Peace
of the action
Quakers aren't the sort to make a fuss of a 350th anniversary. Instead, they will get on with their work - quietly struggling to defeat the forces of violence and extremism
Stephen
Bates
Guardian 22-05-02
The 17th century was a
great time for new religions. There were the Levellers, who wanted an end to
monarchy, the Diggers, who went around - briefly - cultivating common land, and
the Ranters, who shouted a lot. But the only ones really left, 350 years on, are
the Quakers, whose quiet reflection and gentle engagement with the outside world
now merit universal respect.
Being who they are, the
Quakers are not going in for much by way of celebration of their anniversary on
June 13. That was the date in 1652 when the travelling preacher, George Fox,
told 1,000 people near Sedbergh, Cumbria, about the inward light he had received
from God. This is generally taken to be the birth of the movement.
Fox's revelation - that
truth can be discerned through the inner voice of God, speaking directly to the
soul, unmediated by pastors, preachers, priests or popes - continues to sustain
more than 350,000 adherents worldwide and a rather more select 16,500 regular
attenders in Britain. Not for them the showy pomp of other churches, the
ululations of charismatics, the certainties of evangelicals or the desperate
quest for relevance of trendy vicardom.
Long after the Levellers
were driven off, and the Diggers hung up their spades, even after the Shakers -
a noisier, but more isolated and segregated sect - have all but died out,
leaving behind only their furniture designs, the Quakers still pursue their
quiet faith. They have learned the trick of participating in the world without
shouting at it, which must be a large part of their appeal - that and a
consistent record of social concern.
The condition of
prisoners continues to engage Quakers, nearly 200 years after Elizabeth Fry took
up the cause. Fry's portrait on the newly designed £5 note, released yesterday,
may be the only recognition the outside world pays to this year's anniversary.
Her work in distributing food and clothes to those walled up in the desperate
squalor of 19th-century jails finds an echo in the Quakers' current attempt to
establish a scheme to help convicted sex offenders, society's current
untouchables.
The Quakers' long-term
commitment to pacifism, too, remains in initiatives to promote conflict
resolution and non-confrontational strategies, even if today's intolerance and
fanaticism causes even the most convinced believer to sigh in despair. Who could
not warm to an organisation so concerned with moral values that a recent edition
of its quarterly magazine, Quaker News, contains the headline: Are Your
Shoelaces Ethical?
Quakers take such issues
seriously. The article says that Quaker Robin Robison, on the board of an
organisation called Ethical Trade International, is "both excited and
optimistic about the real possibility of influencing the conditions of workers
all over the world".
Attend a Quaker
gathering in one of their unfussy meeting houses - or perhaps somewhere like the
leisure centre where they rent a room in Chepstow, Monmouthshire, or the local
St John Ambulance headquarters in Halifax - and one can sense the timeless
stillness that is their hallmark. Contemplation is accompanied by prayers and
interventions by members of the meeting until, after an hour or so, an elder
senses that the meeting is drawing to its natural conclusion and everyone shakes
hands.
"Silent worship is
a chance for unmediated communication with the divine; I really appreciate
that," says Beth Allen, a long-time Quaker who works at Friends House, the
London headquarters sited alongside the noisy tumult of the Euston Road.
"Fundamentally, what it boils down to is, when all the singing and stuff
[of more charismatic denominations] dies away, what have you got left?"
Her colleague, Martina
Weitsch, says: "Worship based on silence is a good reason for me wanting to
be a Quaker. Silence and stillness is a real gift that has kept us sane for 350
years."
Allen adds: "There
is something about the integrity of Quakers. Your faith is not just for Sunday
mornings; true godliness enables man to live better in the world. Religion is
not supposed to take you away from reality - we don't know what happens when you
die; it's about making sure your life does not make the world a worse place than
it is and about how you might just contribute to making it better."
There are plenty of
examples of Quakers doing just this. There is a remarkable litany of
entrepreneurs and businessmen from the industrial revolution who were Quakers,
doing well by doing good. Many of them seem to have made sweets: the Frys and
the Cadburys were Quakers, an interesting by-product of a society that denied
them access to the professions because as non-Anglicans they were barred from
attending university. As Quaker entrepreneurs they did not wish to be associated
with suspect and unsavoury industries such as brewing.
"Of course, they
did not know then how unhealthy chocolate could be," says Eudora Pascall,
the Quakers' press officer, adding quietly: "My family made boiled
sweets."
Ah yes, Pascalls, makers
of fruity sweets, originally a consolation and comfort to the troops in the
trenches who sucked them to while away the hours of sentry duty. The Quakers may
not have fought, but they certainly provided succour to the combatants who did:
dressing their wounds, carrying them behind the lines - and sending them
chocolate and boiled sweets.
The Quakers' peace
mission still finds its outlet in non-violence campaigning and the Turning the
Tide campaign, which aims to show how cycles of conflict can be broken through
negotiation and peace strategies. It is a philosophy based on seeing God in
everyone; but in a world where fanatics see God only in themselves, Quaker
workers admit they see an uphill struggle against irrationality and fanaticism,
perhaps as difficult to overcome as any in their history.
Steve Whiting works on
non-violence campaigning, promoting it as a means of creating positive change.
He advises protest groups on their strategies, avoiding confrontation and
provocation in putting their case. So has he ever been on a violent
demonstration? "I have been in some situations where the feeling has not
been right, where there has been tension and underlying hostility," he
says. "I have seen protesters beating police officers and police acting
violently. One begets the other."
Would the Quakers ever
advise the forces of authority on non-violence? "No, because we are
interested in social change and working with groups campaigning for social
change," Whiting eventually replies. "We are not advocating
non-violence for its own sake, but to make a better world. We would enter
dialogue with the police, but they have never asked us."
So how do you tackle men
who hijack planes, or blow themselves up in crowded snooker halls, confident
their action will catapult them straight to paradise?
David Gee, of the
Turning the Tide campaign, wrestles with the issue. "If the world is
irrational, all the more need," he says, doggedly. "There are
alternatives - some of the factors are cultural and historical. It is sometimes
unavoidable to be despairing, but we can all be peacemakers in society. If we
become too bound up in the politics, we lose a sense of the light."
Undeniably, Quakers have
had an influence in changing attitudes to peace - even if, as Whiting bitterly
points out, war studies courses and military colleges far outnumber ones devoted
to pacifism. Quakers may not be able to influence the Taliban, but they do work
in war zones.
Of more immediate use
may be Circles of Support that Helen Drewery is in the process of establishing
in Britain. As reported previously in Society, this adopts a Canadian idea by
which sex offenders are befriended as their prison terms end and are helped by a
group of volunteers on release. Small groups will meet regularly with offenders,
perhaps even daily, talking through their lives, helping them rehabilitate,
finding them accommodation and jobs, persuading them to change their ways. Even,
maybe, shopping them to the police if there are signs of backsliding. A single
pilot project, with Home Office funding, is under way in the Thames Valley.
"The criteria will
be that the offenders will be considered to be high-risk and high-need in terms
of support in the community," says Drewery. "But they will also have
to admit to the nature of their offences and convince people that they want to
change."
It is the sort of
idealism that has sustained the Quakers for 350 years - a belief in finding
answers within themselves, without resorting to the mediation of a church
hierarchy or dogma.
Naturally, it is guided
by Quaker faith and practice, a philosophy which is updated and voted on every
generation or so. It states: "We have found corporately that the spirit, if
rightly followed, will lead us into truth, unity and love: all our testimonies
grow from this leading."
It is difficult to leave
Friends House without a warm glow of empathy for these transparently sincere
people. Their creed might not work for everyone, but if we could all live like
Quakers, the world would surely be a more pristine place.
Famous friends
George Fox
(1624-91): preacher and missionary; founder of the Society of Friends.
William Penn
(1644-1718): founder of Pennsylvania.
John Woolman
(1720-1772): pioneer for the abolition of slavery.
Elizabeth Fry
(1780-1845): prison visitor and campaigner for reform.
John Bright
(1811-1889): politician and campaigner against Corn Laws.
John Macmurray:
philosopher; influential on Tony Blair.
Kathleen Lonsdale:
Nobel peace prize winner.
Paul Eddington:
actor; star of Yes, Minister.
Jocelyn Bell Burnell:
astronomer; discoverer of pulsars.
Sue Doughty: Lib
Dem MP for Guildford is the only Quaker in the House of Commons, though Carole
Tongue, former Labour MEP, is also a Quaker.
Dame Judi Dench
(actor), Victoria Wood (entertainer) and Joan Baez (singer)
are among those who currently attend Quaker meetings.
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