Does John Edwards Condone Hate Speech?

A bit of a tempest is brewing over the strident and profanity-laced writings of John Edwards' official campaign "blogmaster," Amanda Marcotte. She joined the Edwards campaign last week, and she's already gotten a lot of attention.

At issue are Marcotte's comments on her own blog, Pandagon (http://www.pandagon.net/), which has staked out a prominent place in the left-wing blogosphere. It's pretty strong stuff; her comments about other people's faiths could well be construed as hate speech.

Questions: What, if anything, does it tell us about Edwards that he's joined up with this blogger? Is Edwards' association with a person who has written these things a legitimate issue for voters, as they wonder--among other things--whom he might appoint to high office if he's elected? If a Republican candidate teamed up with a right-wing blogger who spewed this kind of venom, how would people react? Is the mere raising of this issue a kind of underhanded censorship, a way of ruling out of bounds some kinds of opinion? Are we all just going to have to get used to a more rough-and-tumble, profane, and even hate-filled public arena in the age of the blogosphere?

ON THE CATHOLIC TEACHINGS ON BIRTH CONTROL:

Last year, Marcotte blasted the Catholic Church's position on birth control: "Q: What if Mary had taken Plan B after the Lord filled her with his hot, white, sticky Holy Spirit? A: You’d have to justify your misogyny with another ancient mythology." (Side note: Would there be a different reaction if John Edwards "blogmaster" had insulted Islam to this degree? Is it "okay" to trash Catholicism--but not Islam?)

ON THE DUKE RAPE CASE:

"I had to listen to how the poor, dear lacrosse players at Duke are being persecuted just because they held someone down and f***** her against her will--not rape, of course, because the charges have been thrown out. Can't a few white boys sexually assault a black woman anymore without people getting all wound up about it? So unfair."

ON REPUBLICAN VOTERS:

“Voters who are motivated by misogyny, homophobia, and racism aren’t going to leave a racist, misogynist, homophobic party for one that is all those things but just less so.”

ON CHRISTIAN SUPPORTERS OF ISRAEL:

"...on top of the usual motivations behind Christian Zionism—hatred for Muslims, a desire to bring the end of the world, political opportunism and a chance for ministers to make their congregations feel like they are a part of something dramatic and important so their pocketbooks fall opeN..."

ON NASCAR:

“There’s no real reason that NASCAR has to have a political edge to it, much less be some weird symbol of Southern male white supremacy and yet through careful Republican marketing, it has become just that.”

ON THE CRUCIFIXION, FUNDAMENTALIST CHRISTIANS, AND TORTURE

"The paradox was this—how can anybody look at the figure of Christ on the cross and think that’s anything but a condemnation of torture? For the thinking person, it clearly is. But for the fundamentalist, that image creates anxiety about death and makes them cling to their hierarchical values even more, and those values include the belief that Muslims are inferior, not-saved, and eligible for torture. They’re going to hell anyway, by the fundie logic, and why should god get all the fun of punishing them and making them suffer?”

February 6, 2007 in Politics | Permalink | User Comments (629) | TrackBack (0)

The End

Sometimes, it ends abruptly--a single moment, a single crucial mistake. Sometimes, it's over before it began--the odds so long there was no chance at all. And sometimes, it's agony.

For all of us who live and die with Chicago sports, last night's Super Bowl was agony. Da Bears went down. And it wasn't pretty. Witnessing a debacle like this one really hurt. The slow, grinding death of our hopes as the minutes ticked away, the flickering possibilities that kept firing off sparks every time we looked at the scoreboard and found ourselves still within reach, and the dreaded, leaden weight of our own errors--it all made for a very bitter experience. And what made it more excruciating was that, for a few moments, it was heaven. Our beloved Bears leapt out into the lead, and our hearts were racing. Devin Hester's return felt like lightning striking.  Every step we took seemed charmed--the interception, the long run, the rifled TD pass. We could do no wrong. Then, inevitably, ineluctably, our worst fears took shape in the drizzle and damp, and reality set in--in the person of Peyton Manning. The rest is silence--at least for me.

But this year's Bears taught us one thing. There's glory in the struggle, in defying the naysayers and living the dream, even if it's only for a brief moment. And so, for that moment--many thanks, to this year's Monsters of the Midway.

February 5, 2007 in Sports | Permalink | User Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

How the death penalty really works

Death-penalty trials are intense. The ideal of our justice system--that impartial jurors will be presented facts by skilled advocates under civilized rules of evidence and come to a reasoned judgment--is put to a searing test. A capital case (and I've covered many in my career) is a visceral struggle, a matter of blood and sorrow, fear and pity, rage and mercy. I've felt at times covering death-penalty trials that I'm witnessing something that reaches deep into the human past, long before our country was imagined. Something almost tribal, something even pre-rational.

I say this not to make a point either for or against the death penalty. I am merely trying to describe what in my experience as a reporter really happens in a courtroom where a life is at stake, because another life has been savagely taken. As the debate over capital punishment continues in America, it is worth taking a steady look at how this thing really works, at the deep emotions unleashed in death penalty cases, and what they mean for the operation of our justice system.

Billy Slagle killed Mari Anne Pope. There is no doubt about that. It happened in 1987--almost twenty years ago now--in the pre-dawn hours of a summer morning in West Cleveland. Slagle, 19, wanted money for his next day's drinking. He was stoned on marijuana. Mari Anne Pope was babysitting a neighbor's two children, and when Slagle broke in to the house, she and the children awakened. The little ones escaped, but not before seeing Slagle on top of Mari Anne Pope in her bedroom. She was praying, her rosary in hand. Billy Slagle stabbed her 17 times with a sewing scissors. He was arrested on the scene, covered in blood, and confessed. Mari Anne Pope died a few hours later. Her broken rosary was found on the floor, a few feet from her bed.

Mari Anne Pope was one of 20,096 people murdered in the United States in 1987. By any reckoning, her killing was vicious. Billy Slagle was tried, convicted, and condemned to death. The question the courts have now been grappling with for two decades is: Was the jury's decision to put Billy Slagle to death reached in a manner consistent with our ideals of justice? Was it a reasoned judgment or a gut reaction? Was it a verdict under law or a paroxysm of emotion?

Today, the US Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit rejected Slagle's appeal for another hearing in his case. You can read the court's order by clicking here. You can read the court's original decision in the case by clicking here.

The issue that has bedeviled this case for twenty years is the conduct of the prosecutor. It was a high-profile trial; the community was shocked by the crime, many people justifiably seething with anger. The state was seeking the death penalty, and the prosecutor was determined to secure it.

During the course of the trial, the prosecutor told jurors that Slagle (an American Indian) "...and his kind...represent some of the greatest threats against community and civilization as we know it;" that Slagle "had crawled out of a hole;'" that Slagle (who took the stand) "had the nerve to tell you "I pray, I pray;'" that Mari Anne Pope "was ready to meet God, and Billy was ready to send her to meet Him;" and that Slagle "has no conscience" and his life "has been one big lie." When Slagle was on the witness stand, the prosecutor asked him, "You don't like prayers, do you Billy?"

So far, our courts have decided that the prosecutor's conduct in this trial was either proper under the law, or that it did not affect the case in any serious way. This may be just; it may be unjust. I take no position here.

But what I want to draw your attention to is the issue of raw, primal emotion in the case--and in our system. The reason we have jury trials and not blood feuds or vendettas is that we believe a group of citizens, fairly informed, can reach a reasoned judgment about what happened in a case, and what should be done about it. It might not be a perfect system, but it is a noble one. That hope defines us. It separates us from gangs, savages and lynch mobs. It is a very great ideal.

It is an ideal that is very hard--perhaps impossible--to see at work in a death-penalty case like Billy Slagle's, or in many others. Instead, we have a crying contest, a competition to see which side can break the jurors' hearts harder--either the prosecution with its portrayal of Mari Anne Pope as a devout Christian killed with bloodthirsty fury, or the defense and its portrayal of Slagle as an abused, alcoholic teenager. Why should those issues--and the emotions they trigger--matter? Would the case have turned out differently if Mari Anne Pope had been a drug addict? A hooker? Slagle's girlfriend? Would there have been a different verdict if Slagle had been a devout Christian struggling with alcohol addiction? If he'd shot her instead of knifed her?

We are beyond the realm of reason here, it seems to me. We are dealing with our most primitive emotions--fear, rage, pity, hatred, sorrow. But this is how the death penalty really works--the only way it could really work, given the stakes involved.

Do you think such a system is just?

February 2, 2007 in Law | Permalink | User Comments (41) | TrackBack (0)

Spitting in the face of God

Last night on Nightline, John Berman filed a provocative storyabout a group of militant atheists who call themselves "The Rational Response Squad" and who invite people to denounce God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit on-line in "The Blasphemy Challenge."

John's story was fascinating--either infuriating, inspiring or just good fun, depending on your point of view. You can watch it on line here--just go to the video link on the page. The piece sparked a wide-open, passionate debate on the Nightline message boards; if you want to join in, click here.

A lot of people out there are talking about proof--proof for or against the existence of God and the truth or falsity of the Bible. Take a look at this thread here.  It's a real donnybrook over the question of evidence--can you prove the existence or non-existence of God?

A poster called drakunis has weighed in on the side of rational, scientific denial of the existence of God:

"I challenge you to look through your good book, and all of your "evidence" and come up with something that is measurable by science. Welcome to the new world, science is your king. Science can answer almost all of your questions yet you turn a blind eye simply because you are afraid of the truth, there is no god, when you die, that is it. It's the same as before you were born, nothingness, yet you wont know it, so don't fear it."

That's basically what Brian "Sapient," the co-founder of the Rational Response Squad kept telling John Berman in one form or another. But it's always struck me as the height of human hubris to raise up Western scientific rationality--the invention of the last few hundred years and a product of the relatively puny human mind--and make it the measure of the universe. It's true our little minds are all we have, and we must live by our wits and trust them as far as they can take us. Irrationality is no answer. But neither is rationality. There are simply too many "unknown unknowns," as Donald Rumsfeld liked to say.

For many people who believe in God, faith is not a syllogism. It's not some kind of falsifiable equation. It's an experience, a state of being in relation to all that is outside us, seen and unseen. All religions seek to capture and express that near-universal human experience, that reverie at the edge of our lives, the sense that "there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."Nonsense, say the skeptics. Maybe. But is everything in your life knowable by way of syllogism and equation?

Another point. It's raised in the thread here by paloverde3:

"why only Christianity?

"In the interview on Nightline, No mention was made of Buddha, Islam, Hinduism, Judaism etc. When Brian (an ex Catholic) was asked how long the challenge would go on, he said, "As long as there's Christianity." If your an atheist, then everyones worship of God should be a target shouldn't it?"

Yes, it should. It's easy to blaspheme the Christian God these days. If Brian "Sapient" and his fellow atheists on-line REALLY wanted to show their commitment to principle, would they be willing to take on other religions and their gods? Would they take on Buddhism? Islam? I doubt it would be anywhere near as popular an idea. And what does that tell us about Christianity, Islam and western atheists? Is tolerance of blasphemy (and the fact that Nightline aired the story at all shows that it is tolerated here) a sign of vigor or decadence, strength or weakness in a religion? Are we more careful to respect the beliefs of people from other cultures than we are of our own neighbors? Maybe this kind of blasphemy contains less universal truth than parochial spite.

Blasphemy, at the end of the day, is an old trick. People--young people especially--have been at it for centuries, seeing in insults to God a vivid way to rebel against the authorities in their lives. The British poet Percy Bysshe Shelley was "sent down" (expelled) from Oxford in 1811 after writing a pamphlet entitled "The Necessity of Atheism." It began with the line, "There is no God." The great surrealists Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali shocked audiences almost 80 years ago with their portrayal of Jesus as a participant in one of the Marquis de Sade's orgies in the film L'Age D'or. There may be no God; there may be a God. But it seems to me a little humility in the face of the question--from both sides--might give us a better grasp of what we can--and cannot--understand.

And in that spirit I offer a few lines from the great poet Czeslaw Milosz.  He wrote this poem not long before he died in 2004 at the age of 93.

IF THERE IS NO GOD

If there is no God,

Not everything is permitted to man.

He is still his brother's keeper

And he is not permitted to sadden his brother,

By saying there is no God.

January 31, 2007 in Religion | Permalink | User Comments (53) | TrackBack (0)

Should reporters want Americans to win the war?

The New York Times has publicly reprimanded reporter Michael Gordon--a great journalist, author of the definitive Iraq War book Cobra II--for saying in a television interview that he thinks the US can still win the war.

Gordon was on The Charlie Rose Show on January 8th and was asked if he believed "victory was within our grasp." Included in Gordon's answer was this statement:

“So I think, you know, as a purely personal view, I think it’s worth it [sic] one last effort for sure to try to get this right, because my personal view is we’ve never really tried to win. We’ve simply been managing our way to defeat. And I think that if it’s done right, I think that there is the chance to accomplish something.”

The Times' public editor, Byron Calame, brought readers' complaints about what Gordon had said to the paper's editors. Philip Taubman, the paper's Washington Bureau Chief, decided Gordon had violated a basic principle, writing in an e-mail Calame made public:

“I would agree with you that he stepped over the line on the ‘Charlie Rose’ show. I have discussed the appearances with Michael and I am satisfied that the comments on the Rose show were an aberration. They were a poorly worded shorthand for some analytical points about the military and political situation in Baghdad that Michael has made in the newspaper in a more nuanced and unopinionated way. He agrees his comments on the show went too far.”

All this raises some interesting questions for those of us in the media, and for the public we serve. Should reporters want the US to win the war in Iraq? Whatever their personal judgment, should reporters say whether or not they believe the US can win the war? What role, if any, should patriotism play in the reporting of the United States at war?

I'm just raising these questions, and inviting discussion of them. But all of us who have reported on this war--perhaps especially those who have been to Iraq and seen young Americans on the front lines--have grappled with these questions. In our time, the answers don't come easy.

It wasn't always so. Many of the reporters who covered World War II were unabashed in sharing their patriotism--their "bias," if you will--with the public. Ernie Pyle,  one of the greatest war correspondents, was a keen observer of war's toll on the human spirit and of the everyday bravery of the American GI. He was no booster, though--nobody's tool. But he was also capable of writing this about the Sicilian civilians he encountered in the Allied invasion of the island in 1942: "After all, we are still at war, and these people though absurd and pathetic are enemies and caused us misery coming all this way to whip them." No reporter today could write such a line.

Times change, of course. It was a different war. But journalism changed, too. "Objectivity" became the lodestar of reporting, and a notion took hold that a journalist should cover events as neutrally as possible, without taking sides. This meant that reporters acted as independent observers and voices, in the hope of earning the trust and respect of the public.

But it seems to me there was always a built-in tension in this approach. There is no such thing as a person who is so untethered to any community--national, racial, religious, etc--that she or he is able to gain a truly "objective" view of things. We are all contingent creatures. We all know this. And when your country is at war, the tension becomes acute.

Thirteen days before President Bush launched the war in Iraq, he held a prime-time press conference. Support for war was running higher than 60 percent. People had very strong feelings about it. That night, I asked the president this question:

"In the past several weeks, your policy on Iraq has generated opposition from the governments of France, Russia, China, Germany, Turkey, the Arab League and many other countries, opened a rift at NATO and at the U.N., and drawn millions of ordinary citizens around the world into the streets in anti-war protests. May I ask, what went wrong that so many governments and people around the world now not only disagree with you very strongly, but see the U.S. under your leadership as an arrogant power?"

The president answered by reiterating his reasons for going to war. And I received an avalanche of hate mail from people who accused me of being unpatriotic, a traitor, a person who refelexively hated this country. The assumption these people made was that my question indicated I personally opposed the president's policy. Maybe I did; maybe I didn't. I'm not telling.

But whatever my personal opinion, I believed then and I believe now the question was a supremely patriotic one. Direct questioning of national leaders in a time of war is one reason the United States wins wars. The war policy gets tested in the crucible of public examination and debate, assumptions are challenged, alternatives explored. It's the process we Americans trust will bring us the best solutions to all our toughest problems. If anything, perhaps there hasn't been enough of that in this war. And I take responsibility for my part in that, too.

But the Times' rebuke of Michael Gordon takes the issue to a deeper level. As American journalists, are we truly unbiased when it comes to the question of our country at war? Do we really not care whether or not the United States defeats the terrorist forces that attacked on September 11, 2001? Iraq is a different matter--but every reporter I've ever talked to on the subject has an opinion. The Times policy--and that of most other news organizations--is that we ought to keep those opinions to ourselves. Fair enough. But are we really not allowed to say we'd prefer to see our country victorious rather than defeated?

What do you think?

January 30, 2007 | Permalink | User Comments (34) | TrackBack (0)

"End the War"?

There was an anti-war protest in Washington this weekend, and it might be the start of something big.

Former Senate Democratic leader Tom Daschle thinks the country's about to see a wave of protests, gathering strength and cresting in the summer. "There is a sense that by summer, a march like this will be two or three times as large," Daschle told The Washington Post.

Ever since the Viet Nam era, protest has become the preferred form of political discourse for a certain kind of American. No wonder; there's genuine appeal in marching and chanting and gathering together in great numbers. It's immediate. It's active. It's communal. Protest is both a personal performance and a considered expresssion of civic solidarity; it combines exhibitionism and thought. So in an era when "proper" political discourse seems to so many to be so watered-down, so cautious, so cynical, and even so pointless--people take to the streets.

But it seems to me that for a protest movement to work it must do more than merely display the ideals of the protestors. It must persuade other citizens of the justice of the cause. If it does not muster reasons to join the protest, if it only shouts slogans and heaps calumny on those who disagree with it, then can a protest movement truly amount to anything more than moral narcissism on a grand scale--on a kind of preening show of the supposed superiority of the protestors? Protest, it seems to me, too often has become an end in itself, rather than an instrument of political persuasion. Sheer numbers are not an argument. Hundreds of thousands of people in the streets demanding change simply because there are a lot of them are a mob, not a democratic movement.

All this is not meant in any form, fashion or sense to be a comment on the current anti-war protest movement. But it does lead me to a few questions about the reasoning underlying some of what we saw and heard in Washington this weekend. "End the war" the signs said. "Peace." "Stop the killing." In the context of Iraq, what does this mean? If the US withdraws all forces from Iraq--will that "end the war"? Will there be "peace"? Will it "stop the killing"? If so, why? If not, what are the consequences--moral and strategic--for Americans and for Iraqis? What, if any, are the US obligations to the people of Iraq now? Will withdrawing American troops fulfill those obligations? Does it matter what happens if we leave? Does it matter who wins if we leave?

I think these are questions many Americans are grappling with as they consider what to do in Iraq. A protest movement that fails to address them could be seen by many citizens as less a catalyst for change than a great, big tantrum. And that would be a shame--since there was obviously so much passion, sincerity and intelligence out there on the streets of this city this weekend.

January 28, 2007 in Current Affairs | Permalink | User Comments (27) | TrackBack (0)

Mitt Romney: The Interview

So after spending a long day campaigning in Iowa with Mitt Romney, I was struck by a couple of things: First, the number of people who came out to see him even now, a full year before the caucuses. There were a couple hundred people in both Waterloo and Dubuque--for a candidate with low name recognition at this point in the race. There's clearly a lot of buzz around this guy right now.

And there's something else. This winter, Iowa is burning with presidential political fever--in both parties. Veteran activists and reporters find it striking just how tuned in so many Iowans are to the race at this point, how intense the game's already gotten. This early enthusiasm for the presidential race might stem from many factors--the wide-open nature of this coming contest, the sense many people have that the country's off course somehow--but it also seems to me it's a sign the Bush era is over. Even for many Republicans, the president is a such a thoroughly known quantity--a man who will not surprise anyone and whose course is set in stone--that there is a palpable sense the time has come to look forward. Eagerly.

The other thing that struck me is Mitt Romney himself: He is personable and smart. He's done his homework. He takes tough questions without blinking and dodges them like a member of the great Average Joe's 's squad--just as all top politicians do these days. And he's already got what seems to be a crackerjack team on the ground. Watch for him; he's a real contender.

Here are a couple of excerpts from the sit-down interview I had with him. You can see it on ABC News' World News Sunday, Good Morning America on Monday, and a of course a full report on Nightline Monday night.

I'll be blogging more about it later.

ON PRESIDENT BUSH:

Moran:  “Would you describe yourself as a Bush Republican?”

Romney: “I describe myself as a conservative who I hope will be thought of as a thinking conservative. And that means I don’t just knee jerk react to every issue that comes up. I’m a little different than other folks. I don’t think anyone can be pigeon holed in one particular bucket or another--if you pardon the mix of metaphors. I’ve said, allow people to understand who I am, understand my perspective on issues. Understand where I stand, understand my principles and values and then they can decide whether that’s for them or not.”

Moran:  “So one of the issues before voters will be President Bush’s leadership. Grade him.”

Romney: “Well I don’t give grades to anybody, including myself.”

Moran:  “But that is an issue.  How well has he done?”

Romney: “Well, when I look at President Bush, I respect that he is a man of character and conviction. I don’t believe for a minute those people who ascribe ulterior motives, or say he’s not telling the truth. I think he’s done as well as he believes he can possibly do and he’s done it out of a compassion for this country and a belief that what he is doing is right for America….Has he made any mistakes? Of course, he’s a human being. Clearly our conduct with the conflict in Iraq has not been something which has been perfect. Part of the problem that we face today is a result of the mistakes that we’ve made over the last three years. That being said, our president is a person who is doing his very best, listening to his advisors, and doing whatever he can to help the American people.”

ON IRAQ:

Moran: "Was it the right thing for the United States to invade Iraq?"

Romney: "Well I supported the president at the time. He indicated that based on intelligence we had weapons of mass destruction as a threat to this land. He proposed a solution and I supported it. And I’m not going back and trying to second guess that. I don’t have the data or the inside sources to suggest doing that."

Moran: "We have a lot of data now though.  Would you, knowing what we know now, have supported an invasion against Iraq?"

Romney: "I’ll go back and say again, I wouldn’t make a decision like that without extensive data and analysis, and without the input of a lot of different people. Putting Americas men and women in harms way has to follow a process which has a very high bar to clear. And im not gonna try and go back and look at that particular conflict. But I can tell you what I'd do now. And, that is that, as long as there’s a pathway to success, we ought to pursue that. If the pathway gets closed off and there’s no visible way of achieving our success then you go to plan B. But plan A is to try and achieve a success....But that’s far from being a certain thing. And it may not even be a high probability. But as long as there’s a reasonable probability of success, it’s something you have to pursue. And if you reach a point where milestones aren’t being met, and there’s no prospect of success, then and only then do you consider any other options."

Moran: "So you’d be prepared as president to pull the troops out even if there was no success in Iraq?"

Romney: "I’m not going to describe scenarios I don’t want to think about. We are where we are today."

ON BEING A MORMON

Moran: “You’re a Mormon. Would you describe yourself as a devout Mormon, a true believer?”

Romney: “Absolutely. I’m proud of my faith, part of my heritage. I think the American people respect individuals of faith. That’s the kind of people want to lead the country. I don’t think they get into doctrines and if you will the periphery of a faith. My faith has made me a better person than I would have been otherwise…

Moran:  “You may be the most serious Mormon candidate for president the country has ever had, and a lot of Americans don’t know much about the faith--at some point polygamy was involved, et cetera. Is that a hurdle for you?”

Romney: “I think people are going to not spend a lot of time looking at a religion of a candidate. Everytime I consider our history of the nation, I look back at someone like John F. Kennedy, people thought his faith was going to be an issue that just got overwhelmed by the differences and the perspective and character and viewpoints and issues. When I ran for governor of Mass. At the beginning people said gosh what do you think about his religion? And that was quickly brushed aside and the real issues because the central focus. I think the same thing will happen at the national level. After all I subscribe to what Abraham Lincoln called American's political religion. That is you abide by the constitution and the rule of law. And when you take the oath of office, that’s your highest responsibility.”

Moran:  “I don't want to press you on this. As people get to know you and get to know your faith they may have questions...for example, like do you believe that the garden of Eden was in Missouri  and that Jesus Christ’s Second Coming will be there. Or that God has a physical body? Do you expect those questions? How would you handle them?”

Romney: “I don’t expect those questions. What I expect people to do is to say there are differences between faith, theology is different, but we don’t judge a candidate based on the theology of the religion they grew up in. my family’s heritage is in our faith and I’m proud of that. But I’m not going to go through and cafeteria style talk about each doctrine, and which I accept. That’s not the nature of a campaign. As Dr. Richard Lance said, I’m not running for pastor in chief. And the differences between faith really aren’t what’s critical. Instead I look at the commonality of faith. And in our faith, like the other faiths in this land, we try and serve others with compassion. We believe in a divine creator. We believe in the family nature of humankind, we believe in marriage, and devotion to our spouse, and to our kids.”

January 28, 2007 in Politics | Permalink | User Comments (19) | TrackBack (0)

Mitt Romney and the Mormon Question

I'm in Iowa today, spending the day with Mitt Romney, the former Massachusetts governor who's all but running for the Republican presidential nomination.

Romney's got a lot going for him. He proved his business acumen over two decades with the management consulting firm Bain and Company, and earned a fortune when he led their venture-capital spin-off Bain Capital. He rescued the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City from the brink of a cesspool of debt and corruption, bringing the analytical focus and personal discipline that seem to be hallmarks of his character to a job nobody wanted--and made a splendid success of it. He served one term as the conservative Republican governor of perhaps the most liberal Democratic state in the country--and passed a universal health care law that is being held up as a possible model for the country, while battling his state's Supreme Judicial Court over the issue of gay marriage. He's the son of a politician--former Michigan governor George Romney--and has good instincts, a preternaturally smooth public persona, and Rushmore looks.

All that is secondary, of course, to what the man stands for, and what he would do with the power he seeks. We can talk about that, but I want to raise another secondary--tertiary?--issue before I head out to meet him today: his faith.

Romney is a Mormon, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For some voters, it seems, there's a question: Should Mormonism matter in presidential politics?

First off, as a constitutional matter, the answer is emphatically "No." Article VI of the Constitution declares explicitly, "no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." That's that.

Nevertheless, voters choose candidates for all kinds of reasons, some legitimate, some not. And sometimes, faith matters. For instance, if a candidate openly declared, "I am an atheist; God is a fairy tale invented to comfort children frightened of the dark"--I don't think he or she would get elected in America. Ever. I think we'll have a fat, gay Muslim president before we have an atheist one.

That's because at some level we learn about people through their religion--or lack of it. A candidate's faith is contextual--it fills out a public profile with the outlines of the most private of our commitments. And it is here--in the quest to understand what kind of man Mitt Romney, presidential candidate, is--that his Mormonism seems to matter to some.

For some Americans, Mormon beliefs are just too weird. Jacob Weisberg in Slate has made the case that anyone who actually believes Joseph Smith's revelation is too "irrational" to be president. Weisberg's come in for a lot of grief for writing that, but he speaks for many voters who seem wary, if not outright alarmed, by the Mormon creed. Speaking as a religious believer whose faith--like all faiths--contains tenets that to non-believers might seem 'irrational,' I don't feel I'm in any position to judge the temporal absurdity of another man's beliefs. Faith itself is, as Pope John Paul II put it, a "sign of contradiction" to the world. It's supposed to be jarring to your everday perceptions. That's the point. We are dealing with matters beyond the everyday.

But there is a deeper argument about Mormonism and the presidency, and it deals with the contemporary authority of prophecy and revelation. As I understand it, Mormons believe we live in an age of prophecy--articulated in the pronouncements of the leaders of their church--and that these authentic revelations of God's will are aimed at reforming Christianity and the world in preparation for the Second Coming of Jesus Christ (which will be in Missouri--a tenet that makes a lot of people giggle. But if you'd told the Romans God was about to manifest himself on earth in Bethlehem, they'd have giggled, too.)

The issue for some (Damon Linker laid it out in The New Republic) is that if a person truly believes the utterances of church leaders are revelations carrying the force of prophecy--then they are binding, and binding on every aspect of life. Would a President Romney be bound by prophetic Mormon teaching on issues from abortion and stem-cell research to the Middle East? Is the question any different for a Mormon like Romney than it is for a Methodist like George W. Bush or a Catholic like John F. Kennedy?

These are basic questions for Romney. I'll ask him in a couple of hours, and let you know what he says.

January 26, 2007 | Permalink | User Comments (43) | TrackBack (0)

Let's Talk About It: Hillary

Well, I certainly seem to have struck a nerve with that post on Senator Hillary Clinton's presidential candidacy.

Some of you took the opportunity to voice your opinions of her fitness--or unfitness--for office, depending on your point of view. Thanks, but that's not a discussion for me.

What really struck me was the range of opinions on the issue I raised: Does the fact that Senator Clinton's rise to national prominence came in part because of her marriage to Bill Clinton matter at all as Americans consider her candidacy for president?

Some of you felt that her rise to power has depended too much on the marriage she made, clouding our perceptions of her real strengths and weaknesses. Here's how End the Oligarchy put it:

"If you look at Hilary's advantages, they're all tied to her marriage. Money, through the network and connections of her husband, near universal name recognition because of her time as first lady, and seeming inevitability because of the Democrats' strong regard for President Clinton's record in the White House. Sure, she's smart, hardworking, tough, but none of those things would make her much more than a successful lawyer, let alone a Senator or a legitimate stakeholder in the run for the White House. She lacks charisma, she's not a particularly warm or eloquent speaker, she's diligent, but she's not an amazing legislator. I can't think of anything she's accomplished offhand."

A lot of people disagreed with End the Oligarchy.

My wife, for one. When she read the post, she had a straightforward response:"How do we know that Bill would have been president if he hadn't married Hillary?" She's right, of course. A marriage is a partnership, a journey with incalculable consequences for each person in every aspect of life. Bill Clinton would probably be the first to acknowledge this truth. That it took my wife telling me in order for me to grasp it says something. I'd prefer not to speculate about what.

Others echoed my wife's point, in more pointed fashion. Joan wrote earlier today:

"I love how men take all the credit for their successes and half the credit for their wives. Whether the topic is parenting or politics, they seem to manage to take time out of their busy schedules to co-opt the "little woman's" curtain call.

Here's an article you'll never see written by a man: 'How HIllary Got Bill to the White House.'"

OK. I get it. But I still think dynastic politics aren't healthy for democracies.

January 24, 2007 in Politics | Permalink | User Comments (13) | TrackBack (0)

Lighten up, Hollywood!

Tonight, we're doing a story on the Oscar nominations--the politics of who gets nominated and why. Vicki Mabrey will take a look at what this year's crop of nominees tells us about the politics and culture of the Hollywood voters who chose them.

One thing's for certain, though, as far as I'm concerned. The Oscars are too serious--way too serious.

Think about it. Long, solemn, heavy movies always seem to get the nod over light romantic comedies and farces. Somewhere along the way, the Oscars got "English-Patient-ed."

And why should this be? Ask any actor, writer or director of film comedy. It's an art--a high and difficult art. Timing, wordplay, pratfalls, pacing--great comedy takes great talent. And making people laugh, making them happily believing in happy-ever-afters, even if only for a few moments, is at least as honorable an artistic endeavor as confronting them with some version of the grim side of life. We'd love Shakespeare less if he'd never given us Beatrice and Benedick.

And Hollywood has always given us froth and farce and romance with tremendous panache. Think of Bringing Up Baby.  Hilarious. Flawless. And ignored by the Academy.

You could make a case that the best movie of the 1990s was Groundhog Day. Not a false step in it--except for Bill Murray's stumbling into the puddle of slush over and over. It's a movie that's entered the language, and changed the meaning of that old holiday. But--ignored by the Academy. (Of course, Murray was later nominated for the far more serious, and far inferior, Lost in Translation--and then he lost out to the overacting Sean Penn in the--you guessed it--waaayyyy-serious Mystic River.)

And on and on it goes. Pick almost any year in the last quarter-century or so, and you'll see Hollywood's comedic genius disrespected. Example: 1981. Why did the deadening Ordinary People win for Best Picture the year Airplane was made? How does that make sense? Which movie would you rather watch today?

Now, I'm as big a fan of serious movies and big costume epics as the next person--unless the next person likes Closer. And I realize some comedies are honored every year--Borat got a screenwriting nomination this year.

I just wish the Hollywood types who vote on the Oscars gave a little more credit to one of the things Hollywood does best: Make us laugh.

January 24, 2007 in Film | Permalink | User Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)