A key national political figure was speaking from the pulpit of an African-American church in Columbia, S.C., recently, and offered the following comment: “In this house of the Lord, we know that the power rests in God’s hands and in Jesus’ hands for helping us.” This same figure said the power of government is “not as important or as strong as the power of Jesus.”
So, any guesses? I’ll give you a few hints — it wasn’t George W. Bush or John Ashcroft. It also wasn’t Al Sharpton of Jesse Jackson.
It was Howard Dean.
In response to multiple media reports, such as the cover story of this week’s New Republic, Dean is on the defensive about his religious beliefs, or if you believe published reports, his lack thereof.
TNR’s Franklin Foer, for example, described Dean this week as “one of the most secular candidates to run for president in modern history.” Foer’s article noted:
Dean himself is frank on this point, perhaps too frank. “[I] don’t go to church very often,” the Episcopalian-turned-Congregationalist remarked in a debate last month. “My religion doesn’t inform my public policy.” When Dean talks about organized religion, it is often in a negative context. “I don’t want to listen to the fundamentalist preachers anymore,” he shouted at the California Democratic Convention in March. And, when he discusses spirituality, it is generally divorced from any mention of God or church. “We are not cogs in a corporate machine,” he preached last month in Iowa. “We are human, spiritual beings who deserve better consideration as human beings than we’re getting from this administration.”
I’ll get into Foer’s thesis in more detail next week, but I noticed yesterday that Dean is already responding to this concern, apparently convinced that it is a legitimate political liability in a country that seems to seek political leaders who take religion seriously.
The Boston Globe, for example, interviewed Dean on this point recently and said Dean “described himself…as a committed believer in Jesus Christ and said he expects to increasingly include references to Jesus and God in his speeches as he stumps in the South.” The Globe report added that “Dean said that Jesus was an important influence in his life and that he would probably share with some voters the model Jesus has served for him.”
Specifically, Dean characterized Jesus as a figure who has helped shape his approach to government and politics.
“Christ was someone who sought out people who were disenfranchised, people who were left behind,” Dean said. “He fought against self-righteousness of people who had everything…. He was a person who set an extraordinary example that has lasted 2,000 years, which is pretty inspiring when you think about it.”
Dean told the Globe that he’s kept his religious beliefs private while campaigning in New Hampshire, where such matters are rarely put on public display, but pledged to “discuss his beliefs more openly” in the South.
Politically, this strikes me as a wise approach. But ethically, Dean’s “I’ll speak piously, but only in the South” strategy is problematic for two reasons.
First, one of the few things I’ve respected about Dean was his stated belief that his message was his message — and he wouldn’t change it for different audiences. Dean always promised to give the same stump speech in Iowa that he gave in South Carolina because his campaign was about the nation’s problems. People in Columbia, S.C., Dean has said, want the same thing that people in Concord, N.H., want: good schools, access to quality health care, clear air and water, etc.
Dean now appears to be abandoning this approach altogether. He says he doesn’t talk about religion in New Hampshire because that’s the tradition there. He says he’ll talk about Jesus in South Carolina because it’s likely to play better in the South. This sounds exactly like the calculating politician Dean always promised never to be. What ever happened to the guy who swore to speak his mind, no matter what, and let the chips fall where they may?
As a matter of principle, if Dean genuinely feels compelled to talk about his faith in general, and Jesus in specific, in his political speeches, it’s dishonest of him to hide this from audiences outside the South. That’s what makes straight-talking candidates straight-talking. By that same principle, if Dean believes such matters are private and that religiosity shouldn’t be a campaign issue, he should say so, whether he’s in the South or anywhere else.
Second, as a practical matter, I’m not sure if Dean can make the transition from secular yankee to devout moderate so easily. As Amy Sullivan said this week, when it comes to presidential candidates and religious rhetoric, “The guy at the top of the ticket can’t fake it — people see that a mile away.”
I think that’s true. The question essentially becomes whether Dean’s “Jesus talk” will be seen as sincere or exploitative. For a candidate who has avoided religious references, doesn’t go to church, and bolted from his denomination over a debate regarding a bike path, I think working God into his campaign may be a lot harder than Dean seems to believe.