One of the strange qualities of this time is watching our home-grown, Xtian Taliban wanna-bes grappling with things. Suddenly religious purism stands unveiled as a deadly force; fundamentalist attacks on secular culture are the great enemy. Some of them get it, some clearly don't. And thanks to his international coalition, George W. Bush has to stay far, far away from his pals in the Christian Coalition, the people who put him where he is.
Are we really ready to be "America United"?
If so, we'll put aside old feuds, and make peace with one another "for the duration." And some people just don't seem to want to do that.
They'd rather exploit the current crisis. They'd rather treat America's rush to battle as an open door to advance their pet agendas.
Under a bill overwhelmingly approved (200 to 1) by the state House of Representatives on Oct. 16, Pennsylvania public and private school students, unless excused in writing by their parents, would have to recite the Pledge of Allegiance or sing the national anthem. Every day.
The measure has been sent to the Senate, despite objections from the Amish and Mennonites, among others.
On the national level, U.S. Rep. Ernest Istook plans to reintroduce his constitutional amendment to foist government-sponsored religion on public schools. The Oklahoma Republican pushed a version of this bill through the House in 1998, but his majority fell short of the two-thirds necessary for a constitutional amendment.
Hard as it is to believe, in a country where "God Bless America" blares from billboards and bumper stickers, Istook thinks religious speech is in grave danger in the U.S. He's even suggested that his amendment is needed to protect people's right to pray in the wake of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.
Istook and his ilk perpetuate the lie that God has been banished from the public schools. In fact, all the law requires is school neutrality on religion.
Students have the right to read sacred texts in their free time, organize after-school Bible studies and pray before meals or tests or any time they please. The Constitution and the federal Equal Access Act guarantee this. Courts generally hold that individual students can wear shirts and buttons with religious or political sentiments.
Public school students may not impose prayers on a captive audience. They may sing "God Bless America." Public schools may sponsor recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance, but they can't compel participation by students who object or punish those who refuse.
All these things were true before Sept. 11. But scare-mongering about "anti-God conspiracies" filled the coffers of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson. Such rhetoric was divisive and distasteful then. To persist in it now is downright disloyal.
If we truly seek to stand united as a nation, our political and spiritual leaders should urge unity rather than deepen division.
Prayer and pledging allegiance are the natural reaction of some people to recent events. Not all people. And not all people who pray, pray alike. It is vicious for anyone, most of all people in power, to assume that only one reaction is correct and anyone who deviates is somehow unpatriotic.
It was 1943, in the darkest days of World War II, that the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that students cannot be compelled to recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
"United We Stand" doesn't mean suddenly everyone prays alike and thinks alike. It doesn't mean the issues we passionately debated before Sept. 11 never mattered. Some, like those of religious liberty, matter more now than ever.
Our nation has been attacked by terrorists who disdain America's religious diversity and tolerance. They would see us become a theocracy where one faith is mandated by the government.
We must tone down our internal debates and turn our energy toward meeting a lethal attack. This will be required of everyone, even those among us who have been told over and over that God is on their side -- and their side only.
Many Western anti-Americans are scornful of the United States for answering a violent attack with a military response. I can follow the legitimacy in much criticism of U.S. foreign policies, past and present; I can join you in criticizing capitalist cultural hegemony.
But someone vows to kill your children, vows repeatedly to do it, then travels thousands of miles and begins to do it in your own home. Is the best immediate response you can suggest, "sit down and think about why he's so mad at you, then try to start a dialogue with him"?
I keep thinking of the defining moment of the 1988 U.S. presidential campaign, in the second debate between George Bush and Michael Dukakis. Right off the bat, Bernard Shaw hit the Democrat with a brick:
"You have two minutes to respond. Governor, if Kitty Dukakis [his wife] were raped and murdered, would you favor an irrevocable death penalty for the killer?"
Dukakis said, "No, I don't, Bernard." And he went on to generalize about deterrence and the crime rate in Massachusetts his proposal to call a "hemispheric summit" to fight drugs.
One commentator summed up the result like this: "The Duke was, by then, already dead meat, but his staggeringly robotic answer was the rhetorical equivalent of stuffing himself headfirst into a sausage grinder."
Dukakis made as much sense as any presidential candidate does in a debate. But something was missing. And that absence was actually horrifying.
I kept waiting for him to say, "you know, I would really, really want to see that rapist put off the planet, castrated with a plastic fork, whatever. And I'd do it with my bare hands; but as an adult and the leader of a nation, I would have to bring my intelligence and self-control to the decision and put my raw emotional reaction in the back seat, and god-damn you, Bernie, what kind of cruel pig-fucker asks a question like that?" Dukakis was already so far back in the polls; getting bleeped on live TV might have actually helped.