Suffering Secularism

Having never spent an Easter weekend in America, I asked some friends of mine whether Good Friday and Easter Monday are national holidays like President’s Day. They looked at me in shock and then smirked as they politely informed me—knowing about my distrust of most things religious—that I was now living in a “real secular country” where religion plays no part in the state. This is one of America’s more admirable qualities, yet seems to be not quite the whole truth.

America was the first country to properly announce its intention and actually separate church and state. It takes this separation seriously, keeping prayer out of schools with near-religious fervor. This is in stark contrast to my South African public school, where I had been led in prayer often enough. Despite the religious diversity, I nevertheless would have preferred a school where I didn’t have to pray to whichever God.

Noting these differences alone, America looks good: a pinnacle of secular, and a progressive and successful society. Religion, however, enters political discourse surprisingly often considering the treatment it gets in schools. There is no complaint back home about religion infiltrating politics. The only party that serves a cause higher than the voting population of South Africa, the African Christian Democratic Party, manages to win no more than a paltry six seats in a 450-seat legislature.

Our presidential candidates have no need to profess their faith or have pictures of themselves taken at church services. Religion is simply not a part of any political discussion. This is despite everyone in the country having Easter weekend off as a holiday.

Compare this to any presidential campaign, policy debate, or national moral crisis in America. Presidents have to display their religion—not discreetly but openly. The leader of the secular country cannot be secular himself.

I would challenge you to name an openly atheist, or even agnostic president. To win the presidency, it seems, politicians must demonstrate some deep religious faith, and—with the stakes raised with the last two campaigns—a “personal relationship with God” is the least that will do.

Problems arise when religious rhetoric consistently enters debate about national policy with barely a flutter of a question from the leaders and decision-makers. Apparently, religion is a valuable barometer and a useful tool for debating policy because Americans are a “spiritual people.” This sort of rhetoric, however, continues the idea that there is a single morality in America that needs to be fostered and protected. American ideals need to be protected.

This religiosity of politics goes against everything a secular state is supposed to do. Foreigners often see America as a place where they do not have to subscribe to a set of beliefs. The truth is that by law you don’t have to follow a state religion or dogma, but you do still have to bear the consequences of living in a country where religion is often one of the driving forces behind policies that affect every citizen.

Under American standards I may come from a less than piously secular state, with Good Friday and Easter Monday off from work and prayer practiced in school. This is far from ideal, but to me it seems a good deal better than American secularism—where one works through religious days but is subject to laws inspired by biblical interpretations.

Andrew P. Schalkwyk ’08, a Crimson editorial comper, lives in Holworthy Hall.