International”!
One of our best sources on the first Christians is Lucian of Samosata, the
Voltaire of classic antiquity, who was equally sceptic towards every kind of
religious superstition and therefore bad neither pagan-religious nor political
grounds to treat the Christians otherwise than as some other kind of religious
community. On the contrary, he mocked them all for their superstition, those who
prayed to Jupiter no less than those who prayed to Christ; from his shallow
rationalistic point of view one sort of superstition was as stupid as the other.
This in any case impartial witness relates among other things the life-story of
a certain adventurous Peregrinus, Proteus by name, from Parium in Hellespontus.
When a youth, this Peregrinus made his début in Armenia by committing
fornication. He was caught in the act and lynched according to the custom of the
country. He was fortunate enough to escape and after strangling his father in
Parium he had to flee. “And so it happened” – I quote from Schott’s translation
– “that he also came to hear of the astonishing learning of the Christians, with
whose priests and scribes he had cultivated intercourse in Palestine. He made
such progress in a short time that his teachers were like children compared with
him. He became a prophet, an elder, a master of the synagogue, in a word, all in
everything. He interpreted their writings and himself wrote a great number of
works, so that finally people saw in him a superior being, let him lay down laws
for them and made him their overseer (bishop) .... On that ground (i.e., because
he was a Christian) Proteus was at length arrested by the authorities and thrown
into prison ... As he thus lay in chains, the Christians, who saw in his capture
a great misfortune, made all possible attempts to free him. But they did not
succeed. Then they administered to him in all possible ways with the greatest
solicitude. As early as daybreak one could see aged mothers, widows and young
orphans crowding at the door of his prison; the most prominent among the
Christians even bribed the warders and spent whole nights with him; they took
their meals with them and read their holy books in his presence; briefly, the
beloved Peregrinus” (he still went by that name) “was no less to them than a new
Socrates. Envoys of Christian communities came to him even from towns in Asia
Minor to lend him a helping hand, to console him and to testify in his favour in
court. It is unbelievable how quick these people are to act whenever it is a
question of their community; they immediately spare neither exertion nor
expense. And thus from all sides money then poured in to Peregrinus so that his
imprisonment became for him a source of great income. For the poor people
persuaded themselves that they were immortal in body and in soul and that they
would live for all eternity; that was why they scorned death and many of them
even voluntarily written by his sacrificed their lives. Then their most
prominent lawgiver convinced them that they would all be brothers one to another
once they were converted, i.e., renounced the Greek gods, professed faith in the
crucified sophist and lived according to his prescriptions. That is why they
despise all material goods without distinction and own them in common –
doctrines which they have accepted in good faith, without demonstration or
proof. And when a skilful imposter who knows how to make clever use of
circumstances comes to them he can manage to get rich in a short time and laugh
up his sleeve over these simpletons. For the rest, Peregrinus was set free by
him who was then prefect of Syria.” Then, after a few more adventures, “Our
worthy set forth a second time” (from Parium) “on his peregrinations, the
Christians’ good disposition standing him in lieu of money for his journey: they
administered to his needs everywhere and never let him suffer want. He was fed
for a time in this way. But then, when he violated the laws of the Christians
too – I think he was caught eating of some forbidden food – they excommunicated
him from their community.” What memories of youth come to my mind as I read this
passage from Lucian! First of all the “prophet Albrecht” who from about 1840
literally plundered the Weitling communist communities in Switzerland for
several years – a tall powerful man with a long beard who wandered on foot
through Switzerland and gathered audiences for his mysterious new Gospel of
world emancipation, but who, after all, seems to have been a tolerably harmless
hoaxer and soon died. Then his not so harmless successor, “Doctor” Georg
Kuhlmann from Holstein, who put to profit the time when Weitling was in prison
to convert the communities of French Switzerland to his own Gospel, and for a
time with such success that he even caught August Becker, by far the cleverest
but also the biggest ne’er-do-well among them. This Kuhlmann used to deliver
lectures to them which were published in Geneva in 1845 under the title The New
World, or the Kingdom of the Spirit on Earth. Proclamation. In the introduction,
supporters (probably August Becker) we read: “What was needed was a man on whose
lips all our sufferings and all our longings and hopes, in a word, all that
affects our time most profoundly should find expression ... This man, whom our
time was waiting for, has come. He is the doctor Georg Kuhlmann from Holstein He
has come forward with the doctrine of the new world or the kingdom of the spirit
in reality.” I hardly need to add that this doctrine of the new world is nothing
more than the most vulgar sentimental nonsense rendered in half-biblical
expressions à la Lamennais and declaimed with prophet-like arrogance. But this
did not prevent the good Weitlingers from carrying the swindler shoulder-high as
the Asian Christians once did Peregrinus. They who were otherwise arch-democrats
and extreme equalitarians to the extent of fostering ineradicable suspicion
against any schoolmaster, journalist, and any man generally who was not a manual
worker as being an “erudite” who was out to exploit them, let themselves be
persuaded by the melodramatically arrayed Kuhlman that in the “New World” it
would be the wisest of all, id est, Kuhlmann, who would regulate the
distribution of pleasures and that therefore, even then, in the Old World, the
disciples ought to bring pleasures by the bushel to that same wisest of all
while they themselves should be content with crumbs. So Peregrinus Kuhlmann
lived a splendid life of pleasure at the expense of the community – as long as
it lasted. It did not last very long, of course; the growing murmurs of doubters
and unbelievers and the menace of persecution by the Vaudois Government put an
end to the “Kingdom of the Spirit” in Lausanne – Kuhlmann disappeared. Everybody
who has known by experience the European working-class movement in its
beginnings will remember dozens of similar examples. Today such extreme cases,
at least in the large centres, have become impossible; but in remote districts
where the movement has won new ground a small Peregrinus of this kind can still
count on a temporary limited success. And just as all those who have nothing to
look forward to from the official world or have come to the end of their tether
with it – opponents of inoculation, supporters of abstemiousness, vegetarians,
anti-vivisectionists, nature-healers, free-community preachers whose communities
have fallen to pieces, authors of new theories on the origin of the universe,
unsuccessful or unfortunate inventors, victims of real or imaginary injustice
who are termed “good-for-nothing pettifoggers” by all bureaucracy, honest fools
and dishonest swindlers – all throng to the working-class parties in all
countries – so it was with the first Christians. All the elements which had been
set free, i.e., at a loose end, by the dissolution of the old world came one
after the other into the orbit Christianity as the only element that resisted
that process of dissolution – for the very reason that it was the necessary
product of that process – and that therefore persisted and grew while the other
elements were but ephemeral flies. There was no fanaticism, no foolishness, no
scheming that did not flock to the young Christian communities and did not at
least for a time and in isolated places find attentive ears and willing
believers. And like our first communist workers’ associations the early
Christians too took with such unprecedented gullibility to anything which suited
their purpose that we are not even sure that some fragment or other of the
“great number of works” that Peregrinus wrote for Christianity did not find its
way into our New Testament. II German criticism of the Bible, so far the only
scientific basis of our knowledge of the history of early Christianity, followed
a double tendency. The first tendency was that of the Tübingen school, in which,
in the broad sense, D.F. Strauss must also be included. In critical inquiry it
goes as far as a theological school can go. It admits that the four Gospels are
not eyewitness accounts but only later adaptations of writings that have been
lost; that no more than four of the Epistles attributed to the apostle Paul are
authentic, etc. It strikes out of the historical narrations all miracles and
contradictions, considering them as unacceptable; but from the rest it tries “to
save what can be saved” and then its nature, that of a theological school, is
very evident. Thus it enabled Renan, who bases himself mostly on it, to “save”
still more by applying the same method and, moreover, to try to impose upon us
as historically authenticated many New Testament accounts that are more than
doubtful and, besides, a multitude of other legends about martyrs. In any case,
all that the Tübingen school rejects as unhistorical or apocryphal can be
considered as finally eliminated for science. The other tendency has but one
representative – Bruno Bauer. His greatest service consists not merely in having
given a pitiless criticism of the Gospels and the Epistles of the apostles, but
in having for the first time seriously undertaken an inquiry into not only the
Jewish and Greco-Alexandrian elements but the purely Greek and Greco-Roman
elements that first opened for Christianity the career of a universal religion.
The legend that Christianity arose ready and complete out of Judaism and,
starting from Palestine, conquered the world with its dogma already defined in
the main and its morals, has been untenable since Bruno Bauer; it can continue
to vegetate only in the theological faculties and with people who wish “to keep
religion alive for the people” even at the expense of science. The enormous
influence which the Philonic school of Alexandria and Greco-Roman vulgar
philosophy – Platonic and mainly Stoic – had on Christianity, which became the
state religion under Constantine, is far from having been defined in detail, but
its existence has been proved and that is primarily the achievement of Bruno
Bauer: he laid the foundation of the proof that Christianity was not imported
from outside – from Judea – into the Romano-Greek world and imposed on it, but
that, at least in its world-religion form, it is that world’s own product.
Bauer, of course, like all those who are fighting against deep-rooted
prejudices, overreached his aim in this work. In order to define through
literary sources, too, Philo’s and particularly Seneca’s influence on emerging
Christianity and to show up the authors of the New Testament formally as
downright plagiarists of those philosophers he had to place the appearance of
the new religion about half a century later, to reject the opposing accounts of
Roman historians and take extensive liberties with historiography in general.
According to him Christianity as such appears only under the Flavians, the
literature of the New Testament only under Hadrian, Antoninus and Marcus
Aurelius. As a result the New Testament accounts of Jesus and his disciples are
deprived for Bauer of any historical background: they are diluted in legends in
which the phases of interior development and the moral struggles of the first
communities are transferred to more or less fictitious persons. Not Galilee and
Jerusalem, but Alexandria and Rome, according to Bauer, are the birthplaces of
the new religion. If, therefore, the Tübingen school presents to us in the
remains of the New Testament stories and literature that it left untouched the
extreme maximum of what science today can still accept as disputable, Bruno
Bauer presents to us maximum of what can be contested. The factual truth lies
between these two limits. Whether that truth can be defined with the means at
our disposal today is very doubtful. New discoveries, particularly in Rome, in
the Orient, and above all in Egypt, will contribute more to this than any
criticism. But we have in the New Testament a single book the time of the
writing of which can be defined within a few months, which must have been
written between June 67 and January or April 68; a book, consequently, which
belongs to the very beginning of the Christian era and reflects with the most
naive fidelity and in the corresponding idiomatic language the ideas of the
beginning of that era. This book, therefore, in my opinion, is a far more
important source from which to define what early Christianity really was than
all the rest of the New Testament, which, in its present form, is of a far later
date. This book is the so-called Revelation of John. And as this, apparently the
most obscure book in the whole Bible, is moreover today, thanks to German
criticism, the most comprehensible and the clearest, I shall give my readers an
account of it. One needs but to look into this book in order to be convinced of
the state of great exaltation not only of the author, but also of the
“surrounding medium” in which he moved. Our “Revelation” is not the only one of
its kind and time. From the year 164 before our era, when the first which has
reached us, the so-called Book of Daniel, was written, up to about 250 of our
era, the approximate date of Commodian’s Carmen, Renan counted no fewer than
fifteen extant classical “Apocalypses,” not counting subsequent imitations. (I
quote Renan because his book is also the best known by non-specialists and the
most accessible.) That was a time when even in Rome and Greece and still more in
Asia Minor, Syria and Egypt an absolutely uncritical mixture of the crassest
superstitions of the most varying peoples was indiscriminately accepted and
complemented by pious deception and downright charlatanism; a time in which
miracles, ecstasies, visions, apparitions, divining, gold-making, cabbala and
other secret magic played a primary role. It was in that atmosphere, and,
moreover, among a class of people who were more inclined than any other to
listen to these supernatural fantasies, that Christianity arose. For did not the
Christian gnostics in Egypt during the second century of our era engage
extensively in alchemy and introduce alchemistic notions into their teachings,
as the Leyden papyrus documents, among others, prove. And the Chaldean and
Judean mathematici, who, according to Tacitus, were twice expelled from Rome for
magic, once under Claudius and again under Vitellius, practised no other kind of
geometry than the kind we shall find at the basis of John’s Revelation. To this
we must add another thing. All the apocalypses attribute to themselves the right
to deceive their readers. Not only were they written as a rule by quite
different people than their alleged authors, and mostly by people who lived much
later, for example the Book of Daniel, the Book of Henoch, the Apocalypses of
Ezra, Baruch, Juda, etc., and the Sibylline books, but, as far as their main
content is concerned, they prophesy only things that had already happened long
before and were quite well known to the real author. Thus in the year 164,
shortly before the death of Antiochus Epiphanes, the author of the Book of
Daniel makes Daniel, who is supposed to have lived in the time of
Nebuchadnezzar, prophesy the rise and fall of the Persian and Macedonian empires
and the beginning of the Roman Empire, in order by this proof of his gift of
prophecy to prepare the reader to accept the final prophecy that the people of
Israel will overcome all hardships and finally be victorious. If therefore
John’s Revelation were really the work of its alleged author it would be the
only exception among all apocalyptic literature. The John who claims to be the
author was, in any case, a man of great distinction among the Christians of Asia
Minor. This is borne out by the tone of the message to the seven churches.
Possibly he was the apostle John, whose historical existence, however, is not
completely authenticated but is very probable. If this apostle was really the
author, so much the better for our point of view. That would be the best
confirmation that the Christianity of this book is real genuine early
Christianity. Let it be noted in passing that, apparently, the Revelation was
not written by the same author as the Gospel or the three Epistles which are
also attributed to John. The Revelation consists of a series of visions. In the
first Christ appears in the garb of a high priest, goes in the midst of seven
candlesticks representing the seven churches of Asia and dictates to “John”
messages to the seven “angels” of those churches. Here at the very beginning we
see plainly the difference between this Christianity and Constantine’s universal
religion formulated by the Council of Nicaea. The Trinity is not only unknown,
it is even impossible. Instead of the one Holy Ghost of later we here have the
“seven spirits of God” construed by the Rabbis from Isaiah XI, 2. Christ is the
son of God, the first and the last, the alpha and the omega, by no means God
himself or equal to God, but on the contrary, “the beginning of the creation of
God,” hence an emanation of God, existing from all eternity but subordinate to
God, like the above-mentioned seven spirits. In Chapter XV, 3 the martyrs in
heaven sing “the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb”
glorifying God. Hence Christ here appears not only as subordinate to God but
even, in a certain respect, on an equal footing with Moses. Christ is crucified
in Jerusalem (XI, 8) but rises again (I, 5, 18); he is “the Lamb” that has been
sacrificed for the sins of the world and with whose blood the faithful of all
tongues and nations have been redeemed to God. Here we find the basic idea which
enabled early Christianity to develop into a universal religion. All Semitic and
European religions of that time shared the view that the gods offended by the
actions of man could be propitiated by sacrifice; the first revolutionary basic
idea (borrowed from the Philonic school) in Christianity was that by the one
great voluntary sacrifice of a mediator the sins of all times and all men were
atoned for once for all – in respect of the faithful. Thus the necessity of any
further sacrifices was removed and with it the basis for a multitude of
religious rites: but freedom from rites that made difficult or forbade
intercourse with people of other confessions was the first condition of a
universal religion. In spite of this the habit of sacrifice was so deeply rooted
in the customs of peoples that Catholicism – which borrowed so much from
paganism – found it appropriate to accommodate itself to this fact by the
introduction of at least the symbolical sacrifice of the mass. On the other hand
there is no trace whatever of the dogma of original sin in our book. But the
most characteristic in these messages, as in the whole book, is that it never
and nowhere occurs to the author to refer to himself and his co-believers by any
other name than that of Jews. He reproaches the members of the sects in Smyrna
and Philadelphia against whom he fulminates with the fact that they “say they
are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan”; of those in Pergamos he
says: they hold the doctrine of Balaam, who taught Balac to cast a
stumbling-block before the children of Israel, to eat things sacrificed unto
idols, and to commit fornication. Here it is therefore not a case of conscious
Christians but of people who say they are Jews. Granted, their Judaism is a new
stage of development of the earlier but for that very reason it is the only true
one. Hence, when the saints appeared before the throne of God there came first
144,000 Jews, 12,000 from each tribe, and only after them the countless masses
of heathens converted to this renovated Judaism. That was how little our author
was aware in the year 69 of the Christian era that he represented quite a new
phase in the development of a religion which was to become one of the most
revolutionary elements in the history of the human mind. We therefore see that
the Christianity of that time, which was still unaware of itself, was as
different as heaven from earth from the later dogmatically fixed universal
religion of the Nicene Council; one cannot be recognized in the other. Here we
have neither the dogma nor the morals of later Christianity but instead a
feeling that one is struggling against the whole world and that the struggle
will be a victorious one; an eagerness for the struggle and a certainty of
victory which are totally lacking in Christians of today and which are to be
found in our time only at the other pole of society, among the Socialists. In
fact, the struggle against a world that at the beginning was superior in force,
and at the same time against the novators themselves, is common to the early
Christians and the Socialists. Neither of these two great movements were made by
leaders or prophets – although there are prophets enough among both of them –
they are mass movements. And mass movements are bound to be confused at the
beginning; confused because the thinking of the masses at first moves among
contradictions, lack of clarity and lack of cohesion, and also because of the
role that prophets still play in them at the beginning. This confusion is to be
seen in the formation of numerous sects which fight against one another with at
least the same zeal as against the common external enemy. So it was with early
Christianity, so it was in the beginning of the socialist movement, no matter
how much that worried the well-meaning worthies who preached unity where no
unity was possible.
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