The right does not need religion
We should not mourn the end of the Quiet Revival
So, the Quiet Revival turns out to be little more than a whisper. Yet many have continued to write about Christianity’s role in Britain as if the claims of an upsurge hadn’t been withdrawn. This goes to prove one of the suspicions I have always had about the storyline — that it was more about the desire of commentators than material reality.
There were two types of commentators who pushed this: the first wanted it to be true because they thought it would be good for society. They were probably right and undoubtedly sincere in this belief: if they didn’t know it was false, it was because they didn’t want to know. They will have moved in circles with people who assumed the same. The second is less forgivable: those who were looking to use it as a way of building a media presence as the face of this revival, with particular hopes of opening up access to the American Bible Belt dollar.
I, on the other hand, am glad it’s dead. Its end should put paid to the threat of a new wave of Christian influence in politics. This should be welcomed, because the political forms Christianity would take — nationalism on the right and socialism on the left — would immiserate this country beyond belief.
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There has been much talk of a new religious right in Britain. Sky News has profiled Bishop Ceirion Dewar, who preached at Tommy Robinson’s Unite the Right rally, where attendees chanted “Christ is king”. This Christian inflection on the right has the potential to be deeply insidious: people are naturally alarmed at the prospect of Christian nationalism becoming a part of British politics. Given the role the Christian right plays in American politics — which is where any religious right would draw from — the public are right to be so worried about this unwelcome addition.
Christianity is now regularly identified as a foundation stone of British identity by some — particularly those to the right of Reform and around Restore. The order of politics of this Christian Nationalism, however, have not been set: nationalism with Christian characteristics and seeking to rebuild a Christian nation are two very different things.
Most of this group have added Christianity to their talking point repertoire only recently, and most were talking about the need to restrict immigration before Britain’s need to embrace Christ. Yet turning Britain back into a Christian country would likely involve facilitating immigration, however, rather than restricting it. The centre of Christianity is now outside of the developed world. As we have seen in America, Christian groups play a major role in facilitating mass migration for their ”brothers in the faith”. Pimlico Journal has already warned that, should Christianity again be centred as part of the right’s philosophy, calls to increase immigration will be unavoidable: “This will manifest in two ways. It will be argued that immigration of Christians is positive because it bolsters the influence of Christianity in Britain; and it will be claimed that anyone professing Christian faith will have no trouble becoming British: ‘After all, it’s a central part of our country’s identity.’”
There will, of course, be many reading this who will be shocked at the idea of disregarding faith in response to political problems. That is, however, how the Church of England itself treats Christianity. It has become another institutional vehicle for progressive values: it mounts no vigorous defence of Christian beliefs in public policy making: on the issue of assisted dying and the new changes to abortion legislation, the Church was practically silent either way.
Andrew Cusack has argued in these most august pages that Christian Nationalism “barely exists even in America, but it certainly doesn’t exist in Britain.” Andrew is right: you are more likely to meet a Zoroastrian Persian revivalist than a Christian nationalist.
Both the media and the public are incredibly hostile to the idea of Christian nationalism
Cusack also argues that the spectre of Christian nationalism is “concocted by the coastal left in the United States to frighten its own base and has since become a convenient label for anyone on the centre-right whose Christianity extends beyond private sentiment”. I do not agree entirely on this point, but it is entirely true of British Christian nationalism — as evidenced by the treatment of both Kate Forbes and Tim Farron.
Both the media and the public are incredibly hostile to the idea of Christian nationalism. Its electoral appeal is smaller than my chances of wedding Sydney Sweeney, and its potential effects on policymaking would move this country backwards to disaster, not forwards towards deliverance. Where religion in politics is concerned, and only where religion in politics is concerned, Alastair Campbell might have had a point.
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