Rocked by financial debt, lawsuits and the loss of experienced
political leaders, the Christian Coalition has become a pale
imitation of its once-powerful self.
Some say the group — now based in Charleston and headed by a
South Carolinian — is on life support, having been eclipsed by
higher-profile, better-funded groups such as Focus on the
Family.
“The coalition as we knew it doesn’t exist,” says Lois Eargle,
former chairwoman of the Horry County Christian Coalition.
The 16-year-old organization once was a political juggernaut. But
it has been in steady decline since it lost one of its most
effective national leaders, executive director Ralph Reed. Reed left
in 1997 to form his own political consulting firm in Atlanta.
“He was a great media figure, able to convey his particular
message,” says Corwin Smidt, professor of political science at
Calvin College, a Christian liberal arts school in Michigan. “But he
was also a very bright young man and was able to articulate and make
arguments effectively on behalf of the coalition.
“Today, the coalition doesn’t have anyone of that caliber. Once
Reed left, the organization never recovered.”
During Reed’s tenure, the politically conservative coalition
began distributing millions of voter guides containing candidates’
records on hot-button issues such as abortion and gay rights.
In 1994 alone, the group mailed 30 million postcards opposing
President Clinton’s sweeping health-care proposal and made more than
20,000 phone calls to urge support for the balanced budget amendment
— two issues that helped Republicans win control of Congress that
year.
That was the coalition’s heyday.
Today, the organization founded in 1989 by religious broadcaster
Pat Robertson has fallen on hard times. It has gone through two
executive directors, seen its revenues drop dramatically, and
watched its clout and influence wane.
In 1999, Roberta Combs, who had headed the coalition’s South
Carolina chapter, took over as national executive director and began
to run the show.
Her tenure has been marked by internal strife, which some
observers say was a result of her management style. Combs fired,
demoted or drove away much of the coalition’s seasoned political
staff, critics say.
Black staffers filed a $39 million racial discrimination suit
against the coalition, alleging they were forced to use a separate
entrance at its headquarters. The suit was settled with an
out-of-court payment of some $300,000 to the employees.
Reed saw the impending financial problems and staff conflicts and
quickly left a “sinking ship,” says Furman University political
scientist Jim Guth, a nationally recognized scholar on the Christian
Right movement. “Reed’s departure was the final nail in the
coalition’s coffin.”
FROM POWERHOUSE TO AFTERTHOUGHT
Today, the cash-strapped group faces a host of problems, not the
least of which is its inability to pay its bills.
Most recently, on June 2, Pitney Bowes filed a lawsuit against
the Christian Coalition for $13,649 in unpaid postage. The issue was
settled out of court, says Pitney Bowes attorney Robert Bernstein of
Charleston. The coalition now is making monthly payments to help
erase the debt.
The coalition, once a powerful national voice for traditional
family values, has moved its headquarters to Charleston where Combs
spends most of her time.
The group also maintains a small operation in Washington that has
a full-time staff of 10. In 1994, when the coalition was at its
peak, its headquarters employed as many as 25 full-time paid
staffers.
Combs denies the coalition is in trouble. But she acknowledges
money has been harder to come by since Robertson stepped down as
coalition president in February 2002 and turned control over to
her.
“It hurt fund-raising,” she says of Robertson’s departure.
“There’s never enough money.”
The coalition is looking for a media spokesman — someone of
Reed’s caliber — to be a talking head on the television news shows
and to put the organization back on the map.
“We have not had a media spokesman for a good while now,” says
Drew McKissick, a Columbia-based political consultant and coalition
activist. “You’ve got to show the flag these days. It makes a big
difference in people’s perception. We need to boost our profile so
folks know we exist.”
Horry’s Eargle thinks that’s a waste of time.
“I don’t see anyone stepping up to the plate that could
revitalize the coalition,” she says.
In many ways, the coalition has been replaced by organization’s
like James Dobson’s Focus on the Family and the Family Research
Council in Washington, says University of Toledo professor John
Green.
Both of those groups were singled out when “Christian
conservatives” were credited with pushing President Bush over the
top in his 2004 re-election bid. The Christian Coalition was barely
an afterthought in the presidential race.
‘DON’T COUNT US OUT’
Still, the group wields influence in a handful of states — Iowa,
Alabama, Texas, Michigan and Florida.
But that’s about it, Green says.
The coalition calls itself America’s largest Christian
grass-roots organization with more than 2 million supporters.
But former members, like Eargle, feel the coalition has outlived
its usefulness.
“The Christian Coalition did a wonderful job at its time,” Eargle
says. “It did a good job in getting grass-roots people involved.
Maybe it has served its time.”
This begs the larger question: Can the one-time political
behemoth survive at all?
Combs says it will.
“All organizations have their ups and downs, and there are
seasons. The Christian Coalition will always be out there. Don’t
count us
out.”
