Catholic mystics alike, as literally as he meant them.
Paul, though denouncing money-greed as the root of all evil, found himself accused of this very sin by Christian contemporaries. In the Epistle to the Corinthians, he justifies his use of an expense account while conveying to the Saints at Jerusalem certain alms collected for them by Asian Churches. He writes: 'I have a right to make a respectable public appearance.' These Asian Churches were not communistic; but the Jerusalem Saints still pooled their resources and spent all their time in prayer and preaching, despite the Pharisees' view that even Doctors of the Law should toil at a trade: 'Six days shalt thou labour!' They needed Paul's money not only to cover their own professional expenses, but to maintain their 'widows'?namely, the wives whom they had dis?carded on 'making themselves eunuchs for God's sake'.
Paradoxically, our international banking system was fostered by the Deuteronomic Law against interest, and by the Deuteronomic gloss on Exodus xxii. 25: 'Thou shalt not treat the debtor as if thou wert an usurer!'?that is, as a money-lender who demands interest. For the Jews of the Dispersal seldom broke their religious ties with Jerusalem where, when rich enough, they would annually attend the High Festivals; and, being literate members of the Synagogue, corresponded among them?selves in Aramaic about business matters. Simon ben Mathias of Cyrene, say, could trust his cousin Eliezer ben Johanan of Syracuse, a God-fearing Jew, to honour his bills for any amount on an agreement reached, years before, and to ask no interest. ... So Simon would send Eliezer a cargo of Cyrenian goods, by way of pledge for an agreed loan; and Eliezer would send Simon his Syracusan goods on the same understanding. Each made a profit on the other's pledge, but no money passed be?tween them until accounts were settled at Jerusalem. Soon, Gentiles took advantage of this Jewish agreement, and sent goods for sale to Syracuse or Cyrene; but would, of course, pay interest on the loan at each end?Jews not being forbidden to charge a Gentile interest.
Seventeenth-century Sephardic Jews, escaping from the Inquisition to Cromwellian England, founded 'the City'. Christian bankers, in fact, could not trust one another as co-religionists to the degree that Jew could trust Jew; and, although Protestants might sing David's psalm in praise of the upright man who has refrained not only from taking bribes and bearing false witness against the guiltless, but from lending money on interest, even Christian Churches committed this sin. (The case has been obscured by use of the word 'usury', which Church?men casuistically define as extortionate interest: a sense missing from the Hebrew text.)
Greeks and Romans worshipped a god of Money, Hermes?also patron of Thieves and Diplomats?whom Homer celebrated for cheating the god Apollo, while still an infant, much to Father Zeus's amusement. The Christian Church frowned on this recognition of an in?born human frailty, which the Law might perhaps re?strain but could never eradicate. Yet a growing Christian disbelief in Heaven, Hell, and dogmatic theology, soon restored to Hermes,vhom I prefer to call 'Mammon', his lost glory.
He is now the only god who still gives active proof of his omnipresence: changing shape continually; scattering rewards or punishments in this world rather than the problematic next; permitting his devotees to dance with the whole corps de ballet of Deadly Sins; encouraging a politic disguise of his worship under the mantle of Christianity; and wielding universal power?this side of the grave, at least. Jesus ironically told his hearers to make friends with the Mammon of Unrighteousness, who could offer them everlasting mansions in Heaven. . . . Yet a genuine priest of Mammon has my respect. He will be far less interested in enjoying the power that wealth gives him, than in observing its influence on trade, in?dustry, science, art, literature, politics, entertainment, sex, religion, scholarship. . . . He will piously harden his heart while serving his god, and acquire an uncanny knowledge of this dirty world: despising all who fail to share his faith that 'there is nothing money cannot buy'; and will laugh at love as heartily as love laughs at lock?smiths.
Yet his is a hard life: to disregard even minimal sums, or be awed by stupendously large ones, would be a lapse from grace. Perfect dedication to Mammon casts out all affection: the rich man bestows no costly gift on friends who once shared his poverty. And though he may main?tain his parents or poor relations for fear their shabbiness may weaken his credit, or pay a prestige price for a blonde model's company, these are not weak surrenders to sentiment. Whatever luxuries he buys himself, such as works of art, country houses, or a yacht (even if he hates the sea), will be excused either as investments with untaxable capital appreciation, or as necessary proofs to his associates that he is not slipping. He cannot avoid the required year-long progress from luxury hotel to luxury hotel: must shoot grouse in Scotland; ski at Gstaad; bet at Ascot; visit his tailor in Savile Row; take his wife to the Paris Collections; attend the feria at Seville and the premiere of every Broadway musical? none of which events mean much to him?and spend three or four days each month in jet planes. . . . He does not, as the Banias of India, a money-lending caste, are said to do: perform his puja on set days before a great heap of gold coin. ... Or does he, secretly, when he visits his private vault? Who knows?
Though aware that he can take nothing with him when death comes, he grudges large bequests to his heirs and delights meanwhile in keeping them short of cash lest they rival him in riches. Often he leaves the bulk of his property to some foundation, so that his name may endure as a successful benefactor. He judges his tips neatly, to avoid charges either of extravagance or mean?ness, and is seldom seen in the company of lesser finan?ciers or common people. He may at times contribute to public charities as a means of avoiding tax; but his dona?tion must head the list. The poor envy him; and all his companies expand and proliferate. . . .
Last year a Majorcan journalist interviewed a rich Lapp visitor to our island, and asked how many reindeer he owned. The Lapp answered, through two interpreters: 'That is a very improper question in my country: suppose I were to inquire into your bank account?'
A shrewd point. Ask an English workman: 'What's your weekly pay packet?', and the answer will seldom be grudged, since he is paid at Union rates, and his mates know it. But ask the same man: 'What money have you put by?', and he'll say: 'What business is it of yours?' Meaning: 'Don't try touching me for a fiver!' A true financier would not tell even his dying mother how much he was worth; the nurse might overhear. . . . The other day, when I put tvhj>s^question experimentally to a young man of independent means, he answered: 'Ask me any?thing else you please: my politics, my religion, my sexual preferences and technique. . . . But that's something I can't reveal!'
Now, he knew well enough that I wasn't going to touch him for a fiver; or advise him to give all he had to the poor; or inform on him to the Inland Revenue. . . . Only the sacredness of Mammon sealed his lips.
God's curse of mankind, 'In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread!', was taken literally by the Jews, who have never since stopped toiling with their hands or brains; and also by devout Protestants. I am conditioned that way myself, and cannot take a vacation without feelings of guilt?even at an age which would qualify me for an old-age pension, had I licked the right number of National Insurance stamps; which I haven't. Catholics, living in Catholic countries at a further remove from the Jewish ethic, find far less compulsion to work; nor, in?deed, do they conscientiously feel obliged to make honest tax returns, despite Jesus' 'Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's!'
I asked the Israeli Income Tax chief a year or two ago: how honest were the national returns? He answered: 'Well, we still have immigrants who fail to distinguish their own government from that of the countries where they were an oppressed and unrepresented minority. So, although our returns are not yet as honest as your Protes?tant ones, they are far more honest than in Catholic, or Greek Orthodox, or Moslem countries.'
A Sanhedrin ruling permitted the Jews to deceive Roman-appointed tax-gatherers, who ranked with prosti?tutes as unfit to give sworn evidence in court. My own vi
ew of the 'Render unto Caesar' text is that Jesus must have said: 1 Render not unto God that which is Caesar's!', a reference to the blasphemous inscription on Tiberius's coinage: 'Son of the God Augustus', which banned its acceptance by the Temple Treasurers; 'Nor unto Caesar that which is God's', namely, acknowledgment of power bestowed on him by a false god. But Jesus will at least have paid his annual poll-tax at Nazareth, since the Pharisees regarded this as a punishment ordained by God for Israel's sins, and in Matthew xxiii. 1 he orders his disciples to obey the Pharisees.
I never lend on interest, or even on security, to a close friend; but neither do I raise an outcry like the Moslem widow who discovered that the money she had put into a bank was yielding interest. The manager explained that interest, though forbidden by the Prophet, was in?separable from banking; and that she could always give hers to the poor. 'No,' said she, 'it's not mine to dispose of. You give it to the poor!' 'Very well, madam! Name your charity, and send me a written authority for the transfer.' She shouted: 'How can I authorize you to dispose of what I am forbidden to acknowledge as mine?'
One can't fight Mammon. For reasons of health, I am domiciled abroad, but in theory resident here; and am taxed on my earnings at source, although disenfran- chized (having had my University vote taken from me by a Labour Government and never given back by the Con?servatives, as they promised). Yet I don't raise the cry 'No taxation without representation!', and continue a loyal subject of the Queen, pretending to myself that her laws are not really framed by a Cabinet led by Mammon's chief executive?the First Lord of the Treasury, whom she expects me to venerate on her account while for?bidden to vote for him! And when, on legal advice, I sell my literary copyrights to a foreign company and pay a reduced tax on them?instead of the personal 7s 9d in the ?, which seems inequitable since I am already taxed as a resident of Spain?the First Lord of the Treasury sends Mr Bloodsucker of the Inland Revenue to 'stop that leak' by browbeatihg^his opposite number in the foreign country concerned, meanwhile withholding payment of my royalties at source. An odd situation. I am within my legal rights, and Mr Bloodsucker, as a civil servant, stands to gain nothing except maybe promotion by his unethical trip. And the main reason that I took legal ad?vice was to avoid dishonesty! If taxed as a company, I need not make out an annual claim for refund on account of authorial expenses, which I can only guess at because I never keep accounts; and which Mr Bloodsucker can't check, because I live abroad; and which my income tax consultant inspires, knowing that Mr Bloodsucker takes a curious view of how writers live, and allows me necessary expenses which I do not incur, while disallowing other, more necessary ones, which I do incur. Being something of a Pharisee, I consider Mr Bloodsucker's tax a punish?ment inflicted on me for a failure to think poetically all the time.
Everyone, except the occasional Robinson Crusoe, or gaolbird, or insane pauper, needs money; but its distri?bution nowadays is eccentric, and a full purse may de?pend on an accident of birth, or on skill, or industry, or sleight of hand, or blind luck. In many Moslem and Catholic countries, great wealth and great poverty still co-exist, as they did at Jesus' Jerusalem. Without abun?dant poor, how can the faithful give abundant alms?
Ideal communism takes Aboriginal Society for its model; but all experiments in brotherly love, even when sponsored by so economically adept a philanthropist as Robert Owen, have failed unless enforced and maintained by sheer need?such as natural disasters like ship?wrecks which leave survivors stranded on desert islands. Or, as in Russia after the October Revolution: a break?down of central government. Or, as in Israel: where a con?stant state of emergency encouraged the growth of kibbutzim. Or, as in ancient Sparta: where, we are told, King Lycurgus persuaded the aristocrats to protect themselves against their Helot serfs, and against their enemies of Elis and Messene, by adopting a semi-com?munistic system in which, to prevent bribery, luxury and trade ties with neighbouring states, an iron coinage was struck. Brides were no longer bought, and selective breed?ing encouraged; all means were communal?'a Spartan diet' of bread and black broth. The Spartans admitted no foreigners to their society, with the curious exception of Alcibiades, a renegade Athenian, who in return gave them valuable strategic advice and aided the selective breeding campaign by seducing the Queen of Sparta herself. Children belonged to the State; nobody emi?grated; the Spartans hated all outsiders and were hated in return. Every man knew every other man, at least by sight and reputation. And Sparta kept her nominal inde?pendence long after the Romans occupied Greece.
By the way, accounts of Spartan iron money must not be taken too literally. They come from Greek philosophers who were intent on building up in retrospect an ideal re?public of dedicated citizens, and liked to forget that the regular Peloponnese currency once consisted of iron spits imported from Anatolia: iron having, by Dorian times, ousted bronze in military and agricultural use. Elsewhere, copper ingots were favoured; but when the seventh- century Lydians paid their Greek mercenaries in small silver disks (stamped with a guarantee of fineness), Athens, Thasos and other states that owned silver mines, thought this a good idea. The Spartans, who had none, imported gold and silver for personal or religious use? paying in slaves, procured by means of these same spits beaten into swords and spearheads?but found a silver currency expensive and retained the iron one. It must be remembered that iron, before the invention of Bessemer's process, did not rust so quickly. . . . Moreover, the Spartan diet of barley bread and bean soup was no better proof of austerity than a German peasant's preference for pumper?nickel and beer soup; they just happened to like both.
The Soviet Russian experiment, despite an energetic propaganda against pluto-democratic bandits and Fascist beasts, has so far failed to eliminate private property. The ex-Czarist Empire proved too large and diversified a unit to accept the idea of brotherliness. Later, when all danger of foreign intervention had passed, the new proletarian dictators set out to enforce brotherliness by unbrotherly means. . . . Israel's kibbutzim, on the other hand, have not yet failed, partly because a sense of emergency still exists; partly, because their communism was prompted by so genuine a sense of brotherhood and sisterhood that most old members would be ashamed to quit. Yet the kibbutzim have not kept pace with the rise in population, and some are now reduced to hiring immigrant labour.
Of the two power-blocs disputing for world sovereignty, one is controlled by Mammon-lovers; one by Mammon- fearers. Although the Mammon-fearers preach ideal com?munism, under which everyone labours for the nation's good, they enforce it not only by honours and rewards for honest work that should be its own reward, but by im?prisonment and even capital punishment for evasion of honest work. And they strengthen their cause by the same psychological means that disgraced the mediaeval Church, and Czarism.
As for Mammon-lovers, they have long been busily securing raw materials at bargain prices, capturing world trade by the sale of manufactured goods at sharp prices, and doing all they can to ingratiate themselves with the governments of underdeveloped countries. Their aim is to confer on the poor, benighted foreigner a richer and more civilized way of life. . . . Yet many warm-hearted Americans travelling abroad are shocked to find that a prodigal Foreign Aid programme has not made them any more loved than their British predecessors?whom they have out-bought and out-sold by a more efficient cult of Mammon?indeed, on the whole, rather less.
Not only is it certain that money cannot buy love; but ?as the millionaire play-boy once told a designing star?let?'Love cannot buy money.'
Since international capitalism goes under democratic disguise and has not so far taken over more than a small part of the civilized world (by controlling industry, science, education, entertainment), a freedom-loving poet may still escape to some region where he can disre?gard politics, think, do and say what he pleases, and print his own books without an official imprimatur. A dictator?ship of the proletariat rules out such freedoms; where?as capitalism, by its very inefficiency in standardizing
appetites and habits,
has become a shield for people who neither love nor fear money, and cannot be much inter?ested in the rules that govern its distribution, unless trade cycles temporarily keep them short of food.
Most Englishmen will entertain a friend or even a stranger, at considerable cost; yet they baulk at offering a gift of money?except to children, professional beggars, or organized charity: gifts must always be disguised as loans. Moreover, blasphemy against Mammon is far more dangerous nowadays than blasphemy against God. The old atheistic trick of taking out a watch and giving God two minutes to strike one dead?Mussolini used to do j that as a young man; but God's mills grind slowly?is less shocking than to tear up a five-pound note and let the wind carry away its pieces. . . .
I know few Englishmen capable of such an act, even though the paper has no intrinsic value and its destruction can be praised as a patriotic lowering of the national debt. I very much doubt whether I could do it myself; but then I have a Protestant conditioning which, though I am no longer a believer, still prevents me, for instance, from laying a book, on top of a Bible, even a Biblical Con?cordance; or from tmhsyving away a crust of bread without making the sign of the cross on it. . . . My rationalization of such piety towards a Bank of England note would be: 'Anyone watching would feel enraged that I had not let it blow, untorn, down the street: for himself, or some other lucky fellow, to pocket quietly. . . .' But suppose I destroyed it in private? Would I not suffer feelings of guilt towards my poorer friends who might have made good use of it?
A holiday incident from my North Welsh childhood comes to mind. We had bought teas at a lake-side farm; afterwards I went to play in the farmyard. When a wagonette drove up with more visitors, I ran to open the gate. Someone tossed me a sixpence, and though I did not throw it back, the idea that my disinterested courtesy had been mistaken for money-making shocked me. . . . My male ancestors had always been professional men? doctors, scholars, clergy and civil servants?and always intermarried with their own kind. At home, we despised trade of any sort, and to this patrician prejudice was added a secretive hardness about money?very much like the family attitude towards sex?meant to rob its possession or use of all joy. I was stinted of pocket money as a child, and still occasionally dream of picking up pennies by the hatful in a park; so that finding sixpence on a pavement now makes me feel infinitely richer than any royalty cheque.