WALKING down the steps of Lambeth Palace after listening to
Archbishop Welby's views on the Middle East, and the plight of
Christians there, I realised that I had been left with one strong
impression: he is a firm believer in the art of the possible.
To put it the other way round, he will not, at the cost of
disappointing people, be tempted into actions that look to him to
be impossible.
It is, perhaps, wise to adopt a pragmatic attitude towards such
a complex and dangerous region, where the minority - and shrinking
- Christian community is under threat from militant Islam,
territorial wars, and economic woes. The conflict in Syria, the
instability in Egypt and Iraq, and the long-running
Israeli-Palestinian crisis are among the many apparently insoluble
problems of the Middle East.
Furthermore, the region must compete with other foreign issues
for the time and attention of the new Archbishop, still in his
first year, not to mention the vast range of contentious domestic
matters with which he has been presented.
Yet Archbishop Welby, who spent his honeymoon in the Holy Land,
and has long been involved in the region through the reconciliation
work begun when he was a canon of Coventry Cathedral, says that the
land where Christ was born continues to be at the forefront of his
mind: "There is this extraordinary power about the place, the whole
of the Levant, which I find both fascinating and gripping."
But, despite his interest in the region and knowledge of it,
Archbishop Welby says he likes to take special care when speaking
out on issues in an area such as the Middle East. The first thing
to learn "is that you are deeply and profoundly ignorant, and
therefore often the less said the better, at least in public,
because most times we say something in public, we tend to put our
foot in it".
Reversing the received wisdom, he says that, having had more
experience with Nigeria and West Africa, "I have a much profounder
sense of my own ignorance there than I do in the Middle East; so I
say more about those. But the Middle East I do watch very
carefully."
ARAB Christians may feel reassured to know that they are being
watched by the Church in the West. But, in my experience, they are
likely to derive more comfort from public prayers or messages of
support. In the nearly two decades of covering the Middle East for
the Church Times, I have noticed that, in general, Roman
Catholic churchmen are much less reticent than Anglicans in this
respect. Pope Francis, in particular, takes every opportunity to
express publicly his views on the region, stating forthrightly the
other day, for example, that the Roman Catholic Church would "not
accept a Middle East without Christians".
The Archbishop paused before reacting to this. "Historically,
Christians have [played], and to this day, play an absolutely
integral part in the cultural, political, social, educational,
financial, and commercial life of the Middle East - as well as the
religious life, which is obvious. Without them, the Middle East
would be a totally different place. They've been there for 2000
years."
He agrees, too, that the idea of a Middle East without
Christians is unimaginable, but he is not as pessimistic as many
others about their future. Christian communities in the region "are
going through an atrocious time, but probably not the worst they've
ever gone through. At the heart of it, there has to be a trust in
the providence of God who has guided them, and kept them and
protected them over two millennia, and will continue to do so. So I
am very conscious of the pressures on them, but not frightened or
worried."
Accurate as this may be, the thousands of Syrian Christian
families affected by war will hardly be comforted by the
Archbishop's long view of history.
There can be no doubt that Christians in the Middle East have a
strong desire to hear from Western church leaders, including the
Archbishop of Canterbury. A week before my interview with
Archbishop Welby, I asked the Anglican Bishop in Egypt, the Most
Revd Mouneer Anis, whether his congregation wanted me to ask any
questions on their behalf. They did. At the top of the list was:
"What kind of support can Canterbury and the rest of the Anglican
Communion give to the Christians in the Middle East at this time of
uncertainty?"
Archbishop Welby suggested three ways of helping them. The first
was through "consistent, persistent, and fervent prayer". Middle
Eastern Christians, he continued, "are prayed for across the Church
in the West daily - certainly here every single day. It always
sounds, when you say that, like a cop-out. But actually prayer is
not a cop-out: it's engaging with a God who changes history. The
core of our belief is that that makes a difference."
The second area involves assuring Christians in the Middle East
that they are not forgotten, by going on pilgrimages to the region
and engaging with the communities there. Third, the Church of
England, away from the public gaze, will go on raising key issues
with the British Government and others.
ANOTHER related question submitted by Christians in Egypt asked
how the West could help them without imposing Western values, such
as those of particular brands of democracy, thus exposing
Christians to Muslim accusations of complicity.
"It's a lesson we've got to learn," the Archbishop said. "All
over the world, not just in the Middle East. One of the great
challenges in the time of the internet, when everything is so
instantly visible, is that there is much more of a sense of
cultures being imperialistic. We've got to be extraordinarily
careful and respectful about that."
But there were sound theological reasons why Western Christians
should speak up for democracy, among them "the benefits of a
society that imitates the freedom that God gives us to make
choices, good and bad. Freedom of choice springs out of the nature
of God and what he has put into the spirit of the human being. It's
a theological point. How that is expressed will be different in
different cultures. But the idea of freedom is very, very
important."
Freedom and democracy are notions still far from the surface in
Syria, where Christians find themselves trapped and powerless in a
horrific conflict, pitting not only the Syrian army against rebel
fighters, but also jihadist Islamists against Kurds and other
groups that oppose the Assad regime. If reconciliation cannot be
achieved, Christianity's survival in Syria is not assured.
A Carmelite nun, Mother Agnes Mariam al-Salib of St James's
Monastery at Qara, in Syria, recently visited Lambeth Palace to
urge the Church of England to play a part in reconciliation. The
Archbishop's face became pained at the mention of Syria, and his
gaze shifted momentarily towards the ceiling. We were about to
enter the territory of the "impossible".
Syrian Christians, he said, "are unbelievably threatened at the
moment, by both sides, and in great danger. We would be delighted
to play a reconciliation role if there is one we can play. If
someone in a viable position on both sides says come and help,
we'll be on the next flight."
Without the existence of a magic wand, however, "nothing can be
done until people are willing to let something happen. If people
want to fight, they fight. When both sides think they can win, they
will go on fighting." Churches will confine their efforts, "with
enormous risks and considerable impact", to the vital part of
supporting the victims, the wounded, and refugees.
ANOTHER subject in the Archbishop's "impossible" category is the
Israel-Palestine question, where he also believes that the scope
for the Church's intervention is limited. He does not, for example,
plan to take the Israelis to task for settlement expansion on the
West Bank - widely regarded as one of the key obstacles to peace -
as many Palestinian Christians would, doubtless, like him to do. It
would be wrong, he said, to approach the issue with a partisan
agenda.
Instead, one should proceed "with a great deal of humility, and
a recognition of ignorance, a recognition of how essential it is
that the people of the area do the reconciliation. You cannot
impose reconciliation."
The Church's view, he continued, was that Israel had the same
rights as every other state. At the same time, all the peoples of
the region, including the Palestinians, "have the right to security
and peace within internationally agreed boundaries, and the right
to justice over issues of land, as do the Israelis. And that's a
circle that's incredibly difficult to square.
"All we can do as religious leaders, particularly with the
complexities of the history of the British in the Middle East with
the [Palestine] Mandate, is to go in with humility, follow the
situation very closely. Staff from Lambeth are in there almost
every month, talking to people - above all, listening to people -
seeing how we can add our own little bit to what is happening from
other people. You don't go in saying: 'It's OK: we're in here now -
you can relax.'"
Archbishop Welby was also keen to put to rest criticism in the
British press of his visit to the Holy Land when his itinerary
failed to include Bethhlehem. Did he now regret this omission?
"No," said. "I can't be everywhere. We were there for three days.
That was the longest I could get there without not going until
probably 2015. I was there as the guest of the Anglican Bishop in
Jerusalem, Bishop Suheil, who is a great person, and he set the
programme for the visit. It would have been grossly discourteous
for me to turn round and say 'Actually, I'm an outsider, but I know
a lot better than you do. This is how we're going to do it.' He set
the programme; we spent a lot of time in Ramallah. Doubtless, if
I'd gone to Bethlehem and not Ramallah, we'd have had the same
thing from other places." The Archbishop said he would have loved
to go to Jenin and Nazareth, while "Bethlehem is a place I'm
gripped by. We tried very hard to get there. It just couldn't be
done."
AS ARAB Christians wait to hear when the Archbishop next plans to
visit the region, they may feel a sense of disappointment at his
caution over Syria and Palestine. But they will be pleased that he
intends to work towards Christian-Muslim reconciliation by
encouraging a focus on Christianity's Middle Eastern roots, thus
addressing the frequent accusation that these have been forgotten
in the West.
"Christ is not a middle-class Englishman or American," the
Archbishop said, "but a first-century Jew in his humanity, and God
himself in his divinity." By emphasising this point, he continued,
it would be easier for the West to find common ground with both
Muslims and Christians in the Middle East.
"I think it's very important to emphasise the roots and the
context of the life of Christ, because that's the only way of
beginning to make any sense of what you hear him saying in the
Gospels."
The Archbishop recommends, for further reading, Kenneth Bailey's
Poet and Peasant, to understand how differently from us
Arabs react to and interpret the parables. The more one looks at
the New Testament through these eyes, Archbishop Welby says, "the
richer you find the texture and the depth of what Jesus is saying.
When you do that with a church congregation, people get wildly
excited. They begin to see that this is world-changing, not just
traditional English."
The Archbishop's final words, as Christmas approaches, were
addressed to Arab Christians, many of whom are under fire in Syria,
freezing in snow-covered refugee camps, or facing an uncertain
future in the face of expanding Islamist influence: "We remember
you; we love you; we will do everything we can to help you -
whenever we are given an opportunity to do so in a way that can
make a difference." Thus speaks a true practitioner of the art of
the possible.