The Religion of Democracy

By David K. Shipler 

                If America has a state religion, the historian Robert Kelley used to say, it is constitutional democracy. Among all the rancorous arguments across the American spectrum, no compelling bid to abandon the Constitution can be heard. No rhetorical attack on democracy is made. No threat to the nation, no fear of insecurity provokes such apostasy.

Even those who would undermine the Constitution, including the Capitol rioters, have acted in its name. Thus did Donald Trump’s appeals to “stop the steal” of the election intone the mantra of democracy, not the authoritarian rule he was attempting to install. Democracy was hailed by rioters who believed that they were fighting to defend it even as their insurrection moved to take it down.

That profound hypocrisy becomes less puzzling when Constitutional democracy is seen as religious. For religion can be perverted. It can be rationalized into destruction, as a world full of religious violence has witnessed. A creed can be selectively interpreted, twisted to fit parochial interests, and ignited as a call to arms. A religion’s righteous purity can be contaminated with hatred, which is then fueled by religion’s righteous certainty. No secular reasoning can rebut the divine inspiration, the holy cause. If it is for good, then that is good. But it is not always so.

American democracy is often elevated with religious language: “sacred,” “desecrate,” “temple.” Both sides in the Capitol invasion of January 6 used the terms. The lone police officer who tried to coax rioters out of the Senate chamber said gently, “Just want to let you guys know, this is the sacredest place.”

As the mobs roamed the halls searching for legislators to kidnap or kill, Trump tweeted, “These are the things and events that happen when a sacred landslide election victory is so unceremoniously & viciously stripped away from great patriots. . . . Remember this day forever!”

 Once the Senate was taken back, Senator Dick Durbin declared on the floor: “This is a sacred place. But this sacred place was desecrated by a mob today on our watch. This temple to democracy was defiled by thugs, who roamed the halls — sat in that chair, Mr. Vice President — one that you vacated at 2:15 this afternoon.”

President Biden, in his inaugural address, hailed the survival of democracy against those who sought “to drive us from this sacred ground.”

These are not mere metaphors. They are words of devotion. They are statements of reverence that strike a chord with people’s need to believe in something bigger than themselves. For many secular Americans, that something is the state religion of constitutional democracy.

“Democratic” is an abused term around the globe. Among authoritarian regimes are the Democratic Republic of Congo, the People’s Democratic Republic of Algeria, the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, the Lao People’s Democratic Republic, and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.

There is a risk of abuse in the United States as well. “Democracy” has become a facile term among certain Americans, too. It is an empty platitude like “God” and “Jesus” to some who practice immorality. They include those in the religious right who piously embraced Trump as a God-given savior while he separated immigrant children from their parents, sped last-minute executions, stirred hateful racism, and the like.

The extreme right has also forged an amalgam of Christian and democratic symbols to fortify their un-Christian, undemocratic agenda. As the “great patriots” moved to storm the Capitol, at least one man was seen in The New Yorker’s video raising a Bible above his head. Some in the mob flew Crusader flags.

 At the Senate dais, where Vice President Mike Pence had presided, a long-haired man who seemed in religious ecstasy raised his fist, looked upward toward the heavens, and shouted: “Jesus Christ, we invoke your name. Amen!” A chorus of “Amen” came from the other rioters.

Then Jacob Anthony Chansley, shirtless and wearing a bearskin headdress with horns, picked up the theme, announcing from the dais through an electric megaphone, “Let’s all say a prayer.”

He yelled loud enough to be heard in heaven: “Thank you, Heavenly Father, for giving us this opportunity. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for giving us the opportunity to stand up for our God-given rights, our inalienable rights . . . We will not allow the American way, America, to go down. Thank you for allowing the United States of America to be reborn. Thank you for allowing us to get rid of the communists and globalists and traitors within our government. We love you and we thank you, in Christ’s holy name we pray.”  

 The man who had prayed first held both hands out, open palms, eyes closed, head bowed, seemingly transported. He raised his hands toward the ceiling, shouted, “Yes! Yes!” and clenched his fists. A lusty cheer of “Amen!” rose from the small crowd that occupied the Senate chamber, a chant for a false prophet.