— Bud Norman
— Bud Norman
Wednesday was another hot one here in Wichita, with the late afternoon temperature soaring to a sizzling 108, but no one in the long line that snaked around the local Chick-fil-A’s parking lot seemed to mind. It wasn’t the appeal of the fast-food chain’s chicken sandwiches and waffle fries that brought out the unusually large crowd, although everyone we talked to assured us that both are quite delicious, but rather an unquenchable hunger for freedom.
As most literate Americans know by now, Chick-fil-A franchises are the latest battleground in the ongoing culture war. The owners of chicken sandwich chain are Christians who hold to their religion’s traditional prohibition against homosexuality, they don’t mind stating their opposition to same-sex marriage publicly, and the reaction to this formerly mainstream point of view by the self-styled forces of “tolerance” has been fierce. After the company’s owner spoke his opinions on a little-known Christian radio program, and admitted to donating money to like-minded organizations, the mayors of Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco went so far as to say that the company would not be allowed to do business in their cities. Some of the many people who were appalled by this brazen attempt to use the power of government to deny private individuals their rights to freedom of speech and freedom of religion responded by designating Wednesday “Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day,” urging consumers to voice their support for the embattled company by forking over a few bucks for a chicken sandwich.
Press reports indicate that the call was answered with long lines such as the one that materialized in Wichita at locations around the country. If success in the culture war can be measured in cash receipts, Chick-fil-A clearly won Wednesday’s skirmish.
Each of the friendly folks we spoke with said they had decided to patronize the business because they agreed with the ownership’s opposition to same-sex marriage, but they were quick to add that it was also a matter of defending freedom of speech. We’d like to think that the long lines included a few same-sex marriage proponents who were willing to take a stand for freedom of speech even when they disagree with it, but such principled commitment to the First Amendment seems to be a rare commodity in these times.
— Bud Norman
Savvy political observers will downplay the long-term significance of Rick Santorum’s Tuesday night sweep of Colorado, Minnesota and Missouri, where few delegates were at stake and the campaigning was light, but there’s no denying the short-term effect. Santorum has at least temporarily supplanted Newt Gingrich as the conservative alternative to putative front-runner Mitt Romney.
Despite a significant disadvantage to Romney in funding and organization, the former Pennsylvania senator might fare better in the challenger role than did his many successors, all of whom faded under the spotlight. He seems a likeable guy, unlike the scowling Gingrich, and in a regular blue collar background kind of way, unlike the blue-blooded Romney, and he’s not a foreign policy fruitcake, unlike Ron Paul. The more orthodox conservatives will point to his past support for earmark spending, No Child Left Behind, the prescription drug entitlement, and other Bush-era heresies, but his right-wing credentials are at least as righteous as Gingrich’s, more consistent than Romney’s, and don’t entail the foreign policy nuttiness of Paul.
Santorum’s conservatism on social issues is unquestioned, and although that has not been the main theme of his campaign it will certainly be the old-line media’s favorite storyline in the coming months. Santorum has the same position on gay marriage as Barack Obama, but he will be portrayed as a heartless gay-basher. Despite his clear and consistent declarations that he will not seek to ban contraceptives, his personal opposition to the practice will be offered as proof that he’s a modern day Anthony Comstock. Never mind that Santorum belongs to the same Catholic church as John Kerry, Nancy Pelosi and Kathleen Sebelius, it will be duly noted with undisguised disdain that unlike the others he actually believes in all that stuff.
For the most part American political discourse has been blissfully free of the social issues since the economic downturn that began in 2008, and Santorum probably prefers it stay that way, but the old cultural conflicts that have been kept on the back burner are starting to boil over into the news. The resent decision by the White House to force Catholic hospitals and schools and other religious institutions to provide insurance covering contraception and abortifacients is one example, a judge’s ruling to overturn California’s popular referendum against gay marriage is another, and Santorum’s past and present opposition to abortion will now be one more.
A renewed culture war will not only distract attention from the historically weak economic recovery, the looming debt crisis, and a rapidly deteriorating situation in the Middle East, among other more pressing problems, but the left will also expect to find itself on the winning side. They might be in correct in that calculation, but the White House has been widely criticized by members of both parties for the insurance ruling, that was a popular referendum that the judge overturned, and Obama’s abortion policies are arguably further from the center than Santorum’s. Obama has lately been mentioning his own religious convictions, partly in an attempt to sell his domestic policies with the old social gospel pitch, and several of his most ardent admirers have assured he doesn’t really mean any of it, but the fact that he feels the need to resort to religious language suggests there’s still a sizeable audience for it.
— Bud Norman