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COVER
STORY
The special relationship between Blair
and God
The Prime Minister’s religious faith
is acknowledged, says Peter Oborne, but it masks a remarkable
doctrinal elasticity
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It was an unusual preliminary to the war. No British prime minister
before Tony Blair has set the scene for a military campaign with a
visit to the Vatican for a blessing by the Pope. Admittedly it was
not a state visit. Tony Blair’s trip to the Vatican was apparently
in the capacity of the spouse of a practising Catholic. Nevertheless,
it was very striking indeed that the Prime Minister, visibly exhausted
by a demanding schedule, should find the time on the eve of war.
It is now conventionally held that Tony Blair is the most religious
prime minister since Gladstone. ‘There is no doubt,’ writes the Sunday
Telegraph columnist Matthew d’Ancona, ‘that he seeks authorisation
for war, as well as personal spiritual solace, in the Gospels.’ D’Ancona
is one of many who see Blair’s Christian faith as the key to understanding
his personality as prime minister, insisting that it lends a special
moral dimension to everything he does, setting him apart from less
devout politicians. D’Ancona, who has spoken at length to Blair about
his religion, asserts that the Kosovo war also was inspired by the
Prime Minister’s Christian commitment. Indeed, Tony Blair was the
first to use the term ‘crusade’ in connection with the Balkans, a
regrettable phrase later appropriated by President Bush in the aftermath
of 11 September.
Religion is a difficult subject. History shows that it has served
as a cloak for the most monstrous abuse, as well as inspiring great
holiness and simple goodness. Tony Blair’s Christianity has always
been taken on trust. But the Prime Minister asserts, time and again,
that this war goes to the core of his personal convictions. So what
exactly is going on when Tony Blair turns to the Gospels for truth
and solace?
The first point to note is that even though the Prime Minister once
said, ‘I can’t stand politicians who wear God on their sleeve,’ he
himself has often done precisely that. Not long after becoming Labour
leader he allowed himself to be photographed in church. He likes to
be photographed outside churches. He enrages Conservatives by claiming
that the Labour party, and in particular his own modernising faction,
has some special connection with Christianity. In an article in the
Sunday Telegraph, published at Easter 1996, the future prime minister
wrote, ‘My view of Christian values led me to oppose what I perceived
to be a narrow view of self-interest that Conservatism — particular
its modern, right-wing form — represents.’
But what are these Christian values? It is difficult to say. In an
interview given shortly after becoming Labour leader, Tony Blair declared,
‘If you really want to understand what I’m all about, you have to
take a look at a guy called John Macmurray. It’s all there.’ Macmurray,
a Christian Socialist who joined the Society of Friends after the
second world war, was a pacifist who is remembered for inventing the
concept of ‘communitarianism’, though how well Tony Blair really grasped
this cloudy doctrine is open to dispute. A recent article in the journal
Political Quarterly argues that he failed to understand it at all;
indeed got completely the wrong end of the stick.
What has certainly remained with Blair is an evangelical tone. It
comes across in his preachiness, a characteristic accurately noted
in Private Eye’s Vicar of St Albion’s column. His comments often have
biblical echoes. ‘What the electorate gave, the electorate can take
away,’ he told Labour MPs the week after their 1997 landslide. Before
that election he said this: ‘One cross on the ballot paper, one nation
reborn.’ To some this came close to an impious insinuation that Britain
had been crucified under the Tories.
But this evangelical style is by no means matched by evangelical substance.
Indeed some Christians come close to despair when they contemplate
Tony Blair’s policies. On issue after issue they are baffled by his
failure to convert Christian belief into action. Back in 1993 the
Prime Minister insisted, ‘Christianity is a very tough religion. There
is right and wrong. There is good and bad.’ Yet on practically every
key moral issue of our day — family, abortion, cloning — the Prime
Minister falls on the side of the secular, liberal consensus rather
than that of robust Christian teaching.
Take abortion. The Prime Minister has never once voted with the pro-life
lobby and has voted 14 times for the pro-choice lobby in Parliament.
In 1990, during the debates leading up to the Human Fertilisation
and Embryology Act, he voted on three occasions to extend the time
limit for abortion to birth on grounds of handicap. In December 2000
he gave personal backing to regulations permitting stem-cell research
on human embryos; and his government enthusiastically promotes the
morning-after pill.
This approach frustrates many practising Christians. Before the 1997
election the Prime Minister came under sustained fire from the Churches,
in particular from Cardinal Winning, primate of Scotland. Tony Blair’s
response was to try to have it both ways. He insisted that privately
he was against abortion but that ‘as a legislator’ the question was
not about personal belief. It was about ‘whether in cases where women
face very difficult and agonising decisions the criminal law is the
right instrument to make that decision for them.’ Faced with the choice
between the Church and the powerful feminist lobby, the Prime Minister
came down on the side of the feminists.
It is interesting here to contrast Tony Blair with George Bush, who
shares his strong Christian faith. Tony Blair has never had a problem
with the fact that the West promotes the use of abortion in the Third
World. Neither did Bill Clinton. But President Bush, when elected
to office, put an immediate stop to US involvement in this field.
A yet more egregious case is the family. Christian teaching is strong
on family values, and Tony Blair has enthusiastically embraced the
rhetoric. ‘A young country that wants to be a strong country,’ he
proclaimed in 1995, ‘cannot be morally neutral about the family.’
In government Tony Blair has been led by feminist rather than by Christian
teaching. The married-couples allowance has been abolished, funding
has been switched from groups backing marriage to those taking a relaxed
view of any kind of relationship, the benefits system has been changed
to target all money for children regardless of family structure, etc.,
etc. Far from being morally neutral on the family, the Blair government
has actively discriminated against it.
Doubtless there is much to be said for all of Tony Blair’s policies.
The problem in this context is simply this: none of them squares with
his avowed Christianity. One of the key tests of being a Christian
is witness. This means doing something for your faith to your own
personal disadvantage. Tony Blair has not pressed forward with a single
policy for reasons of faith to his material, political or personal
cost. Viewed from this angle, the Prime Minister’s Christianity is
strikingly similar to his socialism. Every awkward matter of doctrine
or substance has been stripped out, leaving merely the glow of well-meaning
but carefully undefined sentiment.
Back in 1996, not long before he died, I spoke to Lord Soper, the
co-founder of the Christian Socialist movement. He was in despair
about Tony Blair, who had joined the Christian Socialists in 1992.
‘There is an imperative need,’ the old man told me, ‘for him to put
as quickly as possible suitable clothes on the body of Christian belief
that he cherishes. It is not enough to talk about family relationships
without spelling out what you mean.’
Soper told me he had ‘every reason to think that Mr Blair is a sincere
Christian and I have no doubt that in his political life he is largely
directed by his religious beliefs’. But Soper was troubled by the
fact that ‘he talks about his faith and principles, but fails to explain
how he would translate his beliefs into action if he were elected.’
That is just as true today. The Prime Minister takes from Christianity
only those parts that suit him. The trait is illustrated by an episode
before the 1997 election. As an opposition MP Tony Blair was accustomed
to take communion at his local Roman Catholic church of St Joan of
Arc in Islington. But doing so conflicted with rules forbidding non-Catholics
from taking part except in cases of ‘grave and pressing spiritual
need’. The fact that the non-Catholic in this instance was a likely
future prime minister caused Cardinal Basil Hume to write to Tony
Blair asking him to desist. It was Blair’s reply that was so striking.
He indicated that of course he would comply, but showed dissent by
adding, ‘I wonder what Jesus would have made of it.’ The Prime Minister’s
biographer, John Rentoul, judged that this letter ‘revealed a theological
presumption greater even than Margaret Thatcher’s lecture to the Assembly
of the Church of Scotland in 1988’.
There is no doubting the sincerity of the Prime Minister’s faith.
But it is accompanied by arrogance. Unluckily for those who believe
that Mr Blair will one day convert to the Church of Rome, he occasionally
lays claim to the kind of direct relationship to Christ that is more
readily associated with the Protestant than with the Roman Catholic
Church. He once, in casual conversation, identified the Saviour with
New Labour. ‘Jesus was a moderniser,’ he asserted.
It may be the Prime Minister’s evangelical confidence that he enjoys
a direct, unmediated connection with God which enables him to lay
claim to be a Christian while neglecting Church teaching. The area
where this disjunction is most apparent today is the war in Iraq.
Tony Blair’s apologists, such as Matthew d’Ancona, have yet to explain
fully how religious belief can be at the core of the Prime Minister’s
conduct of the war at a time when pretty well every Church leader,
from the Pope to the Archbishop of Canterbury, has been opposed to
it all along.
The great religious figures of our age feel a repugnance for this
war because they understand that at the heart of Christianity is a
set of moral absolutes or rules: in the context of Iraq the most relevant
of these is the biblical injunction ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ Tony Blair’s
readiness to propound fresh doctrines of his own has been a striking
feature of his premiership in all sorts of areas. He has occasionally
brooded in public about the balance between natural law and utilitarianism.
On two occasions he has even claimed that he is more attracted to
the stern and immutable imperatives laid down by natural law than
to clumsy calculations about the greatest good of the greatest number.
But natural law comes down heavily against this war in Iraq, just
as it does against abortion.
Ultimately the argument for invasion is a pragmatic one. It boils
down to the utilitarian criterion that coalition forces will ultimately
kill fewer Iraqis than will Saddam. The Iraq imbroglio threatens to
illustrate in the starkest way possible the pitfalls of utilitarianism:
that it is not merely wrong to break with the rules of religion, but
doing so can have all sorts of unintended and undesirable consequences.
It is characteristic of those who feel that they have an unmediated
line to the Lord that they think that they can make the law themselves.
Tony Blair rewrote the rulebook for the Labour party. And this is
what he and George Bush are doing in Iraq: their readiness to ignore
the procedures of international institutions such as the United Nations
is a manifestation of the same sort of arrogance. According to the
precepts of natural law, the humility and discipline of religion express
a wisdom that is deeper than individual men and women can readily
understand. These are boundaries which, as Mr Blair may be about to
discover, are impertinent to transgress.
©
2003 The Spectator.co.uk
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