It has turned out, that unbeknown to themselves, the occupiers outside
St Paul's are camped on a hornet's nest. This nest is the secret point where
the ancient arrangements of the English polity interlock with contemporary
global finance.
The interlocking has two aspects. First, as initially Maurice
Glasman and now George Monbiot have pointed out, certain freewheeling banking
practices which helped to cause our current global recession were only made
possible by a routing of even American monetary activity through the City of
London. This is because it is uniquely independent of the normal scope of
national law, while the power of corporate financial bodies over its
local self-government was deliberately increased under Tony Blair. Yet far from
this representing a survival of medieval corruption into the modern era, as
Monbiot implies, it is rather, as Glasman far more accurately puts it, the
result of a perversion of Medieval participatory and Guild arrangements,
originally designed to subordinate commercial to social purposes, in the
modern era.
And far from this perversion being some sort of anomaly, it rather
indicates, in the sharpest possible way, just how the supposedly 'free market'
depends upon aberrant legal privileges that license and underwrite a
kind of international buccaneering which we have absurdly come to see as
normative. Something as apparently abstract and natural as 'the laws of the
market' turn out to be genealogically traceable to geographical and customary
peculiarities. Conversely, this realisation allows us to see how we can begin
to construct a fairer international market, always linking economic to social
value, if we reform the City of London and more generally erect a different
legal framework within which economic transactions can operate.
For this reason, Maurice Glasman and Blue Labour have been endeavouring
to persuade the occupiers to make the status of the City the specific
object of their protest. The argument here is that if we are really true
to medieval intentions, we would abolish the distinction between the City of
London and London as Metropolis and seek to ensure that all Londoners had
a voice in the managing of the whole of London's wealth, while
equally trying to ensure (through perhaps a renewed guild structure and a
bicameral ruling institution, including a vocational chamber) that
all businesses and other free associations have a rightful say in the wider
city's governance.
Of course this cannot be the only issue that the occupiers, part of
a global movement of protest should be concerned with. But local protests, to
be effective, need to have a specific local object, and in this case they
are presented with one that could, indeed, make an immense global difference.
It would seem that the protesters are so far refusing to move in this more
concentrated direction solely because of the unwarranted influence of a few
communist and anarchist extremists. The latter are not the real heart of
the occupation movement which is remarkably a spontaneous populist expression,
not clearly linked to any established political tendencies. Indeed its implicit
rejection of the alliance of financial and bureaucratic oligarchies aligns it
naturally with the new 'Postliberal' politics which ResPublica exists
to support.
Yet it is only if they adopt some such more specific goal that the
protestors will be equal to the symbolic resonance of the hornet's nest where
they find themselves encamped. And curiously, it is the same lamentable failure
to be alert to symbolic resonance which has characterised the official
Anglican response so far - though in this respect it limps behind the vast
majority of Anglican clergy and laity. This failure is all the more remarkable
given that religions are supposed to be in the business of the symbolic, the
ritual and the imagistic. Such things were scarcely invented yesterday by
the media, and should be meat and drink to a Cathedral staff.
How can one explain this blindness? The minor aspect to any such
explanation must concern the remarkable independence of Anglican Deans from
episcopal oversight. In some ways this is commendable, and has, in
part, allowed many cathedrals recently to renew High Church populist,
festive and educational practices which have resulted in an increase in
their congregations against current trends. The failing cathedrals are the ones
stuck in an out-dated liberalism or anti-ritualistic evangelicalism. And
indeed, one can assume that the more successful cathedrals, like St Albans, led
by the highly creative (and otherwise famous) Jeffrey John, would have responded
much more successfully to the unprecedented events now unfolding on the steps
of St Paul's.
The latter itself, has participated positively in this new trend, yet is
still infected with a countervailing inherited sclerosis which has crippled it
in the present instance. This sclerosis has in part to do with the negative
aspect of cathedral independence - an inability always to think outside the
narrow remit of cathedral duty: the daily round of evensong and the shepherding
of tourists.
It is at this point that one can suggest that, especially in the a
joined-up global world, the Anglican Church actually requires rather more hierarchical
oversight and willingness of bishops to intervene - even if this risks rocking
the boat of notorious Anglican diversity. This is required in order to maintain
a genuine Catholic openness to all parishioners up and down the country in
terms of liturgy, pastoral care and social involvement, never mind public
response to sensitive political issues. Thus is the present
instance, perhaps the bishops of London and Canterbury think that it is
their prime duty to sustain inner-church governmental protocols. But if that is
the case, then they are making the most massive mistake, whose fallout could be
considerable. The current event is a unique exception and it
requires an entirely exceptional response from the highest quarters.
But the sclerosis and the all-too-sad fumbling has also a deeper
long-term cause, which is the second point where the English polity interlocks
with global monetary iniquity. St Paul's as the Cathedral of the established
Church in the London diocese stands ambivalent guard over the frontier between
'London' in the narrower and the wider sense. The decadence into which medieval
civic arrangements have fallen in modern times has in part to be laid at
the door of the Church itself, because too often (though there are many crucial
exceptions) Anglicanism has abandoned a genuinely Christian thinking about
economic and social arrangements. This thinking was the heart of the original
City of London and without it we are left - and with an exponential
increase in recent times - only with fancy-dress concealing an empty
pursuit of greed.
And while very many London clerics have over the years made an
honourable social witness, the fact is that the higher echelons of the London
diocese have tended to be complicit with just this flummery and too much in
love with a power that they can only touch through its trappings. Indeed at
this point it is sham ritual that has frequently blinded their eyes to
genuine symbolic resonance.
Now this inherited blindness is exposed for the world to see - a most
spectacular blindness, if one may venture a paradox.
But there is one who certainly will not, in his heart share this
blindness, and who must now exhibit his heart to the world in order to
turn disaster into opportunity. The new decision by the Bishop
of London and the cathedral canons after all not to side with the City in
seeking legal action against the occupiers is to be greatly welcomed. However,
it is the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, so far uncontaminated by
muddle and fluster over this issue, who can alone still seize
a golden opportunity to put his church centre-stage in the debate we
now need about the long-term implications of the English and London polity and
the English established Church in the current toils of extreme capitalism.