We are living through, or so it is universally assumed, the last days of a great pope. John Paul II rescued the Catholic Church from the self-destructive course on which it was drifting into oblivion, and put it firmly back on its traditional verities. He is a man of long and painful experience, acquired in dealing with the twin evils of Nazism and communism; a wise, bold and strong man, but also a priest of deep and rational compassion, a pontiff for all seasons of turbulence and trial. The aim of his philosophy is to inculcate in us what he calls ‘a just use for freedom’, and his thoughts on this point are set out in a little book, just published.* It is characteristic of his humanity that, in a world clamouring thoughtlessly for more and more freedom, he asks, ‘Yes, but will you use it justly?’
Easy to believe that Christendom, the entity coterminous with the Europe of history, is slipping away too, and being replaced by the new ‘Europe’ of Brussels — secular, materialist, libertine rather than free, profligate and corrupt, cowardly and selfish, the continent of hollow men and sterile women. It is a weak continent too, having turned its back on God, and placed the pursuit of pleasure and ‘security’ before risk and adventure, romance, poetry and service, before the faith of the pilgrim, the star of hope and the warm heart of charity. It is a Europe of interminable dole queues and bitter, hopeless middle-aged zombies who know they will never work again.
It is also a Europe of empty cradles and shrinking classrooms. The biggest demographic catastrophe in the whole of its history is beginning to be felt. Everywhere the birth rate is below the replacement level, and the gaps are being filled by immigrant Muslims, sullen and hostile now, waiting their day.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in