“Mr Sunak, I think you made a fair job of being chancellor, but you’re a pretty mediocre prime minister. Sir Keir, I think that your strings are being pulled by very senior members of the Labour party. Are you two really the best we’ve got to be the next prime minister of our great country?”
The question was searing, the audience reaction rapturous. In just three sentences, Robert Blackstock appeared to capture the mood of a nation.
For rarely has it felt like an election has been met with quite such apathy; neither of the two main parties inspire.
It was interesting, in one of the first of the many tv debates, to note how much time both Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer spoke about the opposing party; about how people ought to vote for them not because they had anything particular spellbinding to offer, but because they could keep the ‘other lot’ out. Just look at one of Keir Starmer’s closing speeches, reproduced in full (and I could have easily found a similar example from Rishi Sunak!).
“I don’t offer you the gimmicks or unfunded promises that Rishi Sunak does; I don’t pretend there’s a magic wand that will fix everything overnight. Instead I offer a practical, common sense plan to change Britain. This election is about who our country works for; the simple patriotic belief that Britain can be better, and must be better. Imagine how you would feel waking up on July 5th to five more years of the Conservatives; five more years of decline and division: the arsonists handed back the matches. Now imagine turning the page with a Labour government that rolls up its sleeves and gets on with the job, that puts the country back in your service. The choice at this election is clear: more chaos with the Conservatives, or the chance to rebuild Britain with a changed Labour party.”
In summary, at least we’re better than that lot over there…
It is not news to say that trust in politics and politicians is at an all-time low. From Partygate to Pinchergate, to Liz Truss vs the lettuce, and now the latest round of sleaze and scandal in the stories about candidates betting with inside knowledge about the date of the election, our dissatisfaction with politicians – something we’re well used to even at the best of times – has almost grown beyond anger to a feeling of resignation.
And that sense of apathy has ultimately applied to our leaders as well. Rishi Sunak’s favourability ratings, as surveyed by YouGov, stand at a grand total of -51. Keir Starmer may seem destined to become our Prime Minister by a potential landslide, and yet his too still stand in the red, at -21.
For all the talk of supermajorities – and if the polls are to be believed, they will end up with the largest majority in a century – it could well be that Labour gets there on the back of a lower voting share than Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour Party did when he lost the election in 2017.
‘Are you two really the best we’ve got?’ Of course, we know that we vote for a local representative, rather than voting directly on the Prime Minister, but it’s a question worth thinking about. As Christians, what should we expect from our leaders, and what shouldn’t we?
We have a natural tendency to have high expectations from our leaders; these are supposed to be the cream of the crop, the ‘best we’ve got’, the wise figureheads who will shape the course of our nation and represent us around the world.
And in a sense, I actually think that is fair enough. While we should always be wary of just drawing straight lines from the Biblical world – with its instructions for kings, priests and church leaders, none of whose contexts exactly map onto our political leaders today – the Bible does speak of high aspirations for those in authority.
Of which of our current leaders, could we say, with the Psalmist does about the King:
“You are the most excellent of men and your lips have been anointed with grace, since God has blessed you forever.” Gird your sword on your side, you mighty one; clothe yourself with splendor and majesty. In your majesty ride forth victoriously in the cause of truth, humility and justice; let your right hand achieve awesome deeds.” (Psalm 45:2-4)
God cares – and so we are to care too – about the way our leaders behave. Within the Old Testament, he rebuked and punished the Kings of Israel and Judah who did not act justly. Here is what he said to the Kings of Judah:
“This is what the Lord says: ‘Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place…But if you do not obey these commands, declares the Lord, I swear by myself that this palace will become a ruin.’” (Jeremiah 22:3,5)
And yet we know that no human leader can ever match up perfectly to the standards which God sets. Even the best of leaders will make mistakes. This is something Rishi Sunak himself admitted this week, when he conceded that no government will get everything right.
A Christian view of humanity will frame our expectations rightly; yes, humans are made in the image of God, and capable of good things, by his common grace…and yet, as humans we “all have have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
Our MPs, our governments, and our Prime Ministers are not the ultimate ones in whom we trust.
The Bible reorients our gaze towards the heavens, towards the only one who will never let us down, the only King who has never actually done wrong: God himself. The words of Psalm 20 make this clear, as the Psalmist looks for military success:
“Now this I know: The Lord gives victory to his anointed. He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary with the victorious power of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” (Psalm 20:6-7).
The Psalmist did not look to chariots and horses for success; nor was his trust ultimately in his earthly king. That is not because those are bad things, and nor is it saying that they are utterly ineffectual on a human-level. But God is the only one in whom we can perfectly rely.
We live in a world which has almost forgotten how to be gracious: one big mistake, and you’re out. There’s something ironic about the way each of our most recent Prime Ministers will probably all be remembered their biggest mistake: Blair for Iraq, Cameron for calling the referendum, May for failing to implement it, Johnson for Partygate and Truss for crashing the economy. I imagine Sunak will continue that trend.
No one would claim that being Prime Minister is an easy job, and particularly not at the current time, as the country recovers from Covid (with the knock-on effect that has had upon the economy, the NHS and so on), faces international unrest, and a cost-of-living crisis at home. There is no magic money-tree, no magic wand to make those problems go away. Instead, our politicians tend to be blamed for events, when they are so often at the mercy of them.
The political commentator Tom Harris, in an article for The Telegraph this week, urges us to lower our impossibly-high expectations:
“Perhaps the electorate gets the leaders they deserve. We are a nation of unapologetic opportunists, demanding that politicians solve all our problems while spending none of our money (or at least only spending other people’s money) to do so. We claim to respect those few courageous politicians who tell us the truth; we just don’t vote for such incautious fools.”
And it’s always so much easier to be an armchair commentator than it is to be ‘those who show up’ (in Andy Flannagan’s phrase). I sometimes wonder how our leaders are so patient, rather than simply saying, ‘You think you could do it better? Then have a go!’.
In 1910, Theodore Rooseveldt gave a speech in Paris entitled, ‘Citizenship in a Republic’. It’s become better-known today as ‘The Man in the Arena’. His words ring out for those of us who criticise happily from the sidelines.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
‘Are you two really the best we’ve got?’ Well, on one level, the answer is yes.
Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer are the men in the arena; those who showed up. Whatever the difficulties both men have had in controlling their parties, they seem, by all accounts, to be decent, capable, hardworking public servants, who will do their best for the country. And perhaps that shouldn’t be underestimated.
Last night was the first Presidential debate in America. On one side stood Donald Trump, now a convicted felon, and a man whose last presidency ended with supporters storming the Capitol building. On the other stood Joe Biden, struggling to remember his words and surely not in the physical condition to be the ‘Leader of the Free World’ (and who has his own questions to answer about his questionable conduct regarding his son).
And that’s before we even get onto the countries in the world which don’t even have free elections.
I’m always challenged by the fact that Paul and Peter’s words about honouring government and praying for our political leaders came in a context where their emperor was Nero. Suddenly Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer don’t seem so bad!
So yes, let’s pray for our leaders; and alongside Paul, let’s learn the secret of being “content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:12-13), and whoever the Prime Minister may be.
