DLC - Democratic Leadership Council
Democratic Leadership Council Home
Search Tips 

Support the DLC


PrintPrintable Version of this Article

Send this Article to a FriendSend this Article to a Friend


Ideas




Political Reform
Interest Groups

DLC | Blueprint Magazine | May 7, 2004
Getting Religion
By Amy Sullivan

Democrats shouldn't be scared of religion. One-half of Democratic voters attend church regularly. And their platform is a good reflection of mainstream religious values. They just need to learn better ways to talk about it.

Table of Contents

Religion is the third rail of Democratic Party politics. Seasoned political operatives who can soberly discuss the details of human rights atrocities or abortion procedures start twitching when the issue of religion enters the conversation. Congressional aides who maneuver through the world of Medicare regulations or appropriations with ease become stymied by references to faith. And hustings veterans who would never dream of running a campaign without targeting racial minorities and union members look askance when asked about outreach to religious communities.

This discomfort is understandable. What makes these Democrats most ill at ease is the perception that religion is synonymous with Republican or conservative, and the assumption that religious people -- particularly those who are involved in politics -- are all members of the Christian Coalition, that they are all intolerant, and most of all, that they are not us. They are not Democratic voters. Democrats therefore can and should, so the thinking goes, stay away from the subject of religion.

The problem with this calculation is that it is entirely wrong. Many Democrats are religious. More than one-half of Democratic voters attend church more than once a month. But until professional Democrats get over their aversion to all things religious, they will continue to suffer the political consequences.

Why is religion so strongly associated with the Republican Party in the public mind? After all, prior to the late 1960s and early 1970s, neither political party was perceived as having a particularly strong connection to religion. In addition, many conservative Christians, focused primarily on the effort of saving souls, stayed out of the realm of politics. "Preachers are not called upon to be politicians," the Rev. Jerry Falwell explained in 1965, "but soul winners. Nowhere are we commissioned to reform the externals."

When this changed -- after a series of Supreme Court cases that limited the role of religion in the public sphere -- the impact on the political world was intense. The Christian Right became a highly visible and powerful force starting with the election of Ronald Reagan. And in response, progressives backed away from religion, wary of the consequences both of commingling religion and politics and of being confused with the conservative Christian movement.

So for the past few decades, conservatives have redefined what it means to be religious, what the right values are, and what morality means. And Democrats have let them. This is, we have learned, a critical error. Staying silent has not meant that religion stays off the agenda. It has meant that conservatives have the opportunity to determine how it will become part of the agenda. That, in turn, has meant arguments over displaying the Ten Commandments, keeping the phrase "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance and allowing school prayer, instead of debates over how to care for the poor, protect God's creation, or other more substantive issues.

Most damaging of all, it has given conservatives the chance to define progressives and Democrats. By not talking about what they stand for, Democrats have left themselves open to the charge that they are anti-religion -- not just skeptical, but openly hostile to people of faith.

Staying silent and hoping that religion doesn't come up is not an option. Fortunately, figuring out how to talk about the topic when it does arise and how to bring it up in a way that fits Democratic values and priorities is. This process, however, is going to require a partywide conversion -- not of Democrats' core values or priorities, but of their attitudes. The "big tent" of the Democratic Party is going to need to become a little bit bigger to welcome people of faith.

Because Democrats come in all shapes and sizes of religious -- and non-religious -- beliefs and backgrounds, a division of labor will be essential to this task. Let's look at three kinds of Democrats: those who consider themselves non-religious; those with a distinct religious commitment; and coming from a religious background with some familiarity with the language of faith, and those who fall in between.

The first group -- those who aren't personally religious -- don't need to suddenly "get religion." They don't need to study up on the Bible and start dropping hymn lyrics into their speeches. Howard Dean's attempt to turn on a dime and suddenly profess a sense of religious commitment and devotion only served to show that voters can smell insincerity a mile away.

Instead, less- or non-religious Democrats have two tasks. The first is to simply stop saying things that alienate or offend people of faith. Again, Dean provides a cautionary tale on this point. One of the key parts of his stump speech earlier in the campaign was a lament that Southerners have for too long cast votes based on "God, guns, and gays." The phrase was catchy, the basic sentiment on-target, but the message flawed. It's hard to imagine that too many voters would support Dean on the basis of that statement, but it was easy to identify the voters he had unnecessarily alienated.

The second job for non-religious Democrats is to stop taking the bait when conservatives try to distract them with fake issues like fights over the public display of the Ten Commandments or school prayer. This is not to say that Democrats should roll over on these issues -- it's important to hold the line. But that can be done by a select group of advocates without drawing the entire party into full-fledged debates and political wars. Remember: These issues energize a small piece of the conservative electorate and make it feel like a persecuted minority while also baiting progressives into framing their opposition in terms that sound hostile to religion in general. Democrats can't afford that kind of distraction.

For the second group of Democrats -- those who come from religious backgrounds and are comfortable with the language of faith -- there is one simple duty: Unmuzzle themselves. For decades, Democratic politicians have forgotten that, as Joseph Lieberman is fond of pointing out, "It is freedom of religion, not freedom from religion." Respecting the essential principle of separating church and state need not mean that we also maintain a bright line between the worlds of religion and politics. Yet, the phrase "separation of church and state" is spouted with almost Pavlovian regularity when Democratic politicians are asked about religion as an excuse for why they can't or won't talk about their personal faith.

The recent Democratic presidential primary campaign included some signs, however, that this may be changing. By December, Wesley Clark had worked a riff into his stump speech in which he reflected on his childhood as a Baptist in Arkansas. Clark talked about the revivals held every summer and noted that, "We always knew someone who could preach a revival but who didn't live it." And then he delivered his kicker: "We have one of those in the White House right now." Similarly, John Edwards -- who was also raised in a Baptist church in the South -- handled a somewhat ridiculous question in a televised debate ("Really quick: Is God on America's side?") deftly by citing an anecdote about Abraham Lincoln. During the Civil War, Edwards said, a group of ministers visited the White House and asked Lincoln to pray with them that God was on their side. Lincoln replied that he wouldn't do that, but that he would pray that they were on God's side.

The third group of Democrats are those who are very familiar with religion, but don't yet know how to talk about it in a political context or how to relate to communities of faith. And on these points, they can learn some lessons from the Republicans, who have carved out an advantage in terms of religion.

In 2000, the Bush-Cheney campaign pursued a brilliant under-the-radar communications strategy. They arranged one-on-one interviews for Bush with publications that are targeted to religious communities, that do not get noticed at all by the mainstream press, but that go directly into the living rooms of millions of Americans.

There's no reason that Democrats can't do the same thing. Publications such as America, Sojourners, Commonweal, Christianity Today, and Christian Century reach readers on the moderate to liberal spectrum who are serious about their faith, but are also serious about the political implications of their beliefs. A Democratic candidate who gave interviews to these publications would reach an audience of religious Americans on their own level, through their own media. As the popular online magazine Beliefnet.com found last summer, however, Democrats are still not willing to open up about religion. In a revealing incident, Bob Graham's campaign press secretary mistakenly sent Beliefnet's editor-in-chief an internal campaign email, asking: "Geez not high priority... I mean is Graham prepared to talk about his spirituality/religion?" Beliefnet's attempts to interview a Democratic presidential candidate were unsuccessful until Wesley Clark entered the race.

Republicans have also worked on developing close ties to religious leaders and communities. George W. Bush's portfolio during his father's 1988 presidential campaign was to act as the liaison to the conservative Christian movement, which gave him the opportunity to cultivate relationships and build credibility within the community. On the rare occasions that Democrats have assigned campaign staff to religious outreach, their mission has been to focus on black churches. Religion is viewed merely as a way of turning out an ethnic vote -- not as an important influence in the lives of Americans of all colors. It's not only a condescending strategy, but a foolish one. Unfortunately, it reflects the mindset of Democratic campaign operatives like the national field coordinator for one of the Democratic primary candidates who told his colleagues that reaching out to religious communities was a waste of time because, "There will never be a Twelcome room' for religious people at the Democratic Convention."

Finally, Republicans know how to talk the talk. Bush's chief speechwriter, Michael Gerson, graduated from the evangelical school Wheaton College and is adept at working religious code words into speeches. These phrases go over the heads of many listeners and sound perfectly innocuous, while at the same time sending a signal to evangelical Christians that the president is one of them. In last year's State of the Union address, Bush spoke of the "wonder working power" of volunteers, which sounded simply like a nice turn of phrase. But listeners who grew up singing the hymn from which that phrase comes -- "Pow'r in the Blood" -- immediately heard the tune playing in their heads.

Democrats have not had enough speechwriters with the same kind of facility for this type of language. But they do have code words of their own. The phrase "social justice" resonates powerfully with many religious Americans without sounding explicitly Christian. In the same way, millions of evangelicals and other Christians think of their relationship to the environment as one of "stewardship," in which they are responsible for taking care of God's creation.

It's true: When it comes to religion, Republicans have a media strategy, outreach, and code words. But what they don't have is political substance that reflects their religious commitment. And that's where Democrats have an opportunity. The Democratic platform -- issues Democrats already care about -- reflects the values of many religious moderates and progressives; yet many of them have been voting with Republicans simply because they feel more welcome in that party. The dirty little Republican secret is that they rely on religious rhetoric and strategy because they have to. If they don't, Americans might notice that they're not walking the walk when it comes to policy. They're not caring for the sick, the poor, the widowed, the orphaned. They're not acting as stewards of God's green earth. They are suffering the little children, but not in the way that Jesus meant.

This is what John Kerry is referring to when he challenges listeners to remember the warning in the New Testament Book of James: "What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds?"

Religion, values, and morality are not copyrighted by the Republican Party. They belong to everyone. Democrats can and should take them back.

Amy Sullivan is a doctoral candidate in sociology at Princeton University.