Politics? It's just religion in an ill-fitting suit

Every few years, an event occurs that explains some of the more complex social constructs. It was the sense of community and patriotism in Britain in the 1940s that kept the country together during World War 2, and stopped it descending into a chaotic free for all. You could reasonably argue that neither exist in Britain today, and ask what would happen if we had to relive the Blitz today.

It’s been said, and is actually now something of a cliché, that the inauguration of John F. Kennedy brought an optimism to the world and especially America that resulted in initiatives like the Peace Corps and Freedom Riders. A whole generation, used to being directed and controlled by their elders, suddenly realised that it was within their own gift to take command of their destiny, and forge their own path. The Torch had indeed been passed, as Kennedy wished it to be known.

History also now records Kennedy’s assassination in 1963 as the point where that same empowered generation lost their innocence and their trust in Government. That encouragement and enthusiasm had the shroud pulled over it in Dallas, and in its place emerged bitterness and cynicism for which Vietnam and Watergate became the perfect outlets.

The release from prison of Nelson Mandela in 1990 was deserved reward for all those who campaigned not only for his freedom, but for the end of Apartheid. It illustrated – as the Civil Rights struggle had done 25 years previously – that small ideas become big movements. They gather momentum that carries all before it. Nothing is as powerful as an idea whose time has come.

Of course, this past week has seen the death of Baroness Thatcher. It was predictable that there would be strong feelings expressed on both sides of the debate. No one, when asked what they thought of Mrs Thatcher, ever replied “Meh…”

To be honest, I’ve avoided almost all of the media coverage. Not just because of my views of her, but because it was always going to be endlessly and depressingly repetitive, and if I wanted that I’d watch EastEnders. I’ve been vaguely following on Twitter the reaction to the coverage, and it’s been even more rabid than I expected.

Ever single-minded and to hell with the consequences, Thatcher had the gall to die over a Parliamentary recess. This left Cameron in something of a quandary. He recognised that after incurring the swivel-headed wrath of the Conservatives over the equal marriage legislation that he badly needed to mend some fences with the party and its members. If he waited until Parliament reconvened the following Monday to lead tributes to the former Prime Minister, he’d have been accused of not being sufficiently respectful. He had to overcome the scepticism of Speaker John Bercow who rightly concluded that it would be unprecedented to recall Parliament for such an event rather than a national emergency. The request was granted on the basis that tributes be discussed in the form of Parliamentary debate, which allowed some of the speeches from Labour members to be extremely critical of Thatcher and her legacy. This did not go down well with the Conservatives, especially Sir Tony Baldry who asked Speaker Bercow to intervene. Bercow, himself a Tory, showed remarkable neutrality to insist that everything was in order and members be free to criticise as well as praise.

Ultimately, something occurred to me which explained the fanatical reactions, and even the reactions to the reactions. Politics is just religion with statistics. Statistics instead of parables and ancient tomes. It is nothing more than an ongoing argument about what will happen, what is happening, and what has happened – and all done with liberal use of carefully selected statistics, expertly nuanced in order to make one’s case more persuasive. Each political persuasion would have you believe that their version is the only real Truth, and that they – and only they – are the chosen ones. This religious zeal inevitably causes historical revisionism. On Radio 4’s PM programme, Thatcher biographer Charles Moore objected bitterly that the BBC was repeatedly referring to her as “divisive”. Someone who has – by definition – studied her life and career in depth would have known that the Party was split into “Wets” and “Thatcherites” long before there was a leadership election in 1990 and she was dramatically flung out of Downing Street by her own party. If that’s not divisive then I don’t know what is.

Could it be that as society becomes more secular, it gets more political?

The analogy seems to work remarkably well. Outgoing Governments are metaphorically nailed to the Cross, and held up as not only the example but the cause of all that is wrong in the country today. Each party has its diehards – the real zealots, and at any opportunity will try to convert any poor soul unfortunate enough to have been indoctrinated with the wrong version of the Truth. Every few years, a person comes along who has sufficient personality and vision (although usually more of the former and rather less of the latter) to cause otherwise normal thinking voters to abandon their cause and cross to the Dark Side. Thatcher was one of these, and so was Tony Blair. Cameron isn’t, which is why after thirteen years of Labour and the country arguably in a poor condition, he still couldn’t win a majority. For what it's worth, I put Ed Miliband in the same category as Cameron in this regard.

 

This is clearly a trick missed by the ancients. Just think how lethal Jesus would have been armed with PowerPoint slides illustrating the number of litres of water turned into wine. The lack of room at the Inn would have been a perfect platform to criticise the social housing provision in Jerusalem. Maybe the Disciples were actually the first Think-tank? Perhaps the Last Supper would have been roundly criticised as a bunch of ne'er do well benefit cheats living it up at the expense of society. Say it quietly, but the Bible might even have been the first product of what we now know of as Spin Doctors.

 

Robes and dog collars have been replaced in today's society by an ill-fitting suit bought on expenses.

Who knows who will be the next Messiah of British Politics?