A victory for the Green Party in Germany sheds light on just how liberal a man of faith can be, writes BREDA O'BRIEN
PERHAPS NOW we have finally established that we are completely dependent on Frankfurt, and the only people being burnt are ourselves, we might pay more attention to German politics. Aside from a grim satisfaction that Angela Merkel had other things to worry about than us, the Green Party’s victory in the Baden Württemberg state elections generated little Irish attention.
However, it was quite a stupendous victory, ending 58 years of Christian Democrat (CDU) domination in the state, with the Green leader, Winfried Kretschmann, set to become the first Green “minister president” or governor.
The constant references to Kretschmann as a conservative caught my eye. A quick Google, by no means a scientific experiment, seemed to indicate that the adjectives most often used about him were Catholic, conservative and devout. Any of the above, let alone three in combination, would probably signal the kiss of death for an Irish politician.
It’s interesting. Wealthy we are not but, on paper at least, we are even more Catholic than the 70 per cent Catholic southern German state. Yet it is impossible to imagine that being a member of the church choir and actively involved in the Catholic Church at national level as Kretschmann is would be a positive factor in Ireland. (Kretschmann is also a member of his village’s shooting club. Guess nobody’s perfect.)
Of course, there were many other factors at play in the electoral success, not least the grim scenario unfolding in Fukushima’s nuclear plant. The power has to come from somewhere – and if it comes from coal, the consequences will be disastrous for the Greens.
Naturally, they propose that it should come from alternative energy sources, including wind, and that it represents an enormous opportunity for growth. This message was ignored in our own recent election.
There was also the widespread disenchantment in Germany, the feeling that the thrifty Germans are having to bail out the ne’er-do-wells of Europe.
It is fascinating, though, to probe a little deeper into Kretschmann’s alleged conservatism. It seems to centre on his regular religious practice and the fact that he is anti-abortion.
So far, so Irish. Both are enough to categorise an Irish person as being to the right of Genghis Khan. However, he himself says that he grew up in a liberal Catholic family, where debate was the order of the day.
Some years ago, as clerical abuse scandals were surfacing with appalling regularity in Germany, he said that Pope Benedict XVI had damaged the trustworthiness of the Catholic Church. Hardly the act of a card-carrying conservative. More importantly, perhaps, you can still be classed as conservative in Germany if your election manifesto declares that there will be no further tax cuts, you are anti-nuclear power and decidedly anti-car.
In addition, according to Uwe Siemon-Netto, the former religious affairs editor of United Press International, Kretschmann proposes a “citizen society” that would recruit ordinary people to collaborate on big projects, and proposes to lower hurdles for initiating referendums. Part of it may be Kretschmann’s personality – he is described by the Economist as an “avuncular pragmatist”. News magazine Der Spiegel said, “Instead of fiery political speeches, Kretschmann relies on intellectual seriousness – blood pressures tend to sink rather than rise when he strides to the podium.”
We are at a crossroads in Ireland in relation to the role of faith in public life. There is general consensus the Catholic Church’s domination of education cannot continue. However, it would be troubling if there was a similar degree of consensus that a secular world view which reduces religious belief to the status of a private hobby represents some kind of progress.
Secularism can act as a guarantor of the rights of all reasonable people to participate in the public square. It would be deeply ironic if, instead, it were used as a weapon to exclude certain voices. For example, a change in patronage in primary education is meant to increase pluralism, not turn Irish education into another one-size-fits all entity. There are people who propose that secular education, one that explicitly excludes faith formation, is somehow more inclusive than having the majority of schools be faith-based.
However, such a secular ethos sends out a strong message to young people that while gender, skin colour and disability are all valuable and welcome in a diverse society, faith is so divisive it has to be parked outside the classroom door. Some have said that politics is parked in the same way, that the parents’ political affiliation is irrelevant, too. On the contrary, second-level schools at least, spend significant amounts of time trying to encourage political awareness and participation.
It is doubtful that the proposed secular schools would actively encourage participation in faith activities as an invaluable part of citizenship. The proposed commission on school patronage offers a really important opportunity not just to look at the strengths and deficits of faith-based education, but at a mature attitude to religious belief.
Handled badly, it will descend into the usual mud-slinging. Handled well, it could bring us to a situation where we are closer to being a more genuinely inclusive society, where people of all faiths and none can contribute.
At a time when we understandably look with jaundiced eyes at all things German, we could still learn from the greater level of comfort in Germany with the idea that religious beliefs do not have to be parked in order to function well in the public square. Instead, they can be a positive factor.