Two Candidates and 2 Corinthians: Religion in the 2016 General Election
I remember a time, not long ago, when presidential candidates quoted the Bible like millennials quote “The Breakfast Club.” When Ted Cruz touted preserving the words “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance as a primary accomplishment during his time as a state senator. When Marco Rubio assured a debate audience that he was not, in fact, their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Or even when, in both of his bids for the presidency, Barack Obama extolled his devotion to Christianity to dispel the ludicrous rumors that he was secretly a Muslim who sympathized with terrorists.
Public displays of faith such as these are an archetypal strategy in presidential politics; be religious, and religious voters will support you. Knowing this, we might ask why the two candidates in this election rarely employ this religious appeal effectively.
Donald Trump’s championing of Christian voters is like his toupee: It looks more obviously fake every day. In the past, he has identified himself as pro-choice, objectified and lusted over women, and cheated on his wife—all actions the religious right sees as blasphemous. Not only do Trump’s values contrast heavily with those of Evangelical voters, but it seems as if the Republican nominee is barely aware of this critical voting bloc’s values in the first place. In August 2015, he said the Bible was his favorite book, but declined to name his favorite verses. Later, in January of this year, while speaking at the Christian Liberty University, he mislabeled the Second Corinthians Bible book as “Two Corinthians”—a damaging mistake for someone who intends to win the presidential race by riding on the support of religious voters.
I simply don’t believe Trump is that religious. Unsurprisingly, neither does the American public, with a Pew survey from January 2016 indicating that voters rate him as the least religious candidate. Regardless, his irreligiosity, ineptitude regarding Biblical scripture, and consequential lack of religious appeals has not been a liability; Trump is still Evangelicals’ top choice. The Trump campaign recognizes that the Republican nominee’s bumbled appeals to court Christian voters could be used by the left to frame the candidate as uninformed, but they have managed to avoid this impression thus far.
Former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton has a different story. A proud Methodist, Clinton and her sweatshop of hip, media-savvy advisors have done their very best to craft religious statements that put the cool back in Christ. A highlight of this approach was the lengthy exposition Clinton gave during the March primary debate of her daily religious rituals and relationship with God. However, like her deleted emails, Clinton’s religiously-charged discourse is nowhere to be found in the general election. This shift in religiosity can be attributed to the end of the primary, which featured the end of an interesting religious dynamic with Senator Bernie Sanders.
In her fantasies about effortlessly defeating a series of Lincoln Chafees in the primary, Clinton did not account for an elderly, socialist Yosemite Sam galvanizing young people. During the same March primary debate, when pressed about his belief in God and devotion to Judaism, Senator Bernie Sanders—who joins Clinton and Trump as one of the three candidates voters see as least religious—answered instead by saying he wished people would live by a common set of morals. This statement resonated with young people, who are part of the growing trend of irreligiosity in America and who made up a large part of Sanders’ base.
When Clinton won the nomination, she hoped to finally get past the threat Bernie Sanders posed to her candidacy. In its place, Clinton saw polls indicating a close general election race, and saw herself forced to reevaluate her strategy in order to attract the young voters left behind by her primary opponent. To do this, she emulated Sanders, and adopted, somewhere within the platform of tuition-free public college and opposition to the TPP, a reduction in her references to her faith. Clinton has subdued her true religiousness in an effort to imitate Sanders’s success with millennials. Despite this effort, a September CNBC poll showed Clinton’s lead over Trump with young people slimming to a mere 5 points (down from a 24-point lead in August). This indicates that, like thoughts of wagging debate fingers and $27 campaign contributions, concerns over the right amount of religious expression will haunt Clinton until the bitter end.
Both candidates have been reluctant to make religious appeals for different reasons: Clinton, because they do not work, and Trump, because he does not have the knowledge to make them. Religion’s role in 2016 is an excellent example of how voters define their candidates in the general election. The candidates are experiencing the intricacies of campaigning for an electorate so unlike Trump’s hands and Clinton’s closet—large and diverse, especially in its religious makeup.