Why Christians, including Tim Kaine, are conflicted about execution
Kaine and the death penalty
TO JUDGE by some studies, American Christians have very confused feelings about the death penalty. Last year, Pew Research, a pollster based in Washington, DC, published evidence confirming some things you would intuitively expect: white evangelicals support the ultimate punishment by a far greater majority (71-25) than do Americans in general (56-38) or the religiously unaffiliated (48-45). Although their church (at least in the modern era) firmly opposes execution, the procedure was supported by most Catholics (53-42) and an even greater majority of white Catholics (63-34).
In 2014, a survey by Barna research, a smaller pollster focusing on religious trends, found that self-identified Christians were slightly more likely than Americans as a whole to believe that the ultimate penalty should be available to the government in extreme cases. But younger American Christians, whether practising or nominal, seemed much less keen than their parents on execution. Only 23% of practising Christians born after 1980 backed the penalty.
And regardless of their own beliefs, Christian respondents seemed convinced that the founder of their faith was an opponent of punishing people with death: only one in 20 says Jesus of Nazareth would be a supporter of judicial killing. All that suggests that there must be a lot of Christians who believe in the death penalty themselves but accept that Jesus Christ, who after all suffered that penalty himself, would be on the other side of the argument. Perhaps that’s not so surprising. Some would say it’s part of human nature to subscribe, at one level, to the loftiest ideals and at the same time, make massive compromises with life’s harsh realities.
But there can’t be many Christians who have experienced so much conflict, not just in their views but in their actions, as Tim Kaine. Hillary Clinton’s running-mate is a devout left-wing Catholic whose formative experiences included working for the Jesuits in Honduras. He is both a principled opponent, and a practitioner, of the ultimate punishment. As a lawyer, he took on two pro-bono capital punishment cases. In one instance he shared his client’s final moments including a meal and a celebration of Mass. But as governor of Virginia, he oversaw 11 executions and in only one case did he grant clemency on ground of mental health.
“The hardest thing about being a governor was dealing with the death penalty,” he told NCR, a Catholic news service. “I hope on Judgment Day that there’s both understanding and mercy, because it was tough.”
Negotiating the issue wasn’t just personally difficult for Mr Kaine, it also posed some political dilemmas. During his campaign for governor, he was subjected to “attack ads” which derided his alleged soft-heartedness over the death penalty, describing him as a person who wouldn’t even want Hitler to be executed. He responded with a formula which remained his stated position as governor: whatever his personal feelings about execution, he would respect the law of the land and the decisions of its courts, as his oath required him to do.
Some would see a similar act of contortion in his liberal position over abortion, which has earned him high ratings from pro-choice campaign groups like Planned Parenthood. “I’ve got a personal feeling over abortion, but the right role for government is to let women make their own decisions,” he has said. But it is the question of execution which has affected, perhaps even haunted, his own life most.
As far as anyone can judge, there is nothing phony about Mr Kaine’s Catholic commitment. Having experienced life at the sharp end in Honduras, and having lost some friends in that country’s mayhem, he is a natural supporter of Pope Francis and the pontiff’s brand of radical Hispanic Catholicism. He says he was moved to tears by the pontiff’s address to Congress.
But the would-be vice-president is also a consummate politician, who doubtless sensed that being an unconditional foe of the death penalty would have made him virtually unelectable in a state like Virginia.
Critics on both left and right may call Mr Kaine a hypocrite or chameleon. But perhaps that misses the point. It is not so much the politicians, as the voters, who are conflicted. Many want their politicians to be idealists, even utopians, and at the same time to deliver the “closure” that comes from retribution. Even though support for the death penalty—and the frequency of executions—is falling in America (see article), a majority of voters still support the practice. For better or worse, politicians feel they have to respond accordingly.
