The Texas GOP has included a plank in their state party platform that the US is “a Christian nation.” That’s just swell, guys. While it’s true that, numerically, Christians are…
The Texas GOP has included a plank in their state party platform that the US is “a Christian nation.” That’s just swell, guys.
While it’s true that, numerically, Christians are a majority, and so one can describe to the US as “a Christian nation” in that way, that’s a bit different from asserting it as a political party plank. As Cathy Young notes, “If we’re going by the numbers, why not have a party platform asserting that the United States is ‘a white nation’? After all, 77 percent of Americans are white.”
Or, conversely, given that only 44% (on the high end of estimates) of Americans attend weekly church service, what if a political party decided to assert that, “the United States is a nation that rejects churchgoing.” I suspect the Texas GOP (and those supporting its platform here) would likely have conniptions over someone making that sort of assertion.
Political platforms are odd birds. On the one hand, nobody — least of all successfully elected candidates — really pays attention to them. When’s the last time an elected official said, “I’m voting for this because this is what the party platform says.” Heck, it’s usually hard to gets candidates to mention the platform during the election.
That’s because the platform is written by various party factions and insiders. It’s usually much more extreme and polemical than the majority of party members (except for the paradoxical occasions when, faced with an extremely contentious issue, a platform will try to simply gloss over it completely with platitudes and no actual stance). Given that you could likely find significant differences of opinion between any two Republicans (or any two Democrats) on various substantive issues (the Iraq war, separation of church and state, abortion, the tax code, health care reform, the War on Drugs, what to do about Iran, what to do about Israel, environmental policy, gay marriage), expecting any document to stand for “what this party believes” is, of course, folly.
Perhaps the whole platform thing needs to go away, and the candidates themselves need to develop their own personal platforms — “This I believe.” It would be more helpful, more accurate, and more interesting.
Be that as it may, while on the one hand I hate to lend too much credence to any particular party platform as anything meaningful, I suspect we’re in for a lot of that this year, as both sides and their supporters try to make political hay from whatever tomfoolery the Dems or GOP put into Official Tomes (we’re already seeing this in the run-up to the Democratic convention).
As for the Texans — well, folks, that’s just dumb. It’s one thing, as noted above, to conversationally or rhetorically make a broad generalization from an historic or demographic sense, because that welcomes debate on the matter and its meaning. But for all that party platforms aren’t worth the trees cut down to print them, they still have a patina of Official Government Policy (If We Get In) that makes a statement like that — well, impolitic, at best, and both inflammatory and Constitutionally suspect at worst.
(via Volokh)