By Charles C. W. Cooke
Monday, February 23, 2015
On Saturday afternoon, two of the Washington Post’s crack
political correspondents accosted Governor Scott Walker in the lobby of a JW
Marriott hotel and asked him whether he believed that President Obama is “a
Christian.” As is always the way with silly questions, this inquiry elicited a
silly answer. And, as it was foretold, that silly answer provoked a maelstrom
inside the bubble.
Had Walker been asked, “To which religion does President
Obama claim he adheres?” he might well have responded without making headlines.
But he wasn’t. Instead, he was prompted to weigh in on a question that he could
not possibly answer: namely, whether the president is, in any meaningful sense,
what he claims to be. “Told that Obama has frequently spoken publicly about his
Christian faith,” Dan Balz and Robert Costa wrote excitedly, “Walker maintained
that he was not aware of the president’s religion.” And the critics screamed
bloody murder.
But, really, how could he be so aware? None among us is
able to manufacture windows into other men’s souls, and we should certainly not
be asked to try — either on the record or off. Easy as it may be for Walker’s
critics to pretend that his demurral revealed a tolerance for fever-swamp
conspiracy theorizing, one can only imagine that the man would have been
equally stumped had he been asked to weigh in on the faith of, say, Mitt
Romney. As Soren Kierkegaard rather brutally observed, the question of what we
mean by a “Christian” is extremely complicated, especially in a country in
which most people claim to be devout. Presumably, Walker has a particular set
of definitions and parameters; and, presumably, his Evangelical worldview
requires that they be substantiated only by earnest investigation. If this is
how we conduct our public discussions now, one wonders why the Post didn’t ask
him to tweet out the meaning of life.
For a question to be posed in good faith, it must be
possible both for the respondent to deliver an honest answer, and for his
inquisitor to accept that answer at face value. Evidently, Balz and Costa did
not ask in good faith. Rather, they wanted a specific response, and they were determined
to crucify their man if he didn’t give it to them. That, I’m afraid, is not
journalism; it’s entertainment. Their goal wasn’t “asking questions”; it was
enforcing a catechism. The intention here wasn’t to ascertain facts; it was to
begin a call-and-response. For a brief moment in the lobby, the Washington Post
was the high priest and Walker was the congregant. The inquisition did not end
well. (Walker’s press team seemed to recognize this, and undercut him at the
first opportunity.)
Politically speaking, Ross Douthat has a kernel of a
point when he proposes that Walker could have answered the “bad question” more
adroitly. Certainly, it would be nice if conservatives were not always so
tongue-tied. But, in a case such as this, one really cannot extricate the
question from the answer. Because the Post’s inquiry could only provoke one
correct response — “yes” — and because the questioners knew that Walker was
unlikely to repeat the words upon which they had conditioned his salvation, any
longer meditation on how he should have addressed the ambush seems rather
pointless.
To grasp just how farcical this game is, one needs only
to run an eye across the list of those who are now feigning high dudgeon.
Yesterday, on CBS’s Face the Nation, Obama’s former adviser David Axelrod
pretended to be surprised at Walker’s remarks: “I don’t know why there is
confusion,” Axelrod proclaimed, indignantly. Really? At present, Axelrod is
running around the country promoting a book in which he confesses bluntly that
Obama’s well-documented objections to gay marriage were nothing more than
opportunistic lies. In 2008, Axelrod recalls in one chapter, “opposition to gay
marriage was particularly strong in the black church.” In consequence, he adds,
Obama “accepted the counsel of more pragmatic folks like me, and modified his
position to support civil unions rather than marriage, which he would term a
‘sacred union.’” Elsewhere, Obama would tell audiences that, being “a
Christian, . . . my religious beliefs say that marriage is something sanctified
between a man and a woman”; and that, “as a Christian — for me — for me as a
Christian . . . God’s in the mix.” Axelrod’s admission that this was baloney
will sell him a lot of books.
Such suspicions are routinely expressed on the left. At
various points during Obama’s tenure, public figures such as Christopher
Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and Bill Maher have openly suggested that President
Obama is either an atheist or an agnostic, and that he is merely pretending to
be a Christian to placate the rubes in the middle of the country. “You know
who’s a liar about [his faith],” Maher suggested last year, “is Obama. He’s a
drop-dead atheist, absolutely.” “Our new president,” Christopher Hitchens told
France 24 in 2009, “I’m practically sure he is not a believer.” Richard
Dawkins, meanwhile, has noted correctly that this theory is popular among
progressives. “Like many people,” he averred in 2014, “I’m sure that Obama is
an atheist.” These statements lacked the modesty of Scott Walker’s effective
“dunno.” In fact, they were far, far harsher. And yet they were met with
relative indifference. Are we to conclude that the bien pensant class considers
it to be more honorable for a person to suggest that the president of the
United States is lying than to say that he does not know and does not care?
When discussing the thorny question of racial prejudice,
it is asserted with ever-increasing frequency that false consciousness rules
the roost. On Vox last week, Jenée Desmond-Harris blamed many of America’s ills
on “unconscious racism,” which, she suggests, is “also known as implicit bias.”
There is a regnant idea in America, Desmond-Harris contends, that is “so deeply
entrenched that many of us aren’t aware that we hold it — that white is better
than black.” This point was echoed by Nicholas Kristof in Saturday’s New York
Times. Directly addressing “white men,” Kristof submitted that because all
human beings are “prone to the buffeting of unconscious influences,” “bias
remains widespread in ways that systematically benefit both whites and men.” In
both cases, the argument is clear: that one’s own preconceptions determine what
is “normal” and what is “abnormal,” and that it is important for everybody to
audit themselves in order to recognize their inclinations.
This being so, one can only wonder why such rules are not
applied to the press corps, the members of which are disproportionately of, by,
and for the Left. All too often, the media’s starting point is that Democrats
are “normal,” and that Republicans are not, and that conservatives therefore
need to be subjected to obtuse questions that progressives, being sound, can be
spared. From the reaction to Walker’s words, we might conclude rather
confidently that our leading lights are simply incapable of discerning that
there is something rotten about the presumption that Walker’s silence and
indifference are “disqualifying” but that Hillary’s apparently well-documented
refusal to answer even the most basic of questions is politically smart. We
might understand why Scott Walker’s being ambushed in hotel lobbies and invited
to opine on the state of the president’s soul is deemed to be a vital part of
the usual cut and thrust, but that anything that casts President Obama in a bad
light is regarded as worthy of condemnation. And we might comprehend why two
middle-of-the-road — and often excellent — reporters sincerely believed that
the question was a good one to offer up in the first instance.
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