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First Things
A Continuing Survey
of Religion and Public Life
Richard John Neuhaus
Copyright (c) 1994
First Things 46 (October 1994): 74-88.
This Month:
Truth and Tolerance
"Tolerance is not a religious virtue," a feisty rabbi friend is fond of
declaring in public, gleefully scandalizing the properly liberal in his
audience. Truth, not tolerance, he goes on to say, is what religion is
about. None of us should want to dispute that religion, at least
biblical religion, is about truth. And there may be a pedagogical shock
value in challenging our liberal culture's uncritical attachment to
tolerance. But in our more serious moments we are compelled to recognize
that an awful lot turns on whether we think there is a tradeoff between
truth and tolerance. Historically and at present, many (most?) religious
folk have assumed that there is such a tradeoff. Forced to make a
choice, the militantly orthodox opt for truth at the expense of
tolerance, while the flaccidly liberal opt for tolerance at the expense
of truth. Dissenting from this view of the matter, some of us have been
arguing for a long time that truth and tolerance go together, and
necessarily so. Put differently, it is Christian truth that makes
tolerance imperative.
These reflections are prompted by a remarkable new book by a young
Englishman who teaches theology at the University of Exeter. His name is
Ian S. Markham and the book is titled Plurality and Christian
Ethics (Cambridge University Press, $30). Markham's argument has
many parts, and following it requires close attention even by the
theologically and philosophically trained, but it richly rewards the
effort. In summary form, Markham is making two claims, one philosophical
and the other historical. They are admittedly very big claims, which is
why he devotes an entire book to defending them. Markham also knows that
his claims run counter to conventional wisdoms about tolerance and
truth, which is why he attends so carefully to the arguments of his
opponents.
The philosophical claim is this:
[T]he contemporary threats to plurality do not
come from religion but from secularism. The secularist, who
has given up the quest for truth and therefore moral debate
and rational dialogue, is the greater danger to tolerance. A
religious foundation for tolerance is grounded in the
reality of God that ensures the intelligibility of the
universe. This foundation is the only effective antidote to
secular reason, which cannot avoid the dangers of nihilism.
Truth claims depend upon the conviction that the universe is
intelligible, and that in turn depends upon belief in God.
And the historical claim is this:
[T]he United States has made a cultural
discovery. It has found good religious reasons why we ought
to affirm plurality. The British [and European] debate about
plurality is still firmly rooted within the confines of
premodernity and modernity. However, the nation of
immigrants was forced, right from the start, to engage with
plurality. And slowly a culture emerged that was both
religious and tolerant. This led some to suggest that
America had created a new religion-civil religion; but in
fact Christians, Jews, and Muslims were discovering the
importance of plurality. . . . In this sense, Americans are
postmodern.
Do not be distracted by Markham's use of "plurality." He avoids
"pluralism" because that term is associated with another set of
arguments in the United Kingdom. By plurality he means what most of us
call pluralism-a society in which people who subscribe to quite
different accounts of reality, including moral and religious reality,
are thrown together and must decide what to do about it. It is the very
considerable achievement of modernity that people decided that the thing
to do is to be tolerant. It is the very considerable problem of
modernity that tolerance is often purchased at the price of denying the
differences, including the differences that make the most difference,
such as differences over what people believe to be most importantly
true.
The Courage of His Conclusions
At this point I must declare interest, as the lawyers say. Plurality
and Christian Ethics is in large part a sympathetic analysis of my
own writings on questions related to religion and public life, moral
legitimacy and democratic governance. With few exceptions, Markham has
my argument right, and an author is of course grateful for that. He very
usefully pieces that argument together as it has developed over-it
hardly seems possible-almost thirty years. The important contribution of
the book, however, is that it places the American experience and
arguments about that experience into a much larger historical and
transcultural context. Unlike so many scholars who timorously trim and
equivocate lest they step on toes in their academic guild, Markham
typically exhibits the courage of his conclusions. Here he is at his
most forthright; some will call it grandiose, others will call it
daring; the pertinent question is whether it is true:
It is given to certain cultures at certain times
to discover a different way of understanding their religious
tradition. Often the discovery is embedded in existing
beliefs; sometimes it is a distinctive innovation. More
often than not it is a combination of the two. The
discovery, if it survives, becomes so "obvious" that people
wonder why it was not discovered before. It was given to the
eighth century b.c.e. prophets of Israel to discover the
high moral standards God expects of his people. It was given
to medieval Europe to experience the all-pervasive influence
of the Christian narrative, thereby showing the way in which
everything we value can be understood. It was given to the
Reformers to discover the democratic implications of the
gospel. And now I have shown it has been given to the
Americans to discover a religious affirmation of plurality.
One may at first be staggered by the suggestion that the "American
discovery" is somehow comparable in historical importance to Sinai, the
creation of Christendom, and the Reformation. But careful attention to
the supporting argument makes it clear that Markham's claim, while
certainly controversial, is not an indulgence in reckless hyperbole. The
argument, to paraphrase it all too briefly, runs like this. In the
modern era, tolerance has been the trump card in the secularists'
construction of what has been called the naked public square. After the
wars of religion in seventeenth-century Europe, sensible thinkers
concluded that religion is inherently divisive and destructive of civil
society. The antireligious set out to destroy religion; the more devout
agreed to confine their religion to the private sphere; many others
simply expected that religion would wither away as people became more
"enlightened." Tolerance was necessary to civil peace, and religion was
the chief threat to tolerance. In this account, tolerance is a secular
achievement won at great cost in a battle against religion. This secular
narrative of the history of tolerance, Markham recognizes, has a good
deal of truth to it.
But a number of funny things have happened on the way to the end of the
twentieth century. For one, secular tolerance has become profoundly
intolerant. For another, there is widespread agreement today, also among
secular liberals, that secular liberalism cannot provide a convincing
philosophical defense of the tolerance that was once the great
achievement of secular liberalism. The truth about tolerance is that
tolerance requires truth. But, as Markham demonstrates with impressive
erudition and panache, from Hume to Kant to Nietzsche to Richard Rorty,
modernity has ineluctably corroded intellectual confidence in the
possibility of truth. In his extensive and intriguing discussion of
Alasdair MacIntyre, John Milbank, Jeffrey Stout, and others, Markham
obviously agrees that a historically specifiable tradition of secular
rationality has come to an intellectual dead end. With MacIntyre in
particular, he champions a rival tradition that draws significantly on
Thomas Aquinas, and this alternative Markham typically calls theism.
The discussion of current philosophical disputes constitutes a monograph
within this small book of only 225 pages. But it is a necessary
discussion, and one filled with frequent juxtapositions that sharply
pose what is at stake. This, for example, on Jeffrey Stout's insistence
that the threat of public religion still makes necessary a dogmatically
secular practice of tolerance, even if that practice cannot be
philosophically defended: "Stout wants to resist religious solutions
because he does not trust religion. He wants to affirm liberalism
because he wants to affirm tolerance. Much of his argument would crumble
if it could be shown that a religious culture can also be a tolerant
culture. Such a demonstration is the object of this book." At times
Markham suggests a stronger form of the argument: not only can a
religious culture be tolerant, but only a religious culture can give a
convincing reason for being tolerant.
Rational Theism
A religious culture is one pervasively influenced by theism understood
in rather broad terms, and in terms that, Markham insists, are
rationally justified. In this connection he develops his own version of
Aquinas' argument from necessary cause, and sharply distinguishes theism
from the deism of rationalists who posit a God who kicks things off and
then steps back to watch the world machine work of itself. Against
currently popular attitudes, he insists that the question of God's
existence is not an "interesting question" comparable to the
"interesting question" of whether there might be a Loch Ness monster.
"Religion is a life-transforming world perspective which affects every
aspect of life. For the naturalist, the universe is an inanimate entity
that through remarkable chance has generated mind and consciousness. All
moral values are culture projection. The main theistic claim is the
opposite: at the heart of the universe is goodness and love enabling all
to be. This is what we mean by God." In an aside that begs to be
developed, he notes that recognition of this goodness and love leads to
wonder and worship, and that the nature of worship necessarily tends to
monotheism (even in Hinduism where many gods and goddesses are
expressions of the one-Brahman). You can reverence many gods and
goddesses, but you can only worship one God.
The more orthodox Christian or Jew might be dissatisfied with Markham's
generalized theism, especially since it seems not entirely consonant
with his assertion that it is orthodox or conservative religion that
provides the most secure foundation for tolerance. On the other hand,
Markham might contend that, if even such a generalized theism provides a
basis for a coherent argument in defense of tolerance, religion with a
fuller and more specific content provides an even firmer basis. Suffice
it that Markham's theological program, as distinct from his
philosophical program, is underdeveloped in this book. God willing, he
will have opportunities to develop that. Develop it he must, if he is to
be faithful to his own understanding of the task of the Christian
ethicist. The modern Christian thinkers whom he admires (Reinhold
Niebuhr being the foremost example) are those who are able, as Markham
puts it, to work in "three modes of enquiry"-the theological, the
cultural, and the practical.
In addition to the very effective philosophical polemic against
naturalism and in addition to his apology for theism, the reader is
struck by the close attention to the cultural and practical. Markham is
alert to historical contingency without being historicist. In his view,
God is still up to things; the human project is by no means finished;
history is susceptible to transformative "discoveries"-such as the
religious affirmation of pluralism. The "secular narrative" of how
tolerance was achieved and pluralism affirmed despite religion and
against religion was, Markham recognizes, losing its credibility for
some thinkers already in the early part of this century. It does not
diminish MacIntyre's achievement to note that long before he came on the
scene there were Christian intellectuals who challenged the secular
Enlightenment's claim that it represents a tradition-transcending
rationality. They recognized that Enlightenment rationalism was one
tradition among others, and that it was a tradition that had become
increasingly oppressive as it became decreasingly plausible.
Arguments Compared
In the 1920s in Great Britain these figures converged in what came to be
called the Christendom Group. John Bailey, J. L. Oldham, A. Vidler, and
R. H. Tawney were among the more prominent members. V. A. Demant was the
group's most prolific and representative writer, although T. S. Eliot's
The Idea of a Christian Society is perhaps the only book from
the movement that is still read today. Markham loosely structures his
own book around the comparison between the Christendom Group and "the
American discovery." In Markham's presentation of the argument, the
contemporary representatives of the American discovery are Robert Bellah
and the present writer. What all these people have in common, to put it
in summary fashion, is the belief that secular rationalism had
demonstrated itself to be intellectually unconvincing and culturally
destructive. Demant and the Christendom Group tended to the view that
modernity itself was a ghastly mistake. They are, says Markham,
"premoderns" who wanted to reconstitute a more coherent Christian world.
For them, pluralism and tolerance were the problem created by modernity,
not the achievement of modernity. In a word, the Christendom Group
rejected pluralism in favor of monism.
For Bellah and Neuhaus, on the other hand, pluralism and tolerance are
achievements of modernity. Even if they were, in specific historical
conflicts, achieved against religion, they can be and should be affirmed
by religion. The most important difference between Bellah and Neuhaus,
as Markham tells it, is that Bellah thinks such an affirmation requires
a "civil religion" or national "covenant." Neuhaus contends that such an
affirmation can be produced from the resources of biblical faith,
resulting in a religiously informed "public philosophy" that can support
a free and democratic social order. Markham has a two-page spread in
which he offers a typology of the different theological, cultural, and
practical positions of the Christendom Group (Demant), Civil Religion
(Bellah), and Public Philosophy (Neuhaus). On the key question of
tolerance, for Demant tolerance is a problem of liberalism, for Bellah
it is an important social value, and for Neuhaus it is a practice based
on a religious insight into how the world really is. Incidentally, in
his typology Markham is right, I believe, in noting an important
affinity between Bellah and the Christendom Group; both are antimodern
in their hostility to democratic capitalism and attraction to various
socialist proposals for a more "communitarian" economic and social
order.
I cannot speak for the Christendom Group, most of whom are dead, nor for
Robert Bellah, who is very much alive, but I have no major complaints
about Markham's depiction of my own argument. I do have some major
questions, however. They are friendly questions. Whether or not he has
made his case convincingly on every front, I believe that Markham is
entirely right about his central thesis. The cultural dominance of
secularism depends upon the believability of the claim that religion and
religiously grounded moral judgment are inherently intolerant. In the
thoroughly secularist regime, this is extended to the claim that it is
not possible to give any account of the moral good in public because
there is and can be no agreement about moral truth. This, in turn, is
extended to the claim that there is no such thing as moral truth, and
indeed no such thing as truth-at least not in any publicly pertinent
sense of the word.
For many of our contemporaries, that is where the argument has come to
rest. In a manner that is deservedly called brilliant, Ian Markham
argues that this view of things is both irrational and destructive of
civil society. He correctly sees that the linchpin of the secularist
worldview is the contention that religion, because of its claims to
truth, is inherently intolerant. Remove that linchpin and the dogmas of
secularism collapse. That linchpin is removed by demonstrating that it
is precisely a truth claim of religion that tolerance is not only
possible but imperative. The "American discovery" is such a
demonstration. QED.
Five Questions
I mention but five questions that suggest the demonstration is not quite
so decisive as Markham indicates. He has good discussions of other
Christian thinkers who have wrestled with the problem of truth and
tolerance-Augustine and Thomas being the outstanding instances-but I am
not sure that he is entirely fair to them. Within their own conceptual
framework, given the appropriate cultural and political stimuli, it
seems possible that they and other thinkers might have developed the
religious case for tolerance. As for the later part of the story, it was
the brute contingent fact of the Reformation and the wars of religion
that followed it that practically forced militant secularism into being
and made possible its successful bid for a monopoly on what counted as
public discourse.
If this suggestion has merit, it may be that we are dealing less with an
"American discovery" as with a resumption under American circumstances
of a doctrinal development deeply rooted in the Christian tradition. On
Markham's own account, even the Christendom Group was frequently
ambivalent about tolerance and pluralism, with Demant contending that
the achievements of liberalism are better supported by Christian faith
than by liberal theory. Conspicuously absent from Markham's account is
Roman Catholic social doctrine, especially the teaching on religious
liberty of the Second Vatican Council and major documents of the present
pontificate, such as the encyclical Centesimus Annus. On
questions of truth and tolerance, Catholic teaching has undoubtedly been
influenced by "the American discovery" through figures such as John
Courtney Murray, but the development of teaching draws on many other
sources as well.
Second, Markham knows that tolerance is often viewed as a weak and
wimpish virtue, and he urges upon us a stronger sense of tolerance that
entails genuine engagement and argument within the bond of civility. It
is hard to disagree, but he offers little help in seeing how we get from
wimpish tolerance to the tolerance that vigorously engages differences.
The American experience, at least at present, is not terribly
encouraging on this score (see below on the status of "truth" in our
culture). The reason Markham is not as helpful as one might hope on this
score is related to my third question. At the end of the day, the
reasons he gives for being tolerant tend to depend upon uncertainty and
diffidence. In this respect his reasons for tolerance are not unlike
those offered by John Stuart Mill. There is nothing wrong with agreeing
with Mill when Mill is right, but Mill's arguments for tolerance
represent a moderate relativism that, experience demonstrates, ends up
in radical relativism. If tolerance is to be well grounded religiously,
it must be secured not so much in what we don't know but in what we do
know.
In this connection, and without going into detail, Markham does not get
quite right what he celebrates as my great contribution to understanding
the cognitive implications of Christian eschatology. The fact that
history is not yet consummated in the Kingdom, joined to what we know
about the diversity of God's creation and the consequences of the
fallenness of human nature (including our reason)-all these induce a
certain cognitive humility. And that humility is evidenced in an
openness to different accounts of the truth, to pluralism. But all of
this is premised not upon our uncertainty or ignorance but upon our sure
knowledge of, for instance, creation, fall, redemption, and promised
consummation. It is because as a Christian I know for sure how the world
really is that I know I must respectfully engage and learn from those
who disagree with me about how the world really is. It is precisely the
Christian account of reality that explains why I do not know all that is
to be known and why I can learn also from those who deny the Christian
account of reality. This is more than a rhetorical difference with
Markham, although it is perhaps that in part. By resting so much of the
case for tolerance on the premise of uncertainty, Markham, against his
best instincts and stated intentions, runs the risk of reinforcing the
secular liberalism that he wants to counter. That is, he runs the risk
of reinforcing the assumption that the foundation of tolerance is
skepticism rather than knowledge of the truth.
A closely related and fourth question has to do with Markham's implicit
assumption that religious pluralism is the permanent state of affairs.
He disagrees with John Milbank's claim that Christians speak in order to
convert. The main weight of his disagreement, as I understand it, is
with Milbank's rejection of the possibility of reasoned persuasion
across the divides of conflicting worldviews, religious and otherwise.
But Markham also seems to throw into question whether Christians should
engage others in the hope that they will be converted to Christianity.
It is very difficult, to say the least, for an orthodox Christian to
disown the hope that everybody will become Christian. In that apparently
improbable circumstance, however, the arguments in support of tolerance
and pluralism would hardly be obsolete. Ideally conceived, in that case
everything that is good, true, and beautiful in the experience of non-
Christians would be encompassed and fulfilled under the auspices of
Christianity. With that would also come much that is evil, false, and
ugly in the human condition, as we know too well from our experience
with Christians, beginning with ourselves. Pluralism within a nominally
all-Christian world may be more difficult than at present (remember that
the wars of religion were, after all, fought between Christians). In any
event, Markham's argument will be severely weakened for orthodox
Christians if he means to say that true tolerance requires that
Christians eschew the hope for conversion.
Fifth and finally, I suspect that Markham makes too much of my own
writings on the American religious experience. More precisely, he is in
danger of taking my prescription of how tolerance ought to be
religiously grounded as a description of how in fact tolerance
is religiously grounded in America. I wish he were more right than I
think he is about "the American discovery." Some Americans have made the
discovery, I hope many more will, and I do believe that America is
singularly situated to demonstrate the truth of the discovery. But we
are not at the happy point that Markham sometimes seems to suggest, and
there are formidable obstacles in the way of our ever getting there.
For many Christians in America, both Catholic and Protestant, tolerance
is simply something to be tolerated. They even feel guilty about being
tolerant. If they had the courage of their convictions, they tell
themselves, they would be much more aggressively intolerant of those who
do not accept the truth that they possess. In addition, there are many
more Christians who are indifferent to the question of truth outside the
private sphere of "what is true for me." They would not dream of
"imposing" their truth on anyone else. This is the vulgar nihilism that
makes the mantra of "choice" so devastatingly effective with respect to
abortion and other questions of great moral moment. Compounding these
confusing dynamics is a still powerful secularist ideology that
dominates the political culture and is strongly supported by the
judiciary's interpretation of the separation of church and state to mean
the separation of religion and, increasingly, the separation of moral
discourse from public life. Those who advance that secularist ideology
do not, of course, acknowledge that they are imposing their own moral
judgments upon the society.
The American experiment is not over, or at least we have no way of
knowing whether it is or not. America may yet become, God willing, the
history-transforming exemplification of how tolerance can be grounded in
truth, including religious truth. It may yet overthrow the tyranny of a
humanly truncated and withering secularism that atomizes community and
reduces politics to demeaning exercises of the will to power. In sum,
America may yet become what Ian Markham thinks, or at least hopes, it
already is. If and when it does become that, it will be acknowledged in
retrospect that what America is now was in process of becoming what Ian
Markham says it is. In that happy event, Plurality and Christian
Ethics will be acclaimed as prophetically prescient. Meanwhile, I
am pleased to recommend it as one of the most intelligently provocative
essays on religion and public life to have appeared in a long time.
To Step Gingerly Over the Cliff
Herewith some opinion-surfing on dismal developments (but see below for
an exception to the dismal) in the promotion of doctor-assisted suicide
and euthanasia. Everyone is familiar by now with the decision of federal
judge Barbara Rothstein in Seattle striking down a state law that bans
assisted suicide. The law is unconstitutional, she said, because "the
suffering of a terminally ill person cannot be deemed any less deserving
of protection from unwarranted governmental interference than that of a
pregnant woman." Richard Brookhiser writes in the New York
Observer, "The click you heard was the click of an argument
completed. For years, opponents of abortion warned that the erosion of
vigilance at the beginning of life would lead to erosion of vigilance at
the end. Now they have been confirmed by the majesty of the law. Justice
Harry Blackmun must be sorry that he left the Supreme Court before he
could give the decision the highest imprimatur; maybe Justice David
Souter will take up the slack for him."
Brookhiser was impressed when some years ago Norman Podhoretz of
Commentary remarked that this country would not countenance
euthanasia. As soon as the baby boomers started turning fifty, he said,
they would see to it that this issue stayed off the agenda. "Let us hope
he is right," writes Brookhiser, "because the legal and intellectual
spades are turning." One recalls Chesterton's observation that the
problem with a mad man is not that he is not logical; the problem is
that he is only logical. The Rothstein decision exhibits that kind of
logic. He who says A must say B. He who says Roe v. Wade must say
assisted suicide.
Rothstein quotes Casey v. Planned Parenthood in arguing that
deciding to end one's life, like deciding to have an abortion, "involves
the most intimate and personal choices a person can make . . . and
constitutes a choice central to personal dignity and autonomy." The
judge says that the state has an interest in discouraging suicide by
young people and others "with a significant life span ahead of them."
Brookhiser notes that the judge is not quite prepared to say B.
Brookhiser writes, "If intimacy, choice, dignity, and autonomy are the
only standards to be invoked, then any potential suicide has a right to
seek assistance, just as any woman, under Roe v. Wade, has a right to an
abortion. Who is to say that depressives have less dignity than cancer
patients, or that nineteen-year-olds should have less choice than
ninety-year-olds?"
At least with this Administration, however, Brookhiser thinks there is a
political logic to tying the right to be killed to the abortion right.
Abortion seems to be the one sure anchor of the Administration. On
abortion, President Clinton has been adamant. "In the midst of all the
switchbacks and backtracks, in the murk of Haiti, Bosnia, health care,
and welfare reform, the Administration has never wavered on one issue,
and that is abortion," Brookhiser observes. In its first day in office,
the Clinton team lifted the so-called gag rule, which had prevented
federal money from being used to promote abortion. Later, we were
treated to the remarkable spectacle of the President of the United
States very publicly intervening to get a pill admitted to the country,
the infamous RU-486. Clinton supported and signed a law that imposes
draconian penalties on those who nonviolently protest at abortion
clinics.
This year the administration has put on a full court press to line up
the entire U.S. diplomatic apparatus in pushing abortion as an integral
part of the United Nations program of population control. In the last
instance Clinton has, in a perhaps unprecedented way, brought U.S.
policy into direct, explicit, and apparently nonnegotiable conflict with
the Vatican. The stakes are very high. Over the next few years the
Vatican could become the catalyst for a rebellion of many poor nations
against what is accurately described as U.S. cultural imperialism
advanced through a compliant UN bureaucracy. The imposition of cultural
and moral fashions made in the U.S.A. on poor countries has, so far as
we can see, provoked not a chirp of protest from those in this country
who a few years ago presented themselves as ardent champions of the
"third world" against the oppression of the "first world," meaning the
U.S.
Abortion, embryo experimentation, fetal transplants, RU-486, population
control-these are the issues on which an otherwise flaccid and wobbly
Administration is unmovable. And, of course, they are all issues that
find their warrant and logic in Roe v. Wade and its judicial offspring.
In this context, there is not only logic but political astuteness in
Judge Rothstein's anchoring of the right to be killed in the abortion
liberty's right to kill.
Strip-Mining the Constitution
Charles Krauthammer (who subtitles his reflection, "This is not a
slippery slope. It's a cliff.") is exercised about what the Rothstein
decision means for democratic governance. "Less than three years ago,"
he notes, "Washington [State] had a referendum on this very issue. After
one of the most vigorous public debates ever held on assisted suicide,
the people of Washington decided against the brave new world of mercy
killing. Judge Rothstein has now decided they had no right to do so. The
spirit of the imperial judiciary having trickled down to Seattle, such
niceties as 140 years of tradition and a clearly expressed popular will
must not stand in the way of one judge's willful reading of the
Constitution." Rothstein wrote that, where a constitutional right is
involved, the court cannot leave matters to the legislature or to the
people but must boldly accept responsibility for resolving the issue.
Says Krauthammer, "What duty. What courage. What chutzpah."
As for Rothstein's invocation of the Casey effusions about
intimate, personal, and autonomous choices, Krauthammer wonders why the
court does not go further. "Why should the state be allowed to interfere
with, say, drug-taking? What decision is more private, more 'intimate
and personal,' more an expression of personal autonomy than choosing to
alter one's own mood and perceptions through a voluntary act?" And where
does the court get off, he wonders, limiting assisted suicide to the
terminally ill. There are many people who for various reasons and at
various times want to end their lives, and want help in doing so. He
cites Michigan law professor Yale Kamisar, who notes that "it is
perverse to allow the relief of suicide to the terminally ill whose
suffering is about to end shortly, while denying it to the nonterminal
who face endless decades of unrelieved anguish."
Krauthammer's focus, however, is on what all this does to American
democracy. "Roe is the most spectacular modern example of
judicial willfulness. To cite it in a decision that judicially
legislates assisted suicide is entirely appropriate. Both decisions
strip-mine the Constitution to locate a right never before found and to
thereby override the citizenry's right to decide the issue
democratically." Krauthammer's conclusion is that of a doleful democrat.
"I have no great expectation that over the long run the people and their
legislators will firmly hold the line against physician-assisted
suicide. But I would rather see the ban overturned by popular will after
vigorous debate than by judicial fiat. If the consequences of permitting
assisted suicide turn out to be as baleful as I predict, a democratic
decision can always be reversed. But with constitutional rights there is
no further appeal. . . . As with abortion, all that is left is
bitterness, angry demonstrations, and a deep sense of
disenfranchisement."
In fact, Rothstein may have, at least by implication, pushed her logic
further than some commentaries noticed. In her decision she quotes the
decision of a Michigan state judge, Richard Kaufman, who found a right
to "rational suicide" whenever "a person's quality of life is
significantly impaired by a medical condition [that is] extremely
unlikely to improve." "Medical condition" is an exceedingly
comprehensive term. Everybody has one. And a condition, whether physical
or mental, inevitably impinges upon one's "quality of life." In that
case, a rational suicide would seem to be a suicide that someone
considers rational. Not necessarily, please note, the person being
killed or killing himself. Here, as some disability rights advocates
have pointed out, comes the really scary part. The Kaufman decision,
which Rothstein cites in support of her decision, invokes as authority
the notorious Buck v. Bell decision of the Supreme Court in
1927. That decision allowed involuntary sterilization of women who were
not ill but "feeble-minded." ("Three generations of imbeciles are
enough," wrote Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes in the eighty-sixth year of
his quality life.)
Not to Worry
Then there is Ronald Dworkin, a legal scholar who for years has been
helping us out with these worrying questions. Having taken up residence
at the edge of the cliff, he regularly looks into the abyss and reports
that there is nothing to worry about. In a long essay on the op-ed page
of the New York Times, he recognizes the anxiety that assisted
suicide may lead to people being pressured to die, or even to being
killed involuntarily. Not to worry. States, he says, can effectively
regulate against abuses so that the new right to assisted suicide does
not get out of hand. He draws the analogy with abortion. "It would be
wrong to think that those who are more permissive about abortion and
euthanasia are indifferent to the value of life. Rather, they disagree
about what respecting that value means. They think that in some
circumstances-when a fetus is terribly deformed, for example-abortion
may show more respect for life than childbirth."
Presumably Mr. Dworkin knows that there are 1.6 million abortions per
year in the U.S. Presumably he knows that it is not a rare incident in
extreme cases, that nearly half of all abortions are performed on women
who have had abortions before, sometimes several abortions, that it is
in many cases the contraceptive of choice and the counted-upon backstop
for sexual promiscuity and male flight from responsibility. Presumably
he also knows that, because it is declared a constitutional right, there
is no regulation of abortion, or at least no regulation that puts an
"undue burden" (Sandra Day O'Connor) on a woman's obtaining an abortion.
Presumably he knows what has happened in the Netherlands where it is now
acknowledged by all that thousands of people are involuntarily
dispatched each year, the beneficiaries of assisted "suicide." Ronald
Dworkin may be dumb, but he is not stupid. He knows all of the above.
Yet he tells us not to worry about the right to doctor-assisted suicide
because, as in the case of abortion, government regulation and
conscientious citizens will guard against abuse. He obviously thinks the
readers of the New York Times are stupid.
As for the intellectual and moral delinquencies of what is risibly
called the newspaper of record, please note how many months it has been
since we last visited the subject in these pages. We are capable of
moderate self-restraint. But the Times is, alas, pertinent to
our subject. As on every other question in the culture war, that paper's
partisan rabbling is on the side of putative progress. Name the subject-
abortion, school choice, homosexuality, the separation of religion and
public life, and did we mention abortion?-the editorial page of the
Times is the bellwether of the sectarian hard core. On such issues it is
pitted against the views of the majority of Americans, in some cases the
overwhelming majority.
There is no reason why a paper that pretends to be national has to be
"balanced," but it is remarkable that there is not even one regular
voice in the Times that reflects a sympathetic understanding of opposing
judgments. Columnists such as Anna Quindlen and Frank Rich apparently
find the abyss to their liking. William Safire is the paper's
"conservative" columnist, but he is of the libertarian persuasion and so
of little help with the things that matter most. A. M. Rosenthal bucks
the stereotype from time to time, and, in humorous ways of indirection,
Russell Baker is occasionally capable of standing back from his
colleagues' fevered orthodoxies. But, with few and rare exceptions, the
Times is untouched by bothersome nuances when it comes to what
is self-evidently correct. The paper is a daily assault of narrow and
simplistic partisanship.
The Times has been a reliable champion of Dr. Joycelyn Elders,
the Surgeon General, on everything from capital punishment for smokers
(we exaggerate, but only a little), to condom games in kindergarten (we
do not exaggerate), to the joys of gay sex. So it is no surprise that
the editorial page shares her views on assisted suicide. The day after
the Michigan Court of Appeals reinstated murder charges against Dr.
Kevorkian for his role in the deaths of two women, Elders commented that
"if Dr. Kevorkian is working with his patients and the family and this
is their decision, I do not feel I can step in the middle of that
decision. . . . I do not view Dr. Kevorkian as a criminal." She observed
that suicide is "a very difficult decision, so we probably need some
rules . . . some big global rules. But the decision has to be between
the family and that doctor." The phrase "big global rules" bears the
satisfying connotation that government-is-going-to-do-something-about-
it, while at the same time the General makes clear that nothing should
be done to place an undue burden, so to speak, on people helping their
friends and family to die.
Task Force Taken to Task
The Times' editors go far beyond the views of General Elders, however,
being positively enthusiastic about mercy killing. The enthusiasm is
enhanced by the prospect that the practice might be discovered as a
constitutional right. The Times has never come across a new
constitutional right that it did not love. Editorial zealotry was only
slightly dampened by the report of the New York State Task Force on Life
and the Law, which came out strongly opposed to doctor-assisted suicide
(on which more below). The task force raised "a number of troubling
issues," the editors admit, but they dismiss as "nightmarishly
speculative" the fears of the panel that, for instance, some patients
might be killed to save the costs of treating them. The editorial,
titled "Mercy for the Dying," confidently asserts that the concerns
raised by the panel "can be mitigated by appropriate safeguards." The
200-page report, says the Times, should be read "as a warning
to proceed carefully, not a reason to reject medically assisted
suicide." The editors urge us to "start gingerly down the road of
assisted suicide and monitor whether it leads to widespread abuse-or to
a new frontier of freedom of choice for the desperately ill."
Reading the task force report "as a warning to proceed carefully" is to
willfully misread what the task force says. After nine years of studying
the question, the twenty-four members concluded-and concluded
unanimously-that it would be "profoundly dangerous" to take even one
step in the direction urged by the Times, the Hemlock Society,
and others. "Start gingerly down the road," says the Times, and
then see whether assisted suicide leads to "widespread abuse." What
counts as abuse? Presumably, involuntary euthanasia, the denial of
appropriate care because of cost, and other practices flagged by the
task force. And how long should the monitoring go on, and how widespread
must be the abuse before it is allowed to challenge this "new frontier
of freedom of choice." How tolerant does the Times want us to
be? How many innocent people should we allow to be killed, and what is
the tolerable number of patients refused needed care, in order to
explore this enticing new frontier? Behind these questions, of course,
is the taken-for-granted assumption of the proponents of mercy killing
that suicide is immune to moral censure, being but another pro-choice
option.
The New York Task Force was established by Governor Mario Cuomo in 1985
and, while it has no legislative authority, its recommendations in the
past have carried great weight with legislators and jurists in New York
and elsewhere. The unanimous and unequivocal nature of the new report
surprised many, since the panel has in the past supported "liberal"
measures such as the patient's right to refuse intravenous feeding. Task
force members include leading advocates of patient rights who were in
this case led to the conclusion that assisted suicide would disempower
patients, especially those patients already most powerless. Legalizing
assisted suicide and euthanasia, the report said, could, among other
evils, encourage some doctors to prescribe lethal drugs rather than to
treat the pain or depression of severely ill patients. Far from these
worries being "nightmarishly speculative," the report very calmly sets
forth why, given the structure of medicine today, effective regulation
against such abuses is not possible.
Those who are sanguine about coming up with effective regulation and
guidelines typically assume that there is a "friend of the family"
relationship with the physician, and that medical decisions are made in
a personal, reasonable, and compassionate manner. That is not the
medical reality for most Americans. Even for the privileged few,
however, the task force notes that a "profound dependence characterizes
the doctor-patient relationship," and says that some patients and
families would feel they had no option if doctors recommended assisted
suicide or euthanasia. The steps being agitated in this country have
been taken in the Netherlands. In the report's very conservative reading
of the Dutch situation, it notes that one percent of all deaths there
are by involuntary euthanasia. Extrapolated to the population of the
United States, that would mean 16,000 patients per year being put to
death who did not ask to be killed. Some students of the Dutch practice
suggest that the figures for involuntary euthanasia are more than twice
those cited by the New York panel.
"No matter how carefully any guidelines are framed, assisted suicide and
euthanasia will be practiced through the prism of social inequality and
bias that characterize the delivery of services in all segments of
society, including health care," the task force says. "The risks to
already vulnerable members of our society would be extraordinary,
especially in light of the growing cost consciousness about health care.
. . . The risks would be most severe for those who are elderly, poor,
socially disadvantaged or without access to good medical care." Dr. Mark
Chassin, state commissioner of health and chairman of the task force,
says, "A humane society owes its citizens something more than a
prescription for a quick exit." Especially, one might add, when patients
are not at all interested in exiting just yet.
Always to Care
Some of the key considerations set forth by the New York Task Force on
Life and the Law are those advanced in the statement of the Ramsey
Colloquium, "Always to Care, Never to Kill" (First Things, February
1992). Very importantly, the task force report strongly supports a range
of specific measures to improve caring, especially in the relief of pain
and depression. A good deal of the agitation for assisted suicide and
euthanasia exploits the fact that many doctors do not carefully employ
palliatives that are readily available. Organizations such as the
Hemlock Society and much of the media routinely use scare tactics,
dramatically depicting dyings that are prolonged, wild, and wracked with
pain, leading many to think, understandably, that, if this is what
awaits them, suicide and euthanasia promise blessed relief.
A striking feature of the New York report is that it realistically
recognizes that there will be instances in which doctors help patients
to commit suicide. Despite the Hippocratic Oath (which is now falling
into desuetude), that has probably always happened. Such instances,
however, cannot become the basis for public policy, the task force
argues. This realistic understanding that there are some things that
are, whether we like it or not, beyond the reach of law and regulation
is deeply offensive to a certain rationalistic view of public policy.
Any gap between what is legally defined and regulated and what is done
in the real world is intolerable to some minds. "Hypocritical" is the
charge readily launched.
The thought that some people might, on the shady side of the law, have
available to them the "benefit" of assisted suicide or euthanasia while
other people do not offends the moral sensibilities of the
Times' editors who harrumph, "What a limp and unsatisfactory
solution." But of course the task force does not claim to have a
solution. Arguing from the basis of justice and prudence, the report
convincingly makes the case that the legalization of assisted suicide
and euthanasia would be profoundly wrong and dangerous. Only people who
have spent too much time staring over the cliff, bemused by the abyss
below, are capable of thinking that there is a public policy "solution"
for death and dying.
From the People in Charge of Creative Excellence
In Washington $170 million is chicken appetizer, but with that modest
budget the National Endowment for the Arts has managed to stir up quite
a ruckus from time to time. Most notoriously, there was the late Robert
Mapplethorpe's photographic exhibit with bullwhips and penises stuck
into sundry orifices. Against the perfectly understandable protest,
newspapers and television screamed censorship while refusing themselves
to show their audiences the artistic creations they so assiduously
defended and thought worthy of public funding. They did show some of
Mapplethorpe's lovely photos of flower arrangements, which had
absolutely nothing to do with the controversy. Then there was the other
much-remarked incident in which the NEA established that it is
permissible to exhibit a crucifix in public and at taxpayer's expense,
so long as it is immersed in urine.
The New York Times recently did a big two-page spread on four
performance artists who were refused grants or lost grants during the
1990 brouhaha over NEA. Grants have been restored, with apologies, by
the Clinton Administration. One of the artists talks dirty on stage
while smearing herself with what looks like the unmentionable, while the
other three are homosexual and specialize in assaulting America's
homophobia. John Fleck complains, "I became known as the man who
masturbated on stage and urinated on the Bible." The Times sets
things straight: "He simulated masturbation, and he did urinate on
stage, but not on a Bible." Well, that puts things in an entirely
different light. The story continues: "'My work was constantly misquoted
and taken out of context,' Mr. Fleck says. The aspects of his
performances that were most likely to offend some segments of his
audience seemed to be the only ones ever mentioned." That may say
something about other aspects of his performance, although masturbating
and urinating on stage probably does tend to distract attention from
what one is trying to say. Mr. Fleck was very disappointed with his
appearance on "The Oprah Winfrey Show." "I was basically introduced as
the man who deals with homosexual issues and other skits. I was the sort
of avant-garde freak and was made to feel like a disgusting pervert
leeching on the taxpayers' money." It seems Ms. Winfrey's show has some
educational value after all.
Another of the four, Holly Hughes, writes plays celebrating lesbianism.
One play is titled The Well of Horniness, and of her newest
work the Times says that "its title includes a slang term for
the clitoris," but the Times isn't telling us what the term is.
The Times isn't that kind of paper, or maybe they think we're
not ready to know, but there is no doubt that the play is bold and
deserving of tax support. Says Ms. Hughes, "My work has always been
about publicly representing or revealing a lesbian experience. My desire
has been to have it seen outside of a specifically lesbian context-to
become visible, to leave the ghetto, to not be marginalized." In other
words, Ms. Hughes would like to be rich and famous. She goes on about
how awful Americans are for not properly rewarding her for telling them
how awful they are. The story says that her saddest experience of recent
years has been her father's death in Michigan last summer. She
complains, "A third of his obituary unfortunately was about me."
Somebody has to pay the price for her becoming "visible." The story
concludes: "Ms. Hughes received a $9,375 NEA grant this year. It is her
third grant from the agency since 1990."
The same week as the Times story on these victims of
censorship, the Economist ran a puff piece on Jane Alexander,
Clinton's chairman of the NEA. She takes seriously the criticisms of the
NEA, although the Economist is glad to say that she is not
neglecting her artistic constituents, noting her defense of a grant to
"an HIV-positive artist whose performance involves bloodletting and
ritual scarring." Ms. Alexander says the NEA should be less elitist and
should, for instance, encourage art as a way of addressing problems in
urban schools. Helen Brunner, head of the National Associaton of Artists
Organizations, says that the NEA needs to "create a balance between
education and creative excellence." Ms. Brunner says, "They need to be
sure they don't throw the baby out with the bath water." As for
combatting urban turmoil with art, she observes, "You can't solve all
the ills in this country with $170 million." One can tell from the way
they think and talk that these are people who know a lot about creative
excellence.
Jews, Christians, and "The Great Fear"
It is a sad thing to see a considerable talent wasted. Joseph Sobran has
considerable talent, as was evident for many years in his writings
for National Review, the Human Life Review, and in his
own syndicated column. We get asked what happened to Joe Sobran. The
publicly relevant answer is that in his writing he became ever more
abrasively strident about what he views as the sinister influence of
Jews in American life, and the alleged captivity of U.S. foreign policy
to the "Jewish lobby" working on behalf of Israel. For a long time,
friends tried to help Sobran get over this fixation, and nobody tried
harder than William F. Buckley of National Review. Sobran took
such efforts as evidence that his erstwhile friends, too, were under the
spell of what he calls the "invisible" Jewish influence. In the past
year Sobran has published vicious attacks against Buckley and others who
he claims have succumbed to "The Great Fear," meaning fear of
displeasing the Jews.
The subject of anti-Semitism is weary and wearying. The dynamics that
impel it are sordid and debased, and those who get involved in the
discussion of it risk being soiled. A good argument can be made for
simply averting one's eyes, for not lifting the rock to see what is
underneath. But Sobran's writings are not under a rock. They appear in
publications that cannot be lightly dismissed as entirely beyond the
fringe, and have led even sensible people to observe that, while they do
not necessarily agree with him, you have to give Sobran credit for
having the "courage" to say things that others are afraid to mention.
Typical is a recent column titled "The Great Fear" in which Sobran
observes, "There is little active hostility to Jews in America, which is
as it should be. But there is also very little public criticism of
Jewish politics, which is another matter." In politics and the news
media, says Sobran, Buckley and others (whom he derisively calls
"Judaeo-Christians") are effectively silenced by the threat of being
charged with anti-Semitism, a charge "dreaded like Jove's thunderbolts."
Thus the media say little or nothing about Jews who committed treason
for the Soviet Union or Israel because that would raise "sensitive
questions about Jewish loyalties and their consequences for America."
Jews, writes Sobran, can bash the Christian right and Catholic Church to
their hearts' content, while "the organized though amorphous Jewish
power" intimidates Christians into a "craven conduct" that he describes
as "toadying to Jews."
Then there is this in parenthesis: "(It is of course important to bear
in mind that most Jews aren't responsible for this, and it is morally
and intellectually wrong to blame them indiscriminately; but I assume I
am speaking to grownup Christians here.)" He lets off the hook "Jews who
were ready to help me when some of my Judaeo-Christian friends were in
full flight" after the unpleasantness with Buckley. But the more general
Jewish reality is something else, according to Sobran. "Bill in effect
warned me that Jewish power would try to wreck my career if I didn't
shut up. I didn't and it did." It is this "Jewish power" that Sobran has
in mind when he writes, "American public disclosure is being quietly and
constantly warped by unseen pressures." His conclusion: "The older I
get, the more I am impressed by this pervasive fear of the Jews-or
rather, pervasive in some critical power centers, unfelt in other
places. It is a huge factor, invisible and incalculable, in American
culture and politics."
"Amorphous," "pervasive," "invisible"-it is all very sinister. In
defense of Sobran, someone might point out that he is not saying that
the influence of Jews is sinister; it is the fear of the
influence of Jews that is sinister. But that would be entirely
disingenuous. Sobran's claim is that Jewish power is feared because
Jewish power is fearful. Not for nothing do those who know what's good
for them engage in the "craven conduct" of "toadying to Jews." Few and
brave are those who, like Joe Sobran, dare to speak the truth and let
the chips fall where they may.
Persisting Puzzlements
When faced by screeds such as Sobran's, attention must be paid. Not too
much attention, and not too often, but anti-Semitism-although the term
has been cheapened by careless use-remains a legitimate and serious
concern. All the evidence indicates that anti-Semitism is a small and
declining phenomenon in America. Jews are secure in America, not chiefly
because of Jewish organizations waging war on anti-Semites, but because
of the generously extended good will of the Christian majority. Yet it
would be beyond belief were there not problems inherent in a
circumstance where only 2 percent of the population is Jewish and close
to 90 percent identify themselves as Christian. In the light of
historical experience and the balance of communal interests, it is not
paranoid for Jews to worry about their security, although there are no
doubt Jewish paranoids. At the same time, and despite their good will
and firm rejection of anti-Semitism, many Christians are puzzled by
aspects of Jewish influence in our public life. That puzzlement provides
an opportunity for exploitation by those who really are anti-Semites.
The puzzlement is not about the remarkable success of Jews in American
life. Anti-Semites speak in sinister terms about the disproportionate
(they say "inordinate") number of Jews in high places, as though they
were revealing dark secrets. Most Americans are unperturbed by the large
number of Jews at the top levels of, for instance, the news and
entertainment media, the medical and legal professions, and prestigious
centers of higher education. Far from being resentful, most Christians
are admiring of Jewish success, attributing it, variously, to superior
intelligence, determination, or God's election of Israel. The
puzzlement, and the opportunity for anti-Semitic exploitation, is in the
perception of Jews as being militantly secularist and hostile to
Christian sensibilities and moral convictions.
This puzzlement is not new, but it is being exacerbated today. Religious
Jews are more keenly aware than anyone of the inroads of secularism in
American Jewry. Orthodox and Conservative leaders have long worried
about the loss of Jewish "identity," and today they are joined by many
Reform leaders, although in the case of the last "identity" would seem
to be more a matter of tribe than Torah. Sobran and his like break no
new ground when they point out that Jewish organizations frequently feel
free to attack Christian groups-especially evangelical Protestant and
Catholic-with impunity, while crying "anti-Semitism" in response to any
criticism of Jews. The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), to take an
obvious example, is very largely directed by secular Jews and is
committed to a militantly secularizing course in law and public policy.
One is quite free, however, to say that the ACLU is grotesquely wrong
without indulging in reckless talk about the "invisible and
incalculable" influences of "amorphous Jewish power."
Another recent example is a book published by the Anti-Defamation League
of B'nai B'rith (ADL), The Religious Right: The Assault on Tolerance
& Pluralism in America. The book is a vicious attack, a slash-and-
burn job, on evangelical Protestants involved in conservative politics.
It is a very bad thing for an anti-defamation league to engage in
defamation. The book includes some smarmy allowances that, of course,
these conservative Christians have a right to participate in the
political process, but the message is that their religious fanaticism is
aimed at destroying that process. The Religious Right is a
shameful book that has no plausible purpose other than advancing the
liberal Democratic goal of turning politically conservative Christians
into a pariah group and thus forcing the Republican Party to distance
itself from a large part of its natural constituency. In short, in this
book the ADL is playing political games with religious bigotry.
It is noteworthy that a substantial number of prominent Jews have
protested the ADL defamation very strongly and very publicly. These
Jewish voices point out that it is ludicrous and self-destructive for an
organization representing but a fraction of the fraction of the
population that is Jewish to, in effect, declare war on millions of
Christians because it disagrees with their political positions. They
also note, not so incidentally, that evangelical Protestants have over
the years been among the strongest backers of U.S. support for Israel.
In addition, the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE) has
protested the ADL smear in no uncertain terms. This, contra the Sobrans,
hardly fits a pattern of "toadying to Jews." Beyond the ADL's
misrepresentation of Christian political activism, the NAE is rightly
indignant because it has in recent years cooperated with the ADL in a
dialogue aimed at building greater trust and understanding between
evangelicals and Jews. In such a dialogue, both sides risk some tension
with their own constituencies. With the publication of The Religious
Right, ADL seems to leave no doubt that, when it comes to a choice
between partisan politics and Christian-Jewish understanding, partisan
politics wins hands down.
Jewish Rethinkings
The Jewish community is hardly monolithic. Indeed, there is considerable
ambiguity in the term "community." Sixty percent of Jews in the U.S.
have no connection with any Jewish organization, religious or secular.
And among the organizations there are very significant differences. At
its annual meeting in Washington this year, the American Jewish
Committee (AJC) invited this writer to address a plenary session on the
role of Jews in American public life. We presented as candidly and
persuasively as we could our by now familiar argument that the naked
public square-public life devoid of religion and religiously based moral
argument-is a dangerous place for everybody, and especially for
minorities. There was no trimming of the contention that, for the last
half century, major Jewish organizations had made a grave mistake by
uncritically identifying with an extreme "strict separationist" line on
the place of religion in our public life. In response, the AJC did not,
of course, promptly do a volte-face on these questions, but the message
was respectfully engaged, indicating a measure of openness to rethinking
how Jews ought to be disposed toward the religio-cultural circumstances
of American life.
Those who associate the entirety of American Jewry with the aggressive
secularism of the ACLU need to be alerted to such intense debates going
on among Jewish Americans. For instance, American Jews & the
Separationist Faith: The New Debate on Religion in Public Life,
edited by David G. Dalin (Ethics and Public Policy Center), includes
forty Jewish thinkers reflecting, often in quite fresh ways, on how Jews
and Christians should define their interests and obligations in the
American social order. All this hardly fits Sobran's complaint. He
writes: "It would be one thing if we simply had an explicit rule that
criticism of Israel and Jewish political power is taboo. But an open
taboo is almost a contradiction in terms: The essence of a taboo is the
pretense that no subject is really being avoided, that (so to speak)
there is no subject there. The power is immensely increased
because it goes unmentioned, unmeasured, uncriticized. You can't even
talk back to it if you can't talk about it." One obvious
response is that Joe Sobran, alas, is talking about it. A problem with
his talking about it is his pretense that many others, Christians and
Jews, are not talking about it. Another important difference is that,
unlike Sobran, they are talking about it not in order to sow resentment
and suspicion but to build a more secure foundation for an American
future in which Jews and Christians can flourish together.
Sobran is very particularly exercised that the Jewish cabal permits no
criticism of Israel. What does this man read? Most of the publications
of the political left are incessantly critical of Israel and its
policies. Establishmentarians such as Tony Lewis, columnist of the
New York Times, bash Israel and its alleged oppression of its
neighbors with a regularity that suggests they have but to punch a key
on the computer to produce the standard paragraphs of polemic. To be
sure, those who criticize Israel get criticized in turn, but they do not
get dragged off to the gulag, and, so far as we can see, their careers,
far from being "wrecked," are doing very nicely, thank you. Admittedly,
there is a limit. Those who criticize Israel and U.S. policy toward
Israel must give believable evidence that they really care about the
security of Israel. What security means in terms of specific policies is
eminently debatable, but writers who seem not to care, who seem to be
hostile to the very existence of Israel, are viewed as being beyond the
pale, and rightly so. There is a taboo and, contra Sobran, it is open,
explicit, and morally imperative. Among decent people, the imperative to
guard against the possible destruction of three million more Jews is not
an open question. If that be censorship, it is but another good argument
for censorship. Moreover, it is unseemly for people who knowingly
violate taboos to complain that there is a price to be paid.
Sobran presents himself as a serious Catholic, and his ruminations
appear each week in the Wanderer, an influential publication on
the Catholic right. His flirtation with anti-Semitic language and
sentiment cannot be squared with Catholic teaching on the connection
between Jews and Christians. Or perhaps he thinks the Church, and this
Pope in particular, are guilty of "toadying to Jews." As was already
suggested by Pius XII, if we are Christians at all, we are Judeo-
Christians. There is no way to be Christian other than in relationship
to the covenant with Abraham and with those whom John Paul II has
repeatedly called "our elder brothers" in Living Judaism.
Jews and Christians are providentially entangled with one another.
Because many Jews and many Christians do not understand that, the
relationship will continue to be very difficult at times. We in America
have a historically unique opportunity-and therefore obligation-to
construct bonds of understanding conducive to the civil and spiritual
flourishing of Christians and Jews alike. Nowhere else in the world are
there enough Christians and Jews so situated as to be able to redefine
their relationship in obedience to the God of Israel. Christians should
indeed be motivated by "The Great Fear"-not the fear of allegedly
sinister Jewish power, but the fear of betraying a moment of opportunity
and obligation that has never happened before and, if betrayed, may
never happen again.
While We're At It
- Reliably picking up on the latest, the Doonesbury strip of June 8
has a homosexual character assert, "For 1,000 years the Church
sanctioned rituals for homosexual marriages." His friend responds, "Oh
well, sure, Catholics. They have a ritual for everything." For many
things, but not for that. The strip is informed, so to speak, by John
Boswell's latest book contending that Christianity, before its fall into
homophobia, had a benign view of homosexual relations. The book will be
receiving critical notice in a forthcoming issue. As for the credibility
of Dr. Boswell in the community of scholars, readers might want to
consult "In the Case of John Boswell" (March 1994). There is a ritual
for cartoonists who propagandize on behalf of immoral behavior.
(Confessions are heard at noon, five p.m., and by appointment.)
- Russell Kirk had been ill for several months. A friend tells us
that, on the night before his death, Russell requested a book from the
library for bedtime reading. He asked for All's Well That Ends
Well. The phrase "death with dignity" is much abused, but sometimes
it seems appropriate.
- Just when you thought you had read everything you need to read
about the infamous and incoherent Supreme Court decision in Planned
Parenthood v. Casey, along comes this 122-page blockbuster by Paul
Benjamin Linton in Saint Louis University Public Law Review
(Vol. XIII, No. 1). Scholars and those involved in abortion-related
litigation can obtain a copy from Americans United for Life, 343 S.
Dearborn St., Chicago, IL 60604.
- "STOP JOB DISCRIMINATION AGAINST LESBIAN AND GAY AMERICANS."
That's the heading of a full-page ad in the New Republic signed
by many prominent citizens. Among the religious figures signing on:
Bishop Edmond L. Browning (Episcopal Church), Bishop Herbert W.
Chilstrom (ELCA Lutheran), William Sloane Coffin, Bishop Thomas
Gumbleton (Detroit), Rabbi Alexander M. Schindler (Union of American
Hebrew Congregations), and President Paul Sherry (United Church of
Christ). The statement calls for federal laws prohibiting discrimination
against gays and lesbians in the workplace. Presumably, "workplace"
would include religious institutions. And inevitably, as recent history
demonstrates, laws against discrimination will require goals and quotas
that must be met as evidence that an organization is not discriminating.
There is every reason to suppose that those who signed the statement
know that and have no problems with it. The statement was sponsored by
the Human Rights Campaign Fund, a leading political lobby of the
homosexual movement.
- In the last couple of years, one group that has been showing up at
pro-life rallies takes all sides by a bit of surprise. It is called the
Pro-Life Alliance of Gays and Lesbians (PLAGAL) and their literature
represents a distinctive take on why Americans should rally to the
defense of the vulnerable. Reports are that PLAGAL activists have been
generously received by other pro-lifers, despite emphatic disagreement
about homosexuality. For information, write PLAGAL, P.O. Box 33292,
Washington, D.C. 20033.
- The conventional claim of any group aspiring to official victim
status is that they are not seeking remedy by quota system; they only
want to end discrimination against them. Some of those who make that
claim may honestly believe it, but, regrettably, in today's world of
victim entitlements it is nonsense. Catholic Charities of San Francisco
may lose $1.5 million in AIDS contracts because its board of directors
balked at a city requirement that its members disclose their sexual
orientation. City officials say that the rule ensures that service
providers are sympathetic to their target populations. Catholic
Charities says that the sexual orientation of board and staff members is
a private matter. The organization follows a "don't ask, don't tell"
policy. This does not satisfy the city. You have to prove that you don't
discriminate. You prove it by having the requisite number of gays on
your board and staff. If you do not have the requisite number, you must
agree to a "good faith goal," a.k.a. a quota. It follows that you must
discriminate in order to prove that you do not discriminate. Because the
city is so concerned about being sensitive to the target population, it
is holding up a $412,000 contract for a residential program that
provides care for homeless and destitute AIDS patients. Those who suffer
by the program's loss may take satisfaction in knowing that their loss
is the gain of homosexuals who want jobs with Catholic Charities. Or,
more likely, want to take over Catholic Charities. All in the name of
sensitivity, to be sure. Be sensitive or I'll put you out of business.
- "But, clearly, we continue to move forward and upward as a people
and a state." That from Mario Cuomo's new book, The New York Idea:
An Experiment in Democracy (Crown). There is much more like that.
For instance: "Without the willingness to see our own good in the good
of the whole community, we will not achieve all we should. We cannot
afford to lose the next generation to drugs, or AIDS, or inadequate
education-even if they're not your children, or mine, they are our
children. There can be no separate city. No man is an island. No woman.
No race. No neighborhood. No town. No state. No nation. Our future will
be determined by how well we bring together all the parts. From our
uncertain origins, through billions of years of evolution that still
remain largely a mystery, a chain of life has connected the countless
fragments of the universe, reconciling apparent contradictions. From
water came vegetation, evolving into new and more complex forms,
eventually into living organisms, the higher forms of life, and finally
to human beings-with minds, souls, the capacity to think and then to
think better. Out of a struggle for survival, human beings,
understanding their need for one another, came together, creating clans,
tribes, villages, then nations and whole civilizations, progressing in
fits and starts, inexorably toward the light." In his stirring
conclusion this politician who journalists hail as the closest we have
seen in a long time to the ideal of the philosopher king urges us "to
live by the sweet wisdom that E. B. White offered us years ago: 'New
York is to the nation what the white church spire is to the village-the
visible symbol of aspiration and faith, the white plume saying the way
is up.' Excelsior!" One suspects that most Americans, and perhaps most
New Yorkers, would have some rather imaginative suggestions as to what
the Governor might do with his plume. In any event, as of this writing
it appears that Cuomo will be reelected to his 26th term, or whatever it
is. The Republican ticket, except for Herb London as Comptroller, is on
Cuomo's side with respect to abortion and other issues in the culture
war. London is also on the Right to Life line and, if he gets enough
votes there, he would be the highest elected Republican in state
government. Observers point out that he would then be in a position to
reshape a party that could seriously challenge the knight of the white
plume. But how we would miss what the journalistic herd persists in
describing as Mario Cuomo's mastery of rhetoric.
- The Pope John Center in Braintree, Mass., sponsors this annual
gathering of bishops and makes available tapes of presentations by
notables-including, this year, Hadley Arkes, Michael Medved, Joyce
Little, Fr. Augustine DiNoia, and this writer. The theme is "Celebrating
the Year of the Family." For more information, write Leila Harrington
Little, Pope John Center, 186 Forbes Road, Braintree, MA 02184.
- As the Rwanda catastrophe ground on from day to day, it seemed
unlikely the news would bring anything new. One's mind becomes
coarsened. You've seen one genocide you've seen them all. But then there
was this. It was not exactly new, being but a story on another thousand
or so people slaughtered, Tutsis hacked to death by Hutus. A reporter,
Ian Fisher, caught up with some of the survivors at a camp. He reports,
"There were very few women and no infants. 'They could not run fast
enough with the children, so they were the first to be killed,' said
Eric Nzabihimana, 28, a teacher, who said his parents and five brothers
and sisters had been killed." The women with the children could not run
fast enough, so they were killed. Mr. Nzabihimana explained, "We have
had nothing to eat, so we had no strength to defend ourselves or to
run." But that does not really explain. The men did have the strength to
run, and they ran. They did leave the women and children behind to fend
for themselves, to be killed. Confronted by unimaginable horror, who of
us can know for sure what he would do? But it seems unimaginable that
one would explain to a stranger, in a manner matter of fact, that the
reason the women and children were killed is that they couldn't run as
fast as we could. "Maybe," one can all too easily imagine Mr.
Nzabihimana continuing, "the women could have run as fast but, you see,
they had to take care of the children. Well, we all know how women are,
they wouldn't leave the children behind to be killed, you see. They're
not like us, are they, sir?" That one sentence-"They could not run fast
enough with the children, so they were the first to be killed"-made for
hard praying that day.
- The Forward is a self-consciously secular Jewish paper,
but upon his death it had some appreciative things to say about Rebbe
Menachem Schneerson, whom many Lubavitchers hoped would be the Moshiach,
or Messiah. The editorial concludes with this: "There's a lot of talk
about a crisis of confidence in the Lubavitcher community now that the
man many believed to have been the Messiah has passed on. Our own hope
is that they stand their ground and continue to place their faith in
America." Thou shalt have no other gods before it.
- "Church attendance is notoriously over-reported as a socially
desirable activity, so true attendance figures are surely lower than
those reported," says Humphrey Taylor, president of the Louis Harris
poll. This is one of several challenges in the past year to what is
thought to be one of the most stable social factors in American life:
four out of ten adult Americans attend church or synagogue each week.
Interestingly, the Harris poll makes much of their finding that the
number of adults saying they attended at least weekly dropped from 51
percent in 1986 to 43 percent in 1994. In the polling that it has been
doing since the 1930s, Gallup never had a figure as high as 51 percent
and only in 1989 was it 43 percent for weekly attendance. The difference
is that Gallup does not just ask people whether they go to church weekly
but asks about a very specific week, and Gallup asks the question
several times during the year in order to adjust for seasonal changes.
Stung by those who claim that respondents say they went to church when
they didn't, Gallup tested a more stringent question, asking people to
name the church or synagogue they had attended within the last seven
days. In response to the standard question, the figure was 41 percent,
while it was 40 percent in response to the more stringent question,
which is not a statistically meaningful difference. Gallup stands by its
six decades of research on this question, and offers some thoughts on
why some people persist in challenging it: "Whether or not you happen to
be one of the four persons in ten who does attend pretty much depends
upon who you are and where you are. Most reporters for the national
media, for example, tend to be young, live in large cities like New York
or Los Angeles, and when they do attend services they usually go to
places where the congregation is largely white. That is a fairly good
profile of the people least likely to attend worship services."
Realities are very different in the South and Southwest, in smaller
cities and rural areas, and among blacks and more traditional ethnic
communities. The Gallup data and explanation are persuasive. The
confusion would seem to arise from the circumstance that those who tell
us that "the times they are a'changing" and consider themselves to be
the experts on what they claim is a rapidly changing society just cannot
abide the fact that something so fundamental as church attendance
stubbornly refuses to change.
- Of course it is very gratifying that First Things has more readers
who actually pay to get it than any other publication in the country
that deals in a serious way with religion and society. But libraries are
also a very important part of the support base for a publication. Public
libraries, college libraries, departmental libraries, parish libraries,
any kind of library. For publications that have been around for seventy-
five years or more, libraries are sometimes the most important part of
their subscription base. We've only been around for five years. We hope
and expect that most of the readers of FT will continue to be individual
subscribers. But the really nice thing about library subscriptions is
that they tend to renew automatically without requiring additional
promotional costs on the part of the publication. The difficult thing
about library subscriptions is that libraries don't subscribe unless
they get requests for a particular publication. And that, obviously, is
where you come in. Most of our readers have some connection with a
library that is not but should be subscribing to FT. Please call, drop a
note, winsomely request, adamantly demand, or launch a protest
demonstration to get a librarian of your acquaintance to subscribe
today. We thank you. Our circulation manager thanks you. Your fellow
readers who count on the flourishing of this journal thank you. That's a
lot of thanks.
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Leadership U. All rights reserved.
Updated: 13 July 2002
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