Betrayal, the Root of our Discontent

Throughout my life, I have consistently been in awe of the relevance and power of Dante’s Divine Comedy, and how, like most great literature, it speaks to you, walks with you and even grows with you as you grow. When I was younger, I suspect I was not alone in being puzzled as to why exactly Dante configured the circles of his Inferno like he did, because he did not do so, as some claim, according to a completely Thomistic or theological hermatiology (that is, the formal study of sin); rather, he did so as a fusion of his rich life experience with the dogma of the Catholic faith. The devil famously is shown in the ninth circle of hell, an abyss of ice fanned by his wings. If Dante were strictly following a schema based on the Seven Deadly Sins, perhaps he would have focused more on the pride of the devil. But instead, the chief sin, the absolute worst in his creative imagination, is the sin of betrayal.

Betrayal, or as it is known in Latin, perfidia, is not only in the mind of Dante a serious sin because it is a lack of love, which merits a place in the frozen kingdom of Satan. It is, as the word implies, a breaking of a faith or concord which ought to exist. Following the ancient maxim of Corruptio Optimi Pessima, that is, the corruption of that which is the best is the worst kind of corruption, betrayal does not only merit a place in the metaphysical hell, the place of separation from God and eternal torment; in a sense, the metaphysical hell visited upon the treacherous damned is a mirror of the psychological hell they caused for their victims.

Betrayal of any kind is one of the most painful human experiences possible, and can cause a trauma so unique and terrible that it can result in, if betrayals compound, a complete collapse in the cohesion of groups and even whole civilizations. To borrow from Dr. Jordan Peterson, “trust is the first human natural resource”, because practically everything we are able to do flows from the fact that we are able to trust our neighbor, at least most of the time. The butcher, baker and candlestick maker may be a liar, a gossip, and an adulterer respectively, but we trust them to have our meat, bread, and candles made when we come to their store. Very few people are so wicked as to not merit any trust whatsoever, at least in regard to a few fields. But one does not have to be wholly corrupt to wreak the havoc needed.

As Dante noted, betrayal’s psychological torture (reflected in hell’s metaphysical torture) is the breaking of a bond that ought to exist between people. To turn on someone or something that you once claimed you loved, is an act of malevolence which is extremely hard to bear. Our Lord tragically and beautifully bore it with the betrayal of St. Peter and of Judas Iscariot.

A malaise has descended upon the world and upon the Church, and although its roots are deep and diverse, I believe we are facing, above all, a reaction to a common feeling of betrayal by key persons and institutions. I believe this in part because the reaction of society at large is much like that of an individual that experiences personal betrayal. After the initial rage and grief, there is a sadness and a cynicism which perdures in many people, and a hardness of heart which ‘decouples’ people from their institutions, much like spouses in a failed marriage. Instead of working from within a system to reform it, many feel like there is nothing more they can do than await is collapse, and perhaps then something new can be built from the ruins. But until then, like in Dante’s hell of the traitors, they are metaphorically frozen in place, which mirrors their frozen hearts.

An extremely prominent example of that right now is the twilight of the Pontificate of Pope Francis, whose death is rumored to be within months. Let me start by telling my own story. I never liked the man, as a man. I had an almost preternatural feeling wash over me when I saw him out on the balcony of Saint Peter’s for the first time; strangely, I know I am not alone in that feeling, that that moment when were were supposed to be joyful, something seemed…off. I never read the man’s Curriculum Vitae or knew his past, but something about his demeanor chilled me.

That instinct, I should mention, transcends the liberal/conservative divide. As even Damian Thompson noted in last week’s Unherd article, Pope Francis is widely known as not being a nice man. In fact, he is a cruel and vindictive man, and even his allies have difficulty concealing that fact. As we approach the anniversary of last year’s infamous Traditionis Custodes, which severely restricted the Traditional Latin Mass, it is almost impossible not to detect the cruelty of such an act. But for me personally, the point when I felt my heart truly harden against him wasn’t the interminable “gaffes”, interviews and side comments where he denigrated or diluted Catholic teaching. It wasn’t the promotion of severely compromised men (which he then discarded) whom he used as very public trial balloons to float a revolution in Church morals, from Kasper to Coccopalmerio to Rodriguez-Maradiaga. It wasn’t the celebration of the pagan idol Pachamama, which transgressed the sanctity of the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles, over the bones of perhaps hundreds of men and women who gave their lives for Christ, rather than burn even a grain of incense to a graven image. It wasn’t even the endless synods that did nothing but cause angst and confusion for so many of the Christian faithful. For me, the last straw was when he forbade private Masses in Saint Peter’s Basilica. Everything I just mentioned was a betrayal in some way. A betrayal of the faith, a betrayal of good governance, betrayal of our moral commitments, betrayal of integrity. But banning the TLM and private Masses in Saint Peter’s affected me personally, as I remember with such spiritual joy the precious experience of walking in the Basilica, sometimes before the sunlight came over the horizon, to say Mass at one of the many high altars there. Everyone there, from every tribe, tongue and nation, was there to pray, to confess, to give thanks to God, all without the gaggle of tourists and the noise of the crowd. I simply cannot understand how a pious Priest, a good Priest, a Priest who loves seeing people at prayer out of love for God, would target these people and refuse them true ‘accompaniment,’ that buzzword I have come to loathe with all my mind and heart.

The betrayal flows down from the Pope to all the Bishops, especially in the United States. The rotten fruit of the Dallas Charter prophesied by Cardinal Dulles is now in full flowering, and the spiritual relationship between a Priest and his Bishop has been tainted by the Bureaucratic-Legal Risk Complex. The people largely don’t trust their Bishop (if they even know who he is) because of their mismanagement of the clergy abuse crisis. Now the clergy don’t trust their Bishops because their ‘correction’ was not to punish the guilty, but the innocent as well. The feelings of betrayal are ubiquitous, and remedies are few.

Betrayal also exists in our government, with elites completely detached from economic, social and natural reality. When our policy elites like Yellen and Powell have the unmitigated gall to call skyrocketing and consistently increasing prices of all goods “transitory inflation”, while most of middle America has to tighten its belt, it’s hard to know whether one should be more appalled at their ignorance of the real world economy, or their apathy to the real world person. Our police betray us in their cowardice and inability to enforce the law, because they themselves have been betrayed by government bureaucrats eager to be seen as ideologically pure, even as our cities decay and our sons and daughters are shot dead in the street.

Betrayal is increasing in the world of commerce. Almost everyone forgets that the word credit, the aboriginal principle of the modern monetary system, comes from credere, or “to believe”. Even our fiat currency is predicated on the full faith and credit of the United States Government. But if our word means nothing and our credibility is trash, how can we have a stable monetary system? Nothing can be delivered at a reasonable price or on time anymore, because companies have been so used to “just in time” production, and were so eager to generate revenue, that they accumulated an unsustainable amount of risk. The globalist system, which has now peaked, has feet of clay: we can’t have a world of free trade if we don’t have enough free and honest men and women to help it operate.

Betrayal exists in families, not only in the breakup of marriages, but betrayal by neighbors, friends and even strangers. We have not even been able to come to grips with the sex abuse crisis within families, because we have not been able to bear its true horror and frequency in our midst, but also because the traditional ‘remedy’ for sex abuse has been largely laid at the feet of judges, lawyers and courts. You cannot sue your way back to virtue, and you cannot litigate your way to healing. Justice can and does restore order to the world, but the wounds of sin and crime often remain. The emotional wounds inflicted by betrayal run deep, and can often turn gangrenous.

On one level, betrayal is a reality of living in a fallen world which is impossible to avoid. The very people who have committed acts of betrayal should repent and try to make things right. In quite a few cases, this would bring great healing. I am not advocating we live in a fool’s paradise where no one will ever suffer, but there are limits to human endurance in regard to the feeling of betrayal, because that wounds something deeper than simply injustice, cowardice and intemperance: our ability to trust and to love is deeply wounded, and that wound can even affect our ability to commune with God. I believe that a deeply betrayed society is a society that breeds atheists, because if one’s base stance toward goods like friends, family and God is deep suspicion and cynicism, it’s impossible to create meaningful, nourishing relationships. Deep wounds of betrayal are particularly toxic to vocational life. How many religious left religious life after the Vatican Council because they felt betrayed by their order? How many Priests even now are considering leaving the Priesthood because they can no longer bear the emotional and moral abuse of their superiors, who only see them as a sacramental machine, and not another Christ, and a brother?

In a world so profoundly wounded by betrayal, the only solution we have, until we have a top-down repentance from our leaders, is to choose to be solidly committed to one another. Some people have used their inner pain from betrayal to create truly beautiful things: I have had the pleasure of knowing many young couples, products of broken homes, who have decided to marry with great enthusiasm and fervor for the preparation process, because they know the Church is the last great institution that takes marriage and commitment seriously, and they do not want to revisit the pain they experienced on their children. Priests around the world are coming together in their common feelings of isolation and loneliness, and forming fraternal and prayerful opportunities for fellowship and advocacy. The sting and power of betrayal can be lessened if one can draw from other people and resources. But we need to band together and stand up. Perhaps the hardest part of betrayal is the feeling that you are caught off and alone in your own personal pain. In those moments, it may the difference between life and death to know that someone, – anyone – gives a damn.