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NEW
CAMPUS REBELS For the first time in forever, I am in a room full of people who believe George W. Bush is a good guy doing a good job being president, even though — many of them concede — he doesn't have the best public speaking skills. This group is the UO's College Republicans (CR) club, as fresh-faced and clean-cut as a Tommy Hilfiger print ad. This first meeting I attend starts with seven people — five young men and two young women — as well as a few stragglers who join a little late. Grand total: nine attendees. (I am assured twice that this is a low turnout, that there were close to 18 people at the previous week's meeting.) To start things off, we are pledging allegiance to the American flag, hung prominently from a dry erase board cabinet at the front of one of the Century rooms on the Skylight level of Erb Memorial Union. At the phrase "…one nation, under God," several voices emphasize, bellow even, the word God, with sidelong glances that say, "Yeah, you heard me — I said 'God.' You got a problem with that?" Welcome to what's being called the new college rebellion: backlash against atheism and free love; backlash against government handouts and affirmative action; backlash, essentially, against modern liberalism and the presumption that college campuses are solely hotbeds of liberal thinking. A May 2003 article in The New York Times Magazine indicates conservatism is gaining popularity on campuses across the nation; a poll released last month by Harvard University's Institute of Politics (IOP) also indicates a growing conservative persuasion among college students: IOP polled 1,202 students nationwide and found that they generally support President Bush. More than half — 61 percent to be exact — approve of Bush's performance as president. (This is about 10 percentage points greater than the public at large.) This same study found that 75 percent of polled students "trust the military to do the right thing." A number of studies also show a spiritual revival on college campuses, with more and more students placing importance on religious and spiritual activities as part of student life. One theory on this campus trend toward conservatism points to the events of 9/11 as the motivation for more politically conservative values. However, well before 9/11 in a March 7, 1999 editorial for The Washington Post, Paul Weyrich, president of the Free Congress and Education Foundation, whose mission is "fighting the culture war and returning America back to its traditional conservative roots …" writes, Today, the old rules of conduct are not merely broken, they are scorned. The ideology we know as political correctness — it is really Marxism translated from economic into cultural terms — proclaims the old virtues to be vices and the old vices to be virtues. … So what is to be done? Continuing with a strategy that has failed is folly and guarantees defeat. Instead of attempting to use politics to retake existing institutions, my proposal is that we cultural conservatives build new institutions for ourselves: schools, universities, media, entertainment, everything — a complete, separate, parallel structure. In every respect but politics, we should, in effect, build a new nation among the ruins of the old. … If we do not, the cultural Marxists can and undoubtedly will mobilize the full force of the state to destroy us. Like all ideologies, political correctness has totalitarian ambitions, as can be seen on many a university campus. More paranoid minds might conclude that this current conservative backlash has been in orchestration since long before recent terrorist attacks and the war on Iraq.
CONSERVATIVE'S ANGELS In the range of conservatism at the UO, College Republicans makes up the more traditional, morally conservative end of the spectrum. All but one of the 10 CR students I interview for this story have strong Christian backgrounds and values, as well as relatively active religious lives today. While some admit to a moderate amount of carousing, stances on alcohol and drugs tend to fall into the just-say-no or just-say-not-too-much category. In my first CR meeting the discussions range from what "business casual" means for the club's upcoming Young America's Foundation conference in Santa Barbara, to what they should do for their "101 Things to Do on Campus" project — a laundry list of events to get the conservative message out there. Suggestions include setting up a Dunk-a-Liberal booth, as well as a real Coming out Day, not for homosexuals but for conservatives (whom these student consider as maligned a minority on the UO campus as any other).
Someone offers Femi-Nazi Appreciation Day. (Warning: The notes on these meetings read much like an Archie Bunker monologue. There's a feeling of an old boys' club, only there are also Republican girls who blithely refer to themselves as such — girls.) "Yeah, we could have Margaret Sanger Appreciation Day," says veteran CR member and grad student Scott Austin. "She believed African Americans should be sterilized …" (His logic, he later explains to me, is that Sanger was both a feminist and someone who advocated for eugenics, showing that all things feminist do not necessarily equal all things good.) There is just one awkward beat before CR chair Jarrett White groans, "Aw, geez … Does anyone have anything else?" The group eventually decides to rally behind a Cold War Appreciation Day, with visions of reconstructing a segment of the Berlin Wall to destroy in celebratory recognition of communism's fall. As chair of CR, White carries a gavel at most meetings. With his dark hair and eyebrows and the angles of his face, he is reminiscent of a young Tom Cruise — the comparison is even more apt given the ease he seems to enjoy being at the front of the room and his skill at holding his audience's attention. He keeps the CR meetings running at a snappy pace, shooting sarcastic zingers at members for a laugh, and pounding the gavel when he feels the meetings have become too loose and unwieldy. He insists on individual member participation on all projects, but is able to do so in a manner that is part camp counselor, part dictator. On more than one occasion, statements that could easily be construed as slurs against women or people of color fly stealth through meeting discussions. When I ask White about this one-on-one, he says, "We don't take ourselves too seriously. We are not PC, and [the idea is] not to be afraid that we're not PC. I might say stuff, but I expect and can take this stuff coming at me, too." (It should be noted, there are no students of color in the College Republicans to send zingers in response, though the makeup of the club meetings I attend includes one-third to one-half women. I am assured more than once that CR did, at one time, have African-American members, but that schedule conflicts this year have limited their participation.) Eugene born and bred, as well as a grad of North Eugene High School, White is the youngest of four children born to his businessman father and UO-employed mother. He wouldn't describe himself as a necessarily flawless academic type. In fact, he concedes, his grades played a factor in changing his major recently after three years of study from business administration to political science. "I just had too much on my plate," he says. "I'll be the first to admit that my grades weren't cutting it. But I do still want to go to graduate school and get a business finance degree." With regards to how White describes his values, he says, "I've just noticed I was always a little more hard-nosed about things. Not necessarily less empathetic, but having more focus on individualism, that people don't have a responsibility to society necessarily — we have a responsibility to ourselves and to our families; if we can take care of that, then we shouldn't have to deal with society because then everything takes care of itself." From a very young age, White says jokingly (or ironically, depending on your leanings), "I was brainwashed by my brother." Twelve years older, this brother, White explains, has been "talking to me about politics since I was, like, 5." It all started when White was in kindergarten. "I went up to my brother and said, 'You know John, I'm mad. I don't think that it's very fair that some kids at school get free lunches, and some people have to pay for it.' And so, that was my first real conservative thing." This is White's second year as CR chair. Like many other students in CR, he sought out the club almost as soon as he arrived on the UO campus in hopes of finding conservative cohorts in an academic culture of popular liberalism. He has had his share of run-ins with professors and classmates over differing political views, even, he says, having been called a fascist outright by one teacher. "There's elitism on both sides," he says, referring to the common conception that Republicans are only rich, older, white males, and that liberals accept all views. When I ask about whether or not he has serious political ambitions, White says, "I started out wanting to change the system. I see now that I can inspire people to an extent, but politics is really my passion, not my work. I just love to challenge people. I love to make people mad." CR is vice-chaired by Gabrielle Guidero, a 26-year-old geology major. She and her husband, Michael (also 26 and an LCC student), are both active members of CR. She is the picture of professional pretty, with fair skin that glows next to neatly bobbed dark hair. Her fine features, however, belie a shrewdness and mettle that are dedicated to her conservative values. Having been born in Eugene and later moving to Bend, she does not believe that Eugene is really a cross-section of political beliefs. "People in Eugene think they're a cross-section but it's taboo to call oneself conservative here." She explains, "After 12 years in central Oregon, my political beliefs really got clear on returning to Eugene for college. I wasn't terribly active until I came here. In fact, I thought fairly differently in high school, and I attribute a lot of that to teachers pushing beliefs on me, stating them as facts rather than beliefs. I think it took becoming a adult to realize that other adults don't know everything." Guidero is not the only convert to conservatism: Twenty-three-year-old political science major and Clackamas Community College transfer Lucas Szabo (who in the ultimate irony looks the tiniest bit to me like George Stephanopoulos) would have characterized himself at one time as part of the "anti-capitalist/anarchist scene." "But," he explains, "as time went on and going through classes and you know, having life experiences, I kind of rejected, like, the whole revolutionary framework. A professor I had pretty much hit it on the head one time: We were talking about the Khmer Rouge, this was a class on Vietnam and foreign policy stuff, and he said, 'If anyone comes along preaching the utopian ideal, watch out.' I started to read more about communism and radicalism and stuff and it's just based on a bunch of false pretenses. Any time revolutionaries, like, win anything, things don't get better; they either stay the same or get a whole lot worse." Szabo and his girlfriend Adrienne Phillips are visual proof that conservatism doesn't just dress in khakis and polo shirts, pearls and shoulder-padded suits anymore. In his heavy black hooded sweatshirt, dark jeans, and style-y black eyeglass frames, Szabo still looks the part of his alterna-punk days. And Phillips, raised in an "incredibly conservative" and religious home, seems quite the bohemian in vintage clothes, bobbed curls and stylized make-up touches. I was shocked when I saw them with CR, thinking, "Is this what conservative looks like?" (On a related note, neither Phillips nor Szabo listens to country music or Christian rock. She loves Elvis, and his musical tastes still tend toward the obscure. Out of about 20 students I talked to for this story, three expressed a distinct preference for country music — Toby Keith is considered "the man," and only one mentioned Christian rock as a favorite.) Within the Campus Republicans, there are a few students
who have taken political involvement past the club stage to the next
level — running for public office. In 2002, at the suggestion
of Lane County Republican's Bob Avery, strapping senior and brother
of the Delta Upsilon fraternity Greg McNeill (who ardently defends Richard
Nixon against his chest-beating Ronald Reagan-loving cohorts, and whose
cell phone rings to the tune of "The Star Spangled Banner") ran for
state House representative for District 8 against Floyd Prozanski. McNeill
didn't win, but it was definitely a learning experience for this young
man who is seriously interested in a And then there is Scott Austin, an enigmatic young man from Pendleton whose political, intellectual and Biblical studies are sharp enough to cut any opponent to the quick. He ran unsuccessfully for state Senate against Susan Castillo back in 1998. Austin is something of a force to be reckoned with. A licensed teacher and UO grad student, he currently teaches high school social studies, with an emphasis in government, history and economics; he intends to put a perspective out there that challenges what he sees as liberal indoctrination through the school system. He freely admits, "I'm probably purely a fascist." (A fascist who, by the way, enjoys the occasional song by Britney Spears and *NSYNC, as well as most Southern rock style music.) He thinks most of the general public is made up of morons. "I don't trust direct democracy, because I don't trust people." Austin is extremely bright (I suspect he could be genius-IQ material) and an articulate speaker. However, such comments as his Margaret Sanger Appreciation Day suggestion have contributed to his reputation for being extremely extreme. There is something sort of curmudgeonly about Austin, though he is only 26 years old; he is set in his ways and fiercely opinionated in the manner of a conservative twice or even three times his age. While he is articulate, he sprinkles his more heated responses in our interview with fuck-shits, good-God-damned-wells, shit's-sakes and are-you-fucking-kidding-me's? He plans to marry a woman with "traditional" values who won't question his authority as head of the family. Ten years from now, he hopes to be "outside this shit hole," teaching full time and heading up a family of his own. "We're talking barefoot and pregnant," he says without a trace of irony.
THE HELLIONS The UO's Oregon Commentator (OC, www.oregoncommentator.com)has a staff that exudes less of CR's Tommy Hilfiger all-Americanism and more of the bawdy, boisterous college energy from Animal House. This end of the UO's conservative spectrum tends to be less concerned with moral conservatism, and much more focused on fiscal conservatism and a strong stance on individual liberties; several staff members describe themselves in part as Libertarians.
This is a group of people who are fairly regularly referred to as fascist, misogynistic, homophobic and hateful. And they seem to almost wear those descriptors as badges of honor. According to its mission statement: "The Oregon Commentator is an independent journal of opinion published at the University of Oregon … providing students with an alternative to the left-wing orthodoxy promoted by other student publications, professors and student groups. During its nineteen-year existence, it has enabled University students to hear both sides of issues. Our paper combines reporting with opinion, humor and feature articles. We have won national recognition for our commitment to journalistic excellence." To be raising such heat that readers would hurl names at the paper both fulfills their mission statement and evokes sheer joy at having rankled the masses. Editor Tim Dreier (who would love to see a President Condoleeza Rice) is a wiry, semi-spiky haired economics major who combines trench coat and sneakers in a way that kind of works. He runs editorial meetings that feel a little like stand up comedian joke-offs with some news and substance sprinkled in. The upper echelon staff includes Managing Editor Brett "Irish" Callahan, who snorted sugar for a laugh in an article for this year's first issue; Production Manager Jeremy Jones, whose apartment is conveniently located above the bar that OC frequents before editorial meetings, after editorial meetings, after the paper goes to print, before starting the new paper, etc.; Associate Editor Colin Elliot, who seems one of the more level-headed of the bunch; and Copy Chief Courtney Sweet, a political independent from Nevada with an LSAT score one point higher than Harvard's average. In the spirit of diversity, OC runs a regular column by more liberal thinkers such as Englishman-in-Eugene Olly Ruff, a doctoral student in mathematics, and Ryan Earley an Honors College student. As per Callahan's sugar snorting, this staff is all about getting the laugh, even, or maybe especially, the laugh fueled by bad taste. Case in point: The first issue of this school year is titled "Back to the Booze," and includes this pull quote on p. 14: "If you are a hippie, take a God damn bath and get a job, you lazy, socialist fuck…" (For what clarification this might provide, the pull quote is from "The 2003-2004 OC Guide to Survive." Feedback on this first issue included comments from an alumnus who noted that the f-bomb had been used with maybe overzealous frequency throughout the issue.) For as offensive and crude as the writing might portray them, the OC crew is a bright and motivated group. They put out a magazine twice a month, and the common goal is, albeit from a conservative perspective, to fill the gaps they see in the campus's mainstream paper The Oregon Daily Emerald. (Imagine my confusion and mild dismay to find that OC stands in similar position to ODE as EW stands to the R-G.) They get along genuinely well as a staff, and the members I talk to value the social aspects of the group as much as the journalistic pursuits. Good thing for the social aspect, because you can imagine the difficulty in widening one's social circle when you've just printed an issue of your magazine that drops the f-bomb on just about every prominent group on campus.
THE FUTURE After their YAF trip to Santa Barbara, about 15 CRs convene for the weekly meeting to debrief on what they learned at the conference. Jarrett White is fired up from a talk by Ward Connerly, author of Creating Equal: My Fight Against Race Preferences and founder/chairman of the American Civil Rights Institute. White says to the College Republicans, "We at the college level want to do things that are outrageous. We wonder if this is what the party wants, if it's good for the party. Ward Connerly says yes. He wants us to be outrageous, to get in people's faces." The club hums with excited inspiration, and they move in to plan their Berlin Wall project; to create a Rapid Response Team that will get conservative letters-to-the-editor sent in to ODE regarding any anti-American or one-sided journalism; to debate the notion of recall and the value of Schwarzenegger as governor of California; to further the mission, goals and values of a new conservative corps of youth.
ABOUT THE BENJAMINS Conservative student groups find support, including in some cases support of a financial nature, from organizations such as The Collegiate Network, The Heritage Foundation and The Leadership Institute. Such organizations offer ways for student groups to network with conservatives on both regional and national levels; in the case of organizations such as The Collegiate Network and The Leadership Institute, students may receive funding to back such projects as conservative student newspapers or sponsoring conservative speakers to make appearances on campus. (According to The Washington Times article "Rebels on the Right" by Steve Saxton, as many as 10 conservative publications have sprouted on campuses across the nation, bringing the total to something like 70 conservative publications nationwide. The UO's Oregon Commentator has in the past received funding through The College Network, but they rely now, like other UO groups, primarily on their cut of funds from the ASUO Incidental Fees pool.) Phil Palisoul, a recent graduate of UC San Diego (after transferring there from the UO), currently works out of La Jolla, Calif., as West Coast coordinator for the Campus Leadership Program. His job is to visit conservative campus groups up and down the West Coast and offer support through the Leadership Network. During one College Republican meeting I attend, Palisoul is courting the UO CRs with opportunities for the group to learn how to improve outreach skills to grow the CR club, as well as how to use grassroots strategies to mobilize that club and continue getting the conservative message out to the masses. Palisoul says that he's seen growth in conservatism up and down his West Coast beat, and that he's seen particular growth and activity in the UO club since his days in Oregon. The Leadership Institute could be a way for UO to plug into this bigger college movement toward conservatism. In the end, the money flows both ways between student
groups and support networks: A November 2003 article by Meghan O'Donnell
for The Center on Public Integrity shows that the College Republican
National Committee, a group made up entirely of college students and
recent graduates, has become one of the most successful youth-oriented
fund-raisers in the country, spending more than |
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