Chief Rabbi, Lord Sacks
Introduction
1. The House of Lords is a fine institution in
need of reform. In this submission I focus on one feature only
of that reform—the appropriate role and composition of the
"Lords Spiritual" in a morally and spiritually diverse
society. The argument is set out in the following stages. First
I give a brief Jewish perspective on state and society. Then I
suggest its relevance to contemporary Britain. I next consider
the role of the Church of England and the existing Lords Spiritual.
I end with a proposal for broadening the composition of this group.
State and Society: A Jewish Perspective
2. The contribution of ancient Greece to our
views of government is well known. Less well known is the influence,
through the spread of Christianity, of the Hebrew Bible. Yet it
was the Hebrew Bible—through the writings of such thinkers
as Hobbes and Locke—which laid the foundations of modern,
limited, constitutional government. In the words of Lord Acton,
"the example of the Hebrew nation laid down the parallel
lines on which all freedom is won".[1]
[154]3. Three
features of the biblical vision are especially germane to contemporary
political-philosophical debate. The first is a distinction between
state and society -and thus between political and
civil institutions. The state is brought into being by a social
contract (I Samuel 8—where monarchy is created at
the request of the people). Society is brought into being a social
covenant (between the people and God at Mount Sinai; Exodus
19-20). Covenant is prior to contract. Right is thus sovereign
over might, setting moral limits to the state. This is the origin
of the concept of human rights.
4. The second is the division and separation
of powers. In biblical times this was tripartite—kings,
priests and prophets. Functionally, kings represented the institutions
of state. Their tasks were defence and the maintenance of the
rule of law. Priests were the religious establishment. Prophets
were those who mediated between the immediacy of kingship and
the eternity of priesthood. Their task was to read history in
the light of destiny. They are the earliest known social critics.[2][155]
5. The third insight follows from the previous
two. The institutions of state, for Judaism, cannot stand alone.
They are predicated on society, which itself depends on the health
of certain institutions: families, schools, communities, and the
moral bond which links us to one another and to past and future
generations. This is the covenantal, as opposed to contractual,
dimension of our common life. It was the particular role of the
prophets to insist that it is moral rather than military or economic
strength that ultimately determines the fate of nations.
6. This proposition was put to the test. In the
first and second centuries CE, after a series of disastrous confrontations
with Rome, the Jewish people lost its Temple, sovereignty and
land, and thereafter existed only as a diaspora until the rebirth
of the State of Israel in 1948. For almost 1800 years Jewry survived,
not as a nation-state, but as a series of communities whose central
institutions were the home, the school, the synagogue and the
moral-spiritual code of the Hebrew Bible and its later elaborations.
Judaism is thus an unusual example of a civilisation that has
existed, for the greater part of its history, without the instrumentalities
of a state, by virtue only of the strength of its civil institutions.
7. These insights have taken on a new salience
with the revival of interest in civil society. There are
eras in which the keyword of politics is the nation state.
There are others in which attempts are made to minimise the state
and emphasise the individual. There are yet others—ours
is one—in which people recognise the limits of both the
state and the individual. The one is too big, the other too small,
to solve certain problems. At such times, intermediate institutions
such as the family, the educational system, and the community,
occupy centre-stage.[3][156]
These have always been at the heart of diaspora Jewish life. This
is not to claim universal validity for Jewish approaches to these
issues. It is simply to say that a Jewish voice has a contribution
to make to debate and reflection on contemporary society.
Society: A Collective Conversation
8. How then to apply a covenantal perspective
to constitutional reform? Societies change. One of the most profound
changes in the West has been the move from society conceived as
a monolith (one nation, one religion, one culture) to society
as an arena of diversity. This began in the wake of the European
Wars of Religion and has continued ever since, progressing from
toleration to emancipation to liberalism
to pluralism. But what binds a plural society? What sustains
a sense of the common good? What legitimates institutions when
morality itself seems pluralised and relativised?
9. One way of thinking about such questions is
to reflect on the concept of authority. There were times when
authority was predicated on the possession of power inherited
(monarchic) or delegated (democratic), revealed truth (ecclesiastical),
or wealth (aristocratic). These divisions are still reflected
in the British constitution—in the form of the Sovereign,
the House of Commons, and the Lords Spiritual and Temporal. The
lacuna in this constitutional framework is a locus of authority
appropriate to a plural society.
10. Individuals enter the public square in two
ways. The first is as individuals with needs, aspirations
and rights; in a word, with interests. In democratic societies,
politics is the institutionalised resolution of conflicting interests—aggregated
in the form of political parties. The home of this process is
the House of Commons.
11. But individuals also enter the public square
as members of families, communities, and moral and spiritual traditions—institutions
in which the "We" has primacy over the "I".
These institutions are vital to our sense of identity. If they
do not have a voice, people are left with the feeling that the
public arena excludes some of their deepest commitments.[4][157]
They are also the matrix of motives such as altruism, moral obligation,
duties to society, respect for tradition and guardianship of the
environment which can be marginalised in the adversary culture
of political debate. They belong to the covenantal, as
opposed to the contractual, dimension of society.
12. In a plural society, by definition, moral
authority does not flow from a single source. Instead it emerges
from a conversation in which different traditions (some religious,
some secular) bring their respective insights to the public domain.
The conversation can take many forms. Most are informal. By contrast,
the significance of public, and especially parliamentary, institutions
is that they are the formalised arena of public conversations.
One of the questions to be asked of any set of constitutional
arrangements is: what is the nature of the conversations they
allow and encourage to take place?
13. One type of conversation is particularly
important to a society that is diverse and undergoing rapid change.
It concerns such questions as these: What kind of society do we
seek to create and with what kind of citizens? What behaviour
and which attitudes do we wish to encourage or discourage, and
by what means—legislative or other? This is the ongoing
moral conversation fundamental to the long term project of
society. The state of moral thinking at any moment frames the
environment of legislation and reaches into attitudes and dispositions
far beyond the reach of legislation. It colours individual action
and influences the direction of many groups throughout society.
14. This kind of conversation constantly takes
place within groups (churches, synagogues and other religious
and voluntary associations). However, it does not necessarily
take place between groups. Yet there must be an arena where
different groups meet if there is to be a public moral conversation—if,
in other words, institutional reality is to be given to the idea
of society as a "community of communities".[5][158]
15. The significance of this conversation does
not lie solely in the conclusions it reaches. It has two other
consequences. The first is that the mere activity of bringing
together diverse individuals and groups to reflect on moral issues
is vital to sustaining a shared language of values. This
is especially important when there is no longer an agreed locus
of moral authority in society. Without a public arena of moral
debate, a plural society rapidly fragments into a series of interest
groups advocating their case in the minimalist vocabulary of "rights".
This encourages conflict while eroding the richness of language
within which a nuanced resolution might be reached. The classic
case is the issue of abortion in the United States.
16. The other is enlistment, and this
depends on the inclusivity of the conversation. A conversation
that draws the many traditions represented in society into debates
about its future, enlists those groups into the project of the
common good. It provides them with "voice"—and
"voice" is essential to loyalty,[6][159]
that is, to a sense of ownership.
17. Unlike debates framed by conflicting interests,
those generated by diverse traditions do not necessarily aim at
the victory of one side over another. They may aim simply at mutual
enlargement and the creation of a shared vocabulary of concern.
A concept drawn from inter-faith relations is relevant here. Whereas
in the Middle Ages encounters between faiths were marked by disputation
(public trials in which Jews were invited to hear the truth of
Christianity demonstrated), today they are characterised by dialogue.
Dialogue does not aim at the victory of truth over falsehood,
but at a shared process of speaking and listening in which we
come to see ourselves as persons-in-the-presence-of-the-other.
Shorn of its specifically religious connotations, dialogue is
an appropriate model for an essential element in the public conversation.
It emphasises what we share. Its premise is that we are enriched,
not diminished, by diversity. It teaches us to speak to those
we do not seek to convert but with whom we wish to live.
18. In short, a covenantal perspective on constitutional
change directs our attention to the deliberative processes in
state and society. These must include not only an arena in which
conflicts of interest are resolved, but also one in which our
several moral and spiritual traditions meet and share their concerns
and hopes. The health of a free and democratic society is not
measured by representative institutions alone. It is measured
by the strength and depth of the public conversation about the
kind of social order we seek to build.
Constitutionalising the Conversation
19. The appropriate home of covenantal conversations
is the House of Lords. That is part of the role of a deliberative
Second Chamber.
20. At present, in Britain, the public moral
conversation is under-institutionalised. There is no arena that
brings together the great faith traditions, along with the other
sources of moral influence and wisdom in society. Such encounters
as take place are random, spontaneous and disconnected. They have
no official standing. They are usually reactive, and give rise
to the phrase "moral panic". This is a lost opportunity.
Ideally, Britain should have, within in its deliberative assemblies,
a forum for ongoing moral commentary on both legislative proposals
and developments taking place in society. This should be large
enough to have a voice, but not so large as to constitute a veto.
That would be at odds with parliamentary democracy.
21. Historically, the moral and spiritual voice
of society was taken to be the Church of England. Hence the twenty-six
bishops who comprise the "Lords Spiritual". At some
stage, from the 1960s onwards, an attempt was made to find an
alternative voice that would better represent a secular society.
The preferred option (by way, for example, of Chairmanships of
Royal Commissions) was often a professional philosopher, especially
one working in the Bentham-John Stuart Mill traditions of utilitarianism
and libertarianism. It was assumed that these traditions were
best suited to the search for the right in a post-religious age.
22. Both models had great virtues and were right
for their time. Ours, though, is a different time with different
needs.
23. Christianity remains the majority faith.
The Church of England remains the established church. These facts
should continue to be reflected in a future Second Chamber. In
my 1990 Reith Lectures I defended the existence of an established
church in these words: "Our current diversity makes many
people, outside the Church and within, feel uneasy with that institution.
But disestablishment would be a significant retreat from the notion
that we share any values and beliefs at all. And that would be
a path to more, not fewer, tensions."[7][160]
Establishment secures a central place for spirituality in the
public square. This benefits all faiths, not just Christianity.
It invests national occasions with an aura of sanctity, which
is to say, a sense of the presence and sovereignty of God. This
is the best defence against totalitarianism, the absolutisation
of human rulers and institutions.
24. Each nation charts its own route to freedom,
and that becomes part of its history. The United States found
it in the Jeffersonian separation of Church and State. Britain
found it in successive acts of emancipation and liberalisation,
alongside an established church charged with the burden of generosity
toward others. Throughout the twentieth century, Britain has remained
a tolerant society while anti-semitism was rife in continental
Europe, from the Russian pogroms to the Holocaust. The Church
of England is part of that tradition of tolerance—and is
more likely to remain so as an established church than if it were
disestablished and turned into a more sectarian organisation.
25. Christian representation in the Lords should
be broadened. To some extent this has already happened through
the presence of the late Lord Soper, and now Baroness Richardson.
However, the absence of a Catholic representative is conspicuous.
Catholicism is part of the mainstream of British life. Catholic
emancipation took place in 1829. It may be that there are compelling
theological reasons for Catholic bishops not to take part in the
Lords. If so, that fact must be respected and honoured. If not,
a Catholic bishop—preferably the head of the Catholic Church
in Britain—should certainly be included.
26. So too should representatives of the non-Christian
faiths. Today they form a vital part of the text and texture of
British society. Each has an important contribution to make to
public debates and civic involvement. Their presence is essential
if these groups are to feel that they belong and have a valued
presence in the public square.
27. In this respect it is important to distinguish
two things which are sometimes confused—the defence of
interests and the articulation of principle. Minorities
in Britain can be seen under different rubrics, as ethnic groups
or as faith communities. "The Asian community" is an
ethnic description. "The Sikh community" is a religious
one. Sometimes ethnic and religious categories coincide, but they
remain different ways of envisaging group identity. An ethnic
group has interests it must defend. A religious group has principles
it must expound. I have doubts as to whether ethnic groups as
such should be represented in a Second Chamber. It is the task
of Members of Parliament to defend the interests of their constituents,
whatever their ethnicity. This is better than creating, in effect,
a set of pressure groups in an Upper House—thus encouraging
the view that only Asians can defend Asians, and so on. Certainly
both Houses—indeed all national institutions—should
be ethnically diverse. But there is a difference between diversity
and representation. Minorities should be represented among the
"Lords Spiritual" as faith communities, not as ethnic
groups.
28. The principle is simpler than the practice.
It is hard to define a faith community. Not all faith communities
are formally organised. Some contain multiple strands and denominations.
Many have no generally recognised national leader. Some leaders
serve for relatively short periods, and are thus unable to provide
the kind of long term presence a sustained conversation needs.
There are no abstract principles that would yield an agreed formula
for representation. Each is fraught with difficulties and is likely
to raise conflicting passions and disappointed expectations.
29. Fortunately, the British constitution has
never proceeded on the basis of abstract principles. The best
approach is modest, informal and gradualist. Not simultaneously
but over the course of time, other religious figures should be
added to the Second Chamber, on the recommendation of the Prime
Minister, using existing methods of scrutiny and consultation.
Broadening the religious spectrum in the Upper House should be
a background objective, not a formal programme, and membership
should be ad personam, not ex officio. Those chosen
should become Life Peers, so as to encourage continuity of contribution.
Conclusions and summary
30. There is a vital role to be played by a more
broadly conceived "Lords Spiritual". Reform of the House
of Lords is the appropriate opportunity to create it. The Archbishops
and Bishops of the Church of England should continue to be the
majority presence as representatives of the established church.
They should be augmented, over the course of time, by a small
group of individuals drawn from the other Christian churches and
from the major non-Christian faiths. Such a group would add greatly
to the moral authority, imaginative reach and inclusive character
of the House of Lords. It would constitute a forum in which the
several faith traditions—so central to the identity of many
Britons and to the collective memory of mankind—join their
voices to the deliberative process of dialogue and debate through
which a society renews itself and frames its collective future.
Lord Sacks has been Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew
Congregations of Britain and the Commonwealth since 1991. He holds
fifteen honorary doctorates and currently holds Visiting Professorships
at King's College, London and Birkbeck College, University of
London.
[ 154 1] Lord Acton, Essays in the History of Liberty,
Indianapolis, Liberty Press, 8. Back
[ 155 2]
Michael Walzer, Interpretation and Social Criticism, Harvard
University Press, 1987. Back
[ 156 3]
A full analysis is set out in my The Politics of Hope,
London, Jonathan Cape, 1997. Back
[ 157 4]
See particularly the recent works of Yale law professor Stephen
L. Carter - The Culture of Disbelief, The Dissent of the Governed,
Civility and Integrity. Carter is one of several
who have argued that the principled secularity of public debate
in the United States alienates many, even most, citizens from
the political process. Back
[ 158 5]
See J. Sacks, The Persistence of Faith, pp. 84-94. Back
[ 159 6]
A. O. Hirschman, Exit, Voice, and Loyalty, Harvard University
Press, 1970. Back
[ 160 7]
The Persistence of Faith, 68. Back
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