A Letter about Europe

Dear Frans Timmermans,

Thank you for your letter about Brexit that was published in the Guardian on Boxing Day. I was touched to read it. It’s as if you’d bothered to write to me personally with a generous, kind Christmas message. I’m sure a great many other British people were heartened too. And I don’t simply mean Remainers like me. I imagine fair-minded Brexiters will also have appreciated your affection for our country, your sorrow at this parting of friends, your hope that despite everything we continue to be good colleagues, partners and, yes, family members of this continent of Europe that is our common home.

But I’m only speaking for myself in what follows. As this year draws to a close, I am more than ever aware of my deep personal relationship with continental Europe: of my debt of gratitude for the ways our continent has formed and shaped me, and therefore of an intense sadness at the loosening of the ties that bind us together as Europeans. You’ve told us about your own past that has given you your love for Britain and the British. Let me tell you a little about mine.

The day your letter appeared in the Guardian, 26 December, was my grandmother’s birthday. Omummy, as we called her, would have been 125 or thereabouts - she never admitted to her age, only that she had been born in the early years of Kaiser Wilhelm’s reign. For she was German, born in Cologne, brought up in an assimilated middle class Jewish family in that Rhineland city. She married a fellow liberal Jewish man from downstream Düsseldorf, where he owned a factory that produced quality leather goods. They bought a large nineteenth century house in the Goethestraße and brought up their two children there, my uncle Karl and my mother Dorothea.

I needn’t tell you what befell my family when the Nazis came to power. My mother and uncle were sent to England as teenagers and made their lives here. My grandparents fled to the Netherlands - your own country - and when the Germans occupied it, were hidden underground in Edam by two devout evangelical sisters who looked after them for three long years. Amazingly, they survived. My grandfather died soon afterwards, but my grandmother eventually came to Britain where she lived to a great age. My mother married an Englishman, and my sister and I were born in London where we were brought up.

So in my childhood, three countries featured strongly in my growing awareness of who and what I was - Germany, the Netherlands and Britain. My mother was fluent in all three languages. We spoke a lot of German at home. My grandmother would sit me on her knee at the piano and play Bach, Beethoven and Schubert to me. Leather bound volumes of Goethe and Schiller lined the top shelves of the living room bookcase (as they now line mine). We often visited Germany and the Netherlands, and later on, France and Spain. We didn’t need to discuss “being European”. It was taken for granted that this was what we were. It belonged to our family’s DNA. It was part of our identity.

When the UK joined the European Union in 1973, I don’t recall great family celebrations. It was simply the obvious thing to do to go with the flow of history. Not only for Britain’s economic benefit but (and you’ll understand why this was so important for my family) to guarantee peace across the continent so that my generation wouldn’t have to face the grim ordeals my parents’ and their parents’ generations had undergone.

In the summer of referendum year 2016, my (widowed) mother lay dying in a north London hospital. Many of the nurses who cared for her so well were from EU countries. We talked about the coming vote. “We won’t do anything so stupid as to leave the EU, will we?” she asked me several times. “I so hope not” I replied. “I think the British have more sense than that.” I was wrong. I could tell how painful the Brexit vote was for her. We didn’t speak much about it. She died three weeks later. I’m glad she did not live to see it become a reality as we shall do at the end of January.

Why am I telling you all this? Because you were kind enough to reassure us that you wouldn’t stop seeing Britain as part of the European family of peoples. I can’t tell you how important it was to read those words. For me, with my personal history, being European is a fundamental part of my identity. I can no more contemplate losing my EU passport than I can ceasing to hold a UK one. It’s not simply that to me, all the arguments point to Britain continuing to be a member state - economic, political, historical, cultural, environmental. There’s a sentient dimension too. It’s a matter of the emotions. To me, the EU circle of yellow stars on their deep blue field evokes just as as much a sense of loyalty, belonging and gratitude as the Union Flag does. I recognise myself in these symbols. My past, present and future are bound up in them. They are signs of the family I belong to.

Or were. It’s hard not to feel profoundly dislocated by the Brexit vote and its aftermath. I won’t deny that the last day of January will be difficult. I’m trying to learn how to live with the inevitability of no longer being a European citizen for a while*. There’s no point in being bitter about it or going on rehearsing the reasons why to many of us, Brexit is such a terrible prospect. We thought we’d made the case for remaining, but it turned out that we lost that argument. Perhaps none of us recognised until it was too late that this was always about much more than merely rational argument. What I’ve explained about my family history perhaps tells you why. For it really feels like an imminent amputation. I reckon Brexiters find that an absurdly overblown image. I find it just as baffling that some people can be so matter of fact about it.

But your generous letter shows us that even after Brexit, we British can, indeed should, go on thinking of ourselves as Europeans. And to be fair to some of my Brexiter friends, this is something they have been saying too. It’s reassuring that on the European mainland, you and many others regard us in this way. Thank you. It means a great deal. I feel profoundly sad that it’s come to this parting of friends. But in case no-one else thinks of saying it, thank you for all the ways in which our decades of EU membership have enriched this country since the 1970s.

So happy new year! And here’s to our continued friendship and collaboration with the other nations of our European homeland in the decade that lies ahead.

With best wishes
Michael

*PS Just to clarify: I’m not entertaining hopes that the UK will rejoin the EU in my lifetime. There are lost causes that even I am learning to accept. I simply mean that I intend to apply for dual German citizenship on the grounds of my mother having been stripped of her German nationality and rendered stateless through her exile by the Nazis. I’m not making any assumptions, but I’ve now been sent the application forms by the German Embassy. They have been extremely helpful in my contacts with them so far.

After the Vote: a Church of England Statement?

After the Commons vote on Mrs May’s Brexit deal on Tuesday, the Church of Scotland was quick to issue a statement.

I’ve been tracking the Church of England’s media feed since the vote, thinking that at a time of national crisis, Britain’s other national church would be bound to say something that could help people of faith - maybe others - try to reflect on the position our nation is now in. I’ve been surprised, and I have to say disappointed, that so far, there has been no official comment.

So in the absence of any statement, and conscious that it’s hard to improve on the Church of Scotland’s wise words, here’s my own attempt. The Church of England is welcome to adopt it without attribution if it wishes. And while my personal view of Brexit is well-known to readers of this blog, I’ve genuinely tried to make this comment as inclusive as possible.

The Church of England is dismayed that following this week’s vote on the Prime Minister’s Brexit deal in the House of Commons, our nation now finds itself in an impasse. And this just ten short weeks before the date we are due to leave the European Union. We cannot exaggerate the dangers this poses to the United Kingdom. 

Our Church is privileged to serve one of its four nations, and this means that we care deeply about the welfare of England, its destiny, and its contribution to the flourishing of the United Kingdom, Europe and the world. Because of that, we would like to offer a comment on the position our nation is now in.

Our Church is probably no more united on Brexit than the population as a whole. This is one of many matters where the Church of England needs to live courteously with difference. But we believe, as we think most parliamentarians and most of the British public believe, that to leave the EU without any deal in place would be profoundly damaging to the UK. And we are afraid that it is the poorest and most dependent of our society who would be damaged the most. Our present paralysis is therefore a cause of great concern.

We say this out of concern not only for our future trading relationships with the EU, but also for the many other ways in which our collaboration with the European Union will continue to be of immense importance to this nation. We mean our shared concern for human rights, justice, employment practice, the alleviation of poverty, security, peacemaking and the conservation of the environment. We also mean our participation in scientific, medical, cultural and educational programmes that have benefitted all the EU nations and which we believe most people would want to see continue in some form. The UK has shown leadership in all these areas, and we would not want to see these opportunities vanish on 29 March. 

We are also deeply aware of the predicament Brexit poses to our friends from overseas EU nations who have made their home in the UK, and for British people living in those EU27 nations. A “no-deal” Brexit would have a severe impact on them and on their livelihoods. We owe it to them to make sure that they have security about their future, and this lends urgency to the task of negotiating an acceptable divorce settlement and future relationships as nations. 

We urge our Parliamentarians to put the nation’s welfare above party loyalties by finding every possible way of working together to find a way forward that can win consensus. This is not a time for taking up doctrinaire positions. It is not only vital that Parliament rediscovers a sense of common purpose. It is now very urgent indeed that we emerge from this current paralysis.

It has often been said that leaving the European Union does not mean leaving the continent of Europe. So we urge all the peoples of Britain to continue to be good friends, neighbours and allies to the nations of our continent, in whatever ways our future relationships are configured. This is unknown at present. But despite so much uncertainty, we urge our leaders at least to have regard for the many values the European family of nations has in common. 

What can the Church of England offer at this critical time? 

First, as our neighbours in the Church of Scotland have already said, we can try to model respect and courtesy in the way we ourselves as church members handle issues that deeply divide people. Archbishop Justin Welby has coined the phrase “good disagreement”. Our national conversation about Brexit has become violent and abusive at times. We must resist this, and instead embody what it means to treat one another as humans who are created in God’s image, whatever our political or religious convictions. We make our plea to all politicians and those in public leadership roles to take great care in the ways they express themselves. And this of course extends to all of us, not least in our use of social media. 

Secondly, we can promise to say our prayers. This isn’t about finding answers to our political dilemmas so much as holding the nation in our hearts and offering our present cares and concerns to the God who, we believe, cares as much about continents and nations as he does about individuals. And even if prayer is not everyone’s instinctive response at such times as these, perhaps there are more people than we imagine who find comfort in the knowledge that prayer is being offered in the cathedrals and churches right across our land on behalf of us all.

Thirdly, if there are concrete ways in which the Church of England can act as bridge-builders or reconcilers at this time of uncertainty, or beyond, we stand ready to contribute in any way we can. In this, we believe we speak for Christian leaders of every tradition and in every part of the kingdom. And for all people of goodwill, whatever their faith, politics, culture or origin. Together, we can find find possibility and hope even in the most troubled of times. We pray so.

UPDATE. As I was publishing this, the Archbishops of Canterbury and York released a short statement supporting the call to prayer issued by Churches Together in Britain and Ireland (CTBI).

What is the Vocation of Britain in Europe?

It sounds like a grand rhetorical gesture to ask this kind of question. What prompts it is a recent piece by Angela Tilby on the EU referendum in the Church Times. She asks whether the UK has a 'vocation' to belong to the EU, given its historic religious, cultural and political roots in continental Europe.

I like the idea that peoples and nations can have a vocation. I imagine that this is a way of saying two things. The first is that the existence of nations and peoples is not a matter of chance but is somehow meant. A theologian will want to say that it belongs to the process of creation, and as the Abrahamic faiths present it, this is not random but intentional. In its mythic account of human origins, the Book of Genesis traces the existence of the known world's peoples back to the beginnings of humanity itself. I read this as saying that the concepts of order and pattern that 'creation' represents are continued into history as the human family organises itself into differently shaped communities in particular places.

So if peoples and nations exist not through accident but artistry, then purpose and destiny become interesting dimensions to ponder. They aren't different in principle from questions of personal destiny ('why am I here?') and collective destiny ('why are we all here?' 'What is the human race for?'). Some may say that these questions are ultimately unanswerable because they are not well formed in the fist place. Nevertheless, we find ourselves asking them which perhaps says something about their validity. So if theology can pose these other questions about humanity as a whole and myself as part of it, I think we can ask the same question of a nation or a people.

There are risks. Here in Britain, our forebears talked about the colonisation and empire as 'civilising' or 'Christianising' the world. Triumphalist lyrics like Rule Britannia! and Land of Hope and Glory are poetic ways of celebrating (or misunderstanding) the idea of a national vocation. The emergence of nation states in post medieval Europe was bound to give rise to this kind of sentiment: it was natural for each nation to give a reason for its very existence by talking or singing it up. National anthems across the world express vocational ideals and aspirations (Britain's is an interesting exception to this rule because it is not really about nationhood, rather its focus is the person of the Sovereign).

But I think we can still talk more modestly about a 'national vocation'. Maybe that's a way of talking about a nation's soul. For instance, when we allude to England as the 'mother of parliaments' we mean that our democratic constitution and parliamentary processes model a politics that can be, and has been, offered as a gift for others to emulate and adapt according to their own vocation and way of being. This 800th anniversary year has linked our politics and judicial system to the first sealing of Magna Carta in 1215. I was struck at Runnymede by how much of the discourse around the Great Charter was couched in terms of England's 'gift to the world', especially among American commentators.

The EU referendum is making us ask questions about Britain and our place in Europe. But much of the campaigning talk both for and against membership goes beyond the pragmatic implications of staying in or leaving. There is a subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) vocational subtext about what the United Kingdom really is in itself, what it means to be true to its historic identity, and how it can best realise its potential. But we can't explore those questions without also asking what the European Union is for, how its member states contribute to the achieving of its purpose, and whether we want to be part of its vocation or not. Is it primarily about economic co-operation and the single market? Or is it about politics, peace-keeping and policy-making across nations?

The EU's treaties and founding documents set out its core values. They are: human dignity, freedom, democracy, equality, the rule of law and respect for human rights. They speak of the aspiration to be 'an ever growing union of peoples'. They celebrate the (relative) freedom from conflict of this historically war-torn continent since the middle of the twentieth century. They celebrate European heritage and culture as a gift to the world. (I wish they mentioned religion too, because of the absolutely central role Christianity, Judaism and Islam have played in the shaping of the continent since Roman times. I may try and say something about this in relation to the 'soul' of Europe one day.)

So what is the vocation of Europe? Here's my suggestion. It's to model how independent nations can freely and democratically associate in a union that puts the common good before narrow self-interest, and offers to the world both a model of collaboration and common purpose, and contributes to the global quest for justice, peace and the integrity of creation. This is what I see our common European home standing for. As I argued in my last blog, Britain has everything to give to this noble task, all that makes it such a good place to live in, all that makes us love it. This is why for many partner nations, a European Union without Britain is unthinkable.

So I'm baffled by the hostility to  the EU that I see all around, not just in this country but across the continent. Call me naïve (I'm sure many will) but the European project, this experiment that has done so much for our continent, is where I see national and global vocations begin to converge, and that has to point to a kinder, better, more peaceable and more just world. It's not a case of sacrificing our precious national identity. Rather, it's precisely by cherishing it that we, with every other EU nation, bring our distinctive gifts to the fashioning of a whole that is greater (and yes, more glorious) than the sum of its parts.

It's a call for us to be grateful for what we prize, and share it generously. It's also a call for us to be open to receive what other nations have to give. This mutuality is what true God-given community is all about. It's what 'family' means. Why would the UK not want to be part of this humane and visionary enterprise?