The Spanish Polemic on Colonisation
Part 1: Erasmus, Luther and Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda (5)
Alberto Pio - a contribution from Italy
By “certain frivolous men” Sepúlveda unquestionably has in mind Erasmus. As the source of the theory which he is propounding he mentions Alberto Pio, prince of Carpi, who at that time was compiling yet another dossier to prove that “either Erasmus lutheranises or Luther erasmianises”. (41) Alberto Pio was a central figure in Italian “humanism”. He had been taught by some of the leading Italian scholars and was a friend or patron of many more (and Sepúlveda’s patron also). During his boyhood his uncle, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, had been accused of heresy and driven into exile, which is said to have made a strong impression on his nephew. Pio’s polemic with Erasmus was “a faithful reflection of the differences which separated the humanism of the Nordic countries from that which predominated in Italy” (42). Certainly this is a point which Sepúlveda makes over and over again: the Italians have little admiration for Erasmus, compared to the Germans or indeed the Spanish. One can well imagine that the Italian scholars, seeking trouble-free symbiosis with the institutional Church and faced with the nuisance of events to the north, might have welcomed Pio’s initiative. As a well-known champion of “humanism”, he would not just vouch for their orthodoxy but also help veil the fact that Christianity only had a small place in their thinking. (One sees it in Sepúlveda: he’s a good deal happier writing about Aristotle than about Jesus Christ.)
Striking back at the Italians, Erasmus portrayed them as neo-pagans. He wrote scathingly of “the professors of the pagan sciences at Rome,” (43) whose thinking had no Christian content. “How can you use religious language if you never take your eyes from Virgil, Horace and Ovid?” (44) The Dutchman was insistent that Christianity must be brought into everything: “It behoves every speech of Christians to be centred in Christ... The liberal arts, philosophy and oratory are learned to the end that we may know Christ, that we may celebrate the glory of Christ.” (45)
Granted that Erasmus made these comments with the aim of embarrassing some of his Italian critics, they do highlight a difference between his thinking and theirs. So far as the Italians were concerned, Christianity was whatever the institutional Church said it was. In secular affairs, on the other hand, one could follow Aristotle, who was the almost infallible voice (as Sepúlveda claimed) of the natural law that was common to Christians and pagans alike. Christianity as such didn’t have to be brought into areas such as politics, war, logic, and so on.
Alberto Pio was an ally of the Pope and the French. The victorious Spanish drove him out of his Italian city-state and forced him to take refuge in Paris. There, egged on by doctors of the Sorbonne, he published his challenge to Erasmus. Pio maintained that in powerfully written works like In Praise of Folly Erasmus had attacked the religious orders, the sacraments, the cult of the saints and the Virgin, and so on, all of which opened the way for Luther. When Erasmus quickly replied, rejecting the charges, this only spurred the dying Pio to produce a larger book, “the most severe and comprehensive attack delivered against Erasmus in his lifetime”, (46) which in turn provoked “one of the most savage compositions Erasmus ever wrote” (M. P. Gilmore). Understandably enough, since this pedantic prince was determined to corner him, Erasmus didn’t feel like being gracious in his Defence against the Slanderous Rhapsodies of Alberto Pio. The critic was represented as an old fool who hadn’t even read the works that he condemned, relying instead on “shitty bits of paper brought to him by monks and servants”. (47) He was also a fraud, because he pretended to be the author of books which he personally was incapable of writing. In reality, the research had been done and the style had been polished by scholar-servants whom he kept in his household. Erasmus mentioned one such person by name: Sepúlveda, “a good Latinist”, whom “everybody knows”. (48)
At that point (1531) Pio died. Sepúlveda felt it his duty to uphold the good name of his patron and friend, so he produced an Antapologia (anti-defence). Using the occasion to establish direct contact, he sent Erasmus a copy of the book. In the accompanying letter Sepúlveda says that he wrote it reluctantly, motivated only by the duty of friendship. He says the same in the book itself: he is not writing in order “to prejudice the reputation of Erasmus, a very acute and elegant writer, for whose talent I feel a great liking and whose wisdom in many things I esteem, but rather to oppose the efforts of anyone who would bring disgrace on my loving and generous patron”. (49) I do not believe that. I think he was delighted to have the chance to cross swords with the most famous writer of the age, on ground where he himself had some notable advantages.
About half of the book is concerned with making two points at length. Firstly, Alberto Pio was a considerable scholar, as not only Italy but all Europe knows. Latin learning was the passion of his entire life, and he certainly didn’t need anyone to write his books for him. Secondly, Sepúlveda, the only person whom Erasmus identifies as a ghost-writer, could not possibly have performed that function, because he was living in Rome while Pio was in exile in Paris. Sepúlveda spins out the argument skilfully, keeping firm control of the tone. To Erasmus he is friendly but reproachful, disappointed, just faintly mocking; when he uses terms of denunciation they are aimed at the unknown slanderers who (surely) deceived Erasmus and made him believe things that are the opposite of the truth.
Then finally he turns to a summary discussion of what Pio actually said, and the tone hardens. “What is at issue is not your intention, because we must believe that it was always (as you keep on saying) the best, even if your writings give evidence to the contrary; the question is about the perversity and sarcasm of your language, and also about your prudence.” (50) What is one to make of a sentence like this from In Praise of Folly: “All of the Christian religion seems to have a certain kinship with folly”? Erasmus constantly falls back on the lame excuse that Folly must speak foolishly. “But if somebody, not content with all secular spaces, introduces this insane beast, equipped with such a vocabulary, into churches and sacred buildings, there to launch insolent assaults against priests, monks and the sacred rites, and to proclaim that the Christian religion is akin to itself, in other words full of stupidity and error, must we not regard that person as having committed a crime, or at least an imprudence?” (51)
Sepúlveda follows this up by quoting a series of “imprudences” from other books and discussing their implications. Inevitably, the discussion ends with the question of how all this relates to Martin Luther. “The worst fault that Pio and many others have accused you of is not that you criticise openly and clearly what our forefathers rightly established and handed down, but that you have contributed to spreading certain dangerous scruples, so much so that it seems the Lutheran heresy would never have arisen if the jokes or morose complaints of Erasmus had not preceded it, or supposing it had arisen, it would not have found men’s minds so easily predisposed to accept it and would not have been propagated so widely...
In summary, your critics say that Luther puts into practice whatever Erasmus suggested. Erasmus complains of the excessive number of monasteries; Luther demolishes them all. Erasmus mutters I don’t know what about the cult of the saints; Luther condemns it. The former wants to impose a limit on ceremonies, chants and feast-days; the latter suppresses them completely. Erasmus raises some question or other about the primacy of Peter and the Roman Church; Luther reduces Peter to the ranks, makes all the apostles equal and does not allow the bishop or Church of Rome any greater dignity than the others. If Erasmus points out some aspect of the Church’s decrees that can be changed for the better, Luther denies that the decrees of the Church and Councils have any authority at all...” (52)
You were too anxious to be original in your teachings, Sepúlveda tells him, and too keen on revolutions, which you didn’t think would go so far... If Alberto Pio reproached you for all this, it was not because he hated you, but because he wanted to warn the simple Christians about doubtful and dangerous things in your writings. However, he also did you personally a friendly service. And it would be better to take note of what he said and “attentively revise all your writings with a calm mind, as if they were somebody else’s, caring only for the truth and the common benefit of Christians, the wise and the ignorant alike”. (53) It’s not impossible: Saint Augustine did something of the sort! You’re a man who thinks of posterity, and you wouldn’t like your books to be banned; well, you have influence enough to protect them during your own lifetime, but after your death your critics will achieve their goal. You yourself know what hornets’ nests you’ve disturbed...
After this urgent piece of advice and this prophetic warning, the book ends mildly, with declarations of friendly feeling. “There are no grounds for hatred or hostility between us.” (54) Even if I agree with some of Pio’s criticisms, I still think of you as an outstanding man. But however great you may be, you are also human, and that means you can err...
Pope Clement VII read the book and “praised the moderation I had shown towards Erasmus”. (55) Sepúlveda, writing long afterwards, explained that during Erasmus’s lifetime the strategy of the popes was to keep him within the Catholic Church, because he would be more damaging outside it. And it was as a papal agent that he personally entered into correspondence with Erasmus, soon after the publication of his book. Sepúlveda offered himself as an intermediary between Erasmus and one of the harshest critics of his Greek Testament. That critic’s posthumous manuscripts, instead of being published in a hostile spirit, could now be sent to Erasmus privately, and hopefully they would help him to improve the next edition.
All the indications are that Erasmus detested Sepúlveda and what he had written. But he replied with restraint: there were too many books like that in the world already, and he didn’t intend to add to their number by writing a reply. The Spaniard, expressing his delight at this, repeated his advice that Erasmus should carefully censor his works. Erasmus accepted the offer of manuscripts, and the two had some civil exchanges on questions of translating Greek. Sepúlveda was proud of his correspondence with the great Dutchman, and in later years he couldn’t help boasting of it, even imprudently. (56)
Apart from papal policy, there was another reason why Sepúlveda might have wanted to temper what he said. Some of the leading figures at the court of Charles V were great enthusiasts for Erasmus. Marcel Bataillon’s astonishing book tells the story of how this enthusiasm gripped Spanish culture. But the cult of Erasmus was already on the wane by the mid-1530s, when Clement VII, the Medici pope who had been Sepúlveda’s patron, died. Sepúlveda needed another patron, and he deftly managed the move from pope to emperor. Evidently, as one of the pope’s diplomats and author of the Let’s-fight-the-Turks book, he had made an impression on Charles V. Charles appointed him imperial chronicler and brought him back to Spain. Some years after that, he became the tutor in history and geography of Charles’s son Philip (later Philip II).