Christian Nation Page 7

  Emilie interrupted. “Greg, that can’t be legal, can it? I mean, you cannot pull your kids from school and fill their heads with bloody nonsense. Why doesn’t someone do something?”

  Even though Emilie had addressed the question to me, Sanjay answered.

  “No, it is perfectly legal, and the Christian right defends home schooling most energetically. The Home School Legal Defense Association litigates anything that could limit the right of parents to cut their children off from mainstream society and fill their minds with superstition and hate. I believe it is child abuse, I really do. In America last year more than a billion dollars was spent on homeschooling texts. These texts are increasingly political, emphasizing a Christianized American history, with little basis in fact, to emphasize the divine destiny of America. Wait—”

  Sanjay pulled a wad of paper scraps from a pocket.

  “Did you know that much of this is not online? I spent today at the library. They actually have these homeschooling books. Here’s the one I remembered from a high-school-level history text. I was really struck by this: ‘Who, knowing the facts of our history, can doubt that the United States of America has been a thought in the mind of God from all eternity.’ I mean, talk about American exceptionalism. The essential lesson of history is that America was invented by God for the sole purpose of being the vehicle by which godly Christian rule will be imposed on the earth in preparation for the second coming. Just think, please, what it will mean for our futures if one in ten American children believes this absolutely.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Emilie. “One in ten? That’s not so bad. Has there been any time in American history when at least ten percent of our people haven’t been utter lunatics?”

  “Perhaps,” answered Sanjay. “That is an interesting perspective. But I fear that this may be something different. That their influence may be greater than their numbers. The evangelicals call these cadres of homeschooled children Generation Joshua after the military commander of Moses. You know, the one that marched seven times around the walls of Jericho? That’s what they call them, GenJ for short. A generation of little soldiers. There is a homeschooling video titled Putting on the Whole Armor of God, which asks, ‘Boys, are you ready for warfare?’—and they mean warfare against secularism and warfare to obtain control of all civil institutions. And when they are teenagers, these kids are made to join GenJ clubs that focus on political action. They are organized by congressional district, and they do things like getting their older brothers and sisters to register to vote. And in addition to homeschooling, Mr. Rushdoony promoted the organization of the Christian so-called colleges, like Patrick Henry.”

  At this point George, who had been extremely quiet, interrupted. “I was a White House intern.”

  This seemed to be a non sequitur. We all looked at him, puzzled.

  “I had never heard of Patrick Henry College. But during 2004, my year at the White House, 7 percent of all the White House interns were from Patrick Henry.”

  Sanjay looked at George with new interest. “How do you know that?”

  “We calculated it from the intern program facebook. It tells you where all the other interns went to college. Almost one in ten—for perhaps the most competitive position for young people in Washington—were from the same small school we had never heard of.”

  “And a school whose stated purpose is to train ‘warriors to take back the land,’ ” Sanjay reminded us. “I suppose the White House is a good place to start.”

  “It wasn’t just the White House,” said George. “Evangelicals are everywhere in Washington. There are prayer cells in the Senate and almost every federal department. My year there was a bit of a scandal because senior civilian and military leaders at the Pentagon appeared in a video for a group called Christian Embassy talking about the platform that their jobs provided for doing evangelical work. But lots of people were not even surprised, and it blew over quickly. Many federally paid congressional junkets are really evangelistic missions. I went to a talk by a congressman who described a recent trip to Africa by saying he was there to represent the Lord, that he went to tell the people about Jesus. I was surprised by that.”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “That’s hard to believe. Not with federal funds. That wouldn’t be legal.”

  “G, you are not often naïve, but you have been working hard,” Sanjay said.

  I gave him a dirty look.

  George continued. “Not only are public displays of religion ubiquitous in the military and civilian services, but federal money is flowing directly to evangelical causes in large amounts. When I was at the White House, we bragged to the base that we dedicated a billion dollars for abstinence education alone, with the result that a third of US public schools have so-called sex education that teaches only abstinence. And this solely for reasons of religious doctrine. You know about Bush’s so-called faith-based initiative, which seems fairly innocent in its funding of church-affiliated social service agencies doing charitable work, and yes, sometimes more efficiently than the federal government. But you know I discovered that there are faith-based offices not only in the Department of Health and Human Services but also in Education, Commerce, and many other agencies. Why? There is no conceivable proper reason.”

  Sanjay was listening intently but stayed quiet. George continued.

  “How much of this money do you think goes to Presbyterian churches or Catholic congregations or synagogues? Virtually none. And did you know that evangelical and Pentecostal churches, which receive nearly all faith-based funding, are free to discriminate against non-Christians and gays on the grounds that it would conflict with their own religious freedom if they were not free to do so? I found that strange.”

  “Where the hell is the New York Times?” asked Emilie.

  “You know,” answered George, “they do sometimes cover these things. We just don’t always notice, or quite believe it. I mean, Emilie, really, Sanjay is right. None of this is news to anyone who lives in DC or works in the federal government. People are almost beyond noticing; it’s—sorry to use a cliché—the ‘new normal.’ ”

  “So did it bother you?” asked Sanjay.

  George answered carefully. “I was brought up to respect people and be tolerant of differences. I try not to be too judgmental. I always thought that devout religiosity was something to be admired, not feared. But after 9/11, I started to see parallels between Islamic fundamentalism and what I had seen in DC. And yes, as a gay person I felt threatened by their … well, I felt there could be some real hatred there. I was not ‘out’ when I was at the White House, so …”

  Sanjay looked thoughtful and then smiled warmly at George. Emilie was suddenly looking pleased.

  “You know,” continued George, “I just remembered another thing that did surprise me. Do you know who I was told had a weekly conference call with the White House while I was there? Ted Haggard. I mean, every Monday. I don’t think anyone else did, except maybe Cheney.”

  “Wait,” asked Emilie, “which one is Haggard? Is he the one who tried to get a blow job in the Minneapolis airport?”

  “No,” answered Sanjay. “He’s the crusader against gay marriage, married with children, who was accused in a scandal involving allegations of drug use and gay sex. He was head of the National Association of Evangelicals, representing forty-five thousand churches with thirty million members, and pastor of the New Life Church—a mega-church in Colorado Springs with over twelve thousand parishioners. And a confidant of the US president.”

  “Yes,” added George. “You know that most of the evangelical leaders who get caught just say the devil made them do it, that they regret their sin, and that they now accept Jesus totally and that Jesus has forgiven them. Their fellow pastors usually cry ‘alleluia!’ and let them be. But the Haggard case was unusually egregious. He lost his job.”

  “Well, George,” Emilie responded, “I hope all this talk of gay sex has put you in the mood.”

  Sanjay rescued h
im by interrupting, “Emilie, I am very happy that you have introduced me to George.”

  Until the next day, we didn’t know whether that meant that Sanjay was happy to have met George as a source or whether he had taken Emilie’s bait. Emilie called me the next day at the office with the news that Sanjay had spent the night at George’s apartment. She was very pleased with herself. I should have called Sanjay but didn’t, and then got deeply immersed in a deal and didn’t speak to Sanjay again for a couple of weeks.

  He and George were together for almost a year, and it always seemed highly improbable to me that Sanjay was dating a banker. But I recall George as a thoughtful and gentle person, and as sympathetic and supportive of Sanjay as he could be, given his own work life. When they finally split up, I was sorry for Sanjay but not surprised. I realize now that I never really liked George, but I cannot put my finger on why. I do wonder now, writing these words and thinking about the man for the first time in many years, where he is today. I never saw him in New York during the siege. He was not at Governors Island. Had he married and kept his position as a banker? It was possible. Or fled to Canada or Sweden after 2016? He certainly would have had the money to get a visa. Or perhaps I’m not giving him enough credit. Perhaps he fought with us and died, or languishes even today in one of the gay reorientation camps scattered in remote locations around the country.

  When John McCain picked Sarah Palin to be his running mate in the summer of 2008, Sanjay was so agitated that he founded a not-for-profit organization to pursue his interest in spotlighting the growing political aspirations of the Christian right. I helped him get his tax-exempt status from the IRS, and strongly advised against the name he was considering, Theocracy Watch.

  “Theocracy,” I argued, “is an egghead word. Ordinary people don’t know what it means. And besides, it doesn’t sound all that bad—kind of like ‘democracy.’ Also, ‘watch’ is too passive. Who wants to support an organization that only watches? You need to use a word like ‘campaign’—something active.”

  Sanjay usually took all my advice seriously, so I really needed to be careful about what I said. He was earnest and apologetic when he told me he was sticking with Theocracy Watch.

  “Sorry, G. Your points are excellent ones, and I considered them carefully. But there is no good synonym for theocracy. It is exactly the right word. All the alternatives suggest that I object to religion in general, or to religious people exercising political power, or to the advocacy of morality in politics or civil life. I do not oppose any of these things. The only problem I have is with a state where law and policy are based on divine revelation, and government officials purport to speak for God—a theocracy. And it is a ‘watch’—the purpose of my organization will be to watch and report. It will not be a campaign. I do not want to be politically active. I want to watch and then shine a spotlight on what they say and what they want. Only that is necessary. The people and the democratic political process will take care of the rest.”

  And so, in the fall of 2008, Theocracy Watch was born, and what Emilie liked to call Sanjay’s “hobby” became his full-time job.

  At the same time, he sold You and I to a tech fund for $400 million. The closing was only three weeks before the collapse of Lehman Brothers, and Sanjay put all the cash into treasury bills. He was now, without “striving,” wealthy beyond anything he could have imagined, or anything that I could hope to attain, even as a successful Wall Street lawyer. At the time I thought it highly ironic that he owed his fortune to the Alaska governor who worshiped at a dominionist-influenced church in Wasilla where worshipers spoke in tongues, who did not read books, and who epitomized the woeful ignorance of much of the extreme evangelical subculture. But for Sarah Palin being yanked from deserved obscurity, Sanjay would not have sold You and I before the market crash, would have labored in noble poverty, and would never have had the resources to mount the vigorous campaign he did against the theocratic effort. From that point in time, the fates of Sanjay and Sarah Palin were closely intertwined.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sarah

  2008

  It is not the forces of darkness but of shallowness that everywhere threaten the true, and the good, and the beautiful, and that ironically announce themselves as deep and profound. It is an exuberant and fearless shallowness that everywhere is the modern danger, the modern threat, and that everywhere nonetheless calls to us as savior.

  —Ken Wilber,

  Sex, Ecology, Spirituality

  She absolutely believes these are what the evangelicals call the Last Days. She absolutely believes … that the earth is six thousand years old and that dinosaurs and man once lived together. And she absolutely believes that Jesus will return to earth during the course of her life. These beliefs are at the core of everything she says and does. She is locked into that worldview. If you don’t appreciate how totally she is governed by these beliefs, you’ll never understand Sarah Palin. Sarah feels chosen. She feels called…. She knows herself to be on a mission from God…. [I]f you’re on a mission from God to destroy evil, there are going to be all kinds of expendables along the way. Collateral damage.

  —Rev. Howard Bess, quoted in Joe McGinniss,

  The Rogue: Searching for the Real Sarah Palin

  I want to be invisible. I do guerilla warfare. I paint my face and travel at night. You don’t know it’s over until you’re in a body bag.

  —Ralph Reed, 1991

  HALF THE NATION WAS DISAPPOINTED when the dream of an Obama presidency died. Although the popular vote was close, 51 percent to 49 percent, the entire nation was relieved that there was no replay of the electoral litigation drama of 2000. And though I had voted for Obama, I was content with the outcome. I believed that McCain was fundamentally a good man: experienced, independent, and well intentioned. I was hopeful that the McCain administration might even bring us a few years without the bitter partisan divide that characterized the Clinton and Bush years. Moreover, the continuing financial crisis was truly scary, and despite McCain’s apparent lack of economic savvy, I assumed that the Republicans would nonetheless be better stewards of financial markets and the economy. But none of us could have anticipated the bizarre way in which the McCain administration began and ended, or the disastrous start to Sarah Palin’s presidency.

  The Palin factor had weighed on the minds of many Republicans during the election, myself included. Most of the Republicans I knew—the moderate types found in New York—believed that John McCain either had been careless to the point of negligence or had made a distasteful but perhaps clever bargain with the right wing of his party. It was a difficult subject to discuss. All Democrats, and a few of my Republican friends who had particular reasons to know something about Palin, were disdainful and, I could tell, genuinely disturbed by McCain’s choice of her. For them, politics seemed to have turned a corner. Never before had someone as ignorant, naïve, uncultured, and unprepared been elevated, for the most cynical reasons, to be a candidate for high national office. Never before had the voters seemed so mesmerized by the personal narrative of such a person, so driven by emotional appeal, and so accepting of a candidate with only the most superficial grasp of policy. But most Republicans I knew were willing to overlook it. After all, they said, both parties had a history of choosing “lightweights” for the vice presidency. This was the favored euphemism. Yes, she was a lightweight, but this was not enough to override their conviction that Barack Obama would surely raise their taxes.

  “Don’t you understand,” said a partner I respected, “that this means money out of your pocket? Do you really want to be poorer?”

  It was apparent from election night on that President-elect McCain and his running mate were not on good terms. She was not permitted to speak that night. The next day, the “McCain-Palin” campaign morphed into the coming “McCain” administration, with the word “Palin” never again appearing in a public statement or press release from the transition team. She was given no special assignment and no respo
nsibilities, and she became invisible until the moment of the inauguration. She reappeared on the steps of the Capitol to be sworn in immediately prior to John McCain, and then again retired from public view. Although the press amused itself for a while speculating about the relationship between the two, they quickly tired of the story and settled into a “new normal” where the vice president was to be neither seen nor heard.

  President McCain allowed his Treasury secretary to take the lead on the continuing fallout from the financial crisis, and decided to focus his own activity on foreign policy—his traditional area of strength. Relations with Russia having hit new lows during the second Bush term, the McCain team negotiated quietly with the Russians for a series of major cooperative initiatives, to be announced at the new president’s first overseas visit, to Moscow.

  When President McCain left in early March 2009 on his first overseas trip, the vice president was not present at Andrews Air Force Base to see him off. The press, already accustomed to the invisibility of the vice president, hardly made any comment.

  For whatever reasons, the Russian government did everything possible to flatter the new US president. Crowds lined the streets from the airport, and he was invited to address a joint session of the State Duma and the Federation Council. The speech must have been in midafternoon Moscow time, as I heard the news on the radio in the morning while shaving.

  The seventy-two-year-old president walked to the podium looking vigorous. He delivered about three sentences of his remarks, paused, gripped the back of his head, and then crumpled to the floor unconscious. Surrounded by Secret Service, he was taken to the nearby Kremlin hospital by the ambulance always flown in on a presidential visit. A CAT scan revealed a cerebral aneurysm. Kremlin doctors, with the president’s doctor in attendance, opened his skull in an attempt to intervene, but the president was declared dead from massive cranial bleeding before the ruptured artery could be repaired.