c. 2003 Religion News Service

(Tom Ehrich is a writer and computer consultant, managing large-scale database implementations. An Episcopal priest, he lives in Durham, N.C.)

(UNDATED) Three weeks into Gulf War II, opinions remain varied, emotions high and voices raised. We are, after all, a free and diverse people.

Except for a few like the legislator in Oregon who wants to criminalize war protests as acts of “terrorism,” we seem open to disagreement. I hope so, for this war won’t end quickly or neatly.

Bush’s war, like Caesar’s Gallia, seems to have three parts. One is the political decision to wage war. One is the military endeavor. One is its religious underpinning.

Debate over the politics started early and will continue long after Baghdad is subdued. As in all politics, reality is ambiguous. Extremists rage on the fringes, but they don’t control the debate. Not yet, at least.

The military endeavor concerns young men and women whose lives are on the line. We seem to have learned from Vietnam that, whatever our political views, the troops deserve respect and support. Disagreeing with the war doesn’t betray our troops, any more than agreeing with the war serves them.

What troubles me is the war’s religious underpinning. I hear too much talk of “holy war.” In addition to stationing troops and weapons, worried Iraqi leaders call for jihad. If troops and weapons don’t succeed, maybe faith-driven suicide bombers can. Many Muslims view this war as Christianity versus Islam.

American politicians, meanwhile, muster comparable absolutist weaponry. When early rationales came up empty _ “hot pursuit” of al-Qaida, imminent attacks by Saddam Hussein _ Washington theorists formulated a cosmic moral contest between good and evil, truth and lie, God and Satan. After steadfastly ignoring Saddam and even worse despots, America suddenly was required to oust a dictator.

Good vs. evil is a terrifying lens for viewing any conflict, for holy wars don’t end, and holy warriors don’t know when to stop. There are no treaties for resolving absolutes. There are no restraints on savagery. Americans have been reluctant and respectful warriors, but reluctance and respect have little place in an absolutist world.

How did political strategy get so moralistic and absolutist? I credit the past 40 years of surging religious fundamentalism, both in the Middle East and in America. The parallels between Iran and the Bible Belt are sobering. In both Islam and Christianity, an absolutist view of the world has gone from fringe to prevalent, from intellectual laughingstock to political potency.

Religious absolutism promises simple answers to complex questions, simple pathways for the messy business of living, simple definitions of right and wrong. Religious absolutism substitutes suspicion for discernment, judging for tolerance, self for other, closed for open, stridency for scholarship.

One tool is distortion of Scripture. Through intimidation, faux scholarship and sheer volume, fundamentalists have seized the field of scriptural inquiry and constructed a God who suits their conservative politics and anxious worldview _ but has little to do with the merciful God known by Abraham, the liberator known by Moses, or the open-minded rabbi who taught in parables, not formulas.

Another tool is division of reality into polar opposites, competing absolutes, which cannot coexist. America has survived by restraining religious rigidity and exclusivity, not by making it public policy. Fundamentalism, however, cannot tolerate tolerance.

A third tool is politicization. Fundamentalists can bring in the votes. Their determination frightened politicians, and their voter lists seduced them. Political stances were labeled “God’s will.” Serious debate on moral issues became unlikely.

Liberal Christians and Muslims, meanwhile, have remained largely silent. In American Christianity, we have focused on internal causes, such as perfecting liturgy and gender power. We hold festivals and wait for former members to regain their senses.

We have been intellectually lax and politically naive. We haven’t engaged in serious biblical scholarship outside seminaries. We have allowed fundamentalism to shape our culture’s comprehension of Scripture. We haven’t insisted on the worth of ambiguities. We haven’t shown determination or conviction, except to keep our doors open for another budget year.

If there is a case for war or any public policy, let it arise from debate, not religious fervor; from honest wrestling with complexity, not simplistic formulas; from mutual respect, not demonizing; from listening to the God of creation, not from putting hateful words into God’s mouth.

DEA END EHRICH