Category: Class

  • Far-right Threat: Why the Bishops’ Take on “National Unity” is not enough – Part 2

    by Savitri (Savi) Hensman. A British Sri Lankan lesbian and Church of England member, she has been a writer and activist for justice and inclusion in churches and society, at times holding leadership roles in key organisations. She has also worked in community development and involvement in research, public policy and services. These two pieces will occasionally touch on some of the grim realities of inequity and violence.

    A disunited nation?

    In the second part of this reflection on the Church and the nation, I will share some ideas on how the Church of England, locally and nationally, might respond to the far-right surge. I will suggest a few principles to guide this response, then practical actions, but start with what I mean by the term ‘far right’.

    Suggested principles

    Firstly, the biblical understanding of what it means to love everyone, ‘unity’ and ‘reconciliation’ in Christ is not about papering over cracks. It can include challenging injustice and harm in institutions and systems, as well as at personal level, and asking awkward questions about differences in status, wealth and power. This can be tricky for churches, especially if they are as closely tied to the state as the CofE, yet is important in times like the present.

    The Bishops’ Working Group paper presented to Synod last month makes the important point that it is dangerous to conflate “our understandings of nation, church and kingdom. The kingdom of God is our ultimate horizon, and both the church and the nation stand under its judgement and promise.”

    Yet too often CofE culture and structures, encourage church members to accept inequality and defer to those in authority, without always counting the human cost.   

    But Christ still invites followers to embrace the promises in the Magnificat and the sermon on the plain; to join in bringing good news to the poor and freedom to the oppressed; reject false unity; and take up the cross, ready to pay the price of love which may involve painful change, and facing the wrath of the powerful, in the hope of resurrection (Luke 1.50-53, 6.20-26, 4.16-19, 12.49-53, 14.25-27).

    Secondly, I agree with the Working Group in its call for a healthy form of patriotism, based on an honest reckoning of what is good and evil in national history, without drawing hard lines around who belongs. Such a form of patriotism “would ask not only what the nation can achieve for those within its borders, but what responsibilities it bears toward the wider world”. This matters, especially since the absence of this among people whose self-esteem is often ground down in everyday life is all too easy for the far right to manipulate. And struggles for freedom, equality and democracy, past and present, can strengthen bonds among people from diverse backgrounds.

    Thirdly, the Church should avoid lending credibility to the notion that tension is almost inevitable between two distinct groups of people: on the one hand those who suffer stark socioeconomic disadvantage, and so are drawn towards trying to ‘defend’ England against ‘outsiders’, and on the other hand people they see as ‘foreign’.  

    There are multiple flaws in the paper’s claim that “A church that is genuinely promoting unity will be equally committed to racial justice work as well as ministry with people of working-class backgrounds. This means equally including those from Global Majority Heritage backgrounds and recent migrants, and those who would be drawn towards exclusionary politics – not in a way that endorses those politics, but by creating the relationships which allow for those attitudes to be open to examination and theological formation.” There were echoes of this in what was said at Synod too.

    Sensitive listening in safe spaces to white people drawn to the far right, yet who may feel awkward about this, is indeed valuable. But urging churches to be equally inclusive of both those who facing racial injustice and those drawn to exclusionary politics fails to recognise the following points:

    1. Many working-class people and others on low incomes are not white. Members of some minority ethnic communities are about one-and-a half to four times as likely as white British people to be working-class and/or on a very low income. So especially in ethnically diverse areas, numerous people face socioeconomic disadvantage intertwined with, rather than simply instead of, racism [1].
    2. Many white working-class people support politicians seen as opposing inequality of all kinds, including racism. This is particularly marked in younger generations and women [2]. Disadvantaged white people have often grown up amidst, or organised alongside, diverse friends, relatives or role models.
    3. Many people drawn to the far right are not working-class or economically deprived: sometimes, the opposite. This is particularly marked at leadership level. The English Defence League, though led by someone who did have a deprived childhood (Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, known as Tommy Robinson), was bankrolled by a “property tycoon and a City-based financier.” He is now backed by some of the world’s richest and most powerful men: Elon Musk, Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin. Reform UK and Restore Britain are headed by rich privately-educated former commodities traders, and funded by wealthy business people. Both favour slashing social security payments to many disabled people and funding tax cuts for the rich. For some in the middle, resentment of their neighbours on the margins masks their fear of ending up there too.
    4. Some of the institutions and systemic issues driving harsh deprivation and racist extremism overlap. The key role of powerful decision-makers, their media or business backers and unjust systems in inflicting harm directly (and legitimising everyday contempt or hatred) should be recognised. For example, in a decade-and-a-half, austerity has killed hundreds of thousands of people in Britain [3], in what has been described as “social murder,” while many others on low incomes have had their health wrecked. Public policy shifts have created an increasingly hostile environment for people of colour, as politicians target not only refugees and recent migrants but also those of us long settled or born here, even if British citizens [4]. Meanwhile attention is diverted from finding ways forward which would benefit the many, not just the few.

    Ideas for action

    I believe the types of action encouraged in the paper, and at Synod, have their place. But what is effective, and advisable, for ministers and church volunteers practising inclusivity will vary, depending on identity and situation. And friendliness and one-to-one dialogue, and/or encouraging involvement in Citizens UK or other local initiatives, while valuable are not enough on their own to turn back the far-right tide.

    While everyone in a congregation can be encouraged to be welcoming, outreach and in-depth pastoral care may need particular skills. Some church members may receive a less positive response than others from far-right sympathisers and activists. If church members provide informal chaplaincy at rallies, some may be targets of verbal abuse or physical assault, including on the way home. People can change, including violent extreme-right activists [5], but many have complex problems and require appropriate support [6].

    I am not suggesting here that people of global majority heritage, or any other group facing disadvantage or discrimination, should react strongly to each minor slight or insensitive act: practically everyone gets things wrong sometimes. Nor do I claim that a single viewpoint might represent the whole truth or even the opinion of a whole community on any topic. Nor should we reject what is freely given as gift by those able and willing to listen attentively to, and care for, people who treat them as unequal and in some cases harm their loved ones. But it is important for this not to be turned into a kind of informal tax on all, or an expectation that this is the only proper form of ‘Christian’ living. There are other ways of engaging directly with far-right views and actions, as well as offering people who might find these tempting better channels for their frustration and loss, including nationally-coordinated activities.

    There is much to learn from Anglicans elsewhere, ecumenical partners – and by reflecting on what CofE laypersons and frontline clergy active in seeking greater inclusion and equity in society (especially from marginalised groups) think that they have learned by this work. This includes activities at least partly motivated by faith but not directed by churches and of which church leaders may sometimes be unaware. Can Christians who, despite disagreement on certain matters, are committed to a more just and compassionate society get better at sharing experiences, information and views? And can CofE members talk more about the tricky issue of what might happen if the gap widens between what the UK authorities ask of citizens and what some of us might regard as our duty as followers of Christ?

    Many of us will remember times when people of global majority heritage across the world, and/or who are LGBTQIA+, have paid a high price when UK and other state power was used in destructive ways. This is a live issue today, as state measures can clash with other UK laws, and contravene wider human rights and international humanitarian law. Christians, alongside other people of goodwill, are making varied choices.

    Maybe there are some situations in which unity can only be achieved through challenge and conflict. Whether through formal church channels or Christians coming together in other ways, resources on theology and practical issues can perhaps be circulated more widely, spaces and networks for mutual support and shared learning developed, in response to the rise of the far right.

    The CofE’s tendency to create a false idol of ‘unity’ may end up not only jeopardising the wellbeing of those worst hit by injustice but also causing deadly division. But there are genuine seeds of hope, and love across difference, which deserve to be watered and nurtured through the storms to come. Beyond the Cross is the Resurrection.

    References

    1 Class categories in official statistics continue to evolve and probably still do not adequately reflect changes in technology and organisation of work, especially affecting those in non-manual jobs which are tightly employer-controlled, profit-creating and not well-paid, sometimes regarded as “white-collar working class.” In 2021 Census figures for England and Wales, white British people were only about half as likely as those with Bangladeshi or Pakistani ethnicity to be in the lowest social grades (DE), and twice as likely to be in the top (AB). People of African and Caribbean descent were about one- and-a-half times as likely to be in DE. (I have assumed that numbers of white people of Northern Irish descent, even if patterns differ slightly, would be comparatively low so make little difference to the average.) Differences are even more stark in terms of income. Later figures for income after housing costs indicated that people of Bangladeshi ethnicity were about three times as likely as white British people to live in the bottom 20% of households, those of Pakistani or Black ethnicity twice as likely. In terms of deep material poverty among children, rates were about four times as high for those of Bangladeshi as of White ethnicity, about twice as high for those of Black or Pakistani ethnicity.

    2 Both Reform UK and the Green Party perform better among people who are financially insecure. British people who own their homes outright are four times more likely to vote Reform than Green; but tenants of private landlords and people living with family and friends (including hidden homeless “sofa-surfers”) are considerably more likely to vote Green than Reform. More in Common and YouGov, from which these figures are drawn, explore the divisions further, as does the National Centre for Social Research, e.g. when examining who supports Reform and attitudes in Scotland to discrimination, which almost certainly overlap with those in England. Interpreting statistics is more complicated because older home-owners may have bought property when far cheaper and the likelihood of young people from disadvantaged backgrounds going to university has risen steeply since the 1960s; and the percentage of people born in Britain who are minority ethnic has also risen.

    3 Public health specialists have various estimates, depending in part on the years and geographical area covered, e.g. 230,000 or so in England from 2010-18. Some researchers have examined the mechanisms in different age groups etc.

    4 E.g. new rules leave even asylum-seekers who have reached England and been recognised as having fled danger, including traumatised survivors of anti-Christian or anti-LGBTQIA+ persecution, permanently at risk of being sent back and hence unable to live freely. And up to 9 million people are vulnerable to being stripped of British citizenship, hence losing vital rights and maybe facing forcible deportation, with people of colour at high risk. In effect this takes the Windrush scandal, in which hundreds of people were wrongly deported, despite contributing to UK society for decades after arriving from the Caribbean and elsewhere long ago, not as a cautionary tale but a blueprint. This concerns me far more than street-level racist violence, which is less systematic and with greater chance of rescue. Such policies in turn affect numerous white British people, including those needing NHS or social care but without staff to provide this, or who lose jobs or opportunities to study as university departments reliant on overseas students shrink or close.

    5 E.g. Matthew Collins and the late Ray Hill, both of whom became outstanding anti-fascists.

    6 For instance most people arrested in the Southampton race riots this summer had also been reported to the police for domestic abuse.

  • Far-right Threat: Why the Bishops’ Take on “National Unity” is not enough – Part 1

    by Savitri (Savi) Hensman. A British Sri Lankan lesbian and Church of England member, she has been a writer and activist for justice and inclusion in churches and society, at times holding leadership roles in key organisations. She has also worked in community development and involvement in research, public policy and services. These two pieces will occasionally touch on some of the grim realities of inequity and violence.

    Far right influence in England has grown sharply over the past dozen years. While minorities are most obviously affected, it is also harmful to the majority – and could have devastating effects in the not-too-distant future. A presentation and discussion on ‘Promoting Unity in our Nation’ at the July 2026 meeting of the Church of England’s General Synod raised important issues and offered some valuable insights, yet fell short in other ways. Building on what is positive, while improving on what is not, would help in tackling a serious threat to wellbeing across the UK – and strengthen the church’s ability to further inclusion in general.

    General Synod met against a backdrop of a worsening situation across the UK for people of colour (or global majority heritage: people may describe themselves in different ways) and others facing discrimination, not only on the streets but also in the corridors of power. Many feel unjustly targeted for wider social problems, in ways that may actually make these worse.

    “Friends, I don’t think we should be in any doubt – our democracy is under threat today,” Bishop of Leicester, Martyn Snow, warned when opening the agenda item. He chairs a Church of England Bishops’ Working Group on this issue, which had earlier circulated a paper.

    This paper presented its view of what was happening and why, the theological framework and what contribution the CofE could make. It ended with the text of a 2025 talk to the College of Bishops by Luke Bretherton, Regius Professor of Moral & Pastoral Theology at the University of Oxford, who is part of an Academic Reference Group. Interestingly, none of the other members of the Group were quoted.

    The paper describes high levels of distrust in institutions, scapegoating of certain minorities and a rising wealth gap; those feeling financially insecure and disconnected from society often also feel like “a stranger in my own country” and have little trust in neighbours. More positively, there is evidence of a “substantial and largely silent majority who are eager for institutions and leaders willing to speak for an inclusive English identity that rejects prejudice. The Church of England, present in every community, is uniquely placed to help that majority find its voice.”

    Previous unifying forces in Britain, the paper explains, have largely weakened or disappeared. Historian Linda Colley is quoted as identifying these as “Protestant Christianity (particularly framed in opposition to Catholicism), external military threat and imperial enterprise;” which, though their loss is welcome in many ways, has supposedly left a gap in “people’s sense of national identity and England’s place in the world.” The sense of common purpose arising from two world wars and National Service has likewise gone.

    I do wonder whether this sense of unity across classes and regions at Britain-wide level, or even in England, was ever really so strong and constant; think of tensions and sometimes strikes, even riots, over land clearances, food affordability, toll gates, rural and urban working conditions, lack of democracy and so forth. I think it interesting that for instance, in the nineteenth century, a Chartist movement attracting huge support, as well as powerful opposition, would choose as one of its top leaders William Cuffay, who was African-Caribbean, the son of a former slave from St Kitts and disabled. And perhaps the impact of wars on social relationships and belief in institutions and values was more complex. Maybe a look at historical strands which brought some (rather than all) sets of people together across diverse backgrounds, including empathy and solidarity in the quest for greater freedom, equity and democracy, might have been fruitful too?

    But I would not contest the finding that industrial decline, the drop in organisations bringing people together locally and media fragmentation have reduced the sense of connectedness. This has left “fewer shared spaces in which difference can be encountered and understood; and fewer common reference points which can cut across other identities” so that divisions can feel more acute.

    Another shift in the UK and elsewhere, in this instance overlooked by the bishops, was a gradual loss of awareness of the value of frameworks of human rights and international humanitarian law, even as these continued to develop. Though imperfect, these offered some protection from stark economic as well as social, political and cultural inequity and violence; and were about obligations to defend one’s neighbour from cruelty and injustice as much as about rights for oneself. As memories faded of the horrors of Nazism and colonialism, including slavery, these were largely overlooked or came under attack in various quarters.[1]

    In his speech, Bishop Martyn described the need to bring communities and the nation together as an urgent challenge. “If a very large number of people think our country is ‘broken’ and ‘divided’, it doesn’t matter whether we agree with them or not – the very fact that so many people think it, means that we should not be surprised if many start looking for increasingly radical solutions to ‘fix’ our nation,” he said. “And if those solutions don’t immediately work, the temptation will be to look for even more radical solutions – and history gives us plenty of examples of where that can lead.” Talks and small-group discussions followed this speech.

    I am grateful for church leaders’ genuine commitment to countering extreme racism and have much respect for the lead bishops on racial justice, Arun Arora of Kirkstall and Rosemarie Mallett of Croydon. In my view they combine willingness to speak out on uncomfortable issues with generosity of spirit. I believe in the importance of loving everyone, whatever their words and deeds; that listening and conversation can be effective in changing hearts and minds to counter injustice; and pain on all sides must be recognised; and that we need to acknowledge what is positive as well as negative in England’s present and past. Local Christian communities’ contribution to offering diverse people a chance to mix and share is indeed vital. Al Barrett, a theologian and vicar in a deprived Birmingham neighbourhood, has published his thought-provoking reflections on this, describing local attempts to embody love of neighbour during an anti-immigrant “protest” and UKIP march. In my own research and lived experience, I too have become vividly aware of the potential consequences when specific groups are targeted and how this can escalate into society-wide catastrophe if not effectively countered.

    But there is a tendency in the CofE – despite sincerely professing that all humans are made in God’s image – to take inequity for granted. And superficial “unity,” or protecting institutional reputations and resources, should not be confused with reconciliation through, and unity in, Christ.

    Each issue is unique. Yet there are certain areas of shared concern with what went so wrong at a later Synod debate on the lives and ministries of LGBTQIA+ people in the Church of England, reflected on afterwards by Charlie Baczyk-Bell and Robert Thompson, and indeed a badly mishandled safeguarding case of which an independent review was published days after Synod ended. I know that keeping organisations running can be tricky and life in community may require concessions, yet too often the cost is shunted on to those already marginalised or exploited, while possible areas of common ground are downplayed if this might offend the rich and powerful. Ultimately this does not even benefit those who oppress others or enable such oppression to happen. Shifts towards greater equity and inclusion can indeed be unsettling to people who have grown used to imbalances in wealth or status, or who believe that unequal treatment based on difference may be justified in certain instances (e.g. supposedly based on objective factors or God’s will). Sensitivity is important, along with recognition that sometimes attempts to rectify past wrongs may be clumsy or overlook complexity. But treating those upset by a measure aimed at greater inclusion as particularly vulnerable can increase their sense of vulnerability and encourage them to make further demands, while also fending off their awareness of the harm which exclusion can cause. I believe that we all, at some point in this world or the next, to be saved, must come to terms with the humanity of those whose worth we failed to respect.

    More immediately, the far-right misuse of Christianity to cover prejudice and injustice with a veneer of sanctity, though not new, has been taking highly sophisticated forms in the UK and internationally. Some mainstream churches’ focus on increasing the number of worshippers or people identifying as Christian, as well as small-scale initiatives bringing people together locally which are valuable but are not nearly enough, have left the door open. My family and I have witnessed, and experienced, grave consequences when various religions have been twisted in such ways, and how this has ended up harming even majority groups who were meant to benefit. Taking action now may make a major difference in the near future.

    In the second part of my reflections, I will offer suggestions on what might assist the Church of England, locally and nationally, to resist the far-right surge and perhaps hold on to its integrity, if things go downhill.


    [1] Some of the effects of the erosion of human rights in the UK, which left some people at extra risk when the pandemic hit, are outlined in a chapter I contributed to a book published in 2021 on COVID and co-production, free online. Since then, the situation has got worse.

  • Evolution not Revolution: Creating Change in Working-Class Ministry in the Church of England

    by Fr Alex Frost, Vicar of St Matthews, Burnley, author of Our Daily Bread: From Argos to the Altar, and member of General Synod, 2021-2026

    In mid-July I was invited for lunch and Holy Communion with The Archbishop of Canterbury, Sarah Mullally, to offer thanks for my work on Working Class Vocations at the Church of England General Synod. I’ve written about this on Via Media before, and then in 2025 I was able to bring a Private Member’s Motion asking the Church to produce a strategy to encourage lay and ordained vocations from people with working class backgrounds. The invitation to Lambeth Palace for lunch was alongside my colleagues in the working party group which was formed to follow up on that Motion, which was led by the Bishop of Barking, Lynne Cullens, and included some incredible voices from General Synod. 

    It was a wonderful occasion, and I was most humbled to represent St Matthew’s church in Burnley at such a historic place as Lambeth Palace. Despite the grandeur of the palace, the visit was reflective of the working-class strategy I’d proposed, and so both Holy Communion and lunch were without too much fuss but with a beautiful simplicity. 

    In the debate on that Private Member’s Motion, Robb Sutherland, a working-class vicar from Leeds, memorably said “One day, I hope to be sharing an Iceland prawn ring with whoever is resident of Lambeth Palace.” And yes, lunch last month included a prawn ring (although not an Iceland one), homemade sandwiches and crisps with a Victoria sponge and a cup of coffee. Archbishop Sarah was very kind and generous to me and the rest of our working group and promised to advocate for more working-class vocations. We discussed some of the ongoing challenges, particularly around finance and the well-being of ordinands who enter training. And I made the point that, despite improvements in the way ordinands are funded, when it comes to working-class ordinands with children, then if one of the parents isn’t working finance is a huge concern.  

    Sarah wanted to know how she could advocate more for working-class people, and we suggested by ensuring all dioceses were switched on and actively exploring what they might do better to welcome more working-class candidates.  

    We also discussed working-class leaders at the highest level, and Bishop Lynne was clear in her view that there are simply not enough working-class Bishops in the Church of England, meaning that the hierarchy still has a whiff of private school membership and power that comes from a place of privilege. 

    Within all these discussions, I am acutely aware that the Archbishop of Canterbury doesn’t have a magic wand and can’t ‘hey presto’ change in the church with immediate effect. And I still believe the church is nowhere near where it needs to be supporting and championing working-class people, but if nothing else, our voice has been heard loud and clear. 

    Being part of this process and on General Synod for the last five years has made me realize that when an institution is under the control of so many different Bishops, traditions and theologies, changing anything radically is almost impossible. Bishop Lynne reminded me that the Church of England is about evolution not revolution, which is a stark reminder for those of us who seek change and who want the church to become more diverse and inclusive. 

    Talking of change and diversity, the working-party I have been part of is now dissolved, and a new group will be formed. It’s clear those who will now take this working-class project forward are seeking new voices, more diversity and for the BAME community to be represented more widely. This is of course good news, but this means that some excellent voices from the group will be lost, which is a shame. 

    As I step back from front line activism on a national scale regarding working-class vocations, I will do all I can in my own Parish to ensure working-class vocations are prioritized, upheld and encouraged. 

    I remain convinced that working-class Christians can breathe new life into a struggling institution that is held back by elitism, power and control at the highest level. For this to happen, more voices need to be heard, more working-class priests need to be present, and more Bishops need to understand that God-given gifts include people who paint walls and not just people who paint pictures, along with people who cut hair, people who wipe bottoms, and people who have experience and knowledge of serving the poor and most vulnerable people in our society.  

    I’m not convinced we will see an explosion of working-class ministers any time soon, but by the grace of God, and by opening the flood gates to allow the Holy Spirit to get in, our grand old institution might just wake up to the exciting potential of change that it so badly needs.