A phrase that's come to worry me the more I hear it is "Quakers punch above their weight." And although I detest boxing, it's not the image of the punch that worries me. I'm just as worried when it's put more politely as "Quakers have an influence that's disproportionate to their small numbers."
I have two concerns about this idea of influence. One is that it seems a particularly sneaky way of going about things. In the struggle for the vote, women (whose campaign was never endorsed by British Quakers as a whole) were often told that their proper role was to exert a quiet influence behind the scenes - which meant, on the whole, those women who were classed as "ladies" acting as society hostesses or whispering ideas for policy into their influential husbands' ears. It never seemed much of a substitute for involvement in real, informed public debate and it plainly privileged those women who were not merely wealthy but also prepared to exert sweetly feminine charms to public and political ends.
I wouldn't accuse any Quaker of deploying sweetly feminine charms in this way. However Quaker influence behind the scenes has on occasion been exerted by Quakers using social contacts with highly-placed politicians that derive from class privilege and the manners of the wealthier members of society. This behind-the-scenes influence through social contacts goes in both directions. For instance, in 1907 William A Cadbury was persuaded by the foreign secretary Lord Grey to delay and limit access to the report into slavery in Principe and Sao Tomé he had commissioned because it might cause damage to the government's interests as well as the reputation of Quaker chocolate manufacturers.
But there's another concern. If we exert disproportionate influence, by what right do we do so? Do we really think we are heard because of our virtue - or is it because of our money and our manners? And if we are being heard, whose voices exert less influence than they should?
I think most Quakers would express shock if I stood up in Meeting and praised the way in which influence over parliaments is bought by the rich or achieved by those with the right contacts. I've heard Quakers express shock at the thought that friends of ministers might have been privileged in gaining PPE contracts. They might also be discomfited by the way political parties (in power and opposition) raise funds by charging for access to key politicians. But it's the standard game and all sorts of people play it. I've heard of charities, campaign groups I support, universities, local authorities and even NHS trusts trying to get on the right side of ministers by booking stalls at party conferences - and isn't that a kind of cash for access?
So how do Quakers gain their disproportionate influence? I'm prepared to agree, as a Quaker, that it's influence for things I too really care about: peace-making, help for refugees, LGBTQ rights and so forth. Well they - we - pay for it. We have offices and people who are good at talking with politicians. People with opposing views - and often with much more money - do the same things to advance their views. It's a messy process and hasn't got much to do with democracy.
Meanwhile there are groups who have much of importance to say whose influence is insufficient - who punch below their weight. The Grenfell Action Group were vigorous in their attempts to avert the fire that killed 72 people - but they were mocked, threatened and ignored. Yet they did their best to speak truth to power. Numerous campaigns seek the truth about other deaths when the state or big organisations are involved, but few have much impact on politicians or policy. If we're pleased that Quakers have a disproportionately large influence, what do we feel about those who influence is disproportionately small? And how does punching above our weight fit with our testimony to equality?
Just a paragraph before Fox's record of his 1652 Pendle Hill experience, he writes in his Journal: "The Lord had said to me, 'If but one man or woman were raised by his power, to stand and live in the same spirit that the prophets and apostles were in who gave forth the scriptures, that man or woman should shake all the country in their profession for ten miles around.'" (1831 American version, in _Works_, 1:140, corresponding to p. 103 in the Nickalls ed. of the _Journal of George Fox_.) Robert Barclay, in _Apology_, Prop. 10, §7, raises the question, "how cometh a man to be a minister... in the church of Christ?" He answers that such a person [man or woman] must be inspired, empowered, purified and sanctified by the Spirit of God for that purpose, "and his words and ministry, proceeding from the inward power and virtue, reaches to the heart of his hearers and makes them approve of him and be subject unto him" (p. 237 of the Quaker Heritage Press ed., which is online at http://www.qhpress.org/texts/barclay/apology/prop10.html). As then, so now: as the Spirit of God raises up prophetic voices to speak for God, that same Spirit gives, to at least some hearers, ears to hear them and feel the divine authority behind their words.
ReplyDeleteBarclay also writes in his Apology that he was greatly moved by the ministry of "labouring and mechanic men, altogether without learning" saying that "my heart has been often broken and tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from the powerful ministry of those illiterate men." I came across this today when re-reading George Gorman's The Amazing Fact of Quaker Worship, and it's a helpful reminder that Quakers once listened to the prophetic ministry of those who lacked respect and privilege in the world. It points, I think, to an absence and loss in the Society today.
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