The True Believer

These are excerpts from the wonderful book "The True Believer", by Eric Hoffer.

Faith, n.

That quality which enables us to believe what we know to be untrue. ("The Devil's Dictionary", Ambrose Bierce)

Faith in a holy cause is to a considerable extent a substitute for the lost faith in ourselves.

The less justified a man is in claiming excellence for his own self, the more ready is he to claim all excellence for his nation, his religion, his race, or his holy cause.

A man is likely to mind his own business when it is worth minding. When it is not, he takes his mind off his own meaningless affairs by minding other people's business.

One of the most potent attractions of a mass movement is its offering of a substitute for individual hope.

When our individual interests and prospects do not seem worth living for, we are in desperate need of something apart from us to live for. All forms of dedication, devotion, loyalty and self-surrender are in essence a desperate clinging to something which might give worth and meaning to our futile spoiled lives.

Emigration offers some of the things the frustrated hope to find when they join a mass movement, namely, change and a chance for a new beginning.

Some of the poor stagnating in the slums of the cities are smug in their decay. They shudder at the thought of life outside their familiar cesspool. Even the respectable poor, when their poverty is of long standing, remain inert.

It is usually those whose poverty is relatively recent, the "new" poor, who throb with the ferment of frustration. The memory of better things is as fire in their veins.

The poor on the borderline of starvation live purposeful lives. To be engaged in a desperate struggle for food and shelter is to be wholly free from a sense of futility. The goals are concrete and immediate. Every meal is a fulfillment; to go to sleep on a full stomach is a triumph and every windfall a miracle.

Where people toil from sunrise to sunset for a bare living, they nurse no grievances and dream no dreams. One of the reasons for the unrebelliousness of the masses in China is the inordinate effort required there to scrape together the means of the scantiest subsistence.

Misery does not automatically generate discontent, nor is the intensity of discontent directly proportionate to the degree of misery. Discontent is likely to be highest when misery is bearable; when conditions have so improved that an ideal state seems almost within reach.

Our frustration is greater when we have so much and want more than when we have nothing and want some. We are less dissatisfied when we lack many things than when we lack but one thing.

Slaves are poor, yet where slavery is widespread and long-established, there is little likelihood for the rise of a mass movement. The absolute equality among the slaves and the intimate communal life in slave quarters, preclude individual frustration. In a society with an institution of slavery, the trouble makers are the newly enslaved and the freed slaves. In the case of the latter, it is the burden of freedom which is at the root of discontent.

Unless a man has the talents to make something of himself, freedom is an irksome burden.

The passion for equality is partly a passion for anonymity; to be one thread of the many which make up a tunic; one thread not distinguishable from the others. No one can point us out, measure us against others and expose our inferiority.

Nothing so bolsters our self-confidence and reconciles us with ourselves as the continuous ability to create; to see things grow and develop under our own hand, day in, day out.

The ideal potential convert is the individual who stands alone, who has no collective body he can blend with and lose himself in and so mask the pettiness, meaninglessness and shabbiness of his individual existence.

In the industrialized Western world, the family is weakened and disrupted mainly by economic factors. Economic independence for women facilitates divorce. Economic independence for the young weakens parental authority and also hastens an early splitting up of the family group.

The discontent generated in backward countries by their contact with Western civilization is not primarily resentment against exploitation by domineering foreigners. It is rather the result of a crumbling or weakening of tribal solidarity and communal life. The ideal of self-advancement which the civilizing West offers to backward populations brings with it the plague of individual frustration. All the advantages brought by the West are ineffectual substitutes for the sheltering and soothing anonymity of a communal existence. Even when the Westernized native attains personal success, becomes rich, or masters a respected profession, he is not happy. He feels naked and orphaned. The nationalist movements in the colonial countries are partly a striving after group existence and an escape from Western individualism. The Western colonizing powers offer the native the gift of individual freedom and independence. They try to teach him self-reliance. What it actually amounts to is individual isolation. It means the cutting off of an immature and poorly furnished individual from the corporate whole and releasing him, in the words of Khomiakov, "to the freedom of his own impotence". The feverish desire to band together and coalesce into marching masses so manifest both in our homelands and in the countries we colonize is the expression of a desperate effort to escape this ineffectual, purposeless individual existence.

A rising mass movement can never go too far in advocating and promoting collective cohesion. Hitler knew that the chief passion of the frustrated is "to belong", and that there cannot be too much cementing and binding to satisfy this passion.

We run fastest and farthest when we run from ourselves.

Among the permanent misfits are those with an unfulfilled craving for creative work.

A minority which preserves its identity is inevitably a compact whole which shelters the individual, gives him a sense of belonging and immunizes him against frustration. The segregated Negro in the South is less frustrated than the non-segregated Negro in the North.

Crime is to some extent a substitute for a mass movement. Where public opinion and law enforcement are not too stringent, and poverty not absolute, the underground pressure of malcontents and misfits often leaks out into crime. It has been observed that in the exaltation of mass movements (whether patriotic, religious, or revolutionary), common crime declines.

The capacities for united action and self-sacrifice seem almost always to go together. When we hear of a group that is particularly contemptuous of death, we are usually justified in concluding that the group is closely knit and thouroughly unified.

To a man utterly without a sense of belonging, mere life is all that matters. It is the only reality in an eternity of nothingness, and he clings to it with shameless despair.

The thirty thousand hopeless people in the concentration camp of Buchenwald did not develop any form of united action, nor did they manifest any readiness for self-sacrifice. There was there more greed and ruthless selfishness than in the greediest and most corrupt of free societies. Instead of studying the way in which they could best help each other, they used all their ingenuity to dominate and oppress each other.

All active mass movements strive, therefore to interpose a fact-proof screen between the faithful and the realities of the world. They do this by claiming that the ultimate and absolute truth is already embodied in their doctrine and that there is no truth nor certitude outside it. The facts on which the true believer bases his conclusions must not be derived from his experience or observations, but from holy writ.

To rely on the evidence of the senses and of reason is heresy and treason.

It is the true believer's ability to "shut his eyes and stop his ears" to facts that do not deserve to be either seen or heard which is the source of his unequaled fortitude and constancy. He cannot be frightened by danger nor disheartened by obstacle nor baffled by contradictions because he denies their existence.

It is obvious that in order to be effective, a doctrine must not be understood, but has to be believed in. We can be absolutely certain only about things we do not understand.

The devout are always urged to seek the absolute truth with their hearts and not their minds.

One was well-minded to understand holy writ when one hated oneself.

He becomes an anonymous particle quivering with a craving to fuse and coalesce with his like into one flaming mass.

Common hatred unifies the most heterogenenous elements.

Self-righteousness is a loud din raised to drown the voice of guilt within us.

The deindividualization which is a prerequisite for thorough integration and selfless dedication is also, to a considerable extent, a process of dehumanization.

Every device is used to cut off the faithful from intercourse with non-believers.

The total surrender of a distinct self is a pre-requisite for the attainment of both unity and self-sacrifice; and there is probably no more direct way of realizing this surrender than by inculcating and extolling the habit of blind obedience.

These are excerpts from the wonderful book "The True Believer", by Eric Hoffer.
Faith, n. That quality which enables us to believe what we know to be untrue. ("The Devil's Dictionary", Ambrose Bierce)
Faith in a holy cause is to a considerable extent a substitute for the lost faith in ourselves. The less justified a man is in claiming excellence for his own self, the more ready is he to claim all excellence for his nation, his religion, his race, or his holy cause. A man is likely to mind his own business when it is worth minding. When it is not, he takes his mind off his own meaningless affairs by minding other people's business. One of the most potent attractions of a mass movement is its offering of a substitute for individual hope. When our individual interests and prospects do not seem worth living for, we are in desperate need of something apart from us to live for. All forms of dedication, devotion, loyalty and self-surrender are in essence a desperate clinging to something which might give worth and meaning to our futile spoiled lives. Emigration offers some of the things the frustrated hope to find when they join a mass movement, namely, change and a chance for a new beginning. Some of the poor stagnating in the slums of the cities are smug in their decay. They shudder at the thought of life outside their familiar cesspool. Even the respectable poor, when their poverty is of long standing, remain inert. It is usually those whose poverty is relatively recent, the "new" poor, who throb with the ferment of frustration. The memory of better things is as fire in their veins. The poor on the borderline of starvation live purposeful lives. To be engaged in a desperate struggle for food and shelter is to be wholly free from a sense of futility. The goals are concrete and immediate. Every meal is a fulfillment; to go to sleep on a full stomach is a triumph and every windfall a miracle. Where people toil from sunrise to sunset for a bare living, they nurse no grievances and dream no dreams. One of the reasons for the unrebelliousness of the masses in China is the inordinate effort required there to scrape together the means of the scantiest subsistence. Misery does not automatically generate discontent, nor is the intensity of discontent directly proportionate to the degree of misery. Discontent is likely to be highest when misery is bearable; when conditions have so improved that an ideal state seems almost within reach. Our frustration is greater when we have so much and want more than when we have nothing and want some. We are less dissatisfied when we lack many things than when we lack but one thing. Slaves are poor, yet where slavery is widespread and long-established, there is little likelihood for the rise of a mass movement. The absolute equality among the slaves and the intimate communal life in slave quarters, preclude individual frustration. In a society with an institution of slavery, the trouble makers are the newly enslaved and the freed slaves. In the case of the latter, it is the burden of freedom which is at the root of discontent. Unless a man has the talents to make something of himself, freedom is an irksome burden. The passion for equality is partly a passion for anonymity; to be one thread of the many which make up a tunic; one thread not distinguishable from the others. No one can point us out, measure us against others and expose our inferiority. Nothing so bolsters our self-confidence and reconciles us with ourselves as the continuous ability to create; to see things grow and develop under our own hand, day in, day out. The ideal potential convert is the individual who stands alone, who has no collective body he can blend with and lose himself in and so mask the pettiness, meaninglessness and shabbiness of his individual existence. In the industrialized Western world, the family is weakened and disrupted mainly by economic factors. Economic independence for women facilitates divorce. Economic independence for the young weakens parental authority and also hastens an early splitting up of the family group. The discontent generated in backward countries by their contact with Western civilization is not primarily resentment against exploitation by domineering foreigners. It is rather the result of a crumbling or weakening of tribal solidarity and communal life. The ideal of self-advancement which the civilizing West offers to backward populations brings with it the plague of individual frustration. All the advantages brought by the West are ineffectual substitutes for the sheltering and soothing anonymity of a communal existence. Even when the Westernized native attains personal success, becomes rich, or masters a respected profession, he is not happy. He feels naked and orphaned. The nationalist movements in the colonial countries are partly a striving after group existence and an escape from Western individualism. The Western colonizing powers offer the native the gift of individual freedom and independence. They try to teach him self-reliance. What it actually amounts to is individual isolation. It means the cutting off of an immature and poorly furnished individual from the corporate whole and releasing him, in the words of Khomiakov, "to the freedom of his own impotence". The feverish desire to band together and coalesce into marching masses so manifest both in our homelands and in the countries we colonize is the expression of a desperate effort to escape this ineffectual, purposeless individual existence. A rising mass movement can never go too far in advocating and promoting collective cohesion. Hitler knew that the chief passion of the frustrated is "to belong", and that there cannot be too much cementing and binding to satisfy this passion. We run fastest and farthest when we run from ourselves. Among the permanent misfits are those with an unfulfilled craving for creative work. A minority which preserves its identity is inevitably a compact whole which shelters the individual, gives him a sense of belonging and immunizes him against frustration. The segregated Negro in the South is less frustrated than the non-segregated Negro in the North. Crime is to some extent a substitute for a mass movement. Where public opinion and law enforcement are not too stringent, and poverty not absolute, the underground pressure of malcontents and misfits often leaks out into crime. It has been observed that in the exaltation of mass movements (whether patriotic, religious, or revolutionary), common crime declines. The capacities for united action and self-sacrifice seem almost always to go together. When we hear of a group that is particularly contemptuous of death, we are usually justified in concluding that the group is closely knit and thouroughly unified. To a man utterly without a sense of belonging, mere life is all that matters. It is the only reality in an eternity of nothingness, and he clings to it with shameless despair. The thirty thousand hopeless people in the concentration camp of Buchenwald did not develop any form of united action, nor did they manifest any readiness for self-sacrifice. There was there more greed and ruthless selfishness than in the greediest and most corrupt of free societies. Instead of studying the way in which they could best help each other, they used all their ingenuity to dominate and oppress each other. All active mass movements strive, therefore to interpose a fact-proof screen between the faithful and the realities of the world. They do this by claiming that the ultimate and absolute truth is already embodied in their doctrine and that there is no truth nor certitude outside it. The facts on which the true believer bases his conclusions must not be derived from his experience or observations, but from holy writ. To rely on the evidence of the senses and of reason is heresy and treason. It is the true believer's ability to "shut his eyes and stop his ears" to facts that do not deserve to be either seen or heard which is the source of his unequaled fortitude and constancy. He cannot be frightened by danger nor disheartened by obstacle nor baffled by contradictions because he denies their existence. It is obvious that in order to be effective, a doctrine must not be understood, but has to be believed in. We can be absolutely certain only about things we do not understand. The devout are always urged to seek the absolute truth with their hearts and not their minds. One was well-minded to understand holy writ when one hated oneself. He becomes an anonymous particle quivering with a craving to fuse and coalesce with his like into one flaming mass. Common hatred unifies the most heterogenenous elements. Self-righteousness is a loud din raised to drown the voice of guilt within us. The deindividualization which is a prerequisite for thorough integration and selfless dedication is also, to a considerable extent, a process of dehumanization. Every device is used to cut off the faithful from intercourse with non-believers. The total surrender of a distinct self is a pre-requisite for the attainment of both unity and self-sacrifice; and there is probably no more direct way of realizing this surrender than by inculcating and extolling the habit of blind obedience.

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