Another Perth Sunset

Book Notes: Religion and Politics in The European Union: The Secular Canopy by Francois Foret

So much has been written about the relationship between politics and faith in the USA, that the furores around the beliefs of everyone from Obama to Ted Cruz to Trump erupt along well established lines. The place and function of religion in the EU in contrast, remains elusive and has awaited serious research for some time. This is especially the case in terms of the European Parliament (EP), whose religiosity has been explored even less than that of the European Commission.

[1]

François Foret’s Religion and Politics in the European Union: The Secular Canopy is built on groundbreaking research exploring the subtle and complex relationship between these two phenomena amongst Europe’s elites. Foret’s detailed questionnaires and interviews with MEPs, (the “RelEP” survey) is the largest and most comprehensive appraisal of the role of faith/unbelief in the EP; and Foret maps his findings onto the history of the EU, its documents, controversies, external relations, and breaks them down for analysis both by nation and party-grouping.

Foret’s conclusions are detailed and highly nuanced, yet across the areas he addresses (Historical development, Political culture, Elite Recruitment, Elections, Access to the Public Square, Policy, and External Relations), several common themes occur. Most prominent amongst these are that in the context of ongoing secularization, religion persists as a second-order factor, capable of influencing certain debates, but not defining and driving agendas, framing issues or establishing political cleavages.[2] The EP has no direct competence over religious affairs, which like religious identities remain deeply embedded within nation-states, while religious matters come to the fore in the EP only rarely, notably in ethical debates.[3] Foret’s analysis of political socialization in the EP is especially striking however. In his estimation, many MEPs, from Ulster Protestants to Polish Catholics, function effectively within the EP and maintain their personal faith. Perhaps surprisingly, MEPs were reportedly ‘as religious’ as average Europeans, suggesting that faith is neither an obstacle to election nor a pre-requisite for it.[4] What MEPs are able to do with their beliefs is more interesting still, as there is an inherent tension between their faith and their role as functionaries, within an avowedly secular system and culture:

They can either accept the banalization and resorption of their religion into mainstream culture, in the hope of preserving it as part of the common stock of imaginary resources; or they can assume that religious actors and believers are now a minority and claim respect as such, possibly by going to court on occasion, at the risk of reducing their audience to those who share the same beliefs.[5]

This means that while at an ideological level debates rage about referencing the heritage of so-called “Christian Europe” in the EU constitution; in practice it is secular liberalism which defines the rules by which the game is played. Thus: even in directly religious issues such as religious liberty, actors motivated by religious concerns find it “easier to mobilise in defence of human rights using the language of expertise than to proselytise using arguments rooted in values.” [6]

According to Foret, religion is therefore present across European Politics, but exists below the surface, as religious specifics are inimical to the transnational, cross-party, trans-denominational coalition building, on which all achievement in the EP must inevitably depend. As such it acts as a “resilient social constituency”, an “active mnesic trace and set of values”[7], because although Europe is secularising, major religious actors such as The Vatican have gained noted expertise in access and representation, which does not seem to be diminishing in line with the progress of secularization. Politicians can therefore use religious identities to consolidate support or opposition to political measures, to “scandalise” issues with the media, and to communicate with specific constituencies. The language of faith is no longer “an authoritative source”, and “European politics influences religious civil society more than religious civil society influences European politics”[8]; but religion remains a live issue with which Europe must reckon.

It seems clear from Foret’s work that much of Europe would prefer religious issues to remain dormant, welcoming the benefits of cultural-Christianity without having to openly acknowledge their source. Religious identity issues uncomfortably press themselves onto Europe’s agenda through issues such as Turkey’s proposed membership, and the various Islamic cartoon crises culminating in the Charlie Hebdo killings however. Europe then faces a historically unique challenge as it seeks to construct a multi-cultural polity without reference to God: its “secular exceptionalism.”[9] “What does it mean to be a European?” seems to be an unanswered question, one which challenges the viability of progress towards integration.

  

Foret’s book is an important, and defining contribution to an often-neglected field, which promises to be a benchmark study with which all future research will have to reckon. It is meticulously constructed and its’ arguments detailed. If it suffers from any weaknesses they are two-fold. A minor complaint is that sometimes the elegance and profundity of his analysis is cloaked in a complexity of language which will make it inaccessible to all but the most diligent scholars. A more substantial concern is that the foundational study of the book, the RelEP, only managed detailed interactions with 161 MEPs of the 751 in the EP, so all the statistics and conclusions they lead to must be treated with caution, as the sample was self-selecting. Nevertheless, in opening a new chapter in what must be an ongoing research project, it sets a very high standard.

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[1] François Foret, Observatoire des Religions et de la La Laïcité. http://www.o-re-la.org/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=1116%3Amapping-religion-at-the-european-parliament-some-findings&Itemid=85&lang=fr

[2] Foret, François Religion and Politics in the European Union: The Secular Canopy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015) p81, 4, 199

[3] Ibid., p185

[4] Ibid., p60

[5] Ibid., p11

[6] Ibid., pp198-201, 119, 123, 135

[7] Ibid., p280

[8] Ibid., p133, 201

[9] Ibid., p285

Cambridge University Press: Cambridge (2015)

ISBN: 9781107082717

Hardback £60

Kindle Edition £57

This review first appeared in Solas Magazine, formerly published by www.solas-cpc.org. Reproduced with permission.

Book Notes: The Age of Kali by William Dalrymple

I have yet to read a William Dalrymple which has failed to engage, inspire and educate me; usually about areas in which I am rather ignorant, The Age of Kali, is the latest one to have achieved this, and it consists of a series of essays about different areas of the Indian Subcontinent which he explored in the 1990s - in fact the book is subtitled "Indian Travels and Encounters". Officially Dalrymple's books are divided into his historical works and his travel writing. In practice, while his historical works are very detailed and focused (such as The Return of a King); his travel writing is loaded with historical and cultural analysis. His travel writing is unusual, in that he makes almost no references to himself throughout the book; he's not entirely absent obviously, but his aim is to bring the places, the people, the cultures, customs, sounds, maybe even the smells he encounters into the imagination of the reader. Some travel writers loom large in their narratives - it's all about how they felt, they reacted, they coped or responded to the amazing stimuli of new worlds. Dalrymple on the other hand seems to have mastered the art of getting out of the way, and engaging so vividly with India, that he creates all these reactions within the reader. This might be because Dalrymple, although a Scot, spends at least half his life in India, and so writes neither as a freshly-culture-shocked outsider, nor as an insider for whom everything he experiences is normal; but can actually be something of a window between East and West.

The title, The Age of Kali, is a reference to an ancient Hindu belief of an age in which there would be massive social breakdown and chaos. As so much of what Dalrymple found in India looked like this, and a number of his acquaintances looking at their lives suggested to him that the Age of Kali was upon them.

In the course of his travels, Dalrymple encounters strange cities, temples and rituals, a case of Sati (widow-burning), social breakdown, organised crime, government corruption and wave after wave of extraordinary and fascinating people. Organised by region, as Dalrymple travelled, the book gives the outsider a remarkable insight into the country. A surprise was that he then moved outside India's boundaries, and explored the drug-warfare badlands of the Afghan-Pakistan border; explored with terrifying detail the horrors of the civil-war in Sri-Lanka (with unparallelled access to the Tamil Tigers), in what was perhaps the most vivid and disturbing essay in the book. He then moved onto Pakistan where he spent time on the road with Benazhir Bhutto and her family, followed by a road trip with cricketer-turned-politician Imran Khan.

This is not a challenging read, like some of his major historical works; but this is wonderful reading. Insightful, intriguing, expansive and unusual.

Around Saddleworth

Two Masters?

An illustration from yesterday's sermon!

Film Notes: Winter in Wartime (Oorlogswinter)

Winter in Wartime is a Dutch film about life in Holland in the last days of the Nazi occupation of their country during WWII. As the title suggests, the entire film takes place during the last bleak Winter of the war and it centres upon the life of the van Beusekom family, as they respond to the pressures of life under tyrannical occupiers.

The central protagonist is the teenage son, Michiele, and concerns how he became drawn into the war, despite the stern warnings of collaborators and resistance fighters alike, to remain apart from it. Michiele's father is the town mayor, who has to deal directly with the Germans, and takes the approach of seeking as friendly relations as possible with them, in order to ameliorate the suffering of the people. His cheerful hand-shaking with the Nazi commander, might win the occasional reprieve, but is seen as great treachery by the resistance, as represented by Michiele's jovial uncle.

The delicate balance as difficult negotiation between occupiers and the occupied, is shattered when a British plane is shot down in the woods outside the town, and the body of a dead German soldier found near the scene.

When local resistance members are shot, Michiele, finds himself as the only person who knows where the Allied airman is hiding; and takes responsibility for him - and his sister soon falls in love with the airman after bandaging his wounds. The action (all rather nicely shot, against the snow-bound landscape) unfolds around a gripping tale of betrayal, loyalties and reprisals; and ending with a couple of unlikely plot-twists.

While this film was apparently wildly popular in Holland, it received quite a few hostile reviews here, which I thought were unfair. It's true that showing a harrowing scene in silent slow-motion has been done before and might be thought of a cliched, but is a technique that rater closely mirrors the way in which memory works; and so its use isn't as dreadful as some reviewers might suggest. It might be true that this isn't a film bursting with action, or making huge statements; but I thought it was gripping, and the characters engaging and the acting strong. My gauge is watching films such as this, is whether I care about the fate of the characters or not. Some films just fall totally flat on this score, and I find myself counting the minutes until the credits roll. Poor writing, lack of character development, or just wooden acting can all act as a switch-off to engagement with a film; but despite some of the critics moans; I found that I really did care about these characters as the film built to its conclusion. Would Michiele negotiate the complexities of a situation that was way beyond him? Would the British airman survive his wounds, and the intense search for him by the Nazi's? Would Michele and his sister get caught protecting him? What would the resistance, and Michele's uncle do? Who kept betraying resistance men, and would the airman be handed over? Needless to say, all these pot lines converge into a surprising finale, which held my attention to the very last frame.

This film might not appear in the 'greatest films ever made' lists which appear all over the internet; but it's a fine piece of work; embedding a very believable story into a grim historical context and drawing the viewer in through the universal themes of childhood, loyalty, good v evil, danger, survival, betrayal and love.

Along the Borders Railway

My much anticipated escape to the mountains this week was postponed because of the weather. First the 'Beast from the East' has moved Winter conditions right back into what should be Spring; bringing a late, huge depth of snow to the mountains. Then, the immediate forecast this week has brought further snow to Scotland, making conditions (for a solo-walker like me, at least), impossible. It has been a horrible year for mountain accidents, avalanches, and folks getting lost or killed. Mountain rescue services across the country have been called out again and again, sometimes with happy endings, sometimes not. I noticed that a few days ago a search was abandoned for a missing walker, whose remains presumably won't be recovered until the snow retreats from the High Mountains.

Much as I love the mountains, I need to stay alive, not least to collect my family from their various travels at the weekend. So instead of heading North, I drove southwards, to explore the Borders Railway - that section of the historic Waverley route which got bludgeoned by Beeching's Axe, and has re-opened in the last couple of years. My plan had been to go all the way on the train from Perth, but the best ticket available was a cheap day return for just over £50-. "Cheap" is presumably being used ironically in this context. Strangely, a return from Inverkeithing to Tweedbank cost only £12-, which meant a 25 minute shoot down the motorway, and into the Park and Ride car park, to jump on a train making it's way down from Perth to Edinburgh Waverley! This is such a mad example of pricing forcing people to use cars that I asked the ticket seller at Inverkeithing why this was the case. She had no idea, but upon checking it on her screen assured me that I could have got a Perth ticket for between £30-£35, had I gone into the station, not just checking online; before admitting that the whole thing was indeed a bit mad. So Scotrail ran a mostly empty-train from Perth to Inverkeithing, missed out on a fare, and had I been on the train, would have bought my coffee in their facilities, not elsewhere.

The ride from from Inverkeithing to Waverley is one I know well, and the views over the Forth, now resplendent with its extra bridge, are magnificent. Waverley Station is a wonderful place too, with trains coming and going to all corners of the UK. It seems to be a building site a lot of the time these days, as services are increased and new platforms needed along with overhead cabling. I hope that the end result does the great Victorian structure justice; the tendency to litter such places with view-obscuring walls, kiosks, and signs robs them of the sense of space and size which their designers aimed for. They weren't meant to be compartmentalised but to be industrial cathedrals, meant to impress the visitor with the simultaneous sight of a London Express pulling southwards, with Glasgow and Northern trains pulling away on the other side.

The new Borders Railway train was waiting for me in the building site end of the station, facing the tunnels at the east end. You probably don't want to know that it was a two-car, 156 unit; but you might want to know that it was a clapped out piece of 1980s British Rail technology that was in need of replacement. It seems a shame to open a 'new' railway with rolling stock that is neither new enough to impress, nor old enough to have any nostalgic chic; but just tired, uncomfortable noisy machines which have been retired from other lines. After the tannoy announcement about the station being a 'non-smoking environment', the driver tried to start the train. Nasty, oily smoke duly poured out from under the carriage. Not, I should add, good old-fashioned clag, coming out of the exhaust; but billowing out from underneath and gusting around the platform. Nice. I was once on a train that caught fire, and I really thought it was happening again here, but it seemed to pass as the old thing warmed up. The train that caught fire was a much newer Turbostar, on a Glasgow-Aberdeen service. Somewhere just before Blackford the rear carriage filled with smoke, and the unit was diverted into a siding. The guard dealt with the passengers, while the driver (apparently) shut down the flaming motor at the rear. The driver then went along the track and used a phone to the signalman, while the guard took the fire extinguisher to the under side of the train, before climbing back on board to re-assure the passengers, and sealing off the affected part of the train - and making sure that passengers at the subsequent stop (Gleneagles) didn't try and board it. Why the convoluted explanation? Simply because, at the moment there is a dispute between train staff and some rail companies about whether they should cut costs and have driver-only trains. My experience is that driver-only operation makes economic sense, most of the time - but I don't think that incident could have been managed safely by one person. A driver alone could not have been negotiating with signals, moving passengers, putting out the fire, and communicating with the public. A potentially dangerous situation did not become a crisis, because this two-man Scotrail team new exactly what they were doing, and it was a two-man job. Eventually the train limped on to Perth on reduced power, where it was parked, and ongoing passengers taken to a bus.

The clunky old train I was on stopped smoking and pulled out of Waverley onto the East Coast Main Line, perfectly on time. The Borders Railway has been plagued by late running, but my train, despite its age was on time as we accelerated away from Holyrood and out past Meadowbank stadium and Craigintinny Rail Depot. Scotrail's latest second hand trains were in evidence there, old High Speed Trains (once known as Intercity 125's) displaced by overhead cables and electric trains from Paddington; coming North to add capacity to the system here; just as elderly displaced Gresley A4's once did when displaced by Deltics on the ECML. Peeling off the main line and into Brunstane, the first stop on the line, I was struck between the elegance of Waverley and the sterile functionality of the modern station, a picture which is re-enforced at Newcraighall's brutal park and ride; the terminus of this line from 2002-2015.

After Shawfair, the line breaches the city bypass and rapidly becomes a rural line, as hills, farms and castles replace flats, car-tyre companies and DIY Stores. The land is complex, folded, and pierced by meandering rivers, and the railway line, with its miles of bridges, cuttings and embankments twists and turns its way through the undulations. Before long the Lammermuir Hills of Walter Scott's novels rose up around the train, as it battered forward into driving snow. The line is a strange combination of old and new. Old cuttings and stone works, which have weathered into the landscape, jostle alongside garish modernity - steel, chrome and extreme security fencing, which make the railway look more like a scene from Escape from Alcatrazz than The Railway Children. This is especially grim around Galashiels, but mars the route elsewhere too. I wonder why for all the years of railway travel, people managed not to wander onto the tracks without the Berlin Wall being erected alongside them, but these days we are considered to be stupid enough to need to be corralled behind these vicious barriers? 

The train was on time when we reached Galashiels, and onto the terminus. That is good, but when the average speed was somewhere in the low 30mph's that is hardly ambitious for a modern railway, and not a huge amount more than a volunteer run steam railway might aim for, purely for nostalgia - not a public service. The problem is that while there is evidence of massive engineering works, the railway is in places chronically under-engineered. The original railway was a double-track mainline throughout, and used to run all the way to Carlisle. The lack of passing loops means that any one problem is amplified throughout the system. There seems to be little ambition to move freight on the line. Railway experts repeatedly drew this shortcoming the Scottish Government, but their was little acknowledgement.

Then the train just stops. There doesn't seem to be any reason for the line to end at Tweedbank, it just does. The old trackbed continues, uninterrupted towards Melrose, but the buffers appear and the trains just stop. The tiny trains empty out their passengers onto extraordinarily long platforms, with no buildings, or even run-around loops should any kind of loco ever venture this far. The waiting rooms are like bus shelters, open to the elements and freezing, as I would discover on my return. The whole plan and design of the place looks as if the architect was saying - 'Don't Stop Here', keep building! As it is, a two-mile walking route leads on down the line to Melrose, a steady 35 minute walk, to the Abbey, before my return to the ice-bound station and another terrible old train back to Edinburgh; perfectly on time.

It's great that the rail network has re-penetrated this once-abandoned part of the country, let's hope that the likes of St Andrews, and the Fife Coast regain their lost lines too. But it does feel half-finished, in length, in speed, in infrastructure and in rolling stock; perhaps finishing this one might need to be done before they move on?

Melrose Abbey

Ardoch Roman Fort

 What have the Romans Ever done for us? Well, they left these lovely earthworks near Braco, for a start.

Ardoch

Happy Easter