Know what, we're on the front lines! Not Afghanistan, of course, but
of the culture wars! Part of that battle was recently fought on the
Newton County School Board: the issue of what to call that well known
break at the end of December ignited tempers and rhetoric.
Both sides brought in reinforcements to argue their case. Both sides
misbehaved. Some "call it Christmas" supporters made
impassioned pleas on purely religious grounds, which only entrenched
their opposition. The "call it anything else" side didn't do
so well either, vaulting easily into the realm of the ridiculous with an
accusation of "anti-semitism."
Shouting aside, this front of the culture wars is particularly
interesting, because it involves a seeming conflict between several of
the great founding principles of our nation. Even more interesting is
how a look below the surface makes the apparent conflict begin to fade.
The first principle in question is the idea that governments should
serve the needs and desires of the people, and not the other way around.
Well, democracy is our means of doing this, and democracy is driven by
majorities. It's a plain and simple fact that a significant majority of
Newton's citizens celebrate Christmas, for religious or secular reasons,
and refer to the break by that name. That's why the break exists to
begin with. Were Newton peopled by Buddhists, I suspect there'd be an
altogether different break schedule.
Now, first at bat for the Principles in Conflict team is protection
of minorities. The founding fathers nearly had a complex over the idea
of a "tyranny of the majority" (after they'd witnessed the
French Revolution, can you blame them?). It was this fear of froth at
the mouth mob rule that dominated much of their design of the U.S.
Constitution. While the document's main goal is creating government for
benefit of the governed, it spends most of its time creating structures
to control rambunctious majorities. Checks and balances, judicial
oversight, nearly the whole Bill of Rights: there are numerous tools for
keeping majorities from inflicting any real harm on political
minorities. And we all know that subsequent centuries have brought a
dramatic expansion of such controls, as well as of the definition of
minorities to protect. Point is, the options left open to a school
board, an entity mighty low on the totem pole of power, are profoundly
constrained. If a power is still available to this body, it's probably
quite tame. To argue that naming a break, a rather toothless act of
calling a spade a spade, is injurious - well, let's just say it begs the
limits of credulity.
The other presumed principle in conflict is separation of church and
state. The First Amendment puts it thus: "Congress shall make no
law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free
exercise thereof". Subsequent generations have bemoaned the brevity
of this statement, wishing for a more extensive guidebook of intent. Yet
one distinction does stand out pretty clearly: active measures are the
no no. Government shouldn't force a particular religion on you, nor
should it restrain you from practicing one.
Unmentioned in those phrases are passive measures - acts which merely
recognize or accommodate the current state of practiced faith. The U.S.
Congress understands; "In God We Trust" is still the national
motto, and "one nation under God" is still in the Pledge of
Allegiance. What more, this distinction is the ground that allows us to
pursue George W. Bush's faith based initiative. Coming back home,
dubbing a break "Christmas" surely doesn't force anyone to
practice Christianity, nor does it sunder anyone from the exercise of
their own faith. It is passive in the extreme.
So, having viewed the collapse of the supposed "conflict"
which has superficially fueled this debate, what's left? To what
"principle" do we ascribe the victory of the contra-Christmas
advocates? To none other than our modern literary plague, the liberal
flavor-of-the-moment, Political Correctness. Isn't it wonderful that
such idiocy is driving our public policy?
Copyright ã,
Douglas Holt, 2001