Time to "uninvent" the Reformation

Is this the Pope's hidden plan?

The Pope's visit to Britain this week has already aroused much excitement - much of it unwelcome. He can look forward to adverts on the sides of buses shouting "Pope Benedict - Ordain Women Now!". There will be vigorous opposition from the Protest the Pope movement, a broad coalition whose supporters include Southall Black Sisters, Peter Tatchell's Outrage!, the Council of Ex-Muslims and, thundering down from their Palmers Green fastness, the North London Humanists. And he will also have to avoid being arrested by Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, who feel His Holiness ought to be tried for "crimes against humanity".

With all this goodwill towards the Vatican in the air, this may not seem the most auspicious moment for a leading Catholic thinker to declare that what England really needs to do right now is to "uninvent the Reformation". But that's exactly what Professor Nicholas Boyle, President of Magdalene College, Cambridge, authority on European thought and theology and acclaimed biographer of Goethe, says is required.

"In the moment of Henry's breach with Rome the fracturing of Christendom began," writes Boyle in his most recent book, 2014: How To Survive the Next World Crisis. "How might we begin to envisage a new Christendom of which England might be a member as it once was of old?"

The Church of England could be forgiven for being a little alarmed at such talk. Following the Pope's announcement last year that he is creating "a canonical structure that provides for... corporate reunion" to hasten errant Anglicans back to the bosom of Holy Mother Church, this may sound like another attempt to reclaim "Mary's Dowry" for Rome. Even the late Cardinal Hume once let slip that he hoped for the "big moment of grace...the conversion of England for which we have prayed all these years."

Boyle certainly doesn't sound as though he'd be against that. "The Catholic church has a hotline to areas of society that politicians don't," says this energetic 64-year-old don, commended as "a critic of vivacious perspicacity" by George Steiner, when we meet for coffee at the British Academy in Carlton House Terrace. "It is concerned for the poor, the unemployed and the disadvantaged, and has a personal knowledge of them that even the most assiduous MPs don't have. If they do, you'll often find they're Catholics."

Mass conversion, however, is not quite his point. His thesis is that the Reformation is one of the causes of "that uncertainty about the national identity which continues down to our own day as the question 'are we English? Or British?'" In the sixteenth century, other European states (at least to begin with) remained united in Roman Christendom - "units within a larger structure, like colleges within a university," he says. Boyle's argument is that then, at the very point that an England newly separated from Rome began to think of itself as a modern nation, it was already confusing that sense of nationhood with the empire it was forging. Anglicanism and imperialism marched onwards, inextricably linked.

"That English nation was a creation of the British empire, like the English church it came into being in the 16th century." (Orwell's England, the one in which "the suet puddings and red pillar boxes have entered into your soul", was a late, but misleading, elegy to this.) Both, says Boyle, are now "obsolete"; and that presents challenges for both, as well. "England's protestant status was so bound up to empire, that when empire isn't there we have to think again."

Hmmm. Do we really? Yes, he says. "I think the UK will never know what it ought to do in Europe, with the United States and in the wider world, until it has rethought its history since the sixteenth century. It's no good saying you can't change the Act of Settlement," which provided in 1701, and continues to provide till this day, for the Protestant succession to the throne. "Everything that the act represents has changed. The empire has gone. The world around us has changed, and we haven't noticed that we've changed, too. Many of the unsatisfactory features of how Britain behaves in Europe, the hostility of campaigning atheists to the Pope's visit - much of this derives from an uncertainty about who we are."

So if we go back to that time, where does that leave England? "In fifteenth century Christendom it was one player, not the biggest, not the smallest either, in a multiplicity that was both religious, cultural and national, yet linked together by a common identity." The nation then was "not some aboriginal unit that comes into contact with other entities. The idea of the autonomy and sovereignty of a self-determining people doesn't go back much further than Woodrow Wilson." Supranational institutions like the League of Nations and the UN, says Boyle, "are bodies that unite only what they have previously divided. These apparently international bodies are a device for persuading us that originally we were all separate. This is one of the things the English have to learn."

Let's see: England sharing sovereignty and identity, uninventing the Reformation, being just one player in a modern Christendom. That couldn't be the European Union, could it? And if so, doesn't that confirm the suspicions of those who maintain that right from the signing of the Treaty of Rome (an unfortunate title in this context), the whole European project has been a Popish plot? Boyle laughs. "Well, it one sense it was. The founders were Catholic social thinkers. Schumann, Adenauer: these were people who did think of Europe as a social democratic reissue of Christendom. A lot of that continues. That's why it was totally absurd that the French were so against mentioning Christianity in the abortive EU constitution. That seems to me to be a denial of the facts."

None of this may strike Anglicans as terribly tempting. Bad luck to them, says Boyle. Their leaders have "been keeping alive a ghost of the church of empire." What does the future hold for them? "As far as the Church of England is concerned, it has a very good prospect as the Church of [only] England, ha, ha." Uninventing the Reformation might quite suit Prince Charles, I suggest, with his enthusiasm for being Defender of Faith rather than Defender of the Faith. "That is an abstraction," says Boyle. "From Hegel's point of view you can't be a defender of faith in general, it must be one faith in particular. But I don't expect the Prince of Wales to conduct himself according to the phenomenology of mind."

Ultimately, what Boyle is urging is an end to the idea of English exceptionalism and a reversion to a pre-Reformation universalism. "That's what Catholic means." He quotes the Gospel of St Matthew: "'Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations.' It's one of Christianity's foundational texts."

What would this vision mean, in practice? Boyle closes his new book with a summation. "That world of mercenaries and wandering scholars, when French was still written in England and Latin was spoken everywhere, can provide us with an example of how it is possible to live, and think of yourself, both as originating in a particular place or culture and as a member of a universal order." This new Europe, he writes, "will be a house with many mansions, most of which will not be recognisable to those who dwell in the nations of the past, but it will seem like home to those whose synapses can recall the still older Christendom."

A dream? Or a nightmare for Protestant Eurosceptics? Maybe. But as an alternative to a continent whose underlying unity is currently based, as Boyle asserts, on "Microsoft or global banking", perhaps not a bad one. I bet the Pope thinks so.

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
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The struggles of Huma Abedin

On the behind-the-scenes story of Hillary Clinton’s closest aide.

In a dreary campaign, it was a moment that shone: Hillary Clinton, on the road to the caucus in Iowa, stopping at a Mexican fast-food restaurant to eat and somehow passing unrecognised. Americans of all political persuasions gleefully speculated over what her order – a chicken burrito bowl with guacamole – revealed about her frame of mind, while supporters gloated that the grainy security-camera footage seemed to show Clinton with her wallet out, paying for her own lunch. Here was not the former first lady, senator and secretary of state, known to people all over the world. This was someone’s unassuming grandmother, getting some food with her colleagues.

It might be unheard of for Clinton to go unrecognised but, for the woman next to her at the till, blending into the background is part of the job. Huma Abedin, often referred to as Clinton’s “shadow” by the US media, is now the vice-chair of her presidential campaign. She was Clinton’s deputy chief of staff at the state department and has been a personal aide since the late 1990s.

Abedin first met Clinton in 1996 when she was 19 and an intern at the White House, assigned to the first lady’s office. She was born in Michigan in 1976 to an Indian father and a Pakistani mother. When Abedin was two, they moved from the US to Saudi Arabia. She returned when she was 18 to study at George Washington University in Washington, DC. Her father was an Islamic scholar who specialised in interfaith reconciliation – he died when she was 17 – and her mother is a professor of sociology.

While the role of “political body woman” may once have been a kind of modern maid, there to provide a close physical presence and to juggle the luggage and logistics, this is no longer the case. During almost 20 years at Clinton’s side, Abedin has advised her boss on everything from how to set up a fax machine – “Just pick up the phone and hang it up. And leave it hung up” – to policy on the Middle East. When thousands of Clinton’s emails were made public (because she had used a private, rather than a government, server for official communication), we glimpsed just how close they are. In an email from 2009, Clinton tells her aide: “Just knock on the door to the bedroom if it’s closed.”

Abedin shares something else with Clinton, outside of their professional ties. They are both political wives who have weathered their husbands’ scandals. In what felt like a Lewinsky affair for the digital age, in 2011, Abedin’s congressman husband, Anthony Weiner, resigned from office after it emerged that he had shared pictures of his genitals with strangers on social media. A second similar scandal then destroyed his attempt to be elected mayor of New York in 2013. In an ironic twist, it was Bill Clinton who officiated at Abedin’s and Weiner’s wedding in 2010. At the time, Hillary is reported to have said: “I have one daughter. But if I had a second daughter, it would [be] Huma.” Like her boss, Abedin stood by her husband and now Weiner is a house husband, caring for their four-year-old son, Jordan, while his wife is on the road.

Ellie Foreman-Peck

A documentary filmed during Weiner’s abortive mayoral campaign has just been released in the US. Weiner shows Abedin at her husband’s side, curtailing his more chaotic tendencies, always flawless with her red lipstick in place. Speaking to the New York Observer in 2007, three years before their marriage, Weiner said of his future wife: “This notion that Senator Clinton is a cool customer – I mean, I don’t dispute it, but the coolest customer in that whole operation is Huma . . . In fact, I think there’s some dispute as to whether Huma’s actually human.” In the film, watching her preternatural calm under extraordinary pressure, you can see what he means.

In recent months, Abedin’s role has changed. She is still to be found at Clinton’s side – as the burrito photo showed – but she is gradually taking a more visible role in the organisation overall, as they pivot away from the primaries to focus on the national race. She meets with potential donors and endorsers on Clinton’s behalf and sets strategy. When a running mate is chosen, you can be sure that Abedin will have had her say on who it is. There’s a grim symmetry to the way politics looks in the US now: on one side, the Republican candidate Donald Trump is calling for a ban on Muslims entering the country; on the other, the presumptive Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton relies ever more on her long-time Muslim-American staffer.

Years before Trump, notable Republicans were trying to make unpleasant capital out of Abedin’s background. In 2012, Tea Party supporters alleged that she was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and its attempt to gain access “to top Obama officials”. In her rare interviews, Abedin has spoken of how hurtful these baseless statements were to her family – her mother still lives in Saudi Arabia. Later, the senator and former Republican presidential candidate John McCain spoke up for her, saying that Abedin represented “what is best about America”.

Whether senior figures in his party would do the same now remains to be seen.

Caroline Crampton is web editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad