Religious Identity and Congressional Representation

Introduction and Background

Religion in Congress has always been somewhat contested. While the separation of church and state has been an alleged founding principle since day one, that has not stopped members of Congress from discussing and relying upon religion to influence the course of U.S. politics. As the scholarship on representation grows—and the number of religious minorities in Congress grows alongside it—one could question how intertwined the two are. Most scholarship on representation focuses on race and gender: how are racial minorities and women represented, how does a member’s racial or gender identity impact the way in which they represent, and how is that representation perceived beyond the halls of Congress? However, little has been said about the status of religious minorities in Congress. How does a representative’s religious identity impact their official work? In an ideal world, we could see into the minds of our legislators to understand their motivations. Instead, we must rely on their words and actions and infer from there. Through a series of case studies, I argue that representatives who belong to a religious minority will be more likely to engage in that religious identity substantively, but the perceptions of these representatives are less clearly understood on a religious level.

When we consider Congressional representation, two predominant schools of thought come to mind, especially regarding minority representation. One theory put forth by Stephens-Dougan is that of racial distancing, where politicians—regardless of race (though she predominantly focuses on Black politicians) or party status—distance themselves from positive stereotypes about racial minorities to signal to moderate and conservative whites that they will not seek to disturb the status quo (2020, 8). What this means for candidates of racial minorities is that they will actively distance themselves from their race, often by employing negative stereotypes about their own racial identity. And indeed, racial minorities are much more successful when employing these tactics than are their white counterparts (Stephens-Dougan 2020, 122). Of course, white politicians have no need to distance themselves from their racial identity, but this also suggests that minority politicians have a much stronger incentive to disregard their identity than white politicians have to regard any race at all. Distancing themselves from Black politicians who are perceived as preoccupied with race is seen as electorally beneficial, and preserving the status quo is the most rewarding. Ultimately, Stephens-Dougan predicts that this theory of racial distancing is increasingly applying to other minority populations, such as Latinos, Muslims, and immigrants (2020, 172).

On the other side of the coin, theories of descriptive representation and presentation of self invite us to expect the opposite from our members of religious minorities. Fenno’s discussion of presentation of self comes in his discussion of home style: how the representative acts when they travel home to their district (1977, 890). According to Fenno, the style is dedicated to making a presentation of the member’s self to their constituencies to achieve a particular “correct impression” (1977, 898). They seek to display themselves as a person—a good person, at that—who is trustworthy, proven by being someone qualified to lead, who identifies with their constituents, and is able to empathize with their constituents (Fenno 1977, 899). While Fenno is focused on home style, there is no reason to believe that a representative isn’t worried about remaining trustworthy in Washington, and if Fenno’s home style presentation of self theory remains true for representatives in Washington attempting to remain within the good graces of their constituencies, we should expect them to remain true to themselves, minority, or majority. For any representative of any religion to disregard a key aspect of their identity, especially one that may be a key aspect of their constituency, the implications could be politically disastrous.

Indeed, descriptive representation such as this between a religious minority in Congress and the ones at home can be beneficial. For a representative seeking to build trust with their constituents, looking like them is a good start. Representatives and voters who belong to the same minority groups can “forge bonds of trust based specifically on the shared experience of subordination,” and it has been shown that minority voters contact their minority representatives more often than they contact white representatives, meaning that being a substantive descriptive representative is invaluable (Mansbridge 1999, 641). Additionally, voters will seek out character cues like descriptive characteristics “to predict whether a particular candidate, if elected, will represent their interests” (Mansbridge 1999, 644). Descriptive representation is a boon for members of Congress, and it is something voters seek out, incentivizing representatives to emphasize their identity in their acts of representing.

But does religious identity even matter in Congress? Do politicians regard their religious identity at all? If they do not, then there would be no reason to examine how their religious identity presents itself in Congress, whether through active avoidance or engagement. Members of Congress have been found to regard their faith very highly and engage in religious activities often, despite their intense and often impossible workloads. More strikingly, religious importance can actually increase for many members under these conditions (Benson and Williams 1982, 69). In terms of voting in Congress, it has been regarded for some time that religion is a factor, alongside others such as party affiliation and constituent pressures, that openly influences the behavior of politicians (Benson and Williams 1982, 164-165). Benson and Williams even found that liberals and conservatives were remarkably similar in terms of religious beliefs and behaviors, and are equally likely to be behaviorally influenced by religion (1982, 144). Expanding on this work, especially as polarization has taken hold of modern politics, D’Antonio et al. found that religion is implicated in strengthening intraparty homogenization and deepening interparty differences, (2013, 101). However, despite this polarization, there remain several issues where religion defies party lines as a leading factor in vote decision-making (2013, 123, 128).

If we accept the racial distancing theory and Stephens-Dougan’s argument that this behavior extends to minority statuses beyond Black politicians, we should expect certain behaviors from politicians of various religious identities. At the least, members of Congress who identify with religious minorities, such as Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, etc. should actively disregard their religious identity in Congress. They should not be advocating for increased protections of constituencies within those groups, they should not be calling upon their religion to justify particular policy beliefs, and they could even exhibit behaviors that benefit a Christian majority (or at least do not upset the benefits it currently holds). We should expect members of the religious majority to have no issues relying on their religious identity, advocating for constituencies that belong to it, or using it to justify policy beliefs. Additionally, we might expect them to distance themselves from religious minorities. If, however, we believe in Fenno’s presentation of self, we should expect opposite behaviors from politicians of various religious identities. Members of Congress who identify with religious minorities should be actively seeking to engage their minority status in an effort of descriptive representation. They should seek to protect the interests of their minority constituency, celebrate their religious holidays, and bring their experiences as a member of that identity to Congress, influencing their behavior.

Results and Discussion

If one is curious about how Johnson’s religiosity influences his legislative behavior, Johnson might tell you that God is the foundation of his legislative behavior. In his acceptance speech after being elected Speaker of the House, he had this to say about the reason for his power:

I want to tell all my colleagues here what I told the Republicans in that room last night: I don’t believe there are any coincidences in a matter like this. I believe that Scripture, the Bible, is very clear, that God is the one that raises up those in authority. He raised up each of you, all of us. I believe that God has ordained and allowed each one of us to be brought here for this specific moment and this time. This is my belief.

In a search in the Congressional Records of Johnson’s name, there are a populated 175 results. However, in a search of his name and the religious terms, there are only 81 instances where Johnson’s name appears with the titles “God,” “Christ,” or “Christian.” Many of those results are either because of a House prayer; because other representatives use “God” or “Christ”; or because Johnson has “God blessed,” “God willed,” or “God forbid” someone or something. Relatively few are because Johnson himself has called upon God to direct a policy stance. What occurs more often is Johnson identifying with his Republican colleagues (though it is worth noting that many of those Republican colleagues are indeed calling upon God for their policy stances). In all, Johnson uses his religious identity meaningfully on the floor an incredible 41 times. Johnson turns to God for only two issues—the economy and abortion. In the same Speaker acceptance speech, he alludes to capitalism as his preferred economic policy, stating that Marxism and Communism are philosophies that “[begin] with the premise that there is no God.” Years earlier in 2019, Johnson espoused similar beliefs, that socialists are by definition atheists which fundamentally cannot align with our national motto, “In God we trust.” He also briefly mentioned that the U.S. has a right to use our “God-given resources to create jobs, foster economic growth, and pave the way” to U.S. energy dominance.

A majority of Johnson’s religious exclamations are on abortion—too many to mention them all—and Johnson is decidedly against the act. In one speech he followed Mr. Andrew Clyde’s religiously laden speech with “All glory to God. Thank you, my friend, for that strong word.” In 2023, Johnson drafted a resolution to condemn attacks against pro-life groups and to recognize the sanctity of life after the draft Dobbs v. Jackson was leaked. In the resolution, Johnson engages in sympathy with religious groups, condemning speech like “God loves abortion” and “God is a woman.” He has also cited scripture to justify his stance, at one point reading from Psalm 127: “Children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward from him.” Most concretely, he used God’s alleged opposition to abortion to direct his opposition to the Equality Act (117 H.R. 5).

Raskin, though elected and sworn in at the same time as Johnson, populates a whopping 367 results when his name is searched in the Congressional Record. Comparatively, only 92 populate when his name is searched in conjunction with “God,” “Moses,” or “Jew/Jewish.” Like Johnson, many of those are fellow representatives speaking those words during debate near Raskin’s name. In reality, there are only 9 instances where Raskin uses his religious identity meaningfully on the House floor. Unlike Johnson, however, Raskin uses his identity in a drastically different way. At no time does Raskin invoke God, scripture, or anything of the like to justify a policy stance. Instead, Raskin’s religious identity is used to justify protections for Jews as a group of people—he identifies with them, and therefore seeks to champion their protection and advancement. Most frequently, Raskin speaks out against antisemitism, especially since the events of October 7, 2023, and the subsequent protest movements on college campuses. On November 7 of that same year, Raskin opened a floor speech with an anecdote about Samuel H. Bellman, the first Jewish member ever elected to the Minnesota legislature, who was also Raskin’s grandfather. He uses the speech to affirm his Jewish identity in the face of burgeoning antisemitism. In another instance, Raskin reads off testimonials from Jewish, Muslim, Israeli, and Palestinian young people, who had interned for Raskin and other members of Congress, speaking on the state of the Middle East (even though the conversation was about the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act). As early as his first year in Congress, Raskin championed Jewish interests, even having read aloud letters from the American Jewish Committee.

Omar has comparatively even less connection between her faith and legislative activity. Omar publicly identifies as Muslim, with her identity visible through the practice of hijab. In a search of Omar’s name in the Congressional Record, there are 125 populated results, though this lower number could be explained by her being one term short of Johnson and Raskin. In a search of her name with the religious terms, there are a mere 23 instances where Omar’s name appears with the words “Allah,” “Muhammed,” or “Muslim.” Only six of those were Omar herself meaningfully using those terms. All of Omar’s religiously driven perspectives center on the protection and uplifting of Muslims both domestically and around the world, much like Raskin’s protection of Jewish people. In 2020, she spoke briefly against the colloquial “Muslim Ban,” and a year earlier she used the Muslim Ban as fuel to support her amendment to the Climate Action Now Act (116 H.R. 9), stating that some countries hit hardest by climate change are also “currently subject to an arbitrary and racist Muslim ban,” and we cannot turn our backs on them even more. In 2021, Omar spoke ardently in favor of the Combating International Islamophobia Act (117 H.R. 5665), which she also sponsored. More recently, she has taken a decisive stance in support of Palestine. Omar’s work seems to be fueled by fighting for her Muslim brothers and sisters, and not once does Omar call upon God or Allah in her floor speech.

The differences in reliance on religious identity are stark and play right into the presentation of self theory. While the members belonging to religious minorities are relying significantly less overall on their religious identity, which on its face could be more indicative of the racial distancing theory, the ways in which these members are engaging their religion paint a different picture. Raskin and Omar rely on their religion exclusively as a tool to highlight Jewish and Muslim Americans as a group of people needing representation. They actively seek protections for Jewish and Muslim Americans in their home districts, across the U.S., and even worldwide. They champion Jewish and Muslim interests and fight vocally as members of the group they’re fighting for. Johnson does nothing of this sort. While he relies on his religious identity on paper more often than the others, he does so only on a doctrinal and personal level. It seems he may be asking himself what his religion says about the way he should vote on a particular policy issue. He has no regard for Christians as a group of people needing protection, and does not fight on their behalf. In short, Johnson (a religious majority) relies on his religion on a personal, doctrinal level, while Raskin and Omar (religious minorities) rely on their religion on a representational level.

If Stephens-Dougan’s theory and racial distancing were at play, we would not expect Raskin and Omar to fight as openly about these issues the way they do, and we could even expect them to ally much more with the religious majority, but we do not see that. Instead, we see two minority religions actively advocating for the interests of the minority group they represent (i.e. descriptive representation). Raskin and Omar are identifying with their constituents as they fight for these initiatives, empathizing with them through their understanding of their daily challenges, and proving themselves qualified to lead these discussions as members of the same religious minority— hallmarks of self-presentation.

How these three are depicted in the news, however, is not as clearly pronounced. In a search of a database of newspapers, including national and local news sources across the U.S., Johnson appears in 10,551 total articles since his swearing in in January 2017, but is only described as a Christian in 23 of them. He is often associated with Christian nationalism or described as fighting on their behalf, but is not explicitly labeled Christian in many of them. Raskin, however, only appears in 4,094 total during his time in Congress, and 31 of them mention Raskin’s Jewish identity. Omar appears in 9,894 newspaper articles during her Congressional tenure, and a whopping 450 of them identify her as Muslim. Raskin and Omar face significantly less grey area in the news, and are either labeled as a religious minority or not. They are rarely described as fighting on behalf of Jewish or Muslim Americans without being labeled as one of the two themselves.

In a racial distancing mindset, this behavior may be expected. Johnson represents the status quo and, therefore, his status as a religious majority can be largely ignored, whereas Omar, both a religious and racial minority, would be singled out as a possible threat to the status quo. By this theory, however, Raskin, as a religious minority, should also be considered as such, yet he receives the opposite treatment as Omar, though his ratio of articles in which he’s identified as Jewish to total articles is much larger than Johnson’s. Fenno’s framework of presentation of self also does not fit perfectly. Omar, who openly practices hijab and advocates for Muslim interests on the House floor, is indeed then perceived as just that: a Muslim woman. However, Raskin’s advocacy for Jewish interests grants him some reception as such in the national news, especially since the events of October 7, 2023. Johnson’s stark reliance on God to justify his beliefs on abortion and the economy grants him little recognition as a Christian in the news—he is just another party-line Republican. It seems that, in terms of perception, other identifiers matter more than religion, such as race and political party.

As we reckon with religious identity as a relevant and important element of Congress and representation, we must continue to apply our arguments of representation to those identities and ask how religious identity impacts the way our Congresspeople represent and how the wider world perceives those efforts. Two predominant theories, racial distancing—which suggests that representatives of a minority identity will distance themselves from that identity and even engage with negative views of it to appeal to a moderate and conservative white constituency—and presentation of self—which suggests that representatives will seek to make themselves appear trustworthy through identification with constituents, empathy with them s, and seeming qualified, inviting a connection with descriptive representation—offer opposing perspectives on how religious identity impacts both the way representatives represent and how we perceive their actions. What we have observed is that the behavior in our case studies most exemplifies the presentation of self theory, where the members of minority religions speak openly in affiliation with and on behalf of their religious constituency. The perceptions of those efforts are, however, not as clear, where it seems that factors other than religious identity are stronger influences on representative perception. Further case studies of other religious identities in Congress, research on which identity metrics constituents care most about, and deeper insights into how religious minority status impacts electoral success are all essential for understanding how our representation functions. As the U.S. diversifies its religious constituencies, we must continue to explore how the status of minority and majority identities influences the work of our representatives, not just on a racial or gender scale, but on all metrics that reflect histories of injustices.