'He wants to change society, bring about world peace, save the planet, and bring about respect for diversity.' Photo: Book cover for Confessions Of A Non-Violent Revolutionary
Confessions Of A Non-Violent Revolutionary by Chris Savory
Author: Chris Savory. Review by Harvey Gillman
This autobiography was written by a peace activist who for a number of years was a Friend. It is an easy-to-read, intriguing and racy record of a resonant journey. I learned a lot about someone with whom I was acquainted but didn’t know at any depth. Particularly striking was its voyage through idealism, disillusion, and the yet-remaining conviction that the struggle is not lost. I did have questions about the focus of the book – the way details sometimes got in the way of reflection – but it gave a sense of life lived and experimented with.
Chris Savory conveys a sense of mission. He wants to change society, bring about world peace, save the planet, and bring about respect for diversity. At the same time he is well aware of his limitations. His search takes him to places he did not expect, and takes a toll on his health. It is this earnest search, with a good dose of self-awareness, that makes for a lively read.
I was particularly taken with the parallels between early Quakerism and the individual search. The first Friends were filled with an almost-apocalyptic revolutionary fervour, and yet after a generation or so there was a cooling off when the world was not turned upside down. The movement became an institution, a process sometimes referred to as the institutionalism of charisma. After many periods of religious revival there is a turning inwards, when the evangelistic flame flickers out. Heaven is not found on earth, so alternatives are sought: intense spirituality, hedonism, sectarianism. Sometimes there is weariness or indifference.
I have been wondering how progressive forces would react to recent elections, the rise of populism, and the economic, psychological and environmental consequences of the pandemic. It does strike me that the story of the planet, both in its political and spiritual aspects, could be a uniting force – a source of liturgy and social transformation. Yet there is the danger of cynicism, and of the enormity of the task leading to a feeling of impotence. There is danger in giving up the struggle!
The book ends in 2019, before the lockdown. In the epilogue he refers to his joining the Extinction Rebellion protests. He considers that most of the people there were not born in 1986 when he joined the blockade of the Molesworth cruise missile base. ‘I feel a gulf between myself and the young protesters. I’m actually a bit jealous of their smooth youthful faces, shining with hope and righteousness.’ These poignant reflections make him question his present life after years and years of struggle. ‘I am not ready to sit down for hours or be removed by the police. But I am able to identify myself as a rebel and show solidarity for an hour or two. It turns out that it is not so easy to extinguish that flame of hope. As the crisis deepens, I know which side I am on.’ It would almost be a cliché to quote George Fox but Chris Savory formulates his famous question slightly differently. After all these years, what canst thou still say?
