The Big Tent Isn’t Big Enough

Private militias, skinheads, neo-Nazis, homophobes, gun zealots, xenophobes, jingoists, anti-Semites and the whole sorry lot who advocate violence against minorities--which party will they vote for in this year’s national elections? In spite of sanctimonious and pious distancing from these groups, Republican candidates will reap their overwhelming support.

A powerful magnetism has existed between extremist right-wing groups in America and the Republican Party for more than six decades, since the days of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal. During the Great Depression, fringe leaders included William Dudley Pelley and his brigades of anti-Semitic Silver Shirts, radio preacher Father Charles Coughlin and his Christian Front, Charles Lindbergh and the America First Committee, Fritz Kuhn and the German-American Bund. In the early 1950s, Sen. Joe McCarthy initiated witch-hunting that revived the dormant bigotries of the 1930s and sustained the GOP majorities in Congress. In the 1960s, the John Birch Society, protagonists of the antifluoridation hysteria and other extreme right-wing groups stepped forward to buttress Barry Goldwater’s candidacy. Anita Bryant’s Save Our Children (from homosexuals) and Jerry Falwell’s Moral Majority followed on their heels in the 1970s.

Now, a host of other organizations led by the Christian Coalition have replaced communists with homosexuals as the leading enemy of “all we hold dear” and as a potent fund-raising tool.

The naked hatreds of the past have become more sophisticated in the last three decades, but they are still alive behind the rhetoric of religious leaders, conservative think tanks and radio commentators.

The Republican Party has been the target of insurgency by such groups and, in times of political difficulty, has even courted them. Their increasing influence over the years has discouraged and driven out many in the GOP with more moderate stances. Some, including me, never took too seriously the party’s complicity in the ascent of the extremists. Over the years, the Republican Party has fostered such groups, often covertly, sometimes even publicly denouncing them in a mutually understood act of pragmatic politics.

This dynamic has spawned the continuing battle in the GOP between the forces of intolerance, isolationism and extremism and the “moderate” defenders of inclusivity. Pat Buchanan and Bob Dole are now re-creating this decades-old pantomime.

This battle was brought into the living rooms of America with the TV coverage of the 1992 Republican convention in Houston. It was there that Buchanan, as spokesman for the extremists, urged delegates to choose sides in a “cultural” and “religious war” to change the very definition of America. His speech, while met by an enthusiastic throng at the convention, triggered concern in much of the viewing audience. The GOP’s long flirtation with its radical-right fringe, an open secret in the sanctums of Republican decision makers, became the subject of debate across the nation.

Two years later, a somewhat softened rhetoric was successful in sweeping the GOP into power by emphasizing Americans’ deep disaffection with the status quo. Interpreting the 1994 election results as a mandate, both the GOP right and the lunatic fringe now demand more influence in the party and the leadership seems happy to oblige.

This struggle for power has helped polarize American politics, exacerbating religious antipathies, stigmatizing minorities and heightening mistrust between citizen and government. The present danger of extremism to American democracy proves that the United States is not immune to the life-and-death evil of bigotry and intolerance that has afflicted other nations.

The Republican Party’s much touted “big tent” has provided a haven for bigotry for more than six decades; the party has never dared break the ties between itself and the intolerant right. As the extremists become stronger, the moderates become weaker. It is too late.

Recently, Buchanan lashed out at the GOP’s “lords and barons” and called on his followers to hoist their “pitchforks” to oust them from the party. For those of us who are neither lords and barons nor pitchfork brandishers, but who want a country better for all of us tomorrow than it is today, the “big tent” is one that we’ve been forced to abandon by those who fill it now.