Michael Ramsey, Archbishop of Canterbury in the 1960s and early 1970s, would start his day by banging his head against his desk three times while chanting: ‘I hate the Church of England, I hate the Church of England, I hate the Church of England.’ Similar thoughts must surely have passed through the mind of Justin Welby at some point during the 11 years he’s been in the job. Since he was enthroned in 2013, the Church’s many divisions have worsened, most notably over women bishops, gay marriage and, in recent years, immigration policy. Given the fractured state of the C of E – not to mention the wider Anglican Communion – Archbishop of Canterbury looks like a role you’d only take if you enjoyed the constant sensation of hitting your head against a brick wall, not a desk.

Welby’s office at Lambeth Palace bears no visible signs of head-banging. Instead, he seems grimly amused by the way Conservative politicians have turned against him. When he was appointed, the assumption among many Tories was that Welby – an Old Etonian and a former oil executive – was one of them. It hasn’t really worked out that way. Welby has criticised benefit reforms, zero-hours contracts, the tax system, a ‘broken’ economic model and the government’s immigration policy. He is one of the major critics of the Safety of Rwanda Bill, arguing in the House of Lords that the deportation policy is ‘immoral and cruel’. Conservative MPs have variously accused him of sounding as if he’s a Labour campaigner, of meddling in politics when he should be worrying about falling church attendance, and of ‘preaching from the pulpit’.

‘There’s a lot of what the government says which I entirely agree with… We must limit access to our borders’

This last comment particularly amused Welby. It came from the Tory backbencher Jonathan Gullis in 2022. ‘I don’t think un-elected bishops in the House of Lords should be preaching about politics,’ he said. ‘I sadly think that there are too many people using the pulpit to preach from.’ He was upset that 25 senior bishops, including Welby, had written a letter opposing the Rwanda deportation plan. Welby responded in a tweet: ‘Always grateful for feedback – look forward to advice on what we should be doing in the pulpit.’ He’s still chuckling about it when we meet. But he adds with seriousness: ‘It goes so far in history, basically goes back to Thomas Becket. Don’t be political means be political, but not in a way I don’t like.’

He isn’t surprised that he has been accused of being political, but he bristles at the idea that the bishops in the House of Lords are always on the left. ‘There’s not a bishop whip.’ Doesn’t he think that overall, though, the bishops offer a rather left-wing opposition to government policies: benefits aren’t generous enough, taxes are too easy to dodge, immigration policies are too cruel? ‘It varies. If you go back to the Blair government, and look, for instance, at the attitude of the bishops around the invasion of Iraq, you will find absolute, almost universal dislike of that, and speaking against it. And on numerous other issues, we were as objectionable to Labour last time they were in office as we have been to the Tories this time.’

Is it his job to be objectionable? ‘No, I think our job is to do the job of the House of Lords.’ He pointed out that he voted with the government on the second reading of the Rwanda Bill because ‘it’s not our job to chuck it out’. ‘There’s a lot of what the government says which I entirely agree with,’ he adds. ‘The boats must be stopped. We must limit access to our borders: three-quarters of a million in any year seems to me to be far too many. And so we must have good border control. And we must pursue, go after the traffickers. That I totally agree with. And as I said a couple of weeks ago, we entirely agree with the evidence. We just don’t agree with the means and may well be wrong in that.

‘If I wanted to support the means I’d point to Australia and say that it’s the least bad option… that by doing this for a year or two very strictly and efficiently – query are we doing it efficiently? – we will sufficiently cut back the number of people coming, to in a sense compensate for the undoubted harm it will do to those who’ve been treated in that way. So that’s the argument I’d make on the other side. I don’t agree with it.’

The Church is caught up in the maelstrom of politics, and Welby reflects on the way MPs are subject to abuse and harassment. He suggests that while social media shows society has ‘lost [its] moral compass’, politicians need to be careful too. ‘If churches are properly salt and light they can strengthen the perceived boundaries of behaviour. I think that’s a huge challenge. More can be done legally, I’m sure it can, rigorous prosecution of threats, rigorous prosecution of abusive use of social media. Members of both Houses of Parliament being very careful about language and not accepting hate speech.’

He adds that he has ‘heard [hate speech] in the last few weeks’, clarifying that he means ‘both between members and towards the Church, by members of parliament, saying the Church is colluding with evil. And we certainly – particularly bishops who are women – have had an enormous increase over the last year or two in abusive language.’ Welby himself carries an alarm because of threats against him.

There are two years left in the job before Welby must retire, and he says he doesn’t see any reason to go before then. ‘It’s quite possible that the bishops and others will feel before then that much as we love you, we think you ought to go.’ Has he ever wanted to give up sooner? ‘Oh there are moments… Normally when you spend three days talking about the nature of human sexuality. But that’s always been the case. I wouldn’t say it’s an impossible job. But it’s a complicated job, with huge international dimensions and enormous moments of pressure. But you do have moments – I don’t have many moments – when I’ve said, “I can’t do this.”’

The long days of talking about the nature of human sexuality have dominated Welby’s tenure. Since last year, Synod voted to allow blessings for same-sex couples, though Welby has taken a ‘self-denying ordinance’ not to do these himself in order to try to preserve global Anglican unity. (His gesture may be futile: a group of 12 archbishops from the conservative Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches have declared that they no longer consider the C of E as the ‘mother church’ or Welby as the ‘first among equals’.) Conversely, the Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell, says he will conduct same-sex blessings.

The Church’s teaching, though, is that marriage is between a man and a woman. Is the C of E still just sitting on the fence? ‘We knocked down the fence years ago, as we blundered to and fro. There is no fence!’ He compares the Church’s current stalemate to the Brexit years in the Commons where there was no majority for any option for leaving the European Union: though the three houses at Synod have backed blessings for same-sex couples and an official apology to LGBT people for the way the Church has treated them in the past, these changes passed only narrowly. Any changes to canon law require a two-thirds majority. ‘In the Synod at the moment there is a majority for going forward, but not a big enough majority. It’s not what you might call a working majority.

‘And there isn’t a working majority for going backwards, there isn’t a majority for staying where we are. And so what we’re trying at the moment is a reset of the discussions. And to find a way in which everyone in the Church – no one will be happy, some people think we’ve gone too far and others think we haven’t gone far enough – but to find a way in which we can live with each other and do the main role of the Church that it’s called to and stop talking about this.’

‘It basically goes back to Thomas Becket. Don’t be political means be political but not in a way I don’t like’

Is that possible, given the strength of feeling across the Anglican Communion, particularly in the African churches? ‘I’m confident that it is… I don’t think it’s something that should split the Church, but I do think it’s a really important subject because it’s about human dignity, how we love and care for human beings. And all sides would agree with that premise. It’s really important because it’s about the right attitude to something that’s of immense importance. So it can be exasperating, but I’m not feeling that those who disagree with me are complete – you know, whatever John Major said.’

Welby knew that sexuality was ‘one of the reefs ahead’ when he became Archbishop, along with women bishops, money and church attendance. When I ask how the Church can turn the tide of abuse against public figures by being ‘salt and light’, given attendances are falling, he stops me. ‘Actually, this year they’ve gone up, and last year.’ He won’t say the trend is reversing, yet: ‘Time will tell, once we see a 20-year trend, then we’ll know. I wouldn’t say they’re looking up yet, but it’s basically going up and down. I think it’s not just about church attendance. It’s about Jesus saying we’re salt and light. Christians should be salt and light. And remember, still, if you take all churches together, not just Anglicans, there are still more people that go to church than go to football matches.’