Felix Qui Potuit Rerum Cognoscere Causas. Happy is he who penetrates the secret nature of things.
I, Jeroen van Aken, also known as Hieronymus Bosch, painter by trade, hereby affirm on my honor, that the account that follows is factual and that the views it expresses are mine, offered therein unhindered by outside influence or coercion, and penned in the twilight days of my life to remove any doubt that might arise after my death as to my convictions, penchants and the meaning and aim of my humble harvest.
I am indebted to heredity, most especially to my grandfather Jan and my father Anthonius for what my peers generously regard as a skill. It is to the human condition, filled with naïve aspirations and irresistible cravings, hopeless dreams and inevitable nightmares, poetry and vulgarity, gallantry and cowardice, innocence and wickedness, compassion and evil, and to the ravages of time that I owe my inspiration. The Reformation, counter-Reformation and the Inquisition have perforce also educed heretofore pent-up emotional responses against the rigid credos and strict religious doctrines used to manipulate the mind and ensnare the soul.
Naturally inclined to favor men in the pursuit of carnal pleasure, I married a fine woman whose character and reputation ensured mine against unwelcome scrutiny and spiteful tongues. She gave me a son and a daughter who, brimming with filial love, showed, like their mother, neither a passion for art, an appetite for independent reasoning or a lust for knowledge. Time will swallow them in its dark abyss but perhaps one of their descendants will awaken, blessed with curiosity and imagination, and dedicated to the dissemination of truth.
Although temperamentally reclusive, it is my sensuality and partialities that have caused me to seek the company of men and to join the Brotherhood of Notre Dame. It is there that I met open-minded fellows who, like me, found in it a forum in which the rational exploration of unorthodox concepts could openly take place without arousing the suspicion of our spiritual overseers and subjecting us to their murderous wrath. Some of my companions, given to uninhibited erotic pursuits, formed a secret guild, instituting our own rituals, emblems and modes of recognition. We called ourselves Adamites in mock commemoration of man’s “original” innocence and to recreate what must surely have been a time of orgiastic abandon in heaven and on earth.
One of my triptychs memorializes this shame-free epoch. The bawdy scene in the center panel does not censure -- as many believe -- unrestrained sensual pleasure. On the contrary, it extols earthly delights that are publicly denounced by keepers of morality who luxuriate in them when no one looks. The left panel satirizes the glorified image people have of a fictitious Paradise. The right one parodies the earthly Hell the Church does not want us to envisage: a present-day underworld in which hedonism and cruelty and the hypocrisy of conformist orthodoxy rule.
To posterity, which is given to wild inferences when it is not seeking to discredit or pay gratuitous homage, let it be known that I have chosen not to sign several of my paintings. Some were executed under my guidance or completed by worthy apprentices. Others, I felt, implicit in their eccentricity and plainspoken scorn for the usurpers of minds and souls, threatened to expose me as an apostate, a conniver or an agent of Satan.
Being a confirmed atheist, I hold that individuals should never accept concepts proposed as truth without recourse to proof and sound reasoning. I strive to erect my convictions on the basis of fact, common sense and observation. I reject the intellectually castrating custom of relying on “conventional wisdom,” popular culture, legend and reflex rituals imposed by the ruling classes to dogmatize society and keep the rabble quiet. I believe that given known facts, cogent inference and logic, there is no evidence to support the existence of supernatural phenomena. I further hold as evil the force-feeding of deviant and absurd beliefs upon the ignorant and simple-minded.
Advocates of inflexible dogma are especially skillful at blurring the truth or shielding against the glare of irrefutable fact. The greater their zeal in defending their causes, or silencing their rivals, the more tempting it becomes for them to assert that erudition, intellectualism, the pursuit of Light and iconoclasm are sinister cabals designed to spread impious or discomfiting ideas. Their mendacity and evil schemes must be exposed.
We all defy mortality according to our nature. Some spend their lives indulging in mindless diversions. Consumed with arrogance, using force of arms, wielding the mighty Cross, others bully people into submission. Others yet, labor to make a statement, to leave a permanent record of their brief existence. I paint. My work is my proclamation.
It is my last wish and command that future generations, should time and wisdom fail to cure the folly of blind faith and degenerate customs, be reminded of the horrors I have witnessed and, in time, be delivered from the scourge of fixed and aberrant ideas.
In the accompanying appendices I attempt to shed light on the attitudes and moral dilemmas that inspired works I credit as my own. In them, I also endeavor to convey my personal conviction that any truth that owes its existence, not to rational examination or logical deduction, but to blind faith is a wretched lie. Force me to believe and you feed my incredulity.
Executed this 7 February 1516.
Hieronymus Bosch, painter.
Vitam Impendere Vero. To consecrate life to the truth.
“Are you a Mason?”
“My Brothers recognize me as such.”
“What does Freemasonry strive for?”
“Enlightenment and the betterment of man.”
“Where do you labor?”
“In a lodge called the Middle Chamber.”
“Are you a Master?”
“The acacia is known to me.”
“What did you learn?”
“I was first taught to know myself. I was then led to the study of arts and sciences valuable to society, useful to my evolution as a man and indispensable to my development as a Freemason.”
“What moral lessons did you draw from this knowledge?”
“I understood that learning is vital to man, that it plants in us the seed of all virtues, that it unites us and that it reveals in each of us his rights and obligations.”
“What allegorical significance does the degree of Master Mason impart?”
“It recreates the intolerance against knowledge and it epitomizes the everlasting struggle waged by Truth against ignorance, fanaticism and superstition.”
“For what purpose was the grade of Master created?”
“To fight bigotry, the enemy of knowledge and enlightenment, and to exalt the Truth.”
“Does this struggle entail risks and perils?”
“Yes, because the dissemination of Truth has political consequences.”
What do you mean?”
“The Truth is a source of anxiety that inevitably threatens certain centers of worldly power.”
“How old are you?”
“Seven and more.”
“What does this allude to?”
“Seven and more is an indeterminate number that symbolizes wisdom and the Master Mason’s level of maturity. It also reminds us that the more we learn, the more we realize how very little we know.”
“Thank you, my Brother. The Lodge will now recess and reconvene to hear and deliberate the presentation Brother Montvert has kindly consented to prepare for this meeting.”
The Brothers rise to their feet, gather around the altar and, in due form, exclaim, “Houzzai, Houzzai, Houzzai. Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.”
On November 2 -- All Saints Day -- flanked by Manuel Albeniz who flies in from Madrid, Michel Montvert a 32nd degree Master Mason, addresses a specially convened meeting of the Charles Darwin Lodge, an affiliate of the Grand Orient of France in Paris.
“Venerable Master, distinguished officers, my fellow Masons: Through an extraordinary confluence of events, my esteemed Brother and colleague, Dr. Manuel Albeniz and I recently came into possession of an astonishing document that we have since expertly and categorically authenticated. Made available by a Brother in Holland who has requested anonymity, and reaching across the centuries, the document is penned and signed by a celebrated artist whose paintings continue to intrigue, startle and inspire. More astounding yet, our Dutch correspondent claims to be the last descendant of that inimitable painter. After diligent research, we have concluded that there is no reason to doubt his sincerity. The painter I refer to is called El Bosco in Spain, Jerôme Bosch in France and is otherwise universally known as Hieronymus Bosch.
“I have before me a facsimile of the original document and I shall proceed to read from the extraordinary and illuminating preamble. An appendix in which the author discusses the underlying principles and rationale for nine of his most recognizable paintings is far too long to examine at this time. A copy will be available online and in our library.”
Standing west of the altar, on which rests a book of blank pages, emblematic of the faith –- or lack of faith -- of the assembled Brothers, Montvert, in a cadenced and steady voice, reads from the extraordinary document. His audience is mesmerized.
“In conclusion, my Brothers, Hieronymus Bosch continues to defy the copious speculations of art critics and psychologists. Like us, he remains true to his central mission: the denunciation of censorship, thought control, whether political or religious, and other encroachments on personal freedoms that prevent people from accessing information, sharing controversial ideas and articulating opinions deemed to be discomfiting or even hostile to an almighty and ruthless oligarchy.
“Contrary to the faulty deductions or deliberate deceptions foisted on the public by various scholars, Bosch does not reaffirm his Christian orthodoxy. His work, now we know, is an incisive social commentary, more precisely an indictment against the ignominy of forced ideas and the absurdity of irrational beliefs that Descartes would expand upon less than one hundred years later in his famous Discours. The subdued melancholy of Bosch’s words suggests his work is also an ode to the beauty and wretchedness of human existence. He also reminds us that those who would manage our lives, religious and secular, will not hesitate to falsify the truth, concoct lies and suppress criticism to protect their own interests or the alleged well being of those they pretend to govern. As history confirms, we can no longer assume that the monitoring of eccentric ideas and the application of retaliatory gag rules, always harsh and despotic, are to be found solely in the Dark Ages or in some Orwellian realm, or that they emanate from the deepest recesses of some imaginary clandestine government-within-a-government. Targets of both Nazi and “communist” persecution, committed to defending our secular ideals, which include absolute separation of Church and State, we Freemasons know that intolerance is rife even in self-described democratic states where it often assumes a pernicious character, that it is spawned and fed by ideological bullies, deranged zealots, political shock troops, churches, school boards, partisan community newspapers, libraries and fascist groups that attack with malicious sanctimony any concept that eludes them or that threatens their modus vivendi.”
A carefully edited copy of Montvert’s remarks and the entire text of Bosch’s foreword are published in the prestigious Travaux of the Grand Orient de France and reprinted in the proceedings of constituent lodges around the world. A transcript, as are major Grand Orient communications destined for public consumption, is forwarded to the influential left-of-center daily, Le Monde, and, out of courtesy, to the darling of the French right, Le Figaro. The editor of Le Monde, a member of another Grand Orient lodge, tactfully runs the piece on Page Seven. The headline is restrained but telling:
De l’au-delà, un célèbre peintre Flamand
met en garde contre les abus de l’Eglise
(From the hereafter, a famed Flemish artist
warns against the abuses of the Church)
Le Figaro, whose motto is, “Without the right to criticize there can be no true praise,” refuses to publish the article.
A few days later, under a banner headline screaming IGNOBLE!, Le Calvaire, (The Calvary) the conservative French Catholic weekly magazine, issues a riposte that targets secularism, Freemasonry and “some of our brethren of the Mosaic Faith,” accusing them of “giddily conspiring to falsify history, vilify the Church, undermine Christianity and demoralize the flock.”
Montvert and Albeniz are over the moon. Their jubilation is short-lived. They realize, as Albeniz had predicted, that they have opened a can of worms -- raised “a big stink” that will prove difficult to ventilate.
The Vatican, characteristically reticent, withholds comment but is not inactive. Pope Benedict summons his top lieutenants in the Curia and the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. One of them recommends that the Holy See issue an encyclical “that unambiguously telegraphs our views on the matter.” The pontiff rejects the idea.
“We cannot appear to be reacting from a position of weakness. We must communicate our displeasure with utmost poise and decorum. This is still a local issue.” The pope shakes his head with impatience. “Ah, the French…. Let’s first work through the Paris archdiocese. Perhaps Trente-Trois and his boys can defuse the situation.”
At the behest of André Trente-Trois, Archbishop of Paris, Bishop Jean-Marie Touvier, his special envoy, calls Montvert and requests an urgent and secret summit. He asks that the tête-à-tête be held in the sacristy of the Saint-Etienne-du-Mont Church. Montvert, who has a wicked sense of humor, wisely refrains from suggesting Saint Sulpice Church, made famous by The Da Vinci Code. Instead, he proposes that they meet at Copernicus Lodge, temporarily “dark,” or inactive, as it undergoes renovation. Reluctantly, Bishop Touvier agrees.
The meeting is hastily convened and held on the evening of November 5th. Facing Bishop Touvier are Pierre Mandel, Master of Copernicus Lodge, Michel Montvert, Manuel Albeniz and Jacques Lelouch, Grand Master of the Grand Orient of France. The editor of Le Monde, claiming a prior engagement, declines the invitation.
“Gentlemen,” Bishop Touvier begins with all the aplomb his high office confers, “the Holy Father is saddened and troubled. The article in Le Monde has upset a number of high-ranking prelates in France and in Rome who have called for a strong and unambiguous response. The pope has asked for calm and patience but he is adamant. The Grand Orient of France must apologize. Freemasons have no business harassing us. You must also persuade Le Monde to issue a retraction. The article has all the makings of a very tall tale, a thrilling one at that, but a tall tale nonetheless that is apt to confuse, unnerve and dishearten many Catholics, and….”
“With all due respect, your Excellency, let me be clear,” Montvert cuts in. “One, we can present you with irrefutable evidence of the authenticity of the document reproduced in Les Travaux and later reprinted in Le Monde. Two, the Grand Orient of France is under no obligation to apologize to an institution that has maligned Freemasonry through the ages, repeatedly attempted to destroy it and continues to excoriate it both in official papal pronouncements and homilies in churches around the world. Three, the business of Freemasonry is to ferret out the truth and to circulate it. Four, we have no influence on what a newspaper may or may not publish, nor would we exert it if we did. Freedom of expression is a prized entitlement in this country. The very fact that Le Figaro declined to run the story offers ample proof of media independence…. Last, Le Monde readers, all left-of-center, are not likely to be confused, unnerved or disheartened by a tract that echoes their innermost convictions. Nor should what will surely be the brief resurrection of a largely unknown painter cause devout Catholics to defect.”
“We don’t fear defections,” Bishop Touvier exclaims. “We fear the destabilizing effect of confusion on the soul.”
“Confusion,” Albeniz interjects. “What confusion? Sixty-six percent of the French are nominally Catholics, but they’re more French than Catholic. Their piety is largely ceremonial, perfunctory, sustained by habit and reflex, not unshakable conviction. Growing discontent with the meddlesome influence of the Church of France -- the ‘Vatican’s eldest daughter’ -- on secular education, and its persistent efforts to influence politics continue to bolster French support for the absolute and categorical separation of Church and State our nation enjoys. Most Frenchmen have never heard of Hieronymus Bosch. Those who may be vaguely familiar with his name aren’t about to loose sleep over his art or its hypothetical influence on society, past or present.”
“Maybe,” Touvier protests, “but this latest bombshell suggests that the world of art, represented by Monsieur Montvert and you, Dr. Albeniz, and abetted by the Grand Orient of France, are keen on disrupting this blissful lack of interest and, in so doing, on kindling renewed antipathy toward the Church.”
“That’s nonsense and you know it,” Montvert snaps back. “The world of art is focused on art, not on faith, even if faith sometimes inspires art. Religious art is art; worldly art is art. Some is great, some is not. Much of it is quite forgettable. But what artists say in their work, allegorically or literally, is their business. Who but the Church or some despotic government would dare impugn their freedom of conscience or prevent them from exercising it as they see fit? No one has ever ridiculed Michelangelo’s sublime Pieta, Murillo’s enchanting Annunciation or Grünewald’s heart-wrenching Crucifixion. All who love art stand in awe of these geniuses, of their power to delight, inspire or agitate. But when Bosch or El Greco or Dali or Picasso or Klimt or Munch explore the genre and offer an eccentric or deconstructionist perspective of the same subjects, the Church cries foul. Only traditionalist art is decent, it insists, only God-inspired compositions have the power to stir the soul. Modernism is crude, degenerate, unintelligible. It lacks the poignancy of sacred works…. If the Church had focused on its own spirituality instead of hijacking the masses and reducing them to paralytic stupor, it might have avoided the kind of hostility centuries of dogmatism and intolerance have wrought.”
“As for Freemasonry, and more specifically the Grand Orient of France,” Grand Master Lelouch hastens to add, “we’re not interested in restraining religious freedom. You should know that by now. Your office has spent years scrutinizing Freemasonry. So have your predecessors. All you’ve managed to do, without having ever stepped inside a lodge, is to regurgitate hackneyed falsehoods -- that our rituals are a distortion of the Christian sacrament and that, irreligious libertines that we are, we promote social anarchy. Freemasons come in all shapes and sizes and colors and ethnicities and religious convictions. Some are deeply spiritual. Others openly profess their agnosticism or atheism. We embrace them all. What we strive for is intellectual maturity and flexibility, enlightenment, a passion for knowledge and a scrupulous respect for truth, social equality and justice.”
“No.” Touvier objects, raising an admonitory finger. “Only by surrendering to God can man secure these blessings. Instead, the subversive forces of secularism, backed by Marxists and Freemasons, have doggedly discouraged man’s ultimate reconciliation with his maker and retarded his salvation. You call it ‘Laïcité.’ We call it a tragic apostasy conceived to destroy the good works of our Lord Jesus.”
“Laïcité is still widely misunderstood, even in France,” Lelouch counters. “Based on two principles, one ethical (freedom of moral conscience), the other legal (separation of Church and state), Laïcité highlights the difference between two distinct realities: collective interest and well being, and personal conviction. A democracy cannot survive unless all men are granted, without distinction to class, origin or religious persuasion, the fundamental freedom to choose their poison or antidote, the means to be themselves, to enrich their mind, to be masters of their destiny. Freemasons do not proselytize. We do not preach. We do not sermonize. We do not charge those who do not share our ideals with heresy, we do not threaten them with eternal damnation. That’s your modus operandi, isn’t it?”
Touvier’s ashen complexion -- he avoids sunlight like a vampire -- turns red. “We obey the word of God as spoken through his Son Jesus and articulated by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and exalted in Revelation.”
“What you obey is an archaic and arbitrary bureaucracy created to abolish freedom of thought and impose obligatory beliefs based on myth and fabrications, not fact,” retorts Montvert, who has no patience for people who rely on the Bible to shore up their arguments.
“The evidence that sustains us is Scriptures nourished by faith,” Bishop Touvier fires back.
“A faith that ensnares simple souls, that robs them of their judgment and extorts their hard-earned wages. A faith that purports to be doing God’s work yet is demonstrably capable of horrific inhumanity. The problem is not that there is no God when things go wrong, but that things go wrong when God becomes part of the equation.”
“In the name of decency and fairness, and to help safeguard harmonious relations, I beseech you to reconsider. What good can come from such a premeditated affront?”
“Decency and fairness? You must be joking. As for the Bosch document there was no premeditation, I give you my word,” Montvert affirms. “We were informed of an extraordinary discovery and ….”
“You could have kept it to yourselves or quietly consigned it to some obscure art gazette. Instead, you shared it with the Grand Orient and the press, and in so doing you helped set off an avalanche of controversy.”
“Talk about safeguarding harmonious relations…. There is no controversy except the one you and Le Calvaire are fueling. Let me remind you that we are not handicapped or constrained, like the Church, by a fear of embarrassing facts. Scholarship and history are at stake here, not parochial sensitivities. Freedom of conscience is meaningless without the freedom to express it.”
Touvier turns wistful. “What this will lead to is a stain on human dignity, the defeat of trust between people, the triumph of egoism and the loss of emotional tranquility. One can never have true justice, real peace, if God is rejected, if He becomes meaningless, if His teachings are cast aside.”
“It takes colossal naïveté or staggering cynicism to gloss over the rivers of blood that have been spilled in the name of God, that continue to flow as we speak” Albeniz counters angrily.
“Let it go, Bishop Touvier,” Montvert offers in a conciliatory tone. “Look on the bright side. The Bosch story is yesterday’s news. By tomorrow, no one will remember, no one will care. By year’s end, France and the rest of the Christian world will be aglow in Christmas lights. The season will foster feelings of good cheer and lofty resolutions, short-lived as they may be, and life will go on.”
“The Church has been grievously injured.”
“Only in it pride, not its essence.”
“It’s a matter of principle.”
“How can you talk about principle when you deny man his right to reject ideas that contradict reason?”
“Principle steels me against fear.”
“Without fear, man is a golem, a robot, a soulless automaton.”
Montvert pauses, looks away briefly then, smiling softly, fixes his gaze on Touvier. “Faith may steel you against fear but it doesn’t protect you from your past. For you are a relic of the past, a very dark one at that, and against all common sense you refuse to come out of the shadows.”
Bishop Touvier falls silent. He understands all too well Montvert’s insinuation. He is the grand-nephew of Paul Touvier, a thug and womanizer who, with the support of the Catholic Church and under the command of Klaus Barbie -- the “Butcher of Lyon” -- massacred seven Jewish hostages in a small French village. He later masterminded the execution of 50 French Jews. In 1946, sentenced to death in absentia by the French courts for treason and collusion with the Nazis, Paul Touvier is arrested. He manages to escape, probably with the help of accomplices. In 1966, invoking the 20-year statute of limitations on capital punishment, he applies for a pardon and petitions the court for the restitution of confiscated property. In 1971, French President George Pompidou pardons him, causing a public outcry that escalates when it is revealed that most of the property Touvier claims as his own was stolen from Jews deported to Hitler’s death camps. A new arrest warrant is issued in 1981. Eight years later, he is found hiding in a monastery where he had been granted refuge, “an act of charity toward a homeless man,” according to the abbot. At his arrest, further evidence shows that he had been protected for years by the Catholic Church in Lyon, and later by members of the Traditionalist Catholic movement. Touvier is also found to have played an instrumental role in the murder of a prominent human rights leader and his wife, and in the deportation of a number of Jews to the East. He is defended by a right-wing monarchist attorney who later becomes president of a Traditionalist Catholic organization. A Traditionalist Catholic priest of the Society of Saint Pius X acts as his spiritual advisor in court. Found guilty, he is sentenced to life imprisonment. In 1996, he dies of prostate cancer at Fresnes Prison near Paris. A Tridentine Requiem Mass is offered for the repose of his soul at a Paris chapel.
At midnight, unable to convince Touvier that his bowdlerizing mission is in vain, Lelouch adjourns the meeting and the men part. Lelouch offers to reconvene at a later date for another round of talks but he insists that the Grand Orient shall not be deterred in its quest to serve the interests of scholarship and truth. Bishop Touvier brushes off the invitation.
“There can be no dialogue if the Church’s teachings are contested.”
“In other words, it’s your way or no way,” says Montvert.
Touvier casts one last bitter look at Montvert but says nothing.
As the prelate’s limousine pulls from the rain-slick curb and fades away swallowed by the fog, Montvert wonders if the bishop might be asking himself whether the blessings of unshakable priestly devotion carry with them the curse of remorse.
He then turns his thoughts to the next project at hand: the translation, annotation and dissemination of Hieronymus Bosch’s tell-all manuscripts.