Charity in Truth Melinda Selmys Orriginally published in Issue XXII of Vulgata, Nov. 2009

I recall, about a seven years ago, receiving the reports from friends and relatives who had gone out to brave the tear-gas and rubber bullets at one of the big global trade summits. I had not gone, both because I had a small baby whom I did not want to expose to the excessive force routinely used against protestors, and also because I really didn't know what I thought about globalization.

My ambivalence continued until, very recently, I read Benedict XVI's encyclical on development, Caritas in Veritate.

Reactions to the encyclical have varied across the Catholic and mainstream press. Soft liberal types herald it as a glowing Vatican affirmation of global governance and make the usual attempts to sweep the parts about population control and abortion under the carpet. Conservatives, and especially people in the Patriot movement and other anti-globalist camps, condemn it as an attempt to honey the sword of elite global domination. Almost everyone has their criticisms and reservations.

I think that the main reason for this is that we live in a society of slogans, and are accustomed to thinking and reacting to bite-sized pieces of information. Caritas in Veritate is not bite-sized; the single paragraph that deals with the need for a "world political authority" is buried five chapters in, and it can only be understood or evaluated in the context of the much wider, and more profound, consideration of the issues given in the rest of the document.

Initially, I shared the reaction of so many commentators to Benedict's desire for a world authority. We are so accustomed to the present world order (which, even though it consistently insists on dubbing itself "new" is all too depressingly familiar) that we lack the ability even to hope for a better situation. Having seen the United Nations become a tool for the spread of the abortion, sterilization, forced vaccination, homosexualism, contraception and the break-down of the family, we are naturally suspicious. Having seen UN troops marshalled to dubious causes abroad, often obviously in the service of the partisan interests of its more powerful member states, we are lothe to provide it with more power.

Yet what Benedict is calling for is not more power for the already bloated corporate elites. His encyclical is a pointed condemnation of a market that is driven wholly by the desire for wealth. "Once profit becomes the exclusive goal, if it is produced by improper means and without the common good as its ultimate end, it risks destroying wealth and creating poverty." Amongst the wealth-creation strategies that Benedict fingers as particularly corrisive are "largely speculative financial dealing," "an unduly rigid assertion of the right to intellectual property," outsourcing production in a way that leads to the "downsizing of social security systems as the price to be paid for seeking greater competitive advantage in the global market," and models in which business are are "almost exclusively answerable to their investors" with little responsibility for their stakeholders. One does not have to read through the lines at all to see that he is speaking of the behaviour of many multinational corporations and financial institutions which wield their power only for their own benefit, without an eye to the broader, equitable development of the human community.

Nor is he ignorant of the dangers presented by a technocratic ideology with a utopian scientific agenda. "All of humanity is alienated when too much trust is placed in merely human projects, ideologies and false utopias." He concentrates at length on the dangers of a society which sees technological advancement as an end in itself, and on the risk for technological advanced cultures to see themselves as morally and culturally superior. In particular, he points to the risk of hedonistic, consumerist, secular and atheistic values being imported to developing countries alongside genuine aid and development initiatives. He also warns that "we must not underestimate the disturbing scenarios that threaten our future, or the powerful new instruments that the "culture of death" has at its disposal." Alongside abortion, he lists euthanasia and eugenics as foremost amongst these instruments.

Given that the Pope is not ignorant of these evils, that he acknowledges that international bodies have used coercive programs to force sterilization on unwilling people, to encourage governments in developing nations to enact policies that increase poverty and starvation, and a litany of other evils which no ethical society can tolerate, why is not calling for the disolution of international authorities? How could he give his support to a form of governance that could realistically render the entire globe hostile to genuine human development and to the message of the gospel?

When we see the immense evils that are being carried out around the world in the name of globalism, of democracy, and of development, we are naturally afraid. The desire to close the borders, shut down international trade, reinforce national sovereignty and keep the malfeasants outside of our own domain is natural. So is the temptation to enclose ourselves in isolationist communities, and hope that we will be able to wait it out, like Noah waited out the flood. To understand the position that Benedict has taken, however, it is necessary to move beyond our fears and reflect rationally on the nature of human social interactions, and the real possibilities for contemporary politics.

Man is a social being. It is an undeniable fact that wherever new technologies have arisen that allow formerly isolated peoples to interact with one another, they begin to form relationships. It doesn't matter whether it is the domestication of horses, the Roman road, or imformation superhighway: if people are able to meet one another, they will begin to trade, to form alliances, to argue, to intermarry, to exchange ideas, and so on. This is natural and good. It means, however, that the dimensions of human society cannot be defined along merely nationalist lines. "In an increasingly globalized society, the common good and the effort to obtain it cannot fail to assume the dimensions of the whole human family."

Benedict is not laying out an ideological position here; he is merely stating an incontrovertible fact. Globalization is not an ideology, an economic force, or a political system, that can be opposed or embraced. It is a fact of the modern world which proceeds necessarily from the creation of a communications and trade infrastructure that encompasses the entire planet. Nor is it wise to hope for the dismantling of this infrastructure; as much as we may be frustrated with the abuse of technology, and with the exploitations and usurpations of the present political and economic structure, we cannot overlook the real consequences that would ensue if we attempted to undo the progress which the human race has made over the past centuries.

An exessive suspicion of technology is just as problematic as an excessive faith in it. Such suspicion "leads to a rejection, not only of the distorted and unjust way in which progress is sometimes directed, but also of scientific discoveries themselves, which, if well used, could serve as an opportunity of growth for all. The idea of a world without development indicates a lack of trust in man and in God."

The difficulty is that globalized society is currently suffering from numerous distortions and injustices. The present economic difficulties arise from the fact that international relations are being undertaken in a climate that is, in many ways, essentially lawless. As in America's wild west, there are laws, and there are people who are supposed to enforce the laws, but real enforcement is essentially impossible. International declarations of human rights have been repeatedly signed and ratified, and yet the exploitations of peoples, and the denial of their basic rights, goes on routinely, particularly in the developing world, but also increasingly in the West.

These problems are compounded by the fact that the bodies responsible for enforcing international law are often under the control of the most lawless and exploitative elements of the international community. Various branches of the United Nations have been used extensively to enforce the agenda of the "culture of death" under the pretext of development, while the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank have often engaged in what amounts to economic blackmail, sinking developing countries into insurmountable debt and then forcing them to accept unjust treatment from multinational corporations.

Benedict does not name names, and he does not propose an alternative system, for the simple reason that this lies well outside of the perview of magisterial authority. He does, however, point us towards the fact that while international institutions are a necessity if the rule of law and justice is to prevail in the conduct of nations towards one another, these institutions stand in dire need of reform. "In the face of unrelenting growth of global interdependence, there is a strongly felt need...for a reform of the United Nations Organization, and likewise of financial institutions and international finance." In particular, he hopes to see international organizations which give "an effective voice" to poorer nations.

The Church has always recognized that hope for justice in the world must not be founded on the desire to overthrow the present institutions, but on the diligent work of individuals to redeem systems that have become corrupted. Mere revolution often ends in the establishment of a system that is just as capable of immoral excesses, just as violent, and just as exploitative as the system which has been abolished. This is seen clearly in the case of the French revolution and of the communist revolutions in various countries. In the present day, in particular, we are faced with organizations that are democratic, equitable, and peaceful in theory, but which are deeply flawed in practice. These organizations must, therefore, be revolutionized from within, through a call to repentance on the part of those responsible for injustices, and by the concerted moral action of all who participate. In the end this may involve the removal of certain individuals from positions of power, and it will certainly involve massive changes in the manner in which these organizations are administered.

The present body politic, like the Jews in the time of Christ, may want the Church to come out and issue a resounding call to arms -- a political-messianic vision that will deliver the world from unjust rulers. Yet the Church looks to Christ. Recall the men who came and asked Him whether or not they ought to pay taxes. The taxes were certainly not just -- a tax-collector was essentially understood to be a collaberator, a thief and bully who adorned with own purse by exploiting those he taxed. Nor was the government of the time a glowing example of peaceful democracy shining like a light to the nations -- the Roman republic had fairly recently been usurped, and Tiberius wore the imperial purple. Yet Christ did not call for an uprising. Instead He told His followers that the "kingdom of God is within."

Caritas in Veritate repeats this message for the modern world, reminding us that "institutions by themselves are not enough, because integral human development is primarily a vocation, and therefore it involves a free assumption of responsibility in solidarity on the part of everyone." It is a call to love and to moral action, recognizing that the only way to build a free and just society is by reestablishing the dignity of the human person as the primary end of all social organization, and by affirming God as the Creator and Redeemer of the world.