Matt Sinclair takes a view in his latest post on the Archbishop of Canterbury that the Archbishop should resign because he has affronted Matt's and my views on what sensible politics consists of. Matt is wrong in his response to my post and I want to open up some of the areas that we disagree upon. Firstly it is worth me stating I think here that when I said the Archbishop opened up interesting issues, I was not specifically talking about this. The Archbishop has a long record of making interesting speeches and statements- I don't need to defend him on this- but I have listened for instance to him lecture about the state of neo-scholastic art theory in the 1920s in France in a fascinating and illuminating lecture. It might seem a little odd but I still remember that lecture as one of the most exciting and inspiring I have ever been to. The Archbishop does talk about issues in ways which are generally more subtle and interesting than any of his critics seem ready to engage with: one of the things I lament frequently is the cheapening of our political discourse- something that say the populists in all the newspapers, on all the television shows etc are attempting to perpetuate. I like the fact that there is in the UK a figure in public life who is an intellectual and I find that comforting- I do think from comments on this blog and at other places that Williams is despised for being too clever by half and I'm afraid I want him to stay for that precise reason. I'm sick of politicians like David Cameron and Tony Blair whose cultural hinterland is a squalid swamp.
Ok rant over. My second and less personal reason for wanting Williams to stay in office is that I don't agree with Matt that he had an obligation to keep silent about this kind of issue. Matt assesses, as most of the blogosphere and media seem to do, whether someone should be sacked by the furore created. I'm actually quite sure that if anyone said this and it was picked up by the media then there would be a furore- especially in the way that the media quite frankly missreported the Archbishop's statements. Essentially the Archbishop was arguing for a private religious law for religious communities- he was arguing that the law of God should be recognised in the civil courts where all parties agreed it should be recognised. That seems to me a fairly uncontroversial idea to the religious. There is a set of people who are really upset with the Archbishop not so much for talking about inserting religious law into the law of England as inserting Sharia- that's essentially the Bishop of Rotchester's position and that's the position that I think the Archbishop's address really did undermine very well.
I disagree with that position- I don't think that religion should have anything to do with the law, for all sorts of reasons that I don't want to get into right now, right here. I think its a bad political argument- and would lead to various kinds of unhappiness within the realm. Now that may be true- but what is bad politics may well be good theology and ultimately the Archbishop of Canterbury's concern is not with good politics but with good theology. In that sense both in his defence of Islam and the possiblity of 'liberal' Islam and in his argument for theocracy (I use the word provocatively) he was doing what he should be doing: presenting a good understanding theology to the world in front of him. (Chris Dillow advances good liberal reasons for thinking that this defence of theocracy ought to have nothing to do with politics here- but taking for granted the intersection of law and commandment, we can see the Archbishop's argument has more validity). Any good Archbishop from that perspective ought to be causing furore, causing it by advocating theological arguments where they contradict political arguments. Many of his critics don't understand the theology of the issue- which is why they fail to understand what the Archbishop's role is. The contempt for instance for the Archbishop's penitent tone on the Spectator Coffee House reflects the fact that Matthew D'Ancona doesn't understand that the Archbishop isn't a politician, he is a theologian, his job is to get close to and understand the mind of God not that of man. Many of the criticisms made by D'Ancona and others relate to the legislative form that this policy might take- again that is an argument about the politics not about the theological argument about the source for law which is what the Archbishop was involved in.
The real argument which I think does endanger the Archbishop is the argument that the Political Umpire made here- the Umpire pointed out that the Archbishop's role is political as well as theological. But I think here too there are subtle distinctions to be made: the Archbishop is not a minister for religion, rather he is the appointed head from religion to the wider community. Consequently his role is theologico political, not politico theological. In that sense the priority that he has is to represent those who take their religion seriously- not those that don't. Again here I think the fact that his argument was firstly theological makes sense- and the fact that his critics miss this means that they miss in reality what his job is. There might be problems with having someone with that kind of job- but if someone is to have that job, then the Archbishop is doing the right thing. He is making a theological argument about the nature of civil authority and how it relates to issues of conscience- rather than a political argument which prioritises peace and stability over eschatology. The Archbishop is making the case for the religious to be able to live according to conscience and thus save themselves from hellfire- in comparison with that no war or civil strife is important- his argument is wrong but its wrong for political reasons- many of which have to do with the toxic way that theology interacts with politics.
Consequently I don't see a case for the Archbishop to resign- he has fulfilled the duties of his role. There might have been cleverer ways for him to perform those duties- he might have made a more moderate form of the argument, presented it more attractively and clearly (as say Dave Cole has done here) and there is plenty that I think the Archbishop could learn from this episode. Whether its media presentation or syntactical clarity, my Lord of Canterbury has some way to go. But I do not think he has to resign for presenting a good theological argument about law to an audience of lawyers and theologians- I still think he was wrong- but I don't think he should resign.
I have heard Rowan Williams speak and unlike some am fairly well disposed to him- he gave a fascinating talk on art and philosophy at Cambridge in 2005. I suppose that makes me a perfect advocate of the argument that today the Archbishop has made a complete idiot of himself. Partly he has made an idiot of himself through the fact that whatever Rowan Williams does understand, the media isn’t one of the things that he gets. Partly though he has made an idiot of himself because he has advocated a concept of law which I think is dangerous and creates a special privilege for established Churches in this country which they should not have.
Williams’s speech has usefully been put up on the Guardian website. Reading it one notices a couple of things. Williams is not really talking about Sharia- the discussion of Sharia is just a bridge into a much more important theoretical issue which is the attitude of the law to the citizens who live under it. What Williams wants the law to do is to distinguish between citizens based on what they believe: he tells us that
there is a risk of assuming that ‘mainstream’ jurisprudence should routinely and unquestioningly bypass the variety of ways in which actions are as a matter of fact understood by agents in the light of the diverse sorts of communal belonging they are involved in.
Williams of course over emphasizes the communal (and Matt Sinclair has criticised the Archbishop adequately on those grounds here): but he also mistakes what the law is about.
The law is the instrument by which we maintain peace and mark out civil goods and bads: it delineates that which the country considers private and inoffensive and that which the country considers public and dangerous. The law insofar as it does that cannot respect the will of the particular agents who operate under it, even if they have a sense of ‘communal belonging’ which say excuses murder: the question before lawyers is what did they do and what is the punishment. In some situations the law also arbitrates and here you could argue that the intentions of the agents matter- but that is only in the sense that the law intends to respect both of the agents. The sense of the agents is not what governs the process of arbitration but its a factor in it. For example, say I am someone who believes that animals are equivalent to children: the fact that I believe that is a factor in the decisions the court might make, but it does not govern those decisions. Williams is right that the law should not be blind to the intentions of agents as factors in any decision, but it should not be governed by those intentions (and he knows it shouldn’t- at one key moment he qualifies his own position to exclude the religious courts ever destroying someone’s rights- quite how he would do that when almost all law concerns questions of right is a different and interesting matter). Ultimately the standerd to which the law aspires is not Muslim, Christian or Jewish justice or Mormon or Scientologist justice but its justice as defined by statute and precedent within Parliament- justice as it applies to everyone who is any of those five religions and to anyone who isn’t from the Sikh to the Satanist, from the atheist to the polytheist.
The problem with Rowan Williams is in part that he is deceived by his own subtlety- go and read the lecture it is an example of encasing yourself in sentences like a mummy in wallpaper and then trying to walk through a crowded tube platform. But its more than that. As a theologian Williams wants us to think about revelation all the time: but revelation doesn’t have that much to do with politics. In a democratic secular state, revelation is a factor in any decision but it doesn’t govern what the government should or shouldn’t do. Ultimately people who believe owe just as much as people who don’t to the state because the state is not a religious formation- it is on its Western model a secular foundation which exists to perpetuate the well being of its members. The point isn’t that religious people can’t be religious, or can’t be members of society, but that the state isn’t interested in their religion. They can use religious justifications for their political actions if they like- but those justifications will only appeal to those that share the same religion and will irritate those that don’t- they will produce communities struggling against each other. The state is a minimalistic project in the sense that it talks a minimalistic language of politics- the problem with Dr Williams is that for him that just isn’t enough.
Its a common problem that you can see here and across the Atlantic- the current Pope is another person guilty of demanding accomodation on his own terms alone. But what people need to realise is that as soon as you create a legally privileged religion or argue that all argument has to take place in religious terms: you do abandon the whole idea of a secular state- a meeting place between people of different religions and none which does not proscribe any faith but tolerates almost all. There is a lot of modern work been done on these questions- Mark Lilla has just published an interesting book I mean to write about here in the future on the philosophy of this area. But ultimately it all comes down to the reasoning of the earliest modern philosopher of secularism, Thomas Hobbes. Hobbes had a dark vision of where arguments like the Archbishop’s could lead us: towards a hell of civil strife and communal violence, towards religious tyranny and massive unhappiness.
Despite my admiration for Rowan Williams, who is a very intelligent and thoughtful person, this time I’m with Thomas Hobbes.




