It is election time again, and the "Religious Right" is once more in the news. Conservative religious folk are now on the radar screens of journalists and pundits as they assess the political landscape and attempt to forecast the future. A spate of books has also appeared on the subject, including analyses, such as Dan Balz and Ron Brownstein's Storming the Gates (Little, Brown); apologies, as in Don Feder's Who's Afraid of the Religious Right? (Regnery); and attacks, like Rob Batson's The Most Dangerous Man in America? Pat Robertson and the Rise of the Christian Coalition (Prometheus).

Most observers agree that religion will matter in 1996-and a major new public-opinion survey supports that assessment1-but disagree on how much and whether it should.

This attention begs a crucial question: What exactly is the Religious Right? Few political terms are used with less precision. To most people, the label refers vaguely to conservatives who happen to be religious, as opposed to, say, rich. This notion is broad enough to include Pat Robertson and the Catholic bishops, Orthodox Jews and the Assemblies of God, Salt Lake City Mormons and New York City black Pentecostals, Southern Baptists and the Nation of Islam. Even a casual glance at this list suggests that apples are being compared to avocados.

Like many misused terms, "Religious Right" actually has a precise and useful meaning. It refers to a potential coalition of theological conservatives from many different backgrounds, including Catholics, evangelicals, Jews, mainline Protestants, Mormons, Muslims, and so forth, all dedicated to restoring traditional morality in public life. Such a coalition resembles the "orthodox alliance" James Davison Hunter identified as one side of the "culture wars." Indeed, something like this alliance has long been a dream of some conservatives and a nightmare for their liberal counterparts-as revealed by Jerry Falwell's quest for a "Moral Majority" and Norman Lear's defense of the "American Way." Although the possibility is real enough, most scholars believe the Religious Right has not yet come into being.

What most observers mean by "the Religious Right" is actually just a portion of such a potential coalition: the recent entrance of evangelical Protestants into national politics largely in support of conservative causes and the Republican party. For lack of a better term, we can call the organized portion of this phenomenon the "Christian Right." (The name preferred by insiders is the "pro-family movement," while rivals like the "radical Right." Both terms are overly broad and contain an element of propaganda.)

The Christian Right is a social movement dedicated primarily to mobilizing evangelicals into the political process to restore traditional morality to public policy. Beginning in the late 1970s, the movement has developed by fits and starts to the point where it now can exercise considerable influence. Some of its most famous efforts, such as the Moral Majority and Pat Robertson's 1988 bid for the Republican presidential nomination, were largely failures. But these episodes evolved into more successful initiatives, such as the Christian Coalition and its role in the 1994 Republican party congressional election landslide.

We can distinguish three levels of actors in the Christian Right as in other social movements. At the "top" are its leaders and the organizations they head. Leaders articulate the movement's grievances, organize resources, and identify political opportunities. Although this top stratum draws on the evangelical community for support, it is mostly made up of political organizations independent of churches or denominations. There are dozens of movement leaders and organizations across the country, the most prominent being Pat Robertson and Ralph Reed of the Christian Coalition; James Dobson and Gary Bauer, associated with Focus on the Family and the Family Research Council; and Beverly LaHaye of Concerned Women for America. These leaders are the most noticed aspect of the movement, but their influence comes largely through their followers at the grassroots.

The next, "middle" level of the Christian Right is made up of the rank-and-file activists who contact public officials, attend party meetings, work in campaigns, and distribute "voter guides" in churches. These people resemble other kinds of political activists in important ways: they tend to be middle-aged, middle-class men and women (in about equal numbers) deeply embedded in their local communities, very interested in politics, and characterized by intense opinions. Where they differ is in their religious affiliations and their political goals. Most are active members of the most orthodox and sectarian portions of the evangelical community, such as fundamentalist and charismatic nondenominational churches, although their presence can be felt in evangelical churches throughout the land. Most believe the United States is suffering from moral decay on a large scale, and they are determined the government should do something about it. Movement activists are less noticed than movement leaders, but it is through them that the movement reaches voters.

Finally, at the "bottom" of the Christian Right are the targets of the movement leaders and activists: evangelicals and other religious people who can be persuaded to turn out and vote for conservative causes and Republican candidates. Voters thus mobilized are the real source of the movement's influence, and the movement's long-term impact depends upon marshaling such a voting bloc.

If evangelical voters are the core of the Christian Right, the accompanying table presents evidence as to how that core performed in the 1992 presidential election. First, 50 percent of evangelical church members who turned out to vote backed President George Bush over both Bill Clinton and Ross Perot (see the "Total" column in the table).2 Bush support was higher among subsets of evangelical voters one would expect to be sympathetic: Republican party identifiers (74 percent), those close to the Christian Right (62 percent), regular church attenders (58 percent), and pro-life supporters (57 percent). The evangelical electorate was sizable, accounting for 26 percent of the entire electorate and 36 percent of the Republican vote. These numbers suggest that conservative evangelicals make up a key part of the electorate and, in particular, the Republican coalition.

Second, the Christian Right contributed to these results with its efforts to mobilize voters, mostly by making electoral information available through churches. Evangelical voters reporting contact from the movement were dramatically more likely to vote for Bush than those who were not contacted (see the "Contacted by the Christian Right" and "Not Contacted" columns in the table).3 Overall, Bush support varied by 16 percentage points (63 to 47 percent) between those who reported contact and those who did not. Differences of similar magnitude occur within the evangelical subsets: Republican party identifiers (19 points), those close to the Christian Right (15 points), pro-lifers (14 points), and regular church attenders (12 points). Evidence from other sources (data not shown) suggests that the level of activity and effectiveness of the movement increased in 1994, and that efforts will be even greater in 1996.

Thus, the Christian Right's leaders, organizations, and activist corps will be deeply involved in the 1996 campaign, and their efforts will help mobilize a conservative evangelical voting bloc for Bob Dole and other Republican candidates. The closer the election, the more likely such a voting bloc will make a difference. These efforts may well contribute to development of a broader Religious Right in the future.

Endnotes

1. See the New York Times, June 25, 1996, for Gustav Niebuhr's front-page report on the survey, "The Diminishing Divide . . . American Churches, American Politics," conducted by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press.

2. Overall, evangelicals voted for Bush in higher numbers than Roman Catholics, mainline Protestants, and voters from other religious traditions.

3. In data not shown, those contacted were also more likely to have turned out to vote.

Copyright (c) 1996 Christianity Today, Inc./Books & Culture Magazine

September/October 1996, Page 24

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