This commentary is by Walt Amses, who lives in North Calais.
We all share the tendency to elevate our personal icons to near-untouchable status, relegating them to the fair air well beyond criticism, but unfortunately too often skirting the scrutiny required to keep them in any reasonable perspective.
The former president stands out as a perverse example. He once bragged about getting away with murder, intoning at a 2016 campaign rally: “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose votes.”
While we would fervently hope MAGA myopia would fall somewhat short of such a boast, he’s still making weird noises and voters continue taking him seriously, either as an anointed savior or existential threat. It may be difficult for many of us to imagine, but he’s not the only one.
POTUS Prior may not be Marjorie Taylor Greene’s vision of Jesus, but he does share the upper echelons of invulnerability with the hastily canonized former pope, John Paul II, thought to be fast-tracked to sainthood as a distraction from the church’s long-running facilitation of child sexual abuse by priests.
Turns out in the haste to elevate John Paul’s sainthood, the Vatican glossed over the fact that he might not have been very saintly, more likely part of the problem rather than a convenient solution. A new book alleges that, as Archbishop of Krakow, he not only knew about the abuse in his archdiocese but also, according to a Reuters review, “helped cover it up, transferring priests from one parish to another, including at least two eventually convicted and (who) served jail time.”
Considered by many the “greatest Pole in history,” John Paul — Karol Wojtyla before becoming pope — is universally revered in a predominantly Catholic country where 85 percent of citizens bend a knee toward Rome. So when “Maxima Culpa” was published recently in Polish, author Ekke Overbeek quickly became persona non grata across Poland and suddenly the archetypal pope’s legacy was up for debate. The country’s parliament immediately passed a resolution condemning what they saw as a left-wing plot to discredit a figure deeply intertwined with the nation’s self-image.
As outraged as his supporters might be, John Paul greased the skids for his own premature deification, canonizing 500 saints during his tenure and prompting referrals to the Vatican as “the saint factory,” especially in light of only 300 saints making the cut in the previous 600 years.
He also shortened the time limit for canonization, reducing to five years what had been a 50-year post-death waiting period. Benedict XVI, the next in line, tinkered with the rule again, allowing the sainting of his predecessor to begin mere weeks after his death.
Threatening anyone’s idols reaches the law of diminishing returns pretty quickly, as we’re learning here with the defense of the former president amping up to man-your-battle-stations level as supporters circle the wagons over his 34-count felony indictment in New York and other legal troubles likely lurking around the corner. While POTUS Emeritus faces a decidedly fractured electorate, John Paul enjoys a pristine reputation, bolstered further by his association with U.S. President Ronald Reagan and the destruction of the “Evil Empire,” Reagan’s straight-out-of-Hollywood description of the Soviet Union.
Although each man’s accomplishments and transgressions are quite different, the far-right defense in their respective countries is politically expedient and feels quite familiar. With important elections looming in both nations, conservatives have moved to quickly take advantage of the public sentiment and mythology surrounding each man and the attendant outrage at any accusation, no matter how credible.
Leaders on the right transpose long-term political aspirations into a pitched battle between good and evil, often invoking religion because it works so well as a catalyst, inspiring the masses to take to the streets and make their way to the polls on Election Day.
Saint or sinner hardly matters. The pairing of God and politics is precisely the kind of thing the Founding Fathers feared when they dogmatically opposed any intrusion of religious doctrine into government. As American Christians seem to be (finally) questioning their commitment to the man who rode their fervor into the oval office, Polish Catholics have no such reservations about their former pope. The ruling party would like nothing more than to have the “papal defense” shift the focus away from the runaway inflation that topped 18 percent in February, threatening many Poles with financial instability.
Getting such a tactic to work in your favor begins with conflating something already believed — religion is perfect — with a perceived threat: The leftists are attacking the former president or former pope and we need to take our country back, manufacturing a connection and tapping into what psychologists call “belief bias” — when people rely on their preconceived beliefs rather than logic, which makes them vulnerable to manipulation.
As people accept only arguments that align with what they already believe — even if these arguments are weak or invalid — and reject any contradiction even if strong and logically sound, they are far more likely to avoid scrutiny or dismiss evidence no matter how convincing.
Consequently, supporters of either the president or the pope respond the same way once their beliefs are reinforced. They’ll align their conclusions with their beliefs rather than using reasoning to systematically evaluate new information, especially if it outlines specific wrongdoing on the part of their “chosen one.”
We can be fairly certain most conservative Republicans have absolutely no idea what charges their standard-bearer is facing, they just “know” it’s unfair. Likewise, Polish Catholics remain purposefully unaware of how many young lives the former pope’s malfeasance has destroyed; they simply don’t want to hear it.
One of the important responsibilities of citizenship is holding leaders accountable no matter how difficult they or their staunchest supporters try to make it. When we shirk that duty, we can easily predict a future where the rule of law becomes essentially meaningless, dragging down presidents, popes and abused children waiting for justice.
