Adapted from Freethinkers:
A History of American Secularism
Freethinkers in the Government?
By SUSAN JACOBY
We have retired the gods from politics. We have found that man is the only
source of political power, and that the governed should govern.
—Robert Green Ingersoll, July 4, 1876
Since the terrorist attacks of
September 11, 2001, America’s secularist tradition has been denigrated by
unremitting political propaganda equating patriotism with religious faith. Like
most other Americans, I responded to the terrorist assaults with an immediate
surge of anger and grief so powerful that it left no room for alienation.
Walking around my wounded New York, as the smoke from the ruins of the World
Trade Center wafted the smell of death throughout the city, I drew consolation
from the knowledge that others were feeling what I was feeling—sorrow, pain,
and rage, coupled with the futile but irresponsible longing to turn back the
clock to the hour before bodies rained from a crystalline sky. That soothing
sense of unity was severed for me just three days later, when President George
W. Bush presided over an ecumenical prayer service in Washington’s National
Cathedral. Delivering an address indistinguishable from a sermon, replacing the
language of civic virtue with the language of faith, the nation’s chief
executive might as well have been the Reverend Bush.
Bush would surely have been criticized, and rightly so, had he failed to invite
representatives of non-Christian faiths to the ecumenical ceremony in memory of
the victims of terrorism. But he felt perfectly free to ignore Americans who
adhere to no religious faith, whose outlook is predominantly secular, and who
interpret history and tragedy as the work of man rather than God. There was no
speaker who represented my views, no one to reject the notion of divine purpose
at work in the slaughter of thousands and to proclaim the truth that grief,
patriotism, and outrage at injustice run just as deep in the secular as in the
religious portion of the American body politic.
It is one of the great unresolved paradoxes of American history that religion
has come to occupy such an important place in the communal psyche and public
life of a nation founded on the separation of church and state. Even though
more Americans may be viewing public issues through a secular lens, the
influence of religion at the highest levels of government has never been
stronger or more public. The battle over abortion, now extended to stem cell
research, is the longest-running dispute in which not only private religious
beliefs but the official teachings of various churches permeate public debate
and influence legislation. The Republican majority, joined by a fair number of
Democrats, not only supports government funding of religious charities but insists
that churches should be able to use public money to hire only members of their
own faith.
Today it is impossible to imagine an avowed atheist or agnostic winning or
being nominated for the American presidency. In a nationwide poll released in
the summer of 2003, fully half of Americans said that they would refuse to vote
for an atheist for president—regardless of his or her other qualifications.
When Senator Joseph Lieberman, a devout Orthodox Jew, was running for the vice
presidency on the Democratic ticket in 2000, political pundits indulged in
interminable self-congratulation about the growing tolerance of the American
people. While the positive response to Lieberman’s candidacy certainly attests
to the diminution of antisemitism, it was Lieberman’s open religiosity, not his
ethnic Jewishness, that enabled him to mix so effectively with evangelicals,
High Church Episcopalians, and Roman Catholic bishops. An avowedly secular,
non-observant Jew—one who considered himself Jewish in a cultural rather than a
religious sense—would never have been selected for a major party’s national
ticket.
In the Bush White House, the institutionalization of religion has reached an
apotheosis. His cabinet meetings routinely begin with a prayer, as the public
learned from a startling front-page photograph in the New York Times several
years ago. Yet the religiously correct continue to speak of a “naked public
square,” a space in which secular humanists supposedly have succeeded in
muzzling the voices of faith. In The
Culture of Disbelief, Stephen L. Carter asserts that “the truth—an awkward
one for the guardians of the public square—is that tens of millions of
Americans rely on their religious traditions for the moral knowledge that tells
them how to conduct their lives, including their political lives. They do not
like being told to shut up.” But no one is telling them to shut up—not that
anyone could. And no one denies that all public policy issues, whether they
involve scientific research or the conduct of foreign affairs, have both a
moral and a pragmatic component. For individuals, morality is never a matter of
consensus: your countrymen may go to war, but you may not follow if your
conscience forbids you to do so.
Today, the one minority left outside the shelter of America’s ecumenical
umbrella is the congregation of the unchurched.1
This is the case despite the proud tradition of freethought (the lovely term
that first appeared in the late 1600s and flowered into a genuine social and
philosophical movement during the next two centuries) in American life and
politics. On the centennial anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of
Independence, Robert Ingersoll, the foremost champion of freethought and the
most famous orator in late-nineteenth-century America, paid tribute in his
hometown of Peoria, Illinois, to the “first secular government that was ever
founded in this world.” Also known as “the Great Agnostic,” Ingersoll praised
the framers of the Constitution for deliberately omitting any mention of God
from the nation’s founding document and instead acknowledging “We the People”
as the supreme governmental authority. This unprecedented decision, Ingersoll
declared, “did away forever with the theological idea of government.”
Of course, the Great Agnostic spoke too soon; it is impossible to imagine such
a forthright celebration of America’s secularist heritage today, as the
apostles of religious correctness attempt to infuse every public issue, from
the quality of education to capital punishment, with their theological values.
This tension between secularism and religion was present at America’s creation;
a secular government, independent of all religious sects, was seen by founders
of diverse private beliefs as the essential guarantor of liberty of conscience.
The descendants of passionate religious dissenters, who had fled the
church-state establishment of the Old World in order to worship God in a
multiplicity of ways, were beholden to a godless constitution. America’s great
leaders have honored that fact in their spirit and their rhetoric. Franklin D. Roosevelt did not try to
assuage the shock of Pearl Harbor by using an altar as the backdrop for his
declaration of war, and Abraham Lincoln, who never belonged to a church,
delivered the Gettysburg Address not from a sanctuary but on the field where so
many soldiers had given “the last full measure of devotion.”
Those who cherish secularist values have too often allowed conservatives to
frame public policy debates as conflicts between “value-free” secularists and
religious representatives of supposedly unchanging moral principles. But
secularists are not value-free; their values are simply grounded in earthly
concerns rather than in anticipation of heavenly rewards or fear of infernal
punishments. No one in public life today upholds secularism and humanism in the
uncompromising terms used by Ingersoll more than 125 years ago. “Secularism
teaches us to be good here and now,” Ingersoll declared. “I know nothing better
than goodness. Secularism teaches us to be just here and now. It is impossible
to be juster than just.... Secularism has no ‘castles in Spain.’ It has no
glorified fog. It depends upon realities, upon demonstrations; and its end and
aim is to make this world better every day—to do away with poverty and crime,
and to cover the world with happy and contented homes.”
These values belong at the center, not in the margins, of the public square. It
is past time to restore secularism, and its noble and essential contributions
to every stage of the American experiment, to its proper place in our nation’s
historical memory and vision of the future.
NOTES
1 According
to a nationwide opinion poll of Americans’ religious identification, conducted
by the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, the fastest-growing
“religious” group in the United States is composed of those who do not
subscribe to any faith. From 1990 to 2001, the number of the unchurched more
than doubled, from 14.3 million to 29.4 million. Approximately 14 percent of Americans,
compared with only 8 percent in 1990, have no formal ties to religion. Sixteen
percent, and it is reasonable to assume that they make up essentially the same
group as the unchurched, describe their outlook on the world as entirely or
predominantly secular.