THERE are a number of possible reactions to David Cameron telling us that he is evangelical about Christianity. At least one of them requires a side-order of scepticism.

Religion and politics mix uneasily in this country. That strikes this religiously unattached observer as mostly a good thing. It always used to be said this was a Christian country, and it still is in an all-embracing, comfort-blanket sense. Yet it could also be said to be a multi-faith, secular country in which assorted religions stand alongside a widespread lack of belief.

Mr Cameron gave a number of sermons over Easter, and in one he leant down from his pulpit to criticise non-believers for failing to understand that religion helps “people to have a moral code”.

This is partly true and partly rather offensive; true in the sense that the written moral code is usually to be found in religious texts; offensive in the suggestion that only people of religion have a moral compass.

Religion and politics might be a queasy mix, but the two have woven round reach other on both sides of the political divide, with the Christian Socialist movement of the 1950s shaping Labour policy through the late John Smith and all the way to Tony Blair.

Mr Blair was and is a man of faith, but he kept a low profile on religion while in office, following the advice of his spin doctor, Alistair Campbell, who famously said: “We don’t do God.”

Mr Cameron’s decision to do God should be taken with a pinch or two of salt because he is a politician and politicians say these things for a reason.

The prime minister has form for this sort of thing, as before the last election he was metaphorically dressed in green and promised to lead the greenest government ever. He even had the Conservative logo changed to a tree (rumours that this logo, if blown up in size, reveals a note on the trunk saying “Keep ’orf My Land” can be discounted, as I just made that up).

Now Mr Cameron wants to ban wind-farms and has discovered an interest in God. The two are not unconnected: being, or appearing to be, concerned about the environment was a clever move from a Tory leader four years ago, as it helped to project a kinder, fresher image. Now playing that green card doesn’t play so well, especially as most of his supporters do hate a wind farm.

As for the God thing, one theory has it that Mr Cameron is rising to the challenge thrown down by Ukip leader Nigel Farage, who said British politics needed “a more muscular defence of our Judeo-Christian heritage”.

Another verbal hand-grenade tossed into the political scrum by the attention-generating Mr Farage.

As for Mr Cameron, he also said that some atheists failed to realised that faith could be a “guide or a helpful prod in the right direction towards morality”.

Even if we were willing to accept this statement, moral knots are never easy to loosen. Take, for instance, the politically contentious issue of food banks, many of which are run by religious charities such as the Trussell Trust.

Mr Cameron, wearing his scratched old Big Society badge, declares that food banks are doing a good and social job, yet his work and pensions secretary, Iain Duncan Smith, is opposed to food banks, with one of his officials reportedly accusing the trust of “misleading and emotionally manipulative publicity-seeking”.

It’s an interesting bind: food banks do important work and show the good religion can do; yet that work is mostly needed because of harsh changes to the social security system made by this government.

I suspect Mr Cameron may choke a little when trying to swallow both of those communion wafers.


LAST week’s column, if anyone can remember that far back, was inspired by the camera I could not find anywhere. As tends to happen in these matters, the camera was later discovered in a drawer, by my daughter. It doesn’t need to be said that it wasn’t there when I looked.

Still, at least the incident inspired a sketch in loss, which passed a little of my time and hopefully yours too.