Category Archives: Politics

Breaking the Conservative-Christian Stereotype

How the denominations vote (via Tobin Grant)

When I think about “religion and politics” in the United States, my instinct is to oversimplify: I imagine a be-suited Evangelical Republican, praising his God by voting for small government.

You may do the same. This is an unfortunate instinct, as things are rarely that simple. And, ironically, it plays into Republican strategy. Conservatives have waged a very successful campaign to tie being Christian with being Republican.

Millions of individual cases violate this “rule” — enough, in fact, that it should probably not really count as a rule. There are plenty of Christian Democrats. There are plenty of Christian progressives. And, not to be lost in all of this, there are plenty of “religious” people in the United States who are not Christian. And they cover a range of political identities.

Still, conservatives have succeeded in linking religion in the U.S. culturally with Christianity, and Christianity with Republicanism. That this is even a stronger association among those who disagree with both those philosophies is a testament to the effort’s success. More importantly, I’m sure it weighs heavily on those who subscribe to the teachings of Jesus and His Merry Men. A good Christian is a good Republican. This is in the culture. Even their opponents (pricks like me) may sling this as a stereotype and/or insult.

So it must be true.

Perhaps this has lessened a bit since what I remember as its heyday, when George W. Bush was the Evangelical in the Oval Office. I know, anecdotally, of people with definite Christian beliefs who were off-put by the war on terror and even the tax cuts for the rich. “The Christian Left” Facebook group boasts over 180,000 “likers,” and posts things like this:

“If the USA can’t afford to provide basic medical care, feed the poor, protect the environment, maintain our infrastructure, or teach our children anymore, then what exactly is our bloated military budget defending?”

Good question, right? But, anyway, that group states as its goal, “To follow Jesus by taking actions on behalf of the oppressed, the sick, the hungry, the poor, the incarcerated…” and other greatest hits of alleged Christian concern.

The group also argues vociferously that it exists — i.e., that progressive Christians are real, live people. “We can’t let the right-wing dominate Christianity like they do. They’ve twisted it into something that has nothing to do with Christ,” they say in this post. This is how successful the linkage of conservativism and Christianity has been: to be a progressive follower of Christ, you need to work hard to convince people that you are real.

But here’s a more nuanced look at religion and the U.S. ballot box: Tobin Grant of the Religion News Service mapped voting and religious persuasion using Pew data. He looked at how religious groups voted along two axes: 1) Government size (big, with many services vs. small, with few services) and 2) Morality (government that enforces morality vs. one that does not).

These are interesting choices in their own right, but they also seem to break out along the traditional Democrat/Left vs. Republican/Right divide in U.S. politics. Generally speaking, the Dems like big government and the attendant social programs, while the GOP favors a smaller government that enforces, for example, “traditional” definitions of marriage.

So, unless every Christian denomination appeared in the upper right corner (smaller government, greater protection of morality), then the popular association of Republicanism and Christianity would falter. And of course it did. Evangelicals, unsurprisingly, are up there. But check out Catholics: pretty much a circle around the center of the graph. One of the biggest denominations in the country, therefore, comes in all flavors: traditionally Democrat to traditionally Republican — and an equal number of adherents who combine beliefs across party lines.

That may be, to me, the most interesting part of this graph: It not only breaks apart the Republican-Christian identification, it also cuts across the two-party continuum. Check out the Anglicans and Presbyterians, who want a smaller government that also stays out of morality. See the Baptists, who want more morality, but also more services. And, of course, the very diverse Catholics. Not to mention the non-Christian groups: Buddhists and Atheists like governments that offer services and stay out of morality (ok, so they’re likely Democrats/Progressives). Hindus, however, tend toward more morality paired with greater services. Neither pure Democrat nor pure Republican ideology would serve their needs.

It’s a big mash, in other words. Religious identity does seem to be associated with politics, but in more-complicated ways than the popular prejudice would suggest.

ThinkProgress  links this at least partially to economics. Churches with poorer flocks generally like more government services. Catholics include a relatively even distribution of economic groups, so those folks cluster around the center.

But there are almost as many economic outliers. Hindus tend to make good bank, but they vote for services. Many Evangelicals make modest incomes, and often rely on social services themselves, but oppose big government. So if religious groups do cluster into clear political quadrants, money doesn’t explain why — not entirely. Neither does political party. Faith is part of a complicated network of identities — economics, race, ethnicity, region, immigration history, and I’m sure many more — that could affect political ideology.

But there doesn’t seem to be much inherent in any particular religion’s teachings that leads people to choose a particular political identity. As ThinkProgress writes:

Regarding the two issues discussed above, the data hints that a voter’s religious affiliation is a strong indicator of their political beliefs, but it’s not totally clear whether religious teachings are the main force shaping those political beliefs. A longer analysis of history, theology, and actual voting patterns of parishioners would be required to get a more accurate picture of what’s going on here.”

Economics is part of the greater identity matrix that shapes political beliefs. So is religion. And so are the ways that political parties themselves attempt to define your religion for you.

Banned in War, Why Is Tear Gas OK Against Civilians?



Assuming the United States adheres to international conventions it has signed (not always the case), we can’t use tear gas in war. The Chemical Weapons Convention treaty , which went into force in 1997, banned the substance’s use in warfare. But we’re cool to use it on our own citizens, as this quite effective meme from has pointed out.

That little shareable quote is effective because it immediately raises questions. First of all, it raises the question of “What the fuck?” Follow-up questions include: “Wait, is that true?” And “How does that work?” There are two main points to look at here: What does the treaty say, and how “bad” is tear gas? In other words — is it banned in warfare? SHOULD it be banned in warfare and/or anywhere else?

Trick or Treaty?

First, the fun stuff: treaty stipulations!! *hysterical cheering* Is the meme right that the United States has pledged not to use tear gas in warfare? Politifact checked this, and ruled that it “is close to being accurate.” But close only counts in horseshoes and chemical warfare, so how close are we talking? Basically, yes, the Chemical Weapons Convention, or CWC, broadly bans “the development, production, acquisition, stockpiling, retention, transfer or use of chemical weapons by States Parties.” And the convention defines tear gas as a chemical weapon. Specifically, tear gas is included under the umbrella of “riot control agents” that cause sensory irritation and other unpleasant things. 

The meme is a little iffy on the year (the treaty went into force in 1997, and was only drafted in 1993), but is otherwise correct. Politifact dings them for eliding some of the context, however. The treaty makes a special provision for using tear gas as domestic riot control. Politifact says:

“[The meme] tries to leverage the Chemical Weapons Convention’s decision to ban tear gas as evidence of why the technique should be illegal for policing, yet that very same convention explicitly allows its use for domestic law enforcement purposes.”

Ok, but that depends on what you mean by “should.” Should as in, “mandated by international law”? Then, no. The Ferguson police are not explicitly violating a binding treaty. Should as in, “the right thing to do”? The meme makes a stronger case on that front. I think the point with this meme was that the banning of tear gas in warfare implies that this is a terrible substance to use on people. So it is also terrible for police to use it. Especially terrible, actually, since these are their fellow citizens.

Here’s how OurTime co-founder Jarrett Moreno characterized the motivation behind the meme when challenged by PolitiFact: “The focus of our post was raising an ethical and moral question: If we can’t use tear gas on our enemies, why is it acceptable to use on our own citizens?”

Yeah, I think that’s a point the meme actually makes pretty clearly. That the convention makes an exception for use by police forces is interesting — and a bit troubling. As Politifact found during its fact-check, it’s a bit odd for a treaty to make such a domestic-use exception. But the meme’s core point still stands: An international treaty has declared this stuff off-limits for war. You can do a lot of bad stuff in war. You can, to name a few, fire machine guns at people and drop bombs. So, tear gas must be pretty bad. And police are using it against U.S. citizens angry because one of their own was executed.

How awful is awful?

So, I think the meme is effective and honest in what it is trying to do. It effectively suggests that tear gas is a terrible thing. But here’s where my second question comes in: Is tear gas as awful as its inclusion in the CWC ban implies? Is it, perhaps, grouped among far-worse agents as a sort of overreach or excessive caution? Does it stand beside sarin gas in the “chemical weapons” lineup the same way that a wiffle bat and a Tommy gun are both weapons?

Well, sort of. Sarin gas will kill you. Tear gas, in most cases, will not. Its use is not without casualties. Some people “controlled” with high levels of tear gas have suffered heart failure and death. At least one person died because the exploding canister hit him in the head.

But tear gas intends to make you feel unpleasant. Sarin intends to make you dead. There is a huge difference there, and that at least partially explains the treaty’s two-faced approach to tear gas. Riot control gas should be kept away from the battlefield, in part, because it could be mistaken for something more deadly. In other words, tear gas is dangerous because it looks like actually dangerous stuff. Politifact quotes political scientist Richard Price: “Part of the thinking is that soldiers in the field don’t have the ability to readily distinguish in the heat of battle if a gas being used is tear gas or something more lethal.” 

Signers of the CWC treaty, however, argued that tear gas is crucial for riot control. Once a riot starts, few things are as effective in stopping it without casualties, these parties said. And, thus, the bifurcated mandate was negotiated.

Let’s Get Gassy

All this sounds like minimizing. So, let’s finally answer the question: How bad is tear gas? No, it won’t (in most cases) kill you, and is (in almost every case) not intended to do so. But it is not benign. “Unpleasant” is a sanitizing word, so let’s actually imagine our sensitive eyeballs and nerves invited to a tear-gas party:

If you get tear-gassed, it means you got hit with one of three chemicals. One of those is pepper spray, of the kind used to casually Weed-Be-Gone some of the Occupy protestors. The others are Mace (chloroacetophenone, or CN) and CS (chlorobenzylidenemalononitrile). The Ferguson cops are probably using CS.

Both CS and CN work by irritating mucous membranes. These are the awesome slimy things that let your eyelids slide over your sight-orbs and keep sex from turning into dry, joyless friction (ideally). This means it makes you get that burny feeling in your eyes, mouth, nose and lungs. Eyes will burn and tear up. The gas makes it hard to breathe and can give you chest pains. If you get really super “controlled,” stuff may come out of both ends, as they say. And, I’m not sure about this, but given that your membranes will be burning, I imagine that this will be some painful barf/squirts.

Here, a (self-alleged) soldier on Yahoo! Answers says that, “It sucks. Your eyes start running and it feels like you’re breathing in fire.” Some have said that the sensation is like drowning. Your body produces mucus, filling up your airways with fluid. That’s why it feels like asphyxiation.

Yes: unpleasant. In another context, we’ve debated whether “drowning sensations” qualify as torture. Remember waterboarding? The international community was pretty clear on that: Yes, it’s torture. I’m not claiming that getting tear gassed is the same as getting George W. Bushed. But, as with the battlefield ban, the association of tear gas with a bigger, badder cousin does point out its own awfulness. It’s not sarin. It’s not torture. But it’s on the continuum.

If nothing else, let’s use the unsanitized words: It’s a “crowd-management agent that causes unpleasant sensations,” yes. But it’s also a “chemical weapon that makes you feel like you’re drowning.” Just because it’s legal to use it against civilians doesn’t mean it’s benign — or that it deserves only benign descriptions when spoken of in that context.