League's dark vision divides Catholics: dispute over TV show affords new visibility - Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights led ny CEO William Donohue: TV program, 'Nothing Sacred' - Cover Story

National Catholic Reporter, Oct 31, 1997 by John L. Allen, Jr.

In America's culture wars, the controversy over ABC's "Nothing Sacred" marks the resurgence of a combatant: the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights and its president and CEO, William Donohue. Though critics question its impact, the league's ability to thrust itself into the conversation raises anew questions about what stance Catholics should take toward American society--and whose job it is to make that decision.

The Catholic League's vision of America as deeply anti-Catholic and antireligious evokes a dualism with which many are uncomfortable. Moreover, its claim to speak on behalf of Catholics is worrisome to those who don't share its conspiratorial social theories or its polemic approach.

"When there's blatant discrimination against Catholics, somebody should denounce it," said Jay Dolan, professor of history at the University of Notre Dame and the author of The American Catholic Experience. "But it's just not as widespread as they make it seem, and their reactions are so overblown as to be unhelpful."

However Catholics see the group--and it tends to produce a "love 'em or hate 'em" sort of response--the platform afforded the Catholic League by "Nothing Sacred" has raised its profile. As George Weigel, a noted Catholic writer and member of the group's board of advisers, put it, the Catholic League has emerged as "a player" in the struggle for America's conscience.

Personal flair required

The Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights was founded on May 12, 1973, by Jesuit Fr. Virgil Blum, just days after the Supreme Court rendered its judgment in Roe v. Wade. Blum--a law professor at Marquette University in Milwaukee--envisioned the league as a tool to fight a secularist judicial branch.

Blum, however, lacked the sort of personal flair required to be a public figure, and his administrative skills were described as lackadaisical even by his admirers. Things came to a showdown in 1985, when then-board chairman James Hitchcock, professor of history at St. Louis University and a conservative sympathetic to the league's goals, was so fed up with Blum's managerial fiddling that he forced a vote of no confidence. When it failed Hitchcock noisily resigned, predicting the Catholic League would be "dead in five years."

Blum survived that fight, but the league came close to fulfilling Hitchcock's prophecy. Following Blum's death in 1990, a series of ineffectual successors watched membership drop and bank accounts dwindle. In desperation, the board of directors turned in 1993 to William Donohue.

Donohue, who holds a doctorate in sociology from New York University, came to the job with sterling conservative credentials. He had worked at the Heritage Foundation, where he focused in part on the activities of civil rights groups, most notably the American Civil Liberties Union. He helped prepare George Bush for his 1988 debates with Michael Dukakis by briefing his advisers on the ACLU.

When he arrived at the Catholic League, Donohue decided to play up the anti-defamation aspect of the organization's mission. Rarely does a day go by now without the league remonstrating some body in the public eye, whether it's "20/20" or Whoopi Goldberg, for doing or saying something that offends Catholics.

"We've had a lot of success in spotlighting offenders" in popular culture, Donohue said. "It's faster and easier than dealing with lawyers."

It is also, of course, most likely to get Donohue and the Catholic League noticed. "There's no question that Bill Donohue knows how to attract the spotlight," Hitchcock told NCR. Hitchcock, though no longer connected to the league, credits Donohue with resurrecting it. "This shift ... has raised the organization's profile remarkably,n

One measure of success is the people Donohue has been able to attract to his board of advisers. The league's letterhead reads like a who's who of the Catholic right: Dinesh D'Souza, Michael Novak, Linda Chavez, Mary Ann Glendon, William Simon, Thomas Monaghan, Weigel, and others. It's a group that gives Donohue clout, especially when raising money--which he does with a vengeance.

He's been so good at money-raising that the Catholic League subsists entirely on thousands of individual donations. Donohue doesn't have to worry about some major corporate or ecclesiastical sponsor filling his coffers and thus influencing his agenda, a point of intense pride for him.

"Rich people have no effect on me," Donohue said. "They can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. We look for Joe Six-Pack. I'm not interested in white-collar Catholics looking to pull my chain."

A judgment call

So what counts for Donohue as anti-Catholic? "I don't have a theological micrometer in my pocket that lights up," he said. "It's a judgment call. When there's movement into disdain, disparagement and insults, it becomes our concern.

"We look at context. If it's a Mel Brooks movie, and they're beating up on Catholics, but also taking on blacks, Jews, gays and so forth--that's overall American humor. But if it's a gratuitous mention or aside, even if it's not blasphemy, what's the purpose of taking a cheap shot?"