
Sam Harris speaks with Tom Holland about his book, . They discuss the enduring influence of Christianity on the modern world, historical interpretations of crucifixion, the moral systems of ancient societies, Paul's letters, the impact of the parable...
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Sam Harris
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Tom Holland
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Sam Harris
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Tom Holland
I'm here with Tom Holland. Tom, thanks for joining me.
Thank you for having me.
I'm a huge fan of your work. I have known about your books for some years, but I recently discovered your podcast, which you do with Dominic Sandbrook, a fellow historian, which is fantastic. The rest is history. I am working my way through Dominion, which is fantastic. And this came out a few years ago, but I'm well into it. And it's also great as an audiobook, which people should know.
Well, Sam, if I could just say also, I'm just in the process of recording it myself.
Oh, nice.
So I've just been doing that today. I've just got back from the recording studio.
So don't get the audiobook, wait for tomorrow. Yeah, that's interesting. So, yeah, I don't know if you find that as painful a process as I do, but it's surprisingly hard.
I'm finding it very painful. Very painful indeed.
I've actually had to rewrite myself that I couldn't get through. I'd inadvertently written Tongue Twisters for myself, and after 20 takes in front of an Ashen Face producer, I literally have to change the language so that I can neurologically accomplish the task. You've written about ancient Rome, Christianity, as I said in Dominion, which we'll focus on, but you've also covered the origins of Islam and the problem of jihadism in the West. I discovered, as late as last night, the short documentary you did on isis, the Islamic State, which was quite something to revisit. It's amazing how the memory of the extremity of that horror has faded for even people who have focused on it at the time. It was just such a ghastly distillation of everything that's wrong with that fanaticism, which we'll talk about. So, anyway, there's a ton to cover, and I really want to get your sense as a historian of the echoes of history that we're seeing in the present. I mean, so much of the history that you've covered on your podcast, you have a great series on the French Revolution. I think we're hearing echoes of that in recent years. Echoes of the fall of Rome and other concerns. Also, before we started, you told me you have a new translation of Suetonius Lives of the Caesars, coming out in April, which people should look for, which I didn't realize. You're a translator. You translated Herodotus back in the day, and I look forward to picking that up. So, anyway, that's a long introduction. Tom, welcome to the podcast.
Well, thanks very much for having me.
So let's start with the thesis in Dominion, the argument that Christianity is the most enduring legacy of the ancient world and that many of us who think we were never really indoctrinated in it or by it certainly don't imagine ourselves to be attached to it. An outspoken atheist like myself imagines that his morality was not actually handed to him by Jesus or Paul or medieval Christendom or the Bible thumpers in my own country with whom I'm even more familiar. You argue that so much of what we take to be natural to us in secular moral terms, is really the legacy of Christian ethics. So let's jump in. I don't mean to lead the witness too much, but let's just start with what accounts for the rise and endurance of Christianity on your account.
Well, the rise, nothing comes from nothing. So it clearly emerges from a confluence of whole kinds of different cultural streams. The most obvious of those, of course, is the inheritance of Hebrew Scripture. Jesus is saturated in that. Paul and the first Christians as well. But there is also the influence of Greece, Greek culture, Greek philosophy. Paul writes in Greek and he invokes Greek philosophical concepts and indeed infuses them into his letters. I think that you can discern more distantly because it is an influence on Hebrew scripture rather than directly on on the world of the early church. Persian dualism, the sense that the world and the cosmos is a moral entity, that there are such concepts as good and evil, which the Persians would define as truth and the lie as light and darkness. And then of course, there is the context that is provided by the Roman Empire, which is very self consciously universalist. Virgil, Rome's greatest poet, claims that the Romans have been given empire without limit by the gods. And the physical manifestations of that assumption are the great roads that are starting to be cast like the mesh of a net over the various provinces that the Romans have conquered. The shipping lanes have been largely cleared from pirates. And so the world has been joined together in a way that it had never previously been. And Christianity emerges as, in a way that is very conscious of that, that kind of universal dimension. And Paul in this, I think is the key figure, a Judean raised with a deep knowledge of, of the Scriptures, but also he has a very, very keen awareness of the vastness of the world. And in a sense he gives to the non Judeans in the Roman Empire a chance to share in what have already been discerned by many Gentiles as the kind of the spiritual and scriptural riches of the Judean inheritance. And I think in that context you can see why Christianity would be as successful as it is because it is absorbing all kinds of elements that are culturally present in the world of the Roman Mediterranean and mixing them in a way that proves very appealing to large numbers of people across the Roman Mediterranean and indeed beyond the Roman Mediterranean into the lands of the Persians as well.
But isn't the appeal still somewhat paradoxical? I mean, this is something that I think you cover in your book and it's a point that I think Paul made and Nietzsche also made. I mean, I think Paul and Nietzsche could be considered the bookends of Christianity, but both acknowledged how astounding it was that a living God was crucified and that somehow this abject failure within his lifetime to conquer anything became the symbol that so much of the world found spiritually inspiring.
Right.
I mean, there had been this historical precedent of various kings and other figures being acknowledged to be divine, right. Becoming divine at some point in their lives or just claiming to be divine. And, and yet they're not the center of a 2000 year old cult or worldwide religion. So let's linger for a moment just on the strangeness of the Jesus story.
Yeah, it's incredibly strange. And as you say, the strangeness is not the idea that a man can in some way also be divine, because most people in the Roman world take that for granted. And in fact, the fastest growing cult in the first century AD is not Christianity, but the cult of another man who was thought to be the son of a God, who proclaimed good news, who claimed to rule over an age of peace, and who when he died, was believed to have ascended to heaven to sit at the right hand of his father. And this is Caesar Augustus, the man who rules effectively as the first emperor, the son of Julius Caesar, who brings peace to a world that's been ravaged by civil war. And the achievements of Augustus are what Raise him to the heavens. The Romans, and indeed many in the provinces, feel that his achievements are of a divine order. The idea that someone who. Not. It's not just that Jesus was an unimportant provincial from a backwater, but the fact that he had suffered a peculiarly horrible death. Crucifixion was the paradigmatic fate that was visited on slaves because it was not only agonising, but it was also publicly humiliating. And in a sense, humiliation for the Romans was seen as being almost more terrible than physical pain. And you're right that in a sense, Paul and Nietzsche do kind of bookend this sense, because in Paul's letters, again and again, you get a sense of utter shock that this could have happened. Paul's letters are not kind of a cool, measured articulation of doctrine. He is wrestling with a sense of overwhelming astonishment that in some way the one God of Israel has been made manifest as someone who suffered this hideous death. And it kind of blows his mind, and he's endlessly trying to make sense of it. I think what then happens over the course of the. Of the. Of the Christian centuries that follow is that it takes Christians a long time to get over the shock and horror of this. It's really notable that through the early centuries, Christians do feel, yeah, this is embarrassing. I mean, they continue to feel unsettled by it. And even once Constantine has become a Christian and the Roman Empire starts to become institutionally Christianized, this sense of embarrassment remains.
And I think you say in the book this is a fact that had never occurred to me to even wonder about, but it took some centuries before the depiction of Christ on the cross became really admissible.
Right. So, I mean, one of the earliest ones that is done by. So there's a very early one that is done by someone mocking Christianity. So it shows a man with an ass's head being crucified. It comes from graffiti in Rome, and it's clearly mockery. One of the earliest illustrations by Christians comes on an ivory box that's now in the British Museum, and it. It shows the Passion. So on one side you have Judas being hanged and looking very unhappy about it. On the other side you have Christ on the cross. And he couldn't look more chilled. I mean, he looks. Well, he looks like he's hanging out in California on a beach. He's buff, he's toned, he's got a kind of loincloth on. And in fact, what he looks like, of course, is an athlete who has won in a great contest, which is one of the ways that in the Roman world, Christ's victory over death is understood, and it's not for another 500 years after that. So just before the first millennium that you get Christ portrayed as dead on the cross. And then throughout the high Middle Ages, there is a very deep and intense fascination on the part of Christians with the physical sufferings of Christ with his passion. And then I think people, artists and thinkers and writers in the Christian world push it to such a limit that almost they become desensitized to it. And by the 19th century, when Nietzsche's writing, I think that most people probably going into a church and looking at a cross are not thinking of it as an absolutely hideous instrument of torture, and they're probably not visualizing the appalling sufferings that a man nailed to it would have undergone. And it's kind of paradox, a very Nietzschean paradox, that probably the most devastating to Christian faith, the most devastating atheist who's ever written in the Christian tradition, Friedrich Nietzsche, should have felt the power of the cross so profoundly. And he feels it as something disgusting. He feels it perhaps in the sense that a Greek or Roman would. The idea that someone who had suffered such a servile fate could in any way be worthy of approbation, let alone worship, appalls Nietzsche because he sees it as an offence against the values of strength and power and glory and beauty that he identifies in Greek and Roman culture, and which, frankly, he thinks has been corrupted by Christianity. This faith of slaves, as he describes it, and one of the reasons he describes it as the faith of slaves is because crucifixion is the fate that is visited on slaves. And I, when I was writing Dominion, I was about two chapters through, and then I got commission to make this film that you mentioned in your introduction about the Islamic State. And I ended up going to this town called Sinjar, which had been the home of people called the Yazidis. I'm sure you'll know. I'm sure lots of people listening will know. People who were accused by the Islamic State not just of being infidels, but of being devil worshippers, and had been treated peculiarly, horribly. And the women had been rounded up, and those who were thought too ugly to take off as sex slaves had been killed, and those who hadn't had been taken off and sold into sexual slavery. But the men, some of them, had been crucified. And to be in a town that had been liberated just a few weeks before by the Kurds and the Islamic State, were a couple of miles away from where we were across kind of blank, open fields to be in a town where people had suffered crucifixion at the hands of people who viewed crucifixion as the Romans had viewed it, as a fate, that it was not just the right of the powerful to visit on the defeated, but a moral duty I found kind of existentially horrible. And it, I suppose it kind of opened my mind to the sense in which I think the idea that someone who is tortured to death has a moral value over the person who tortures him to death underpins my moral system. And I think the moral system of the. The vast number of people in the West. And I came back and I rewrote the introduction to the book to focus on the crucifixion as being the kind of maddest, strangest, weirdest symbol that anyone in antiquity came up with. And it may not be a coincidence that it is, of course, the most enduring symbol, probably the best known symbol maybe, in world history.
Yeah. One thing you get from reading history, certainly reading Dominion or your other, I guess, Rubicon conveys it to your discussion of Rome is just how foreign and, through a modern lens, pathological the ethics of antiquity were. Right. Is it Thucydides who said that the strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must? Or some that's probably close to the.
Translation, a phrase that is being quoted a lot at the moment. It must be said.
And yeah, I mean, so you actually make that point in your documentary on the Islamic State as you're walking through Sinjar, that this was a promulgation of a Roman ethic, essentially. I think you say something like, they murdered these people very much the way the Roman legions would have. Or there's some line like that direct comparison to Rome, which I found briefly shocking because I realized I rarely view the Greeks and Romans through this lens of moral judgment, the same kind of judgment I lavish upon jihadists. But yet there's something awful about their ethics and their celebration of strength over weakness.
I mean, that is a perspective that I would argue is shaped by 2000 years of Christian weathering, because, I mean, Nietzsche certainly saw the morality of the Greeks and the Romans as something admirable, as, of course, in due course, did Hitler. But, I mean, it's wrong to say that the Romans are immoral. They weren't at all. They saw themselves as the most moral of peoples, and this is why the gods had given them the rule of the world.
And also, you read the Stoic philosophers, right? And you're in the presence of some of the greatest wisdom philosophy has ever produced. And yet to know of the normalcy of crucifixion occurring in the background is peculiar.
I mean, I think so. As a child, I always found Greece and Rome infinitely more glamorous than. Than the Israelites, than the apostles. So I was always team Pharaoh, team Nebuchadnezzar, team Pontius Pilate. I kind of thrilled to the glamour and the swagger of these ancient civilizations, rather in the way that I'd thrill to the glamour and the swagger of Tyrannosaurs as an even younger child. And I guess that I was perfectly capable of being thrilled and excited by the thought of the Spartans at Thermopylae or Caesar conquering Gaul. And I would do that in part by also identifying my moral inheritance as something that derived from Greek philosophy. But I guess that one of the. Well, actually, probably the main thing that led me to write Dominion, a history of Christianity, which I had never been on my agenda. I always viewed. I had a kind of almost synesthetic sense of antiquity. And I thought of Greece and Rome as with bright blue Californian skies. And I thought of Christianity as, you know, the drizzle of an English autumn setting in and blotting out the sun. But I realized as I wrote about Caesar, who was hailed as a great man by his fellow citizens for inflicting hundreds of thousands of casualties on and during the course of the conquest of Gaul, enslaving an equal number and kind of exulting in it and realizing that this really wasn't my moral system at all. And I began. I felt it was kind of like, you know, I suppose the kind of the prickle in the back of the throat that heralds the onset of a cold. The sense that something was kind of. That I had couldn't quite get a handle on was waiting to take me over. And I began to think, well, is it actually Christianity that changes? Is that what explains the process of transformation? And I explored it in the third work of history I wrote, which was focused very much on what I think is a kind of great process of Revolution in 11th century Latin Christendom, say, the western half of what had been the Roman Empire. And it's often called the papal revolution because the revolutionaries are people who take control of the Roman Church, and it's led by popes. And it forces through a kind of very radical process of a recalibration of society that essentially divides the world into rival spheres. That in due course, in the west, is what we call religion and the secular. And this is a division that did not exist in antiquity. It didn't exist in any other of the civilizations of Eurasia. And I enjoyed the paradox that, that secularism would not probably have been secularism without the labors of 11th century popes. It seems to be a very entertaining paradox. So I explored that. And then, and then on the back of that, I then became interested in what was the role of Islam in all of this. And I, I wrote a book on Islam where I was quite skeptical about quite a lot about early Islam.
This is in the shadow of the sword.
In the shadow of the sword. So it seemed to me that the great question about Islam is where does the Quran come from? And it is amazing the number of books by very distinguished scholars. So it's not even kind of popular history. Who will say about the revelations Muhammad.
Received from the Archangel Gabriel? That's the scholarly opinion of the academy.
They don't say that, but they might say he received the revelations and they leave it at that. And I thought, well, that's not really an adequate explanation if you're not a Muslim. I mean, if you're a Muslim, then of course it's perfectly adequate. I mean, you know, that's the foundation of a Muslim's faith. But if you're not, you've got to say, where does it come from? And it did seem to me that the Quran was, I mean, if the Quran had materialized in, I don't know, 15th century New Zealand, I mean, that would be a miracle. It would be incredible. But the fact that it materializes in a place that is rife with Jewish and Christian and Zoroastrian and Roman and Persian and all kinds of cultural influences. And that this is exactly what it reflects made me think that Islam was a product of this, but one that had gone on a radically different direction from Christianity. And so thinking that and studying it and kind of reifying my thoughts about how what today we would call Judaism and Christianity and Islam and Zoroastrianism were kind of related, but quite radically different in their presumptions. Again sharpened for me the sense of what was distinctive about Christianity and my own sense of being very, very shaped by it. And so that's how I then came to write Dominion. And Dominion was a process of stress testing that theory because when I began it, I wasn't entirely sure what conclusions I would end up with.
Well, I want to get to Islam, as I said, but let's linger here on the connection that you argue for between Christian ethics and secular ethics that many of us imagine to be quite denuded of any propositional claim about the truth or necessity of Christianity. Someone like myself I moved through the world having various moral intuitions informed by just my own thought and then just my collision with the history of ideas, whether it's Western philosophy or Eastern philosophy or religions like Christianity. But that amalgam translates in my thinking into something that has no necessary connection, certainly to Christianity. So let me just throw a few or try to create a few wrinkles in that picture. One is that so when you take Christianity itself, the early Christians, you know.
Sam Harris
From Jesus onward, first of all, they were Jews. If you'd like to continue listening to this conversation, you'll need to subscribe@samharris.org Once you do, you'll get access to all full length episodes of the Making Sense Podcast. The podcast is available to everyone through our scholarship program, so if you can't afford a subscription, please request a free account on the website. The Making Sense Podcast is ad free and relies entirely on listener support, and you can subscribe now@samharris.org Sat.
Making Sense with Sam Harris: Episode #406 — The Legacy of Christianity
Release Date: April 7, 2025
In Episode #406 of Making Sense with Sam Harris, renowned historian Tom Holland joins Sam Harris to delve into the profound and enduring legacy of Christianity. This comprehensive discussion explores the historical rise of Christianity, its paradoxical symbols, and its foundational impact on modern secular ethics. Below is a detailed summary capturing the key points, discussions, insights, and conclusions from their engaging conversation.
Tom Holland begins by expressing his admiration for Sam Harris's work, particularly highlighting his book Dominion, which argues that Christianity is the most enduring legacy of the ancient world. Holland emphasizes the often-overlooked notion that even secular moral intuitions are deeply rooted in Christian ethics.
Tom Holland [04:09]: "You argue that so much of what we take to be natural to us in secular moral terms, is really the legacy of Christian ethics."
Sam Harris outlines the multifaceted cultural influences that facilitated Christianity's rise within the Roman Empire. He points to the synthesis of Hebrew Scriptures, Greek philosophy, Persian dualism, and the Roman Empire's universalist outlook as critical elements that made Christianity appealing across diverse populations.
Sam Harris [04:09]: "Paul in this, I think is the key figure, a Judean raised with a deep knowledge of the Scriptures, but also he has a very, very keen awareness of the vastness of the world."
Harris emphasizes Paul's role in integrating Judean heritage with the expansive nature of the Roman Empire, making Christianity a universal religion adaptable to various cultural contexts.
The conversation shifts to the enigmatic central symbol of Christianity: the crucifixion of Jesus. Tom Holland and Sam Harris discuss how the image of a crucified, divine figure contrasts sharply with contemporary and historical expectations of divinity and power.
Tom Holland [07:18]: "It's incredibly strange. ... the fact that he had suffered a peculiarly horrible death."
Sam Harris elaborates on the initial Christian discomfort with the crucifixion, noting that early depictions of Jesus did not emphasize the agony and humiliation of the crucifixion. Over centuries, Christians became desensitized to this image, leading to its prevalent, yet paradoxical, acceptance.
Sam Harris [11:09]: "It may not be a coincidence that it is, of course, the most enduring symbol, probably the best known symbol maybe, in world history."
Sam Harris traces the transformation of the crucifixion image from an embarrassing symbol for early Christians to a revered icon over centuries. He notes that it wasn't until the first millennium that Jesus began to be portrayed as dead on the cross, gradually losing its immediate associations with suffering and humiliation.
Sam Harris [11:23]: "Just before the first millennium that you get Christ portrayed as dead on the cross."
This evolution signifies how Christians overcame their initial discomfort, allowing the symbol to become a cornerstone of Christian identity and theology.
Tom Holland brings up Friedrich Nietzsche's profound repulsion towards the symbol of the cross, highlighting its clash with Nietzsche's values of strength, power, and beauty derived from Greek and Roman traditions.
Tom Holland [16:15]: "It's kind of paradox, a very Nietzschean paradox, that probably the most devastating to Christian faith ... should have felt the power of the cross so profoundly."
Sam Harris concurs, explaining that Nietzsche viewed the crucifixion as an offense against the values of his admired classical civilizations, perceiving Christianity as the "faith of slaves."
Sam Harris [11:09]: "Crucifixion is the fate that is visited on slaves... the most enduring symbol."
Drawing from his experiences, Sam Harris recounts his visit to Sinjar, a town ravaged by the Islamic State (ISIS). Witnessing the brutal crucifixions carried out by ISIS militants, Harris reflects on the deep-seated moral frameworks that underpin such acts of terror, drawing parallels to the Roman use of crucifixion.
Sam Harris [16:15]: "I think the idea that someone who is tortured to death has a moral value over the person who tortures him to death underpins my moral system."
This visceral encounter reinforced Harris's belief in the profound impact of Christian moral teachings on Western ethics, emphasizing the abhorrence of such brutality today.
The dialogue explores how Christian ethics have seamlessly integrated into modern secular morality. Tom Holland challenges this notion, suggesting that historical Christian influences have shaped contemporary views without explicit recognition.
Tom Holland [17:36]: "That is a perspective that I would argue is shaped by 2000 years of Christian weathering."
Sam Harris agrees, positing that many of our moral intuitions, even in a secular context, are vestiges of Christian ethical frameworks.
Sam Harris touches upon his exploration of Islam in his works, particularly in In the Shadow of the Sword. He discusses how Islam, emerging from a milieu rich in Jewish, Christian, Zoroastrian, and Roman influences, diverged significantly from Christianity, yet remains intertwined in its historical and ethical legacy.
Sam Harris [21:48]: "Islam was a product of this, but one that had gone on a radically different direction from Christianity."
This analysis underscores the complex interrelations among major world religions and their distinct paths in shaping human civilization.
While the transcript provided ends abruptly, the conversation evidently sets the stage for a deeper exploration of how Christian ethics have permeated secular thought and how this legacy interacts with contemporary moral and philosophical landscapes. The discussion invites listeners to reflect on the often-unseen influences of religious traditions on modern societal values.
Notable Quotes:
Tom Holland [04:09]: "You argue that so much of what we take to be natural to us in secular moral terms, is really the legacy of Christian ethics."
Sam Harris [11:09]: "It may not be a coincidence that it is, of course, the most enduring symbol, probably the best known symbol maybe, in world history."
Sam Harris [21:48]: "Islam was a product of this, but one that had gone on a radically different direction from Christianity."
This episode of Making Sense offers a profound exploration of Christianity's enduring legacy, its symbolic paradoxes, and its foundational role in shaping modern ethical frameworks. Through the insightful dialogue between Sam Harris and Tom Holland, listeners gain a deeper understanding of how ancient beliefs continue to influence contemporary thought and society.