This week I’ve been re-reading William R. Hutchison’s Errand to the World: American Protestant Thought and Foreign Missions. It’s a great book about a vital subject that too many people know nothing about.
Americans, even many American historians, don’t generally know very much about the history of our country. This is partly because we’ve stopped teaching much history in our schools and colleges. It’s partly because so much of the history we do teach rests on conceptually weak ideas about what is important. And, to be fair, it’s partly because American history is so rich, so diverse and it moves so fast that it’s not all that easy to understand.
In particular, we have a weak grasp on the history of the ways Americans have understood their identity and, closely related to that, their world mission. Reading Errand to the World is a little like turning on the light in a dark room; suddenly, a lot of things start to make sense.
The American missionaries of the 19th century are the kind of people who make our skin crawl today. They were utterly confident in the belief that western civilization was in every way superior to the dark barbarism of the rest of the world. They went boldly out into the world, setting up hospitals, churches and schools in Burma, the outposts of the Ottoman and Persian empires, the Pacific islands, in ‘darkest Africa’ and all over China. They translated the Bible into hundreds of new languages, taught English, introduced modern methods of agriculture, and established colleges and universities throughout what today we know as the ‘developing world’. By 1900 more than half the American missionaries serving abroad were women. They were, mostly, serenely and perfectly confident that Protestant Christianity as understood in 19th century America was the one true faith, that the superiority of American civil institutions to all other forms of government and social organization was due to American Protestantism, and that it was the plain duty of the American people to spread both their enlightened social ideas and the religion which made them possible to the rest of the world as quickly as possible.
At first glance, this cast of mind is so different from ours that it is hard for us to understand today. Once we begin to understand it, however, we realize that it is so exactly similar to ideas that we still hold today that we are appalled, embarrassed and stunned into rethinking some of our most basic ideas about the world.
Hutchison’s book is mostly about the period before the modernist-fundamentalist split. (A good concise introduction to this subject is George Marsden’s Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism.) In those days, the ‘high end’ churches like the Episcopalians and the Congregationalists were theologically more conservative and culturally more disposed to accepting Biblical authority than they are now; more conservative varieties of Christianity did not feel the depth of alienation from mainstream culture that they did later. American Protestantism today has rival mainline and evangelical groups of leaders and institutions; in those days a single Protestant establishment was home to various conflicting tendencies.
But the missionary movement in those days came predominantly from what would later be the mainline churches. As Hutchison says, the missionaries were “the Peace Corps before the Peace Corps.” They were often graduates of elite universities, and the vision that moved them had strong elements of secular developmentalism as well as of religious fervor. Over time, the secular side of the mission project seemed to gain ground. This was partly because the secular programs of uplift — founding schools and hospitals, for example — seemed to do more good and make more progress than efforts to convert individuals to Christianity. By the eve of World War I, with a handful of exceptions like the Hawaiian islands, the missionaries had made few converts, but their educational and medical work was changing the world.
These missionaries in other words were more the spiritual ancestors of contemporary secular ‘missionaries’ like Jeffrey Sachs and Human Rights Watch than of evangelists like Billy Graham. By 1910 the American missionary movement was largely centered around what today we would call development activities, and this is where the shock of recognition comes in. Our secular missionaries of democracy and development today seem to be as utterly and serenely convinced about the superiority of various western and American ways over those in the Third World as were their predecessors one hundred years ago. We like to think today that we are infinitely more sophisticated and intercultural than our predecessors; after reading Hutchison, I’m not so sure that we are. We are as confident as they were that American society was ‘advanced’ and had many things to teach the rest of the world; and while we express ourselves more tactfully and work harder to disguise our inbuilt sense of cultural superiority from ourselves than our predecessors did, we still basically believe that Americans have a mission to transform the world.
It’s even more interesting to see that the missionaries struggled with so many of the questions that we wrestle with today. In 1850, as much as today, there were thoughtful Americans who realized that there were problems with sense of national mission. What portion of our ‘message’ to the world is really about universal values, and what is culturally specific to our society? How do we help a country like, for example, Haiti? How much of their indigenous culture is valuable and needs to be protected and celebrated? What elements of their culture should they change (with our encouragement and support) in order to prosper? Should we step up our involvement and leadership in countries like Haiti, or should we step back so that Haitians can make their own decisions and develop their own leadership potential — even if this means that they make serious mistakes? Then as now we writhed on the horns of a dilemma; on the one hand, it’s obvious that something has gone badly wrong in Haiti. On the other hand, we are not without guilt in Haitian history and in any case how confident can we be that our answers are the right ones for them?
I find it fascinating and depressing that we are still debating these issues and in such similar ways after so long. More than that, I’m astonished that we are so little aware of how much continuity there is in our debates. Normally we take it for granted that we are much more enlightened and understanding than our racist and imperialist forebears. It’s surprising to find 19th century missionary figures who in some ways were more seriously committed to models of development that stressed local dignity and autonomy than some of our most ‘advanced’ thinkers today.
I’m going to keep reading mission history. It’s an important part of one of the biggest stories in world history: the Great Encounter between the west and the rest that has done so much to shape the last 500 years. Today in particular as Protestant Christianity in forms recognizably related to specifically American forms of spirituality is making waves from Brazil and Nigeria to China and Korea, understanding the role of missionaries in building our world order and world consciousness is one of the most vital tasks for the next generation of scholars.
I wonder if ignorance about this tradition of evangelism is the reason why a book like Dambisa Moyo’s “Dead Aid”, is received with such shock in some quarters of academia. I take it she is strongly in favor of weaning developing nations from foreign aid, partly on the grounds that it is inherently corrupting, often getting skimmed to line the pockets of local government officials.
It’s interesting that she was a student of Jeffrey Sachs.
“They were, mostly, serenely and perfectly confident that Protestant Christianity as understood in 19th century America was the one true faith.” Re-reading some of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s novels — “Poganuc People,” “The Minister’s Wooing” — I think they were right!
A tie-in to this avenue of investigation might be a history of American medical aid, and how the rest of the world has benefitted from our scientific talent and, and our concomitant impulse to spread the fruits of our investment in medical research globally. “The Billion Dollar Molecule” is a great popular account of how medical research is seeded and funded, with some history of the rise of the biomedical and pharmaceutical industry in the U.S. It’s an amazing story, with a lot of fascinating nuggets. Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin in England, but it was the geniuses at Merck, some of them immigrants, who figured out how to mass produce it. That mass production-aspect of medicine is one of the distinguishing features of American medical science, and parallels some of Walter’s history in Gold and Gold.
This is a wonderful topic and insightful post.
It’s very helpful to be reminded of the sense of mission and certainty that animated these propagators of Christian civilization, and to recognize that this same sense of dogmatic certainty was passed on to successors who turned to the social sciences rather than sacred scripture as the main source of their authority.
When Jeffrey Sachs lectures Sarah Palin about global warming and energy policy, we see more than a hint of the condescension toward the unenlightened that was passed down from the Protestant establishment. When President Obama defends his health care reform policies against the nenlightened critics, we get another glimpse.
It’s also essential to remind ourselves of the immense if often highly refined arrogance that fueled the Victorian era colonial project, and that this cultural arrogance never vanished, but was merely transferred to new venues. I increasingly see the condescension of our current liberal elites toward everyday Americans as directly paralleling the sense of cultural superiority that propelled the mission to civilize dark-skinned savages.
Well, arrogance is never good, but going too far in the other direction just gets you nihilism. Thus you can’t make blanket assertions of superiority, but you can argue for it, with an appropriate sense that you may be wrong, even though there is little reason to think you are.
The real question is, what are those arguments? One especially important set of issues for the developing world are questions of individual vs. community rights. So much of American society is built on individualism (one man one vote, the pioneer spirit, civil disobedience, etc) in comparison to the collectivism common in the developing world, that knowing the extent to which it is necessary for a well-functioning modern society to give the individual primacy becomes a very important determinant for gauging how hard we should push those we would help in our, not unambiguously good, direction.
And that’s just one example. It takes massive probity to work this stuff out, but getting it right is crucial: we’re all on this rock together.
Mao, forcing the Chinese to learn one language helps Missionaries there. It made it possible to put the Bible in one Language the entire nation can read. Making the Gospel spread faster as it heads back to its roots in the Middle East.
Mr. Mead,
You got my curiosity engaged. I will check out Marsden’s “Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism.”
Thank you.
“They were, mostly, serenely and perfectly confident that Protestant Christianity as understood in 19th century America was the one true faith, that the superiority of American civil institutions to all other forms of government and social organization was due to American Protestantism, and that it was the plain duty of the American people to spread both their enlightened social ideas and the religion which made them possible to the rest of the world as quickly as possible.”
Change 19th to 21st and it’s still true. This describes many major evangelicals today. So I’m not sure what you mean by “ours” and “we”.
“a single Protestant establishment” – in the 19th century, it makes more sense to use “the” instead of “a single Protestant”, especially when describing differences among elites.
“These missionaries in other words were more the spiritual ancestors of contemporary secular ‘missionaries’ like Jeffrey Sachs and Human Rights Watch than of evangelists like Billy Graham.” I don’t think the 19th century missionaries would agree. They would see their development efforts inextricably integrated into their Christian missionary work. Without the Christian impulse, they wouldn’t be building schools and hospitals! They would surely call Sachs “godless” and denigrate his efforts, even if he achieved the same developmental goals. These goals would still be seen as secondary to saving souls.
“We still basically believe that Americans have a mission to transform the world.” Who are calling “we” Kimosabe? Supporters of the Iraq War? This statement is a textbook example of a sweeping generalization, and one that projects your own view onto millions of other people who don’t share it to boot. “We” and “our” are littered throughout this post like plastic bags in trees. It’s easy to ignore them, but when you actually look at them, they are very ugly.
“building our world order and world consciousness is one of the most vital tasks for the next generation of scholars.” So you’re an Illuminati and a Marxist?
An accessible way into this important topic is John Hersey’s _The Call_, a novel based on his father’s experiences as a missionary in China from the early 1900s up to his deportation by the communists. A great read, a great portrait of China undergoing vast changes, and a great window on the struggles of one American to define his mission.
[...] to get (Walt’s own idea btw, thereby increasing my confusion). US hegemony, or more specifically, our relentless celebration of it as America’s right because we are so awesome, tells allies that we love the top-dog slot so much, that we’ll never pull back from more [...]
Gospel: good news
I agree with those 19th century missionaries. Our country is what it is because we are driven to share good stuff, sell good stuff, give good stuff. And that operating that way will increase the global goodness resulting in more for us, personally and corporately.
Our definition of “good” shifts around and is even self-contradictory at any given time.
I believe the main driving force of modern foreign missions is that they were and are serving as citizen’s of God and His Kingdom. Since 1812 the emphasis was to bring God’s message of His Son, Jesus Christ. That’s why they set up hospitals and schools. This article brings up some interesting points. I’m not sure the mission agencies were sending doctors to China to promote Americanism. I am an avid reader of mission stories and books. The photo above of the man with the baby is Dr. Bob Pierce. It’s spelled incorrectly on the cursor note. This photo is from the cover of his biography, “Man of Vision.”
[...] about the role of American religion in politics and foreign policy–which is, I think, a very important topic, and one I like to focus on here at the [...]