The Christian Vote

I have two degrees: one in political science, and one in theology and ethics. I think a lot – A LOT – about the intersection of these two things, both in our culture in general, and in how I approach these two interests in my own life and my own public actions and words. While I’m obviously not leery of getting political – in terms of issues and policies – on social media and in my writing, I’ve generally steered clear of making supportive statements about candidates themselves. I’ve done this because I have been working out my own thoughts about the proper way to be politically involved. I have worked – I am still working – to find the proper line to walk between my passion for political work, and the importance I see in civil engagement, and a theological bent towards an Anabaptist, nonviolent/non-coercive, anti-empire faith. It’s a very narrow line to walk, one often difficult to discern.

It’s made all the more difficult by the current occupant of the Oval Office. I don’t want this post to be about bashing Trump. That’s easy enough to do, and he’s certainly earned that bashing. But what I mean here is, discerning my public calling in this particular time takes on an added difficulty, but also an added urgency. We are living in a time unlike any other, and we have political leadership in this country that is uniquely unfit for office and dangerous to our nation and to the people I care about most in this world. For someone wanting to engage thoughtfully and carefully in the political realm, the era of Trump serves only to obscure and erase any attempts at thoughtfulness and nuance. This is one of the most dangerous things this President brings the world, among so many others: a national tone of political engagement centered on brutality, line-drawing, and being the loudest, most extreme voice. It’s devastating to democratic political culture in general, and to finding one’s own unique political voice and course of action, especially if the voice and course you are plotting is one that is trying to be free from the traditional left-right, Democrat-Republican, progressive-conservative divide of politics. This is not, in short, a time conducive to deep, long-term thinking. It’s a time where everyone seems to be merely trying to survive, day-to-day. Existing inwardly, in an attempt to be more intentional about political and public choices, comes across as selfish, privileged, and tone deaf right now.

Nevertheless, this is where I have been, and where I continue to be as this crucial election approaches. But recently, I have come to a really important conclusion, one that is starting to drive my own political engagement, and one which I hope can start to drive that of others as well. In order to communicate that idea, let me first make a very obvious, but also very uncomfortable for me, declaration of political intent: I am supporting and voting for Joe Biden this November. I strongly supported and voted for Elizabeth Warren during the primaries, and Joe was pretty far down my list of candidates if you had asked me to rank them. But, as he wrapped up the nomination, I am content to support and vote for and even get a small bit of excited about his candidacy this year.

While that, again, seems like a rather obvious statement of support for someone like me to make, it is not one I anticipated making publicly, nor I do I feel comfortable doing so publicly. This discomfort arises, again, from my deeply held theological convictions as a Christian who takes my faith very seriously. I am in a place theologically where, generally speaking, I place almost no faith or hope in the workings of political leaders or state action. My faith is in a Man who was executed by a state very similar to our own today, a Man who came declaring God’s Kingdom, a Kingdom that is in the keeping of the Church, which is an alternative polis to the one we are left with today. It is, in the words of Augustine, the City of God where I see the hope of humanity, and not the City of Man. The City of Man, exemplified in the political tumult and actions of this world, is fallen, and most crucially, it is not and cannot become the Church, or the City of God. My political engagement in this world is never with the intention that this world will perfectly mirror the Church. It will always fall short. As Christians, we are called first and foremost to building a different example of being in the world, one based on the nonviolent, love-centered, all-encompassing love of God as seen in Christ. This is where my hope, and my chief work, lies.

That said, I don’t place zero importance on the workings of this world. We do, after all, have to live here, and Christ called us to envisioning and working for a better world here and now. And, in this country, that means democratic political engagement. For all its many, many faults, our Constitutional democracy, built on liberal Enlightenment values, does a pretty good job of ordering our lives together. And so, I feel good, in the here and now, voting for Joe Biden. I do so because – and this is the big point I want to make – voting is far from – it should be far from – the only form of democratic political engagement we participate in. Voting, in a democracy, should only be one small way in which we all participate in the governing of our states and cities and nation. When voting is paired with advocacy, education, protesting, civic engagement, and other forms of democratic participation, then crucially, who we vote for stops seeming like such an all-encompassing exercise of our political voice. In other words, when our only form of political engagement is going to vote once every two or four years, then the person we mark on the ballot completely and totally co-opts our voice and our energies. But, when we get involved in a multitude of ways, then that person we vote for only gets to account for a small portion of our public witness.

This is important because, too often, we treat who we vote for as a much larger part of who we are than it should be. When I go to the poll in November and vote for Joe Biden, many people will view that as a large statement on who I am as a person, and on what my priorities are at a granular level. But, what I want you to understand is that voting for Joe Biden is only a small part of my political and public engagement in the world. As such, I don’t feel the need to endorse or stand behind everything Joe says or does. He does not speak for me. He is merely the best choice I see on the ballot. He’s not perfect; far from it. Joe Biden and I disagree on a lot of issues. But, I don’t feel like I am mortally compromising my values as a person or a Christian by voting for someone I don’t agree with all the time, because I am willing to keep working in those areas, and through my work and advocacy, I am willing to hold Joe accountable in a more concrete way than I would be doing if all I did was vote. I really believe that sometimes it is ok to say: I don’t agree with my candidate on this or that issue, when someone challenges you on it. This holds true for the other candidates I am publicly throwing my support behind year as well: Kojo Asamoa-Caesar in our Congressional district, Abby Broyles for our Senate seat, Greg Robinson for Tulsa Mayor as my preferred candidate for Mayor, Kara Joy McKee as my City Councilwoman, Meloyde Blancett Meloyde Blancett as my State Representative. None of these candidates checks every priority or value for me. But I am willing not only to vote for them, but also to declare publicly that I am voting for them, because they all need to know that my doing so, I am saying out loud, to my community, that I am holding them to their promises, and I am going to challenge them where I think they need to be challenged. They have all asked for my vote in different ways, and the price of that vote is the reminder that their political power is only a small part of the democracy we all live and take part in.

My charge to you: go vote in your elections. But don’t just vote. Get involved. In doing so, you will more clearly discern what is important to you, and you will be able to engage our leaders not just at the ballot box, but every day, in a variety of ways. And in doing so, you can begin to see your vote as not the persona-defining choice of somebody who you must then defend to the death in public, because you have submitted your persona to them in your only act of public accountability, but as one small measure of your power as a democratic citizen.

Party Realignment: A History of Political Parties and Racism in America

Let’s have a history lesson today. History is a fascinating topic because, in studying the events of the past, you can observe the way societies and people change, and the human drama that plays out as a result of those changes. One of the reasons I love history so much is because the stories of the past – of the fall of the Roman Republic, of the American Revolution, of the tumults of Tudor England and the emergence of Protestantism across Europe, just to name a few of my favorites – are better and more exciting stories, full of pathos and intrigue, than any fiction writer could ever conceive. Reading about these great moments in history, and the people and decisions that shaped them, reveals that change is an inevitable part of the human condition, that not only do circumstances change wildly, but also people and institutions change constantly, often much more rapidly and unpredictably than we could ever envision.

I’ve been thinking about these things recently as I have watched the debate rage again about Confederate statues, the legacy of the Civil War, and the role of our two major political parties across that time. So I wanted to take a few minutes today to address that last topic. Here’s the main thing you need to understand: the parties today are very different, both ideologically and in composition, than they were 50 years ago, 100 years ago, or 150 years ago. If you think the Democratic and Republican Parties that we have today are basically the same as they were when they emerged from the Civil War, well, have I got a story for you. Buckle up.

The two parties we have today formed before the Civil War. The Democratic Party finds its roots almost at the beginning of our nation, in the wake of the Era of Good Feelings, when Jefferson and Madison’s Democratic-Republican Party had a monopoly on national electoral politics for the better part of 25 years at the beginning of the 19th century. As that single party rule proved untenable and began to crack, Andrew Jackson burst onto the scene, and he and Martin Van Buren crafted the Democratic Party in opposition to Henry Clay’s Whigs. Democrats were the party of the frontier person, of small-holding farmers, and of southern agriculturalists, including almost all of the nation’s slaveholders. As the Party coalesced over the thirty years leading up to the War, the locus of power in the Party shifted further and further southward, until in 1860, at the Party convention to select a candidate for President, the Party split across sectional lines, with Northern and Southern Democrats both nominating their own candidates for President that year (Stephen Douglas and John Breckenridge, respectively), both of whom lost to Abraham Lincoln. With the onset of the war, and in the aftermath, northern Democrats basically disappeared, and the Democratic Party became a regional party of Southern interests, as many former Confederates moved back into the party. James Buchanan, a Democrat, left office in 1861; over the next 65 years, only one Democrat (Grover Cleveland) would assume the Presidency, as their regional coalition could never amass the national political power needed to win office.

One thing that is important to know about the Democratic Party in the South is that, yes, they were the Party that supported and benefited from the rise of the KKK and other White Supremacist groups. Founded by six former Confederate officers in Tennessee in December of 1865, the group was led by former Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest, and one of its main goals was pushing out “carpetbagger” Republican politicians across the South. The Democratic Party supported the group, and viewed them as allies in their fight for power and white supremacist politics.

The Republican Party, on the other hand, formed in the decade leading up to the Civil War, from the remnants of the Whig Party as it collapsed, and as more Westerners joined the Union. The Party ran its first candidate for President in 1856 in John C. Fremont. From the beginning, the Republican Party was primarily concerned with stopping the spread of slavery any further west; Fremont’s campaign slogan was “Free Soil, Free Speech, and a Free Press.” Abraham Lincoln, in his 1860 campaign, doubled down on this; his election was a clear sign to the southern states that anti-slavery forces were aiming to halt and even end the practice of slavery. Their secession was a direct response to the election of Lincoln. Following the war, and the death of Lincoln, the party was largely dominated by a group of Radical Republicans, who pushed for full and equal rights for black Americans. The first black elected officials in the South during Reconstruction were all Republicans. For the next 65 years, Republicans would dominate national politics, even as they compromised with Democrats and made the conscious decision to abandon Reconstruction and build the Jim Crow system of “Separate but Equal.”

Let’s jump to 1932. While the nation technically had only two parties, in reality there were really four parties operating in electoral politics. First, you had Southern Democrats, the Party of George Wallace and Strom Thurmond and other unrepentant segregationists, a group predicated on white supremacy, Lost Cause mythology, and the maintenance of Southern power in electoral politics. Next, you have Northern Democrats, folks like Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Al Smith, and Woodrow Wilson, folks who are more interested in building up working class power in the labor union movement and protecting the gains of the Progressive Era. Third is the Liberal wing of the Republican Party, mostly concentrated in the Northeast and out West, the party of folks like Norman Rockefeller and Dwight Eisenhower and most of the Presidents of the first quarter of the 20th century – people like Teddy Roosevelt, Taft, Coolidge, Harding, and Hoover. This group is focused on pro-business policies and a strong military. They are, through and through, the Establishment. Finally, you have conservative Republicans, folks like Barry Goldwater and Robert Taft, concerned with state’s rights and rolling back the Progressive Era and then the New Deal. These four groups, for the sake of electoral success, grouped into the Parties; Southern Democrats ceded ground on labor rights and working class policies in return for maintaining the racial status quo in the South; Liberal Republicans ceded ground on national government power in return for large military budgets and business-friendly policies. This system worked well to create political stability for the better part of 60 years, albeit at the expense of black and brown bodies, who were forced into segregation and official discrimination in order for a white peace to be kept in the nation.

This carefully constructed system all started to come apart in 1948. At the Democratic Party Convention that year, as the Party re-nominated Harry Truman, Northern members led by Hubert Humphrey and Sen. Paul Simon fought for and won a Civil Rights plank in the platform, causing Southern delegates to walk out and form their own Dixiecrat Party for that election, nominating Strom Thurmond for the Presidency (Truman won the nation election any ways.) Over the next twenty years, a phenomena known as Realignment played out in electoral politics. Northern Democrats gained control of the Party, nominating Illinois Governor Adlai Stevenson in 1952 and 1956, and Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy in 1960, both of whom were strongly pro-Civil Rights. As this happened, and Southern Democrats left the party, they saw an opening in the nonexistent Republican Party in their states. Able to align their own state’s rights stance on segregation and racial issues with the pro-small government ethos of big business Republicans, many moved into the Republican Party, which lacked any real power in the South and was thus open for anyone willing to give it winning prospects.

A few important dates in the history of Realignment: first, in 1968, the Democratic Party nominates Hubert Humphrey, replacing a retiring Lyndon Johnson, a Southerner who nonetheless throughout his long political career had been pro-Civil Rights, culminating in his spearheading the push for the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act, and his working relationship with Martin Luther King Jr and other Civil Rights leaders. Meanwhile, Southern Democrats have one last gasp, nominating George Wallace as a Segregationist candidate who wins the South and helps usher Nixon into office. Next is 1972: in his national landslide, Nixon becomes the first Republican to ever sweep the South. Next: 1976, Democrats nominate Jimmy Carter, the first time the Party nominated a candidate from the Deep South since the aforementioned Breckenridge, in 1860. Democrats felt confident nominating Carter because Southern segregationist forces in the Party had mostly left by this point, and the few that remained were basically powerless in presidential politics. This would be the last time Democrat are ever competitive in the South. Reagan basically sweeps the South both times he won (Carter won his home of Georgia in 1980) and Republicans have had a stranglehold on the region ever since. One more date: 1994, the Gingrich Revolution, wherein Republicans win the House for the first time in 40 years by completing Realignment, as Republicans win across the South at the Congressional and state level.

So what does all this mean for politics today, for our current debates over Confederate monuments and naming things after racists and the fight for Black Lives? The main thing it means is that American history is complicated and messy and full of compromises and shifts and intricacies. It also means that if you are looking at the ideological makeup of the parties in, say, 1888, or 1924, or even 1967, to decide which party aligns with you today, you are doing everything wrong. The Parties today are wildly different from the Parties of the past. In politics, things change often, they change fast, and they change in ways that can’t be predicted ahead of time, but which have massive reverberations through time. There is a reason the Republican Party is powerful in the South and among white voters, and why the Democrats win the Northeast and the black vote, and it’s not because Democrats are still the Party of John C. Calhoun and Jefferson Davis, and Republicans are still the Party of Thaddeus Stevens and Abraham Lincoln. That rapid change over time, and the shifting of political currents and priorities, and the contingency of political circumstances at any one moment, means that politicians and leaders from 150 years ago would have a hard time finding a home in either political party today, not because those parties have degenerated or something, but because things are just different today than they used to be. The priorities of people in the past were simply different from ours today, even if some similarities across time still exist. You can’t define the Parties of today by who they used to be, whether that was one hundred years ago, or four years ago. Parties are fluid, evolving, and changing institutions, reacting in real time to the realities of group interactions within their ranks.

At the same time, this isn’t an attempt to relativize or neutralize the importance of ideas and policies in the face of difficult and shifting historical currents. In fact, I’m aiming at the just opposite idea with all of this: ideas matter. Truth matters. Historical knowledge matters, because it informs our world today. The Republican Party of today is not the Party of Abraham Lincoln and the Radical Abolitionists of the mid-19th century. That Party was rabidly anti-slavery, and it kick-started the movement that eventually coalesced into the Civil Rights movement, even as that movement left a compromising and equivocating Republican Party behind. The Republican Party made a conscious choice, in the 60s and 70s, to align itself with the interests of Southern segregationists, making a similar compromise the party had made with Liberal Republicans, to safeguard free markets and military might at the price of ceding the black vote. Meanwhile, the Democratic Party today is not the Party of George Wallace any longer. And while the Democratic Party in 2020 is far from perfect (don’t even get me started on its problems) one thing the Party has done somewhat well is embrace the legacy of the Civil Rights movement, which was left abandoned in the wake of the Realignment, and become the party of diversity and the use of federal power to ensure the civil and human rights of all people.

So here is your takeaway from this: the next time someone tells you the Democratic Party is the party of slavery and the KKK, you can look at them and say “yes and no, it’s much more complicated than that” and watch their black-and-white, highly ordered worldview start to crumble. You can educate them on the intricate and complicated nature of American political history. You can stand up and say, yes, we should take down Confederate statues and remove the names of racists from things, not because we are erasing history, but because history is complicated, and because we should honor and highlight people who have worked for justice and equality and the ideas enshrined in our Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights and Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address (go read it) and Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail (go read that, too), that we remember history in books and museums, and we honor and commemorate people by naming things after them and putting up their statues, not the other way around. And you’ll be able to say that you don’t care if the names and statues being replaced align with our Party identification today or not, because the past was a whole different place, and your mind is large enough and open enough to hold those complicated facts and ideas all at once.

Most of all, you’ll know that Party politics are only one aspect of American history, and that even as the Parties jostled and fought for power and courted different interests in that pursuit, that throughout history one thread of justice and equality has run down through time, from the abolitionists of the pre-war era, to the work of emancipation and then Reconstruction, to those who fought Jim Crow and Segregation, into the Civil Rights movement of the 50s and 60s, on into the expansion of civil rights to include other minority groups, down to today, to the on-going fight for Black Lives and LGBTQ rights today. Want to stand in the tradition of Lincoln? Don’t worry about your party ID. Instead, remember that he was a voice for radical and scary changes to the social makeup in pursuit of, in his words, “a new birth of freedom”, and look for that same radical and scary fight today, remembering always that change is scary, but it’s also completely necessary if we are going to live up to our finest ideals as a nation and people.

Policing in America By the Numbers

Let’s talk about statistics. Cold, hard, indisputable numbers. Last year, in Germany, an unusually large number of people for that nation were killed by police: 17. In the UK, last year’s number was 3. In Australia in 2016 and 2017 total (the most recent year we have data for), it was 4. In Japan in 2018, it was 2.

Last year, in the United States, the number of people killed by the police was 1,099. Let that sink in for a moment.

Now, I know what you are thinking: the United States just has so many more people than Germany, the UK, Australia, and Japan. And you are right! So, let’s look at per capita. In Germany, .2 people in every 1 million were killed. In the UK, it was .05 in every 1 million. In Australia, it was .16. In Japan, is was .02.

In the United States, 3.4 people in every million were killed by police.

I know those numbers can be hard to gauge. That disparity between the US and those major nations is HUGE. The orders of magnitude difference is crazy. And the point is this: the number of people – of any race, age, gender, or socio-economic status – killed by police is unimaginably high. It is the kind of number you expect to see in third word authoritarian and dictatorial states. To add some perspective, think about this: in 2016, the Philippines elected an authoritarian dictator named Rodrigo Duterte. Duterte ran as a strong man, promising during this campaign that he would kill drug sellers and users across the nation, and urging his supporters to commit extrajudicial killings themselves. Upon election, Duterte in essence launched a war on his own citizens, unleashing the police to commit untold extrajudicial murders of all sorts of “undesirable people.” The country in the four years since has been a human rights disaster. From June 2016 to July 2019, over 5,000 people were killed by the police without any kind of trial or due process.

Last year alone, the United States killed a fifth of as many people. Over a similar three year period, we put 2/3 as many people to death with due process as a despotic, authoritarian dictatorship.

If you value democracy, liberty, and being a beacon for morals and values in the world, this should bother you. If you are a decent human being, this should bother you.

Let’s dig deeper. Out of those 1,099 people killed by police last year, 259 of them were black. That’s about 24%. Meanwhile, the US population is about 12% black. In the same year, 406 white people were killed by police. That’s more people! And, as a percentage, 37% of all people killed were white. Still more! The nail in the coffin for Black Lives Matter, amirite?!

The US population is 72% white. We white folks make up ¾ of the people in this country, but only about a third of us were killed by police last year. What this means is, if you are black in the United States, you are 2.5x MORE LIKELY than a white person to be killed by the police.

Well surely, I hear you ask, this was the case because those black people were committing more dangerous crimes, right? I mean, that’s a logical assumption to make, isn’t it? But its just not the case either: blacks victims of police death were 1 ½ times more likely than whites to be unarmed. Again, think about that: black victims were more likely than whites to be unarmed, but also more likely to be killed.

All in all, whites and blacks made up a similar amount of total crimes committed in the US last year. That tells us that, in a world free from racial prejudice, victims of police brutality should also be similar among whites and blacks. But they aren’t. Blacks are, again, 2.5% MORE LIKELY to be victimized, despite not committing crimes at a similarly higher rate than whites.

Oh, and one last thing on these numbers: in 99% of cases, the police officers committing murder against those in police custody were not charged with any crime. Let me say that again: 99% OF POLICE WHO MURDERED UNARMED SUSPECTS NEVER FACED A CHARGE OF WRONGDOING.

Again, these numbers should bother you. No, wait, they shouldn’t just bother you. They should terrify you. They should devastate you. They should piss you off, send you into the streets, make you demand better from those we charge with protecting, serving and leading our nation. These numbers are simply UNACCEPTABLE.

These numbers don’t exist in a vacuum, either. To understand why people are so angry, why #BlackLivesMatter is taking off, why people are demanding real change and meaningful police reform in this country, you have to view these statistics in the context of American history. These numbers are happening in a nation that once enslaved these same black bodies. We first created professional police forces to hunt and return runaway slaves. Then, after we were forced by four years of bloody war to no longer enslave them, our country spent the next one hundred years constructing and maintaining a state-sponsored, outright system of discrimination, segregation, and terror against these same black bodies. We lynched hundreds, destroyed the livelihoods of countless others, and refused to let them exercise the full rights, responsibilities and obligations that are their birthright as American citizens. We turned the police into the tool of public repression and discrimination, using dogs and batons and water hoses and jail cells and a convenient blind eye to keep blacks in line and in their place. Then, when we were forced to dismantle that as well, we turned around and built a New Jim Crow, to quote Michele Alexander, predicated on housing and financial discrimination and the use of judicial and police power to disproportionately punish, imprison, and kill black bodies. We have elected a series of “law and order” political leaders who used the levers of legislative and executive power to twist sentencing and judicial guidelines against black bodies. We have, in short, literally done just about every imaginable thing we could come up with throughout our history to oppress and kill black people. And, in a democracy, these things have been done in YOUR name.

And you can’t figure out why black people are done with this shit? You can’t fathom why they are so damn fed up?

These appalling numbers cannot be separated from this shameful history. And that vital link is why we are marching in the streets today. Enough is enough. 400 years of history is too much. These numbers – indisputable, scientific, hard facts – are too much. Things must change. They have to change. Our future as a nation depends on it. And frankly, these numbers tell me this: if we don’t do better, maybe we don’t deserve to stick around much longer. The injustice may just be too much for our nation, already so divided, to bear.

One last note:

I wanted to take a second to break some of these numbers down by state, too. I’m going to look at six states/territories that jump out on this map: Washington D.C., New York, Illinois, New Jersey, Maryland, and my own home state, Oklahoma.In D.C., the population is 50% black, yet blacks make up 88% of those killed by police.In New York, the population is 16% black, with 37% of police deaths being black.In Illinois, those numbers are 14%, and 53%, respectively; in New Jersey, 13% and 46%; in Maryland, 30% and 50%. And finally, right here in Oklahoma, only 8% of our state’s population is black. Yet, blacks make up 40% of those killed by police in our state. FORTY PERCENT! That’s insane!

Resources

https://www.statista.com/chart/21872/map-of-police-violence-against-black-americans/

https://www.channel4.com/news/factcheck/factcheck-black-americans-commit-crime

https://mappingpoliceviolence.org/nationaltrends

https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/interactive/2020/05/mapping-police-killings-black-americans-200531105741757.html