Show Hide image

Laurie Penny: Don’t judge Catholics by the Pope

Despite evidence to the contrary, there are still people doing beautiful things in the name of religion.

Britons, beware. As the nation prepares for the Pope's visit, Catholic dissidents are making trouble in the countryside again.

On 6 August, one priest and two lay worshippers crept up to the perimeter of the Aldermaston nuclear weapons base and cut a hole in the fence, attaching a sign on the new doorway bearing the legend "Open for Disarmament: All Welcome". The three then knelt down inside the base and prayed.

In statement following the protest, the demonstrators, two of whom had previously served prison sentences for anti-nuclear action, said: "We come inspired by the message of Jesus to love our enemies, to be peacemakers and to act non-violently at all times." Parents, lock up your children: the fundamentalists are coming.

In a world where organised religion is very often a cipher for co-ordinated homophobia, misogyny and dogmatic social control, it's good to know that people can still do brave and beautiful things in the name of faith. These are the sorts of Catholics we should be inviting to speak around the country -- not former card-carrying fascists with personal responsibility for covering up institutional child abuse, opposing sexual health initiatives and promoting discrimination against women and homosexuals across the world.

This story gave me pause for thought, as I'm working on a longer article about anti-Catholicism and why the snowballing Protest The Pope movement has little to do with the Catholic faith itself, but everything to do with the barbaric, anti-humanist dogma peddled by members of the Catholic hierarchy.

Of course, like any arbitrary belief system, the faith can also be bloody silly. As a heathen unbeliever from a lapsed Maltese Catholic family, I am still mystified why some of my relatives regularly attend mass hallucination parties where everyone pretends that bits of wafer blessed by a celibate in a robe are magically transformed on the tongue into gruesome chunks of dead prophet.

On the other hand, I've got secular friends who believe that the Horrors are a good band, or that the Liberal Democrats are a party of the left. Judge not, lest ye be judged.

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.