THE GRAND INQUISITOR By Feodor Dostoevsky

Thine image in his heart. But hast Thou never dreamt of the

probability, nay, of the certainty, of that same man one day

rejected finally, and controverting even Thine image and Thy

truth, once he would find himself laden with such a terrible

burden as freedom of choice? That a time would surely come when

men would exclaim that Truth and Light cannot be in Thee, for no

one could have left them in a greater perplexity and mental

suffering than Thou has done, lading them with so many cares and

insoluble problems. Thus, it is Thyself who hast laid the

foundation for the destruction of Thine own kingdom and no one

but Thou is to be blamed for it.

“‘Meantime, every chance of success was offered Thee. There are

three Powers, three unique Forces upon earth, capable of

conquering for ever by charming the conscience of these weak

rebels–men–for their own good; and these Forces are: Miracle,

Mystery and Authority. Thou hast rejected all the three, and thus

wert the first to set them an example. When the terrible and all-

wise spirit placed Thee on a pinnacle of the temple and said unto

Thee, “If Thou be the son of God, cast Thyself down, for it is

written, He shall give His angels charge concerning Thee: and in

their hands they shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou dash

Thy foot against a stone!”–for thus Thy faith in Thy father

should have been made evident, Thou didst refuse to accept his

suggestion and didst not follow it. Oh, undoubtedly, Thou didst

act in this with all the magnificent pride of a god, but then men

–that weak and rebel race–are they also gods, to understand

Thy refusal? Of course, Thou didst well know that by taking one

single step forward, by making the slightest motion to throw

Thyself down, Thou wouldst have tempted “the Lord Thy God,” lost

suddenly all faith in Him, and dashed Thyself to atoms against

that same earth which Thou camest to save, and thus wouldst have

allowed the wise spirit which tempted Thee to triumph and

rejoice. But, then, how many such as Thee are to be found on this

globe, I ask Thee? Couldst Thou ever for a moment imagine that

men would have the same strength to resist such a temptation? Is

human nature calculated to reject miracle, and trust, during the

most terrible moments in life, when the most momentous, painful

and perplexing problems struggle within man’s soul, to the free

decisions of his heart for the true solution? Oh, Thou knewest

well that that action of Thine would remain recorded in books for

ages to come, reaching to the confines of the globe, and Thy hope

was, that following Thy example, man would remain true to his

God, without needing any miracle to keep his faith alive! But

Thou knewest not, it seems, that no sooner would man reject

miracle than he would reject God likewise, for he seeketh less

God than “a sign” from Him. And thus, as it is beyond the power

of man to remain without miracles, so, rather than live without,

he will create for himself new wonders of his own making; and he

will bow to and worship the soothsayer’s miracles, the old

witch’s sorcery, were he a rebel, a heretic, and an atheist a

hundred times over. Thy refusal to come down from the cross when

people, mocking and wagging their heads were saying to Thee–

“Save Thyself if Thou be the son of God, and we will believe in

Thee,” was due to the same determination–not to enslave man

through miracle, but to obtain faith in Thee freely and apart

from any miraculous influence. Thou thirstest for free and

uninfluenced love, and refuses the passionate adoration of the

slave before a Potency which would have subjected his will once

for ever. Thou judgest of men too highly here, again, for though

rebels they be, they are born slaves and nothing more. Behold,

and judge of them once more, now that fifteen centuries have

elapsed since that moment. Look at them, whom Thou didst try to

elevate unto Thee! I swear man is weaker and lower than Thou hast

ever imagined him to be! Can he ever do that which Thou art said

to have accomplished? By valuing him so highly Thou hast acted as

if there were no love for him in Thine heart, for Thou hast

demanded of him more than he could ever give–Thou, who lovest

him more than Thyself! Hadst Thou esteemed him less, less wouldst

Thou have demanded of him, and that would have been more like

love, for his burden would have been made thereby lighter. Man is

weak and cowardly. What matters it, if he now riots and rebels

throughout the world against our will and power, and prides

himself upon that rebellion? It is but the petty pride and vanity

of a school-boy. It is the rioting of little children, getting up

a mutiny in the class-room and driving their schoolmaster out of

it. But it will not last long, and when the day of their triumph

is over, they will have to pay dearly for it. They will destroy

the temples and raze them to the ground, flooding the earth with

blood. But the foolish children will have to learn some day that,

rebels though they be and riotous from nature, they are too weak

to maintain the spirit of mutiny for any length of time. Suffused

with idiotic tears, they will confess that He who created them

rebellious undoubtedly did so but to mock them. They will

pronounce these words in despair, and such blasphemous utterances

will but add to their misery–for human nature cannot endure

blasphemy, and takes her own revenge in the end.

“‘And thus, after all Thou has suffered for mankind and its

freedom, the present fate of men may be summed up in three words:

Unrest, Confusion, Misery! Thy great prophet John records in his

vision, that he saw, during the first resurrection of the chosen

servants of God–“the number of them which were sealed” in their

foreheads, “twelve thousand” of every tribe. But were they,

indeed, as many? Then they must have been gods, not men. They had

shared Thy Cross for long years, suffered scores of years’ hunger

and thirst in dreary wildernesses and deserts, feeding upon

locusts and roots–and of these children of free love for Thee,

and self-sacrifice in Thy name, Thou mayest well feel proud. But

remember that these are but a few thousands–of gods, not men;

and how about all others? And why should the weakest be held

guilty for not being able to endure what the strongest have

endured? Why should a soul incapable of containing such terrible

gifts be punished for its weakness? Didst Thou really come to,

and for, the “elect” alone? If so, then the mystery will remain

for ever mysterious to our finite minds. And if a mystery, then

were we right to proclaim it as one, and preach it, teaching them

that neither their freely given love to Thee nor freedom of

conscience were essential, but only that incomprehensible mystery

which they must blindly obey even against the dictates of their

conscience. Thus did we. We corrected and improved Thy teaching

and based it upon “Miracle, Mystery, and Authority.” And men

rejoiced at finding themselves led once more like a herd of

cattle, and at finding their hearts at last delivered of the

terrible burden laid upon them by Thee, which caused them so much

suffering. Tell me, were we right in doing as we did. Did not we

show our great love for humanity, by realizing in such a humble

spirit its helplessness, by so mercifully lightening its great

burden, and by permitting and remitting for its weak nature every

sin, provided it be committed with our authorization? For what,

then, hast Thou come again to trouble us in our work? And why

lookest Thou at me so penetratingly with Thy meek eyes, and in

such a silence? Rather shouldst Thou feel wroth, for I need not

Thy love, I reject it, and love Thee not, myself. Why should I

conceal the truth from Thee? I know but too well with whom I am

now talking! What I had to say was known to Thee before, I read

it in Thine eye. How should I conceal from Thee our secret? If

perchance Thou wouldst hear it from my own lips, then listen: We

are not with Thee, but with him, and that is our secret! For

centuries have we abandoned Thee to follow him, yes–eight

centuries. Eight hundred years now since we accepted from him the

gift rejected by Thee with indignation; that last gift which he

offered Thee from the high mountain when, showing all the

kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, he saith unto Thee:

“All these things will I give Thee, if Thou will fall down and

worship me!” We took Rome from him and the glaive of Caesar, and

declared ourselves alone the kings of this earth, its sole kings,

though our work is not yet fully accomplished. But who is to

blame for it? Our work is but in its incipient stage, but it is

nevertheless started. We may have long to wait until its

culmination, and mankind have to suffer much, but we shall reach

the goal some day, and become sole Caesars, and then will be the

time to think of universal happiness for men.

“‘Thou couldst accept the glaive of Caesar Thyself; why didst

Thou reject the offer? By accepting from the powerful spirit his

third offer Thou would have realized every aspiration man seeketh

for himself on earth; man would have found a constant object for

worship; one to deliver his conscience up to, and one that should

unite all together into one common and harmonious ant-hill; for

an innate necessity for universal union constitutes the third and

final affliction of mankind. Humanity as a whole has ever aspired

to unite itself universally. Many were, the great nations with

great histories, but the greater they were, the more unhappy they

felt, as they felt the stronger necessity of a universal union

among men. Great conquerors, like Timoor and Tchengis-Khan,

passed like a cyclone upon the face of the earth in their efforts

to conquer the universe, but even they, albeit unconsciously,

expressed the same aspiration towards universal and common union.

In accepting the kingdom of the world and Caesar’s purple, one

would found a universal kingdom and secure to mankind eternal

peace. And who can rule mankind better than those who have

possessed themselves of man’s conscience, and hold in their hand

man’s daily bread? Having accepted Caesar’s glaive and purple, we

had, of course, but to deny Thee, to henceforth follow him alone.

Oh, centuries of intellectual riot and rebellious free thought

are yet before us, and their science will end by anthropophagy,

for having begun to build their Babylonian tower without our help

they will have to end by anthropophagy. But it is precisely at

that time that the Beast will crawl up to us in full submission,

and lick the soles of our feet, and sprinkle them with tears of

blood and we shall sit upon the scarlet-colored Beast, and

lifting up high the golden cup “full of abomination and

filthiness,” shall show written upon it the word “Mystery”! But

it is only then that men will see the beginning of a kingdom of

peace and happiness. Thou art proud of Thine own elect, but Thou

has none other but these elect, and we–we will give rest to

all. But that is not the end. Many are those among thine elect

and the laborers of Thy vineyard, who, tired of waiting for Thy

coming, already have carried and will yet carry, the great fervor

of their hearts and their spiritual strength into another field,

and will end by lifting up against Thee Thine own banner of

freedom. But it is Thyself Thou hast to thank. Under our rule and

sway all will be happy, and will neither rebel nor destroy each

other as they did while under Thy free banner. Oh, we will take

good care to prove to them that they will become absolutely free

only when they have abjured their freedom in our favor and submit

to us absolutely. Thinkest Thou we shall be right or still lying?

They will convince themselves of our rightness, for they will see

what a depth of degrading slavery and strife that liberty of

Thine has led them into. Liberty, Freedom of Thought and

Conscience, and Science will lead them into such impassable

chasms, place them face to face before such wonders and insoluble

mysteries, that some of them–more rebellious and ferocious than

the rest–will destroy themselves; others–rebellious but weak

–will destroy each other; while the remainder, weak, helpless

and miserable, will crawl back to our feet and cry: “‘Yes; right

were ye, oh Fathers of Jesus; ye alone are in possession of His

mystery, and we return to you, praying that ye save us from

ourselves!” Receiving their bread from us, they will clearly see

that we take the bread from them, the bread made by their own

hands, but to give it back to them in equal shares and that

without any miracle; and having ascertained that, though we have

not changed stones into bread, yet bread they have, while every

other bread turned verily in their own hands into stones, they

will be only to glad to have it so. Until that day, they will

never be happy. And who is it that helped the most to blind them,

tell me? Who separated the flock and scattered it over ways

unknown if it be not Thee? But we will gather the sheep once more

and subject them to our will for ever. We will prove to them

their own weakness and make them humble again, whilst with Thee

they have learnt but pride, for Thou hast made more of them than

they ever were worth. We will give them that quiet, humble

happiness, which alone benefits such weak, foolish creatures as

they are, and having once had proved to them their weakness, they

will become timid and obedient, and gather around us as chickens

around their hen. They will wonder at and feel a superstitious

admiration for us, and feel proud to be led by men so powerful

and wise that a handful of them can subject a flock a thousand

millions strong. Gradually men will begin to fear us. They will

nervously dread our slightest anger, their intellects will

weaken, their eyes become as easily accessible to tears as those

of children and women; but we will teach them an easy transition

from grief and tears to laughter, childish joy and mirthful song.

Yes; we will make them work like slaves, but during their

recreation hours they shall have an innocent child-like life,

full of play and merry laughter. We will even permit them sin,

for, weak and helpless, they will feel the more love for us for

permitting them to indulge in it. We will tell them that every

kind of sin will be remitted to them, so long as it is done with

our permission; that we take all these sins upon ourselves, for

we so love the world, that we are even willing to sacrifice our

souls for its satisfaction. And, appearing before them in the

light of their scapegoats and redeemers, we shall be adored the

more for it. They will have no secrets from us. It will rest with

us to permit them to live with their wives and concubines, or to

forbid them, to have children or remain childless, either way

depending on the degree of their obedience to us; and they will

submit most joyfully to us the most agonizing secrets of their

souls–all, all will they lay down at our feet, and we will

authorize and remit them all in Thy name, and they will believe

us and accept our mediation with rapture, as it will deliver them

from their greatest anxiety and torture–that of having to

decide freely for themselves. And all will be happy, all except

the one or two hundred thousands of their rulers. For it is but

we, we the keepers of the great Mystery who will be miserable.

There will be thousands of millions of happy infants, and one

hundred thousand martyrs who have taken upon themselves the curse

of knowledge of good and evil. Peaceable will be their end, and

peacefully will they die, in Thy name, to find behind the portals

of the grave–but death. But we will keep the secret inviolate,

and deceive them for their own good with the mirage of life

eternal in Thy kingdom. For, were there really anything like life

beyond the grave, surely it would never fall to the lot of such

as they! People tell us and prophesy of Thy coming and triumphing

once more on earth; of Thy appearing with the army of Thy elect,

with Thy proud and mighty ones; but we will answer Thee that they

have saved but themselves while we have saved all. We are also

threatened with the great disgrace which awaits the whore,

“Babylon the great, the mother of harlots”–who sits upon the

Beast, holding in her hands the Mystery, the word written upon

her forehead; and we are told that the weak ones, the lambs shall

rebel against her and shall make her desolate and naked. But then

will I arise, and point out to Thee the thousands of millions of

happy infants free from any sin. And we who have taken their sins

upon us, for their own good, shall stand before Thee and say:

“Judge us if Thou canst and darest!” Know then that I fear Thee

not. Know that I too have lived in the dreary wilderness, where I

fed upon locusts and roots, that I too have blessed freedom with

which thou hast blessed men, and that I too have once prepared to

join the ranks of Thy elect, the proud and the mighty. But I

awoke from my delusion and refused since then to serve insanity.

I returned to join the legion of those who corrected Thy

mistakes. I left the proud and returned to the really humble, and

for their own happiness. What I now tell thee will come to pass,

and our kingdom shall be built, I tell Thee not later than

to-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock which at one simple

motion of my hand will rush to add burning coals to Thy stake, on

which I will burn Thee for having dared to come and trouble us in

our work. For, if there ever was one who deserved more than any

of the others our inquisitorial fires–it is Thee! To-morrow I

will burn Thee. Dixi’.”

Ivan paused. He had entered into the situation and had spoken

with great animation, but now he suddenly burst out laughing.

“But all that is absurd!” suddenly exclaimed Alyosha, who had

hitherto listened perplexed and agitated but in profound silence.

“Your poem is a glorification of Christ, not an accusation, as

you, perhaps, meant to be. And who will believe you when you

speak of ‘freedom’? Is it thus that we Christians must understand

it? It is Rome (not all Rome, for that would be unjust), but the

worst of the Roman Catholics, the Inquisitors and Jesuits, that

you have been exposing! Your Inquisitor is an impossible

character. What are these sins they are taking upon themselves?

Who are those keepers of mystery who took upon themselves a curse

for the good of mankind? Who ever met them? We all know the

Jesuits, and no one has a good word to say in their favor; but

when were they as you depict them? Never, never! The Jesuits are

merely a Romish army making ready for their future temporal

kingdom, with a mitred emperor–a Roman high priest at their

head. That is their ideal and object, without any mystery or

elevated suffering. The most prosaic thirsting for power, for the

sake of the mean and earthly pleasures of life, a desire to

enslave their fellow-men, something like our late system of

serfs, with themselves at the head as landed proprietors–that

is all that they can be accused of. They may not believe in God,

that is also possible, but your suffering Inquisitor is simply–

a fancy!”

“Hold, hold!” interrupted Ivan, smiling. “Do not be so excited. A

fancy, you say; be it so! Of course, it is a fancy. But stop. Do

you really imagine that all this Catholic movement during the

last centuries is naught but a desire for power for the mere

purpose of ‘mean pleasures’? Is this what your Father Paissiy

taught you?”

“No, no, quite the reverse, for Father Paissiy once told me

something very similar to what you yourself say, though, of

course, not that–something quite different,” suddenly added

Alexis, blushing.

“A precious piece of information, notwithstanding your ‘not

that.’ I ask you, why should the Inquisitors and the Jesuits of

your imagination live but for the attainment of ‘mean material

pleasures?’ Why should there not be found among them one single

genuine martyr suffering under a great and holy idea and loving

humanity with all his heart? Now let us suppose that among all

these Jesuits thirsting and hungering but after ‘mean material

pleasures’ there may be one, just one like my old Inquisitor, who

had himself fed upon roots in the wilderness, suffered the

tortures of damnation while trying to conquer flesh, in order to

become free and perfect, but who had never ceased to love

humanity, and who one day prophetically beheld the truth; who saw

as plain as he could see that the bulk of humanity could never be

happy under the old system, that it was not for them that the

great Idealist had come and died and dreamt of His Universal

Harmony. Having realized that truth, he returned into the world

and joined–intelligent and practical people. Is this so

impossible?”

“Joined whom? What intelligent and practical people?” exclaimed

Alyosha quite excited. “Why should they be more intelligent than

other men, and what secrets and mysteries can they have? They

have neither. Atheism and infidelity is all the secret they have.

Your Inquisitor does not believe in God, and that is all the

Mystery there is in it!”

“It may be so. You have guessed rightly there. And it is so, and

that is his whole secret; but is this not the acutest sufferings

for such a man as he, who killed all his young life in asceticism

in the desert, and yet could not cure himself of his love towards

his fellowmen? Toward the end of his life he becomes convinced

that it is only by following the advice of the great and terrible

spirit that the fate of these millions of weak rebels, these

‘half-finished samples of humanity created in mockery’ can be

made tolerable. And once convinced of it, he sees as clearly

that to achieve that object, one must follow blindly the guidance

of the wise spirit, the fearful spirit of death and destruction,

hence accept a system of lies and deception and lead humanity

consciously this time toward death and destruction, and moreover,

be deceiving them all the while in order to prevent them from

realizing where they are being led, and so force the miserable

blind men to feel happy, at least while here on earth. And note

this: a wholesale deception in the name of Him, in whose ideal

the old man had so passionately, so fervently, believed during

nearly his whole life! Is this no suffering? And were such a

solitary exception found amidst, and at the head of, that army

‘that thirsts for power but for the sake of the mean pleasures of

life,’ think you one such man would not suffice to bring on a

tragedy? Moreover, one single man like my Inquisitor as a

principal leader, would prove sufficient to discover the real

guiding idea of the Romish system with all its armies of Jesuits,

the greatest and chiefest conviction that the solitary type

described in my poem has at no time ever disappeared from among

the chief leaders of that movement. Who knows but that terrible

old man, loving humanity so stubbornly and in such an original

way, exists even in our days in the shape of a whole host of such

solitary exceptions, whose existence is not due to mere chance,

but to a well-defined association born of mutual consent, to a

secret league, organized several centuries back, in order to

guard the Mystery from the indiscreet eyes of the miserable and

weak people, and only in view of their own happiness? And so it

is; it cannot be otherwise. I suspect that even Masons have some

such Mystery underlying the basis of their organization, and that

it is just the reason why the Roman Catholic clergy hate them so,

dreading to find in them rivals, competition, the dismemberment

of the unity of the idea, for the realization of which one flock

and one Shepherd are needed. However, in defending my idea, I

look like an author whose production is unable to stand

criticism. Enough of this.”

“You are, perhaps, a Mason yourself!” exclaimed Alyosha. “You do

not believe in God,” he added, with a note of profound sadness in

his voice. But suddenly remarking that his brother was looking at

him with mockery, “How do you mean then to bring your poem to a

close?” he unexpectedly enquired, casting his eyes downward, “or

does it break off here?”

“My intention is to end it with the following scene: Having

disburdened his heart, the Inquisitor waits for some time to hear

his prisoner speak in His turn. His silence weighs upon him. He

has seen that his captive has been attentively listening to him

all the time, with His eyes fixed penetratingly and softly on the

face of his jailer, and evidently bent upon not replying to him.

The old man longs to hear His voice, to hear Him reply; better

words of bitterness and scorn than His silence. Suddenly He

rises; slowly and silently approaching the Inquisitor, He bends

towards him and softly kisses the bloodless, four-score and-ten-

year-old lips. That is all the answer. The Grand Inquisitor

shudders. There is a convulsive twitch at the corner of his

mouth. He goes to the door, opens it, and addressing Him, ‘Go,’

he says, ‘go, and return no more… do not come again… never,

never!’ and–lets Him out into the dark night. The prisoner

vanishes.”

“And the old man?”

“The kiss burns his heart, but the old man remains firm in his

own ideas and unbelief.”

“And you, together with him? You too!” despairingly exclaimed

Alyosha, while Ivan burst into a still louder fit of laughter.