That is the reason for the launch today of Accord, a new coalition making the case make the case that every state school in Britain should be open to all, irrespective of differences in belief and background; that schools should be places where those whose paths might not otherwise cross learn how to listen to one another, learn together, value one another and build a common future together.

Accord is in some respects an unlikely coalition. In addition to a teaching union, a religious think-tank and a humanist organisation, its backers include secularists and Hindus, Christians and Jews, people of various faith backgrounds and none.

It counts amongst its individual supporters both philosopher AC Grayling, whose views on religion are trenchantly critical, and Christopher Rowland, who holds the major British university chair in biblical interpretation at the University of Oxford.

This diversity will increase in the coming weeks. It represents a growing awareness, backed up by a number of opinion polls, that if, as the government categorically says, “faith schools are here to stay” (Children’s minister, Kevin Brennan), then the regulations that currently guide them need changing in order to bring them into line with an overall schooling policy based on building bridges rather than barriers in local communities.

In particular, Accord is calling for non-discrimination in admissions and employment, a balanced curriculum, a common inspection regime and assemblies that reflect the whole community (rather than being based on compulsory worship).

The immediate response has indeed been denial, but in an interestingly contradictory way. The Faith Schools’ Providers Group, a network representing the interests of state-funded Church of England and Catholic schools (the great majority) plus Methodist, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh and Hindu organisations, says that their schools do not discriminate and that they have “signed up to a shared vision for promoting community cohesion through schools with a religious character.”

On the other hand, Independent on Sunday columnist Melanie MacDonagh championed them by saying that discrimination is “what makes a faith school a faith school”! What she is referring to, and what the Faith Schools’ Providers are coyly sidestepping, is the reality that they are allowed by law to select pupils and staff on grounds of belief. Of course this does not happen in every case, and there are some notable examples of good practice among religiously sponsored schools. But that does not alter the fact that it happens in far too many cases – and this in schools which are overwhelmingly funded by the general taxpayer.

Accord is not a campaign that divides people into religious and non-religious boxes. Instead it is seeks to unite them, building a consensus for fairness focussed on practice and policy, rather than ‘pro’ or ‘anti’ faith schools ideology.

At present, the government seems inclined to interpret every concern expressed about faith schools as an expression of hostility, and every proposal for change as a threat to its intentions towards diversity.

Over time, the aim of the Accord coalition is to show that it is a positive vision of community schooling, not the defence of outmoded restrictions for the few, which points the real way forward in education.

You can support Accord here.

(Editor’s note: Sunny is also a signatory)

I’m much more sceptical about Obama than many people I know (including many around here). In practice, I don’t think he’ll be as progressive as is wished or assumed, nor Clinton as regressive as her campaign has sometimes sounded. Andrew Stephen in the New Statesman is right:

Don’t be misled by skin-colour, gender, cleverly crafted images, or oratory: he or she will still be a machine politician who has never actually run anything, and who is beholden to vested interests. Dig beneath the excitement of this campaign, therefore, and the prospects for America and the world are not as exhilarating as they might at first seem. Plus ça change…

It’s deeply disappointing that the tussle has been overtly ‘racialised’ (and, much less noticed by the media and observers, ‘genderised‘) in recent weeks. Religious panning and pandering has also entered the picture in some crude and undesirable ways.

There’s a goodly amount of ‘new deal’ hope invested in Obama, a longing for a change of direction in the drift of American policy internationally and in terms of domestic divisions. I can well sympathise with that. But optimism is not a good political barometer. And much though I dislike the elevation of winning over other issues, I’m unconvinced that Obama has the experience to defeat McCain – which is, after all, the point of the exercise if you’re pinning your dreams on him.

Forget recent opinion polls, they’ll look very different when the real campaign gets underway. With the Republicans portraying him as a dangerous liberal, endless repetition of those Rev Jeremiah Wright clips (excellently analysed by Sunny Hundal), an unconvinced industrial heartland, and the the religious right adjusting themselves to the new context (as they will), the idea that Obama will evade the ‘Hillary haters’ who would otherwise not vote seems very questionable.

Tim Hames may well prove right overall:

Clinton is the 5347 option and Obama is the 5542 one. By this I mean that it is tough to imagine her obtaining more than 53 per cent of the national vote against John McCain, but it is hard to envisage her falling below 47 per cent either. Most of those Democrats who prefer Mr Obama to her (African-Americans, affluent whites, the young) would nevertheless back the New York senator in November [...]

Mr Obama, by contrast, has a somewhat higher vote ceiling but a much lower floor to his vote. If Americans decide that they are desperate for “change”, pure and simple, then he is a better vehicle for that mood than a woman who has the history of the 1990s attached to her. If, though, voters are after “change (with reassurance)”, as one suspects is the case, then she is a smarter bet against Mr McCain. A sizeable slice of working-class Democrats who back her may switch to the Arizona Senator if she loses. In the worst-case scenario, the Republican champion may well wipe the floor with Mr Obama.

Today a firm Barack enthusiast told me she’s so disgusted with Hillary’s campaign, she would prefer to see McCain in the White House than her. That may prove to be a rash and dangerous wish.

Then again, the candidates and their publicity machines haven’t treated us to a feast of sophisticated argument or a panoply of significant fact.

The Lib Dems, as usual, pile on leaflets implying that they are “winning here”, “neck-and-neck” there, and “almost home” everywhere. The Tories try to steal a national opinion poll march on good community politicians by refusing to use their names and referring to them as “Gordon Brown’s candidate”. The Greens are virtually absent. Apart from Labour’s ‘home rule’ team, that leaves UKIP (enough said) and our local exoticism, the continuing Liberal Party.

What of Gordon’s crew? They are not covering themselves in glory by putting out an attack leaflet accusing anybody who questions their ferocious attachment to a unitary city authority as wanting a “closing down sale” for democracy, seeking to “betray the City”, “wipe Exeter from the political map of Devon” and “threaten 800 years of civic history”.

Just in case that’s not clear, Labour offer a timeline for the destruction of our dear county-town-writ-large, complete with the Norman siege, the Perkin Warbeck rebellion, the Nazi blitz… and the Liberal Democrats and Tories favouring different local government configurations. Do they really think voters are that crudely suggestible? Apparently so.

The actual issue is, dare we say, rather more complex and ambiguous. Labour-controlled Exeter City Council’s last unitary bid was knocked back on grounds of sustainability by the Department for Communities and Local Government in December 2007, and a boundary consultation will now take place in the summer with a decision to be made by 31 December.

Meanwhile, Devon County Council and Torbay and Plymouth councils have put forward proposals that will see the two urban conurbations widen their boundaries to absorb neighbouring towns and villages, while the rest of Devon is governed by one huge authority. The county council proposes to replace 62 county and 337 district councillors with 100 unitary councillors.

There are all kinds of objections to any and all of this, ranging from gerrymandering to navel gazing, to expense, to disproportion, to problems with viable multilevel service delivery. Many see other issues as more important and wonder if there isn’t a case for the status quo.

None of the childish nonsense pouring through our letterboxes helps people address these issues, or many other concerns really. To a lot of potential voters it looks like so much blame shift, generalised claims to greenness or virtue, and attempts to skew statistics for sectional advantage. Which, frankly, it is.

Several thoughtful people I’ve talked to say they are “past knowing or caring” and find it difficult to get enthusiastic about local democracy when its protagonists behave like this. It’s very sad.

In 1998 there was an all-time low local poll turnout of 28 per cent. In elections since then there has been an upswing, but there is little sign that the Local Government Association’s worthy campaign to encourage participation among 46 million registered voters has got through to those on the unimaginative and confrontational front line. Whatever happens today, something much more radical is needed.

OK, now we can all get back to being on tenterhooks about the outcome of the London Mayoral election and the Democratic primaries.

The place was as ethnically unmixed as the southwest can be, and draped in red and white crossed flags. When one of Barca’s black players was fouled early in the second half, a man wearing a St George hat duly yelled, “What’s wrong with that? First the ball, then the nigger!”

There were general giggles of amusement, and to my shame I decided against marching across the room and verbally jousting with half the bar. I try to challenge racism whenever I can. But the atmosphere around that remark was more than casually threatening.

Now it would be ludicrous to blame this kind of thing on St George’s Day. But it would be equally daft to claim that the two are wholly disconnected. In recent years the red and white flag has been somewhat prized away from the far right, numerically anyway. However the ‘little Englanderism’ associated with it has not gone. Mainly because it has not been sufficiently challenged by a better, more convincing narrative.

But there are murmurings of change. In the Catholic Cathedral of St George in Southwark this week (and through to 3 May), you will find a painting of the ‘dragon slayer’ in very different guise – holding a dead soldier, and in mourning. Artist Scott Norwood-Witts, certainly no stereotypical leftie, says he was inspired not just by loss of life among the armed services abroad, but by the common misrepresentation of St George as a crusader.

Ekklesia pointed out in our report last year (When the saints go marching out) that the earliest traditions concerning this historically obscure figure are that he was a high-ranking official who converted to Christianity, set aside his weapons, went to challenge the Roman Emperor Diocletian over his policy of persecuting minorities, and was executed as a result.

As activist Peter Tatchell argues, in a way that makes him an early human rights campaigner, and as Ekklesia has suggested, a figure of courageous dissent. What’s more, he was most likely Turkish, and his image rights are claimed not just by the English but by a host of other nations and principalities – including Catalonia, Portugal, Beirut, Moscow, Istanbul, Germany and Greece.

St George is ripe for reclaiming in a host of visually, figuratively and politically creative ways. Not negatively, but positively. Not as part of an arcane debate abut ‘Englishness’, but as an embodiment of something different. Not in the name of narrow nationalism or imperial nostalgia, but of people seeking to celebrate the international and truly hospitable dimension of their inheritance.

Next year, I hope a range of very different people (maybe including you) will come together to do just that. We need banners, songs, slogans, artwork, events and campaigns that link St George to the other side of our history – where troublemaking, fun, thoughtfulness, protest, hope and new possibility lie.

Of course, the tabloids will hate it. Their vision is rooted in resentment, loss and exclusion. Richard Littlejohn had an offended (and poorly researched) pop at me in the Daily Mail last year, when Ekklesia’s proposal that 23 April be deemed a ‘National day of Dissent’ got syndicated. But his arguments were typically defensive and threadbare.

Any country’s legend and history is bound to be deeply contested. Rather than whingeing that reactionaries have all the best symbolism, let’s retell the story ourselves – with the people as true protagonists, rather than victims of capricious narrow-mindedness. But for goodness’ sake, let’s not be too worthy and po-faced about it.

Mine’s a pint of Martyr’s Ale, thanks.

Ideas or comments on ‘re-claiming St George’ are welcome.

Particularly disappointing was Brian Paddick, God’s new lieutenant. Alternating between ineffectually smug and an unconvincingly macho, he didn’t use his central position on the podium to evince authority or offer anything new. Instead he sounded rather like the school rich kid trying to brag about how clever and decent he is. Embarrassing.

Ken made a direct play for Lib Dem second preferences, claiming he agreed with them on 90 per cent of issues and citing his own past support for Ed Davey. Pluralism or panic? Paddick (revealing that we gravitate to his second name, huh?) then accused him of telling people how to vote and claimed that he and Boris were equally bad.

Um, candidates are inherently in the business of soliciting votes, Brian (if I may). That’s what electoral politics is about. And if you really don’t think London would be any worse off under Boris Johnson than Ken Livingstone, well you shouldn’t be running a shoebox, let alone a metropolis. That said, your fragile 9 per cent could be vital.

Even Lib Dem Voice lacks much confidence in the life of Brian. Hammersmith & Fulham Lib Dem Youth & Students’ chair Leo Watkins commented last night: “[H]e talks in terms of vague generalities, and only really marks himself out when he starts poking fun at the other two.”

“The thing that strikes me most,” Watkins went on “…is that Ken Livingstone has an incredible mastery of the facts, of quotes of his opponents, of past events and so on. Additionally, he looks relaxed, confident and spontaneous.”

As for Boris Johnson, well it’s hardly any news that he is a complete buffoon, but his performance was shockingly bad. Tory or not, how anyone can consider backing him (other than as a childish prank or a cipher for the return of county squire politics) is astonishing. The final questioner of the evening noted that he couldn’t even figure out how to answer a question without getting into a mental scramble. But he fluffed that one, too.

I don’t have a vote in the mayoral race, as my residency in London is occasional and temporary. But I sure hope the tactical psephologists can work their magic.

Sunny adds: Checkout Votematch London if you haven’t already!

It works like this. The PM’s meeja minders come up with a ‘new media’ communication wheeze which isn’t really that new at all. Then old media journos wake up in time simultaneously to pronounce it a desperate piece of wannabe PR (because the spinners are doing it) and the latest thing in cool (because, hey, we’ve finally caught up!).

This morning, BBC Radio 4 duly pronounced Twitter the new black – or the new skinny frappucino with wings to go, as we digerati types like to call it. Apparently. What followed was an effervescent but mostly content-free ‘investigative report’ by affable technology correspondent Rory Cellan-Jones, saying that Facebook is so last year and everyone who’s anyone is now merrily Twittering away, though without much idea why.

In reality (if we dare call it that), the Twitter low-down is pretty simple. As a social networking tool it’s potentially a bit sad: the digital equivalent of celebrity shopping-spree texting. As an information tool, it can be quite helpful provided you know how to use and ration it. Like anything else, really.

If you’re a hack looking for a different angle on a story suffering from saturation coverage (such as Gordon Brown in America), subscribing to a Twitter might just give you an angle or a tiny snippet of info with which to meet the next deadline. Or it might make you feel like you’re ‘in the zone’ when in reality (that invidious concept again) you’re absolutely not – a harmless ego rush.

On the other hand, if you’re a campaigner, Twitter can be a bit more practical. During the recent Burma protests, a group of informed Twitters emerged who had some in situ contacts (unlike many reporters) and who were also monitoring both mainstream and specialist news outlets. The feed was updated regularly and proved very useful, with links to websites where more substantial data was being posted. It enabled people to target their solidarity actions and respond to actual developments on the ground at a time when the military junta was attempting a news blackout.

Meanwhile, the Today programme’s take on Twitter-type technology as a political tool veered between non-existent to a top-down one based on Downing Street scratching its backside and everyone else feeling an urge to itch pointlessly. There’s a bit more to it than that. But like all communications technology it depends on the resourcefulness and imagination of its users.

This year, however, the bundle has been much more political. It was kicked off by Cardinal Keith O’Brien’s gaudy intervention in the debate about the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill, specifically the careful provisions for admixed embryos for time limited research purposes aimed at tackling a range of life-threatening diseases.

With the government currently agonising over how to frame the Commons vote on this Bill, and specifically whether and how to allow for ‘conscience’ in the process, the Cardinal and his allies no doubt think that they are winning. But this would be a serious miscalculation.

I tend towards thinking that a free vote might be best, at least on some provisions, but if the PM changes the procedure he had previously specified under overt religious pressure, that will only increase the anger and determination of those who want to resist what they will see as the Catholic Church trying to run parliament.

Likewise, if the argument is that ethical and scientific questions about cellular research ought to transcend politics, well the Cardinal has succeeded only in politicising and polarising them further.

In the process, he has got the intention and reality of the science wrong, used outrageously alarmist language, treated some MPs as if they are ‘his’ troops in a war, assumed that all Christians and people of goodwill should share his view (they don’t), and behaved as if controversial matters can be solved by big institutions throwing their weight around.

My objection to all this is that it is precisely the wrong way for religion to engage politics. Of course, there will many who will talk about keeping the two spheres entirely separate. But that’s far too simplistic.

‘Keep religion out of politics’ begs a much better question. Namely, what kind of religion and what kind of politics? Apartheid South Africa wanted to keep Desmond Tutu out of politics. The Burmese dictatorship wants Buddhist monks kept out of politics. China wants the Dalai Lama kept out of politics – and Tibet.

In each of those instances, and in the case of liberation theology, persons of religious conviction have been working with people, not against them or in collusion with state. That will be broadly welcomed by everyone of good will, religious or not. Unless they are on the side of the powerful, the unaccountably rich or the downright oppressive, of course.

At Easter some of us recall that Jesus directly challenged overbearing religion allied to the state and got killed for it. According to the narrative Christians seek to live by, he was vindicated by the gift of life, not by the manipulations of power politics.

This message has long been subsumed by a Church that did a deal with Imperial power in the shape of Constantine. But in its origins, and in the many subversive strands that have survived throughout history, the Gospel is about levelling not domination. The proper place of the church shaped by the story of Jesus is therefore alongside people not bearing down upon them from on high.

In other words, there is a powerful argument from within the tradition against its abuse, as well as an argument stemming from democratic polity about the proper separation of religious institutions from government (with which I correspondingly agree).

I don’t want a monochrome society where people are stereotyped either by religious or by non-religious labels, or where people try to coerce each other into believing or not believing. I want a plural society in which there is space for the opinion and public involvement of all, but not for the arbitrary or unfair dominance of any one interest group, religious or non-religious.

Politics, including democratic politics, is frequently about manipulation. Christian politics, the think tank I co-direct argues, should be about persuasion and partnership. This is a far cry from the approach taken by some church leaders. Which is why it is right that they should be challenged and made to feel uncomfortable, not least by those of us who they would otherwise want to count as ‘their own’.