Murder in the Cathedral

The story set forth in "Murder in the Cathedral" by T.S. Eliot depicts the inner struggle of the Archbishop Thomas Beckett as he decides whether or not to overthrow the King and estranged friend. He debates overthrowing the King because he feels that it is immorally wrong, but he also feels that not doing so would leave the thousands of people under the King's control in desperation and agony for more years to come. In deciding not to overthrow the King, Archbishop Beckett shows the human nature that people think of themselves first before anyone else. This is greatly supported throughout the text of the play.

            Pride is all that controls Beckett as he makes his decision. When Beckett arrives in Canterbury, he is soon "greeted" by four tempters. Each tempter attempts to persuade Beckett to defy his principle in unique ways. The first tells him to enter a life of pleasure, the second a life of power, the third of an overthrow of power. He stands resolute to his principles, but the fourth and final tempter makes Beckett truly question what he wants. He tells Beckett, "You wind the thread of eternal life and death." (37) By this statement, the tempter is telling Beckett that he must overthrow the King not for power, but to help the disaffected citizens as a martyr and more importantly for Beckett to thus achieve a path to heavenly glory. This type of immortal deference that he would receive, being heralded as the freer of the people, consequently brings him closest to the edge of betrayal. As the Archbishop, he already lives with a title of prominence, but he must also abide to the live of a devout Christian, i.e. of a humble and modest man. By being the modern Prometheus and "bringing light" to the people as well as becoming the King, his new reputation would far supersede that of an Archbishop. Nevertheless, he refuses to overthrow the King because he thinks of the long-term effects of betrayal. If he were to overthrow the King, his people would at first be happy of a new order, but they would soon be fearful that a sudden overthrow of power makes King Beckett a tyrant with an iron fist. Then there would likely be another coup d' etat, and King Beckett would be infamously known as the King that could not control his people. This is a risk far too great for Beckett, thus he refuses.

            When Beckett is approached by the knights in Act II, he is accused of committing treason. He speaks with them in regards to the coronation of King Henry's son, but he states that only the Pope can make amends; the power is not his. He condemns them to leave, almost embarrassed that he does not have the power to make the decision to absolve them. The knights then say that they will return with swords to the cathedral. The priests present tell him to close the doors of the cathedral to protect him. He refuses, saying, "I give my life...I command it. OPEN THE DOOR!" (74) This dramatic act of sacrificing himself to the knights for honor and valor is very symbolic of the type of character Beckett possesses. By dying by the hands of the knights, Beckett is indirectly dying by the hands of King Henry. This further supports the type of tyrant hold he has over the people of Canterbury, which they have been plagued with for years. Furthermore, by dying with open arms to the knights, he is glorifying himself almost as a Christ figure, thus saving the Pope, his fellow priests, and even all the people of Canterbury. His life is sacrificed for everyone to see so that all others may live, and for that, they will honor him forever. After his death, the chorus sings of his death as, "An instant eternity of evil and wrong...the whole world that is wholly foul," (78) further emphasizing the idea that Beckett was an honorable man, and his death is a loss to the entire world.

            Clearly, Archbishop Beckett's actions are all done in a way so as to glorify himself. He does not attack the tempters for speaking of treason, nor does he run away or kill himself when the knights say they will return for him because he would be a coward or a fool. This shrewd human nature of benefitting oneself is apparent in nature, and, more importantly, in life. A person is born alone, and at the end of one's own life, he/she dies alone. In politics, the citizens of a nation care more about improving their own nation through domestic policies than helping alien strangers in foreign politics. The question then arises: can you deny your supreme care for yourself? There are millions of starving people, yet you can eat in a restaurant. People have no homes, while you are in a heated home. When does the line for self-satisfaction end? Does it ever?