The Constitution Party, founded by Howard Phillips in 1992, overtly advocates "biblical law" as the basis of government. Leaders of the Christian Reconstructionism movement, which advocates theocratic government under "biblical law," have also been party leaders from its genesis. These include the founder and seminal thinker of Reconstructionism, the late R.J. Rushdoony, whom Howard Phillips once called "my wise counselor."
The party is also home to many conservative Catholics and religiously motivated home-schoolers. The explicitly religious dimension is the tie that binds what, like any party, is a fractious bunch. But the party platform also takes stands on issues on which the far-right disagrees with Bush, opposing his immigration policies as well as NAFTA, the Iraq war, and the USA PATRIOT Act. Like Moore, the party believes that the role of the federal courts should be severely limited. In 1996, Phillips and his running mate, Herb Titus, urged state and local officials to shut down abortion clinics and call up the militia in case of federal intervention. Not surprisingly, the party is the political home for members of militia groups and militant anti-abortionists. For example, the vice chair in Ohio is J. Patrick Johnston, whose essay "Why Christians Should not Vote fore George Bush," is arguably the party's anthem this year. Johnston has also argued that the murder of abortion providers is "justifiable homicide."
Unlike the Green Party, which was able to attract Ralph Nader, a respected national figure, the Constitution Party never managed to lure a "name" candidate to head its presidential ticket over the last three presidential contests. Over the years it has courted Pat Buchanan, Alan Keyes, and former U.S. Sen. Bob Smith, R-N.H. -- who briefly bolted the GOP in 2000 and flirted with both the Constitution and Reform parties before returning to the fold. Each time out, party founder Phillips gamely carried the banner. Last time, the presidential ticket drew .02 percent of the vote -- reaching 1 percent in Connecticut, South Dakota and Wyoming.
Party leaders insist this year is different. Pat Buchanan will not be rallying his nativist "pitchfork brigades" to the largely defunct Reform Party, and Buchanan's running mate, Ezola Foster, is now a member of the Constitution Party's national committee. The party is already on the ballot in Alaska, California, Colorado, Delaware, Florida, Idaho, Maryland, Michigan, Mississippi. Nevada, New Hampshire, Oregon, South Carolina, South Dakota, Utah, Vermont and Wisconsin, according to the authoritative newsletter, Ballot Access News, and more states are planned soon.
Certainly Moore has a lot in common with the party. The former judge personifies a kind of theocratic right-wing populism that sees the federal government as its major opponent. For instance, he opposes the marriage amendment to the U.S. Constitution that President Bush recently endorsed. Though it's supposed to ban gay marriage, a goal he supports, Moore insists that meddling with the Constitution would give renegade federal judges the opportunity to twist it for their purposes. "Some judge," Moore speculated, "would probably let a man marry his sister or daughter."
Instead Moore thinks Congress should pass the Constitution Restoration Act, written by Moore and his attorney Herb Titus, which would prevent the federal courts from banning acknowledgment of God as the basis of law. "Marriage is the union of a man and a woman; it's a God-ordained institution," Moore told the New York Times. But if that is not the standard, Moore thinks "there's nothing to keep three men and a horse from getting married, or an entire city."
Some Republicans are trying to keep Moore in the party, and they're using his Constitution Restoration Act to do it. Last month Alabama Republicans Rep. Robert B. Aderholt and Sen. Richard Shelby introduced the act, which would also serve the purpose of retroactively removing the matter of Moore's monument from the jurisdiction of the federal courts -- along with "any matter" in which the "acknowledgement of God as the sovereign, source of law, liberty, or government" might be an issue. Last week, Moore secured a commitment from congressional leaders to hold a hearing. The bill, loudly cheered by the Constitution Party, is a good example of the way Moore is navigating the two parties as he surfs the rising wave of right-wing populist resentment. Even if Moore ultimately decides not to run, he has certainly used his celebrity to build the Constitution Party around the country, and leveraged his Naderesque political clout to advance his agenda.
Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State, told Salon that he sees Moore using the legislation as a rallying point as he takes "his fundamentalist theocratic crusade nationwide." And yet Moore remains angry that he's gotten insufficient backing from fellow Republicans for his crusade to keep the Commandments in his courthouse, and to keep his job as chief justice. During his speaking gigs, he often shows a video in which Attorney General William Pryor makes the case against him before the Alabama Court of Judiciary. The implicit message is that Pryor personifies the GOP establishment's betrayal of Moore's vision of Christian constitutionalism. The betrayer in chief is, of course, President Bush, whose recess appointment of Pryor to the federal bench was supposed to please Christian conservatives.
"Bill Pryor was a professed Christian who had to choose between his Lord and his political career," said Jim Clymer, national chairman of the Constitution Party. "He chose his political career."
For his part, Moore told the Wall Street Journal's John Fund, "Bill Pryor made a decision on who he would side with, and I'm disappointed it's not with the people."
But the Montgomery-based Southern Poverty Law Center's Mark Potok, who has had a ringside seat on Moore's entire career, told Salon: "I think it was pretty clear that Pryor was genuinely angry at Moore and found his conduct outrageous and that it was not merely political calculus. There is a lot less sympathy for Roy Moore in Alabama than a lot of people might think."
Now, with Moore's appeals nearly exhausted, the day of decision draws nearer. Moore has used the court system to his advantage, as each new loss provides opportunities to further his case in the court of ultra-right public opinion. If Moore does appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court, Danielle Lipow, an attorney for the Southern Poverty Law Center, thinks the idea that he would have a constitutional claim is preposterous. "For him to claim that the state's ability to hold judges to their ethical standards somehow violates his rights is to turn the entire system of judicial ethics on its head."
"Could he file a federal claim?" she asks. "Certainly. It costs $150 to file." Would the claim have a chance of success? She doesn't think so, but adds: "If there were a book that included a definition of the phrase 'There is no such thing as bad publicity,' you'd find a picture of Roy Moore."
Indeed, it could be argued that Moore's showdown with the federal courts has been political theater from the beginning. Moore had the monument installed in the courthouse in the dead of night. He had not consulted his fellow justices, but he had a camera crew from televangelist D. James Kennedy's Coral Ridge Ministries on hand to film the occasion. Coral Ridge sells the video, and has raised money for Moore's legal defense.
Moore evidently set out to provoke a confrontation with the federal courts -- one he was destined to lose, much as Gov. Wallace had 40 years before. Wallace's provocative, mediagenic stands paved the way for his independent run for president in 1968. And though there are vast differences in time and the pressing issues of the moment, there are striking political parallels and one historic matter of constitutional substance: the jurisdiction of the federal courts vs. states rights.
But where Wallace hurt the Democrats, Moore's run would hurt Republicans. "This guy [Moore] is going to cut into a constituency that the Democrats lost a long time ago," says political organizer and Harvard lecturer Marshall Ganz. "To the extent that it became a threat, Bush will have to tack to the right, which would be very good for the Democrats."
About the writer
Frederick Clarkson has reported on the religious right for 15 years. He is the author of "Eternal Hostility: The Struggle Between Theocracy and Democracy" (Common Courage Press, 1997).
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