'A covenant with death and agreement with hell". These were the words used by the abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison to describe the American constitution, agreed in Philadelphia in 1787. And it is hard to disagree with his words. As the negotiations between the states proceeded, a terrible obstacle had loomed. What should the constitution say about slavery? If it outlawed the practice, Southern states would not join. The creation of the USA would never have happened and slaves in slave states would remain in captivity. Insisting on abolition wouldn't have freed a single person. Indeed, it might have prolonged slavery.
Yet the Northern states realised that slavery was morally abhorrent. They pressed the issue but in the end agreed to keep silent for the time being. They allowed the constitution to stay silent. They agreed to something horrible and wrong. But was their compromise the right thing to do given the alternative? Even now it is hard to untangle. Although I think they got it wrong, I shudder at the implications of that judgment. If only politics was easy. Unfortunately it isn't.
Let me explain why I am writing this. A few weeks back, I attended a meeting in the Speaker's House to launch Tzelem UK, an excellent initiative to promote social justice and to ensure Jewish values are part of the national debate. The basic ideas of caring for others, encouraging independence and personal responsibility, standing up for fundamental human rights and spreading peace and goodwill can all bear repeating. They never become banal. It is infinitely worthwhile ensuring that Jewish teaching and traditions help make the world a better place. Yet the problem with politics is that good and important values are often in conflict with each other. I felt that a failure to understand this properly characterised the Church of England's recent election manifesto.
Let me give you a few examples. There couldn't be anything worse than killing a child. Everything ought to be done to prevent that happening. Yet, during the recent attempts to close the tunnel network in Gaza, children were killed. We are all familiar with the arguments about self-defence and about the attempts to ensure the strikes were as carefully done as possible. But we are all familiar with the result. And despite the result, with great reluctance and in despair, most of us still think the right thing was probably done. That there wasn't much choice.
Standing up for fundamental human rights and being peaceable are both correct, but often it is hard to do both at once.
There are limits to religion’s role in national dialogue
Or to give a less contentious instance of conflict. We all think we should care for neighbours who need help. Yet, at the same time, if we are generous, people may choose not to support themselves. We believe both in compassionate generosity and in independence, yet often these two are in conflict. The church has its own example. It believes in equality and this was one of the keynotes of its manifesto. Yet it opposes gay marriage, believing that this undermines the meaning of "true" marriage. The conflicts between these two positions are obvious.
Judaism is better than Christianity, on the whole, in understanding these conflicts. It is one of its great strengths. And something that provides Judaism with a distinctive voice. Yet I think understanding these conflicts shows that, while there is a role for religion in the national dialogue, there are also limits to it.
