Justin Giboney is a lawyer and political strategist in Atlanta who grew up in the Black church. He says his theological foundation came from his grandfather, who was a bishop in a Black Pentecostal denomination. Giboney is also the president and a co-founder of the AND Campaign, a Christian civic organization meant to represent people of faith who do not fit neatly into either political party.
I’ve written before about how I’m intrigued by people and movements that defy our prescribed ideological categories. The AND Campaign, which is based in Atlanta and has 15 chapters across the United States, is one of those. Led almost entirely by young professionals, artists, pastors and community leaders of color, the group advocates voting rights and police reform, leads what it calls a “whole life project” dedicated to reducing abortion and supporting mothers, endorses a “livable wage” and champions other issues that break left and right, in turn.
As we approach the midterms, Giboney graciously agreed to speak with me about the state of our politics from the perspective of a person of faith who is also a person of color — what it’s like to embrace traditional Christian theology while also opposing the political stances of many white evangelicals, and what it’s like to be committed to social justice in ways that differ from those of many secular progressives. This interview has been edited for clarity and concision.
How do voices of faith that are also voices of color fit into the American political conversation now? Do you feel represented?
I don’t feel fully represented. In part, that’s because the culture war has set a framework in which progressivism and conservatism, as defined in white majority spaces, are billed as the only two legitimate options. That framework has been so effective that a lot of people can’t even discuss politics outside of this “progressive versus conservative” framework.
But that’s not, historically speaking, how many Black Christians have engaged. Our view of social justice is often different than the secular progressive view. It’s not about individual expression. It’s about liberation through civil rights, equity, full citizenship and making sure that we have an impartial system. That’s not to say there’s no overlap. But, on the whole, the roots of the secular progressive view are in your 1970s counterculture movement, whereas ours come from an Exodus motif of liberation.
There’s no better example than Georgia’s senatorial race.
You have Herschel Walker, who I think is completely missing the social justice component found in the Black church.
And then Raphael Warnock, who has endorsed the secular progressive kind-of -donor-class view of social issues. These values deal primarily with expressive individualism, such as far-left positions regarding gender identity, abortion and pushback on parental consent. Jonathan Haidt has described them as WEIRD (White, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) values. He says, “they hold that people are, first and foremost, autonomous individuals with wants, needs and preferences” that should be supported unless they directly hurt others. These cultures largely focus on an ethic of autonomy. This is counter to an ethic of community.
In my opinion, Warnock is far more qualified than Walker. But neither of them truly represents the constituency in the way we would hope.
When I was running campaigns, it became very clear to me that there was this false dichotomy in politics. If you cared about social justice, you went all the way to the left. And if you were a Christian, that meant you left some of your convictions aside.
If you cared about what we would say is “moral order,” then you would go all the way to the right. And we know that when you look at the Moral Majority and things like that, compassion just was not there.
Looking at the Black church historically, it touched on both those things, but very differently. Why are social justice and moral order separate? Why is our conception of love and truth completely separate? Because when I look in the Gospels, they’re not separate. They’re interdependent. They’re not mutually exclusive.
As parties become more polarized, are we leaving behind voices of color?
I think voices of color are being left behind. The two extremes on both sides — devoted conservatives and progressive activists — are like 6 percent and 8 percent of the population, but they’re both white and wealthy. And they control the dialogue.
On the Democratic side, you could say, “We have all these conversations about inclusion and representation,” but Democrats don’t just welcome all Black people with open arms. You have to be willing to fit into this secular, progressive mold.
While people like to use civil rights and Black church symbolism and rhetoric, they don’t want the faith and the precepts that are attached to it. So I think it’s up to us to kind of step up and say: “No, here we are. We are a force to be reckoned with.”
What would it look like for parties to do a better job of including people of faith who are people of color? What would you say to white conservatives and white liberals?
On the right, you have to stop harboring and pandering to racists. I think there’s a group in the Republican Party — you saw this in the Trump campaign, you saw this with what Senator Tuberville recently said — who feel like they need these votes. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem like the Southern strategy has ever completely died.
You cannot continue to use race to motivate people who are bigoted. And when you don’t speak up against that, racism will remain in your party.
On the left, I think it’s about not demanding ideological purity. As long as everyone has to fit these donor class values, then you’re not going to let in people who have nuanced views. You’re only going to allow people to rise up to high office and party leadership that already fit what you want. Which kind of makes the representation and inclusion rhetoric disingenuous, right? True pluralism and true inclusion are more than just accepting different flavors of progressivism.
When you really appreciate Black people, that means you don’t just tolerate the Black people who say exactly what you would have them say on social issues or on any other issue. You can use identity politics to say, “Here, that’s your representation.” But that’s not my representation if that person had to jump through your hoops and contort herself to fit a framework that doesn’t fit her community.
Do you feel like Black people of faith are politically homeless today?
I absolutely do. I mean, you look at somebody like Fannie Lou Hamer or William Augustus Jones. These are activists who fought hard, but because of their beliefs on some social issues, they wouldn’t be accepted into leadership or given exposure within the Democratic Party today. Fannie Lou Hamer was pro-life and William Augustus Jones promoted a Christian sexual ethic and family values in general. These are civil rights legends who in today’s iteration of the party would not be accepted based on their more moderate or traditional values on social issues.
Do you understand yourself to be a moderate?
We’re not trying to find some squishy middle. We’re just not going to say we’re always with progressives or always with conservatives. If that makes me a moderate, because I’m not always on one side, then so be it. But I’m going to evaluate issues based on my own framework and beliefs.
The conservative and progressive approaches are not the only way to approach politics. Everything that doesn’t fit isn’t illegitimate. Once we realize those aren’t the only two approaches, then we open up space for people of color, people of faith and others who are politically homeless to really have a voice and help heal something that’s been broken and won’t be fixed by either of those two sides.
What is your hope for politics?
My biggest hope is that people of faith who want to engage in politics faithfully would find the AND Campaign to be a place where they can find resources to do that and have on-ramps to getting engaged in that way. And that we would — even though we’re coming from this Black church context — be able to bring the church together, to work together and put partisanship aside.
And lastly, that we would be able to promote a sort of civic pluralism. To say: “Hey, it’s not just about Christians winning. It’s about human flourishing in general.” How can we work with others while maintaining our convictions? How can we work with others to do democracy better?
Tish Harrison Warren (@Tish_H_Warren) is a priest in the Anglican Church in North America and the author of “Prayer in the Night: For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep.”
Source: Elections - nytimes.com
