November 12, 2005

Dear Mr. Robertson,

Once again, for reasons passing understanding, the media have chosen to record and distribute some remarks of yours, and those remarks have by that means forced themselves upon my attention. Your remarks had to do with an outcome of the recent election. Now, let me hasten to say that I, too, was disappointed by some of the results. For example, I voted in favor of some reforms proposed by our governor (a Mr. Schwarzenegger), because I judged them to be, if not ideal, at least plausible responses to some pressing problems in the governance of our state. All four proposals went down to defeat. As I say, I was disappointed. More than that, I was irked. Indeed, you could even have provoked me – over a friendly glass, say – into saying that the vote was a demonstration of mass lunacy on the part of my fellow citizens. But that would have been just between you and me, and I would soon have rued even a private expression so priggish and empty of charity.

Now let’s talk about you. If you have noticed, as I have, that the old memory is just not what it once was, let me remind you of the circumstances. The people of Dover, Pennsylvania (I had almost said, in the usual formula, “the good people of Dover,” but that extra word is partly what is at issue), in the course of fulfilling their civic responsibility, voted out the sitting members of the local school board and elected new ones. (The power to do this, as you understand, is not only the point but the very substance of having elections.) The reason this quite ordinary event is of wider interest, to you or me or anyone, is, of course, that the old board had chosen to inject elements of the so-called Intelligent Design theory into their school’s science curriculum. This decision led to a lawsuit brought by some parents who objected; the trial has been concluded, but the judge has yet to announce his finding. The electors of Dover, however, having reached theirs, expressed it at the polls on Tuesday.

It is the case that a lot of reasonable people, among whom I hope it is not mere conceit to include myself, consider ID to be nothing more than a stalking horse for creationism or some other form of fundamentalist Christianity. The question of mixing sectarian religion into the public-school curriculum is a settled question, but some folks will keep looking for ways over, under, or around the bar.

And so we come to your remarks. You disagree with the choice made by the people of Dover. You express this disagreement by asserting – on what authority it is not clear but perhaps you would wish us to assume that it is the highest – that as a consequence of their actions, the people of Dover can no longer count on divine protection or succor. Some commenters have even interpreted your remarks as threatening or predicting disaster, but it’s not clear to me that they do. In any case, here is my point: Your remarks were disgraceful.

I am not a Christian, but I think I understand enough about Christianity to say that the great majority of people who are Christians must be profoundly embarrassed that you claim to speak in the name of their faith. Where, I want to know, is the teaching of Jesus in your words to Dover?

You owe an apology to Dover and to all Christians and to all Americans. It should run along these lines, if I may suggest:

“Dear people, I have sinned. In my pride I have raised myself above my fellow citizens; not only that, I have presumed to speak for my God and in so doing, in my heart have only brought him down to my level. In my anger I have spoken violently. In my ignorance I have injected myself into matters that do not concern me. I am very sorry. I shall not do so again.”

If it were up to me, in light of your history of this sort of thing, I would have you take a vow of perpetual silence. Still given your history, I’m guessing that this is unlikely. But at very least you must apologize. Now, it may be that you do not recognize a need to do so. It may be that you take some joy in being an angry, petty old man, vainly cursing the passing scene while hiding behind a book. In which case you are merely contemptible, and I can only say, Sir, to hell with you.

Your with crescendoing sincerity,

Robert McHenry