THE Lib Dem MP for Kingston & Surbiton, Ed Davey, announced on Twitter on April 25 that he was preparing for his “first ever fast in the holy month of Ramadan.” The reason was to show that “Muslims doing Ramadan in isolation” were not alone.

The accompanying video explained that in the evening there would be a Lib Dem Iftar where they would share a virtual community meal together. He finished by telling his audience “Ramadan Mubarak.”

He later added that he would be raising money from this for the Kingston Foodbank as the hashtag #LibDemIftar went into use among fellow Lib Dems.

One participant was Ian Manning, Lib Dem Cambridgeshire county councillor for Chesterton. Manning tweeted that he was up early for the #LibDemIftar and surprisingly added a picture of four eggs and a few rashers of lightly cooked bacon.

It was soon pointed out to him that bacon might not be an appropriate way of showing solidarity with Muslims. Suitably chastised, Manning responded, as a true liberal on Twitter might, that this was a learning process.

So, what’s going on here?

No doubt some Lib Dems mean what they say, and I don’t doubt the sincerity of Manning in wanting to raise funds for Cambridge foodbank or that some Muslim colleagues were grateful.

But there is something about this that’s unsurprisingly…liberal.

Engaging with a part of something thought to be “good” religion without any awareness of culturally unusual details is a classic liberal take on religion and multiculturalism in mainstream politics.

Typically, centrist politicians from the three main parties in England are accepting of religion as long as religion is assumed to be vague, loving, peaceful, kind, liberal, tolerant and unthreatening. Nothing too weird should be discussed.

In this world, it is annual festivals — that hallmark of religion in the public sphere — where politicians can express such sentiments to, and on behalf of, a given religious tradition. “True” religion is thought to be a bit like “us” but with wholesome additions of sacred candles, mystical chants, mysterious foreign words, endearing hats and spiritual fasts.

This is not an understanding of religion which looks at alien details of legal traditions, technicalities of theological debates or intricacies of exegesis of sacred texts. Religion instead functions much as an Afghan rug might in a well-to-do liberal household—something ethnic enough to show that the owners aren’t racist but without any illiberal cultural baggage.

When religion goes wrong, it is assumed to be illiberal and weird. This assumption about a deviation from “true” religion is not only used in mainstream liberal politics to attack conservative views on sexuality, terrorist acts, or the religious or far right.

Also integral to this thinking is that the left and anti-capitalist critique can be tainted by association with anything critical of the liberal capitalist mainstream. We only need recall how Jeremy Corbyn and his supporters were regularly denounced in the language of “cult,” “sect,” “apocalyptic,” “fundamentalist” and so on, people who did not respect the so-called “broad church.”

The Lib Dem act of solidarity was obviously directed at Muslims. But are not such liberal gestures meant at least as much for a different audience? As good Twitter centrists, Davey and Manning naturally flag up their pro-EU sympathies on their profiles.

In their world of people’s marches, Waitrose-fuelled protesting and “Follow Back, Pro-EU” hashtags (#FBPE), this is also a feel-good signal to fellow travellers. We Lib Dems are the do-gooders who care for marginalised groups!

This is, of course, a vacuous gesture of solidarity. It is not solidarity based on class interests — this is Ed Davey, after all — nor an attempt to do anything substantive to try and change the world.

Obviously, there is nothing dishonourable about foodbank donations but there are reasons why such charity is needed. Davey was in the coalition government that contributed significantly to the rise in foodbanks and no amount of liberal posturing should be allowed to hide that.

Put another way, the sentiment is as shallow as the oil in which Manning’s bacon was fried.

James Crossley is Professor of Religion and Politics and author of Cults, Martyrs and Good Samaritans: Religion in Contemporary English Political Discourse (Pluto, 2018).