Sarah Mullally

She's built more than one career on breaking barriers, but being the next archbishop of Canterbury will present some hellish challenges, says Andrew Anthony

- Andrew Anthony

The job of archbishop of Canterbury shares some key characteristics with that of prime minister: they both involve leadership over an entity that has seen better days and is riven by polarising forces, they both lack popular support, and they both appear to be mired in bureaucracy and indecision.

The archiepiscopal advantage is that, once in the post, there isn't an election to face; and while God is rumoured to be omniscient, no one blames His Anglican mouthpiece for the state of the economy. Aside from that, Sarah Mullally, who was named in October as Justin Welby's successor, faces a challenging time.

To be the first female archbishop of Canterbury in the post’s 1,400-year history presents obvious difficulties in a church that remains divided over whether women should be allowed to be priests - about 600 parishes in England, and much of the Anglican communion in Africa, do not accept women leaders. Questions of gay recognition and rights are even more schismatic.

On top of that, there’s the long-term trend of falling church attendance figures, with Sunday services dropping from 908,900 in 2010 to 582,000 last year, and opaque governance that lends itself to stasis, intrigue and paranoia.

There are also the continuing accusations of sexual abuse and the church’s response, which caused Welby to be ousted, and from which Mullally has not been immune. Finally, she must deal with the deep-seated tensions between conservative evangelists and Anglo-Catholics on one side, and progressive liberals and the evangelical tendency on the other.

Even the Right Rev Guli Francis-Dehqani, who had been favourite to lead the church after Welby’s resignation in November 2024, last month called the job “impossible” with “inhumane” expectations.