Israel in Europe

by G. F. Abbott

Another cause of the hatred inspired by the mediaeval Jew was usury, a term which was then synonymous with money-lending generally.

For an age accustomed to regard lending money at interest as a purely economic transaction, the rate of interest as an economic phenomenon obeying the law of demand and supply, and the whole thing as a question of commerce rather than of ethics, it is not easy to understand the theological wrath vented on money-lenders in old times. Yet in the Middle Ages trade in money was treated as a heinous sin, and those engaged in this occupation, to us perfectly legitimate, as criminals of the deepest dye. Dante, in whom “ten silent centuries found a voice,” expresses the mediaeval feeling on the subject by placing Cahors, a city of Provence, notorious in the thirteenth century as a nest of usurers, beside Sodom in Hell:

“E pero lo minor giron suggella,

Del segno suo e Sodomma e Caorsa.”[56]

It was a superstition of very ancient growth, and its origin can be traced back to the constitution of primitive society. In the youth of the human race, when the members of each community looked upon themselves as members of one family, it was naturally very bad form for those who had more than they needed to refuse a share of their superfluity to a brother in want. The sentiment, once rooted, continued from generation to generation, and survived the tribal system in which it arose. From a social law it became a religious tenet, and inspired legislators lent to it the sanction of their authority. It is found incorporated both in the Old Testament and in the Koran. Moses said: “Thou shalt not lend upon usury to thy brother; usury of money, usury of victuals, usury of anything that is lent upon usury;”[57] and, many centuries after, the Psalmist sang: “Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill?... He that putteth not out his money to usury.”[58] Mohammed, following Moses, emphatically declares that “They who devour usury shall not arise from the dead, but as he ariseth whom Satan hath infected with a touch: this shall happen to them because they say, Truly selling is but as usury: and yet God hath permitted selling and forbidden usury. He therefore who, when there cometh unto him an admonition from his Lord, abstaineth from usury for the future, shall have what is past forgiven him, and his affair belongeth unto God. But whoever return to usury, they shall be the companions of Hell fire, they shall continue therein for ever.”[59]

Philosophy in this case failed to rise superior to theology. Plato regards usury as a source of distress, discontent and unrest, usurers as creating, by their extortions, a dangerous class of “drones and paupers” in the State,[60] and in his laws forbids “lending money at interest.”[61] Although the Greek for interest is “offspring” (τόκος), Aristotle pronounced that money was “barren,” and therefore to derive profit from lending it out was to put it to an unnatural use.[62] The tradition was carried on through succeeding ages, and Plutarch in the midst of his numerous labours found time to denounce usurers.

The Fathers of the Church adopted a sentiment which accorded so well with the communistic ideals of early Christianity, and St. Chrysostom anathematizes money-lenders as men who “traffic in other people’s misfortunes, seeking gain through their adversity: under the pretence of compassion they dig a pit for the oppressed.”[63] The Mediaeval Church, as was natural, inherited the venerable doctrine of the sinfulness of lending money at interest and of speculative trade, and prohibited such transactions in theory. But in practice the prohibition was found impossible; nay, in many cases, injurious. No capitalist would part with his money, or tradesman with his goods, without profit. In the absence of loans and middlemen commerce would come to a standstill, and large numbers of people would be doomed to choose between a sinful life and virtuous starvation. The dilemma was an awkward one, but not too awkward for scholastic subtlety, and the sophists of the Church devoted much time and ingenuity to hair-breadth distinctions, attempting to explain the inexplicable and to reconcile the irreconcilable, by arguing that rent for a house or a horse was lawful, but interest on money unlawful, and, like their brethren of the law, they tried to avoid practical mischief by the sacrifice of intellectual sincerity. The scholastic position, being absurd, met with general acceptance.

However, in the earlier Middle Ages there was little temptation for transgression, little scope for commercial speculation, while, on the other hand, casuistry afforded abundant devices for evasion. The Church was, as a rule, content to enforce the law on clerics, but towards laymen she was more lenient. Nay, she encouraged traders to buy and sell goods unaltered, despite St. Chrysostom’s sentence that such traders are “ejected from the temple of God.” And yet she refused, as much as Mohammed did, to accept the commonsense view that “selling is but as usury,” and, while sanctioning the one, continued to condemn the other. But so long as the Papacy was too weak to persecute, the condemnation remained a dead letter, the Church being obliged to connive at a sin which she was powerless to conquer.

Meanwhile, as European society developed, money-lending went on increasing. And what would now be regarded as the inevitable accompaniment of material activity was then denounced as a symptom of moral degeneracy. At the same time the power of the Church grew, and her eagerness to suppress what she considered a sin grew with her ability. Under Gregory VII., the hurler of thunderbolts, the Papacy entered upon that career of political conquest which achieved its highest triumphs under Innocent III. ♦1083♦ Gregory had been on the throne for ten years when one of those missiles fell upon usurers, a term which, it must be remembered, in that age applied to all money-lenders alike. The warfare inaugurated by Hildebrand was carried on with unabated vigour by his successors. A decree issued by the Lateran General Council of 1139 deprived usurers of the consolations of the Church, denied them Christian burial, and doomed them to infamy in this life and to everlasting torment in the next. The religious enthusiasm aroused by the Crusades, and the economic ruin which they threatened, accentuated the common prejudice against the outlaws of the Church. Many of the holy warriors were obliged to resort to the usurer’s hoard for the expenses of these campaigns, and the Church felt that it was her duty to see that her champions were not left destitute and homeless. Pope after Pope, throughout the twelfth century, from Eugenius III. onwards, absolved Crusaders from their financial embarrassments, and Innocent III. went so far as to ordain that the Jews should be compelled to refund to their debtors any interest that might have already been paid to them.

The prejudice was further strengthened and disseminated by the religious Orders of St. Francis and St. Dominic, which soon attained a degree of official and unofficial influence calculated to enforce their precepts. Members of both orders compiled moral codes, which were accepted throughout Western Christendom as manuals of Christian ethics and guides of Christian conduct. One of the principal sins condemned in those books was usury, and the doctrine, thundered from the pulpit, preached in the market-place, and whispered in the confessional, carried with it all the weight which attaches to the words of persons invested with the power of loosing and binding in this world and in the world to come.