At the heart of Anglicanism lies a terrible dilemma. Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, as the commission exploring the possibility of unity between the two traditions reminds us, the Anglican Communion is not a single Church demanding adherence to a disciplined codex of canon law. It is a fellowship of 38 provinces, each with its own prayer book, traditions and legal structure, bound together only by bonds of trust and fellowship. When any one of those provinces takes a step considered by others to be morally or theologically unacceptable, there is no legal or institutional method for dealing with the breach. Tolerance and compromise — loving or begrudging — are the only way that the communion can be preserved. The alternative is schism.

The communion now stands on the brink of schism. The pretext, which has racked the Church for more than a decade, is the split over ordaining gay priests. But the issue now goes far deeper. It has become a test of whether the Episcopal Church, the small but influential American branch of Anglicanism, has broken the bonds of fellowship with other churches, especially the conservative African and Asian provinces in the “Global South”, in ordaining a homosexual bishop. After agonising debate, an extraordinary conference in Windsor in 2004 decided that the Episcopal Church had indeed broken these bonds and should apologise. The Americans have since done so — but in terms that appear to many conservatives to be insouciant.

Primates from 35 provinces have gathered at a summit in Tanzania to decide two crucial issues. Are they willing to accept a report by four senior Anglicans (plus the Archbishop of Canterbury) concluding that the Americans have shown sufficient repentance?

And does the Anglican Communion now need a new covenant? This would be a common body of theological principles, which, hopefully, would avoid future agonising disputes over belief and practice, and rein in provinces such as the Episcopal Church that appear to have abandoned much of what many other Anglicans regard as central to their faith.

Both issues are hugely divisive. Many conservatives do not accept that the Americans have shown proper contrition, and remain eager to force them out. In particular, they do not want them invited to next year’s Lambeth Conference. But the Global South, and many evangelicals in the Church of England, do want a covenant that they think will bind dogma closer to biblical text and prevent liberals interpreting Anglicanism in ways that conservatives see as perverse.

For its part, the Episcopal Church sees no reason to be constricted by the beliefs of arch-conservatives such as Archbishop Peter Akinola of Nigeria, and is unwilling to be bound by a narrow and narrow-minded covenant.

For all the noisy threats of schism, however, neither side wants to be deemed responsible for initiating a divorce. The Global South, angry though it is, has enormous respect for Canterbury, and would feel great isolation by taking a separate path. The Americans, for their part, are keen still to attend Lambeth next year. Middle-of-the-road Anglicans, especially in the Church of England, are loath to choose. The result may be another Anglican fudge. For now, the fudge remains edible, but it has again left a bitter taste.