George Bush's compassionate conservatism sounds a lot like Al Gore's. But are faith-based charities really the answer to America's problems?
Jul 29, 1999 | In an Indianapolis speech called The Duty of Hope last week, candidate George W. Bush unveiled a palette of proposals to fill in the details of his heretofore fuzzy outline of "compassionate conservatism." The capstone of his plan is a pledge of $8 billion in tax incentives to increase donations to faith-based and secular organizations involved in community work. That figure represents 10 percent of the non-Social Security surplus (a surplus which, it should be noted, will only exist if Congress adheres to stringent budget goals over the next few years and the economy continues to overheat).
"[Government] must act in the common good," he said, "and that good is not common until it is shared by those in need." He went on: "In every instance where my administration sees a responsibility to help people, we will look first to faith-based organizations, charities and community groups that have shown their ability to save and change lives," he said.
First? Maybe Bush should be running for president of the United Way instead of president of the United States.
It is no accident that Bush's first major policy pronouncement exalts religion. Challenged for months to address issues like the minimum wage, tax cuts, abortion and gun control, the man who would lead America released a comprehensive proposal ostensibly aimed at highlighting the role of religion in public policy instead.
What courage. Lately politicians and pundits have been trying to act like Christian martyrs, insisting their religious beliefs have been marginalized by godless liberals and the media. Even Al Gore fell into it in May, when he tried to steal Bush's thunder by announcing his own faith-based social-service strategy. More recently, George magazine columnist Ann Coulter jumped on the religious victim bandwagon when she opined that the "real crisis" in American politics today is the "relentless marginalization of traditional American views" (read: conservatism and the Christian religion).
Bush's speech echoes the same self-pitying perception of this vast bloc of citizens as an oppressed minority. Bravely, he said, "A president can speak for abstinence and accountability and the power of faith," all the things we heathens fight so hard to prevent. Exactly where does the pro-promiscuity, pro-irresponsibility, pro-devil worshippers' lobby meet and how much are the dues? Bush pretends to go out on a political limb when he knows full well that there isn't a safer perch to occupy in this one nation under God. Patriotism is still the last refuge of a scoundrel but, these days, religion fills that role for a candidate.
Bush is far from alone in courting the many religious Americans among us. Who will ever forget President Clinton ostentatiously belting out gospel songs with black choirs, and throwing everybody off the beat? With the House's recent passage of the Religious Rights Bill, the near-canonization of Columbine High School victim Cassie Bernall and each politician scrambling to thump the Bible harder than the next born-again politico, certainly Bush's strategy was a no-brainer for his campaign. Imagine running for president as an atheist, agnostic or Farrakhan-follower in these self-righteous times -- that would require some holy cojones.
The governor may think he's insulated himself from critique on this pronouncement, but I beg to differ. One American's right not to be bothered by another's religion is just as important as the right to believe as conscience dictates. Further, having grown up in the patriarchal, Protestant black church -- a segment increasingly depended upon to deliver services in the inner city -- I have long viewed this growing trend toward faith-based social programming with equal measures of hope and alarm. Reliance on faith-based and private charity in troubled communities is far from trouble-free.
Get Salon in your mailbox!