When a member of the Royal family speaks, the world listens — not only because of their institutional importance but because they speak relatively rarely. Politicians tweet their way through Sunday lunch.
The papacy has turned into a flying press conference. A royal, however, plans each sentence weeks in advance. They are seen and not heard. So when Prince Charles took the risk of talking about religion on Thought for the Day, it had to be because he cared deeply about the subject. His message was grim. Tolerance is evaporating; the wars of religion are back. Comparing the situation to the 1930s, he noted that for millions “religious freedom is a daily, stark choice between life and death”. As well as the oppression of Christianity in Iraq, he referred to attacks on Yazidis, Jews and other minority faiths. These attacks aim to wipe out religious diversity. He added that “whichever religious path we follow, the destination is the same — to value and respect the other person, accepting their right to live out their peaceful response to the love of God”.
So this is what Charles meant when he was once quoted as wanting to be a “defender of faith” rather than a “defender of the faith”. Traditionalists were furious; cynics laughed. It conjured an achingly politically correct image: A future king who is a hippy at heart. There’s no denying Charles’s religious tastes are eclectic. He is close to rabbis, has regularly gone on retreats to the Orthodox Mount Athos and is patron of the Oxford Centre for Islamic Studies. This is not unusual as monarchs go. Queen Victoria’s house at Osborne was given a makeover by a Sikh craftsman. The Duke of Edinburgh’s mother became an Orthodox nun. We may think of the monarchy as quintessentially British — but it’s internationalist, even cosmopolitan.
Moreover, being defender of all faiths as well as one is not New Age voodoo. It reflects the evolving British constitution. The title “fidei defensor” was first granted to Henry VIII in 1521, by Pope Leo X — for denouncing Protestantism. When Henry had his own Protestant moment a few years later, the title was rescinded. Parliament returned it to Henry in 1544, accompanying the establishment of a new Church. Britain’s religious identity is not immutable, it is on a historical journey. My family comes from a long line of religious dissenters; to non-conformists, the royal family’s claim to headship of the faith has never made sense. In the past decade, attendance at Christian churches has plummeted while the number of Muslims has nearly doubled.
To adapt to a multi-faith society, the monarchy must grow beyond the language of the 16th century. Defending his position on fidei defensor, Charles has quoted a speech by the Queen in 2012, in which she said that the Church of England has a duty to protect the free practice of all faiths. Charles remembers something that too many of us have forgotten: A key part of British identity is religious freedom. Migrants often cite this as a reason why they went there. It causes problems, particularly with integration. But it’s generally something Britons should be far prouder of than they are. It is religious literacy, not secularism, that will bring an increasingly diverse nation together. Charles’s ability to speak to religions with reverence creates a palpable bond with his audience. This was a Christian speaking with respect to Muslims, united by faith in God. United also in abhorrence of religious persecution.
If the liberal 20th century set out to change us, the 21st shows that it failed. Old prejudices remain and wars of religion spill much blood. In the midst of this chaos, the monarchy — ancient, feudal, unequal — speaks with moral clarity. In Charles’s hands, it is safe and, more importantly, it is relevant.
— The Telegraph Group Limited, London, 2016
Tim Stanley is an English blogger, journalist and historian.
