One of the greatest minds of the last century, Algeria-born French existentialist and Nobel laureate Albert Camus is known for his existential views and also for his atheism. It’s worthwhile to mention that he refused to have a Christian burial and wished that his whole body should be donated to the medical college for research purposes. And when he died in a car accident in 1960 at the age of 47, his daughter carried out her legendary father’s wishes. January 4 is Albert Camus’ death anniversary.
Contrary to the general tenor that he was an avowed atheist who made fun of god, religion and rituals, Camus’ atheism was the gentle and intellectual atheism of the East or precisely of Buddha and Mahavir. It was existential atheism that didn’t thrive on abusing theism. It was in sharp contrast to the provocative brand of atheism of Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris, with militancy in its core. Camus believed that whether it’s theism or atheism, there’s a doctrinal ossification of ideas. If theists are adamant, atheists are also obstinate; because both belong to isms and an ism, however lofty it may seem or sound, is a specialised prejudice. It hardens the possessor. Moreover, atheists are of the opinion that they’re intellectually streets ahead of theists, forgetting the fact that they’re also propagating a belief system they think to be the most rational. Alas, both are mistaken.
Camus appears to have come to his atheism both because there is no evidence for a god, and also because of the problem of evil. His biographer Herbert Lottman reports that in his youth, Camus and his friend Max-Pol Fouchet came across a child who had been killed when struck by a bus. The child’s family wept in horror.
Walking away, Camus turned toward the landscape of blue sea and sky. Raising a finger toward the heavens he said, “You see. He says nothing.” Fouchet was certain that Camus had no fundamental objection to religion, although he found the situation of man in the face of suffering and death, alone in the silence from the sky, unbearable.
This is reminiscent of the climactic scene in Camus’ novel The Plague in which a young child suffers an agonising death while the protagonist, Doctor Rieux, strives without effect to save him. After his failure, Rieux confronts a priest who had claimed the plague was a punishment for the sins of the town’s citizens, saying, “That child, anyhow, was innocent, and you know it as well as I do.” But unlike Jean-Paul Sartre, who argued that the concept of God was contradictory, Camus nowhere attempts to prove, or to convince others, of the inexistence of god. This is what we call logical (even benevolent!) atheism. Camus didn’t get into futile debates of god’s existence or nonexistence and faith’s utility or non-utility. In other words, his atheism was not speculative atheism of an argumentative individual. It was existential atheism, which believed that esoteric beliefs were of no use in the scheme of human existence.
In a civilised society, every person has his/her alienable right to profess and practise his/her religious belief system. We can’t be judgmental as to pass a verdict on another person’s religion and rituals. That’s uncalled for. Respecting others’ beliefs even if one finds them tangential to his ideas is a sign of mental evolution. In a lecture at Sorbonne University, Paris, Camus opined that, “Disturbing the status quo is akin to playing with fire. But, if you’re hellbent upon playing with fire, rest assured, you’ll be burnt and burnt badly.”
Camus was against all doctrines and isms. In fact, he was even against Existentialism. His philosophy was a philosophy of pragmatism and purpose. His atheism was based on the premise of: What I don’t experience, I don’t explain. He would often say, “Assertion of any kind is a perversion.” So, he never asserted that his belief was the only belief. Mankind is badly in need of imbibing this exalted and liberal spirit from Camus’ atheistic existentialism.
Peaceful co-existence of faith and unfaith is a must for the survival of mankind which is at the moment placed on a precipice. Lastly, I remember while conversing with Albert Camus’ staunch follower, the redoubtable French linguist, grammarian and the Father of Deconstruction Jacques Derrida at the Sorbonne University, Paris. I asked him what his take on atheism was. He was a complete non-believer. He said, “I’m an apatheist, I’ve gone beyond theism and atheism.” By the way, Robert Nash, theology professor at Mercer University, coined this term in 2001. Yours truly has no faith in any man-made organised religion and a concocted god despite being a research student of Comparative Religions. He calls himself an apatheist and doesn’t get into arguments with either theists or atheists. It’s futile and leads us nowhere.
Sumit Paul is a regular contributor to the world’s premier publications and portals in several languages
