Mitt Romney's speech sought to do several things. First and foremost, it sought to reassure wavering evangelical voters in Iowa that Romney shared their values and at least a core of their faith. In recent weeks, Mike Huckabee has been gaining rapidly on Romney's much better funded campaign, and Huckabee has been quick to trumpet his background as a Baptist preacher and his "Christian" credentials. Many evangelicals do not believe that Mormons are Christians and have been reluctant to support Romney at least in part for this reason. Second, it sought to present Romney as a candidate grounded in religious and family values to help him overcome an image as a candidate whose political views on abortion, gay rights, and immigration are dependent on which office he is seeking and what voters in that state believe. More generally, Romney sought to have a "presidential moment" -- to make a speech that would be remembered along with John F. Kennedy's famous speech of 1960 and express both the civil religion of America and also the nation's tradition of tolerance and inclusion. He probably failed at the first two tasks, but succeeded in the third.
Romney's speech probably did little to reassure doubtful evangelicals. He mentioned his Mormon faith only once, without any discussion of how that faith has informed his values. He professed a belief in Jesus Christ as the son of God and Savior of mankind, said that he would take the oath of office on the Bible, and promised not to allow Mormon leaders to influence his policies. He also sent various signals: that he would appoint judges who might overturn Roe, that he supported the phrase "under God" in the pledge, that he opposed radical Islam. But Romney's single mention of his Mormon faith was the same number of times that he positively referred to the prayer habits of Muslims, and far less often than he referred to Catholics. His comment that he wished his faith tradition included elements of various other traditions seemed strange for someone strongly endorsing his own faith, and by downplaying entirely Mormon doctrine the speech appeared both somewhat defensive and perhaps not sufficiently serious about the ideas central to all faith communities.
The speech also did little to reassure those who believe that Romney has changed his politics to suit the voters he faces. If his faith informs his moral values, then why was he once a social liberal and now a conservative? Why has he recently taken such a harsh stand on immigration? Romney did point to his stable family -- something he shares with Huckabee but few other GOP candidates. But the speech did little to tell voters what core values have animated his political life.
On the third task, Romney did far better. He certainly looked presidential at the George Bush Library. He has the best head of hair among the Republican candidates, and it shone under the lights. He seemed serious, he seemed firm, he seemed inclusive. The imagery of the speech worked well.
More substantively, he hit a number of important themes about the relationship between religion and politics, between church and state, and between tolerance and a religious people. Overall the text has drawn praise from conservatives who already supported Romney and from some liberals who would never vote for him. There were rhetorical flourishes that we associate with strong presidents, including a poetic reference to the "symphony of faith." His telling of the story of Sam Adams leading an ecumenical prayer echoes the great orators of the presidency, who bring anecdotes to bear at the right time to sell the audience on broader but more abstract points. His linking of Anne Hutchinson, Roger Williams, and Brigham Young was a powerful statement as well. The speech was well written and well delivered.
But three things about the substance of the speech struck me as odd. First, Romney made a strong claim that "freedom requires religion just as religion requires freedom." Certainly genuine religion requires freedom to flourish, but many deeply religious states are not free. And freedom seems to flourish quite well in the secular soil of Europe, where Romney notes that the cathedrals stand empty. Certainly Sweden is freer than Nigeria, for all of the secularism of the former and the religiosity of the latter.
Second, the speech sought to strike an inclusive tone, but also to perpetuate the culture war. It tried to put evangelicals, Pentecostals, conservative Catholics, Muslims, and Mormons on one side, and the religion of secularism on the other. In Romney's telling, the founders were all deeply religious, but in fact some were secular, and they fought alongside Christians and Jews for freedom and helped to establish the Constitution, which gives no religious tests and allows all to worship but establishes no church. Thus, Romney tries to have it both ways -- to give a speech that extols the virtue of tolerance while still stoking the fires of cultural conflict, at once uniting Americans and then dividing Americans into us versus them.
Finally, the speech that boldly proclaimed no one should be held to a religious test also very carefully spoke of religious doctrine -- of the role of Jesus. Many evangelicals with whom I have spoken since the speech have suggested that they found this note jarring, reminding them in fact of theology after they had been primed to put it behind them. Strategically, Romney may have believed this is necessary to win in Iowa, where he has invested so much. But it leaves him open to questions about the way Mormons conceive of Jesus in their faith, and groups working against Romney in Iowa have already begun to highlight this theological divide.
Overall, the speech was a strong one and may well help Romney if he wins the Republican nomination. But whether it helps him in Iowa remains to be seen.
-- Clyde Wilcox is a professor of government at Georgetown University. He has written and edited many books and articles on religion and politics, including ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS: THE CHRISTIAN RIGHT IN AMERICAN POLITICS (Westview Press, 2006).
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