Some of us, myself included, had come to know each other prior to 1989, in the long battle to affirm the shared civilisation of Europe against the obliterating tyranny of communism. Others, much younger, had been drawn to our circle in search of another philosophy than the empty cosmopolitanism of the new European elite. Over the years we have tried in our various ways to define what Europe really stands for, and to reaffirm our links with the European diaspora and with Western civilisation as a whole.

The statement is a response to a deep crisis in the culture and self-image of European society. No thinking person can doubt the existence of this crisis, or its connection to the dominant liberal orthodoxies of the EU institutions. Europe is defined by its inheritance. This inheritance includes the Christian religion, secular jurisdiction, and the idea of citizenship. Thanks to those inheritances Europe has enjoyed a distinctive political culture: one of mutual responsibility among people who define their identity in national terms and who make their laws by a process of democratic consultation. To defend that inheritance, however, is to invite the charge of populism, nationalism, racism and xenophobia: terms of abuse that are thrown thoughtlessly at all who believe that national identity and customary loyalties are the sine qua non of peaceful settlement.

Our statement is in part an attempt to define the areas where the true idea of Europe is in conflict with the false idea that is being imposed upon us. According to the false idea Europe is a ‘multicultural’ society, with no special allegiance to the religious inheritance or national identities of the European people. It is a society without borders, in which national sovereignty is to be eroded or discarded in favour of government by a bureaucratic elite. The false Europe extends a welcome to globalism in all its forms. It is to open its borders to immigrants without concern for their culture, their values or their capacity for the kind of territorial loyalty that has defined the history of our nation states. And it is to install an abstract conception of ‘human rights’ at every place where custom and loyalty have shaped our way of life. This false Europe is conceived as a background to the rootless and self-indulgent lifestyle of the sixties. And in order to advance that lifestyle, for which no positive argument has ever been given, its advocates hurl insults at the ordinary law-abiding citizens for whom marriage and the family, neighbourhood, custom and an inherited sense of belonging are the foundations of their way of life.

For many years I have been struck by the way in which those on whom the future of society most depends – the ‘marrying classes’ as Lytton Strachey contemptuously described them, or les salauds as Sartre put it, yet more contemptuously – are also first to be singled out as targets by the apostles of liberation. But freedom of the kind that we all enjoy is made possible by social trust, and social trust depends on a shared sense of belonging, and a shared national culture. To dismiss those things as ‘racism and xenophobia’, as is the norm among opinionated Europeans today, is to undermine the social stability on which the elites depend for their freedoms. Equally destructive has been the habit – in France especially – of dividing political postures into the ‘progressive’ and the ‘reactionary’, and thereby preparing a welcome for every innovation, however destructive, and a contemptuous dismissal for all attempts, however nuanced and reasonable, to defend what we have.

One of the most important assets that we have is the protection of free speech. In European countries differences of opinion have been not only permitted but encouraged. We are heirs to a tradition of public debate in which rational argument prevails over crowd emotions. Our opponents who defend the false Europe are entitled to do so and we expect them to work by peaceful means for their goals, opposed by our arguments but free from our abuse. But in drafting the Paris statement we were acutely aware that this tradition of public debate is no longer respected on the left. Those who defend the European inheritance are regularly sneered at or silenced, and while legitimate criticisms of Islam and its adherents are vilified as ‘Islamophobia’ and ‘hate speech’, no equivalent punishment is meted out to the critics of Christianity. The disappearance of free speech from our universities has gone hand in hand with draconian legislation enforcing invented ‘human rights’ in areas where Europeans are by no means of one mind – areas such as abortion, gay marriage, adoption, and the maintenance of religious symbols and festivals. In all these matters the culture of repudiation has seized the advantage, imposing multicultural orthodoxies in advance of the discussion and reflection of which our continent stands so greatly in need.

It is my firm belief that young people can be made aware not only that our spiritual and cultural inheritance is worth preserving but that it is the source of all the freedoms that they enjoy – including the freedom publicly to repudiate it, a freedom that Islamic civilisation has never extended to its adherents. It is my hope too that young people will begin to think clearly about the likely outcome of the repudiation to which they are being encouraged, and will come to see that the result will not be a tolerant and open society, but, in all likelihood, a condition of social fragmentation and ethnic strife. But our statement is not addressed only to the young; it is addressed also to politicians, writers, intellectuals and cultural figures who have the opportunity to give voice to the ideals that have shaped our continent, and to begin the defence of what is most precious to us all.

As Katie Harrison noted in her column earlier this week, the survey showed that more adults in Britain now identify as being of ‘no religion’ than identify as being part of any religion.  At 53%, people of ‘no religion’ now outnumber followers of all the other religions combined.  Fall-off in membership in the Church of England appears to have been especially steep with the figures showing that just 15% of adults in Britain now regard themselves as Anglicans (a steep fall from 2000 when half the population claimed to be followers of the national, established church).  Among young people the figures are even starker. In the 18-24 age bracket a mere 3% of people said that they were Anglicans, as opposed to 40% among those aged 75 or over.

The optimistic case that a believer might put on this is that young people will grow up to something like the religious affiliation of those older people. Perhaps declinists are at risk of making the same mistake that Joseph Stalin famously made in thinking that the old women in Russia’s churches would die out in time.  The mistake being that the old women are always replaced by other old women: there is a constant supply.  Yet the fall-off is now so stark, that absent a considerable religious revival in Britain, the trajectory would appear to be irreversible. It would require a considerable form of evangelism to turn that 3% into anything like a majority through the rest of those 18-24 year old’s lives[1.  Polling by ComRes for UnHerd – published last week – found that 61% of 18 to 24 year-olds wanted less Christianity in British life whilst, in stark contrast, 74% of over 65s wanted more.].

Of course for some people all of this is a subject of celebration. For others a source of great pain. But the one thing which both responses must agree on is the magnitude of the effect that such changes will have.

The principal effect is the way in which it changes the population’s view of what it is, what it is doing here and what its purposes in life might be.  Those who are positive about the change acknowledge all this with an accentuation of what they see as the throwing off of religious ‘shackles’.  Those more inclined to mourn such change note (among other things) the great break with the language of the past, including the unbridgeable gap in understanding of the literature, art and music of what had been the Western inheritance.

But what is equally important, and what both sides might be able to agree upon is that changes such as these alter the way in which we look out as well as in.  That majority of young people who have no interest in religion present a fascinating case-study. For though they may be free to understand themselves better than ever, they may find it harder than any of their ancestors to understand the world.  To be religious, or even just to be brought up within religion is at the very least to imbibe a degree of religious literacy.  Youth is the best chance that religious literacy – like all other kinds – has of getting to us, or we to it.

Everybody has their own examples of the story I am about to tell.  Some will have many of them. But one of the most striking conversations I have had over the last year was with a very brilliant film-maker now in middle age. He knew that I had written about terrorist groups a lot and chose to question me in a spirit of genuine inquiry.  “What do ISIS actually want?” he asked.  Somewhat startled that he didn’t know, I politely told him that they appeared to want was to invite the world to Islam, engage in a great battle that would herald the end-times and from there achieve paradise.

My conversation partner looked at me as though I was some variety of maniac and then replied, “Well that’s impossible”.  I conceded that it was remarkable but not that it was implausible. And I restated their aims again.  After which I was told, “That may be what they say but what do they really want?” I tried again in various forms before we eventually agreed that we appeared to be talking different languages. Some of us have had this experience many times by now.

If I had told the undoubtedly intelligent person with whom I was conversing that ISIS were going to continue to do what they were doing until such a time as coalition forces moved out of Afghanistan then we would have understood each other and the group in question. Had I said that ISIS’s main pre-occupation was to campaign for greater environmental awareness in the Arabian peninsula, or a fairer taxation-scheme across the region then this would also have been easy enough for us to discuss and analyse. Their aims were utterly alien to him, however, not just in their outlandishness and undesirability but in their foundations and that even taking them at their word was impossible for him.

Why should anyone wish to die?  What kind of cause would regard death as an end in itself?  These and many other questions could be answered or understood at any time in history by almost any variety of believer. To the modern secular mindset, however, the world of religious faith appears so impossible to appreciate that it cannot even be taken especially seriously. The religiously untutored mindset looks out at the world and wonders why that world does not come from the same point of view as it does, often concluding that it probably does, but just doesn’t know it yet.

This mistake – this category error – may yet prove to be one of the most striking consequences of the era of non-faith. We may believe our direction of travel to be the inevitable one but what if it is not?  Indeed what if this withdrawing roar is the prelude to a far greater returning roar?  The religious mind – however reluctant – can consider this, anticipate it and even prevent it.  It is only the untutored, inevitable secularist who considers any such talk impossible. At least for now.

Churches… are… closing. Or, where they are determined not to close but can’t sustain a sizeable congregation, they are grouped together with others and served by one clergy member across three or four churches – especially in rural areas where beautiful 12th century church buildings are sometimes used primarily for weddings with perhaps a monthly service to keep things ticking over.

That’s the story we often hear. But there are other stories too. The recently retired Bishop of London Richard Chartres was in post for more than 20 years (1995 until earlier this year) and not only refused to close a church in his patch, but introduced a programme of ‘church planting’: starting new churches in areas where church attendance is low.

According to the British Social Attitudes survey, 22% of adults in Britain say they attend a religious service at least monthly – as do 39% of adults in Northern Ireland (please see tables at the bottom of this article). There is not a comprehensive list or credible statistic to calculate the total number of places of worship, not least because of their immense variety. Many new groups of worshippers begin by meeting in someone’s home or by renting a hall in a school and may not have a dedicated building for many years. According to the new Jewish Policy Research report on Synagogues in Britain, this is how Jewish worshipping communities have originated, as have many charismatic churches. Mosques are not always clearly visible from the street, if they are using a former disused building. At least not until Fridays when the line of people walking towards the place of worship indicates its purpose.

A communal gathering place remains part of millions of people’s religious practice, and draws in people from the local community and beyond in various ways:

Help in times of crisis: My UnHerd colleague Jonathan Aitken described the ways people from synagogues, mosques and churches leapt into action to help people evacuated from the dreadful fire at Grenfell Tower. Whether it’s churches sheltering terrified people fleeing rape and violence in Central African Republic, or mosques housing widows and children who fear attacks in Kashmir, some of the world’s most vulnerable people have found refuge in places of worship.

Solving local problems: According to the 2016 Cinnamon Network Faith Action Audit which collected evidence from 3,007 faith groups in the UK, each of those groups provided on average eight social action projects, managed 66 volunteers and had 1,696 interactions with people who needed help. Debt advice centres, parenting classes, lunch clubs for elderly people, youthwork, jobfinding schemes, and business start-up opportunities are offered in thousands of religious buildings around the UK. Cinnamon Network say their data suggests that this could equate to £3 billion worth of support for some of this country’s vulnerable people.

Our history and heritage: Our ComRes research for National Churches Trust earlier this year found that 83% of adults in Britain agree that the UK’s churches, chapels and meeting houses are an important part of our heritage and history. And, while Visit England’s latest statistics demonstrate a drop in tourist visits to some cathedrals which some people attribute to increased entry fees, it is still the case the millions of people each year visit or worship in a historic church building. There are some interesting surprises in our religious history. To find out what Charles Dickens had to say about the Mormons (yes, they were around in his time), call in to the Latter Day Saints visitor centre in London.

Awe and wonder: Styles of worship across all religions vary, and each has its denominations based on doctrine, worship and sometimes demographic[1.  Denominations are present in all major religions and most minority religions. For example, chapter 2 of the recent Jewish Policy Research report into synagogue attendance in the UK carries a helpful list and analysis of the Jewish denominations in this country]. According to a new website to help people find a local Choral Evensong service, we’re flocking back to liturgical church services to hear choral music. Our research into use of six local case-study Church of England cathedrals for think tank Theos found that 92% of respondents said that their cathedral was a place where people can get in touch with the spiritual or the sacred.

LOOK AT THIS!

• Some of the world’s most beautiful places of worship – my favourite is the Taktsang Palphug Monastery in Bhutan
• The Guardian asked readers to send in photographs of empty places of worship
• Some of these before-and-after pictures of devastation in Syria include historically significant mosques

FURTHER BACKGROUND

…ON CHURCH ATTENDANCE

We downloaded data from the British Social Attitudes survey which showed responses to question about attendance at religious services;

Data supplied to us by the Life and Times survey in Northern Ireland;