• The #syriavote is not so simple really

    Like many people in the UK, I spent much of yesterday dipping into what was happening in parliament as a long debate took place as to whether this country should engage in military action against ISIL in Syria.

    I once had aspirations to be an MP and that always makes me wonder which division lobby I would have walked into when these moments of national drama take place.

    In this instance I am almost sure that I would have walked into the nay lobby – I’d have voted against extending military action in Syria.

    However, I don’t find this a simple question. It is far more complex than my twitter feed seems to be suggesting. And this morning I’m not rushing to add #notinmyname hashtags to everything. This is a case where I can see merit on both side of the question and I find that my gut reaction which is to be against military action is more pragmatic than ideological.

    I happen not to be a pacifist. I am not a pacifist because I think that sometimes there are evils that may need to be defeated by force. The obvious and classic example is that I think that the allied forces were right to be deployed to defeat Nazism. It was an ideology that threatened all of Europe with its evil. Some things are worth fighting against.

    It is my suspicion that ISIL is something worth fighting against that would have made me pause before casting a vote had I been in parliament last night. I find myself having sympathy with Hilary Benn who identified the threat from ISIL as being the fascism of the day. So many of the same themes emerge – death to the Jews, death to the gays, murderous sectarianism and a direct opposition to democracy. The fact that it now uses terrorism on Western streets and wickedly distorts Islam for its own ends shouldn’t blind us to the fact that we’ve seen fascism before and have believed it should be fought.

    And that’s why I can see that there’s a case for action.

    My problem is largely because I can’t see the action being particularly likely to succeed which is one of the conditions of using force in just war theory.

    I can’t really see that there’s a plan for post conflict rebuilding of Syria yet. I can’t really see how another two bombers will make that much difference – the Americans have been bombing ISIL targets for months and don’t seem to me to have solved the problem. It is inevitable that civilians will die in this action. It is difficult to believe that the action will meet the test of proportionality. I also don’t really believe that you can bomb ideas out of existence.

    And so I find myself believing action to be wrong for pragmatic reasons whilst believing that ISIL should be confronted for ideological reasons. And that would have given me a terrible dilemma has I been in parliament.

    Two things emerged yesterday which I found contemptible. Firstly the Prime Minister’s assertion that those who were against action were terrorist sympathisers. It was beneath the dignity of his office to make such a claim and he should have apologised. Secondly, those who are trying to co-opt this question for the sake of Scottish Nationalism. It should be beneath our dignity as the people of Scotland to co-opt this terrible decision for our local politics. Whether one likes it or not, Scotland chose to remain part of the UK and the UK parliament has made a decision. Being democrats means that sometimes we have to respect the democratic decisions that are made that we don’t like. That’s what being a democrat actually is. That means those who don’t like the result of the Scottish Referendum need to accept that the people of Scotland made an informed choice. It is our parliament that made the decision last night – a decision I happen to find it difficult to support. It is a parliament that the people of Scotland chose to remain a part of. Using ISIL to make cheap nationalist points in this country appals me. If we don’t accept democratic decision making (the referendum, the workings of parliament in which we are all represented etc) then we begin to lose the moral right to stand against the forces which rage against democracy wherever we encounter them.

    We encounter them in ISIL. The question at hand is how to oppose them.

    Last night I think that I would have voted against the government and against the use of force in Syria. However I would have done so with a heavy heart. It is just possible that after listening to the debates I might have voted with the government and for the use of force against the evils of ISIL. I would have done so with an even heavier heart though I would have done so hoping that if my own land was being conquered by fascists, then other countries would intervene.

    That’s why this issue is more complex than my twitter feed seems to find it.

9 responses to “Turning Up and Being Counted”

  1. Lesley-Ann craddock Avatar
    Lesley-Ann craddock

    Thank you Kelvin
    What a read, I really enjoyed it, all of it. You have touched on the 3 things that I too have been wrestling with.
    Liturgy , turning up to be counted, and being open and real with our peers and counterparts.
    Hmmm I wonder if those aspects of being church in this post pandemic implosion of society will somehow be a catalyst to become braver clergy and have proper discussions about what matters to Gods church in its own context. Can we be diverse and not divided, can we lock into our heritage and yet be able to change too. Can Branson pickle save us. X

  2. Christine McIntosh Avatar
    Christine McIntosh

    Great stuff, Kelvin!

  3. Robert MacDonald Avatar
    Robert MacDonald

    Good points well made. We find some church members, who organise a community lunch on a Wednesday, then regularly say ‘we won’t make it on Sunday’. Seems the wrong way round – attendance on a Sunday should come first.

  4. Peggy Brewer Avatar
    Peggy Brewer

    Reading this made my day and contributes to my celebration of the season! Thank you!

  5. Calum Wyllie Avatar
    Calum Wyllie

    Reading this, I feel like it could have been written about me. I couldn’t have been more deeply involved with my church (felt deeply rooted in the weekly liturgy, sat on the PCC, led on diversity and inclusion, set up online streaming for the first time during lockdown), yet I haven’t been back in two years. There is definitely an element of that link of continuity having been broken, and it’s up to me to make the effort to reforge it again. But the anger is also real, and hard to pin down. When somewhere no longer feels like home, when you feel excluded (even when that person was responsible for leading on inclusion!), how do you find the courage to return? When the link with spirituality feels more present in other places (even when I used to absolutely value liturgy, the Eucharist, the community), how do you find a way forward? Too much thinking, and not enough getting on and doing, perhaps…

  6. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    Wow–this article is not only thought-provoking, and, to someone who’s a church-goer, extremely easy to identify with, but also entertaining and therefore all the more memorable. As one whose parish church (in San Francisco’s notorious Haight Ashbury neighborhood) nowadays gets about 15 people in the congregation on a “good” day, I do often wonder whether we’re ever going to bounce back from this expletive-deleted pandemic. Personally, I have no choice: I am, on the aforementioned good day, 50% of the alto section, and on other days, 100% thereof. All you folks out there don’t know what you’re missing–except, of course, those of you who are watching on your home computers.

  7. Father Ron Smith Avatar

    Well said, Kelvin Perhaps we clergy don’t stress enough the fact that the Host at our worship is not the clergy, but the Incarnate Son of God; who empowers us to the extent that we are willing to be empowered for daily life and work. I still think of that lovely phrase “Turn towards HIM and be radiant”. What a thrill!

  8. Kennedy fraser Avatar
    Kennedy fraser

    Yes,I still wonder if we have counted all those spiritual communions

  9. John Davies Avatar
    John Davies

    My church (suburban, evangelical Anglican in Birmingham, UK) took a long time to really recover from the lockdown and subsequent fears, but seems to be close to its pre-shutdown numbers again. What my wife and I noticed was that for quite some time the congregation was largely made up of its elderly members – ie those who are not perhaps so nifty with the electronic gadgetry of our age and, also, those who most wanted company. Younger families took a lot longer to return, but are now coming out of the woodwork again.
    One interesting point is that my old church reported a big increase in deaf people watching their zoom or youtube services, because one of the congregation provided signage at the front. Their new found audience felt greatly enabled to join in when they may otherwise never have done so. Is this something worth thinking more about?

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