Atheism For Dummies (For Dummies (Religion & Spirituality)) (24 page)

The label
atheos
(meaning “godless one”) was tossed at just about anyone who held a religiously unorthodox opinion during this period — even at those who actually did believe in gods. Socrates was no atheist, for example, but his suggestion that the gods of Athens weren’t the right ones was enough to put the hemlock in his hand. (Granted, his insistence on publicly embarrassing those in power may also have had
something
to do with it.)

Socrates was by no means the first Greek to cast doubt on the religion of his time. Pre-Socratic philosophers explained the world in terms of natural laws that made things run without the need for divine intervention, an idea the powers-to-be considered deeply subversive. Democritus — often called the father of modern science for his idea that the universe is made of atoms — saw belief in gods as nothing more than a fearful response to the unknown. After we understand the natural causes for all we observe, he said, we’ll transcend that fear and have no further need of gods. He became a mentor to some other god-doubting philosophers, including Theodorus and Diagoras, both of whom I discuss later in this chapter.

Even a perfectly mainstream opinion had little chance of making it through the shredder of history (for more on that shredder, see “
Uncovering What the Ancients Believed (or Didn’t)
,” earlier in this chapter). The fact that any
whiff
of atheism, the least orthodox opinion of all, made it all the way from the ancient Greco-Roman world to the present is frankly astonishing. But enough whispers confirm that a lively thread of religious doubt, up to and including complete atheism, was present and accounted for there at the roots of Western civilization.

Meeting the “first atheists” — Diagoras and Theodorus

Diagoras of Melos is almost certainly the most famous atheist in fifth century BCE Greece. He’s often dubbed “the first atheist” — news that would have surprised the earliest Jain and Buddhist atheists if they hadn’t already been dead by centuries.

Diagoras didn’t write much about his atheism, but plenty of others on hand recorded his frequent jabs at the religious beliefs of his time. When a ship carrying Diagoras encountered a terrible storm, the crew shouted aloud that the gods were angry at them for giving passage to a godless man — leading Diagoras to wonder aloud if each of the other ships fighting the storm had its own Diagoras aboard.

When Athens slaughtered the inhabitants of his home island of Melos, one of the most vulnerable settlements in the Aegean Sea — for no other purpose than to prove their military power to Sparta — Diagoras publicly cited the lack of divine retribution against Athens’ immoral act as proof that no gods existed. The leaders of Athens responded by throwing him into a cell. Only a sizeable ransom by his teacher and fellow disbeliever Democritus saved Diagoras from execution.

After such a close call, you’d think Diagoras would lie low. But not long after his release, he was described chopping up a wooden statue of Hercules and throwing it in his cooking fire. “Cooking my turnips will be his thirteenth labor!” he laughed to his horrified onlookers. When he revealed the secret rituals of the Greek Eleusinian mystery religion — thereby taking a bit of the air out of the “mystery” part — the Athenian authorities decided to be rid of him at last. They announced a reward — one piece of silver for his death or two for his capture.

Diagoras fled to Corinth, where he lived out his life and died, to everyone’s surprise, in bed.

It’s in his book
On the Gods
that
Diagoras’s atheism came through most clearly. Though the book was still around 500 years later to impress Diogenes Laertes, a biographer of philosophers, with its compelling arguments, the book finally vanished in the historical sinkhole of the early Middle Ages.

Theodorus, known as “The Atheist” of Cyrene — whose name ironically means “gift of the gods” — was another Greek philosopher who went beyond challenging the gods of the moment into complete unbelief in the existence of any such beings. The goal of human life is to seek joy and avoid grief, he said, and joy is found most readily in knowledge, while grief stems primarily from ignorance — including time wasted worrying about the whims of cranky, inscrutable deities.

One of the strongest influences on Theodorus was Epicurus, one of the most important philosophers of all time. Though he wasn’t an atheist, I have to mention him here for his efforts to get any gods there might be out of the way of human happiness. If there are gods, he said, they have nothing to do with humans. As a result, we don’t have to fear them and can get on with the business of being happy.

Epicurus was also responsible for one of the most thought-provoking statements about God ever made: the Epicurean Paradox. God is said to be all-powerful and all-good — but Epicurus says he can’t be both. Here’s why:

Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he’s not all-powerful.

Is he able, but not willing? Then he’s not all-good.

Is he both able and willing? Then why is there evil?

Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?

For a brief moment, humanism stretched its wings.

Meeting the “first agnostic”— Protagoras of Abdera

It’s a discovery story to rival Hollywood. While hauling a load of wood through the streets of Abdera, Protagoras supposedly crossed paths with Democritus, a celebrated philosopher who also lived in Abdera. Democritus noticed that the pieces of wood in Protagoras’s load had been fitted together with such incredible skill and ingenuity that he figured Protagoras must have been a genius. He invited him to live and study philosophy in his home. They shared a deep affinity as thinkers, including the powerful idea that the gods were most likely bunk. And the rest is history — and philosophy.

Protagoras was best known for saying “Man is the measure of all things,” an idea that stirred up plenty of outrage in his and subsequent generations. If everything should be assessed in terms of humanity, huff the huffers, then the gods are no longer at the center of people’s concerns. Well exactly — and that’s humanism stretching its wings again.

According to later historians, Protagoras’s outspoken agnostic writings and speeches finally drove the Athenian leaders to do what they do best — sentence the dissenter to death. Fortunately they weren’t especially good at carrying
out
those sentences, and Protagoras escaped, though the storm he encountered at sea took his life.