Abstract

Augustine wrote during the twilight of the Roman Empire, as it was steadily losing standing as the impregnable bastion of civilization and imperial might. It is perhaps because Augustine wrote so elegantly and poignantly during decades rife with anxiety and uncertainty that his work has resonated so deeply with more recent thinkers, from those born amid the turmoil of World War I, to the concentration camps under the Nazi regime, the threats of mutual assured destruction, the fear of terrorist attacks, the complexities of concentrated poverty, and the recognition that the combative geopolitics of centuries past has not been tamed.
In this book Bruno critically compares over twenty-five “Augustinian” interpreters from the past century, putting the reader through the paces of their respective points of overlap and conflict regarding not only the Bishop of Hippo’s perspective, but also what can be fruitfully gleaned from it for application today. Citing Jean Bethke Elshtain’s apt description of the widespread desire to “think with Augustine,” Bruno holds that many of these authors are trying to accomplish a two-step “hermeneutic of retrieval” in which they first seek to interpret what Augustine originally meant, the principles elucidated in his writings, and then apply those principles to contemporary situations and questions. Bruno also investigates, albeit in a much more limited and arguably dismissive fashion, those undertaking a “hermeneutic of refutation.” Rather than striving to apply Augustine’s principles to contemporary life, these interpreters seek to critique Augustinian strains of thought, such as those regarding sexuality or political coercion, which they argue have influenced people’s beliefs and practices in harmful ways.
One of the driving motivations of Bruno’s project, however, comes from a concern that many scholars, both those retrieving and those refuting, fail substantially at the first step and as a result fall far short when undertaking the second. According to Bruno, much contemporary “Augustinian” thought is theologically impoverished, oversimplified, and even misguided in comparison with the original focus, intent, and insights of Augustine himself. Bruno holds that such readings frequently draw in an unbalanced fashion from Augustine’s City of God and lean too heavily upon his conceptualizing of the “two cities”—the heavenly city of God and the earthly city of humanity—as an illuminative and potentially transformative way to analyze contemporary political problems, such as the authority and prerogative of the state in relation to its people, foreign nations, or the church.
In point blank response to such interpretive efforts, Bruno asks, “[I]s there even a political and social vision to retrieve? Does Augustine care about the issues that we perceive as ‘essential’ to his City of God[?]” (p. 230). Bruno’s answer in short is, “No,” at least not in any direct sense, for two reasons. First, for Augustine the political and social arrangements of the earthly city simply fail to compare in importance with focus on the heavenly city to come. They are largely a means, when possible, of providing enough protection from domestic and foreign violence for people to pray and worship duly as the church. Along this line, Bruno maintains that Augustine’s foremost concern was people’s salvation unto the kingdom to come rather than the governing of this world.
Second, in a related fashion, Augustine did not think political institutions had efficacy over people’s sinful ways beyond providing some general restraint upon wicked actions. From Augustine’s perspective, “corruption, vanity, oppression, and self-serving motives” are not rooted in political structures that simply need reform, but rather stem from people’s sinful hearts (p. 235). Although he thought it is possible for God’s grace to heal persons’ hearts to some extent here and now, he did not think that this happens via any systematic social orchestration or governing power, but rather through humble prayer and worship—though if this description is accurate, Augustine’s recommendations regarding the Donatists do raise questions in need of further elucidation or nuance.
In the final chapter Bruno lays out criteria for demarcating, “what constitutes an ‘authoritative’ interpretation of Augustine’s political and social thought,” and he identifies recent interpretations that warrant the label and others that do not (p. 229). (Reinhold Niebuhr’s “realism” does not make the cut.) Bruno distances Augustine, as well as what constitutes a valid Augustinian claim, from any direct focus on the earthly city’s politics, insisting that “Augustine was not a political scientist, sociologist, or social commentator, but rather a bishop and theologian. As a result, he commented on certain political and social themes when they touched upon the Church and the souls whom he was charged with shepherding” (p. 244).
One wonders, though, whether more just social structures could not flow from prayerful focus on the heavenly city and the reception of transforming grace. Bruno’s response to this thought would likely be, “In God’s infinite mercy, yes, of course.” Yet channeling Augustine, Bruno would contend that leaning upon such a hope distorts and distracts from the true, due place of hope for salvation in the heavenly city. Over and against those who see a more comprehensive social and political ethic in Augustine’s writings, Bruno thinks the Bishop of Hippo falls on the opposite side of the enticing question of whether, and to what degree, persons and society are transformable prior to the eschaton. For Augustine, human sin cannot be altered by different political arrangements nor achieved on grand societal scales, but rather grows on personal scales of connection to Christ.
Yet the sweeping alteration of laws, institutions, and policies over the past few centuries in certain countries to make them more just, or at least less unjust, is not something that Augustine could have imagined to any significant degree in his own time. Ancient Roman governance and the possibilities conceivable therein were radically different from those practiced and envisioned in countries across the globe today. Augustine’s dim view of the potential for personal and societal sanctification was no doubt born more out of his interaction with everyday people and adjudication of their lives than despairing interaction with the Roman government. Still, the question remains whether Augustine’s pessimism is necessarily warranted across all time and in light of different historical contexts. In other words, the question stands whether contemporary societies might offer unforeseen opportunities for perceiving and acting in the world in light of ultimate citizenship in the heavenly city to come. It is not clear, for instance, that Augustine’s insightful explorations of human love have no fruit to bear on reflection of how we might legislate and practice citizenship in earthly cities today.
Whether any such extrapolation could properly be labeled “Augustinian” is a valid and important point that Bruno presses, and there undoubtedly comes a point at which a given claim bears so little resemblance to Augustine’s own thought that it cannot be said to reflect his legacy. Nevertheless, such concerns about what is truly “Augustinian” also seem to circumscribe the generative insights that can flow from “thinking with Augustine” about contemporary circumstances, which often lie far beyond the imaginable horizons of Augustine’s historical moment. That said, any such confidence in the political possibilities of contemporary times may simply be evidence of the kind of prideful naivety about which Augustine warned.
Bruno writes primarily for other scholars who have drawn, or might be prone to draw, upon Augustine’s work. But by extension, Bruno is writing to theologians, clergy, and faith communities who might look to the Bishop of Hippo for insights regarding life spent in patient, prayerful anticipation of Christ’s return. Readers who are not relatively well versed in Augustine’s major works or contemporary interpretations of them may find themselves lost in the steady stream of names and arguments. One almost wishes for an accompanying visual map of the thinkers arrayed against one another on this field of debate. Yet Political Augustinianism provides a wealth of perspectives on, and sharp argument over, what Augustine truly said and the limits to which one can stretch the implications thereof for contemporary inquiries into the governance of this world. Bruno’s book would be an excellent text for a college or graduate-level course on Augustine.
