We do do God: why liberals shouldn't fear religious views in politics

Tim Farron spent two years as leader of the Liberal Democrats fending off repeated questions about his faith.

The inquisitors, he argued, saw him as something of a “religious nutter” for his views on same-sex relationships—leading him to conclude it is impossible to be the leader of a British political party and a believing Christian.

That question is now back on the agenda. Rebecca Long-Bailey, a Labour leadership candidate and a Catholic, has come under fire after she expressed a personal view about reducing the time limits for abortions on the grounds of disability. Ironically, Long-Bailey's position on this issue is at odds with the Church’s official teaching given she supports abortion laws (the Church is opposed to any).

The issue at stake here, however, is not policies on abortion or same sex-relationships, but freedom of conscience. What the Long-Bailey episode has revealed is a growing intolerance for any British politician to express a religiously-informed conviction which goes against the narrowly-defined canon of political consensus. And it is the supposedly more broadminded liberal-left who are saying that certain views are not welcome.

Nick Spencer, Senior Fellow for the religion and society think tank Theos, told me there is now a fault-line in liberalism between those wanting to act as referee, and those wanting to be a bouncer.

“The referee allows the different views onto the same political pitch, and occasionally has to send ‘players’ off and ban certain views. The principle is to accommodate different standpoints,” he says.

“But what we have seen too much of recently is liberalism acting like a bouncer, saying: ‘you are not allowed into public debate unless your name is ‘on the list’.’ And to be on the list you have to pass a kind of progressive test which means, broadly speaking, agreeing with my socially liberal axioms.”

It is, he pointed out, a “form of political suicide” if the liberal bouncers are ready to turn away Long-Bailey—the leading female Labour candidate with a passionate message for tackling social inequality and protecting the environment.

For decades, Catholics in Britain have been some of the most loyal Labour supporters, the stalwart activists, MPs and campaigners who have toiled across the northern constituencies, one of which Long-Bailey represents in her seat of Salford and Eccles. The influence of Christians led Harold Wilson to remark the party owed more to Methodism than to Marx.

Away from Labour, history is littered with examples of politicians motivated by faith. For the Earl of Shaftesbury and William Wilberforce, it was their Christian values which spurred them on to abolish slavery, and it was church ministry, rather than politics, which was Martin Luther King Jr’s first calling.

What these figures demonstrate is that religious belief is not first and foremost about your policy positions, but who you are. It is a question of identity as much as belief. That was on display more recently when Carol Monaghan, the SNP MP for Glasgow North West, took part in a televised select committee meeting with a cross on her forehead on Ash Wednesday, with the BBC later polling readers on its Facebook page as to whether they thought this show of faith was acceptable.

Alastair Campbell, Tony Blair’s former communications director, once declared “we don’t do God,” correctly identifying the uneasiness the British public have about politicians who make too many protestations about their faith.

Yet God is increasingly being dragged into politics, particularly among the rising tide of nationalism in Europe. Hungary’s Prime Minister Viktor Orbán is justifying his anti-migrant policies on the grounds that newcomers to the country water down Christian values, while Italy’s far-right leader Matteo Salvini brandishes religious symbols at political rallies.

Populist leaders such as Salvini are using Christian iconography to whip up the idea of a clash of civilisations between the Christian west and Muslim east. In the United States, Donald Trump Jr was photographed with a rifle decorated with a cross used during the crusades.

By contrast, Pope Francis stands in opposition to these attempts to whip up hostility between religions, while trying to place the Church on the side of the marginalised. He's faced the wrath of the populist-nationalists as a result. In the UK, statements against hatred jointly organised by Muslim anti-racism initiative Tell MAMA, Faith Matters and the Board of Deputies of British Jews show the power of cross-faith efforts.

Rejecting or demonising faith positions in today’s global political climate is an act of willful ignorance and, like it or not, religion is enmeshed into politics: the question is how do you navigate the tensions.

The first point for Labour to remember is that no-one needs to be fearful that Long-Bailey’s faith makes her a secret theocrat. The Catholic Church has for more than half a century officially supported the separation of Church and state along with the freedom to choose one’s religion. The claim that the Vatican seeks to dictate a politician’s policy position on abortion, as one Labour commentator suggested last week, is a tired old claim which President John F Kennedy debunked.

Intolerance of mixing religion with politics in Britain may be on the rise, but if the Labour party are serious about returning to power, they will need to attract a broad spectrum of people motivated to create a fairer and more equal society. What must be accepted is that many will be attracted to get on board because of their faith, not despite it.