The Right's Global Goals for Women
Born Again: The Christian Right Globalized
By Jennifer Butler
Reviewed by Michelle Goldberg The Public Eye Magazine - Spring 2007
One of the most important and least noticed ways that President George W. Bush has rewarded his religious Right base is
by giving them positions of power at the United Nations.
Under Bush, members of official American delegations to UN
conferences have included Janice Crouse, lead researcher of Concerned Women for America, Paul Bonicelli, former dean of academic affairs at the fundamentalist Patrick
Henry College, and Janet Parshall, the religious
Right radio host who narrated the hagiographic
documentary "George W. Bush: Faith in the
White House."
The religious conservatives who represent the
United States on the national stage have made
alliances with the Holy See and some of the
world's most repressive regimes, including Iran,
the Sudan and Libya, to fight agreements
expanding recognition of women's and children's rights. The strange emergence of this ecumenical right-wing united front, especially at
a time of such bitter antagonism between Muslims and Christians in other realms, has profound implications for women worldwide, as
well as for everyone concerned about the growing influence of religious fundamentalism in
public life.
Reverend Jennifer Butler's new book Born Again: The Christian Right Globalized, adds much to our
understanding of how
this international right-wing religious network has come into
being, and how it is likely to evolve. The former Presbyterian
Church (USA) representative to the United Nations, Butler saw
the growth of religious Right influence at the UN firsthand, and
her book relies on both her own experience and on valuable interviews with key players on all sides. Born Again is fascinating and
important. It is also occasionally maddening, because, in her frustration over the success of the religious Right, Butler has adopted
the hectoring anti-secularism that is becoming a depressing leitmotif of the nascent religious left.
The book begins with a memorable scene from a UN
women's conference in March of 2000. Butler was sitting in a
conference hall listening to a speech by the prominent global
feminist Charlotte Bunch. "Many of the American women at
the conference favored colorful, free-flowing dresses and carried
book bags picked up at previous UN world conferences…covered with the symbols and slogans of women's empowerment,"
she writes. Suddenly, a group of young, conservative, mostly male
Catholics and Mormons in suits "began streaming through the
backdoors of the conference hall as if on cue…All of them wore
bright campaign buttons emblazoned with a single word:
‘Motherhood.'"
As Butler explains, since the 1990s, religious Right activists
have been mobilizing against what they view as an anti-family,
anti-religious agenda at the United Nations. Her book presumes
a certain familiarity with the global women's movement and the
byways of international organizing, so she doesn't do much to
explain why UN conferences, statements and treaties dealing with
cultural issues matter, but the stakes are in fact
quite high.
In Tanzania, a court cited the Convention
on the Elimination of Discrimination Against
Women (a treaty ratified by 169 countries,
though not the United States) when overturning a law that prohibited females from inheriting clan land from their fathers. In striking
down Columbia's total ban on abortion last year,
that country's supreme court noted that "Various international treaties form the basis for the
recognition and the protection of the reproductive rights of women, which derive from the
protection of other fundamental rights such as
the right to life, health, equality, the right to be
free from discrimination, the right to liberty,
bodily integrity and the right to be free from
violence. Sexual and reproductive rights of
women have been finally recognized as human
rights." That notion, of course, is anathema to leaders of the
world's most traditionally religious societies, including our
own, and they have organized in opposition.
Religious Right activism at the United Nations is not simply a matter of the United States unilaterally imposing its
moralism on the rest of the world. As Butler notes, relying on
the work of religion scholar Philip Jenkins, conservative religion,
both Christian and Muslim, is growing rapidly in the global south.
The rhetoric of the international religious Right often echoes
that of anti-colonialism, denouncing international attempts to
empower women as unwelcome impositions of foreign libertinism. "Christian Right leaders at the UN portray themselves
as defending the religious, family-oriented global South against
the secular, liberal West," she writes. This is a powerful frame,
and one that feminists have thus far failed to really grapple with.
Butler quotes Jenkins saying, "What if a global North, secular,
rational and tolerant, defines itself against the rest of the world
as Christian, primitive, and fundamentalist?"
That is indeed a grim prospect, but the solution cannot be
to denigrate secularism. Frustratingly, like Jim Wallis and
Michael Lerner, she tends to repeat right-wing canards about
liberals being "intolerant" of religion as if they were fact. "Given
the resurgence of religion in the political discourse and its continued strength in shaping cultural values, one might question
whether political movements which categorically reject religious
values can reach large numbers of people," she writes. Who are
these straw liberals who have categorically rejected the values of
Desmond Tutu or the Dalai Lama? How could a global women's
movement that is rigidly anti-religious have made leaders of the
committed Methodist Hillary Clinton, the Catholic Frances Kissling,
or the Muslim Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi?
At one point, Butler writes of the
domestic left, "Subscribing to over-
zealous interpretations of the separation of church and state, many
progressives sought to ban all religious expression from public life. This
alienated many Americans, who were
willing to tolerate such expressions as
prayer at football games." There are a
host of faulty assumptions and deceptive phrases packed into these sentences. By "many progressives," one
assumes she's speaking of the ACLU and its supporters. The
ACLU, of course, only seeks to ban publicly funded religion;
when the government impinges on the free speech rights of individual believers (say, to erect crèches on property where other
public displays are permitted, or to proselytize in the school lunchroom) the ACLU defends religious expression. Going after government-sponsored prayers at football games may indeed be a
foolish political strategy, but civil libertarians are most important precisely when they're fighting for unpopular views and
minority rights. Surely Butler isn't suggesting that we make what
"many Americans" are "willing to tolerate" the measure of how
we apply the First Amendment?
Butler is correct to urge liberals to understand the resurgence
of traditional faiths as something
more than backward atavism. A progressive coalition that can fight the
religious Right needs to learn to speak
to the profound anxieties - about
globalization, cultural destabilization and family breakdown - that
make fundamentalism attractive to so
many in the first place. But such a
coalition will fail if the religious left
becomes another force decrying secularism in a world where secularists
already feel besieged. It's not just the
pious who can't bear to see their most
cherished values consigned to the
dustbin of history.
Michelle Goldberg is a contributing writer for Salon.com and
the author of Kingdom Coming: The Rise of Christian
Nationalism.
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