Ever since John F. Kennedy's successful bid for the Presidency, questions about the relevance of a politician's religious faith have been relegated to questions about his or her race. Why, the current climate of political correctness asks, does it matter whether a politician is Christian or Muslim any more than whether he or she is black or white? We should embrace all forms of diversity, we are told, because all forms of diversity are equal and worthy of our praise.
Since when did religion become a form of diversity? Since when did religion cease to be a matter of belief and start to become a matter of identity? Walter Benn Michaels, a renowned theorist at the University of Illinois at Chicago, asked that very question last year in his controversial book, The Trouble with Diversity. That question has become ever more pertinent given the forthcoming presidential primaries.
Religion, Michaels says, is not an identity, but an ideology. It is an issue not of who we are, but of what we believe. If this seems blasphemous to some, consider the particulars of the distinction.
Our identity, whether fixed or unstable (a contentious point in theoretical circles), is nevertheless a matter of what makes us who we are. So the fact that a person is black is a characterization of his or her identity. But being black does not presuppose that person's beliefs. He or she can be Christian, Jewish, or Muslim, and in turn, espouse a very different set of principles.
Our ideology, then, is independent of our identity. Hence, we can't celebrate it in the same way we do identity. It's one thing to celebrate the diversity of cultures, because celebrating diversity does not contradict who we are. As Michaels claims, your being black or Asian has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with you.
On the other hand, your religion, and more generally, your ideology, being an issue of beliefs, has everything to do with me. I can't both believe in Christianity and embrace atheism. If I adhere to Christian doctrine, then atheists are inherently wrong. It's not a matter of prejudice; it's a matter of disagreement. So religious fundamentalists, as Michaels correctly maintains, are not being prejudicial when they say a belief system is completely wrong. They are merely reaffirming the tenets of their creed.
Of course, this doesn't mean we shouldn't respect other religions. Just because we disagree with a religious system doesn't mean we should be intolerant of its followers. And this is what the true credo of American society should be: not to accept the diversity of religious beliefs (because that would be impossible and contradictory), but to be respectful of them.
The question of a politician's beliefs, then, should be of paramount importance to us. If we are voting for a candidate, the fact that he or she is of a certain race or gender should be inconsequential. But if that candidate expresses a system of religious beliefs, then we have every right to question how those beliefs will influence his or her public policies. After all, we vote for politicians in great part because of what ideas they subscribe to and promote.
If I am for the woman's right to an abortion, and if a politician claims he is a conservative Christian, and being a conservative Christian means he is against abortion, then I have every right to question his religion. It's not that I'm being discriminatory, because it's not a matter of discrimination. It's a matter of ideology. And in matters of ideology, if I am right, then all those who disagree with me are wrong.
This probably comes as good news for all of us who have been guiltily questioning Mitt Romney's Mormon beliefs. But more importantly, it should come as a wake-up call: the more we try to deny the relevance of religion in the secular political arena, the more we overlook how the two realms are inextricably linked.
Rohan Mulgaonkar is a graduate of the Boston College Class of 2007. He is currently working on a Masters in English at Stanford University.
2008 Woodie Awards
