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Freedom of Belief
3 min read

Always under pressure

Now condemned, the latest incidents of church burning in Pakistan are indicative of a continuing deeper pressure Christian communities face.
A crowd of people inspect fire damaged debris outside a burnt-out church.
The aftermath of a mob attack that burnt-out a church in Jaranwala, Pakistan.
Tearfund.

The pressure is once again rising for the four million Christians living in Pakistan.  

Earlier this month a crowd of thousands angrily descended upon the city of Jaranwala in North-Eastern Punjab, an area with a notably high population of Christian residents. The mob set fire to (at least) four churches, burned Bibles in the streets, vandalised a cemetery, and looted numerous homes believed to be owned by Christian families. Social media and news outlets are brimming with videos of these attacks taking place in broad daylight; people can be heard cheering and chanting as churches are set alight, while police officers seemingly stand by and watch the chaos unfold.  

These attacks were triggered by allegations that two Christians in Jaranwala had set fire to a Qur’an, thus breaking Pakistan’s strict blasphemy laws and insulting Islam. There is little evidence to suggest that this crime was committed by Christians, only that burnt and vandalised pages of the Qur’an were found scattered near this Christian community. Although the allegations therefore remain heavily disputed, the consequences that the Christian community have suffered have been severe.  

Despite this being one of the most destructive incidents in the country’s history, there are thankfully no reports of injuries or fatalities, as it is reported that the Christian residents were forewarned and therefore able to evacuate their homes in time. Nevertheless, the damage done to the community in Jaranwala is profound. Both Christians and Muslims alike have widely and vehemently condemned the violence directed at the Christian community in Pakistan, with Muslim leaders refusing to allow such violence to be carried out in the name of Islam.   

The depths of distress

The Right Reverend Azad Marshall, Bishop of a neighbouring city, has responded, stating that the Christian community throughout Pakistan are ‘traumatised’, ‘deeply pained’ and ‘distressed’. Bishop Azas has therefore called for ‘justice and action’ and an assurance that ‘our (Christian) lives are valuable in our own homeland’. Bishop Azad’s words imply that, perhaps unsurprisingly, the pain and devastation caused to the Christian community is multifaceted.   

The first layer of distress is the most obvious: the practical implications of these attacks continue to face this community and are a source of ongoing distress. Whole families are sleeping on the streets, their homes no longer safe, surrounded by the rubble of their beloved churches and the ash of their burnt Bibles. In response to the mass destruction, over one hundred men who are thought to have been involved in carrying out and/or inciting the riots have been arrested and detained. What’s more, the Pakistani government have handed out $6,800 as compensation to each Christian household affected, this is reported to be over one hundred Christian families in total.  

And yet, the words pouring out from Christians in Pakistan, so often echoing the words of Bishop Azad, speak of another level of pain and distress. This pain is pertaining to the lack of safety and value they experience in their own home as a result of their Christian identity. Such damage is not so easily compensated.  

Continual and extreme persecution

Pakistan is a majority Muslim country, with the four million Christians making up just 1.9 per cent of the population. According to the charity Open Doors, which monitors such incidents and who have placed Pakistan in eighth place on their World Watch List, the persecution that Christians face as a minority people group in the country is both continual and extreme. As well as the one-off incidents, such as the deadly attack of a church in 2017, which killed at least nine individuals, Christians in the country are subject to ‘a silent epidemic of kidnappings, forced marriages and forced conversion of Christian girls and women’.  

The Prime Minister has attempted to quell the deepest fears being vocalised by Pakistani Christians by vowing that his government will work to ensure their safety as a minority group. However, what is being highlighted in Pakistan is how a Christian identity can place on in the epicentre of political tension. We’re reminded once again that religious persecution can, and does, ensure that people feel unsafe and undervalued, unwelcome in their home countries. What is it like to live under the pressure of political extremists stirring up hatred toward you as a result of your beliefs? What must it feel like to feel such a tension in the country you call home? This is a daily reality for not only the 2 million Christians living in Pakistan, but the 360 million Christians who are living in persecution worldwide.  

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America
Church and state
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Idolatry
Politics
4 min read

Trump's triumph is not the end of the world, nor the dawn of a new age

Donald Trump may not be as bad as many fear and not as good as many hope

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

Silhoutted by a sun rise, a helicopter flies over The White House
Marine One Flying over The White House, Inauguration Day, 2017.
Anthony Quintano, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Reading reactions to Donald Trump's election win across different news outlets over the last couple of days has been an education in the contemporary political landscape.  

For left-leaning media the future is dark. An Atlantic opinion piece laments that “we must learn to live in an America where an overwhelming number of our fellow citizens have chosen a president who holds the most fundamental values and traditions of our democracy, our Constitution, even our military in contempt.” The Guardian called it “an extraordinary, devastating moment in the history of the United States.” It is a secular version of the sermon: “The End Is Nigh”. 

Yet turn to the Daily Telegraph, The Spectator, or anything on the right, and you find a mixture of gloating (“Trump’s triumph is a disaster for Starmer and the self-regarding, virtue-signalling elites!”) and optimism that a new day is dawning. Trump himself hailed the advent of a ‘golden age’ for the American people. Having been mired in misery since the Conservatives’ routing in the UK general election here is a welcome bit of good news for those on the right. 

On either side the apocalyptic note is hard to miss. A Telegraph writer says: “2024 is the real deal, a revolutionary moment, a reconstitution and realignment of American and Western politics around fresh principles.” A Guardian writer says that “there is nothing but bad news for Europe in Donald Trump’s US election victory. The only question is just how bad it will get.” 

Immediately after elections there’s always a bit of this apocalyptic tone. When Boris Johnson’s Conservative Party dismantled the ‘red wall’, winning traditionally secure Labour seats in 2019, the rhetoric was that this was a generational change, a fundamental re-alignment in UK politics to the right. Labour, surely, was finished. Five years later, after Keir Starmer’s landslide and the routing of the Tories, it all looks very different – at least here in the UK.  

Politicians always, in the long run, fail... The question is how badly they fail and whether they are able to do some good along the way until they do so. 

Tony Blair fell from grace due to misleading us all over the Iraq war. David Cameron fell because he lost a referendum over Brexit. Boris Johnson was ousted because he allowed parties in Downing Street while the rest of the country was locked down. George W. Bush pursued a disastrous campaign for regime change in the middle east. Barack Obama started with great hope, won a second term, but didn’t change gun laws and was widely thought to have weakened the US through a failed foreign policy. Joe Biden is thought to have failed because he let inflation grow rampant and allowed American borders become too porous.

Donald Trump will fail too. He may, as he promised, deliver an improved economy. He may stem illegal immigration. That, after all, is why many voted for him. But eventually he will disappoint. So would Kamala Harris if she had won. So will Keir Starmer. And that is not to criticise these particular leaders. Like football managers, they all get sacked in the end, and there are very few who like Sir Alex Ferguson, or Jed Bartlett, get to wave farewell to the crowds at the time of their own choosing. Even then, Fergie’s legacy was tainted by his inability to create a legacy, and Bartlett was, despite our misty-eyed nostalgia, a fictional President.  

It’s always tempting to reach for apocalyptic language at times like this. Yet the real meaning of ‘apocalypse’ is ‘revelation’, or ‘unveiling’. Taking the longer view, perhaps the real apocalyptic moment at times like these is the unveiling of the true place of politics – as important, but not ultimately important. These moments reveal the inadequacy of all human kingdoms, and our longing for a different kingdom, a kingdom of ‘righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit’ as the Bible has it, things that no government or election result can ever deliver.  

Politics matters because the way we live together matters. Yet what politics at its best can provide – a well-functioning economy, law and order, managing good international relations - only go so far in enabling a flourishing life. Like returning to a familiar drug that we think we can once and for all make us happy, despite the numerous times it has failed before, we still somehow believe that politics can solve all our problems. “Trump will fix it” said the banners – though in fact that is what every politician promises. Jesus warned: “Many will come in my name and say ‘I am he’, and lead many astray.”  

Most probably, Donald Trump will not be as bad as many fear, and not as good as many hope. Because politics is never the final word. As American theologian, Matthew Burdette put it recently: “The solution to our politics is not a political solution. Voting for the right or the wrong candidate will not change the situation: the devil is happily bipartisan, so long as politics is our idol. No, what is needed is fundamentally and thoroughly spiritual. Only when we can say with the prophet Isaiah that “the nations are like a drop from a bucket, and are accounted as dust on the scales,” that is, only when we can see against the horizon of the ultimate how small are our worries, will these relative, penultimate things like politics be set right and take on their true meaning in our lives.”