Anyone writing a satire on American politics would be hard pressed to improve on the plot already oozing out of the New York City comptroller’s race.
If you haven’t been following the story, Eliot Spitzer now finds himself running against a woman who claims she formerly secured prostitutes for the former attorney general’s use. Inconvenience, thy name is Kristen Davis! Naturally, Spitzer denies Davis’ claims, but his call-girl history reasonably prompts doubts.
Shall we hold it against him? It’s very gauche to hold anything against anyone these days.
Writing on the case, Sally Quinn says redemption is easier and easier to come by for politicians like Spitzer. A public servant caught in any number of indiscretions need only give it a rest for the news cycle and then come back yammering about sin and grace, forgiveness and redemption.
This is what Spitzer has done. “I sinned,” he said. “I’m hopeful there will be forgiveness.”
These are, of course, religious terms clumsily draped over otherwise naked ambition. It’s easy to see this in cases like Spitzer’s, but the real question is how much religion in American politics is similarly disingenuous. How much of it is a collection of sentimental tropes and buzzwords arranged to garner votes and energize constituencies? My guess: More than we would like to think.
What passes for Christianity in Americans public life often seems like so many vaguely religious references uttered by people who are very sincere and well-meaning — and by some that most definitely are not. There are obviously exceptions here, but there is little that’s distinctly Christian or demanding of those who make the profession. We just want our politicians to be somewhat devout — particulars are immaterial — and they are happy to oblige.
As we all know, there’s no faith test for public office in this country. And it commonly shows whenever politicians speak about faith.