The End of the Caricature

Benedict XVI is profoundly aware of the world's dissonance, which to his mind is not simply a reflection of the world's plurality. In addition to the radically different political, religious, philosophical, and ideological claims being pressed in the global public square, there is the problem of a West that has lost its faith in reason—a West that has a very shaky hold on the conviction (fundamental to Western civilization from Socrates through the scientific revolution) that human beings can know the truth of things, including the moral truth of things. And that seems to Benedict not just a grave problem in itself, but a grave political problem. For how can the conversation, debate and argument that are the lifeblood of any humane politics happen when everyone is speaking a different language, no one can agree on a translator, and the very need for "translation" is regarded by the postmodern avant-garde as impossibly old hat? In these circumstances, conversation is impossible and noise dominates.

So Benedict came to the U.N. to suggest that noise could be transformed into a genuine engagement of differences through the moral reason that all human beings share in common, and through one of the lessons that moral reason teaches rational people about how they should treat with each other. We call that lesson, today, "human rights." Thus the notion of human rights as a global vocabulary that can turn noise into conversation (which was a leitmotif of John Paul II's remarks to the General Assembly in 1995) was the centerpiece of Benedict's U.N. address. Noting the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Benedict reminded his listeners that here, in fact, was noise turned into conversation. For "this document was the outcome of a convergence of different religious and cultural traditions, all of them motivated by the common desire to place the human person at the heart of institutions, laws and the workings of society, and to consider the human person essential for the world of culture, science and religion." Then he drove the point home: "Human rights are increasingly being presented as the common language and the ethical substratum of international relations."

How can we know that these "rights" exist, the pope asked. We can know them because "they are based on the natural law inscribed on human hearts and present in different cultures and civilizations." Human rights, properly understood, are a universal moral patrimony; they are not benefices to be awarded by states for good behavior, nor are basic human rights a cultural imposition from the West on the rest. Human rights are built into us—Benedict would say by "God's creative design for the world and for history," which reaches its "high point" in the human person. Still, the pope's argument that universal human rights are the reflection of universal moral truths "built into" the human person is a claim that can be engaged by nonbelievers, as well as by believers of all religious traditions that cherish reason.

Voltaire must be spinning in his grave at the thought of the See of Peter as the defender of reason in the modern world. Yet Benedict, like John Paul II, has set his face, and his church, against the sundry irrationalities (including religious irrationalities) that now stalk the world, wreaking havoc with human affairs. Moreover, by suggesting that the United Nations' moral legitimacy derives not from the black letters on paper that are the U.N. Charter but from the United Nations' commitment to protecting and promoting basic human rights and its effectiveness in doing so, the pope has helped advance, however slightly, the cause of U.N. reform.

Truth-Centered Dialogue
The pope also had some important and challenging things to say about turning noise into conversation among religions, and within the fractured Christian household.

In a meeting with representatives of world religions in Washington, the pope previewed his U.N. address by summoning people of faith to put their moral convictions at the service of the defense of human rights, especially religious freedom. He then made clear that, in his mind, tolerance does not mean avoiding differences in an exchange of pleasantries and banalities; rather, he gently suggested, true dialogue means taking differences seriously and exploring them, within a bond of civility created by mutual respect in the quest for truth: "… Religious freedom, interreligious dialogue and faith-based education aim at something more than a consensus regarding ways to implement practical strategies for advancing peace. The broader purpose of dialogue is to discover the truth. What is the origin and destiny of mankind? What are good and evil? What awaits us at the end of our earthly existence. Only by addressing these questions can we build a solid basis for the peace and security of the human family."