Scars across humanity

This being the inaugural sexual abuse and sexual violence awareness week (#itsnotok), it seems pertinent that I should have just received my copy of Elaine Storkey’s new book, Scars across humanity: understanding and overcoming violence against women.

What a powerful, accessible, and challenging book.

Elaine Storkey, a feminist sociologist and theologian, has painstakingly explored the issues of violence against women across the globe, starting from the premise that violence against women is never acceptable.

“There is one universal truth, applicable to all countries, cultures and communities: violence against women is never acceptable, never excusable, never tolerable.”

– United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

Elaine has somehow managed to combine the dispassionate objectivity of academic rigour with a very human compassion for those countless women who have suffered as victims and survivors of violence. Drawing on her encounters with women across the world in her role as President of the International Aid Agency, Tearfund, Elaine has carefully compiled both data and human stories from as far afield as the United Kingdom and Ecuador, the United States and Afghanistan, to provide a comprehensive overview of the nature and impact of violence.

But Elaine does more than simply record facts and stories on issues as diverse as rape, trafficking, selective abortion and female genital mutilation. Through the pages of the book, she offers a unique critique of both sociological and religious understanding of women and their place in society, and our cultures that permit such violence to occur.

“Rape travels alongside trafficking and prostitution as the exercise of power over vulnerability. And that power is often layered and multi-faceted, pitting the economic, political or social status of the perpetrator against the insignificance of the victim. When the unbalance is made even more uneven by the lack of safeguarding measures, or indifference from authorities, trying to bring redress can simply feel like a task too overwhelming, and impossible to achieve.”

– Elaine Storkey

The book makes for harrowing reading. But it is a book that is also full of hope, presenting a vision of a future in which violence against women is no longer accepted, stories of change and progress, and holding out the possibility of healing and restoration for those affected by such scars across humanity.

“And I have seen the ugly face of hatred

As it ripped my flesh and seared my soul

Mocking my refusal with malicious, brutal force.

But I am learning to erase that gaze

And seek instead the gentle face of love

Which stoops to soothe my fear with tender touch

And travels patiently in step with me

On the long journey towards peace.”

– Survivors’ workshop

January 23, 2016January 23, 2016

The anarchism of the Gospel

The BBC's adaptation of Tolstoy's War and Peace — BBC’s adaptation of Tolstoy’s War and Peace

Giles Fraser’s latest Guardian column on War and Peace is one of his finest yet.

It is a while since I read Tolstoy’s great epic, and I found myself uninspired by the first episode of the BBC’s adaptation of it, but I remember at the time thinking that there was great truth and wisdom in its pages. Giles Fraser captures this magnificently, pointing out how Tolstoy’s practical, non-violent theology was a threat to both the church and the state.

“War and Peace is an extended argument for that most foolish of moral wisdom: pacifism”

With some of my recent blogs and Facebook posts, trying to explore issues of social justice, non-violence and radical hospitality, and through friends around the world who are standing up for similar principles, I have become acutely aware that such a path is often seen as both foolish and threatening.

“Tolstoy reminds us that to be a Christian is to be a fool and a social outcast, that anyone who wishes to follow Christ has to be prepared to die as an enemy of the state, nailed to the cross. It’s a little bit more than a few verses of Shine, Jesus, Shine on a Sunday morning.”

I would really encourage you all to read Giles Fraser’s piece:

Tolstoy’s Christian anarchism was a war on both church and state

January 9, 2016January 9, 2016

In support of our junior doctors

“If you attack the people who provide the care in the NHS, attack the quality of care they are able to give their patients, attack their motives for providing that care, then they feel it personally and respond passionately”

Mark Porter, BMA Council Chair

I am hugely proud of the NHS, having been a part of it now for nearly 30 years.

Like my junior doctor colleagues I want to be able to continue to provide safe care for children and families and to make a difference to people’s lives.

December 28, 2015December 28, 2015

Refugee: A sonnet for Epiphany by Malcolm Guite

This sonnet by Malcolm Guite brings a contemporary relevance to Herod’s slaughter of the innocents in the first century. Click on the link to listen to the poem.

Refugee

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,

Or cosy in a crib beside the font,

But he is with a million displaced people

On the long road of weariness and want.

For even as we sing our final carol

His family is up and on that road,

Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,

Glancing behind and shouldering their load.

Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower

Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,

The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,

And death squads spread their curse across the world.

But every Herod dies, and comes alone

To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.

December 20, 2015

Where is my God?

Why are you downcast, O my soul?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God.

For I will yet praise him, my saviour and my God.

Psalm 42

And yet my soul is troubled. Downcast. I long for something more.

Where is my God?

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.

Where can I go and meet with God?

I lay in bed last night, troubled and disturbed by judgemental attitudes – in the church and in our society – attitudes that condemn and blame, that offer no hope. That say to the messy, troubled parents at Dudley Lodge[1], or to other young people, pushed out by the very society that condemns them: “You’re not good enough”, “You don’t deserve this.”

But I don’t see that. They are beautiful, mixed-up, traumatised kids who surely deserve something better than what life has dealt them. Surely they deserve a hope and a future – for themselves and their children (and isn’t that, after all, what Dudley Lodge is all about – offering a hope and a future?) Not to be written off, cast down, given up on.

Where is my God for them?

I hate the abuse, the violence, the control that messes people’s lives, that destroys both the abuser and the abused; that says to its victims (abuser and abused), “You are filth, scum. You are no beloved child of God – created, beautiful, in God’s own image. NO – you are worthless, ugly, not worth the bother.”

How can I go “with the multitude, leading the procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng”?

Where is my God when, behind closed doors, women and children scream out in silence?

And where is my God while the bombs fall on Syria? While hundreds of thousands leave their homes in terror, risking their lives in search of something better? Or stay, amidst the gunfire and explosions, desperately longing for a peace that will not come?

All your waves and breakers have swept over me.

[1] A local family assessment unit where Lois and I have recently started spending some time each week with the residents and their babies.

December 12, 2015

Presenteeism and the culture of indispensability

After stepping down from my clinical work in November, I received a lovely card from one of my patients thanking me for being his doctor and expressing his hope that ‘my new doctor will be as nice as you’. Six weeks on, and we are no closer to finding a replacement, nice or otherwise! So, while I don’t regret cutting back on my work and dropping my clinics, I do feel both saddened and frustrated: my decision is leaving my patients unsupported, my colleagues stretched, and my secretary struggling to troubleshoot and keep things ticking over. I knew this was a possible, perhaps even likely scenario, but inevitably I feel some responsibility for that.

And yet, I am not indispensable.

Why doctors don’t take sick leave

A leader in this week’s BMJ highlighted how doctors tend to have much lower sickness absence rates than other healthcare workers (typically 1-1.5% compared to 4-5% for all healthcare staff). There are many reasons why this might be so, but one of the most significant ones is a culture in which doctors avoid taking time off sick so as not to let others down – whether their patients or their colleagues. This is admirable to a degree, and yet it betrays a deeper, potentially destructive culture of indispensability. We have a tendency to believe that the service won’t function without us. That, in turn, feeds a driven-ness that leads to long hours, apparent busyness and a kind of bizarre pride in always being overstretched.

This isn’t limited to doctors but seems to be a culture that pervades all professions.

It seems to me that this is an inherently dangerous and damaging culture. Clare Gerada, medical director of the Practitioner Health Programme, commented that

“a common personal impact on doctors who are ill is that what goes isn’t their competence, it’s their compassion for patients”

Being overstretched

I suspect the same is true, not just for doctors who are ill, but for all of us when we are overstretched. We can carry on performing our roles, but find it hard to offer that human touch: something that has perhaps been reflected in some of the scandals in care homes for the elderly and vulnerable adults in recent years.

I suspect that another element that goes by the board when we are overstretched is humility. When we are constantly struggling to get things done it becomes increasingly difficult to acknowledge our own limitations, to take time to reflect, to learn and improve, to accept our need of others. And ultimately, to recognise and value the very real contributions that we, uniquely, bring.

Ultimately what goes is also competence, though typically this comes some way down the line. The reality though is that a driven culture of indispensability threatens effective working and patient safety. I still remember the feeling, half way through a 104 hour shift as a junior doctor, sitting at a nursing station to calculate a drug dose, and realising that I couldn’t even think straight enough to carry out a simple 2-digit addition without the aid of a calculator, and recognising just how easily I could make a potentially fatal mistake.

That is why I am supportive of my junior doctor colleagues in their dispute with the government over a new contract. The proposed industrial action is not just about pay – I would find it difficult to defend if it were – but about patient safety, and about challenging this pervasive culture with all its inherent dangers.

Challenging the culture

And I, too, will continue to challenge it, in my small way, by attempting to live and work in a way that isn’t indispensable. I know I will continue to feel some responsibility for the gaps created by my cutting down my hours. But I know, too, that since doing so I have felt more motivated and inspired, and been able to give myself more fully to those aspects of my work which are continuing. I hope, ultimately, that will be of far greater benefit to my colleagues and to the children and families I am seeking to serve.

December 4, 2015

No terrorist sympathisers nor trigger-happy war mongers: reflections on Britain’s decision to extend air strikes to Syria

Reflecting on the events of the past few days, I feel both saddened and encouraged. After 10½ hours of impassioned debate, our elected members of parliament agreed, in a free vote, to extend British air strikes from Iraq into Syria, joining the USA and France in striking out against the awful group who call themselves Islamic State.

I feel saddened, because it seems clear to me that there will, inevitably, be civilian casualties from these air strikes. Those will include innocent children, whose lives already are marred and now have one more terror to add to those surrounding them. I feel a sense of despair that this action cannot achieve what its proponents seek – the elimination of Isil – but will merely exacerbate their resolve to fight back. In his concluding speech in parliament, Hilary Benn spoke of Isil:

“They hold us in contempt. They hold our values in contempt. They hold our belief in tolerance and decency in contempt. They hold our democracy, the means by which we make our decision tonight in contempt.” He pointed out their “belief that they are superior to every single one of us in the chamber tonight.”

Powerful words, and no doubt true. But it doesn’t take much imagination to hear almost identical words being spoken in a room of Isil leaders in Raqqa – about the leaders and people of the United Kingdom, United States, or France.

I long for an end to the terror and injustice being inflicted on the people of Syria.

But I fear that this action will exacerbate rather than eliminate that suffering.

However, I do, at the same time, feel heartened by the way in which this decision has been made. And I am grateful for the privilege, the immense and awesome privilege, of living in a land where such a decision has not been made lightly, behind closed doors, or by an unapproachable group of omnipotent tyrants. I feel grateful that I was able to write to my MP (who, incidentally, opposed the motion. Whether my letter in any way influenced his decision, I do not know, but I remain grateful for the freedom to write); others were able to stand outside parliament to express their views; I and others were able to blog and post our views on Facebook; to accept and respond to comments from both sides.

And in Westminster itself, no-one was taking the issue lightly.

Reading some of the words that were said, both in the House of Commons and the House of Lords, it seems abundantly clear to me that this was not a vitriolic debate between a bunch of trigger-happy war mongers and their opposing terrorist sympathisers. Rather both sides seemed to approach their arguments from a deep desire to do what is right. And yes, this was far from perfect, there were no doubt mixed motives on both sides, and there was, at times, enough vitriol both in and out of the chambers, but that was far from being the tone of the debate.

Arguments in favour of air strikes

So the arguments in favour of air strikes were mostly framed in a sense of justice, wanting to put an end to the terrorising regime of Isil; not wanting to abandon those who are suffering on the ground in Syria, to “walk by on the other side of the road” (although that is an interesting twist on the parable of the good Samaritan who stopped to bind up the wounds of the one who had been brutally attacked, not to beat the hell out of those who had attacked him); wanting to protect the freedoms and democracy that we hold so dear; and longing for a more peaceful world, free of terror. Those are attitudes and beliefs with which I sympathise.

Arguments against air strikes

Likewise, those speaking against air strikes were longing for a more peaceful world, one that is free of terror and violence; they, too, want to protect the freedoms and democracies of our society; they want an end to the injustice and suffering of the ordinary people of Syria. They are not ones who are burying their heads in the sand, or walking by on the other side of the road. Rather, they were calling for alternative approaches which would get more to the root of the problem, without further escalating the violence.

A more comprehensive approach

So a free vote committed us to military action. I believe, for most, if not all, those in Parliament, that vote was not taken lightly.

And now our planes are flying over Syria, dropping their weapons of destruction. In his speech in the House of Lords, Archbishop Justin Welby, while believing that ‘just war’ criteria had been met, warned that the UK could “end up doing the right thing in such a wrong way that it becomes the wrong thing”.

That is a warning we need to reflect on. He called for a far more comprehensive approach. While we cannot now undo the decision that has been made, surely we can put equal effort and resources into seeking the further non-violent actions that are needed to truly defeat terror.

November 29, 2015

Fighting terror with terror: a letter to my MP

Dear Mr Cunningham,

I am writing to you as I am increasingly concerned by the way the debate in Parliament on military action is going, and the direction in which Mr Cameron seems to be taking our country in his proposed response to the Paris terrorism attacks.

We have all been horrified by the indiscriminate brutality of the Paris attacks. Like the rest of the population, I would not want to see such atrocities take place in Britain, and I would want to stand in solidarity with our neighbours in France.

However, I cannot see how military action in Syria can do anything but escalate the crisis, and cause even further suffering for thousands of innocent people. I understand that the death toll in Syria after four years of civil war is now over 250,000, nearly half of them civilians, and over 12,000 children. The lessons of Iraq tell us clearly that, no matter how technologically advanced our weapons, the reality is that we cannot accurately target terrorist groups in these countries, and that the more the fighting escalates the higher the civilian death toll will rise. If we respond to the terrorist threats with airstrikes and bombs, innocent civilians and children will inevitably die. We cannot take that risk.

It is also difficult to see how military action could possibly do anything other than strengthen the cause of terrorists. Writing in the Guardian on 27.11.15, journalist Jürgen Todenhöfer pointed out that in 2001 there were perhaps a couple of hundred terrorists in the Hindu Kush; following George Bush’s war on terror, and the loss of as many as one million Iraqi lives, there are now an estimated 100,000 terrorists posing a threat to the international community. Isis was apparently created six months after the start of that invasion. If the West continues to drop bombs on Syria, killing civilians in the process, this will only provide welcome ammunition to Isis and result in the alienation and radicalisation of yet more disenfranchised people.

The lesson is clear: we cannot beat terror with terror.

I recognise that there are no easy solutions to the threats posed by terrorist groups, nor to the ongoing oppression of unjust regimes in Syria and elsewhere. However, there are alternatives to the escalation that would come with air strikes. I would suggest four key strategies in which we could positively engage: to stop Gulf states delivering weapons to terrorists in Syria and Iraq; to help Turkey seal its long border and prevent the flow of new fighters joining Isis; to support moves to give the Sunni population in these countries a voice; and to fully invest in social and economic development in Syria and its neighbours.

Wardah Khalid, Peace Fellow in Middle East policy at the Friends Committee on National Legislation in the States makes similar proposals:

‘Create a comprehensive, multilateral strategy with our allies, including the Arab League and the U.N., that includes such tools as a regional arms embargo to prevent weapons from going into the wrong hands, penalties for purchasing illicit oil that funds the Islamic State group and more money for diplomacy and humanitarian aid. A political solution to Syria and its President Bashar Assad must also be revisited, as the power vacuum there is what allowed radicals and their foreign backers to first take hold.’[1]

So I would ask you, for the sake of the many suffering children and adults in Syria, and for the sake of our own national security, to please vote against any military action in Syria.

Yours sincerely

[1] http://www.usnews.com/opinion/blogs/world-report/2015/02/18/stopping-the-islamic-state-group-without-the-bombs?src=usn_tw