This has been and will continue to be a hot year for elections. Bangladesh. Indonesia. Russia. India. Britain. United States. That accounts for probably 80 per cent of the voting population of the world. (The Chinese have never held elections since the birth of Adam, so they can be excluded without qualms from this world.) So far, amidst the plentiful noise and occasional wit, the quotation of the season comes from British Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, who has just said that he will announce an election date the moment people begin to “feel things are improving”.
So, British elections in 2028 then. To balance out, a more memorable quotation from a British politician, that marvellously committed leftist-intellectual Labour leader Michael Foot. A good speech, he said, exposes the opposition’s weakness; a great one destroys its strengths.
Decadence in Britain
About three decades ago, when AngloAmerican civilisation was still feeling uppity, Hollywood made films about the decadence of the old Roman Empire, if only to show sleaze on the screen in the name of censure. It might be time for Rome to make films about decadence in Britain. London’s Financial Times published a photograph recently of a party hosted by a cryptocurrency company called Copper at a five-star hotel where guests with lanyards picked up sushi from the bodies of live models in see-through suits. The invitation had promised a feast for all five senses. If the guests had any sixth sense, they would have sensed that someone with a camera would pass on the delectable photographs to a newspaper.
The Chairman of Copper? Baron Hammond of Runnymede, a former Chancellor of the British Exchequer. Conservative, naturally. Well paid, obviously. It is unsurprising that the British electorate is thoroughly fed up with the Conservatives, with opinion polls giving current Prime Minister Rishi Sunak 1 per cent chance of victory. The principal vote-loser is Sunak, whose claims to competence are looking very frayed, and whose behaviour is getting on voter nerves. A Tory member in a focus group put the dilemma in a very British nutshell, as reported in the Times of March 27: “It feels like we’ve got alcoholic parents.
Everything’s crazy and then the next morning it’s suddenly ‘Sorry’ and ‘Let’s go and feed the ducks’. It’s not secure enough. You can’t help but love your alcoholic parents but you might want to go and live with your auntie for a bit.” The name of this aunt is Labour.
God has patience
It must have been guilt. Normally one opens a new book on purchase if only to check one’s decision to buy it. But getting Catherine Nixey’s Heresy: Jesus Christ and the Other Sons of God during Easter week seemed particularly heretical, even if the Kindle price was irresistible. The price of heresy always has been and always will be irresistible.
I left the book unopened and continued reading Spectator. The magazine has published a story about Tom Holland, a historian of Christianity and faith who has revelled in the contemporary ‘New Atheism’ popularised by Richard Dawkins and other irreverent authors of this cult. In December 2021, at the peak of Covid, Holland was diagnosed with cancer which demanded immediate surgery.
With hospitals in disarray, Holland turned, inexplicably by his rationale, to desperate prayer, during a midnight mass. Within a few weeks, the diagnosis was reversed. His mind still refuses to accept the notion of answered prayers, but his heart has clearly moved towards God. He is confused, which means that the human arrogance inherent in atheism is over. “God must have a sense of humour,” Holland said. True. God also has patience.
