News
A Long, Dark Night for the Religious Right
Washington Outlook, Business Week
Until recently, Tinky Winky – one of the stars of the wildly popular
Teletubbies kids' TV show – symbolized nothing more than the triumph of
silliness. Now, the amorphous purple space-munchkin has come to signify
something else: trying times for the Religious Right.
Christian conservatives suffered a shattering defeat in the impeachment
trial of President Clinton. The mercurial Reverend Pat Robertson has been
forced to reclaim the presidency of the Christian Coalition after a lengthy
hiatus. And Reverend Jerry Falwell's decision to attack Tinky as a sexually
ambiguous advocate of the gay lifestyle drew coast-to-coast snickers.
Many conservative Christians still can't accept the fact that two-thirds of
Americans think Clinton committed perjury in covering up the Lewinsky affair –
but want him to stay on the job by the same margin. "Our people are
disgusted that Clinton got off," says Jim Berberich, executive director of
the Missouri Christian Coalition. "Someday people are going to find out that
being a conservative Christian is not equivalent to wearing a scarlet
letter."
STANDOFFISH. Scarred by the impeachment fiasco, some Hill GOP leaders are
rushing to distance themselves from religious activists faster than you can
say: "Get thee behind me." House Speaker J. Dennis Hastert (R-Ill.) pledges
accommodation with Democrats, while working to keep anti-abortion riders off
of appropriations bills. And many grassroots officials say that the only way
to erase the GOP's dreadful disapproval ratings is to shelve all the
moralizing in favor of more engaging issues such as tax cuts, education
reforms, and a leaner government.
Christian groups' absolutism "scares the hell out of voters in the
middle" of the political spectrum, says independent pollster John Zogby. New
Jersey Governor Christine Whitman told a recent GOP leadership conference in
Miami: "We have got to get away from the perception that all we care about is
whether or not Teletubbies are gay."
How are Christian conservatives reacting to such challenges? According to
Morton C. Blackwell, a Virginia-based religious activist and Republican
National Committee member, a top priority will be "working to get House
[impeachment] managers reelected." Democrats have targeted many of them for
defeat in 2000.
Beyond that, the Christian Coalition will soon roll out a legislative
agenda that blends secular planks (ending the marriage penalty, promoting
school choice, backing a Star Wars antimissile system) with calls for a ban on
late-term abortions, parental consent for teens seeking abortions, and moves
to combat religious persecution overseas. "Our issues are in the center of
public opinion," says Randy Tate, the coalition's executive director. "I
don't see how running away from our agenda helps Republican prospects."
But there's trouble ahead. The Religious Right shows no signs of unifying
behind Dan Quayle, Steve Forbes, or any other socially conservative GOP
Presidential contender. Meanwhile, semi-spiritual Texas Governor George W.
Bush soars. "It's a time of adversity," sighs one religious activist, "but
maybe that will energize people to get involved in our cause." After all,
miracles do happen.