The murmurs of disquiet have been growing in insistence for weeks, but now they have burst into the open. A clamour of voices is calling for a new leader of the Church of England who will stand up against the attacks on Christian culture. Step forward John Sentamu, the Archbishop of Canterbury-in-waiting.

The contrast between the charismatic Archbishop of York and Rowan Williams, the cerebral and prevaricating occupant of Lambeth Palace, sprang into sharp relief last week. As MPs and the public rallied to Sentamu’s withering attack on British Airways for banning an employee from openly wearing a cross at work, Williams chose to travel with BA for a meeting with Pope Benedict XVI in the Vatican.

The BA controversy, which culminated in the airline’s decision to reconsider its policy, was only the latest occasion when Williams has been accused of muddle and appeasement while Sentamu, who ranks second in the church hierarchy, offered a clear and unapologetic message of principle.

Earlier this month, the country’s first black archbishop questioned the right of Muslim women to wear the veil in public, saying it did not “conform to norms of decency”. He said: “I think in British society you can wear what you want, but you can’t expect British society to be reconfigured around you.” His comments put him at odds with Williams, who defended the right of Muslim women to wear the full veil.

Sentamu also took on the BBC, which he claimed was biased against the Church of England: “We get more knocks. They do to us what they dare not do to Muslims.”

In an impassioned critique of the “systematic erosion” of the majority faith by an “illiberal atheism”, he castigated the abandonment of traditional Christmas cards in favour of Season’s Greetings versions, the introduction of “Winterval” in the Christmas holiday period and the Royal Mail for not featuring Jesus on Christmas stamps.

With his trademark gap-toothed grin and staccato enunciation of quaint English, the Ugandan-born archbishop is credited with having an electrifying effect on faithless, post-Christian Britain. He offers the moral certainties of Africa where he learnt under Idi Amin’s cruel regime to cherish the values most of us take for granted. Hence such headlines as: “Could this man save the Church of England?”

His campaign against political correctness has addressed the shame so many educated English people feel for their culture, history and religion. He experienced no such feelings as a boy in Africa, listening to the Queen’s coronation on the radio. His family always checked their purchases for a “Made in Britain” stamp. Indeed, he has called for a proper celebration of St George’s Day.

He is married to Margaret, a Church House official, and they have two grown-up children, Grace and Geoffrey. As a guest on Desert Island Discs in 2003, his favourite records included What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong. His chosen luxury was a kitchen — cooking and music being his main interests, along with rugby and football.

Williams, hailed as a new broom on his appointment in 2002, is now perceived as an unworldly academic who ties himself in rhetorical knots while his church tears itself apart over the ordination of women and gay priests. He sounded too clever by half in John Humphrys’s recent radio series, Humphrys in Search of God, when he spoke mystically of “silent waiting on the truth, pure sitting and breathing in the presence of the question mark”.

“For God’s sake, man . . . why are you so nice?” one newspaper demanded recently. Last week the tone became harsher, when a Daily Telegraph comment piece announced, “The archbishop’s days are numbered.” It suggested that Williams, undermined by a feud with Lord Carey, his predecessor, will step down early to make way for Sentamu.

The 57-year-old former Bishop of Birmingham has certainly been attracting the limelight. His Old Testament protest about the carnage in the Middle East in August, when he pitched his tent in York Minister for a week of prayer, drew comparisons with Jesus riding a donkey as a sign of humility. Grandstanding, said his critics, yet it was an eloquent reproach to the government’s refusal to call for an immediate ceasefire in Lebanon.

In his maiden speech to the House of Lords last week, he asserted that Labour’s over-reliance on anti-terror laws could trap the public in an endless “legal spider’s web”. He also warned that “unlimited power” could corrupt political leaders.