WASHINGTON
(By Jacob Weisberg,
Slate Magazine) May 21, 2007 —
Someone who refuses to consider
voting for a woman as president is rightly deemed a sexist. Someone
who'd never vote for a black person is a racist. But are you a
religious bigot if you wouldn't cast a ballot for a believing
Mormon?
The issue arises with Massachusetts Gov. Mitt
Romney's as-yet-undeclared bid for the 2008 Republican nomination.
Romney would not be the first member of the Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-day Saints to run for the nation's highest office. He
follows Orrin Hatch (2000); Mo Udall (1976); his father, George
Romney (1968); and not least of all Joseph Smith, who ran in 1844 on
a platform of "theodemocracy," abolition, and cutting congressional
pay. Despite a strong showing in the Nauvoo straw poll, Smith didn't
play much better nationally than Hatch did, and had to settle for
the Mormon-elected post of King of the Kingdom of Heaven.
With his experience as a successful businessman,
Olympic organizer, and governor, Romney has a better chance, but he
may still have to overcome a tall religious hurdle. According to a
recent Rasmussen poll, only 38 percent of Americans say they'd
definitely consider voting for a Mormon for president. Yet many
analysts think LDS membership is not an insuperable obstacle.
Various evangelical sects continue to view Mormonism as heretical,
non-Christian, or even satanic. But because of their shared faith in
social conservatism, evangelical leaders seem open to supporting
Romney. As far apart as they are theologically, Mormons and
evangelical Christians may have more in common with each other
anthropologically than they do with secular Americans watching
Big Love on HBO. The remaining skepticism on the far right
seems to have more to do with doubt about whether Romney has truly
and forever ditched his previously expressed moderate views on
abortion and gay rights.
But if he gets anywhere in the primaries, Romney's
religion will become an issue with moderate and secular voters—and
rightly so. Objecting to someone because of his religious beliefs is
not the same thing as prejudice based on religious heritage, race,
or gender. Not applying a religious test for public office, means
that people of all faiths are allowed to run—not that views about
God, creation, and the moral order are inadmissible for political
debate. In George W. Bush's case, the public paid far too little
attention to the role of religion in his thinking. Many voters
failed to appreciate that while Bush's religious beliefs may be
moderate Methodist ones, he was someone who relied on his faith
immoderately, as an alternative to rational understanding of complex
issues.
Nor is it chauvinistic to say that certain
religious views should be deal breakers in and of themselves. There
are millions of religious Americans who would never vote for an
atheist for president, because they believe that faith is necessary
to lead the country. Others, myself included, would not, under most
imaginable circumstances, vote for a fanatic or fundamentalist—a
Hassidic Jew who regards Rabbi Menachem Schneerson as the Messiah, a
Christian literalist who thinks that the Earth is less than 7,000
years old, or a Scientologist who thinks it is haunted by the souls
of space aliens sent by the evil lord Xenu. Such views are
disqualifying because they're dogmatic, irrational, and absurd. By
holding them, someone indicates a basic failure to think for himself
or see the world as it is.
By the same token, I wouldn't vote for someone who
truly believed in the founding whoppers of Mormonism. The LDS church
holds that Joseph Smith, directed by the angel Moroni, unearthed a
book of golden plates buried in a hillside in Western New York in
1827. The plates were inscribed in "reformed" Egyptian
hieroglyphics—a nonexistent version of the ancient language that had
yet to be decoded. If you don't know the story, it's worth spending
some time with Fawn Brodie's wonderful biography No Man Knows My
History. Smith was able to dictate his "translation" of the
Book of Mormon first by looking through diamond-encrusted decoder
glasses and then by burying his face in a hat with a brown rock at
the bottom of it. He was an obvious con man. Romney has every right
to believe in con men, but I want to know if he does, and if so, I
don't want him running the country.
One may object that all religious beliefs are
irrational—what's the difference between Smith's "seer stone" and
the virgin birth or the parting of the Red Sea? But Mormonism is
different because it is based on such a transparent and recent
fraud. It's Scientology plus 125 years. Perhaps Christianity and
Judaism are merely more venerable and poetic versions of the same.
But a few eons makes a big difference. The world's greater religions
have had time to splinter, moderate, and turn their myths into
metaphor. The Church of Latter-day Saints is expanding rapidly and
liberalizing in various ways, but it remains fundamentally an
orthodox creed with no visible reform wing.
It may be that Mitt Romney doesn't take Mormon
theology at face value. His flip-flopping on gay rights and abortion
to suit the alternative demands of a Massachusetts gubernatorial
election and a Republican presidential primary suggests that he's a
man of flexible principles—which in this context might be regarded
as encouraging. But Romney has never publicly indicated any distance
from church doctrine. He is an "elder" who performed missionary
service in France as a young man and did not protest the church's
overt racism and priestly discrimination before it was abolished in
1978. He usually tries to defuse the issue with the tired jokes
about polygamy, or cries foul and insists that his religious views
are "private." That they may be, but if he's running for president,
they concern the rest of us, as well.