Clarifying something

I've had an e-mail complaining that this post is too long. Shuggy has gone one step further, and written a post saying (nicely) that it's wrong.

However, I have the drop on Shuggy here. I know what the post was meant to say. And Shuggy hasn't really understood what I meant to say. He has, however, given me some perfectly reasonable criticisms of what I actually did say. So I suppose we can er ... call it a draw?

Actually, looking back on it, I've missed a couple of vital disclaimers that change the meaning of a lot of the post. Blogging is part-time and unpaid – that's my defence. So, here, I'll do two things to remedy this, as briefly as I can.

Firstly, I'll correct the misunderstandings. Secondly, I'll summarise what I intended to say.

Firstly, Shuggy says:

“His argument, if I've understood him correctly, is that Protestantism is more illiberal - in practice if not in theory - than Catholicism and that this has fed into politics and finds its secular shadow in the tension between 'liberals' and 'democrats'.”

Though that post looked like it was about religion, it wasn't intended as such. I just wanted to use some observations about religious debate to illustrate other matters. I was actually trying - rather clumsily - to use the type of Protestantism that is all too evident in Northern Ireland to illustrate some of the problems with individualism and liberalism. It wasn't intended as any kind of defence of Catholicism, and I allowed the modern fudge of liberal high-ish churchness and 'Catholicism' to become interchangeable in a way that I didn't intend.

For the avoidance of doubt, I accept that Catholicism has all of the reactionary potential of Free Presbytarianism. Even on a whimsical level, Anne Widdecombe left the C of E because it was no longer reactionary enough for her – and she chose to run to the Roman church.

I was, however, preferring an 'aristocratic' form of government to the (small) one that some radical liberals would choose. I think that radical protestantism illustrates the shortcomings of some radical liberals – but I wouldn't intend to take this any further than that.

And – clarifying a second point – in using the term 'aristocratic', I was referring to the concerns of about democracy voiced by Plato, Burke, Mill and Schumpeter among many others. Not literally aristocratic in the way it is commonly understood (resolving itself into oligarchy and plutocracy). More 'aristocratic' in that it involves an administration of people who are expected to use their judgement and access expertise.

It's an application of the word that I've found in various texts, but I can't remember what they are now, and I can see why anyone would bridle at the way I used it. One of Burke's speeches is the single most quoted text on this blog (apart from Brian Clough's biography).

So, here's what I meant to say:

• I listened to a Protestant being interviewed, and it reminded me of something that worries me about the kind of future that many radical liberals would like to promote.
• Protestants – like many radical liberals – prefer to leave many important judgements to individuals who don't enjoy the vantage points that more aristocratic experienced well-connected and publically accountable individuals have.
• Those 'aristocratic' individuals (in practice, elected representatives) are likely to make decisions that will result in a better and more tolerant society. This is less likely to be the case in a political settlement that fetishises individual liberties.

Radical liberals often object to some institutions because they are seen to be a project of 'elites'. I suppose this is what I was trying to illustrate with my Catholic / Prod opposition. The EU and the BBC are good examples, but I would argue that radical liberals are often really gunning for representative democracy itself.

This attack on democracy is rarely explicit - indeed, it is often cloaked in demands for more democracy - and there are large sections of the chattering classes that routinely fall for this.

I hope this clears everything up. ;-)

Update: It occurs to me that I could have saved a lot of typing here with a reference to the low church - whig - liberal continuum.

Protestants and liberals

I've just got back from a trip to Northern Ireland. As I was driving over the Glenshane Pass between Derry and Belfast, I was lucky to hear what was, for me, one of the most entertaining bits of radio in long time. It was a phone-in on RTE1 – one of the Republic's main stations – with one Wallace Thompson - a leading Evangelical from the North on the vexed question:

Should the Church of Ireland cathedral in Dublin sell rosary beads?

As an agnostic (I'm less religious than an atheist) I could be a disinterested spectator. Mick of Slugger has summarised it nicely here, but listening to it in full provided quite an insight into the different mindsets on the island of Ireland. It also highlighted a strand of thinking that is evident way beyond Our Occupied Six Counties / Our Wee Province (delete as applicable).

In summary, Wallace was a stout defender of the standard evangelical line: That religion is a business between God and man. That God's word can be found in a very comprehensive book that can be read by us poor sinners, and that anyone – particularly anyone in a funny hat – who attempts to provide you with an interpretation of God's word that isn't supported by a layman's reading of said book is to be actively distrusted.

It is a position that adopts a fairly rigid evidence-based approach to the big issues. Also, only a limited amount of evidence is admissible (one leather-bound volume). It prefers the cold rationality of The Word to the more ambiguous emotional fuzziness of idolatrous imagery. Of rosary beads. And 'prefers' doesn't go far enough. If you are in favour of The Word, then you must be against the beads. And not to be against the beads is to be a channel for blasphemy.

This is not an approach that wastes it's time with any considerations of light and shade. Yet Thompson's tone was superficially reasonable – his defence of being 'born again' demands it. And leaving aside the obvious flaws in his argument (the less-than-conclusive proof that God actually exists, and the slightly more manageable doubts about the reliability of the various biblical texts as a timely account of the matters that they purport to report), he made a few appealing points.

From the perspective of the individual worshipper (in the unlikely event that I were to become one), for instance, I agreed with his dismissal of Ecumenism.

And I particularly enjoyed the reaction of most of the callers to his well-argued deduction that The Pope is, in fact, the Antichrist. Admittedly, not a new position from a Paisleyite, but still refreshing to hear nonetheless.

Now, I'm not going to go much further on this aspect of the show. I'm no theologian, and I expect that there are plenty of readers who are a bit more patient with God-botherers than I am who can offer a more nuanced account of this than mine.

But the discussion did highlight an important issue about the impact of protestantism upon political debate. And the rejection of ecumenism provides a good jumping-off point.

There is no doubt that – from the point of view of the individual - ecumenism is very unattractive. If you believe in something, how can you justify the negation of that belief into a massive fudge of consensus? It's like the worst aspects of multiculturalism, moral relativism, and straightforward lazy thinking all rolled into one.

Yet, from the point of view of society as a whole, ecumenism is a valuable tool. It is a concept that would have passed the kind of moral tests that Machiavelli set for practitioners of statecraft. It creates the kind of space that the more responsible clerics can use to ensure that society isn't in a permanent state of civil war. This is useful when the likes of Wallace Thompson can go on the radio in a nominally catholic state and believe (as he evidently did) that it is perfectly reasonable to call the Pope 'The Antichrist' (Catholics being his disciples).

The wider population, the ones who are less interested in such theological conundrums, and more concerned with being able to get on with their lives without a fear of being burned for heresy, deserve some kind of cushion in such circumstances, and if ecumenism is it, then so be it.

The protestantism of the Free Presbytarians, among others, is a rejection of the aristocratic arrogance of Popery. But in rejecting that aristocracy, it replaces it with the rule of a many, all wielding 'a little learning'. A literal and legalistic interpretation replaces the prerogatives exercised by higher clerics. And in doing so, it revives Plato's fears about democracy. That it privileges opinion over knowledge.

This finds echoes in the tension between a rule by representatives, and one in which consitutional and legal protections are placed to the fore. In religious debate, as in the wider secular disputes, this robust individualism results in an entrenchment of class and cultural barriers, an inevitable acceptance of sub-optimal policy outcomes (a monopoly of 'available' evidence), and a rejection of everything that is tolerant in modern societies. Any extended dialogue with Wallace Thompson may have strayed way beyond rosary beads and into a condemnation of many other forms of ungodliness. If a set of beads form the pretext to call someone a disciple of the Antichrist, then what happens when the more expansive liberties – drinking, shagging, etc, raise their naughty little heads? An elective (and dismissable) aristocracy is, thankfully, likely to be a little fuzzier.

And there is a direct correlation here, I would argue, with the political tensions between liberals and democrats. Where the liberals demand constitutional defences for the rights of individuals and smaller prerogative powers for elected representatives, the consequences will always be the same. More lasting privilege. Poorer quality-standards of public policy. Less tolerance. Think of longer prison sentences, more executions, less redistributive taxes and a high burden of proof required to justify taxation, more vetoes, social censoriousness, more entrenched hereditary property rights and tougher immigration policies.

Think of the difference between most EU states and the US. Then think about the trajectory upon which we are headed. Open any liberal newspaper and see the handwringing about the decline of one kind of liberty alongside demands to increase the liberties that are the cause of that decline. The more liberties you demand for individuals, the less you get.

Where evangelicals prefer the unmediated message, there is an individualism that is implicit in many strands of liberalism – an individualism that will not accept any version of aristocratic governance – even it's most benign version – representative democracy. If I were forced to choose between high and low church, I'd go high every time. I am – and I believe that most of the political centre and left would agree with me here – a catholic rather than a protestant agnostic.

I just wish that most of the political centre and left could find the time to sit down and think through the consequences of their nominal preference for representative government, because at the moment, there's a hint of the 12th July in the air everywhere.

What did you do in the war, daddy?

I got a lot of earache today along (now) familliar lines: How can I still vote Labour after their participation in the Iraq war?

Like most limp-wristed Guardian-reading wusses, I opposed the war at the time. I still think that it was not the right thing to do. I even went on the big march against it just before the invasion began.

My view at the time was that Blair was going to back the US on this for a number of reasons. In no particular order...

1. Numerous unspecified ulterior motives (oil, etc)
2. Labour has a strong faction that is keen on ‘liberal intervention’ - using our armies to replace BAD MEN with GOOD PEOPLE wherever possible. A belligerent US makes this possible in Iraq’s case and he saw the US position on Iraq as an opportunity
3. The US was going to do it anyway - Blair believed that they would either do it unilaterally or do it with a moderating influence that only we Brits can supply.
4. A cynic would suggest that Blair saw an opportunity to gain brownie points by backing the world’s first ‘hyperpower’

Taking these in order, I don’t know whether I buy the ulterior motive argument or not. I doubt if many commentators have the kind of vantage point to give an authoritative answer and I’m always suspicious of people who claim to know the truth on this one. They are usually either right-wing conspiracy theorists, or lumpen-trots and general anti-capitalistas. I’m sure there were very powerful ulterior motives behind the UK’s position - but I think that everyone would be quite suprised if we were ever told what they were in terms that we could understand.

I partly agree with the ‘liberal interventionist’ line. A lot of Labour lefties supported the action in Kosovo and Sierra Leone. Bosnia was betrayed by an absence of this instinct and it could be argued that supporting the US over Iraq may even provide a bit of leverage to get their undoubted firepower lined up more quickly next time an obvious case for intervention emerges. (This is probably a bit idealistic, but bear with me here...).

My problem is the desirability of US unilateralism. There appears to be a part of the British Establishment's DNA that insists upon a bridging role for the UK. There must be a reason that we have to comply with most demands that the US make upon us. It is clear that there are very few people in the UK who have a good enough vantage point to fully understand what these reasons are but it is obvious that these reasons exist and that they are very compelling. And complex. And sensitive.

I don’t think that any of us have had those reasons explained to us properly, but no-one should believe that Prime Ministers are allowed the luxury of principle instead of pragmatism on issues like this. Those that do are easily spotted. They are those precious souls who are forever declaring themselves ‘disillusioned’ with politics.

The ‘brownie points’ issue, therefore, must have some substance. I didn’t agree with the war because I don’t understand the relationship of the UK government with the US. But I don’t feel betrayed - or deceived. And in this election, there isn’t a realistic way that this position will impact on the way I vote.

We should all cast our vote with the big picture in mind. We have to opportinity next Thursday to bring about the final collapse of the Conservative Party, and with it the rightwards gravitation pull that it has on the Labour Party.

A whopping Labour majority will help to bring that glorious day closer.