Proposed Texas Religious Freedom Commission Appealing, But Harmful
(ANALYSIS) On April 2, the Texas House Committee on State Affairs held a hearing on HB 1805, “An act relating to the creation of the Religious Freedom Commission.” The act would create a Commission of seven people within the office of the governor to advise him on religious freedom matters.
Bearing in mind the good example of the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, at first the idea looks worthwhile, and some criticism of it has been wild. It is also supported by the Texas Conference of Catholic Bishops. Nevertheless, it is an unneeded and potentially harmful proposal.
The bill provides that “the governor shall appoint seven members to a commission. … Who have demonstrated a significant interest in and are knowledgeable about issues related to religious liberty; or have served prominently as leaders of or spokespersons for organizations that serve members of religious communities, including the Christian, Hindu, Jewish and Muslim communities.”
The quorum for the commission would be four people and its duties would include to “(1) advance the right to freedom of religion within this state, denounce violations of that right, and recommend appropriate responses by the legislature to the violations; ... (3) serve as a principal advisor to the governor regarding matters affecting religious freedom within this state; ... (4)(B) ... engage in education, advocacy and outreach …"
One problem with this proposal is its call to “address and prevent faith-related bias incidents.” But bias is a tricky and contested idea, and differing interpretations are built into most religions. Catholics — indeed, most Christian groups — restrict women from at least some leadership positions, as do Orthodox Jews, most Muslims, Latter-Day Saints and Baha'is.
Is this “bias”?
Similar questions arise concerning same sex relations. Depending on their denomination, clergy can be fired if they either accept or reject such relations. These issues arise in churches, synagogues and temples themselves; when they appear more widely in religious schools, media, universities, hospitals, and charities, the problems of interpretation will be compounded.
The commission may also “accept gifts and grants from a public or private source.” When an official government agency, housed in the governor's office itself, may receive “gifts from private sources,” all sorts of mischief could arise, especially in the volatile realm of religion.
With only seven people, such a commission would also face the difficult choice of either not including minorities such as Hindus, Baha’is, Latter Day Saints and Jehovah’s Witnesses, or else including them and so creating a Commission that vastly overrepresents religious minorities.
But the most basic issue is that the Bill confuses religious leadership, even of a high order, with potential political insight and public policy expertise. But the two can be very different.
One striking example from far afield. Abdurrahman Wahid was for many years the head of Indonesia's Nahdlatul Ulama, with now some 90 million followers it is the world's largest Muslim organization. Wahid was deeply committed to religious freedom and was a hero of mine, even before writing the forward to my co-authored book “Silenced,” dealing with the dangers of blasphemy laws. In 1999, he became Indonesia’s president and sought to govern with an open heart and mind. But his talents in leading a vast religious organization did not easily transfer to governing a then-fractured country. In 2001 he was impeached by a lopsided vote of 591 to 0.
Similarly, any leader in a Christian church, for example an archbishop, might handle its internal affairs well but have no clue about political and legal matters. Such a leader might also articulate and defend a body's doctrine well but could not equally well reflect its political concerns. The gap between laity and clergy is often vast, and not only in a Christian context. I often cringe when ecclesial leaders make political pronouncements.
Why empower a small group of unelected, perhaps unrepresentative, people from some religious communities with official privileged access to the governor? Why treat seven people as if they could speak for the millions of religious believers in Texas? Can a Baptist properly reflect Catholic concerns, or an Orthodox Jew reflect Muslim concerns? There are also very many varieties of Jews, Muslims and Hindus. Can one person drawn from their broad traditions speak for the differing views within it?
The underlying issue is why on earth is such a commission thought to be needed. The governor can already check with Texas’ many elected representatives (most of whom have active religious groups in their districts) who want their advocacy and legislation to reflect these constituents’ concerns and who have actually been voted into office to do so. The governor can also already consult with relevant religious leaders any time he wants. His staff probably has them on speed dial.
The desire to highlight and draw on expertise about religious freedom is a noble idea and should be encouraged. But ecclesial and kindred leaders are generally not politically representative and do not necessarily provide wisdom in public policy. They should not be given official state authority as if they were.
Paul Marshall is the Wilson Professor of Religious Freedom at Baylor’s Institute for Studies of Religion at Baylor University, director of the Religious Freedom Institute’s South and Southeast Asia Action Team, senior fellow at the Hudson Institute’s Center for Religious Freedom and author of over 20 books on religion and politics. His latest book is “Called to be Friends: Called to Serve.”