Een collega wees op een artikel dat op 30 april 2013 in de Britse krant The Guardian verscheen. Het belicht het fenomeen van gemengde vrijmetselarij of 'Co-Masonry', waarbij mannen en vrouwen samen tijdens dezelfde zitting dezelfde ritualen beleven. Wereldwijd is de belangrijkste vertegenwoordiger van gemengde vrijmetselarij de Internationale Vrijmetselaarsorde Le Droit Humain. In eigen land is de Belgische Federatie de op een na grootste Obediëntie, na het masculine Grootoosten, en goed voor een kleine 7000 leden. In Nederland stelt DH, met nog geen 20 werkplaatsen, in verhouding bijna niets voor en ook in Groot-Brittannië zijn er maar een 300-tal leden. Het hele artikel volgt hieronder:
On a leafy street in the
London suburb of Surbiton, a big white sign welcomes visitors to a masonic
lodge for "men and women". The lodge is an imposing Edwardian
mansion, down the stairs of which comes a white-haired man offering his hand to
shake, which is a bit hurried on a cold, wintry morning, but not particularly
funny.
Julian Rees is a member
of the International Order of Co-Freemasonry and he is keen to disprove
the sense that it is a secret men-only society. The visit to Surbiton
was arranged by a press officer after I called the rules on allowing
women to join "complicated". Offering to carry my bag before he
proffers a cup of tea, Rees explains that his order has welcomed women since
its formation by feminist and socialist Annie Besant in 1892. Women
now make up more than half of the Co-Freemasons estimated in the UK today.
Yet, as we climb the
hexagonal staircase of the British HQ, filled with symbols and pictures of
elaborately dressed masons, the presence of women doesn't detract from some of
the bigger questions about the freemasonry, such as why a publicist is arranging
meetings with a society best known for its secrecy. The answer lies in the fact
that freemasonry in this country is in something of a crisis.
Apart from the important
difference of the inclusion of women, the International Order of
Co-Freemasonry, with talk of rituals, symbols and "the Craft", is
identical to the better-known United Grand Lodge of England (UGLE) to the
unitiated eye. And both are suffering from a declining and ageing membership
base.
Although official
numbers are hard to come by, most estimates suggest that there are some 6
million freemasons in the world and just over 300,000 in the UK. In comparison,
300 men and women belong to the UK arm of the Co-Freemasons. At its peak in the
1950s, there were five times as many Co-Freemasons, a rate of decline that many
believe is echoed in the main branch.
At its postwar peak,
membership of a fraternity that began as a sort of union for medieval
stonemasons was boosted by returning armed service personnel as well as some of
the most powerful men in the land. George VI, who died in 1952, is the last
British king to be listed on the official UGLE website, which also
includes Winston Churchill, an Archbishop of Canterbury and a surprisingly long
list of celebrities from Nat King Cole to Peter Sellers. The royal connection
continues today with the Duke of Kent, who is the current grand
master of the UGLE.
Freemasons have long
denied suggestions that it is a pernicious old boys' network, arguing that it
is a sort of gentleman's club, concerned with moral and spiritual growth.
Although in the UK the sense that freemasons are no longer the force they once
were has given rise to jokes about suburban middle managers prone to rolling up
their trouser legs and doing funny handshakes, there are signs elsewhere that
membership confers preferment. The collapse of Propaganda Due or P2, an
order that linked Silvio Berlusconi to the Italian central bank and the heads
of all three secret services until it was closed down in the 1980s, did little
to end suspicions.
Given this double whammy
of conspiracy and mockery, it is no surprise that all parts of the fraternity
are looking for a rebrand. Or the fact that Co-Freemasons want to
disassociate themselves from the main branch, employ a PR company and launch a "recruitment
drive" specifically aimed at attracting younger women.
Brian Roberts, a retired
businessman who works "eight days a week" as the British grand
commander, says that, by meeting the requirements of the Equalities Act at
least, Co-Freemasonry "fits with the current age". With membership
fees of £90 a year it is also "cheaper than most golf clubs". But
everyone knows why you join golf clubs. Why would anyone want to become a
freemason?
A morning spent talking
to four master masons makes an organisation that members still call a
fraternity sound like church without the hymns. But Rees says, "It's
dangerous to associate it with religion. We accept people with any or no
religion. We follow a religious path outside religion." Some masons are
atheists, he says, although they have to sign up to meetings which pray to a
spiritual being, which seems a bit odd.
There has been a long
and often bitter history of mistrust between organised religion and
freemasonry. At its most benign it led to a spat between freemasons
and the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, when he suggested
their beliefs were incompatible with Christianity. He then got into trouble
for appointing a freemason to be bishop, thereby proving many avenues
are open to freemasons but still closed to women.
But there are obvious
similarities in the way adherents speak about their beliefs. Nikki Roberts,
Brian's 31-year-old granddaughter, is held up as an example of the new kind of
freemason with her Facebook page and media-friendly ways. Having dabbled in
Buddhism, she gave up her job in the City before finding "stability"
in Co-Freemasonry. She says the order adds "greater meaning" to her
life.
But what about the signs
and funny handshakes? These are apparently only used "if you need to prove
yourself and you don't have your passport", says Rees. A passport?
Disappointingly, it looks just like an aged travelcard with weird stamps
inside.
In trying to explain
freemasonry, Sandra Clarke, a businesswoman who comes up for the lodge's eight
annual meetings from her home in the Cotswolds, says: "At the lowest
individual level it's about practising the essentials of freemasonry every day.
In that way freemasonry is no different from any other organisation with the
added initiatory aspect and spiritual context." This secret initiation –
of which little is known apart from the fact that new members are blindfolded –
tends to arouse suspicions among outsiders. "It's not about hiding the
location," says Rees. "It's so that he can look inward."
If somewhat vague on why
people become freemasons, those I spoke to are clear on why they shouldn't.
"If anybody wants to join to use it to gain preferential treatment in
business they have completely the wrong idea," says Roberts. "It is a
total myth." Clarke adds, "We would turn away people looking for
personal material gain of some kind."
Turning people away
seems to conflict with the idea of a recruitment drive that is drumming up
business with a website, Facebook and Twitter accounts. Basically,
anyone over the age of 18 can join, but not everyone is accepted. Why?
"Trust us, a lot of
people do come along whom we subsequently find not to be suitable," says
Roberts. "They have the wrong perspective, the wrong idea about who we
are."
What makes someone
"suitable"? Clarke says "It's not necessarily one particular
thing, it's more we don't resonate with each other. They may have other ethos
and values. They might be better off in a church, say. Or a business
network." The others talk of making an "emotional, moral commitment"
by commiting to the standards expected of freemasons, whatever they are.
"We don't think we're better than other people," says Clarke,
"but we do think we can make ourselves better."
Many freemasons such as
Nikki grew up with family members in the fraternity, which also underlines the
sense of freemasonry being an all-white club. Rees protests, describing
"half" his central London lodge as "non-Caucasian".
Rees, who defected from
the all-male side because of an argument over its lack of
"spirituality", is also keen to stress that the differences go much
further than the fact that the bigger male-only arm also has a much grander HQ
in London's West End.
"The male order,
much as they may deny it, is all about wearing more and more elaborate regalia
and advancing to a higher rank. Male masonry is peopled by old grey beards, the
aristocracy, major generals of the army, and they're nearly all male
chauvinists."
Perhaps this
differentiation is working. Since the recruitment drive launched last November
the freemasons report growing interest in membership – mostly from women.
With the website and
Facebook pages, freemasonry no longer seems as secret as it did. But why anyone
– male or female – would want to join is still unclear.
(© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or
its affiliated companies. All rights reserved.)
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