The Apocalypse of Pragmatism: Niebuhr, King, and Hope in Justice

This essay was written for a class on Christian Ethics

The following paper is a synthetic analysis of Reinhold Niebuhr’s Moral Man and Immoral Society and Martin Luther King Junior’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. These two documents relay alternative views of justice. Despite Niebuhr’s affection for Martin Luther King Jr., I fear that the latter’s radical hope is beyond the scope of the former’s own sensibilities. I will draw upon Jurgen Moltmann’s Theology of Hope as well as modern political history in order to critique Niebuhr’s position thoroughly, while hopefully providing an alternative lens with which Christians can attack issues of justice and the use of violence through the lens of hope. In this way Martin Luther King Jr. will serve as the foundational figure for understanding hopeful justice.

There is much to talk about with these two documents, however I want to focus loosely on Niebuhr’s justification of violence and Martin Luther King Jr.’s denial of it. The conversation will be a bit more connected to issues of violence and war than the Civil Rights movement – although I do believe that both Moral Man and Letter from a Birmingham Jailput forward paradigms of justice that can absolutely exist in conversation around that movement as well. I hope to capture the core of the conversation around hope in justice rather than the side effects of it, which is why I will try not to talk directly about ethical actions and more about paradigms for understanding ethical systems, specifically in critiquing Niebuhr while providing a foil in MLK. Their main disagreement, in my eyes, comes by way of their understanding of hope, idealism, and pragmatism.

I will begin my critique of Niebuhr’s here: Moral Man allows people in positions of power to get away with grave injustices by creating what I see as a false distinction between a person’s political and personal identity. Once this distinction is created, the political identity is justified to commit tragic acts in the name of pragmatism. Pragmatism, or perhaps pessimism, supplants hope and thus compels us away from a progressive view of human history. Jurgen Moltmann says it best: “In adopting this so-called realism dictated by the facts we fall victim to the worst of all utopias, the utopia of the status-quo” (Theology of Hope, 23).

Niebuhr seems committed to a static human depravity. In the first chapter of Moral Man, he laments how it is “impossible to count on enough moral goodwill” in issues of justice. He finds himself in good company with such a claim; depravity has been a theme throughout nearly all of Christian history, and its ramifications can be found throughout human history. In order to prove his point Niebuhr examines things such as American slavery that required the Union to decimate the Confederacy in order to abolish slavery (12).

This is true, perhaps. But it is likewise true that Quakers, led by William Wilberforce a century earlier, had suaded the English parliament to abolish their own brand of slavery legislatively. This reality is what I feel lacking in Niebuhr’s, and many others’ “realism” – it is overly reductionistic. Oftentimes war does solve certain problems. But the possibilities for other solutions are likewise littered throughout history. This precedent – things like the ministry of Wilberforce – is enough to hold fast to hope and look for non-violent ways to bring about just ends.

Something I appreciate quite dearly about Niebuhr is a conviction that I read as a need for balance within the moral landscape of politics. This is to say, that I do not read him as attempting to universalize his understanding of morality in political action – he is highly skeptical of those who “moralize” others by telling them what they should do. In doing so he leaves room for people like Martin Luther King Jr. to provide a prophetic witness. He speaks of this in chapter 10 with the role of the “moral seer”.

The issue that I see, though, is that Niebuhr has already admitted that moral suasion, which is the moral seer’s function, is an idealistic solution when power is involved. If the prophet exists at all, a figure such as MLK, then what use are they other than to morally persuade? We cannot reason morally with every person – this is an absolutely fair critique of idealism that Niebuhr (rightfully, in my opinion) attacks often. But is it so ridiculous to believe that we can morally reason with one powerful person? Or perhaps a majority of the population of a democratic society? And is it then absurd to think that such a person, or group of people, can thus enact justice in the public sphere? The whole gambit of democracy is that people can wield power and enact justice, but Niebuhr remains skeptical of such claims because he has seen the wicked potential of humanity. He defines humanity by the potential of their worst actors rather than the potential of their best actors.

Further, if the sentiment that humans are beyond moral persuasion was truly held, would not then the role of the prophet become moot? Is not the prophet’s primary function to expose the injustices of power to the people, thus persuading them, morally speaking?

Perhaps I am missing the point of Niebuhr’s moral seer. When I read Moral Man and Immoral Society, I read the work of a man who is so committed to the reality of human brokenness that brokenness wins in the end. It makes sense to say as an atheist, but I find it troubling to hear from a Christian thinker. It’s as if resurrection never happened, as if hope is nothing more than sentimentality, to use Niebuhr’s own words.

Figures such as MLK, however, see sin as a present reality that has likewise already been overcome by Jesus. In this sense, yes, moral suasion is not always possible in reality, but it must be pursued a void. Functionally speaking, people can change, and that is the framework of hope that MLK’s understanding of justice is based within.

Another critique I wager against Niebuhr is this: I would feel much better about Niebuhr’s work if it was digested by actual politicians who are themselves put in impossible moral dilemmas in order to maintain the dignity of their state. I feel much worse about these ethics being disseminated throughout the American population, to a cyclically violent populous that will find any reason to justify their own immoral action.

In the Trump era of politics we saw one of the clearest examples of evangelical Christians becoming able to divide their moral, Christian sensibilities from their political stances. The divide becomes obvious when looking at Evangelicalism’s utter contempt for outsiders despite Christ’s teaching on welcoming the foreigners; Or their commitment to denying economically disadvantaged people help despite Jesus’ clear teaching on the matter. Of course these are all political positions that Niebuhr would despise, but the precedent of one being able to separate themselves (“the moral man”) from their political reality (“immoral society”) is why these Christians feel justified in doing so. Whereas the mechanics of democracy promise to hold the powerful to account, Niebuhr’s work, to me, indirectly allows for a moral relativism to grow and grow within a nation who’s populous, government, and military have done little to deserve such a benefit of the doubt.

I am sympathetic to the notion we needed to hear Niebuhr’s words when they were spoken. The World War II context is inescapable when evaluating his work, and while I may disagree with his conclusions, the Nazi threat creates complicated situations that I simply cannot evaluate accurately in the 21st century. But likewise, such context is no longer our reality. Niebuhr himself would demand that we take power dynamics into account, and the United States of America currently exists as the most powerful nation in the history of humankind. When one country exerts hegemony over dozensof less powerful countries, one must ask precisely what exactly is going on, and whether Niebuhr himself would support such justifications. He probably would not, but wide swaths of people insist that his work justifies it nonetheless. Once context becomes justification, the immoral actors will justify the action with context every time.

An example: Former President Barack Obama cited Reinhold Niebuhr as his “favorite philosopher”. In an interview with David Brooks, Obama specified that his biggest takeaway from Niebuhr is “The compelling idea that there's serious evil in the world and hardship and pain. And we should be humble and modest in our belief that we can eliminate those things. But we shouldn't use that as an excuse for cynicism and inaction. I take away ... the sense that we have to make these efforts knowing they are hard, and not swinging from naive idealism to bitter realism.”

It would be interesting to ask the former president whether the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is naïve idealism. He himself affirmed in a 2011 speech that human rights are a “primary concern” for the United States; however, his human rights record says otherwise.

I don’t want to dwell on Obama too much because, well, perhaps he simply misunderstood Niebuhr – I would guess Niebuhr himself might say so. But my primary critique bears repeating here: Moral Man allows for people in positions of power to get away with injustice. Niebuhr claims pragmatism, but in the wide dissemination of this idea, pragmatism functionally becomes pessimism. People then result to worst-case-scenario thinking. Realism’s wager is that the world is set in its ways, and that very claim is something I don’t see MLK giving any ground on. More on that shortly.

My final critique of Niebuhr is his assertion that idealism is a privileged position. I will not outright disagree with him on this front; indeed, Cole Niles being an idealist is a privilege that many may (rightfully) criticize me for. But is not pragmatism too? Is not Christian realism giving way to the notion that the present reality is the “real world” and that idealists – even those unprivileged idealists – must accept it as such? Perhaps one would find no problem pointing out the privilege of a straight white male, but does the critique of idealism carry the same weight for a black woman desiring idealistic, unrelenting, uncompromising justice for the death of her child at the hands of state violence? Is it not paternalistic, to use MLK’s phrasing, to pat such idealists on the head and deny their demand for complete justice? The difference between a first- and second-degree murder conviction may seem like a small difference to the unenthused, but the scale of justice remains immensely important to those affected by it. These “idealists” would cringe at the notion that their uncompromising commitment to justice comes from a place of privilege.

Now to violence itself. It is perhaps a reductionist picture of Niebuhr’s view of justice, but when we look at the modern United States, we see example after example of morals being sacrificed yet no radical change ever happening. It was Niebuhr’s contention that “If a season of violence can establish a just social system and can create the possibilities of its preservation, there is no purely ethical ground upon which violence and revolution can be ruled out” (179). But how often does that change ever actually happen for good? There is a reason that revolution has become such a terrifying word to most of the world. Likewise, without coherent and uniform definitions of a just social system, Niebuhr’s assertion all but justifies any violent revolution. Does he not know that there has never been a revolutionary that did not think their struggle laden with justice? Christian realism then becomes a cyclical and self-justifying pattern that elevates the responsibility of the state above the self and which then allows for politicians and public figures to commit immoral act on behalf of the state, and not themselves. Politicians become actors devoid accountability. Even the theoretical accountability of the moral seer has already been cut down by Niebuhr’s own premises that humans are unlikely to be persuaded morally: without coercive state power, Niebuhr himself must honestly admit that the moral seer is truly nothing more than an idealist shouting into the wind.

So then here are questions that must be asked of Niebuhr’s work: Why is Moral Man’s implementation so cyclical? Why are Niebuhr’s conclusions useable in every American military conflict – or any conflict at all? Christian realism has brought about a sort of nihilism wherein violent, physically coercive action becomes the standard rather than the exception. Perhaps Niebuhr could say that modern Christian realists misread his moral system, and perhaps he’s even right. But the issue is less about the mechanics of the system of justice and more about the core – It that lacks hope. Pragmatism breeds the world it imagines: broken, suffering, and constantly in need of an immoral savior. It’s clear to see in 2022, as this represents the exact reality of US Foreign Policy.

I want to linger on the word pragmatism for a bit here. If Niebuhr is willing to characterize idealism as blissful ignorance to the real world, then I feel at ease saying that pragmatism becomes simple nihilism in practice. In fact, I agree wholeheartedly with Jurgen Moltmann in the assertion that “Hope alone is to be called ‘realistic’ because it alone takes seriously the possibilities with which reality is fraught. It does not take things as they happen to stand or lie, but as progressing, moving things with possibilities of change.” (Theology of Hope, 25). Hope is not some distant fancy, but a reality for Christians – it is the guiding principle of action. It is pragmatic in a truer sense.

You see, in order to enact incremental change, radical change must be proposed. By being radical, one shifts the window of acceptable discourse closer to justice naturally. The Overton window always falls somewhere in between two factions, so radicality allows for the opportunity of larger pieces of incremental change to take place. No radical has ever gotten everything that they ask for – instead, they demand the most and receive a package of concessions, somewhere in the middle… small victories. This was King’s strategy. So then, by being radical, we act pragmatically, anticipating the nihilist’s rebuffing and compromising in the middle – which has been shifted closer to justice, if we are radicals for justice’s sake.

King puts it this way: “Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and establish such creative tension that a community that has consistently refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored” (Letter from a Birmingham Jail 2). Radical non-violent direct action forces its opponents to confront justice head on, yet without the threat of harm. Grassroots violence requires state violence responses, and brings about backwards progress to establishing a just society because of the justifications for defensive violence that the state now holds. Leverage is lost. But the concessions that come out of non-violent radicality mustbecome that incremental change which the centrists say they so desperately desire. The state has no justification for their violence against the non-violent. Nonetheless, these centrists attack radicality.

This is what MLK spoke of when he waged war on the white moderate in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail. The white moderates, to King, are the primary issue with enacting change. Radicals push the boundaries – white supremacists in one way, and MLK in another. But the white moderates, consigning themselves to the utopia of the status quo, decide that keeping social peace is more important than achieving justice. Constantly pushing the day of judgement off reveals how the white moderate “feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom” (3). Again, it is paternalistic.

It bears understanding that injustice is rarely an active rejection of justice – no, it is far more often a pervasive dismissal of justice; It is the refusal to grant full justice because, if one were to do so, one might be labeled an extremist. The white moderate’s position thus becomes cowardice dressed up as realism.

I am not implying that Niebuhr is the white moderate, to be clear. At its best Moral Man represents a measured approach to justice for radicals. However, because it lacks sufficient hope, moderates and violent people alike commandeer it so as to make an apology their injustices.

The fundamental difference in Niebuhr and King’s position is not that one is a rule follower and the other is not – both have no problem transgressing laws. Neither denies the depravity of man, either, as they both dignify each human yet remain realistic about their behavior. No, their primary difference comes in what they believe hope to be. Niebuhr preemptively assumes the worst of humanity, which is why he justifies violence. Who can blame him, really, with the context of World War II? If left up to fate, Niebuhr believes evil will win out unless good people commit immoral acts to maintain peace. But King, on the other hand, possesses a radical hope for a new world. Such a hope does not deny the present’s existence, but rather breaks down the eschatological division of time. As Moltmann says,

“Does this hope cheat man of the happiness of the present? How could it do so!... Expectation makes life good, for in expectation man can accept his whole present and find joy not only in its joy but in its sorrow… Thus hope goes on its way through the midst of happiness and pain, because in the promises of God is can see a future also for the transient, the dying and the dead. This is why it can be said that living without hope is like no longer living. Hell is hopelessness, and it is not for nothing that at the entrance to Dante’s hell there stand the words ‘Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.’ An acceptance of the present which cannot and will not see the dying of the present is an illusion and a frivolity – and one which cannot be grounded on eternity either” (Theology of Hope 32).

I do not mean to characterize Niebuhr as living in hell, as Moltmann puts it. I mean only that I cannot quite find hope in what he says. What he says makes logical sense, and maybe they were good for the US in the Nazi age. But his realism has become a self-fulfilling prophecy throughout the 21st century as US domination has expanded across the globe.

It’s not that Niebuhr does not possess hope – he maintained a political ideology of hope throughout his life, favoring social welfare programs and safety nets. Rather it’s that he remains pessimistic about the ability for hope at the state level. Maybe I am a naive idealist, but if political entities require us to negotiate that hope, then I want no part in them. Never stop fighting, but likewise never compromise the Christian witness – That is whay makes MLK’s battle so extremely inspiring. He never gave up, he never backed down, yet he met people where they were at – not as a form of appeasement, but in order to bring about radical change in a pragmatic world.

I want to close with two quotes from MLK at the end of Letter from a Birmingham Jail:

“If I have said anything in this letter that is an understatement of the truth and is indicative of an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything in this letter that is an overstatement of the truth and is indicative of my having a patience that makes me patient with anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me” (6)

“So the question is not whether we will be extremist, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate, or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice, or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?” (4)

King could be wrong… But if he is, no one died because of it. So when it comes to justice, I must be an extremist for love. Hope in justice is the paradigm for MLK’s political action. So long are the days of pragmatism then! Let the atheists be pragmatic while we push back as hard as ever. To the Christian belongs hope, and such hope brings about the apocalypse of pragmatism.

Works Cited

Blake, John. “How Obama's Favorite Theologian Shaped His First Year in Office.” CNN, Cable News Network, 5 Feb. 2010, https://www.cnn.com/2010/POLITICS/02/05/Obama.theologian/index.html.

Brooks, David. “Obama, Gospel and Verse.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 26 Apr. 2007, https://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/26/opinion/26brooks.html.

Haddad, Mohammed. “Infographic: History of US Interventions in the Past 70 Years.” Infographic News | Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 10 Sept. 2021, https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/9/10/infographic-us-military-presence-around-the-world-interactive.

King, Martin Luther. “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” 16 Apr. 1963, Birmingham, Alabama.

Moltmann, Jurgen. Theology of Hope. Scm Press, 2002.

Niebuhr, Reinhold. Moral Man and Immoral Society: A Study in Ethics and Politics. Westminster John Knox Press, 2021.

Obama, Barack. “Remarks by the President on the Middle East and North Africa.” National Archives and Records Administration, National Archives and Records Administration, https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2011/05/19/remarks-president-middle-east-and-north-africa.

Roth, Kenneth. “Barack Obama's Shaky Legacy on Human Rights.” Human Rights Watch, 28 Oct. 2020, https://www.hrw.org/news/2017/01/09/barack-obamas-shaky-legacy-human-rights.