Faith and Politics – The CSM Tawney Memorial Lecture 2007, The Chapel, Westminster Methodist Central Hall.

Introduction

Thank you. Thank you Bev for that very kind introduction and to you, Jenni, for that wonderful opening - for reminding us of those crucial and important struggles in South Africa. And thanks to Andrew and to CSM for inviting me to give this year’s Tawney lecture.

This is a hugely humbling moment for me and I hope I can convey that during the course of what I have to say, but you’ll understand that this is a long way from where I started out. I suppose I should begin by saying that faith and politics have always been central to who I am as a person.

Faith because – like a lot of Black Britons of my generation, religion and Christianity were not a choice in my mother’s Caribbean household. I learnt about God the traditional way: I was forced to. Sundays began with the discomfort of being dragged out of the house, in stay-pressed trousers, sharp nylon shirt and polished shoes. There are lots of reasons sometimes why I struggle to forgive my mother for that, but actually I am so grateful for that wonderful warmth of fellowship that I found in my local church in Tottenham, a fellowship that has stayed with me and that  inspires me as a politician.

So that’s the faith, but also the politics, because my family’s politics were forged in the liberation struggles sweeping across post-colonial Africa and the Caribbean, and much of the world at that key moment in the 50s and 60s,  but also the evangelical proclamation of civil rights and Martin Luther King’s words.

So in a sense, that’s where my Christian socialism comes from, those values. These were the values that sustained us, first through the harsh times of Enoch Powell and later the economic conditions of Thatcher’s Britain. Making the Labour Party - the party that fought with us time and time again in our workplaces, side by side in opposing Apartheid, and fighting for the Race Relations Act  - our natural home.

So I am so pleased to be here, and very proud to be both a Christian and a Socialist.

Committed to progressive politics and the ideals of equal worth, personal freedom and social justice.

I suppose it’s right to say that my faith, which was a matter of obligation in my childhood, has now evolved into something much more complicated as an adult.

So I accepted the invitation to give this lecture - choosing faith and politics as my title - neither because I am a perfect Christian or a perfect politician, but rather because of my belief in public service, putting your values into action, and the obligation of all of us to live up to the men and women whose commitment and courage, I believe, must inspire us anew.

The end of faith?

One of those men was John Smith, who stood up to give this lecture 13 years ago. He inspired many of us with his ability to reconnect politics with morality, worldliness with idealism.

And few people then saw the relationship between his politics and his faith as symptomatic of a wider shift in society. They simply saw a remarkable politician, who happened also to be a committed Christian.

Three years later, I began my journey into public service - first, as a member of the Church of England’s Archbishops Council, and then seven years ago, when I entered Parliament.

At that time, commentators widely predicted that faith was dead. They said faith was marginal, that church audiences were dwindling and that human reason, symbolized by the victory of liberal economics, would be the sole source of public decision-making in the future.

In short, people wondered whether religion would ever again be relevant to our national political conversation.

Well, as we enter 2007, those doubts have been decisively answered. Faith is once again a powerful force in the world around us. Talked about and debated, not just in churches, mosques and synagogues, but also in the corridors of power.

But for progressives, the way those doubts have been answered seems to call attention to a much graver challenge.

The question, for many people, has become whether faith – at least when manifested publicly – is now the enemy of the progressive centre-left project.

The return of faith

For 150 years, progressive politics and faith have been inextricably intertwined, from the “civic gospel” of Joseph Chamberlain, to the founders of the CSM, to Martin Luther King and the civil rights movement.

But now – all around the world – whenever faith meets public debate, it seems to do so on terms which are deeply detrimental to progressive politics.

Since September 11th, conflicts involving religion have clearly dominated our political life. The challenge of Islamic terrorism, and the language of the war on terror have helped to change the tone of politics.

In the US, “God and guns” have kept the Republicans in the political ascendancy and there are serious concerns about a creeping politicisation of religion.

In the Middle East, where a just settlement is desperately needed for ordinary Palestinians and Israelis, faith seems only to stand in the way of progress.

And in this country, from the recent controversy over Catholic adoption agencies, to the reaction to Jerry Springer the Opera and the cartoons depicting the prophet Mohammed, faith has become a new battleground in politics.

Yet central to the clash of faith and progressive politics, is the paradox that decoupling the spiritual and the temporal looks increasingly difficult in modern societies.

Yes, on the one hand, the wider public shows a growing sense of unease about the role of faith in society. More people in Britain think religion causes harm than believe it does good, according to a recent poll.

But on the other hand, walling off people’s own values, beliefs and identities is not so simple.

All of these issues – morality, community, culture – fuse to create the politics of identity. The politics of “who am I?”, “what should I do with my life?” and “what is my place in the world?”

These are the questions of a generation born into a world of huge social, economic and technological change. A generation faced with uncertainty and dislocation from old traditions.

And as people ask themselves who they really are – and what they want to be – faith is helping some find the answers.

Faith is once again centre-stage because all of the world’s great religions are playing a role in the politics of identity at the turn of the twenty-first century.

But most Christians – like most Muslims, Hindus, Jews and Sikhs – don’t enter public debate to drown out the views of others; they do it to bring their values and ideas into the debate.

Yet it is clear that these changes demand a response that helps address the tensions between progressive politics and faith-based identities.

Our response needs to recognise people’s right to contribute to public debate, but also reinforce their responsibility to engage with, and respect the views of others.

Faith and public debate

So our movement must be clear and unequivocal to people of faith. There are three conditions necessary when entering these debates.

First, we each have the right to hold and express our own views.

So I will always be clear that homosexuality is not a sin. I believe that there is a place for women amongst our very senior clergy. And surely, as a Labour movement, we have not come so far in our fight - for equality for those historically discriminated against - that we would allow the rolling back of anyone’s rights to protection under the law.

These views mean I will agree with some people of faith and disagree with others – and that discussion will continue.

Second, freedom comes with great responsibility. Freedom of expression does not make respect for one another redundant. It makes it more important.

So when ordinary Muslims are vilified for the actions of a few extremists, that is not responsible and not acceptable. When faith groups are mocked or disparaged in the media when they enter the debate, that is not responsible and not acceptable.

Having the right to be offensive does not mean that it is right to be offensive

And third, when anyone – whether religious or not – seeks to enshrine their own position in law, they must enter public debate in the spirit of debate and dialogue.

And that means that arguments must be put forward in terms that make sense to others. Assertion, based on religious doctrine or anything else, is not enough.

Universal laws require reasoning that may not be shared by us all, but is at least grounded in universal principles. And as the US philosopher William James put it, ‘God should start a conversation rather than finish it’.

So that’s one half, it seems to me, of the bargain.

The other half is that when people and communities of faith take part in debates on these terms, their participation should be as welcome as anyone else’s.

In an age when we worry about the perversion of peaceful religions and declining participation in politics, we should welcome rather than worry about the plurality of voices in a debate.

We should recognise that bringing people into mainstream debate is an important way of combating extremism, not a sop to it. Because the quality of the public realm itself - the quality of our shared institutions, public spaces, a culture of engagement - are all highly influential in determining our capacity to thrive, both as diverse individuals and as diverse communities. 

I’m required so often, as a Minister and a Member of Parliament, to spend time in different communities across this country, with young angry men. And they can be young angry white men, young angry black men, or young angry Muslim men. I have to say that I can remember when I was young and angry. I was angry at Apartheid. I was angry at being stopped and searched. I was angry at some of the policies of Margaret Thatcher, but I had a place to channel that anger. It was the Labour Party and many, many of the socialists, mainly teachers and priests, that supported me to direct that anger to democratic purposes. So we must welcome the plurality of the discussion in public debate because the converse to that is usually extremism

Beyond the rules of engagement

So I am not angry, or pessimistic, or downcast about the conversation between faith and politics in the coming years.

There may be more turbulence ahead. The politics of identity clearly challenges us all – tearing up the old certainties, building new connections, new loyalties, new motivations.

But in the long-term, there is a settlement that I believe can work for everyone. We neither can remove faith from politics, nor should we aim to.

But I don’t think we can be satisfied with that. Because there is a much, much bigger set of questions that we need to ask ourselves as a society.

We need to ask not just who has the right to speak, and when – but what the debate is for. When all the talking is finished, and the ink has dried on the statute book, we need to ask what kind of society we are going to live in.

Social values

As every generation does, we need to ask not just by which laws – but also by which values – are we are going to live.

After ten years of a Labour government, it is time not just for the Party to take stock and prepare itself for the future, but also for the country as a whole to find a renewed sense of direction.

There have been huge achievements over the last ten years. The millions back into work. The children lifted out of poverty. The regeneration of our cities. The cancellation of debt in the developing world.

But this must be the moment where, as a society, we choose not to look back – but instead to re-imagine the future. What can we do next? What more can we achieve? How much further can we go?

These questions have always been at the heart of Christian socialism and this movement. Tawney’s views were deeply rooted in an ethical account of society. They started from how society was, and explored how it should be. He wrote that:

‘The essence of all morality is this: to believe that every human being is of infinite importance’

What could be more relevant today?

We live in a time of unprecedented wealth, of endless possibility. We’ve discovered new planets, cured polio. We’ve mapped the human genome.

We now know more than ever about the foundations of a strong economy than perhaps any governments have known across the world in our history. We know about the causes of poverty. About the components of well-being. Who knows what we’ll achieve in the next hundred years?

But just as Tawney himself did, we need to ask ourselves if we really treat every human life as if it has infinite importance.

Can this be true in a society where the life chances of two children – born just one bed away from each other – can be so different? Not because of their talents, but because of their backgrounds?

Or when life expectancy can differ so sharply not just from one country to another – or even one city to another – but from one part of one city to another?

So I am also clear that we must not stop here. We must also ask ourselves not just how we tackle material poverty, which was the subject of my pamphlet last year, but how we address the poverty of experience that we see across society.

Crosland was right when he said that a good filing system was not the right signpost to a socialist Utopia.

We must value the quality of people’s everyday lives, the strength of their relationships, the social fabric and the support that they get from their families and communities.

The importance of culture

For, my friends, if the twentieth century was essentially struggle between those that believed in markets and those that believed in the state, then as we move into the twenty-first century, recognizing the limits of both the market and the state - future policy comes back to culture – from anti-social behaviour, to social cohesion; to immigration and migration, from identity to environmental stewardship - it is our influence on the culture around us that is our new battleground.

The brutal gun violence that stained the first months of 2007 was a reminder of how far we have still to go.

It showed that we can put structures, and the processes, and the rewards, and the punishments in place, but we must tend to people’s souls if we are ever going to achieve all we want to together.

So of course the young men in our cities desperately need access to quality education and employment.

But more than this, we need to create a culture of hope and aspiration, where the values of fraternity and self help aren’t perverted by a materialistic street culture.

Because the events of those weeks in January and February I believe that they were symbolic of the battle between two units of belonging in society: the family on one hand and the gang on the other.

The weakness of one leads to the rise of the other. Because when families and communities don’t provide a sense of belonging and value and empowerment, then the mentality of gang culture suddenly becomes attractive. I’ve seen this, and I’ve seen this throughout my whole life. Gangs make young men feel powerful and important. And their consequences can be disastrous.

But if we want families to win this battle for belonging then we have to help make that possible.

And addressing this poverty of experience means more than generalisations about feckless fathers.

Because we in this room already know what works in tackling the problems of the inner city head on. I have been clear that I think we need to move forward in five key areas: education, parenting, community, employment and a culture of achievement.

And it is clear to me that faith communities can play a huge role in contributing to this:

Valuing family

Complex challenges require complex solutions. So let us not fall into a trap of demonising any one type of family or community.

Valuing the family and the importance of parents bringing up their children seems to me to go beyond tax breaks for marriage and vague calls for couples to stay together. It is love that creates and sustains a family – not credits and allowances.

Those tax breaks failed in the past. They ignored the poorest in society, marginalizing and discriminating against one third of a generation - almost four million children, whose parents were deemed unworthy of support.

These policies ignore crucial issues like domestic violence – situations in which it can be a profoundly moral choice of a mother or a father to move children away from a dangerous home.

And they ignore the enormous love and attention that families of all shapes and sizes can provide, whatever their situation.

When I was growing up, raised by a very loving single mother, I saw how hard it can be to maintain a job and bring up children. It was tough, but it was the values of faith, community and a sense of shared humanity, instilled at a young age, that inspired me to achieve all I could for myself and for others.

And this shared humanity, a sense that we are all God’s children, should now inspire our response to the challenges of the inner city. As Arthur Miller suggested, these young people are all our sons.

And for that reason, we all must take responsibility for making change happen in society.

But we should be asking more profound questions as well.

We should be recognising what anyone who is part of a family knows: that time itself can be the most valuable commodity of all. The time to sit down with one another. To care for one another. To work through problems and difficult periods together.

So this isn’t just about the behaviour of a few irresponsible fathers; it is about a much deeper set of questions about what we all value and take responsibility for. And it’s also, I think, about a key political question of our time. It’s something about the limits of the market.

Because for all their uses, markets left to their own devices don’t have the answers to these questions.

So politicians should be very wary about waxing lyrical about the wonders of the market and of the family all at the same time. Sometimes we have to value one above the other. There are limits to what the markets can achieve and we should be comfortable with saying that.

And so when I talk about the poverty of experience, it is not just a just a question of childhood either.

We cannot be content with addressing the issue of pensions without also reconsidering our entire attitude towards pensioners. Who offers the time and the compassion to care for older people? And how much do we, as a society, really value that care? As a society we should start valuing our elders in the same way that we value our children.

Across society, from relationships between communities to relationships between generations, can we honestly say that a care ethic goes right to the heart of what we truly value?

Role models and government

Who are our national heroes? Who do we celebrate?

Who dominates the newspapers? Jade Goody? Or remarkable people like Reverend Nims Obunge? A man who founded the Haringey Peace Alliance in my constituency, who led thousands of people to march from Peckham to Brixton last month?

I have marched alongside him and he is inspirational. Men and women like him are the heroes of everyday life. Their effort, their compassion, their determination is what we must value, it seems to me, as a society.

Now, don’t misunderstand me: I never underestimate here the importance of government in any of this. Government can set the tone in a society and achieve, of course, much itself.

Growing up in Tottenham in the 70s and 80s, I saw the damage that is done to people’s lives when government neglects its responsibilities and claims there is no such thing as society.

It is unforgivable that under the last government more than 200 children fell into poverty each day. I saw the waste and the suffering that comes when we forget that government is there not just to protect us from war, but also from illness and poverty.

If governments really value care, then they provide for maternity and paternity leave. If governments reject the commercialisation of childhood, then they recognise the limits of the market. If governments believe in equality, then they offer tax credits to those that need them, and they bring in the minimum wage, increase child benefits, and all the rest.

But I also know this: that government alone can never be enough. As Beveridge wrote,

“The making of the good society depends not on the state but on citizens, acting individually or in free association with one another”.

Beveridge recognised that a thriving society is not an alternative to a responsible government. It must be a partner to it.

Partner, not alternative

In modern Britain, there are those who will tell you that rolling forward civil society means rolling back the state. They will argue that the state crowds out other players – that faith groups, NGOs and an active state cannot coexist together.

But we must fight this at every turn. This is not Victorian England. At that time, the charitable sector stepped in to address some of the damage done by a negligent state. It reacted to the squalor, the malnourishment and the misery of the poor.

But that is no vision for the twenty-first century. We must be more ambitious than that.

We need to rediscover a heritage that the Right ignores, and the Left forgets all too readily: a tradition of friendly societies, of co-operatives, of mutual associations, of trade unions, of community groups: of socially minded groups epitomizing the spirit of social solidarity, giving expression to a fervent belief in the equal worth of all.

We need to re-ignite that spirit. These groups are the companions of the welfare state, not an alternative to it. And they embody the idea contributing to a good society means much more than the choice that you make at ballot box.  Our democracy is not built solely on voting on polling day: it is to be found in those associations and those community groups.

The vital role of faith groups

And that’s why the contribution that faith groups all around the country are already making is so important. And here I am talking about:

The people driving this work are at the cutting edge of social change. Of practical action. Of campaigning to raise people’s sights beyond the small part of the world that we each inhabit.

So my message today, to people from all faiths, is that they should have confidence about their role in public life and they should be proud of the contribution that they make to society every day.

But more than this, it is that people – of all faiths and no faith – can be part of a social movement which challenges all of us, including government, to reconsider what we really value in society; and mobilise ourselves to achieve it.

One of the great figures in Christian Socialist history is Bishop Trevor Huddlestone, the Anglican monk who, at the age of 30, found himself vicar of Sophiatown, not far from what is now Soweto, in South Africa.  From there, he watched the creation of the Apartheid regime, and became one of the leading figures in the fight against it. 

As he said in an interview late in his life:

“There is no question whatsoever of compromise at any level because apartheid is the source of everything that is destructive - it proves itself in the way it destroys the lives of people…We have to have the political will to recognise a moral evil and to determine that it is wiped off the face of the earth.”

Huddlestone was also known for his celebration of diverse views, regularly holding seminars and dialogues with many different viewpoints, including Marxists and atheists, campaigning and marching with many different people holding different beliefs to his own. 

But his faith led him to argue the need for “the political will to recognise a moral evil”.

It might take some courage to use the word evil in today’s political climate.  But it is worth reflecting on which issues in the world deserve the same kind of focus that Huddlestone gave to ending apartheid.

A social movement for change

So understanding the terms on which debate can take place is important. But using that debate to help bring about change in the world matters at least as much.

The values which unite all faiths – the equal worth of all, compassion and respect, responsibility to ourselves and to each other – offer many of the answers to our greatest problems.

As we look forward, it is organisations like this one that can lead the debate and bring about real social change.

Because what you do today, tomorrow, next week and next year is central to achieving everything that Tawney envisaged and that Christian Socialists have always striven for.

Thank you very much indeed.