I really think that what we are experiencing, and unwillingly living through, is what I call a “coup de monde”. A coup d’etat would be appropriate for political upheaval in one or another country, but now this is global, with practically all countries following in lockstep with whatever is the current agenda: covid, TRANS, climate, population disruption, and so on. (Partial exceptions are rare: e.g., Sweden). What I wish to offer here is simply an analysis of one of the factors which has helped to facilitate this coup, focusing on the covid saga. That factor is the role of authorities and our responses to them.
From a very early age, we have been taught to be obedient to authority figures: initially to our parents, and then to teachers, the police, and others. This makes sense, because as youngsters we need guidance as we begin our adventure into life. We need to be warned when danger lurks or we should heed the wisdom of our elders when it comes to setting our priorities in life, and so forth. However, as adults we ought to develop a more nuanced attitude and response to authorities – responses cognizant of the difference between childhood and adulthood. Sadly, this seems to be almost a thing of the past. For at least the past three years, whenever somebody with a stethoscope around his neck, wearing a white coat, or a politician, or (God help us) an unelected health official, gives their piece, then the majority believe every word. But intriguingly, the word “obedience” actually means “to listen together”, so as to arrive at the best conclusion. It never meant just following orders – at least not among adults; how meanings have morphed.
Legislation on obedience is quite ancient. For example, in the code of Hammurabi, a legal corpus from Babylon from around 1750 BC, children are admonished to obey their parents and harsh penalties are in store for those who don’t, e.g., law 195 says that a son who strikes his parents shall have his hand cut off. Similarly the Old Testament has very severe legislation regarding lack of respect for one’s parents. Deuteronomy 21:18-21 says that a rebellious son can be taken by his parents before the council of elders and, if he is judged guilty, shall be stoned to death. (Whether any of these penalties was ever exacted is a separate question; but the legislation was definitely there).
The more nuanced response to authority figures, suitable for adults, is found in the two versions of the Ten Commandments, regarding our relating with our parents, (Exodus 20:12 and Deuteronomy 5:16). First of all, the laws are aimed primarily at adults and how they should relate to their now elderly parents, who may suffer from various infirmities or no longer be productive in the household or the community. The law is stating that, even in their weak or debilitated state, one’s ageing parents are still deserving of honour. But crucially, what these laws enjoin is not obedience but honour or respect towards one’s parents – and by extension, towards other authority figures. And I judge it quite compatible that I might disobey an order from my parents, and still retain my honour for them. If my parents, or any other authority figure, ordered me to do something which I believed was wrong, then I would have no alternative but to go against their order. And I hope that I would have the courage to act accordingly. Who knows? They may have issued their order in ignorance of many factors, or under duress, or were simply following orders from some higher power. Whatever the case, I could only be true to my conscience in not following such a corrupt order. No less an authority than St. Thomas Aquinas says that unjust laws do not have to be followed, and still advises that any disobedience against them should not cause harm; fair enough.
When it comes to authorities, and our relationships to them, it is always salutary to recall how Jesus met his messy end on Calvary. It was not some rabid mob that dragged him there. No, it was the combined machinations of, to use slightly anachronistic terms, the sacred and the secular powers of the day. The former was represented by Caiphas the high priest and the Sanhedrin (the supreme council of the Jewish authorities); the latter by Pontius Pilate, duly appointed governor of Judea. These were not minor actors or usurpers; no, they represented the pinnacle of religious and State power. And the astonishing reality is that Easter morning and the empty tomb declare that, from the divine point of view, all such powers are simply vacuous, issuing decrees of zero value. The empty tomb is the vindication of Jesus and the negative judgement on those powers which condemned him. Easter overturns all such political and ecclesiastical decisions and should make rebels of us all.
Since 2020 at least, we have seen people all too willing to obey even the most absurd ruling, the most nonsensical advisory, all in the name of some amorphous reality called public health or in order to protect grandma – the latter being the most blatantly sentimentalising tactic, which most people fell for. Following orders when one does not understand them is called “blind obedience” – and I think we have seen our share of this in recent years. This is the dreadful state in which one follows orders even if they don’t understand the rationale behind them, or even principally disagrees with them. And when disastrous results ensue, the classic escape is to say, “I was only obeying orders” – words that should bring a shudder to any believer in true human freedom and adult responsibility.
Our response to authorities and their rulings can take many forms: from willing acceptance of their validity to grudging acquiescence if they entail curtailments on our rights or freedoms, to outright defiance against what are judged to be invalid or immoral rules. But our response should never be blind obedience.