In her traditional Christmas message this week, the Bishop of London, Sarah Mullally, turned to a much-loved work by the 19th-century American poet Emily Dickinson. In “Hope” Is the Thing With Feathers, Dickinson imagines hope as a small bird that “perches in the soul”, never ceasing to sing and sounding sweetest in the eye of life’s storms. As Dame Sarah says, the metaphor is a beautiful one that can both console and inspire.
Christian tradition has long seen hope as a virtue to be practised, theologically grounded in the narrative of Jesus’s birth in Bethlehem and the redemptive meaning of his life and death. In Britain and across the west, Christmas is, of course, a mainly secularised affair these days. But as much of the world prepares to spend time with family and friends, the cultivation of a kind of committed faith in the future seems particularly needed in what are undeniably dark times.
The ongoing wars in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, Myanmar and elsewhere are the most dreadful and shocking manifestations of a world that has become significantly less stable and more divided, and one where democratic values are increasingly contested. Next year promises to be pivotal, as more than two billion people vote in a record number of elections. In all, a total of 50 countries will elect new governments. Polls taking place in the United States and India, and to elect a new European parliament, will be crucial in determining whether a global drift to more illiberal forms of politics continues. This year, the Swedish V-Dem research institute estimated that 72% of the world’s population now live in autocracies – an increase from 46% 10 years ago.
The re-election of a vengeful Donald Trump to a second term would severely deepen this global democratic recession – effectively completing the work of the January 6 insurrection – and gravely imperil America’s political system. A seemingly likely third victory for Narendra Modi in India would further weaken institutions there, too, and would be dire news for the country’s 200 million-strong Muslim population. The rightwing Hindu nationalism he has pursued and promoted in almost a decade as prime minister has seen them subjected to growing intimidation, bullying and discrimination. In Europe, nationalist parties of the radical right hope that victory for Geert Wilders’s xenophobic agenda in the recent Dutch election presages a similar surge in support in May’s European elections. In Russia, an election which is not remotely free or fair will rubber-stamp Vladimir Putin’s dictatorial powers.
The rising influence of an insular, authoritarian politics, and a diminishing regard for universal rights and the position of minorities, is nevertheless being challenged from the bottom up. The work of the three British charities that the Guardian is supporting this Christmas – all committed to combating the consequences of the government’s cruel and punitive asylum policies – is just one example of such a spirit of hopeful resistance.
A modern American writer and activist, Rebecca Solnit, has located hope in the “spaciousness of uncertainty” which invites and demands that we act in the here and now with generosity and optimism. Her book Hope in the Dark reminds us that, far from being merely wishful thinking, hope is a vital ethical disposition. Ahead of a deeply challenging 12 months, that seems like a good message to take into the Christmas break.
