The Rise Of Individualism
THE RISE OF INDIVIDUALISM
As we have seen, the Renaissance can be thought of as the immensely creative and dynamic period in European culture that had its origins in fourteenth-century Italy. Certain historians, most notably Jakob Burckhardt (1818–97), argued that the Renaissance gave birth to the modern era, in that it was in this era that human beings first began to think of themselves as individuals. In the early Middle Ages, people had been happy to see themselves simply as parts of a greater whole—for example, as members of a great family, trade guild, nation, or Church. This communal consciousness of the Middle Ages gradually gave way to the individual consciousness of the Renaissance. Florence became the new Athens, the intellectual capital of a brave new world of individuals, each in control of his destiny. Burckhardt's definition of the Renaissance in purely individualist terms can be challenged at several points. But in one sense, Burckhardt is unquestionably correct: something novel and exciting developed in Renaissance Italy that proved capable of exercising a fascination over generations of thinkers.
The new social mobility of the late Middle Ages meant that these new ideas were not going to be limited to Italy. Scholars and merchants, traveling to Italy on business in the early fifteenth century, brought the new ideas of the Renaissance home with them. Italy rapidly became a cultural icon of sophistication—many of Shakespeare's plays are set in Italian cities for precisely this reason. The new emphasis on the individual affected just about every aspect of European culture.
The new merchant class was impatient with what it saw as the conservatism of the old order. Old-fashioned attitudes were getting in the way of economic development. Power was still largely held by the old aristocratic families, who had managed their estates in the same ways for centuries. The medieval Church was also seen to be part of this traditional social order, with a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. All of this was called into question by the new social mobility and “can-do” attitude of the rising merchant class. Individuals should be free to change things. Power should rest on achievement, not family connections. Wealth should be actively created through trade, not passed down passively from one generation to another.
For the purposes of this story, the most important change was religious. Christians became dissatisfied with approaches to their faith that stressed its external aspects—such as just attending church. They demanded a form of Christianity that was relevant to their personal experience and private worlds. They didn't want just to be told what the Bible said—they wanted to own and read it for themselves. Religion was about personally appropriating the Christian faith, and making it a living reality in the experience of the individual lay person. A new confidence surged within the ranks of the laity. Why should the clergy have such power and influence, when the laity were now just as well educated as the former?
A hunger for reform that saturated the air of Europe in the first decade of the sixteenth century is well illustrated by one book—the Handbook of the Christian Soldier, published in 1503 by Erasmus of Rotterdam. The work was a demand for reform—but it was more than that. It set out a compelling vision of the church of the future, in which the laity would play their full role, wresting power and influence from the discredited clergy. Even the most humble plowman would read his New Testament as he worked the fields. It was a vision that combined the Romanticism of the English pastoral literature of the late sixteenth century, and the hard-nosed realism of Europe's most powerful advocate of personal and institutional reform. Erasmus did not want to eliminate the clergy, who, he insisted, had a continuing role to play as the educators of the laity. But the prestige, power, and wealth that many of them had once enjoyed would be a thing of the past. The laity had come of age; the future belonged to them. And knowledge of the Bible was the key to this vision for the future.
Erasmus's work became a best-seller. If anyone needs confirmation of either the growing power of the printing press at this stage in European history, or the appeal of the ideas that Erasmus developed, they need only look at the printing history of this book. By 1515, it had achieved cult status. Originally published in Latin, it was soon translated into the most influential living European languages. The work both reflected and intensified the hunger for change. It was only a matter of time before radical change took place.
Portrait of Erasmus of Rotterdam by Quentin Metsys (c. 1465/6–1530) of the Antwerp School
In the first two decades of the sixteenth century, Western Europe was like a dry tinderbox. It was merely awaiting a spark before it burst into flame. But what sort of spark might ignite this explosion? In later years, European revolutions would generally be triggered by political events—such as the assassination of the Austrian archduke Francis Ferdinand in 1914, which was the immediate cause of the First World War. Yet, if the great tumult of the sixteenth century was set off by one person or event, it is widely agreed that the event in question was Martin Luther's famous posting of the Ninety-Five Theses against indulgences of October 31, 1517.