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The Grand Inquisitor's Manual
The Grand Inquisitor’s Manual by nationally bestselling author Jonathan Kirsch is a provocative popular history of the Inquisition, the 12 th century reign of church-sanctioned terror. Ranging from the Knights Templar to the first Protestants, from Joan of Arc to Galileo, The Grand Inquisitor’s Manual is a fascinating and sobering study of the torture and murder of hundreds of thousands of “heretics” in God’s name—the original blueprints for persecution originally drafted in the Middle Ages but followed for centuries afterwards, up to and including the “advanced interrogation methods” recently employed at Guantanamo Bay.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2008
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October 26, 2019
Faith Against Religion
Karl Barth, probably the most important evangelical theologian of the 20th century, famously proclaimed that Christianity was not a religion. By this he meant that Christianity was unlike any other spiritual belief in the history of the world. And he was right.
Christianity is not a religion as the world knew religion before it existed. Christianity is an ideology, a style of thought which seeks to establish the superiority of language, its language, over all other human experience.
An absolute belief in language is what is called faith. And although Barth tried his best to separate faith from language, he failed. According to him, not even scripture could be considered as the Word of God given its status as a component of a fallen creation. But what he demonstrated through his hundreds of books and ten of thousands of pages, and millions of words, is that without language Christianity simply evaporates into nothing. Faith is necessarily linguistic idolatry.
The leaders of the Christian Church throughout its history knew and feared what Barth unintentionally showed. Religion is concerned with that which is beyond language. Faith is crucially dependent upon language and the control of language. As the world became increasingly literate, such control is harder to exercise.
Ecclesial control of language starts with the selection and approval of originary stories (like gospels), which are expressions of individual or group experiences. These are condensed into creeds, verbal statements that are the means by which members of a faith identify one another. But since the language of such creeds has no tangible referents, they must be furthered developed, in language, into official interpretations, doctrines, and systematic theologies.
With every step in the linguistic development of faith, the gap between faith and religion grows wider. Faith is by definition an intellectual activity contained solely within the boundaries of officially approved language. Any expression of religious sentiment or experience outside these boundaries is the definition of heresy.
Heresy is an event that occurs only in language, when unapproved language is used or when official language is criticised as inadequate to describe religious experience. Heresy is the perennial problem of Christianity (and other religions who have succumbed to the Christian trap of equating religion with faith, like Islam).
The suppression of heresy - not the promotion love or justice or tolerance or any other virtue - is the prime directive of faith. In other words, the entire ethical ‘contents’ of the Christian Faith is subordinate to the absolute need to preserve not just the language of Christian belief, but also the authority of the church leaders to dictate that language.
The Inquistion is the name given to the medieval attempts to maintain church authority over language. But the Inquisition was not the first or last, nor the most violent of such attempts. The suppression of language starts with the first expressions of Christianity and continue throughout its history into its various schisms, sectarian ‘reformations’ and fundamentalist pronouncements.
The history of these suppressive activities is so well documented as to be of no real surprise to educated people. What is less obvious, and of far more importance, however, is that the Christian idea of faith is the foundation for all ideology. Ideology is the enduring legacy of Christianity regardless of the decline in the institution itself.
Fascism, Communism, Liberal Democracy, even Anarchism as a political movement, are all possible because of the idolatry of language pioneered by Christianity. Each of these has in fact been explicitly supported by its proprietary political theology. And all depend upon the same faith in language whose descriptions of the world have very little to do with its reality. Among other things, Christianity has taught us how to feel comfortable with killing others for the sake of words.
Kitsch’s book is a popular version of the history of the medieval Inquistion. And he correctly connects modern events like the Holocaust, Stalinism, and the torture of prisoners at Abu Ghraib to inquisitorial techniques and attitudes. But what he fails to do is understand the relationship between the control of language and the modern world of competing, largely implicit, ideologies. The problem today is not the power of the Church to commit atrocities but the rationalisation of atrocities committed by the secularised idolatry of language.
The problem in other words is not religion, it is faith. This is where Karl Barth was heading, but he couldn’t bear the consequences. Many still can’t.
Karl Barth, probably the most important evangelical theologian of the 20th century, famously proclaimed that Christianity was not a religion. By this he meant that Christianity was unlike any other spiritual belief in the history of the world. And he was right.
Christianity is not a religion as the world knew religion before it existed. Christianity is an ideology, a style of thought which seeks to establish the superiority of language, its language, over all other human experience.
An absolute belief in language is what is called faith. And although Barth tried his best to separate faith from language, he failed. According to him, not even scripture could be considered as the Word of God given its status as a component of a fallen creation. But what he demonstrated through his hundreds of books and ten of thousands of pages, and millions of words, is that without language Christianity simply evaporates into nothing. Faith is necessarily linguistic idolatry.
The leaders of the Christian Church throughout its history knew and feared what Barth unintentionally showed. Religion is concerned with that which is beyond language. Faith is crucially dependent upon language and the control of language. As the world became increasingly literate, such control is harder to exercise.
Ecclesial control of language starts with the selection and approval of originary stories (like gospels), which are expressions of individual or group experiences. These are condensed into creeds, verbal statements that are the means by which members of a faith identify one another. But since the language of such creeds has no tangible referents, they must be furthered developed, in language, into official interpretations, doctrines, and systematic theologies.
With every step in the linguistic development of faith, the gap between faith and religion grows wider. Faith is by definition an intellectual activity contained solely within the boundaries of officially approved language. Any expression of religious sentiment or experience outside these boundaries is the definition of heresy.
Heresy is an event that occurs only in language, when unapproved language is used or when official language is criticised as inadequate to describe religious experience. Heresy is the perennial problem of Christianity (and other religions who have succumbed to the Christian trap of equating religion with faith, like Islam).
The suppression of heresy - not the promotion love or justice or tolerance or any other virtue - is the prime directive of faith. In other words, the entire ethical ‘contents’ of the Christian Faith is subordinate to the absolute need to preserve not just the language of Christian belief, but also the authority of the church leaders to dictate that language.
The Inquistion is the name given to the medieval attempts to maintain church authority over language. But the Inquisition was not the first or last, nor the most violent of such attempts. The suppression of language starts with the first expressions of Christianity and continue throughout its history into its various schisms, sectarian ‘reformations’ and fundamentalist pronouncements.
The history of these suppressive activities is so well documented as to be of no real surprise to educated people. What is less obvious, and of far more importance, however, is that the Christian idea of faith is the foundation for all ideology. Ideology is the enduring legacy of Christianity regardless of the decline in the institution itself.
Fascism, Communism, Liberal Democracy, even Anarchism as a political movement, are all possible because of the idolatry of language pioneered by Christianity. Each of these has in fact been explicitly supported by its proprietary political theology. And all depend upon the same faith in language whose descriptions of the world have very little to do with its reality. Among other things, Christianity has taught us how to feel comfortable with killing others for the sake of words.
Kitsch’s book is a popular version of the history of the medieval Inquistion. And he correctly connects modern events like the Holocaust, Stalinism, and the torture of prisoners at Abu Ghraib to inquisitorial techniques and attitudes. But what he fails to do is understand the relationship between the control of language and the modern world of competing, largely implicit, ideologies. The problem today is not the power of the Church to commit atrocities but the rationalisation of atrocities committed by the secularised idolatry of language.
The problem in other words is not religion, it is faith. This is where Karl Barth was heading, but he couldn’t bear the consequences. Many still can’t.
January 16, 2009
I’ve read most of Jonathan Kirsch’s work, beginning with The Harlot by the Side of the Road. In his earlier books, he’s an engaging writer able to winkle out some of the lesser known aspects of commonly accepted ideas and stories in Western history – as in his first book, Harlot, which highlighted “real” and obscure but important stories from the Hebrew and Christian bibles.
In recent works, however, I’ve felt that Kirsch has been throwing together poorly integrated essays in response to popular obsessions, and I’ve become less and less eager to read his latest. In A History of the End of the World, it was millennialism; in The Grand Inquisitor, it’s torture. The poverty and haste of his latest effort is evident early and clearly in the writing style, which is tedious and labored. Hardly a page goes by without Kirsch mentioning that the Inquisition has existed for 600 years, wreaking its mischief on anyone who disagrees with the Church.
Even as a general primer on the history of religious persecution and the “Inquisition” as an institution of the Roman Church, the book is not very satisfying. The author establishes a strawman in discussing the “apologists” for torture in academia and relying (according to the notes, at any rate) almost entirely on the grand doyen of inquisition studies, Henry Charles Lea, who was writing in the late 19th century. In his zeal to build up the image of the Roman Inquisition as a major arm of the Church, with influence over every aspect of Catholic life, Kirsch ignores the real nuances and differences in how inquisitions manifested themselves across time and space, and in how opposition to papal supremacy expressed itself in the same period. There is a serious question about whether one can write of The Inquisition (except in very specific terms like the Spanish persecutions) or whether one must write of “inquisitions” set up by papal authorities in response to specific situations (like the Templar suppressions). And then there’re the matters of diocesan inquisitions established by local bishops and others mounted by secular leaders.
Kirsch also does little to support his claim that there was a vast, west Europeanwide “bureaucracy of inquisition.” True enough, there was an office (and there still is) in the Vatican that monitors how faithful Catholics are to Church dogma, there are any number of instructional manuals penned by inquisitors such as Bernard Gui (better known popularly perhaps as William of Baskerville’s foe in Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose), there were men trained up as questioners, and meticulous records of the trials and questionings were often kept but there’s little evidence (certainly little enough for the early centuries of persecution) that the inquistions were instituted by a locally established official. Rather, a “heresy” might be detected by a local official (lay or clerical) or accusations of heresy might be brought by a local resident and then inquisitors were dispatched to the region, where they utilized the local “talent” to get to the bottom of things. Sometimes these investigations would lead to what we would consider widespread judicial murders; other times, there would be an intensely uncomfortable period of public confessions and penances and the persecutorial fever would pass (as happened in the French village of Montaillou in the 14th century).
Above and beyond that, Kirsch has little to say about the relative lack of inquisitorial persecution in regions like England, Germany and Scandinavia, where politics and culture made Rome unpopular.
Kirsch also argues that the laws the Church and secular rulers imposed on inquisitors were hypocritical and mere “window dressing,” rarely enforced. Now, as to the latter, I would tend to agree. As our own government has discovered, it’s very difficult to restrain people once the green light has been given to inflict pain as a method of interrogation or punishment. As to the former contention, from my own readings, this seems entirely wrongheaded. First off, until quite recently, torture has been an integral part of law enforcement in the West. It’s nice that we moderns at least recognize its illegitimacy (even if we don’t always act on that insight) but to apply it to the motivations of 12th century politicians and clerics is absurd. Secondly, the Church’s emphasis on legalism is a natural development from its roots in the Roman Empire, where the “rule of law” was a very important consideration in the legitimacy of government. I believe the Church’s canon lawyers were sincere in trying to limit torture’s use only to those who “deserved” it. Modern sensibilities may recoil at this legitimization of violence but is it any more hypocritical than Alan Dershowitz’s ludicrous notion of “torture warrants” to mitigate the abuses of the Bush Administration in recent history? That the Church largely failed in its efforts says more to me about the pathology of violence than to the bad faith and intentions of canon lawyers.
Having said that, Kirsch does bring out the essential unfairness of the inquisitorial process. Once ensnared in this Kafkaesque nightmare it was nearly impossible to win (not, at least, without powerful and influential friends). You were guilty and couldn’t be proven innocent. At the best, you confessed, named names (part of the confession), and hoped the penance wasn’t too onerous. (Part of the revisionist historians’ claims are that most sentences stopped well short of death and the notorious auto-da-fe.)
The final chapters of the book leave the “history of terror in the name of God” to look at the “inquisitorial” mindset of the Nazis, communists and America (HUAC and the post-9/11 scare). Beyond the fact that none of these latter-day inquisitions were specifically acting in for God, this section is too short and superficial to be very informative or useful. It’s my primary reason for thinking this was a hastily thrown together effort to capitalize on the current concerns about torture. These final chapters are a prime example of the schizophrenia of the book – either it’s an appraisal of the inquisition in the Roman Church, or it’s an examination of the inquisitorial tendency in societies, or it’s a comparative study of religious and secular inquisitions. Conceivably, the book could have been all three but it would have needed to be much longer and examined evidence and arguments much more thoroughly.
I don’t think I would recommend it to anyone without an already strong background in the subject’s historiography. There are better introductions to the topic (Edward Peter’s Inquisition and Torture come to mind) and as to the topic of torture and persecution in general there are better works focused on their particular manifestations.
In recent works, however, I’ve felt that Kirsch has been throwing together poorly integrated essays in response to popular obsessions, and I’ve become less and less eager to read his latest. In A History of the End of the World, it was millennialism; in The Grand Inquisitor, it’s torture. The poverty and haste of his latest effort is evident early and clearly in the writing style, which is tedious and labored. Hardly a page goes by without Kirsch mentioning that the Inquisition has existed for 600 years, wreaking its mischief on anyone who disagrees with the Church.
Even as a general primer on the history of religious persecution and the “Inquisition” as an institution of the Roman Church, the book is not very satisfying. The author establishes a strawman in discussing the “apologists” for torture in academia and relying (according to the notes, at any rate) almost entirely on the grand doyen of inquisition studies, Henry Charles Lea, who was writing in the late 19th century. In his zeal to build up the image of the Roman Inquisition as a major arm of the Church, with influence over every aspect of Catholic life, Kirsch ignores the real nuances and differences in how inquisitions manifested themselves across time and space, and in how opposition to papal supremacy expressed itself in the same period. There is a serious question about whether one can write of The Inquisition (except in very specific terms like the Spanish persecutions) or whether one must write of “inquisitions” set up by papal authorities in response to specific situations (like the Templar suppressions). And then there’re the matters of diocesan inquisitions established by local bishops and others mounted by secular leaders.
Kirsch also does little to support his claim that there was a vast, west Europeanwide “bureaucracy of inquisition.” True enough, there was an office (and there still is) in the Vatican that monitors how faithful Catholics are to Church dogma, there are any number of instructional manuals penned by inquisitors such as Bernard Gui (better known popularly perhaps as William of Baskerville’s foe in Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose), there were men trained up as questioners, and meticulous records of the trials and questionings were often kept but there’s little evidence (certainly little enough for the early centuries of persecution) that the inquistions were instituted by a locally established official. Rather, a “heresy” might be detected by a local official (lay or clerical) or accusations of heresy might be brought by a local resident and then inquisitors were dispatched to the region, where they utilized the local “talent” to get to the bottom of things. Sometimes these investigations would lead to what we would consider widespread judicial murders; other times, there would be an intensely uncomfortable period of public confessions and penances and the persecutorial fever would pass (as happened in the French village of Montaillou in the 14th century).
Above and beyond that, Kirsch has little to say about the relative lack of inquisitorial persecution in regions like England, Germany and Scandinavia, where politics and culture made Rome unpopular.
Kirsch also argues that the laws the Church and secular rulers imposed on inquisitors were hypocritical and mere “window dressing,” rarely enforced. Now, as to the latter, I would tend to agree. As our own government has discovered, it’s very difficult to restrain people once the green light has been given to inflict pain as a method of interrogation or punishment. As to the former contention, from my own readings, this seems entirely wrongheaded. First off, until quite recently, torture has been an integral part of law enforcement in the West. It’s nice that we moderns at least recognize its illegitimacy (even if we don’t always act on that insight) but to apply it to the motivations of 12th century politicians and clerics is absurd. Secondly, the Church’s emphasis on legalism is a natural development from its roots in the Roman Empire, where the “rule of law” was a very important consideration in the legitimacy of government. I believe the Church’s canon lawyers were sincere in trying to limit torture’s use only to those who “deserved” it. Modern sensibilities may recoil at this legitimization of violence but is it any more hypocritical than Alan Dershowitz’s ludicrous notion of “torture warrants” to mitigate the abuses of the Bush Administration in recent history? That the Church largely failed in its efforts says more to me about the pathology of violence than to the bad faith and intentions of canon lawyers.
Having said that, Kirsch does bring out the essential unfairness of the inquisitorial process. Once ensnared in this Kafkaesque nightmare it was nearly impossible to win (not, at least, without powerful and influential friends). You were guilty and couldn’t be proven innocent. At the best, you confessed, named names (part of the confession), and hoped the penance wasn’t too onerous. (Part of the revisionist historians’ claims are that most sentences stopped well short of death and the notorious auto-da-fe.)
The final chapters of the book leave the “history of terror in the name of God” to look at the “inquisitorial” mindset of the Nazis, communists and America (HUAC and the post-9/11 scare). Beyond the fact that none of these latter-day inquisitions were specifically acting in for God, this section is too short and superficial to be very informative or useful. It’s my primary reason for thinking this was a hastily thrown together effort to capitalize on the current concerns about torture. These final chapters are a prime example of the schizophrenia of the book – either it’s an appraisal of the inquisition in the Roman Church, or it’s an examination of the inquisitorial tendency in societies, or it’s a comparative study of religious and secular inquisitions. Conceivably, the book could have been all three but it would have needed to be much longer and examined evidence and arguments much more thoroughly.
I don’t think I would recommend it to anyone without an already strong background in the subject’s historiography. There are better introductions to the topic (Edward Peter’s Inquisition and Torture come to mind) and as to the topic of torture and persecution in general there are better works focused on their particular manifestations.
February 19, 2011
If you want to know everything there is to know about the Inquisition this book comes pretty close to doing that. When we speak of the Inquisition most of us do not realize that there were in fact two separate Inquisitions, there was the Medieval Inquisition and the more famous and more deadly Spanish Inquisition.
The Inquisitions were instituted by the Roman Catholic Church to stamp out heresy. The author takes this a step further and cites several reasons that grew out of this program.
The Roman Catholic Church sought to enforce a religious monopoly.
It was used as a tool to supplement the tax revenues of a spendthrift regime. It was used to settle scores between husband and wife, neighbors, and adversaries in commerce. The Inquisition was responsible for wiping out the Cathars and the Knights Templar.
The accused were not afforded a reason for their imprisonment, were not allowed legal counsel, and could be detained for years before they came to trial. Kirsch gives a description of the tools of torture and how they were used. He also claims that these same methods of torture have been used down through history up to and including modern times.
The reader will have to have a desire to learn about this era of history. The story is well told and well documented and may well give the reader facts that were passed over in history class.
The Inquisitions were instituted by the Roman Catholic Church to stamp out heresy. The author takes this a step further and cites several reasons that grew out of this program.
The Roman Catholic Church sought to enforce a religious monopoly.
It was used as a tool to supplement the tax revenues of a spendthrift regime. It was used to settle scores between husband and wife, neighbors, and adversaries in commerce. The Inquisition was responsible for wiping out the Cathars and the Knights Templar.
The accused were not afforded a reason for their imprisonment, were not allowed legal counsel, and could be detained for years before they came to trial. Kirsch gives a description of the tools of torture and how they were used. He also claims that these same methods of torture have been used down through history up to and including modern times.
The reader will have to have a desire to learn about this era of history. The story is well told and well documented and may well give the reader facts that were passed over in history class.
November 4, 2008
Could not put this one down. After years studying holocaust, genocide,etc, this one put it all together. A kind of formula developed by ancient Romans contains elements of such effectiveness that it has been used through history by successive cultures right up to present day. This put so many things together for me it will undoubtedly be on my "life list" stamped in my mind like Joseph Campbell and james Michener. Kirsch is an exhaustive researcher but like Michener captures and holds the reader. What happened when Christ died and organized religion began its insistent take over of great ideas is made crystal clear here with the description of the differences of belief. Once again it is not so much about ideas as it is political, follow the money, and get exclusive ownership of a universal dogma to control the masses.
June 8, 2015
Sensationalist style oversells salient points in Kirsch's history of the inquisitions of the Catholic church.
First, the salient points: Kirsch tells the history of inquisition as the establishment of a clerical bureaucracy, which included judges, prosecutors, police, secret agents, procedural manuals, and prescribed and preferred tools of punishment, and which paralleled the contemporary political courts and criminal proceedings in Western Europe. The difference is that the inquisitions targeted crimes of thought, not action, were not held to even the evidentiary standards of their time (the 12th through 19th centuries) and served exclusively the goals of the church: maintaining orthodoxy by rooting out heresy, providing income by confiscating property, and enforcing cultural standards by targeting and labeling as immoral particularly sexual activities. The Spanish form of the inquisition (Kirsch discusses--and alternates between--the use of upper/lower case and singular or plural to identify what were essentially multiple bureaucracies in multiple places over hundreds of years under different names to accomplish similar goals) added a particularly pernicious and persistent twist to the practice by targetting crimes of blood as well as crimes of thought, as they attempted to root out all Jewish amd Muslim influence from their society (a practice that Hitler would finetune to a 20th century Holocaust).
So, these are salient points in Kirsch's book, but he overstates them in sensationalistic catch phrases repeated, without argument, attribution, or amplification throughout the book. He provides few specific examples of torture despite the prominence of instruments of torture in the dust jacket photo and the small insert of color prints, and when it comes to discussing the exact scope of the horror, he is finally forced by the sparse and conflicting nature of the evidence to admit that the total death toll over six-plus centuries may have been as little as 100,000 (and as high as 9,000,000 according to one source he cites). Of course, even 100,000 victims of such a notorious engine of evil, even over 600 years of its existence (an average of about 165 per year) are too many and not to be dismissed, but Kirsch seems entirely too focused on telling a sensational story and not the basic truth (which might not sell as well) to enable the reader to accurately judge the scope of the calamity.
Another flaw I found was his over-reliance on a specific secondary source--an author named Henry Charles Lea, who is identified in a quote from another author in this book as being well-known as a skeptic and anti-clerical source! Now, it is quite acceptable for a popular history such as this one to rely solely on secondary sources, especially on a topic as old and as chronologically (600+ years) and geographically (France, Spain, Italy, and other European countries) dispersed as this one, but over-reliance on one specific secondary source suggests that first, the reader might be better served by going to that source directly, and second, that the author may have adopted a specific viewpoint that favors this secondary source's biases at the exclusion of possibly valuable evidence from other secondary sources.
So, while Kirsch's history makes for interesting reading, it might be better read in conjunction with other sources on the history of the inquisitions
First, the salient points: Kirsch tells the history of inquisition as the establishment of a clerical bureaucracy, which included judges, prosecutors, police, secret agents, procedural manuals, and prescribed and preferred tools of punishment, and which paralleled the contemporary political courts and criminal proceedings in Western Europe. The difference is that the inquisitions targeted crimes of thought, not action, were not held to even the evidentiary standards of their time (the 12th through 19th centuries) and served exclusively the goals of the church: maintaining orthodoxy by rooting out heresy, providing income by confiscating property, and enforcing cultural standards by targeting and labeling as immoral particularly sexual activities. The Spanish form of the inquisition (Kirsch discusses--and alternates between--the use of upper/lower case and singular or plural to identify what were essentially multiple bureaucracies in multiple places over hundreds of years under different names to accomplish similar goals) added a particularly pernicious and persistent twist to the practice by targetting crimes of blood as well as crimes of thought, as they attempted to root out all Jewish amd Muslim influence from their society (a practice that Hitler would finetune to a 20th century Holocaust).
So, these are salient points in Kirsch's book, but he overstates them in sensationalistic catch phrases repeated, without argument, attribution, or amplification throughout the book. He provides few specific examples of torture despite the prominence of instruments of torture in the dust jacket photo and the small insert of color prints, and when it comes to discussing the exact scope of the horror, he is finally forced by the sparse and conflicting nature of the evidence to admit that the total death toll over six-plus centuries may have been as little as 100,000 (and as high as 9,000,000 according to one source he cites). Of course, even 100,000 victims of such a notorious engine of evil, even over 600 years of its existence (an average of about 165 per year) are too many and not to be dismissed, but Kirsch seems entirely too focused on telling a sensational story and not the basic truth (which might not sell as well) to enable the reader to accurately judge the scope of the calamity.
Another flaw I found was his over-reliance on a specific secondary source--an author named Henry Charles Lea, who is identified in a quote from another author in this book as being well-known as a skeptic and anti-clerical source! Now, it is quite acceptable for a popular history such as this one to rely solely on secondary sources, especially on a topic as old and as chronologically (600+ years) and geographically (France, Spain, Italy, and other European countries) dispersed as this one, but over-reliance on one specific secondary source suggests that first, the reader might be better served by going to that source directly, and second, that the author may have adopted a specific viewpoint that favors this secondary source's biases at the exclusion of possibly valuable evidence from other secondary sources.
So, while Kirsch's history makes for interesting reading, it might be better read in conjunction with other sources on the history of the inquisitions
September 23, 2016
People (Christians in particular) who think the world is getting worse and will continue to get worse until the "end of the world" need to read books like this. Humans are far from perfect and we continue with an inquisition mindset in our cold, hateful mistreatment towards those who don't see things the way we do but I believe there has been a gradual improvement of empathy and morality. This book confirms my opinion. Improvements might be faster if not for religions. This book also offended my sense of humanism and justice and frankly, it pissed me off. Shameful, shameful history.
March 12, 2012
Excellently written and very compelling. At times the author can come across as biased and preachy but it is contextualized and drives home the point he is trying to make. Have some patience and the soapbox moments will be rewarded. Incredibly well researched with extensive footnotes and references. Well worth the read.
December 26, 2016
A tour through the inquisition: it's reason, purpose, results, and how the techniques are still with us today, after having provided a basis for some of the darkest parts of history. Terrifying to think of crimes based on thought only, not illegal, evidence not required or presented, and this is allowed today. The world is a vampire .
October 26, 2016
Horrifying! The Inquisition is not over.
October 10, 2011
The word "Inquisition" is, in many ways, one of the most dreadful to hear. When one looks at it objectively, at the level of basic vocabulary, it seems almost innocent, associated as it is with the words "inquiry" and "inquire," words associated with ideas of polite but focused curiosity. But there is absolutely nothing polite or merely curious about the movement known as the Inquisition, as any student of history knows.
The Grand Inquisitor's Manual: A History of Terror in the Name of God is author Jonathan Kirsch's attempt to describe the Inquisition in all its horrific glory - its motivations, its mechanisms, and its failures - but Kirsch describes the Inquisition not as a historical curiosity, locked in its place in time, but as a continuing, evolving machine. Kirsch insists that, for as long as there are people who wish to control or cleanse the world, for whatever reason, then the Inquisition will never truly die.
And indeed, it was because of control - religious control - that the Inquisition began in the first place. Kirsch begins his history with the persecution of the Cathars in southern France in the Middle Ages. At the time Christianity, which was (and still is, truth be told) never a stable religion to begin with, was still ironing out some kinks in its dogma, still trying to determine what was acceptable in the religion and what was unacceptable. This fluidity of belief allowed for various other movements to evolve, all of them operating under the umbrella term of Christianity, though not under the control of the Church.
It was this inability to totally control what people believed and the way they worshiped that troubled Pope Innocent III, and it would be the impetus behind his creation of the Holy Office of Inquisition into Heretical Depravity - what is now known simply as the Inquisition. Indeed, Kirsch points out that this inability to completely monopolize faith and later on knowledge and learning would be the driving force behind the Medieval and Roman Inquisitions. It was this drive to monopolize what its flock were allowed to know and believe that would later lead to the infamous episode with Galileo and the Inquisition.
But Kirsch makes clear that the Inquisition was also very much grounded in less ephemeral concerns - political power and finance being the two other legs of the Inquisition, and the two main reasons why it lasted as long as it did, beyond the extermination of perceived heretics. Both the Church and Kings saw the Inquisition as a useful tool for gaining more money and more power, and so used it to those ends - oftentimes solely for those reasons. Kirsch offers up the Knights Templar as an example, whose wealth and power were the envy of not just certain members within the Church itself, but also of Philip the Fair. Given the nature of the Inquisition, which allows the inquisitor to take as evidence even the flimsiest of rumor, Philip was able to use the Inquisitorial machine to rid himself of the Templars, gaining both political and spiritual power from their extermination.
This thread of power and greed continues throughout all the variations of the Inquisition, but Kirsch draws an even further distinction when he begins talking about the most infamous of its iterations: the Spanish Inquisition. In Spain, Kirsch claims, the driving force was not so much the thought-crime of heresy, as it was elsewhere in Europe where the Inquisition had a foothold, but it was rooted in the concept of "limpia de sangre:" purity of blood. The Spanish Inquisition was driven by an overpowering anti-Semitic sentiment, and it used the machinery developed since the Medieval period to its own advantage in destroying and rooting out those who were not "Old Christians." Just like with the Inquisition as it appeared in France and in Italy, there was a thread of monetary and political advantage running as an undercurrent throughout the persecution of the Jews: the excuse simply shifted from "heretical thoughts" to "impure blood."
Towards the latter end of the book, Kirsch begins to describe the Inquisition not as a movement that died before World War II, but as a machine that could be used by whoever decided it would be a good idea to do so. Thus he calls the Nazi extermination of the Jews an Inquisition, specifically the kind rooted in the Spanish iteration of the movement. The Soviet Union's political machinery while under Stalin's grasp is also considered a variation of the Inquisition, since it uses the machinery of the movement as a means of controlling those who lived within its grasp.
Even the United States, Kirsch argues, is not completely innocent in this. He points to the imprisonment of hundreds of Japanese-Americans in camps during World War II, and then to McCarthyism and HUAC, as primary examples of the machinery of the Inquisition being put to use. Torture might not have occurred, that he agrees with, but the fact that a governing body attempted to police thought-crimes (McCarthyism) and imprisoned people based on their heritage (Japanese-Americans) is enough to dub these moments in American history as Inquisitions in their own right.
While this is all well and good, there are some areas that I feel Kirsch does not explore to my satisfaction, no matter how interesting it might seem. One of those is the link between witch-hunts and the Inquisition. It is clear that witch-hunters used the techniques of the Inquisition when judging their victims, but the Inquisition itself was not very concerned with witchcraft. In fact, Kirsch seems to say that inquisitors were more inclined to let suspected witches go, believing them to be insane, or judging their acts to have originated with a possession by demons, and hence not entirely their fault. The Inquisition, it appears, was more concerned with heretical ideas than with witchcraft. And yet, since the witch-hunters were using the same techniques as the Inquisition, and since the Inquisition was later on allowed to prosecute witches, Kirsch seems to argue that the two were linked.
I feel that the connection between the witch-hunts and the Inquisition is a little loose, despite Kirsch's argument that they are linked. Kirsch has already established that the Inquisition was about policing blood heritage or thought-crimes, so this association with witch-hunting seems rather tenuous. Also, Kirsch has difficulty in explaining why witch-hunts were far more prevalent than the Inquisition, occurring as they did in countries where the Inquisition had very little to no power, such as England and the Netherlands. Even the Salem Witch Trials are described as a mini-Inquisition, but the only similarity I see between them is the machinery of the Inquisition, and not necessarily the motives.
In the final chapter of the book, Kirsch attempts to link the Inquisition with the events in Guantanamo and the war on terror. That link, however, is extremely weak. While it may be argued that the methods of torture developed by the Inquisition were used on the prisoners at Guantanamo in order to extract information, and the Inquisitorial concept of "naming names" was certainly in force, I have difficulty seeing the link between the modern war on terror and the Inquisition as Kirsch has described it beyond those few points of reference. If Kirsch had written more on it, described it more concretely, I suppose I would have seen the connection, but as it stands, the chapter - which could have been the most powerful and most controversial - is the weakest of the lot.
Overall, this book is an interesting and provocative read. On one hand, it can be read as a guide to understanding the Inquisition, and on the other, it can be read as a testament to the fact that, when given power or the chance to gain it, human beings can and will do whatever they think is necessary to achieve and control that power. The Inquisition itself might no longer be around as it existed in its most infamous forms, but that does not mean the machinery has ceased to exist - it is still there, and was used, and will still be used, when those in power deem it necessary.
The Grand Inquisitor's Manual: A History of Terror in the Name of God is author Jonathan Kirsch's attempt to describe the Inquisition in all its horrific glory - its motivations, its mechanisms, and its failures - but Kirsch describes the Inquisition not as a historical curiosity, locked in its place in time, but as a continuing, evolving machine. Kirsch insists that, for as long as there are people who wish to control or cleanse the world, for whatever reason, then the Inquisition will never truly die.
And indeed, it was because of control - religious control - that the Inquisition began in the first place. Kirsch begins his history with the persecution of the Cathars in southern France in the Middle Ages. At the time Christianity, which was (and still is, truth be told) never a stable religion to begin with, was still ironing out some kinks in its dogma, still trying to determine what was acceptable in the religion and what was unacceptable. This fluidity of belief allowed for various other movements to evolve, all of them operating under the umbrella term of Christianity, though not under the control of the Church.
It was this inability to totally control what people believed and the way they worshiped that troubled Pope Innocent III, and it would be the impetus behind his creation of the Holy Office of Inquisition into Heretical Depravity - what is now known simply as the Inquisition. Indeed, Kirsch points out that this inability to completely monopolize faith and later on knowledge and learning would be the driving force behind the Medieval and Roman Inquisitions. It was this drive to monopolize what its flock were allowed to know and believe that would later lead to the infamous episode with Galileo and the Inquisition.
But Kirsch makes clear that the Inquisition was also very much grounded in less ephemeral concerns - political power and finance being the two other legs of the Inquisition, and the two main reasons why it lasted as long as it did, beyond the extermination of perceived heretics. Both the Church and Kings saw the Inquisition as a useful tool for gaining more money and more power, and so used it to those ends - oftentimes solely for those reasons. Kirsch offers up the Knights Templar as an example, whose wealth and power were the envy of not just certain members within the Church itself, but also of Philip the Fair. Given the nature of the Inquisition, which allows the inquisitor to take as evidence even the flimsiest of rumor, Philip was able to use the Inquisitorial machine to rid himself of the Templars, gaining both political and spiritual power from their extermination.
This thread of power and greed continues throughout all the variations of the Inquisition, but Kirsch draws an even further distinction when he begins talking about the most infamous of its iterations: the Spanish Inquisition. In Spain, Kirsch claims, the driving force was not so much the thought-crime of heresy, as it was elsewhere in Europe where the Inquisition had a foothold, but it was rooted in the concept of "limpia de sangre:" purity of blood. The Spanish Inquisition was driven by an overpowering anti-Semitic sentiment, and it used the machinery developed since the Medieval period to its own advantage in destroying and rooting out those who were not "Old Christians." Just like with the Inquisition as it appeared in France and in Italy, there was a thread of monetary and political advantage running as an undercurrent throughout the persecution of the Jews: the excuse simply shifted from "heretical thoughts" to "impure blood."
Towards the latter end of the book, Kirsch begins to describe the Inquisition not as a movement that died before World War II, but as a machine that could be used by whoever decided it would be a good idea to do so. Thus he calls the Nazi extermination of the Jews an Inquisition, specifically the kind rooted in the Spanish iteration of the movement. The Soviet Union's political machinery while under Stalin's grasp is also considered a variation of the Inquisition, since it uses the machinery of the movement as a means of controlling those who lived within its grasp.
Even the United States, Kirsch argues, is not completely innocent in this. He points to the imprisonment of hundreds of Japanese-Americans in camps during World War II, and then to McCarthyism and HUAC, as primary examples of the machinery of the Inquisition being put to use. Torture might not have occurred, that he agrees with, but the fact that a governing body attempted to police thought-crimes (McCarthyism) and imprisoned people based on their heritage (Japanese-Americans) is enough to dub these moments in American history as Inquisitions in their own right.
While this is all well and good, there are some areas that I feel Kirsch does not explore to my satisfaction, no matter how interesting it might seem. One of those is the link between witch-hunts and the Inquisition. It is clear that witch-hunters used the techniques of the Inquisition when judging their victims, but the Inquisition itself was not very concerned with witchcraft. In fact, Kirsch seems to say that inquisitors were more inclined to let suspected witches go, believing them to be insane, or judging their acts to have originated with a possession by demons, and hence not entirely their fault. The Inquisition, it appears, was more concerned with heretical ideas than with witchcraft. And yet, since the witch-hunters were using the same techniques as the Inquisition, and since the Inquisition was later on allowed to prosecute witches, Kirsch seems to argue that the two were linked.
I feel that the connection between the witch-hunts and the Inquisition is a little loose, despite Kirsch's argument that they are linked. Kirsch has already established that the Inquisition was about policing blood heritage or thought-crimes, so this association with witch-hunting seems rather tenuous. Also, Kirsch has difficulty in explaining why witch-hunts were far more prevalent than the Inquisition, occurring as they did in countries where the Inquisition had very little to no power, such as England and the Netherlands. Even the Salem Witch Trials are described as a mini-Inquisition, but the only similarity I see between them is the machinery of the Inquisition, and not necessarily the motives.
In the final chapter of the book, Kirsch attempts to link the Inquisition with the events in Guantanamo and the war on terror. That link, however, is extremely weak. While it may be argued that the methods of torture developed by the Inquisition were used on the prisoners at Guantanamo in order to extract information, and the Inquisitorial concept of "naming names" was certainly in force, I have difficulty seeing the link between the modern war on terror and the Inquisition as Kirsch has described it beyond those few points of reference. If Kirsch had written more on it, described it more concretely, I suppose I would have seen the connection, but as it stands, the chapter - which could have been the most powerful and most controversial - is the weakest of the lot.
Overall, this book is an interesting and provocative read. On one hand, it can be read as a guide to understanding the Inquisition, and on the other, it can be read as a testament to the fact that, when given power or the chance to gain it, human beings can and will do whatever they think is necessary to achieve and control that power. The Inquisition itself might no longer be around as it existed in its most infamous forms, but that does not mean the machinery has ceased to exist - it is still there, and was used, and will still be used, when those in power deem it necessary.
July 3, 2021
Writing a book about the history and influence of the European inquisitions should not be terribly difficult. There is an enormous mountain of information to be gleaned from these horrific eras of history when you could easily be burned alive for having the wrong conversation with the wrong person. Somehow or another, Jonathan Kirsch fucked it up. This is one of the most repetitious and argumentatively flawed books that I have read in quite some time. Kirsch spoke frequently about the torture and procedures for getting convicted "heretics" to talk, but I feel he should have included the reader as a part of this group.
"The Grand Inquisitor's Manuel" is an attempt to examine three key inquisitions, according to Kirsch, that influenced modern witch hunts, genocides, and suppression of free thought. These three inquisitions include the Albigensian Crusade, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Protestant Inquisition. To say that Kirsch was reaching when he deliberates on his thesis is to make an understatement of the rack's function as a tool of torture and cruelty. There are severe logical jumps that Kirsch is required to make when he claims that the Spanish Inquisition, for example, influenced the methods of the Third Reich in deposing of its Jewish victims. Kirsch goes on to mistakenly attribute the inquisitions as a large influence on other modern events like the Soviet Union's Great Purge, the United States communist witch hunt in the 1950s, and the unsubstantial comparison between the inquisitions and America's War on Terror. All of these assertions fail to convince you of their credibility.
In all fairness, there are short portions of this book that are quite interesting and informative, especially if you are very new to the history of the inquisitions. The "degrees" of torture, the various horror stories from innocent victims, the beliefs of the Cathars, and the grand spectacle of auto-de-fe were engrossing as well as demoralizing. It astounds the modern reader when they have to read of such atrocities committed for the most inane and irrational reasons. That astonishment, however, soon turns to aggravation when a large portion of this book becomes inextricably tied to reminding you of how horrible the inquisitions were. Over and over and over again. I will recognize you as an admirable soldier if you can overcome the first one hundred pages of this book's tediousness.
The lackluster grading of this piss-poor attempt at non-fiction leaves me disappointed and the slightest bit angry. I wanted to love this book. I will never decline a book that provides substantial proof of the wicked history that Christianity and its delusional medieval followers created for the descendants of its crimes, but I would be better off refusing if the author ever happens to be Jonathan Kirsch. He is in desperate need of an editor, one who will cut away the fat from this nearly undigestible book. I'm assuming there are far more substantial books to read about the inquisition than this one, and I would recommend that you seek those out. I'd recommend leaving this book in the dungeons to rot.
"The Grand Inquisitor's Manuel" is an attempt to examine three key inquisitions, according to Kirsch, that influenced modern witch hunts, genocides, and suppression of free thought. These three inquisitions include the Albigensian Crusade, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Protestant Inquisition. To say that Kirsch was reaching when he deliberates on his thesis is to make an understatement of the rack's function as a tool of torture and cruelty. There are severe logical jumps that Kirsch is required to make when he claims that the Spanish Inquisition, for example, influenced the methods of the Third Reich in deposing of its Jewish victims. Kirsch goes on to mistakenly attribute the inquisitions as a large influence on other modern events like the Soviet Union's Great Purge, the United States communist witch hunt in the 1950s, and the unsubstantial comparison between the inquisitions and America's War on Terror. All of these assertions fail to convince you of their credibility.
In all fairness, there are short portions of this book that are quite interesting and informative, especially if you are very new to the history of the inquisitions. The "degrees" of torture, the various horror stories from innocent victims, the beliefs of the Cathars, and the grand spectacle of auto-de-fe were engrossing as well as demoralizing. It astounds the modern reader when they have to read of such atrocities committed for the most inane and irrational reasons. That astonishment, however, soon turns to aggravation when a large portion of this book becomes inextricably tied to reminding you of how horrible the inquisitions were. Over and over and over again. I will recognize you as an admirable soldier if you can overcome the first one hundred pages of this book's tediousness.
The lackluster grading of this piss-poor attempt at non-fiction leaves me disappointed and the slightest bit angry. I wanted to love this book. I will never decline a book that provides substantial proof of the wicked history that Christianity and its delusional medieval followers created for the descendants of its crimes, but I would be better off refusing if the author ever happens to be Jonathan Kirsch. He is in desperate need of an editor, one who will cut away the fat from this nearly undigestible book. I'm assuming there are far more substantial books to read about the inquisition than this one, and I would recommend that you seek those out. I'd recommend leaving this book in the dungeons to rot.
April 7, 2024
This is a thought provoking book. I learned from this book. The Inquisition was more than just the Spanish Inquisition that I learned about in History class. The author breaks it down into 3 distinct phases. I appreciate that the author didn't try to sensationalize the things done to the prisoners to extract confessions and to get them to name names. The author points out that many people used the inquisition for many different purposes. It wasn't just a religious crusade--there were cultural, economic, political, even personal reasons why people were turned in to the inquisitors. And for nearly all those turned in to the inquisitors, they were damned if they did and damned if they didn't. It was a no win situation. I grieve for all the innocent men, women, and children who were harmed and killed. It is chilling what justifications and rationalizations that people will use to justify heinous acts. The chapters on how the techniques of the inquisition are still in use today was both educational and disturbing. I would have given this book 5 stars but the author tended to use a lot of phrases that were unnecessary and didn't improve the flow of the book; for example, as we shall see in future chapters. I do recommend this book.
June 19, 2022
My ratings of books on Goodreads are solely a crude ranking of their utility to me, and not an evaluation of literary merit, entertainment value, social importance, humor, insightfulness, scientific accuracy, creative vigor, suspensefulness of plot, depth of characters, vitality of theme, excitement of climax, satisfaction of ending, or any other combination of dimensions of value which we are expected to boil down through some fabulous alchemy into a single digit.
April 18, 2018
This was one of the most repetitive non-fiction books I have ever read. There were sections I actually thought I had read already, like I had accidentally scrolled back in my iPad but no, it was just that repetitive. The Inquisition is fascinating and there was very interesting information but I think this book could have been half the length and contained everything succinctly.
March 11, 2019
The Inquisition, a Primer
If the subject of the Inquisition is at all unfamiliar, this is a great place to start. The author presents a very concise and easy to follow framework of this terrible multi-century scourge on mankind. Recommended.
If the subject of the Inquisition is at all unfamiliar, this is a great place to start. The author presents a very concise and easy to follow framework of this terrible multi-century scourge on mankind. Recommended.
April 16, 2018
Not worth reading
I made a mistake in buying this book - it is not worth reading. I barely managed to survive until about half of the book and then I tossed it.
I made a mistake in buying this book - it is not worth reading. I barely managed to survive until about half of the book and then I tossed it.
August 11, 2018
Terrifying. The Inquisition lurks in history. It can happen again.
January 13, 2025
Exactly what I would want to read up on just before taking up witch hunting and heretic burning. An excellent read
October 23, 2016
Good, Conversational Read...with a Rocky Last Two Chapters
Based on the title (and especially the subtitle: "A History of Terror in the Name of God"), I looked forward to an entertaining and enlightening read about the Inquisition. As I knew only the basics of that period in history, Kirsch educated me when he named the three phases (medieval Inquisition, Spanish Inquisition, and Roman Inquisition). He explained each, including reasons why each happened and what factors helped to sustain and eventually end each Inquisition.
The overall storytelling is fairly conversational. If one is looking for a scholarly treatise on this subject, Kirsch's book is not for you. However, if you merely wish to learn more about the who/what/why of the Inquistion Period, you will probably find this book interesting.
If the author would have stopped after the first six chapters, I probably would have awarded the book five stars, as I felt it lived up to its title. However, for some reason the author began to list other events in world history, and then tried -- mostly unsuccessfully -- to tie them to the Inquisitions, as if the six centuries of terror in God's name had morphed into something new but still was essentially tied to what had happened in Europe ages ago. While one cannot argue with the atrocities of Hitler and Stalin, neither committed them under God's banner and both had their own agendas as to why they did what they did. The attempts to convince the reader God was behind their decisions were weak and baseless.
While the Salem Witch Trials resembled the Inquisitions in some ways, the fifteen months were more of a blip on the history timeline. While I understand where the author may have wanted to go with discussions of the McCarthy Era and post-9/11, the resulting "hysteria" (author's word) did not occur in the name of God. Basically, if Mr. Kirsch wanted to discuss all these issues and tie them all neatly in one Inquisitional package, it would have been less awkward to present these ideas in a second book. What was bothersome was that the reader was forced to read many "coming attractions," as the author continually placed references to these last two chapters throughout the entire book.
So overall, first six chapters an easy, entertaining read on the Inquisitions and worth your time and money. If you read the last two chapters and like them, that would be a bonus...if you don't like chapters seven and eight, at least you knew they were there before you purchased the book.
Based on the title (and especially the subtitle: "A History of Terror in the Name of God"), I looked forward to an entertaining and enlightening read about the Inquisition. As I knew only the basics of that period in history, Kirsch educated me when he named the three phases (medieval Inquisition, Spanish Inquisition, and Roman Inquisition). He explained each, including reasons why each happened and what factors helped to sustain and eventually end each Inquisition.
The overall storytelling is fairly conversational. If one is looking for a scholarly treatise on this subject, Kirsch's book is not for you. However, if you merely wish to learn more about the who/what/why of the Inquistion Period, you will probably find this book interesting.
If the author would have stopped after the first six chapters, I probably would have awarded the book five stars, as I felt it lived up to its title. However, for some reason the author began to list other events in world history, and then tried -- mostly unsuccessfully -- to tie them to the Inquisitions, as if the six centuries of terror in God's name had morphed into something new but still was essentially tied to what had happened in Europe ages ago. While one cannot argue with the atrocities of Hitler and Stalin, neither committed them under God's banner and both had their own agendas as to why they did what they did. The attempts to convince the reader God was behind their decisions were weak and baseless.
While the Salem Witch Trials resembled the Inquisitions in some ways, the fifteen months were more of a blip on the history timeline. While I understand where the author may have wanted to go with discussions of the McCarthy Era and post-9/11, the resulting "hysteria" (author's word) did not occur in the name of God. Basically, if Mr. Kirsch wanted to discuss all these issues and tie them all neatly in one Inquisitional package, it would have been less awkward to present these ideas in a second book. What was bothersome was that the reader was forced to read many "coming attractions," as the author continually placed references to these last two chapters throughout the entire book.
So overall, first six chapters an easy, entertaining read on the Inquisitions and worth your time and money. If you read the last two chapters and like them, that would be a bonus...if you don't like chapters seven and eight, at least you knew they were there before you purchased the book.
January 21, 2011
The Inquisition of the Middle Ages, the Spanish Inquisition and the Roman Inquisition provided for centuries of terror, torture and well documented strategies in annihilating mostly innocent people for heresy. While the original objective of the Inquisition was the Roman Catholic Church's fear of losing control over the thoughts and beliefs of Christians, the inquisitors, the Church and later, the kings of Spain and France, turned it into a strategy in profiteering and later, genocide.
Cloaking themselves with a language that played down what they were actually doing to the victims, the Inquisition laid the path for modern inquisitions such as the Nazi regime, the Soviet Gulag, the witch trials, the Japanese American internment, the McCarthy anti-Communist hunt and the American military proceedings in Abu Ghraib.
It's horrifyingly interesting to read how the Inquisition made heretics wear large fabric crosses on their garments to humiliate them, even if they had been released from trial, and that this practice was used by Hitler with the Jews in WWII. The practice of getting neighbors, friends, and relatives to spy on and denounce each other, and the purpose of a trial to get victims to name others were used also by the Nazis and McCarthy's committee. Even the Inquisition's practice of spreading imagined depravities against the targeted victims continues to be used today to build disgust and fear against them.
Even the tools of the Inquisition have not been destroyed or left to gather dust in some dark museum. Some of them have been used through the centuries and some, such as the water torture, now renamed waterboarding, and the humiliating dunces cap, are being used today.
It was appalling to see how easily it's been to press the panic button in people, and once pressed, how very quickly it can be to spread fear, distrust and the belief that inhumane treatment of those we fear is acceptable, because they are now seen as being less than human. Once the panic button is pressed, how ready are we to relinquish common sense, embrace the flimsiest of excuses to legalize the torture and incarceration of our imagined enemies.
Covering some very distasteful details of mainly the Inquisitions' strategies and practices, this is, however, a really good documentation of man's need to control that which he fears. It certainly made me realize that not only does history repeat itself, but that there are some who will actually try to justify evil actions.
Cloaking themselves with a language that played down what they were actually doing to the victims, the Inquisition laid the path for modern inquisitions such as the Nazi regime, the Soviet Gulag, the witch trials, the Japanese American internment, the McCarthy anti-Communist hunt and the American military proceedings in Abu Ghraib.
It's horrifyingly interesting to read how the Inquisition made heretics wear large fabric crosses on their garments to humiliate them, even if they had been released from trial, and that this practice was used by Hitler with the Jews in WWII. The practice of getting neighbors, friends, and relatives to spy on and denounce each other, and the purpose of a trial to get victims to name others were used also by the Nazis and McCarthy's committee. Even the Inquisition's practice of spreading imagined depravities against the targeted victims continues to be used today to build disgust and fear against them.
Even the tools of the Inquisition have not been destroyed or left to gather dust in some dark museum. Some of them have been used through the centuries and some, such as the water torture, now renamed waterboarding, and the humiliating dunces cap, are being used today.
It was appalling to see how easily it's been to press the panic button in people, and once pressed, how very quickly it can be to spread fear, distrust and the belief that inhumane treatment of those we fear is acceptable, because they are now seen as being less than human. Once the panic button is pressed, how ready are we to relinquish common sense, embrace the flimsiest of excuses to legalize the torture and incarceration of our imagined enemies.
Covering some very distasteful details of mainly the Inquisitions' strategies and practices, this is, however, a really good documentation of man's need to control that which he fears. It certainly made me realize that not only does history repeat itself, but that there are some who will actually try to justify evil actions.
July 30, 2015
The Grand Inquisitor's Manual takes us from the inception of the Inquisition in the 12th century to it's end in the mid 19th century, and ends with a look forward to events that seem to have their roots in the Inquisition, like the holocaust.
It was very interesting to read about, I haven't really looked into the Inquisition before, so there was a lot of new information for me. The book is an easy read and seems to get around to the importent parts (though I don't know for sure since I don't know much about it).
I did however have a couple of issues with it.
a) to me it seemed like the the book only consisted of an introduction and an epilogue. I think this is because Jonathan Kirsch was trying to be to many places at once. To tell what happened and perspectivate to what late happened at the same time. This didn't work.
b) I also ended up getting very annoyed with many of Jonathan Kirsch's fraces as he tended to use the same ones over and over again. Here I could mention Kafkaesque, as we have seen and as we shall see. Especially the two latter ones drove me completely insane by the end, to say that Jonathan Kirsch uses them a lot would be an understatement.
c) Jonathan had a tendancy to let other historians draw the conclusions for him. This would be fine if it didn't happen all the time and if the conclusions weren't that simple. It got very silly at times, often we would be given some information and then Jonathan had a quote from an other historian's book tell what this ment, this was made worse by the fact that often I could have drawn the conclusion myself. The historian Jonathan used to the most was Henry Charles Lea, and I have to say that at times I felt like I might as well just put this book aside and read something by him instead.
d) the last thing I wanted to mention was that when refering to historians who felt differently than himself about something regarding the Inquisition, Jonathan would immediately brand them as defenders of what happened. This I found very tasteless and uncalled for.
All in all there were many things that bothered me about the book. I would have given it 2,5 stars if I could, but since I can't I decided to round up because it was an interesting, quick, easy read and I felt I got a good introduction to the subject.
I don't really know with regards to who I would recomend it to though. Maybe as an introduction it works but I did feel like I would like some other oppinions to compare with.
It was very interesting to read about, I haven't really looked into the Inquisition before, so there was a lot of new information for me. The book is an easy read and seems to get around to the importent parts (though I don't know for sure since I don't know much about it).
I did however have a couple of issues with it.
a) to me it seemed like the the book only consisted of an introduction and an epilogue. I think this is because Jonathan Kirsch was trying to be to many places at once. To tell what happened and perspectivate to what late happened at the same time. This didn't work.
b) I also ended up getting very annoyed with many of Jonathan Kirsch's fraces as he tended to use the same ones over and over again. Here I could mention Kafkaesque, as we have seen and as we shall see. Especially the two latter ones drove me completely insane by the end, to say that Jonathan Kirsch uses them a lot would be an understatement.
c) Jonathan had a tendancy to let other historians draw the conclusions for him. This would be fine if it didn't happen all the time and if the conclusions weren't that simple. It got very silly at times, often we would be given some information and then Jonathan had a quote from an other historian's book tell what this ment, this was made worse by the fact that often I could have drawn the conclusion myself. The historian Jonathan used to the most was Henry Charles Lea, and I have to say that at times I felt like I might as well just put this book aside and read something by him instead.
d) the last thing I wanted to mention was that when refering to historians who felt differently than himself about something regarding the Inquisition, Jonathan would immediately brand them as defenders of what happened. This I found very tasteless and uncalled for.
All in all there were many things that bothered me about the book. I would have given it 2,5 stars if I could, but since I can't I decided to round up because it was an interesting, quick, easy read and I felt I got a good introduction to the subject.
I don't really know with regards to who I would recomend it to though. Maybe as an introduction it works but I did feel like I would like some other oppinions to compare with.
Read
September 26, 2013 Christendom seemed to have grown delirious and Satan might well smile at the tribute to his power in the endless smoke of the holocaust which bore witness to the triumph of the Almighty.
A History of The Inquisition of The Middle Ages; volume I , by Henry Charles Lea.
Jonathan Kirsch uses this quote to begin his The Grand Inquisitor's Manual: A History of Terror in the Name of God , in which he outlines the history of terror practiced in the West as perceived threats to an ordered society, one in thought and organization, began to rear their shadowy heads.
The Bogomils of Bulgaria, the Cathars of France, the Fraticelli of Italy, the Jews of Europe, the Muslims of Spain - all thorns in the side of the established order of both church and state. Some of these, Kirsch argues, have remained thorns into the so-called modern era. The Nazi regime of Germany used much of the same language - even some of the same tools - against its Jewish population, but with a much more efficient means of final annihilation. The events of 9/11, he fears, have awakened all-too-familiar responses to what many people view as attacks on our "way of life." "Extraordinary rendition," "harsh interrogation techniques," Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay.
Like the victims of the Inquisition, the defendants are not even entitled to be told what crimes they are accused of committing or what evidence the government has relied upon in arresting and holding them.
Demonization always raises the demonized to a status that too often supersedes the values of the culture which it is perceived to threaten. And so we are being encouraged to give up some cherished civil liberties, to understand the need to suspect and imprison, to see certain of our neighbors through the slitted eyes of distrust.
The Grand Inquisitor's Manual is not only a lesson in history. It's also a cautionary tale for our time.
A History of The Inquisition of The Middle Ages; volume I , by Henry Charles Lea.
Jonathan Kirsch uses this quote to begin his The Grand Inquisitor's Manual: A History of Terror in the Name of God , in which he outlines the history of terror practiced in the West as perceived threats to an ordered society, one in thought and organization, began to rear their shadowy heads.
The Bogomils of Bulgaria, the Cathars of France, the Fraticelli of Italy, the Jews of Europe, the Muslims of Spain - all thorns in the side of the established order of both church and state. Some of these, Kirsch argues, have remained thorns into the so-called modern era. The Nazi regime of Germany used much of the same language - even some of the same tools - against its Jewish population, but with a much more efficient means of final annihilation. The events of 9/11, he fears, have awakened all-too-familiar responses to what many people view as attacks on our "way of life." "Extraordinary rendition," "harsh interrogation techniques," Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay.
Like the victims of the Inquisition, the defendants are not even entitled to be told what crimes they are accused of committing or what evidence the government has relied upon in arresting and holding them.
Demonization always raises the demonized to a status that too often supersedes the values of the culture which it is perceived to threaten. And so we are being encouraged to give up some cherished civil liberties, to understand the need to suspect and imprison, to see certain of our neighbors through the slitted eyes of distrust.
The Grand Inquisitor's Manual is not only a lesson in history. It's also a cautionary tale for our time.
March 13, 2010
While this book should have been interesting, and may contain some good information, its disorganization and repetitiveness completely overshadow its good qualities. I was about halfway through the book before I started feeling like I was no longer reading the introduction. The author is not a historian, and does not make any attempt to treat information with objectivity, and in the later part of the book, he freely admits to this. Throughout the book, the author quotes his few favored sources ad nauseam, and routinely criticizes any historians who do not share his point of view as "defenders" and "apologists" for the Inquisition. There are clues early on that the book is intended to be a vehicle for his own political views, and this becomes truly apparent in the last chapters. The subtitle "Terror In the Name of God" is misleading, since the latter part of the book degenerates into tales of purely cultural and political persecution. The author's research seems very superficial and his conclusions very simplistic. At the end of the book, I felt that I had read no information that could not be gleaned from a school history textbook or from Wikipedia. To top it all off, I feel like I should have kept a tally of how many times Kirsch used the adjective "Kafkaesque," or began a sentence with the incorrect usage of "ironically." At this point, I would be content to never see either of those words again. A thoroughly underwhelming read.
October 28, 2014
The best part of this book is the first few chapters, which describes the Inquisition before the Spanish Inquisition (mostly from the 1200s to the 1400s, and mostly in western Europe, especially France). The book explains the sheer randomness of Inquisition terror- the Inquisition could haul you in on an anonymous tip or its own suspicion or greed (since it could confiscate your property), and then torture you until you confessed to heresy and then named a few other heretics as well. The Spanish Inquisition was quite similar; the only difference of significance was that it was directed primarily against conversos (former Jews and Muslims who had became Catholics and were feared to have relapsed to their old religion). The book's discussion of the Spanish Inquisition told me nothing I didn't already know, but a less knowledgeable reader could perhaps benefit from it.
At the end, the book tails off, trying to compare the Inquisition to everything from Nazism to McCarthyism; since any violation of civil liberties has something in common with the Inquisition, these sort of comparisons prove nothing. Ironically, the author completely overlooks some of the most analogous 20th century, such as Maoism and the Khmer Rouge. While Nazis persecuted based on race, amd other regimes zeroed in on political enemies, these regimes were, like the Inquisition, essentially random.
At the end, the book tails off, trying to compare the Inquisition to everything from Nazism to McCarthyism; since any violation of civil liberties has something in common with the Inquisition, these sort of comparisons prove nothing. Ironically, the author completely overlooks some of the most analogous 20th century, such as Maoism and the Khmer Rouge. While Nazis persecuted based on race, amd other regimes zeroed in on political enemies, these regimes were, like the Inquisition, essentially random.
July 3, 2014
People who believe "right and wrong" are divided along political lines (read: Most Americans) will become slightly uncomfortable with this book as it progresses. Yes, it is primarily about the various inquisitions that swept across across Europe but it is also a cautionary morality tale.
Those who don't learn from history are destined to repeat it and Kirsch reveals how the Inquisitor's manual was one deftly dusted off and repackaged when necessary. Whether by "relocating" Jews to death camps, interning Japanese American citizens, disempowering the "wreckers", or kidnapping Muslims for "enhanced interrogation" the beating drum of paranoia and panic can force the sanest men to shut their eyes to injustice and genocide.
At times Kirsch's treatment of the subject seems heavy handed. Sprinkled in with the cases of men, women, and children burned and tortured for thought-crimes against the church, glimpses of Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, and the American 'Red Scare' peek out to remind us of just how far we haven't come.
It's a sobering reminder that we are often our own worst enemies and the human willingness to murder on a mass scale hasn't changed despite enlightenment, reason, compassion, or faith.
Those who don't learn from history are destined to repeat it and Kirsch reveals how the Inquisitor's manual was one deftly dusted off and repackaged when necessary. Whether by "relocating" Jews to death camps, interning Japanese American citizens, disempowering the "wreckers", or kidnapping Muslims for "enhanced interrogation" the beating drum of paranoia and panic can force the sanest men to shut their eyes to injustice and genocide.
At times Kirsch's treatment of the subject seems heavy handed. Sprinkled in with the cases of men, women, and children burned and tortured for thought-crimes against the church, glimpses of Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, and the American 'Red Scare' peek out to remind us of just how far we haven't come.
It's a sobering reminder that we are often our own worst enemies and the human willingness to murder on a mass scale hasn't changed despite enlightenment, reason, compassion, or faith.
November 3, 2010
Horrifying & detailed look into the history of the Inquisition (in the variety of forms that it took over time) - but I couldn't shake the feeling that the author really, really wanted to use this historical account as a platform to pontificate on current American policy.
The weakest part of the book is the closing section - while he does an excellent job of establishing the connections of the Inquisition bureaucracy to Nazi Germany & the Soviet Union under Stalin, his attempts to parallel these horrors to the internment of Japanese-Americans and the HUAC hearings falls flat. (Please don't get me wrong - the interment camps were a racist fear response & McCarthyism was a cancer on our society - but that's not the same as systematically murdering millions of people.)
Interestingly, he leaves out two historical bureaucracies that might provide better parallels - Communist China under Mao (the Cultural Revolution, etc.) and U.S. policies/treaties & resettlements with the Indian nations/tribes.
The weakest part of the book is the closing section - while he does an excellent job of establishing the connections of the Inquisition bureaucracy to Nazi Germany & the Soviet Union under Stalin, his attempts to parallel these horrors to the internment of Japanese-Americans and the HUAC hearings falls flat. (Please don't get me wrong - the interment camps were a racist fear response & McCarthyism was a cancer on our society - but that's not the same as systematically murdering millions of people.)
Interestingly, he leaves out two historical bureaucracies that might provide better parallels - Communist China under Mao (the Cultural Revolution, etc.) and U.S. policies/treaties & resettlements with the Indian nations/tribes.
March 12, 2012
I didn’t know anything about the Inquisition before I read Jonathan Kirsch’s satisfying book; now I know enough to contextualize my lecture about medieval anti-Semitism. I learned about the Cathars, a rigorous and ascetic Christian heretical movement that was exterminated by a crusade and the medieval Inquisition. Set up to deal with heresy, the Inquisition established the template for totalitarian legal regimes: torture, confession, state security police, naming names, wild conspiracies, thought-criminals, public burnings of books and heretics. The inquisition’s reliance on secret evidence, confessions and torture leads to one heart-breaking and Kafkaesque story after another. The Spanish Inquisition, established to root out backsliding converted-Jews, also becomes the origins of the idea of “race” and “purity of blood” as the atavistic practices of converts are blamed on their blood. Of course, Kirsch ties in the Salem witch trials, totalitarianism, McCarthyism and the War on Terror.
June 3, 2012
My daughter is doing George Orwell's '1984' in high school, but reading Jonathan Kirsch's The Grand Inquisitor's Manual made me realize that the kind of society portrayed in '1984' is not necessarily a future dystopia, but it has already happened in reign of terror that lasted 600 years. This is a sordid, sordid history of the three inquisitions (medieval, Roman and Spanish) when Holy Mother Church ruled with an iron fist. People were prosecuted for thought-crimes, i.e. if what they believed did not fit with orthodox church doctrine. You were encouraged to report on your neighbor if anything untoward was observed, and numerous ingenious methods of torture were devised to get the accused to not only confess, but also name the names of others.
Later in the book, Kirsch goes into how different aspects of techniques and practices which originated in the inquisitions inspired, and continued to be used in, the Salem Witch Trials, Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, the Mccarthy era, and even in today's "War on Terror."
Later in the book, Kirsch goes into how different aspects of techniques and practices which originated in the inquisitions inspired, and continued to be used in, the Salem Witch Trials, Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, the Mccarthy era, and even in today's "War on Terror."
February 25, 2010
Enlightening.
Although I sometimes felt as if the author had a definite agenda (to prove Inquisition apologists wrong,) I feel compelled to believe in his agenda as fact, and therefore greatly enjoyed the work. The persecution of anyone of differing beliefs (and many who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time) has led to the time-honored techniques of mass hysteria = witch hunt = innocent lives being lost.
One of my own ancestors was Samuel Wardwell, a good Christian, hung as a witch during the Salem Witch Trials, and that travesty affected that branch of the family for generations. We must always be vigilant to remain fair and rational, and not become overpowered by panic and hysteria, lest we repeat these incidents, as Stalinist Russia and Nazi Germany did not so many years ago.
Although I sometimes felt as if the author had a definite agenda (to prove Inquisition apologists wrong,) I feel compelled to believe in his agenda as fact, and therefore greatly enjoyed the work. The persecution of anyone of differing beliefs (and many who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time) has led to the time-honored techniques of mass hysteria = witch hunt = innocent lives being lost.
One of my own ancestors was Samuel Wardwell, a good Christian, hung as a witch during the Salem Witch Trials, and that travesty affected that branch of the family for generations. We must always be vigilant to remain fair and rational, and not become overpowered by panic and hysteria, lest we repeat these incidents, as Stalinist Russia and Nazi Germany did not so many years ago.
June 22, 2009
I'm not entirely sure this is much more than snuff porn, and given that suspicion, I'm not sure what it says about me that I've read my copy twice. (In my defense I was quite bored the second time I picked it up and didn't have a library card yet.) It does give a bit of insight into how the Inquisitions (Medieval, Roman and Spanish) prefigured torture as used by governments in the 20th and 21st centuries (waterboarding was called "water treatment" in the 13th century). More interesting to me is how the practice of "naming names," in which the victim who confessed to heresy would not be let off until he or she accused enough friends and relatives of further heresies. It was just the same during the Stalinist purges and the Red Scares in the U.S.
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