| The
secret life of Opus Dei
Ruth
Kelly says the Catholic group's support is a private matter, but
it is surrounded by a reactionary miasma
by
Michael Walsh, January 26, 2005, The Guardian, UK
Rocco
Buttiglione, the erstwhile Italian EU commissioner, must have some
sympathy with Ruth Kelly. Instead of getting on with the job to
which Silvio Berlusconi had advanced him, he was closely questioned
by European parliamentarians about his religious beliefs. His candidature
was eventually withdrawn, and he departed to found a new Catholic
political alliance.
Now
here is Ruth Kelly, eager to get stuck into her new role as secretary
of state for education, and yet all everyone wants to know, apart
from how she copes with a cabinet rank and four small children,
is where Opus Dei fits in. If indeed she is a member. No one is
saying. She has spiritual support from them, but that is a private
matter, she told David Frost on Sunday.
Maybe,
but her answer is rather disingenuous. Opus Dei comes surrounded
by a political miasma. It was founded just before the Spanish civil
war, but came fully into being in the heady Catholic days of Franco's
cruzado. Camino (The Way), the handbook that guides the
spiritual life of Opus Dei adherents, was published in its final
version just as the civil war ended. When Opus came to prominence
in the late 1960s it was because Franco's cabinet contained a remarkably
large number of Opusdeistas - far too many for commentators to believe
it a coincidence. Senior members, including Opus's founder St. Josemaría
Escrivá de Balaguer, Marqués de Peralta, were involved
in negotiating the handover of power to the then Prince Juan Carlos,
rather than to his father, Don Juan.
Opus
members were powerful operators in 1960s Spain and again, it was
alleged, during the Aznar government. The organisation's public
persona in Spain wasn't helped by the discovery that adherents helping
to fund its remarkable growth were involved in two of that country's
major financial scandals. The sinister, secretive image was boosted
in the US when an FBI agent was convicted four years ago of spying
for the Russians. He was an Opus member, and his brother-in-law
an Opus Dei priest. The lurid picture in Dan Brown's The Da
Vinci Code, of an Opus Dei "monk" wreaking mayhem
around Europe on the instructions of his religious superior, has
only added to their curiosity value.
If
a member, Ruth Kelly would have been a typical recruit, the sort
of person targeted by the organisation as a potentially influential
member of society. They tend to recruit from the middle class, give
adherents a traditional theological education, and subject them
to an old-fashioned spiritual training - including wearing spike
bracelets, and beating oneself with a cat o'nine-tails. Given this
conservative background, it is scarcely surprising that many Opusdeistas
turn out to be supporters of rightwing regimes. Kelly, on the left
of centre, is therefore something of an exception.
Their
moral views, however, are more of a piece, and highly unlikely to
deviate from those espoused by the Vatican. And these, as Buttiglione
and US presidential contender John Kerry both found, can be something
of a handicap in public life, especially when the Vatican tells
politicians to toe the Catholic line on matters such as abortion.
From the status of women to the teaching on stem-cell research to
the recognition of same-sex unions, Pope John Paul II has resolutely
followed a path at odds with the modern world. Catholic parliamentarians
have too often to struggle between their faith and the convictions
of the vast majority of their constituents. As Aidan O'Neill QC
put it in a recent debate at Lincoln's Inn presided over by Cherie
Booth, should they attempt to enact a form of Catholic Sharia? Many
Catholics would say no, but Opus members are fiercely loyal to the
present Pope. He has not only canonised their founder, but has also
given them a new juridical structure which, they believe, fits their
particular way of life.
For
Opus is one of a kind. Within Roman Catholicism it has a unique
status as a "personal prelature", a kind of diocese without
geographical boundaries, with which all its members are associated,
but to which its full-time members belong. They are priests and
lay people. That makes it different from traditional religious orders
which are usually one or the other. Opus embraces all classes of
society, married and single, priests and lay people, men and women
- though in the last case, never the twain shall meet. The recently
constructed US HQ in New York has separate entrances for men and
women. There are even, according to the authors of The Rough
Guide to the Da Vinci Code, gender-specific parking lots.
In
this country, Opus's HQ is in Bayswater, west London. Its members
run university halls of residence and youth clubs - fertile territory
for new recruits. In the US and elsewhere there are Opus Dei schools,
hot on traditional values. But not yet in Britain. In a variant
of the postcode lottery, devout British parents have been known
to relocate to Ireland where such colleges may be found. The education
secretary says she wants more independent state schools, strong
on discipline. Her spiritual advisers may have suggestions.
·
Michael Walsh is a Catholic scholar and the author of Opus Dei:
An Investigation into the Secret Society Struggling for Power within
the Roman Catholic Church.
mjwalsh@heythrop.ac.uk
Here
is the original link to the article: http://politics.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,9115,1398731,00.html
Posted
January 28, 2005
|