I warmly welcome the Bill, which seeks to provide a legislative basis for continuing the tradition, wherever it may be desired, of prayers before meetings in local government. The purpose of new clause 1, without at all inhibiting the freedom of councils and local authorities to employ or not employ prayer at their meetings, is to ask those bodies to keep in mind the religious heritage of our country and the religious foundations of the state, which are of a Judaeo-Christian nature. That is what my new clause proposes—having regard to the Judeao-Christian nature of our country.
Helston town council in Cornwall came in for a bit of flak in 2010, when resident Pat Woodhouse attacked the council for having “Christian-only prayers”. The local newspaper reported her to have said:
“Let’s face it, we are supposed to be politically correct now.”
What authority has determined that “we” are “supposed” to be politically correct? Why should citizens of any philosophical or religious world view unthinkingly surrender to the totalitarian and ever-shifting ideology of political correctness? In the Helston case, Ms Woodhouse is reported to have said:
“If anyone really took offence they could criticise the council. It isn’t right. With respect to the reverend who opens the meeting
with a prayer, is it politically correct to only have Christian prayers at the beginning of the meeting?”
Note that she uses the word “if” anyone took offence—we are dealing with a pure hypothetical.
Doubtless, opponents of Christian prayer can cite actual cases where offence has been taken by someone, but I suspect it is pretty rare. We are supposed to be mature adults. I believe that anyone who is grievously offended by the Christian nature of prayers in councils needs to have some regard to the roots of our country. I am sure that both sides of the argument agree that we should not be a nation of triumphant Christian supremacists, but nor should we be a nation of molly-coddlers seeking to wrap the entire population in a protective layer of liberal gauze. We should abide by the principles of tolerance and respect: tolerance for belief or non-belief, twinned with respect not just for this country’s present, but its history.
We in Britain are known for our adherence to tradition. I would argue that this Parliament is the most beholden to tradition of any legislature in the world. Chesterton famously described tradition as
“the democracy of the dead.”
For when we make our decisions today, why should we not take into account the Britons of centuries past? Of course, the reality today is that the Christianity associated with the state—prayers before meetings, Remembrance day services, the role of the Church of England—is a thin whitewash over the official reigning ideology of liberalism. That is true, but these acts, be they prayer or worship, tie us intimately with our ancestors. I believe that that is what conservatism is all about. They connect us, I dare say, with the communion of Saints, four of whose number—George, Andrew, David and Patrick—serve as the traditional patrons and protectors of these nations. One can see their images in mosaic form looking down upon us in the Central Lobby of this Palace. Even in law we have the four quarter days of the year: Lady day, the feast of the Annunciation; Midsummer, the feast of St John the Baptist; Michaelmas, the feast of the Archangel Michael; and Christmas, the great feast of the Incarnation of Our Lord, which is celebrated so widely among those of profound religious belief or of none. The reason the tax year starts on 6 April is that it is the Gregorian equivalent of Lady day in the old Julian calendar that we in Britain held out in using for so long.
It is important to recall that other laws reinforce the Judaeo-Christian foundations of our society, and they should be celebrated in prayers before our meetings. Nobody is suggesting that should be compulsory; it is simply the decision of the council. Schools are still required to provide
“daily collective worship wholly or mainly of a broadly Christian character”.
That is in our legislation. The Guardian finds that “incredible”, and it is worth noting that while we Conservatives can take credit for this requirement in passing the Education Reform Act 1988, The Guardian says that this was last reaffirmed in 1998 under new Labour—so presumably it is not that controversial.
It should be recalled that the etymology of the word “worship” comes from “worth ship”, the act of attributing or recognising worth, honour, esteem or distinction. With their conversion to Christianity, the Anglo-Saxon kings could no longer exert an arbitrary power over the
kingdoms and peoples, but were subject to and restrained by, they realised, a higher power. This worship or esteeming of God laid the foundations for His creation—man—with numerous consequent ideas flowing forth about the dignity of the individual and our freedom of conscience. After all, what value is there to worship if it is not done as an act of free will?
Even more recent aspects of British society have Christian roots. Lord Alton, a former Member of this House, now in the other place, has written eloquently about the Christian foundations of the welfare state, noting that
“the thoughts, words and actions of the Christian community were central to bringing”
the welfare state “to fruition”.
Is it any wonder that what we can fairly describe as traditionally Christian countries are the ones that are today so tolerant of those of other faiths or indeed of none? The traditionally Christian societies are the most successful economically because they are tolerant of all other beliefs. It is that tolerance that has laid our economic success.
When we look at the past 50 years and observe officially atheist states such as the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China or officially Islamic republics such as Iran and Pakistan, we find their level of tolerance disappointing at best. Would someone rather be an atheist in Tehran where the mullahs rule the roost or in Beirut where the political and legal culture took root during the decades in which Lebanon had a Christian majority? I suspect that the overwhelming majority of British atheists are mature and respectful people, tolerant and perhaps even appreciative of the Christian foundations of the state and society. Rare is the man or woman given to sudden fits of apoplectic rage at the appearance of a nativity scene in public around Christmastide.
It has been rare in our time that an event has promoted as much comment and discussion on the nature of freedom and its responsibilities as the recent tragedy in Paris. France, of course, has a unique status in British society, serving simultaneously as our favourite traditional enemy as well as our closest friend, whose culture we most enjoy, love and revel in more than that of any other country. Britons will be the first gently to mock the French and some of their silly ways—and we have some silly ways— but our reaction to the recent atrocities committed in Paris has shown that we are the first to rush to their defence and express our solidarity with the French people. Chesterton was very prescient when he restated that to have a right to do something is different from being right in doing so. We believe in the freedom of speech, and while we hope that this freedom is used responsibly, we know that any attempts by the state to act as a determinant or guarantor of what is and what is not said is not a responsible exercise of freedom and is inherently threatening to our liberty. That is why I was a prominent supporter of the Reform Section 5 campaign about the right to offend other people. In this society, we have a right to offend others. If, dare I say it, prayers before council meetings offend some people—I doubt if anyone will be very offended—I believe that it is an inherent right nevertheless and it should be exercised.
It may astonish the House for a moment, but I confess that there are some aspects of political correctness that I find welcome. Political correctness to a certain
extent incorporates a good old-fashioned sense of politeness. I am not a Muslim, so satirical depictions of Mohammed are ostensibly none of my business, but I do not understand the mentality that seeks intentionally to degrade and insult someone else’s most deeply held beliefs. To me, it seems plainly rude and ungentlemanly, and while these terms are viewed by some in our society as old-fashioned, it is just such forms of tradition and social dignity that say we should not deliberately intend to insult someone’s religion. That is up to the individual, not the state. It is such ideas, too, that affirm that we should not go slaughtering people because they insult us and our religion. In the end, being outrageous is all too often employed by the unoriginal and uninspired as a handy substitute for talent.
This is an opportunity to think more generally about the role of religion in our society and the world. What a shame, but also how natural, that religion is so often in the headlines because of warfare and conflict—we are all familiar with the so-called Islamic state. However, there are no headlines about the small kindnesses, the little acts of love and dignity, that people all around the world undertake, inspired either wholly or in part by their faith. I see no harm in councils’ proclaiming that faith before their meetings.
9.45 am
Recently, in the House, we debated the subject of Britons who have gone abroad to commit acts of terror and fight as jihadists. What is striking is that so many of them are not immigrants to this land, but were born and raised here. Perhaps a generation before them was raised in a religious context, whether individuals were personally pious or not. The increasing absence of religion from our society makes it more difficult for us to comprehend Islam. That absence also creates personal difficulties for many people who seek a deeper meaning in life. I believe that a little religion, such as prayers before council meetings, actually prevents outrageous intolerance.