Attack of the Theocrats!: How the Religious Right Harms Us All—and What We Can Do About It

by Faircloth, Sean

  8 Secularism—Born Again

  God will wash this nation with blood if he has to.

  —Glenn Beck

  I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman church, by the Greek church, by the Turkish church, by the Protestant church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.

  —Thomas Paine

  The struggle between fundamentalism (the world of Jerry Falwell, Joyce Meyer, and Joel Osteen) on the one hand and the Jeffersonian Enlightenment ideal on the other constitutes a central issue affecting the future of our nation. Because America remains the most powerful and influential nation on Earth, protecting our secular values is essential to the future progress of civilization across the globe. If we organize, if we invest our effort and money, and if we are willing to think strategically, I am confident of a success that will benefit America and the entire world.

  As much as I respect the logistical and organizational strength of American fundamentalism, its day is passing. As the book American Grace points out, although Evangelical Protestantism, from a demographics standpoint, grew in the 1970s and 1980s, it began to lose momentum around 1990. Even so, its institutional and political strength remains huge in our two-party system.

  The subservience to fundamentalist ideology by the Republican Party reached a high point with President George W. Bush—and, as evidenced by the U.S. Congress, it risks rising higher still. Whether you are or ever were a member of the Republican Party, it’s difficult to imagine Barry Goldwater or Gerald Ford referencing the Book of Revelations in specific connection with military policy. President Bush did so when discussing Iraq with French president Jacques Chirac.

  To have secured effective veto power over one of two major political parties in the United States represents a monumental success for religious fundamentalists. Their success has even caused Democratic politicians to feel pressure to wear their religion on their sleeves. In short, demographic stagnation notwithstanding—fundamentalist power remains as strong as it’s ever been.

  There are valid disagreements on economic issues between the Democratic and Republican Party. And we should not neglect the ideas espoused by the Libertarian Party, which today speaks for some traditional Republican values. But make no mistake: never before in American history have proponents of a particular religious viewpoint—and a minority viewpoint at that—secured such a potentially decisive role in our ostensibly secular Republic.

  Fundamentalists have for years been fighting above their weight class. Their veto power over the Republican Party leads to the perception that the fundamentalist extremists constitute 50 percent of the American people. In fact, they represent about 24 percent of Americans at most. This bootstrapping of political influence has certainly affected politics and perception, but it has also affected policy. The political realities today are profoundly different from those of 1960, when secular policy was largely a matter of consensus. Jack Kennedy was almost uniformly applauded for his speech in Houston favoring church-state separation, and Richard Nixon avoided direct criticism of Kennedy’s speech for fear of a backlash (though his fundamentalist allies spoke ill of Kennedy’s speech). One can only imagine the litany of pejoratives that the Republican Party would throw at that speech if delivered today. Indeed, Senator Rick Santorum and former governor Sarah Palin have both reached back five decades to condemn Kennedy’s Houston speech.

  Theocratic laws permeate our statute books. The Republican Party, by any measure, is strong, not weak. They are extremely well funded and well organized. Someday the Republican Party may return to the more libertarian roots of a Barry Goldwater. That is, however, not happening soon, especially not without a counterforce.

  Secular Americans must work so that our political clout matches our numbers. Data vary, but look at the percentage of Americans from a recent poll who take a science-based view of the world or do not affiliate with a religion, by age group:

  7 percent of those 65 and over

  13 percent of those ages 50–64

  18 percent of those ages 30–49

  25 percent of those under 30

  As a whole, the “nones” (people who report no religious affiliation) shot up dramatically from 7 percent of Americans in 1990 to 17 percent today. Considering the number of secular Jews, secular Catholics, and secular liberal Protestants who may for cultural reasons identify themselves by their religious heritage, it’s clear that the number of Americans who care about secular values is vastly undercounted.

  This underreporting is not the result of some conspiracy, but the result of polling questions that are just not phrased to get the most accurate result. To some degree, Secular Americans also face an almost unconscious cultural bias, including from people who bear Secular Americans no ill will or who may even be Secular Americans themselves.

  To collect better data, better polling questions are necessary. For example, assume you’ve agreed to participate in a poll and are asked this series of questions:

  Do you think fundamentalist Christians have too much influence in America today?

  Do you tend to agree or disagree with those who think the government should restrict choices about one’s sexual life based on their interpretation of the Bible?

  Do you believe Zodiac signs can in fact predict personality traits or predict the future? Or do you think they are just for fun?

  Do you value scientific reasoning over supernatural explanations for the world around us?

  Do you think the Earth was created a few thousand years ago as told in the Bible or do you believe that the Earth is billions of years old as scientists conclude?

  Do you think that one must accept Christ as one’s personal savior in order to have eternal life?

  Do you think that a child born in Hindu culture who dies without having accepted Christ will go to hell?

  Do you accept the conclusion of scientists that human beings evolved over hundreds of thousands of years? Or do you believe that humans were created as told in the Bible?

  Do you believe the creation stories of the Druids? Or the creation stories of Australian Aborigines? Do you believe in the creation stories of any non-Judeo-Christian religions?

  Do you believe that Jesus in fact rose from the dead?

  Do you believe that Jesus was in fact born of a virgin?

  Are you uncertain about whether there is life after death?

  Do you have doubts about whether hell exists?

  Do you have doubts about whether heaven exists?

  Do you believe that if someone prays for rain, it will increase the likelihood of rain?

  Do you tend to believe that if someone prays to live longer or prays to ward off disease, a God will intervene on behalf of that one person and not on behalf of others who do not pray?

  Do you sometimes question, if only to yourself, whether there is a God?

  Do you have a question in your mind about the morality of an all-powerful God that could allow 9/11, the Haiti disaster, the Kennedy assassination, the Japanese tsunami, the Tucson shooting, and the Holocaust?

  Do you think there is an actual devil?

  Do you think that a God makes decisions about what will happen to you personally?

  These questions are mere examples. Many expressly religious people would no doubt agree with a nontheist’s answers to several of these questions. This series of questions gives the person answering time—time to think about what they really think.

  There is no doubt that millions upon millions of Americans strongly assert their belief that the Bible is literally true. Indeed, far more Americans assert this than do citizens of most any other nation—thus, our challenge. And yet, many Americans, if they took their time with questions like those posed here, would feel comfortable answering that, yes, really, in their heart of hearts, they are uncertain about the existence of God, of life after death, of heaven, and of the efficacy of prayer.

  At a minimum, this would make them agnostic—meaning they claim no
certainty about God’s existence or matters such as Christ’s actual divinity. And many, if they honestly thought about such questions, might even say that they lack belief in a god or gods. I can’t say what that percentage of the population might be. But I’ll guarantee you this: that percentage is far, far higher than the number of people who will say flat-out yes to the following question, which almost shouts off the page:

  ARE YOU NOW OR HAVE YOU EVER BEEN AN ATHEIST?

  Yes, of course, none of the polls ever use the McCarthy-era phrase, “Are you now or have you ever been…?” Yet the word “atheist” is loaded with dark historical connotations related to the era of “godless” Communism. Speaking as a happy capitalist myself—and a lifelong believer in the scientific method—there is something about the word atheist that calls to mind Joseph Stalin. And darn it, I don’t like Joe Stalin! I don’t like his moustache, I don’t like his economics, I don’t like that he killed millions of people. I want nothing—zero—to do with that guy. Many people blanch at the word atheist because of these associations. (In truth, Stalin created what amounted to his own religion and was treated, by his own design, as a form of deity that is always watching. Stalin even had the secret police at his disposal to make the “always watching” possibility monstrously credible.)

  So the word atheist is laden with cultural and historical connotations, rendering the word jarring to most people despite the fact that all these connotations have little to do with the simple definition of the word. Also, there’s a perception, perhaps in certain instances justified, that some activist atheists seek to attack people as stupid rather than to criticize policies and ideas as harmful.

  The word itself is unrelated to all these perceptions. Brad Pitt is an atheist because he happens to not believe in a god or gods. This does not diminish in any way all the charitable work he does. Indeed, because Pitt focuses on helping people in the here and now, Pitt’s worldview may enhance his proven charitable ethic. Also, the label “atheist” and the seemingly more cuddly label “agnostic” need not be mutually exclusive. An agnostic atheist would simply be someone who lacks belief in a god or gods but who also claims no certainty informing their lack of belief.

  In our quick focus on labels, though, what’s most important is often forgotten: respect and caring for people as people. My parents divorced when I was little, so I had the benefit of two mothers. My stepmom, Marilyn, came from a fundamentalist background, accepted and welcomed people of all stripes, and treated them with kindness and respect. And she treated me as her own son from day one. Agree or disagree with the church of her youth, time and again she taught me to be kindhearted and accepting of other people. I’ve always called her mom and she set an admirable example.

  Sometimes I’m not sure Secular Americans follow that welcoming approach as well as we should. Even if you disagree with someone, you can joke, talk, be friends, and have a beer with them—and, most importantly, avoid personal vitriol. And, if you want to persuade someone, build that personal connection before whacking them over the head with our oh-so-important issues. My mom’s example can be valuable, indeed ennobling. If we take this approach, and remain consciously positive and helpful like my mom, maybe the perception of words like atheist will change.

  Despite the often unfair stereotypes, the number of Secular Americans, according to all measures, is on the rise, particularly among the young. My focus is on policy not on labels, and I think the term agnostic is entirely comfortable and welcoming to many people. Although agnostics sometimes get no respect from theists and atheists alike, the good-old agnostic is simply saying that, with no absolute proof, I’m going to make no assumptions. More importantly, they are Secular Americans—people who, in their daily lives, expect nothing supernatural will intervene for or against them. It’s all up to us. It’s called personal responsibility.

  Some might argue (okay, I might argue) that Eleanor Roosevelt was the greatest woman in the history of the world, and certainly a person widely and justifiably admired. Far more Americans than are currently counted in any poll as agnostic will agree with Eleanor Roosevelt when she said, “I don’t know whether I believe in a future life.” She went on to say, “You have to accept whatever comes, and the only thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give.”

  Once we get behind the facades and the wish not to offend, there are legions of patriotic, good Americans who think just as Eleanor Roosevelt did regarding life’s ultimate questions. Whether they embrace the label or not, these many millions are Secular Americans. They make decisions based on the realities of our world. From the perspective of Americans who think like Eleanor Roosevelt, the possibility that there’s some supernatural being somewhere running the show is not relevant to how they live their lives day by day.

  Many religious labels are more cultural than a reflection of theology. There are millions of Americans, most of whom would never label themselves atheist—indeed, who might well label themselves Catholic or Jewish or Protestant or Muslim—who, as a practical matter, think an Abrahamic God intervening in our daily lives is as likely to be true as the myth of Thor—that is, they think the odds are vanishingly close to nil.

  Those who do the analyzing, even when they are of good will, are sometimes implicitly biased against Secular Americans. For example, the book American Grace provides a valuable survey of America’s diverse religious landscape since the mid-twentieth century. Yet the authors, at one point, refer to the “nones” (people who don’t affiliate with a religion) as “extreme.” They contrast the “nones” with old-line Protestantism and Catholicism, labeling those denominations moderate. If you ask most people, they will label themselves as moderate (“It’s that other guy who’s extreme!”). And, thus, if something is labeled as extreme, then people tend to shy away from whatever is so labeled.

  I fully accept that the term “extreme” should be used when warranted by evidence, but, say what you will, Bill Gates and Warren Buffet are anything but extreme. These brilliant business leaders lack a God belief. Yet, they are thoughtful, charitable, and quintessentially moderate. The only thing extreme about them is that extreme smarts and extreme hard work led them to becoming extremely successful. Their moral values are as mainstream and American as apple pie.

  The idea that people who take a scientific world view and have no God belief are “extreme”—or, to quote Lennon, “carryin’ pictures of Chairman Mao”—is a baseless stereotype. This notion is completely unrelated to what modern Secular Americans think.

  As a politician in Maine, I earned support the old-fashioned way by visiting my neighbors and campaigning door to door—thousands upon thousands of doors. Through direct observation I saw that, except among fundamentalists, church attendance decreased significantly over my decade in office. My fellow Bangor residents were good people who cared about our local schools and about local charities. These very people, when I campaigned on Sunday morning, were increasingly cultivating their gardens, spending time with their families—and not going to church.

  I observed this trend through another lens as well. Notwithstanding my opinions regarding some church policies, I love churches, and I admire the beauty of Bangor’s lovely St. John’s Catholic Church. (I love synagogues too and, though I’ve not spent much time in mosques, I’m sure I’d find them just as fascinating). My love for religious architecture stemmed in part from a course I took at Notre Dame, in which the professor instilled an appreciation of the creativity and craft that went into building the great cathedrals of centuries past. It also stemmed from a wonderful book titled Pillars of the Earth. What greater opportunity was there in 1400 to contribute to something of timeless beauty and collaborative will? I know—“They built those European cathedrals on the backs of peasants.” Fair point, but the beauty stands. In Maine, low-income Catholics willingly contributed to the building of St. John’s. And yet, I could see that religious services were becoming almost archaic, something one might tip a hat to at Christmas, E
aster, or Passover out of respect for older relatives, but not really something that was truly part of one’s daily life—and this trend made the people of Bangor no less honest or caring.

  As the data makes clear, young people are increasingly secular, and they are as bright and idealistic as any generation I’ve seen, but they have taken the example of their parents’ generation even more to heart and are attending religious services even less frequently than their parents did. Even with the underreporting of Secular Americans, the growth of secularism is dramatic. This growth will continue with each passing generation. To paraphrase Mick Jagger, time is on our side. Secular America is on the rise. We must now press our advantage strategically. If we simply gloat about growing demographics, we will fail.

  If we pursue an intelligent strategic plan, we will succeed, and America will flourish as it was designed—as a secular, constitutional Republic—as a nation that offers protections and benefits to both those who believe in the inerrancy of ancient texts and those who embrace Enlightenment values.

  9 Our Secular Decade

  A Strategic Plan

  I think it’s time for us to just hand it over to God and say, “God, You’re going to have to fix this.” . . . I think it’s time for us to use our wisdom and our influence and really put it in God’s hands. That’s what I’m going to do, and I hope you’ll join me.

  —Rick Perry

  The great decisions of government cannot be dictated by the concerns of religious factions. . . . We have succeeded for 205 years in keeping the affairs of state separate from the uncompromising idealism of religious groups and we mustn’t stop now. To retreat from that separation would violate the principles of conservatism and the values upon which the framers built this democratic republic.

  —Barry Goldwater

  If you’re like me, you’ve often heard a particular Margaret Mead quote from friends on the Left, or at least noticed it on a poster taped to the office wall of a liberal nonprofit: “Never doubt that a small group of committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” And yet, if there’s one group to whom this quote very aptly applies, it’s the so-called Religious Right. In the late 1960s they looked at America, and the fundamentalists did not like what they saw: women defying the roles mandated by the Bible; gay activists rearing their “perverted” heads to fight for rights in violation of biblical law; and civil rights groups successfully fighting against biblically “commanded” segregation.