Humanism in world affairs

Media

Part of Panorama

Title
Humanism in world affairs
Language
English
Year
1966
Rights
In Copyright - Educational Use Permitted
Abstract
From The Listener, December 2, 1965.
This is an intelligent explanation of the nature and effect of a philosophy of life which appeals to highly educated men.
Fulltext
■ This is an intelligent explanation of the nature and effect of a philosophy of life which appeals to highly educated men. HUMANISM IN WORLD AFFAIRS Lord Francis Williams, a Humanist, answers questions from Kenneth Harris May I begin by asking you what humanism means to you? I suppose humanism means to me personally a philoso­ phy of life, a philosophy which rejects or finds no need for any supernatural expla­ nation of the universe, but which has as its basis what 1 perhaps could best describe as a sort of limited certainty, the belief that over the ages we have developed a know­ ledge that gives us a certain amount of certainty about a certain number of things. This certainty, while provid­ ing a guide for present ac­ tion, may be altered by a new knowledge, therefore the essential thing is to be open-minded, not to believe in a system of absolutes, of blacks and whites, in which one has a closed mind. Does this philosophy of yours have the same inspira­ tional effect on your life as, for instance, the Christian philosophy does — or should — have on the Christian? I am never quite clear what, in this sense, is meant by inspiration. Perhaps I am not a very inspirational char­ acter, in that I get my sense of inspiration, my sense of uplift, which is what I sup­ pose you mean, from great poetry, from art, from the movement of nature, from a beautiful scene, and so on, and also from my sense, of the infinite variety and won­ der of ordinary human be­ ings. I do not need anything more than that. How did you become a hu­ manist? I suppose I might be des­ cribed as one of those odd creatures, a second-generation humanist, in the sense that although I come from a fa­ mily of a rather strong puri­ tanical chapel background, both my father and my mo­ ther had broken away from it. The family had been February 1966 21 Shropshire farmers for 500 years or so. My parents had broken away from it, perhaps because it was too rigid and puritanical a doctrine for either of them — for they were both, I think, generousminded people — to accept. Therefore I had — except when my grandfather was around — no particular com­ pulsions of religion in my youth, and I did not suffer, as many people have suffer­ ed, any great sort of trauma­ tic experience in trying to break away from a doctrine which had been put before me as the absolute necessity of life. Do you think that huma­ nism ever can be the thing in international affairs, in­ ternational relations, that Christianity, for instance, has been and is today? I would say that it is in a sense the inevitable and na­ tural approach in interna­ tional affairs. Christianity has a substantial force, but one has to realize that Chris­ tianity is only one among many great religions in the world, and in terms of the clashes of great power blocs, only one among many mytho­ logies. It seems to me that one of the significant facts in the world today — many people find it surprising — is the Immense passionate desire on the part of peoples of all nations to believe themselves to be democratic. They do not always act, in our view, democratically, but there is no new country that comes into existence, even if it immediately puts its oppo­ sition into prison, which does not declare that it is doing so in the name of democracy, in pursuit of the democratic ideal. Humanism can help here because it is essentially a democratic concept, be­ cause it believes, as democra­ cy believes, in a continuing dialogue, in an open-minded examination of each new is­ sue as it comes along, to try to determine what is best and most practical in the circumstances of the time as a guide to a common meet­ ing-ground, without the ine­ vitable restrictions of a rigid doctrine, religious or politi­ cal. Can humanism ever be the basis of understanding be­ tween two peoples that Chris­ tianity could be and has been? 22 PANORAMA Christianity has beeil the basis of a great deal of mis­ understanding between peo­ ples as well, hasn’t it? I mean, let us not get all con­ fused by the myth that Chris­ tianity throughout its history has been a great common binding force in the world. There has been nothing so severe as the great religious wars and conflicts. I would say humanism can be that link between peoples, simply because What the humanist in fact is saying is: ‘We must work in the belief that, so far as we can see^ Man is the chief agent, and the highest expression so far of the evo­ lutionary principle. In so far as he has a dedication it is to help forward that force of evolution. He can only do so by being constantly ready to, explore new ideas, to look at new political or economic principles as they come up, not as challenges to a prepared, established position which he holds, but as possibly a new system, a new idea, a new conception which is worth examination, some of which may be no good, parts of which may be capable of being absorbed into other systems, so that yOu have this constantly mov­ ing, fluid aproath’. One of the things that struck me about humanism, as a result of these inquiries I have been making is that to be a humanist, a man has to be a pretty mature per­ sonality and also a man edu­ cated — even if self-educated — considerably above the ave­ rage. Doesn’t this make it difficult for humanism to be­ come acceptable to, for ins­ tance, primitive people? I do not know that I would accept your premise. To be a theologian, to be a philo­ sopher of any kind in the higher ranges of that philo­ sophy, one has to be a fairly sophisticated and educated person. But I would have thought that humanism, for example, was very close to the approach of the ordinary English person with his con­ cept of tolerance, of looking at the other chap’s point of view, and so on. When you get to very primitive com­ munities, either Christianity or humanism has a problem in breaking away from con­ crete, conceptions of physical gods, of physical totems and so on, which have come to be important; but I would February 1966 23 not have thought that the break from that kind of pri­ mitive conception to human­ ism was more difficult than the break to Christianity — in fact in many ways I would have thought it less difficult. I wonder too, whether hu­ manism can be effective in international affairs in the way that Christianity certain­ ly has been, and sometimes is today — Christianity's ef­ fect on the slave trade, for instance? Is humanism suf­ ficiently specific to apply to international problems? I would think so; and when you say ‘Christianity’s effect on the slave trade’, this was only true of a particular group of Christians. What I think appals one, as one goes back historically, is the way in which people who were in many ways very genuine (Christians were able to accept either the slave trade or the idea that child­ ren of seven or eight should work in the mines, and the fact that this did not conflict with their idea of Christian­ ity. They were strong church-goers, strong Chris­ tians, but they had persuad­ ed themselves that they were of a different race, or a dif­ ferent group of people. I think the humanist could never do that, because the humanist sees the whole hu­ man race as one, at various stages of evolutionary dev­ elopment, and his concern is to help on that evolutionary development by exploring with an open mind every possible means of so doing. A couple of weeks ago the Archbishop of Canterbury made a statement about the use of force in Southern Rho­ desia. As far as he was con­ cerned, he said, he was mak­ ing a statement of Christian principles. Could a leading humanist say anything about some international problem in the same way as the Arch­ bishop did? Yes; I do not think he would say that he was mak­ ing a statement of humanist principles; I think he would say that he was niaking a statement of what seemed to him to be intelligent and human principles. He would not try to claim the authority of a great organized body behind him — and indeed the Archbishop got into a deal of trouble by doing just that. It has struck me very much recently on various occasions 24 Panorama when I have been marching in the same lobby with the Archbishop of Canterbury — on various issues like the Bill to end hanging, and so on — the virulence with which he has been attacked by other Christians for be­ having as they thought in an un-Christianlike way. Turning now to general international affairs, take the permanent East-West con­ flict, for instance. What can the humanists contribute to that? I believe to the humanist the East-West conflict repre­ sents movements by human groups to find solutions of human problems: solutions which at the moment differ, but each of which may con­ tain something from which the other could borrow, and from which one can learn — unless one gets oneself into the sort of position that that great Secretary of State in America, Mr. Dulles, once got himself into: the belief that there is an absolute black and an absolute white in international affairs. One’s attitude must be that each approach to a solution of political affairs is worth examining, and perhaps worth borrowing from. You have lived a very busy life; you have been engaged in a great many causes; you have worked for social re­ form. But now you are mov­ ing towards the period in life when you have to sit down and take things rather more easily. Do you think that humanism as a faith will be as attractive to you in your old age as it was when you were a busy man? Do you think you might perhaps long for the consolation of a religion like Christianity, for instance? I do not think so. In a way this problem — if it is a problem — came to me about three years ago, when I had a coronary and was laid on my back, and it seem­ ed to me to be quite possi­ ble that this might be the end. I found no sense at all of anxiety about the end, but a great deal of interest in considering what would be happening to mankind when I Was gone from it. — From The Listener, Dec. 2, 1965. February 1966 25