July 16, 1998
Scars Fall on Alabama
By J.J. Goldberg
Scars Fall on Alabama
Close to half the Reform temples in Alabama are named "Emanuel," which is Hebrew for "God is with us." Jews all over the state are hoping it proves true this fall, when voters pick a governor.
In a way, the Alabama governor's race is the very embodiment of a dilemma Jews face nationwide as they confront the growing strength of the Christian right. On one hand, Republican incumbent Gov. Fob James, a passionate defender of Israel whose conservative domestic views put him sharply at odds with most Jews. On the other hand, his Democratic challenger, Lt. Gov. Don Siegelman, best known for not being Fob James.
But James is no mere conservative. He's one of the nation's most strident political crusaders for a Christian America. He recently won headlines by defending a judge who hangs the Ten Commandments on his courtroom wall. His advocacy of school prayer reportedly borders on promoting civil disobedience. Critics say that his attacks on federal courts and the First Amendment -- he claims that it doesn't apply to states -- are fueling an atmosphere of religious war in Alabama.
He resoundingly clinched his party's renomination in the June 30 primary runoff after one of the most divisive races in recent memory. Local Jews are shaking their heads.
"The politics here are becoming really frightening," Rabbi Jonathan Miller of Temple Emanu-El in Birmingham says. "This seems to be the place where the Christian right is making its beachhead."
James is not really as devout a Christian as his rhetoric suggests, say most observers. But his wife is. Bobbie James' brand of fundamentalism is said to be one of the chief influences on the governor's agenda. A millennialist who considers Israel the key to God's plan, she's visited Israel at least 15 times. She's close to several haredi rabbis and Likud politicians. One rabbi flew from Jerusalem to her husband's last inauguration, in 1995, to blow a shofar and read from the Ten Commandments in Hebrew. Afterward, the band played Hatikvah.
Challenger Siegelman is not Jewish, despite his name. But his wife is. The Siegelmans are regulars at Montgomery's Conservative synagogue, Agudath Israel, where their older daughter was bat mitzvahed in February. When Hatikvah was played at the 1995 inauguration, the lieutenant governor's wife was reported to be the only one on the reviewing stand able to sing along.
And, yet, it's Fob James who has made friendship for Israel and Jews a cornerstone of his agenda. His Alabama-Israel trade mission last fall was a high-profile event that yielded important contracts for Israeli firms. He elevated the state's annual Holocaust commemoration from a small reception to a major public ceremony. "We stand with you forever," he declared in his 1997 keynote, "and vow before God Almighty: Never again."
Few doubt his sincerity. It certainly isn't a bid for Jewish votes. Only 9,000 of the state's 4.3 million residents are Jewish, barely one-fifth of 1 percent, and most are Democrats. Last year, a mild ruckus erupted during a meeting at the Birmingham Jewish Federation when the chairman of the community relations committee disclosed that one of the panel's 15 members was a Republican. "Most people were very nice about it," says the lone Republican, Hyman "Herc" Levine. "But not everyone."
A year later, Republican Jews are harder than ever to find, and the reason is Fob James.
"Here's a man who, with his wife at his side, will stand up and say he's a friend of the Jews," says Tuscaloosa attorney Joel Sogol, a member of the regional Anti-Defamation League board. "And, yet, he stands with a group of people who want to make Jews and other non-Christians second-class citizens."
Sogol points to last year's Ten Commandments case as typical. A judge in rural Gadsden had hung the tablets of the Law in his courtroom, and he was opening each session with a prayer -- Christian only. Sogol, representing the American Civil Liberties Union, sued in federal court to stop the practice. The case was thrown out when the court ruled that nobody with a valid interest had complained.
That didn't stop Fob James. He filed his own lawsuit, demanding that the federal court specifically endorse the rituals. When the court declined, the governor went on the warpath, claiming that the federal judge was impeding the practice of religion.
James was even more aggressive after another federal court barred recitals of Christian prayers in the public schools of rural DeKalb County.
"The court basically affirmed existing federal law, that children can pray during non-instructional time," says Birmingham attorney Lenora Pate, who lost the Democratic gubernatorial nomination to Siegelman. "The governor has used it to make the case that 50 million children throughout America can no longer pray in school. He's even urged students to some extent to disobey the law."
"I'm a Christian, and I'm deeply troubled by the rhetoric," says Pate, who is married to a Jew. "Back in the '60s, we had this same type of states-rights, 'those-federal-judges-can't-push-us-around' rhetoric. Back then, it was wrapped around race. We had Gov. Wallace, who ran all over the state, whipping people into a frenzy, and out of the blue we had church bombings and little girls were killed."
"Today, the same rhetoric is wrapped around religion. I can certainly understand how my Jewish friends and family can feel a huge concern."
James does have Jewish defenders, particularly in Mobile, whose 1,200 Jews include some nationally prominent Republican donors. They say the governor is misunderstood.
"Those who know Fob James don't feel threatened," says Mobile attorney Irving Silver, a former chairman of the B'nai B'rith International Center for Public Policy. "I think he has an abiding respect for people of faith, and I think he is crying out -- perhaps not as articulately as he should -- about the shortage of religious values pervading our society. But the world is not caving in. Those forebodings about Alabama becoming a theocracy are just ludicrous."
But the fears aren't just theoretical. Last year, in rural Pike County, a Jewish family named Willis was subjected to violent harassment after protesting the prayers imposed on their children in school. Jews throughout the state, particularly in rural areas, followed the case closely.
"Fob James is a very nice guy," says Rabbi Miller. "And the fact is that our constitutional protections are still in place. So far, it's mainly atmospherics. But you don't know where things may lead. That's what's frightening."
"When non-Jews say they're scared," says Pate, "they mean they're concerned about our image nationally. But when Jews say it's scary, they mean it personally."
J.J. Goldberg writes a weekly column for The Jewish Journal.