Abstract
There could not be a worse time, one might think, for publishing a biography of George Bell. Not long ago, in October 2015, the news broke about allegations that Bell had sexually abused a child in the 1940s and 1950s. It is true that concerns have since been voiced about the way the Church of England has handled the issue (see www.georgebellgroup.org), which have led to an Independent Review being announced. Yet Bell’s reputation is severely damaged, perhaps forever.
But perhaps that is why we need this biography more than ever: whether or not the allegations will be substantiated, it would be easy to forget those deeds for which Bell has rightly been revered. Andrew Chandler, Reader in Modern History at the University of Chichester, is to be commended for keeping that story alive as well. Chandler wrote his Cambridge PhD thesis on the Church of England and Nazi Germany between 1933 and 1945—a topic almost synonymous with the life of the Bishop of Chichester. Chandler does not, however, allow historical erudition to get in the way of his main purpose: to draw a fresh picture of Bell for a broad contemporary audience. Instead of aiming for the definitive biography, he has chosen a shorter book that allows “space for a more personal reflection” (xi). And the modest size certainly helps in keeping the book accessible, with twelve concise chapters guiding us through the (eventful) stages of Bell’s public life.
Those not familiar with the story may marvel at how this cleric was drawn into the high political drama of the 1930s and 1940s. The tale of the secret meeting in 1942 between Bell and his friend Dietrich Bonhoeffer—when it seemed just possible that they would establish a line of communication between the British government and the German resistance—is and remains breathtaking. Bell was not afraid to challenge public opinion or official policy. In the late 1930s, when the general mood was still in favor of appeasement, he repeatedly beat the drum in The Times about the Nazi oppression of the Confessing Church in Germany (and embarrassed the German authorities keen to maintain a respectable image abroad). Yet when war eventually broke out, and Britain’s resources and sentiments were harnessed for a total war, Bell could appear to be on the enemy’s side—for example in 1944 by speaking out in the House of Lords (where, as Bishop of Chichester, he had a seat) against Britain’s policy of carpet-bombing German cities. In his own eyes, of course, Bell’s campaigns had been entirely consistent: he had always sought to defend “the other Germany,” whether against Nazi terror or against (what he considered) Britain’s misguided war aims.
Those already familiar with the facts will appreciate how Chandler also encourages us to make a realistic assessment of Bell’s frantic activity—the countless letters, meetings, speeches, conferences, and motions. Did they have any real impact on political affairs? “This was not a world governed by archbishops or pastors” (73). And nowhere in the book is this borne out more clearly than in Chandler’s account of Bell’s 1944 speech in the Lords, where we learn quite how ill-judged the speech was deemed by his audience, including by Bell’s sympathizers. And yet we shouldn’t forget, as Chandler also reminds us, that for those living under dictatorship abroad, the news of a bishop freely articulating his concerns in parliament was a tremendous encouragement.
If Bell was largely ineffectual in his efforts to influence the war effort, he surely achieved much more in ecumenical circles. Bell played a pivotal role in the development of the movement that would culminate, in 1948, in the foundation of the World Council of Churches. Indeed, as Chandler points out, there was common ground and cross-fertilization between the Council and the newly established United Nations. Yet even here the sense of failure is never far away: “As an ecumenist Bell left no inheritor” (173). It is difficult not to agree: churches and denominations today seem often more interested in staying true to their identity than unity in the Truth. Equally unpopular today, in Bell’s own country not least, is the cause of European cooperation—for Bell, hardly separable from the ecumenism.
The story of Bell’s public life, then, is not so much an account of his achievements as a continuing challenge to us—about the kind of international politics we want, and about our priorities in church life. Those willing to face such questions will find Chandler’s book very stimulating indeed.