Christian Nation (36 page)
Another bill, introduced by Senator Inhofe, who entered the Senate in 1994 following a campaign based on “God, guns, and gays,” invalidated all state or municipal hate crime legislation, a long-standing objective of the evangelical community, which believed that hate crime legislation “victimized” Christians by potentially criminalizing their campaign against the evils of homosexuality. Even before The Blessing, many states had abolished their individual hate crime laws. Tony Perkins’s Family Research Council had been clear for years: Defining hate crimes to include crimes against gays would lead, inexorably, to the criminalization of Christ. On this theory, it was still murder, they conceded, if a lesbian woman was murdered, but if she was murdered because of her sexuality, it was unacceptable for that crime to be treated any differently from any other murder, for to do so could restrict religious speech, like the common slogans at evangelical rallies, “Kill the Faggots,” “God Hates Faggots,” and “Gays Must Die.” Besides, senators argued on the floor of the Senate, since states were now free to execute people for the crime of sodomy, it seemed anomalous to be providing that those who killed gays because they were sodomites should be guilty of some special crime.
Another piece of legislation, cynically titled the Jewish Homeland Act, galvanized the nation’s religious Jews, who before this moment were deeply divided between those who admired the administration’s religiosity and steadfast support for Israel and those who recognized the incipient threat to their own religious freedom. But after the Jewish Homeland Act, that divide disappeared, and Jewish activists belatedly mobilized in support of the secular cause. The convoluted legislation, which was premised on “second coming readiness” and the necessity for a strong “biblical Israel” as the homeland for the Jewish people worldwide, was ultimately clear in its implications: Jews in America had five years to accept Jesus Christ as the Messiah or to relocate to Israel. Jordan vetoed a similar piece of legislation that called for a Shia Islamic Caliphate to which all American Muslims would be required to relocate.
The last straw, and a sign of things to follow, was a burst of new federal laws dealing with education. The Christian far right had for decades studied and admired an Islamic movement in Nigeria called Boko Haram. Literally translated, the phrase meant “education is prohibited,” but the principle as implemented in parts of Nigeria prohibited all but strictly Islamic learning. The evangelical version adopted for American purposes prohibited any curriculum or teaching that could reasonably be expected to “undermine respect and reverence for the Bible as the Word of God.” Its proponents argued that affirmative Christian education was not required but that intolerance for Christian teachings and values was inconsistent with, and unacceptable in, a Christian Nation. And then, late in the month, the Congress of the United States passed legislation invalidating the charters of each of the hated Ivy League universities on the purported grounds of sedition, treason, and a long catalog of illegal anti-Christian activities. The statute provided that their property was forfeit to the federal government. Of the eight Ivy League universities, only Dartmouth was located in a state that had failed to secede and was thus then controlled by federal forces. The nation was transfixed when regular army troops secured the campus, arrested senior members of the Dartmouth administration, and installed a new president, who immediately demanded the resignation of every member of the faculty. A committee, he announced, would screen the tendered resignations and accept those from professors whose work was seditious, socialist, blasphemous, or promoted the homosexual lifestyle or other types of sexual deviancy. When students clashed violently with army troops controlling the campus, most parents withdrew their children, and the new administration suspended classes and announced that operations would recommence the following September.
This unfiltered spew of federal legislation did more than even The Blessing itself to energize the citizens of the Sec Bloc. Even those who didn’t have the vocabulary to describe it now understood that what they faced under the Christian Nation was not simply the loss of religious freedom but a comprehensive authoritarianism that would affect every element of their lives. Ordinary people became angry, scared, and determined to resist. Across the big cities and suburbs of the Sec states, community boards, block associations, condos, schools, non-evangelical churches, unions—almost every element of civil society—started to organize itself for armed resistance. And then, almost immediately, the Holy War began in earnest.
Jordan’s patience and planning paid off. Just after midnight on the last Friday of the month, Joshua Brigades from the army and marines gathered in staging areas outside Dover, Delaware, and Annapolis, Maryland. By dawn, they had occupied and sealed the capitol buildings, state government executive offices, the offices of local newspapers, and all radio and television stations. By noon, the governors, lieutenant governors, and noncompliant legislators had been arrested and removed from their states. The entire operation was bloodless with the exception of a single state trooper guarding the governor of Maryland, who opened fire as the governor, in her nightgown, was dragged from her residence. Marines killed the state trooper instantly. When crowds started to gather in Baltimore and Wilmington, tanks moved in to clear the streets. Schools and offices were ordered closed and a curfew was declared. Theocracy Watch sources in both states reported that all broadcast, cable, and Internet had been blocked, and only F3 network programming now streamed through media devices of every sort. The US attorney general appeared at a news conference that afternoon and announced that new governors had taken office in each state, and each had promptly signed legislation passed by the rump legislatures rescinding the prior acts of secession. He reminded the country that secession was an illegal act and was being dealt with as a law enforcement matter, with the assistance of federal troops as contemplated by the continuing congressionally mandated martial law regime. He said that President Jordan had ordered that the replacement of each rogue state government was to be carefully planned and surgically executed to minimize violence, and that he was particularly gratified that our brave and skilled soldiers had carried out his orders with virtually no violence or collateral damage. The attorney general reminded the leaders of the remaining twelve states that any bloodshed that resulted from their continued resistance to federal authority would be on their hands. The door was open for them to rejoin the Union peaceably, but if they refused, then force would be used. If their citizens suffered as a result of the deployment of military force, they would have only themselves to blame.
The atmosphere at the governor’s Third Avenue office that Friday evening was subdued. We spent the morning glued to coverage of the military actions in the two mid-Atlantic capitals, sobered by the ease with which the two secular state administrations were removed. Tanks were on the streets, and although sullen groups of citizens shouted profanities at passing tanks, larger gatherings were skillfully prevented. New York was more complicated, but we realized that what we had seen that day would be methodically repeated, one or two at a time, and that New York’s time would come.
Late in the afternoon, Sanjay came uptown. The governor opened a bottle of Dalwhinnie twenty-nine-year-old single malt Highland whisky, his favorite.
“Where do you think Lucy Ingram is now? She’s a delightful lady. Tough, smart, and a great governor. A popular governor. My God, do you think they’ve already killed her? I can’t believe they actually did it.”
Sanjay seemed almost as dispirited as the governor. “I think California is next. Someplace that matters. Delaware and Maryland were too easy. My bet is California.”
I was annoyed with both of them.
“Governor, we’ve got to act,” I said. “We’ve got to do something tonight. The country is looking to you.”
“What? What can I do?”
The ideas were forming in my head faster than I could articulate them. “Call the Sec governors tonight, right away. Tell them each to get on all local media tonight, right now, to declare a public holiday tomorrow, and ask every single citizen—every family with their children—to turn out on the street and stay there all day. The whole Sec population should rise up to tell Jordan that they will not allow what happened in Delaware and Maryland to happen in their states. That they will fight. Today Jordan showed the country he would fight. Now, immediately, we must tell him that we’ll fight back. Each governor should explain to their people that no army will come to their aid—that they will need to defend their homes and families and freedom by themselves. Each governor must say that he or she will fight in the streets with the people. Stand in front of their tanks. This is the Churchill moment, Governor … right now.”
Sanjay looked thoughtful and read to us quietly from his iPad. “June 4, 1940. The Nazi invasion of France was on the verge of complete success, France about to fall, a day after the miracle of Dunkirk. Everyone knows, ‘We shall fight on the beaches … we shall fight in the fields and in the streets’ and so on. But this is the best part, I think. Churchill said:
‘[I]f the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once more able to defend our island home, to ride out the storm of the war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do. This is the resolve of His Majesty’s Government.’ ”
The governor was visibly moved. Our island home was Manhattan. We would fight, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. That would be our resolve.
I
T HAS BEEN
hard for me to write about Saturday, March 31, 2018. I took a swim, walked around the lake, and then sat on the dock for an hour, staring at the large rock on the opposite shore, trying to calculate how many March 31s had passed since the last glacier had randomly deposited the gray-green granite boulder in its most fortuitous resting place at the edge of Indian Lake. I wanted to do anything but remember that day. Why is it that memories of past happiness are far more painful than memories of loss, exclusion, and other types of sorrow? I swam again. The lake water was so soft that it hardly felt like water. Gravity seemed to have dimmed. I was supported, floating without effort. Breathing. And then the door opened and I was again in that day. I wept easily, my tears joining the soft sweet waters of the lake.
Saturday, March 31, 2018, is one of the great days in American history, yet you will find no mention of it in any text or account of the Holy Wars available in America today. It was a day when no one could have wished for more from the American people. It was a day that finally proved that our national reserves of courage, independence, and common sense were intact. It was the day that Sanjay had been working and waiting for ever since our fateful visit to a mega-church in Pennsylvania thirteen years before. By noon on Saturday, over 100 million Americans in every Sec state left their houses and gravitated to those places that were the traditional hearts of their communities. In New England, it was the town squares. In Boston, millions crowded the Common and Public Garden, packed the entire length of the Commonwealth Avenue Mall, and spilled into the field and bleachers at Fenway. In New York, 1.5 million came into Central Park, with millions more assembled in parks and squares in every borough and neighborhood. In San Francisco, people streamed south across the Golden Gate Bridge on foot, filling the Presidio and all of Golden Gate Park. Chicago’s entire Lake Shore was covered with crowds estimated to grow to 2 million by midday. In the suburbs, people by instinct left their cars at home and walked down highways and gathered in whatever green and open spaces had survived sprawling development. Although none of the gatherings turned violent, the tone was one of anger and defiance.
In the afternoon, something most remarkable happened. The crowds thinned, divided into groups, and went to work. They parked cars and buses to make a defensive cordon around state legislatures and other buildings. Contractors moved concrete barriers from highway work sites to block tank access to main streets. Ground-level entrances to local television and radio stations were boarded up. All around the Sec states, people prepared for the coming Joshua Brigade attacks as they would for a hurricane. The spirit of unity and cooperation was unprecedented. Yes, people were shocked at what was happening, and driven by anger, defiance, and patriotism. But there was also an overwhelmingly pragmatic determination not just to express their anger but to
do
something. Over and over, when interviewed, ordinary people shrugged off the question of whether their preparations really could be expected to stop or deter the US military. That didn’t matter. Over and over, they simply said they had no choice but to do something, to do their best.
In that one day, Sec America had been transformed. No one speculated that Jordan would stop with Maryland and Delaware. There was no more talk of “phony war.” People accepted that, one way or another, their lives would be completely changed. And they were prepared to fight. Mayors announced that tanks would be met with bulldozers. Weekend pilots promised kamikaze-style raids on local air force bases if the planes there took to the air against the Sec forces or local populations. The National Guards, almost uniformly loyal to the Sec state governors, set up their own tanks and defensive positions around government buildings and media centers. Barriers and checkpoints were built on the main roads into major cities. And weapon stockpiles were widely distributed to prevent capture by invading Holies and to allow a sustained guerrilla-style campaign even if the state governments fell. America woke up that day from a decades-long slumber and found to its surprise that it still possessed the courage, can-do pragmatism, inventiveness, idealism, and teamwork that had made the nation the envy of the world.