August 27, 2024: American Catholics: Anti-Catholic Prejudice

[250 years ago this week, Elizabeth Ann Seton was born in New York City. The first US-born Saint, Seton is one of the most famous individual examples of an American Catholic, so this week I’ll analyze her and other American Catholic histories!]

On the frustratingly long reach of conspiracy theories.

My first-ever conference paper, way back in 2001, focused on Catharine Maria Sedgwick’s unique and compelling historical novel Hope Leslie, or, Early Times in the Massachusetts (1827); I’ve also written about the book multiple times in this space (including for one of my earliest posts back in November 2010), and would still argue a quarter-century after that conference and a decade and a half after that post that Sedgwick’s book is one of the greatest 19^th century American novels. But of course it’s not perfect, and one of its most glaring failings lies in both the intentions and the identity of its central villain, Sir Philip Gardiner (SPOILERS for this 200-year-old novel in what follows). Sir Philip presents himself as a new and important Puritan arrival to Massachusetts (the novel is set in the “early times” of the late 1630s, just after the Pequot War), but is gradually revealed to be a secret agent of the Vatican, working to infiltrate this Puritan colony and take it over on behalf of his evil Catholic masters. He and his youthful page (and secret lover) are also revealed to be cross-dressers, connecting this overarching anti-Catholic plotline to stereotypical images of Catholics as both morally and sexually transgressive among other sins.

It's also noteworthy that Sir Philip is both a secret Catholic and a new immigrant, as it has been through discriminatory narratives about both of those communities (in direct conjunction with one another) that anti-Catholic prejudices have manifested themselves most consistently in American history. That combination was at the heart of much of the anti-Irish xenophobia of the 1840s and the Know Nothing Party; played a significant role in the late 19^th century’s virulent and violent anti-Italian xenophobia; and was likewise central to the rise and anti-immigrant emphasis of the 1910s and 1920s Second Ku Klux Klan (and that period’s much broader immigration restrictions as well). At the core of each of those distinct but parallel anti-Catholic movements have been what I can only describe as conspiracy theories, visions of American Catholics as entirely under the sway of a manipulative and malignant Vatican (or Pope, or Cardinals, or priests, or whatever) and thus as owing allegiance to a foreign power in direct opposition to the U.S. Constitution (rather than, y’know, as protected in their religious practices and beliefs by that same Constitution, like every other person in the country).

Those conspiracy theories about American Catholic allegiance were never simply a fringe belief, even when they did not dominate national politics as they did in those particular and certainly extreme moments. But they reached a new level of prominence and potency with the 1960 presidential election and the very much mainstream fears that if elected president, the practicing Catholic John F. Kennedy would owe his first allegiance to the Vatican rather than the country he’d be leading. It’s certainly ironic that in our own moment, some of the most extreme political figures use their Catholic faith as a rationale for taking those profoundly reactionary positions (I’m looking at you, Catholics on the Supreme Court, and not just about abortion or birth control either). But while we can and should criticize that use of religion as a shield for hateful and hurtful views, we also have to make sure to resist any implication that Catholicism is in any way in conflict with American laws or ideals—an entirely inaccurate perspective that has been much too central for far too long in American history.

Next CatholicAmericanStudying tomorrow,

Ben

PS. What do you think? Catholic histories or contexts you’d highlight?