Alexei Navalny Patriot

As the world outside Russia continues to be shocked  by the unswerving support given by Patriarch Kiril to President  Putin, it is encouraging  to know that Putin’s main opponent,  the courageous Alexei Navalny, was strengthened  by his membership of the Orthodox Church which he entered as an adult having previously been an atheist.

Navalny grew up under communism in an army family and was appalled by the lies and more lies under which the country had to live. When Putin came to power it was not just the lies that enraged him but the massive corruption of both Putin himself and his cronies. After training as a lawyer he founded an anti-corruption organisation which exposed their vast wealth and also stood for election as Mayor of Moscow.  Despite everything the regime did to hinder him he managed 22.7% of the vote. He was however barred from standing in the 2018 Presidential election.

Navalny really hit the world headlines however when he was poisoned with the nerve agent Novichok in August 2020. Flown to Germany for treatment he miraculously emerged from a long coma and resumed his activities. He returned to Russia knowing it would mean endless arrests, imprisonments and his likely death, which turned out to be the case. He was sent to ever harsher prisons and finally to one in the artic circle where he died.  Angela Merkel had visited Navalny when he received treatment in Germany. She wrote ‘Navalny returned to Russia, only to be arrested at the airport. What followed was a three year martyrdom. On Feb16 , 2024 Alexei Navalny died  in a Russian prison camp, a victim of  the repressive  state power of his home country.’[1]

Navalny kept a prison dairy for these last years and they reveal  the portrait  of an extraordinary spirit.[2] He refused to be broken by the system, and continually argued back to his guards, but all the time with an amazing sense of humour and confidence. Despite all the attempts to isolate and humiliate him he retained a sense of elan, confident that the truth would eventually win through.

There are many nice touches of humour, as for example when he echoes Kant in saying there are two things in life that matter, the starry skies above and  the moral imperative withing  but  then adds a third,  passing his hand over his bald head.

What was the secret of this spirit? Clearly he was born with a sense of chuzpah, for even at school he was the pupil who cheekily answered back. He was also wonderfully supported by his lovely wife Yulia, who shared his ideas and was willing to suffer with and as a result of his activities. He also found meditation a great help in calming his impulsive temper. But what emerges from the diary is how much his discovery of the Christian faith sustained him through his ordeals. This began with the birth of the couple’s first  child Dasha in 2001.As he wrote:

Having a child changed my life in an unexpected way…Like anyone who grew up in the Soviet Union, I had never believed in God, but looking now at Dasha and how she was developing, I could not reconcile myself to the thought that this was only a matter of biology….From a dyed-in-the-wool atheist , I gradually became a religious person. (p.181)

Even during his time in prison Navalny fasted in Lent and had to face the absurdity that the bread he himself was not eating could not be given to another prisoner and had to be thrown away. During this time he learn the beatitudes by heart not only in Russian but in English French and Latin as well. One of the beatitudes in particular was crucially important to him, ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be fulfilled’. In his final appeal to the judge in one case he makes this central. Despite his position as a prisoner he tells the judge that  he finds some satisfaction and fulfilment in trying to make that beatitude his own, and he argues that  deep down this is what the Russian people want. In the end righteousness will prevail over the deeply unrighteous Russian state. Truth will out and will win through. This faith undergirded his natural courage and gave him the nice mixture of self depreciation and irony that is so characteristic of his personality. The beatitude was  true because he did indeed find himself genuinely fulfilled in what he was doing .(p326-8) In an entry for  March 22^nd 2022, but which forms an epilogue to the diary,  he says he lies on his bunk looking up and asking himself if he is a Chrisian in his heart of hearts. He suggests with some ambiguity that some of what passes for religion may not be necessary  but then adds:

My job is to seek the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and leave it to Jesus and the rest of his family  to deal with everything else…..As they say in prison here: they will take my punches for me. (p.479)

[1] Angela Merkel, Freedom, Macmillan, 2024, p.675

[2] Alexei Navalny Patriot, The Bodley Head, 2024

Why democracy matters

A recent poll in the UK revealed that 1 in 5  people in the age group 18-45 would prefer a strong unelected leader to democracy. This is worrying and shows up a serious failure in our education system. It also seems to be part of a world wide move away from democracy to dictatorship, autocracy and various forms of managed democracy. Even a country like India, once a byword for democracy, now has serious flaws in the way minorities find it hard to obtain justice and academics are put under pressure not to criticise Narendra Modi’s Hindu nationalist government.

Goodness knows, democracy has its flaws and there is a temptation to think that a strong leader would make things work better; ‘make the trains run on time’ in the notorious phrase applied to Mussolini. Then there is always pressure on democracy from powerful economic forces.  Marx said that democracy meant no more than ‘the opportunity of deciding once in three or six years which member of the ruling class was to misrepresent the people’. Today we might want to qualify this and talk not about a ruling class but a global economic elite who are able to pressurise governments.

In the course of history the Christian church has justified almost every form of government from the divine right of kings to the latest  military junta, so it is proper to be sceptical and ask why democracy has any special claim on the Christian conscience. After all it was not until Pope Leo XIII in the late 19^th century that the Papacy accepted that democracy might align itself with Christian values.

It was Reinhold Niebuhr in The Children of Light and the Children of Darkness who gave the classic Christian defence of democracy. There he wrote ‘Man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible; but man’s inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary’.  Our capacity for justice enables us at least some of the time to think of the common good not just our own interests and to work for the good of all not just for ourselves. But as Niebuhr said our inclination to injustice should make us suspicious of all centres of power and keep us vigilant that they do not become tyrannies. Luther knew well that we have this inclination to injustice, indeed he thought of human beings as like wild animals who needed the strong cage of the state to stop us tearing one another in pieces. What he ignored was the fact that the state itself is the biggest beast of all and needs its own strong cage. It is from this inclination to injustice that there arises the classic separation of powers in democracy: the judiciary, the executive and the legislature. The executive, that is, the government of the day, is held in check by an independent judiciary and an elected assembly.

Until recently in this country we failed the test of a separation  of powers because the Law Lords sat in the House of Lords and the Lord Chancellor was not only head of the judiciary responsible for appointing judges, but a member of both the legislature and the cabinet. That all changed in 2005 with the Constitution Reform Act and in  2009 when the Supreme Court came into existence. The key point is the real independence of the judiciary. In Russia, as was seen in the case of Alexi Navalny and countless others, the judicial system operates according to what Putin wants, in Navalny’s case his imprisonment and death. This means that any attack on the Judiciary such as the Mail headline ‘Enemies of the people’ in 2016  undermines a fundamental pillar of democracy.

No less important is freedom of the media. Sadly what we see in so many countries is the media being controlled either directly or though allies by the government. Social media has made a big difference in keeping the possibility of truth alive but here again it can be controlled or subject to vast attempts at misinformation.

No doubt many of  those 1 in 5 who would rather have a strong unelected leader take that view because they have not actually lived under a repressive regime. But more crucially they have not had the requisite teaching at school. Schools are meant to teach citizenship education but a House of Lords Committee found that whilst a few schools do this well most were failing badly. They either subsumed it under Spiritual, Moral, Social and Cultural values or did not teach it at all. This is not good enough. Our society is founded upon certain fundamental political values and pupils should know what they are and why they matter so much. This is closely linked to the whole question of Fundamental British Values. A flawed version of these were brought in as a response to terror threats and it is mandatory for schools to teach them. My private members bill, which was passed in the Lords but still has to be taken up in the Commons, has a much more balanced and holistic view. This states that our values are democracy, the rule of law, freedom, individual worth, and respect for the environment. “Freedom” includes freedom of thought, conscience and religion, freedom of expression, and freedom of assembly and association.  “Individual worth” means respect for the equal worth and dignity of every person. “Respect for the environment” is defined as taking into account the systemic effect of human actions on the health and sustainability of the environment both within the United Kingdom and the planet as a whole, for present and future generations.

Democracy round the world is under threat. It matters desperately that citizens of our country understand the fundamental political values on which our society is based and why they are so crucial. Democracy is a fragile achievement, the result of centuries  of struggle and conflict. It is far from perfect and our present form of democracy is  not the last word on the subject. As has been well said, it is the worst system in the world except for all the others. But flawed as it is, we need to guard and protect it. It needs to be taught in our schools.

Richard Harries is the author of Faith in Politics? Rediscovering the roots of our political values, DLT

A book, a letter and a photo

In early 1958 I was serving as a soldier in Germany and thinking hard about the Christian faith. One of the books I read was Aldous Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy. This suggested that the great faiths had in common the idea of losing yourself to find yourself, of giving yourself away. And it struck me that if this is at the heart of reality what could be a more sublime example than the incarnation, when God gives himself to humanity. So it was that through a non-Christian book the central claim of Christianity was reinforced for me.

Also in the regiment was Lance Corporal John Haliburton with his baggy battle dress and waddle walk. But there was little in the regiment than went on without him. He ran the orderly room and being fluent in German was the regimental interpreter.  He organised the chapel, the jazz band, played the organ and ran a bible study group. In between he sneaked into the officer’s mess and in response to my sherry talked theology to me. God rest him. Many books have influenced me, but The Perennial Philosophy affected me in a surprising, unpredictable way and made me see that the incarnation is congruous with our deepest spiritual insights.

In 1972 I was the first and last Warden of Wells in the newly merged Salisbury and Wells Theological College. One day a letter arrived from Robert Stopford, the Bishop of London, asking me if I would be interested in being Vicar of All Saints, the old parish church of Fulham. Three years earlier I had been looking for, and the Bishop had remembered, that this was the kind of parish in which  I wanted to serve.  It was  the only time in my life when  I knew just  what I wanted. I did not want to worship what E. M. Forster termed the great suburban Jehovah and I did not want an eclectic inner city congregation. I wanted a socially mixed congregation in London but not too far out. Nothing was available. Several unsuitable jobs failed to materialise, and then I saw the Wells job advertised and although I had not originally thought I wanted to be on the staff of a theological college, it has turned out to be hugely important to me. The discipline of lecturing on doctrine and ethics laid a foundation for much of what I have done. Not finding what I wanted earlier, and as a result doing something which later  turned out to be so fundamental for my ministry, seems to me now a providential ordering.

When I retired as Bishop of Oxford in 2006 people often used to say to me ‘Do you miss Oxford?’ but I could not think of anything I missed. I began to wonder if I was normal not missing anything. Then some years later I realise I did indeed miss something-being part of the senior staff team with its shared sense of purpose and much humour. We  met every month but once a year we went away for a weekend together at a retreat house where we would worship, plan strategically and share convivial meals. On the Saturday afternoon we went for a long walk in the beautiful Oxfordshire countryside. What I came to miss was never again being part of a small team which combined seriousness and laughter, mutual support and respect for difference. I think for many people it is in a small group that they first discover the reality of Christian community.  I discovered this at Wells Theological College, where we all had to be part of a house group. In Fulham, I encouraged the development of house groups and where once a year we took 30 or so people away for a weekend together. That weekend did more for church life that a whole year of church going. Another important group for me was my episcopal cell which met residentially twice a year. It is through such opportunities for sharing at some depth that we discover what it is to be the church, part of mystical body of all Christ’s faithful people. This photo of our senior staff team on one of our walks is a reminder and symbol of this.  

Richard Harries. His autobiography is The Shaping of a Soul: a life taken by surprise, Christian Alternative Books

There is a play in which an elderly man and his son are facing up to a visit to their local clinic. It is set about 30 years in the future when medicine has advanced to the point where the doctor can tell him not only that he has an incurable condition but that he has exactly  3 years  3 months and 3 days  to live. After seeing the doctor the man goes to see a counsellor who discusses with him at what point he will take the pill which will kill him. She stresses it is very much his decision but the unstated assumption is that at some point he will ask for this. However, the man and his son decide to buck the system. A few years before this the man’s wife had asked for a  lethal dose which had shortened her life, a decision  they had regretted  ever since. So they decide to see out the illness to the end, not hasten the death. [1]

Proponents of assisted dying will complain that this is too far fetched, and that we would never change into a society in which assisted dying became the default position. But they are wrong for the very   reason that drives them to support the present bill: compassion. It is compassion which quite rightly wants to stop the suffering of those for whom it has become unbearable. But why should it be limited to those with just a few months to live? A man with Parkinson’s has already complained that the proposed bill does not go far enough for him. A few years ago a young man  paralysed from the waist down as a result of a rugby accident went to Switzerland with Dignitas to end his life. Who could not feel for him? Rugby had been his passion. What now had he to live for? His prospect, of a lifetime in that condition, would seem to be even more appalling than someone with having to live with cancer for six months. If the present bill was passed there would immediately be pressure to expand it in the direction of the laws in Canada, Belgium and the Netherlands. As Hannah Barnes pointed out recently, in the Netherlands there were 138 assisted deaths last year of people with a mental illness, the majority of them single women under 60 suffering from depression and one was under 20.

Supporters of the present bill focus on a number of genuinely hard cases, urging compassion for those dying of unbearable suffering. But the issue is not just about individual cases. If I was in a jungle and my companion was dying in agony with no means of alleviating their pain and he begged me to shoot him it might indeed be the right thing to do. But we are not dealing with an isolated incident with no repercussions for society as a whole. We are concerned with a change in the law and its effect on society as a whole not just in the immediate future but in the longer term.

It is predicted that there will be 1.4 million people living with dementia in 2040, at a cost of £90 billion. With the fall in the birthrate the cost of this and the care involved on a smaller working population will be huge. There could be great pressures for this burden to be eased by letting people faced with dementia opt for assisted dying. And if our only value is personal autonomy, why not? A distinguished academic for whom the life of the mind has been his raison d’être is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For him this is worse than death. He asks for assistance in dying. Compassion and a stress on personal autonomy could combine to accede to his request.

So the question is whether we want to go down that road? Some will say they do, and will press for similar legislation to that in Canada and the Netherlands. Others, like myself, will say no. We do not want a society like that with the real possibility of a  fundamental shift in its attitude to the sick and suffering. What we must  not do is delude ourselves into thinking that the present bill, if passed, will be the end of it. It will inevitably lead on to a campaign to widen it out, and the same compassion which drives the present bill will drive a new one into existence. Compassion is an emotion. It leads one to feel with the other person. But that does not tell us what is right. As a rational ethical principle compassion  simply places ‘the good’ in the front of the mind, the good of the person suffering. But it does not answer that question and it does not answer the question of how one might weigh up the good of one individual, in terms of shortening their suffering, with the loss of a major good for society as whole, by undermining a sense of  the essential worth and dignity of every human being whatever state they are in.

Proponents of assisted dying tend to regard it as just one more step in the great progressive march. But they are simplistic in their relentless focus on the suffering of a few high profile cases without facing the real issue which is about changing the law in a world where an originally tight law could move rapidly to one with a much wider remit. And they are philosophically naïve in refusing to see that a stress on compassion itself does not give the answer, but only opens up the question to a serious weighing of goods and ills.

[1] Declaration of interest: I recently wrote the play, which is called ‘The Clinic’