(2 of 5)
Reed's goal is to give the movement a gentler, more catholic visage. He wants to make peace with mainstream Republicans while continuing the movement's war with secular liberals. The religious right must broaden its agenda, he believes, because "we have allowed ourselves to be ghettoized by a narrow band of issues like abortion, homosexual rights and prayer in school." Even the majority of Evangelicals, he argues, are more interested in taxes, crime and the quality of education. Becoming more ecumenical will entail making alliances of convenience with conventional conservatives who, for example, do not favor outlawing abortion. This strikes some followers as heresy. To Reed, it is necessary for the movement's survival.
Last year the religious right suffered a fiasco because of George Bush's defeat. Robertson and Reed had assumed early on that Bush would narrowly edge out Clinton. Thus, although they had little affection for Bush, they helped check the movement of social conservatives toward Pat Buchanan. Their expectation was that Christian Coalition would get credit, and legitimacy, for securing the critical margin of support. In exchange, Bush's handlers accepted many of Reed's choices for delegates to the convention and allowed the religious right to pack the platform committee. The upshot: Bush seemed a prisoner of his party's extreme right, and the conservatives took a mostly bum rap for Bush's defeat.
At the local level, Christian Coalition had pursued a combative strategy. It sought to take over G.O.P. committees, ousting complacent regulars indifferent to the coalition's Bible-based agenda. In some intraparty contests, as well as races for public offices, the coalition's candidates kept quiet about their affiliation. Close to Election Day, bursts of church-centered politicking showed what was going on. Reed made the mistake of bragging in a few interviews about what became known as "stealth tactics," talking up the political benefits of guerrilla methods. "You don't know it's over," he once said of unsuspecting opponents, "until you're in a body bag." That inflammatory language made its way into data bases, to be recycled frequently.
For mainstream Republicans seeking to put the Evangelicals back in their pews -- from which they would supply votes but not leadership -- the religious right's image as sinister, rigid and exclusionary was excellent material. Ditto for liberal opponents like People for the American Way, which monitors the religious right and scores points from its every excess. After the election, Reed scurried to recoup. "This stealth thing is bad for the movement," he announced. "It isn't the future. It's the past, if anything." Reed struggled to practice diversity, conservative style. When he opened a Washington lobbying office, he appointed a Jew, Marshall Wittmann, to head it. In last spring's New York City school board elections, Reed attracted some Hispanic and African-American activists and got cooperation from the Roman Catholic hierarchy. Christian Coalition also advertised its participation.