Theo Hobson

There was a good programme last week on Channel 4 about Muslims looking for love, or at least marriage. It was called 'Extremely British Muslims', and it did indeed show us some young Muslims who were very much like anyone else. But it was also a reminder that many Muslims have a deep-seated assumption about religion and secularism that the rest of don’t. Lots of these young Muslims, though not very religious, saw it as their duty to become more religious as they grew up and settled down. Religion, for them, was an essential part of becoming responsible, civic-minded, family-minded, and about putting away youthful selfishness. And – the other side of the coin – secularism was assumed to be devoid of such healthy values, the site of mere hedonism.

Let me state the obvious for a moment: the Church of England does not know what line to take on homosexuality. The traditional line, that it is contrary to God’s will, is opposed by most Anglicans. The clergy in General Synod showed their opposition last week by refusing to approve a report by the bishops that upheld the old line. But the minority that likes the traditional teaching is not for budging. Does the leadership have the stomach to pursue a reform that will create a schism? No. Is a compromise possible? In theory, the Church could drop the ban on gay clergy and the ban on the blessing of gay unions, but retain its opposition to gay marriage.

I have mixed feelings about ‘the Reverend Richard Coles’, whose new
memoir I have just read. It’s great that a vicar has such high
 visibility - and why shouldn’t there be one or two luvvie-priests, who
 mix smoothly with celebs? And I have no doubt that he combines this
 with being an excellent parish priest, preaching great sermons,
 patiently attending to the needy (in a way that the rest of us don’t). And yet…how shall I put this? It’s not totally ideal that the most
 famous vicar of our day represents the camp-smug-gossipy wing of the church. His love of vestments and incense and saucy humour is in a 
long and venerable-ish Anglican tradition.

What do we believe in, in our largely post-religious culture? The pursuit of individual happiness, obviously. A vague humanism, thankfully. But something more dramatic is needed too. Something for Hollywood to chew on. La La Land reminds us what it is – the myth of the risk of art. The myth of creativity being a vocation that involves sacrifice. In this case, spoiler alert, it is romantic love that must be sacrificed. It is because it serves this myth that La La Land is being revered. (It is a rather feeble and self-conscious film, always looking at itself in the mirror to see if it looks authentic and fresh.) Another high-hyped recent film of this ilk was Whiplash, about a young music student. There’s one every year or so.

Before you read any further, be warned that this post contains some shockingly racy material. Well, not really - I just wanted to make sure you read beyond the first sentence. That’s what ‘adult content’ warnings are really for. When some mediocre TV drama begins with a warning about ‘scenes of a sexual nature’, I don’t suppose I’m the only person laying aside the remote and saying ‘oh goody!’ So I’m glad to hear that the ‘faux-warning’ is being extended to the study of religion at university. Students at Glasgow are being given ‘trigger warnings’ before being taught about the crucifixion of Jesus - more specifically, before being shown some gory film clips.

One should not speak ill of the dead, but if their flaws or vices are glossed over that is also problematic. George Michael was admirable in some ways, especially for his quiet charitable donations, but less so in others. I don’t see why his penchant for anonymous sexual encounters should be politely passed over, or treated as a harmless lifestyle choice. He ‘loved anonymous sex’, said Owen Jones in the Guardian - as if fondly recalling someone’s love for opera or snooker. Jones and others will doubtless say it is homophobic to moralise about this.

In yesterday's Guardian Giles Fraser dismisses Louise Casey’s report on social division. Its desire to ‘integrate’ communities is serving liberal capitalist ‘hegemony’. And he dismisses Sajid Javid’s call for all Britons to affirm ‘the shared values that make Britain great.’ This, says Fraser, ‘is actually another way of saying that all must be obliged to pay homage to the real god: the economy.’ Thank goodness there are communities that dissent from ‘the dominant model of middle-of-the-road liberal secular capitalism'. He concludes that Muslims should be thanked for maintaining ‘their religious convictions and way of life. They refuse all that nonsense about religion being a private matter.

It’s time to consider Nietzsche’s view of liberal democracy. It couldn’t work, it couldn’t bind a nation together, he said. Why not? Because of its excessive moral idealism. The belief in equality and social justice, which he rightly saw as deriving from Judaism and Christianity, would lead to fragmentation. For politics would be dominated by various disadvantaged groups demanding respect. Any sort of unifying ethos would be treated as oppressive, the ideology of the ruling class. If virtue lies in weakness, and victim status, healthy politics is doomed. It is emerging that he was largely right. Progressive politics, which affirms the liberal or humanist vision, seems to be collapsing.

The essence of Trumpism is vitalism, the belief that energy is the key political virtue. Don’t worry about my specific plans, he says, just believe that I will shake things up, even smash things up. Hillary ‘lacks energy’ he keeps saying. This should worry us. For this approach to politics was the seed of European fascism, almost exactly a century ago. The movement initially overlapped with the avant garde art movement, Futurism. Its founder Filippo Tommaso Marinetti announced a punk-like attack on the arts and politics in his manifesto of 1909. Liberal democracy was sapping Italy of manly energy, he said: ‘We wish to glorify war – the sole cleanser of the world.

There is an important article in this week’s New Statesman. It addresses the big (embarrassingly big) issue of what our most fundamental values are in the West. The historian Tom Holland explains that his study of the classical world has made him realise that a huge gulf exists between the values of that era and modern Western assumptions – especially the assumption that all human lives matter. Classical culture has huge allure for modern intellectuals, but in reality its values were never far from fascist. And it was Christianity that put new values on the table – a fact that Enlightenment thinkers massively downplayed, due to their sneering dismissal of ‘superstition’.

There are two articles in yesterday's Guardian that are critical of something called ‘liberalism’. Giles Fraser vents his irritation at an advertisement for a hotel chain, aimed the global business elite. It celebrates the idea of the individual’s freedom from boundaries, constraints – be a ‘beautiful nomad’ it urges. This epitomises the worst sort of ‘liberalism’, he says. And Martin Kettle suggests that we are seeing the demise, or at least the failure, of the two versions of liberalism that have dominated national life for decades: the social liberalism of the 60s and economic liberalism of the 80s. Brexit was in part a protest against both, he says.

The Church of England’s relationship with state education seems simple enough. Its schools have been a major source of strength, significantly slowing its rate of decline over the past few decades. Many congregations have been swelled by parents seeking a better-than-average state education for their offspring. From an Anglican point of view, what’s not to like?  Well, this: selection by church attendance is unpopular with those who do not benefit, giving the Church an image problem with its non-members. This makes some of its members, including me, uneasy. Also, the integrity of church attendance is in doubt, in parishes near a popular school. The cliché of the pushy parents faking their piety is partly true, and it affects the meaning of contemporary churchgoing.