IN HIS Temple lecture — by now, presumably, the most read, or at least, most started, of his writings — Dr Williams mentions that fear has prompted many Muslim scholars to avoid mentioning sharia in public. By talking about sharia on their behalf, he presumably intended to open up the debate without attracting quite as much hostility as they would have done. It is debatable whether those scholars feel any less reluctant to broach the subject after this past week. Similarly, his intention might have been to make Muslims feel more accepted in the UK. Once again, few Muslims will feel that their faith is more acceptable now than it was a week ago.
On this score, then, Dr Williams’s intervention in Islamic life leaves room for improvement. The fact that the fault was not his, and that the prejudice, ignorance, and vitriol came unbidden from members of the public and sections of the media does not absolve him entirely from blame. But at least he knows what his new agenda is to be. Whatever the distractions the Anglican Communion provides, he must find some way to tackle the phobia about Muslims that has been growing uncontrolled since the attacks of 9/11.
Even more troubling, though, is the suggestion that the problem is a wider one. One of the most overlooked evangelistic assets of the Church of England is its ordinariness. Those who have no conception of faith are reassured when they discover that Christians eat, talk, dress, work, laugh, and argue as they do. Only when this is established do they begin to appreciate the extraordinariness that belief in God brings to these Christians. The reaction against sharia law is, at root, an anxiety about living alongside people who subscribe to different rules and appeal to a different authority. It is an exact parallel to the anxiety felt about “foreigners”, including Christians, in Islamic countries. It does not require a great stretch of the imagination to see this anxiety applying itself to Christians. At the moment, the secular world finds reassurance in mockery. This would change to outright opposition were it ever to feel that the Church was attempting to impose restrictions on it on the grounds of religious scruple. Sunday-trading laws are an interesting example of how religious principles have prevailed only in coalition with a secular force, the trade unions, and then only to a limited extent.
The British public tolerates faith communities, and is sometimes grateful to them, when they act as its conscience — when they participate in society, endorsing its strengths, working to improve its weaknesses. Whenever it perceives a threat, on the other hand, the public mood seems to plunge back a few centuries, to the times of popish plots and threats of invasion. During the past week, this mood was attached to the Muslims. As Dr Williams reflects on recent events, he might think what would happen if Christians came under similar condemnation. However unjustified it was, he should not shrug off his treatment as of no import.
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