Tilting At "Secular Humanism"

By Alain L. Sanders

The scene evoked another sultry July day 61 years ago. Once again old-time religion and modern-day secularism prepared to duel at a controversial trial. One more time, the setting was a community nestled in the rolling landscape of eastern Tennessee's Bible Belt. The two contending legal titans at that first encounter, Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan, are now part of history. Gone also is Science Teacher John Scopes, accused and eventually convicted of illegally teaching Darwin's theory of evolution, that humans and apes share a common ancestry. Still, the memory of the historic 1925 clash lingered as the crowd assembled in the high-ceilinged federal courtroom in Greeneville. What many have labeled the "monkey trial" of the 1980s was about to begin. The culprit this time: a series of textbooks used to teach grade schoolers how to read.

Last week a group of Fundamentalist Christian parents formally opened their legal attack against the Hawkins County public schools. Led by Vicki Frost, a 34-year-old mother of four, the Fundamentalists want to shield their children from basic readers put out by the publishing firm of Holt, Rinehart & Winston and used by 15,000 school districts in all 50 states. The group objects to the books in part because they "teach other forms of salvation, other than faith in Jesus Christ alone." The parents demand that their children be allowed to use alternative textbooks more in line with Fundamentalist beliefs.

Frost, who bore a copy of the Bible as she came to court, took the stand last week to inveigh against the textbooks' endorsement of what Fundamentalists call "secular humanism," a doctrine that, they charge, elevates man at the expense of God. Frost complained that the books promote pacifism, child rebellion, situational ethics and feminism. She censured readings that reverse traditional roles for boys and girls. She objected to a story for its line "language makes us human," explaining that the sentence implies that mankind evolved and was not created by God. And she criticized materials accompanying The Forgotten Door, a short novel in which a child tells a lie in order to protect someone. The teacher's edition of the text suggests to instructors that they discuss in class whether a "fib" can sometimes be a "kindness." Frost maintained that the Bible gives an "absolute command" never to lie.

No one questions the sincerity of Frost's religious beliefs. But Timothy Dyk, a lawyer for the school board, protested that "there is no way this woman could attend public school and not be offended." School officials argue that the reading materials are appropriately designed to expose children to diverse views, cultural and religious. Permitting some students to use a different set of readers would be costly and disruptive, authorities assert. Says N.R. Coleman Jr., another member of the school board's legal team: "Lift the petticoat and look underneath, and it's just censorship."

The sparks generated by the Tennessee case have drawn two powerful lobbying outfits into the legal fray. People for the American Way, a civil liberties group, has marshaled resources to help defend the Hawkins County schools. Charges P.A.W. President Anthony Podesta: "If the Fundamentalists are successful, they will have established a right to a sectarian education in the public schools." But to the Concerned Women for America, a conservative group, the case represents a basic fight over religious freedom and the right to control the education of one's children. In a fund-raising letter, C.W.A. Founder Beverly LaHaye called the case "the first major legal battle which will establish the right of Christians to refuse to read material which offends their religious convictions."

The Fundamentalists are nothing if not determined. After being arrested in 1983 for trying to take her second-grade daughter out of class, Frost sued for false arrest and obtained a $70,000 judgment, which is now being appealed. Some Hawkins County children have been suspended for refusing to read the books. In Mobile, meanwhile, another group has brought a similar suit challenging the "secular humanist" teachings of the public schools. That case, backed by TV Evangelist Pat Robertson, a potential presidential candidate in 1988, is scheduled to go to trial this October.

In their suit against the Hawkins County schools, however, the Fundamentalists appear to be on fragile legal ground. Federal Judge Thomas Hull, who is hearing the case without a jury, must find not only that the required readings are a burden on the plaintiffs' freedom of religion but also that there is no overriding governmental interest to justify using the books. In a 1968 case, Epperson vs. Arkansas, the U.S. Supreme Court suggested that it would look with disfavor on attempts by the state to cater to one particular religion. "There is and can be no doubt," the Justices said, "that the First Amendment does not permit the state to require that teaching and learning must be tailored to the principles or prohibitions of any religious sect or dogma." Ironically, the reasoning was used to strike down an Arkansas statute patterned after the Tennessee law that snared Science Teacher Scopes.

The legal and political terrain faced by Frost and her allies has changed considerably since the day Scopes went on trial, even in the pres-ent era of Reagan conservatism. For one thing, the state of Tennessee has switched sides. In 1925 the state prosecuted Scopes; today the Tennessee advocate general is backing the school board against Frost. For the most part, the local community has been unreceptive to the Fundamentalists' claims. No matter which way the monkey trial of the 1980s comes out, the case has already demonstrated that history never does quite repeat itself.

With reporting by Patricia Delaney/Washington and Don Winbush/Greeneville