DO NOT BE ALARMED
Rowan Williams seems to have developed the ability to make other people as incoherent as he is. I have absolutely no idea what Theo Hobson is yammering on about here:
Despite his theological brilliance, Rowan Williams’ approach to the place of religion in society has been deeply flawed. In my opinion, it is this that has marred his leadership of the Church of England. I am reluctant to say this, for I greatly admire his thought, particularly his insight into the sacramental essence of Christianity. I paid close attention to his utterances as archbishop. I wrote quite a few articles on him, and even a short book about his ecclesiology. I do not expect to pay his successor such attention. I feel I ought to express gratitude that such a serious thinker has led the church this past decade. But it needs to be said: I do not think that he has been good for the Church of England. I consider him a brilliant, but flawed, theologian. And I think that the past decade has brought out his flawed side, given it great exposure, influence. I am talking about his deeply ideological view of liberalism.
Why is that, T?
To put it bluntly, he has a very low opinion of the liberal state. This is influenced by various things: the Marxist critique of liberalism as a veneer for capitalism, the communitarian idea (associated with Alasdair MacIntyre and others) that liberal values are weak, thin, illusory, and most obviously his deep preference for Catholicism and Orthodoxy over Protestantism. These factors led him to see liberalism as an essentially secular ideology that wants to “privatise” religion, push it from “the public square”. (It was ironic that the press dubbed him a liberal on account of his relative sympathy with gay rights and his leftwing politics, because he represented a militantly “post-liberal” form of theology.)
And that’s bad?
Williams’s anti-liberal tendency was exacerbated by 9/11, and the sudden arrival of a religious-based culture war in Britain. Instead of reassuring Britons that religion and liberalism were compatible, he did the opposite: painted liberalism as the enemy of “faith communities”, and dismissed liberal fears that an expanding faith school sector might damage social cohesion. The real danger, he said, was not religion seeking a larger role in society (including the partial introduction of sharia law) but the secular liberal “agenda”, driven by soulless capitalism, and arrogant atheism. He presented the role of the established church as to defend all forms of religion from the threat of bullying secularism.
According to Theo, religion is fine as long as it does what the state needs for it to do. Or something along those lines. Maybe.
What is the liberal state? It is, I suggest, the state that has moved away from theocratic religion (or secular totalitarianism), and that finds a new narrative of national identity in “liberty”. This move entails limiting some forms of religious expression, forms that retain theocratic impulses. The liberal state therefore insists that not all religion can be allowed full expression in “the public square”. Of course there is a danger of a new authoritarianism, in the name of “liberty”. But the liberal state can learn to mitigate this. Above all, this is the least worst form of religious politics. Recent thinkers, both religious and secular, are guilty of failing to renew this narrative; they think they are cleverly postmodern by denigrating it.
It’s right about here where Hobsie loses me.
What is ironic about Williams’s denigration of this narrative is that the national church has played a key role in it. Its establishment is a strangely ambiguous phenomenon. It is rooted in an early form of liberalism: a national church was the way to ward off Catholic theocracy and become a free modern nation. But of course establishment was inhibitive of full religious liberty. The establishment is therefore fraught with contradictory meanings.
Whatever you say, Theo.
For all his famous intellect, Williams has not helped us to reflect on this rich and strange tradition. A national religious leader should open up the discussion about religion and liberalism, encourage new honesty, in church and nation, about its complexity. Instead, Williams pushed his excessively ideological view of the matter. His legacy seems clear. He has strengthened the hand of more conventional conservatives like John Sentamu, his likely successor (gulp). And he has left liberal Anglicanism in a more demoralised state than ever – which might be good for it, might force it to ask what it is for.
So. Rowan Williams is a Christian liberal who’s actually a Christian conservative because he…ah, screw it. Haven’t got the time and I officially and finally lost interest a year or so ago. Since I’m so incredibly awesome at discovering fundamental laws of the universe, let me propose another one. If people routinely respond to whatever you say or write with, “I think what _______ means here is..,” your communication skills suck.
Despite his theological brilliance, Rowan Williams’ approach to the place of religion in society has been deeply flawed. In my opinion, it is this that has marred his leadership of the Church of England. I am reluctant to say this, for I greatly admire his thought, particularly his insight into the sacramental essence of Christianity. I paid close attention to his utterances as archbishop. I wrote quite a few articles on him, and even a short book about his ecclesiology. I do not expect to pay his successor such attention. I feel I ought to express gratitude that such a serious thinker has led the church this past decade. But it needs to be said: I do not think that he has been good for the Church of England. I consider him a brilliant, but flawed, theologian. And I think that the past decade has brought out his flawed side, given it great exposure, influence. I am talking about his deeply ideological view of liberalism.
Why is that, T?
To put it bluntly, he has a very low opinion of the liberal state. This is influenced by various things: the Marxist critique of liberalism as a veneer for capitalism, the communitarian idea (associated with Alasdair MacIntyre and others) that liberal values are weak, thin, illusory, and most obviously his deep preference for Catholicism and Orthodoxy over Protestantism. These factors led him to see liberalism as an essentially secular ideology that wants to “privatise” religion, push it from “the public square”. (It was ironic that the press dubbed him a liberal on account of his relative sympathy with gay rights and his leftwing politics, because he represented a militantly “post-liberal” form of theology.)
And that’s bad?
Williams’s anti-liberal tendency was exacerbated by 9/11, and the sudden arrival of a religious-based culture war in Britain. Instead of reassuring Britons that religion and liberalism were compatible, he did the opposite: painted liberalism as the enemy of “faith communities”, and dismissed liberal fears that an expanding faith school sector might damage social cohesion. The real danger, he said, was not religion seeking a larger role in society (including the partial introduction of sharia law) but the secular liberal “agenda”, driven by soulless capitalism, and arrogant atheism. He presented the role of the established church as to defend all forms of religion from the threat of bullying secularism.
According to Theo, religion is fine as long as it does what the state needs for it to do. Or something along those lines. Maybe.
What is the liberal state? It is, I suggest, the state that has moved away from theocratic religion (or secular totalitarianism), and that finds a new narrative of national identity in “liberty”. This move entails limiting some forms of religious expression, forms that retain theocratic impulses. The liberal state therefore insists that not all religion can be allowed full expression in “the public square”. Of course there is a danger of a new authoritarianism, in the name of “liberty”. But the liberal state can learn to mitigate this. Above all, this is the least worst form of religious politics. Recent thinkers, both religious and secular, are guilty of failing to renew this narrative; they think they are cleverly postmodern by denigrating it.
It’s right about here where Hobsie loses me.
What is ironic about Williams’s denigration of this narrative is that the national church has played a key role in it. Its establishment is a strangely ambiguous phenomenon. It is rooted in an early form of liberalism: a national church was the way to ward off Catholic theocracy and become a free modern nation. But of course establishment was inhibitive of full religious liberty. The establishment is therefore fraught with contradictory meanings.
Whatever you say, Theo.
For all his famous intellect, Williams has not helped us to reflect on this rich and strange tradition. A national religious leader should open up the discussion about religion and liberalism, encourage new honesty, in church and nation, about its complexity. Instead, Williams pushed his excessively ideological view of the matter. His legacy seems clear. He has strengthened the hand of more conventional conservatives like John Sentamu, his likely successor (gulp). And he has left liberal Anglicanism in a more demoralised state than ever – which might be good for it, might force it to ask what it is for.
So. Rowan Williams is a Christian liberal who’s actually a Christian conservative because he…ah, screw it. Haven’t got the time and I officially and finally lost interest a year or so ago. Since I’m so incredibly awesome at discovering fundamental laws of the universe, let me propose another one. If people routinely respond to whatever you say or write with, “I think what _______ means here is..,” your communication skills suck.
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