The
anti-evolution campaign of the 1920s might never have happened without
the
leadership of an austere, upright Baptist minister from Minneapolis,
William B. Riley. In a state far north of
the Bible Belt and
short on Baptists, Kentucky-born Riley built a 3,000-member downtown
congregation based and emerged as the dominant figure in American
fundamentalism. Riley’s distinctive
brand of fundamentalism combined social activism, puritanical moralism,
and a
literalist premillennialist theology. In
his 1906 book urging Christians to serve the urban poor, Riley defined
the
mission of the Church as he saw it: “When the Church is regarded as the
body of
God-fearing, righteous-living men, then, it ought to be in politics,
and as a
powerful influence.” (EL, 35-36)
Riley
threw himself into politics. Seeing
liquor as the source of most urban problems, he became an outspoken
advocate
for prohibition. Following the adoption
of the Eighteenth Amendment in 1919, Riley turned his attention to
another threat
to Christian life: “the new infidelity, known as modernism.”
Riley
invented the label “fundamentalist” and became the prime mover in the
movement
that took that name. That year Riley
brought together 6,000 conservative Christians for the first conference
of an
organization he founded, the World Christian Fundamentals Association
(WCFA). Riley warned delegates that
mainline Protestant denominations were coming increasingly under the
sway of
modernism. (EL, 36) Riley
urged them to stand by their traditional
faith in the face of the modernist threat: “God forbid that we should
fail him
in the hour when the battle is heavy.”
For his own part, Riley led the effort to purge the Northern
Baptist
denomination of liberals. (PC, 67-68)
Although
his Fundamentalist movement began as a reaction to the growing
popularity of
“higher criticism” (the view that the Bible is best understood in the
distinct
historical and cultural context which produced it), Riley soon
identified the
growing acceptance by modernist religious leaders of evolution as the
infidelity most threatening to Christian values. Riley
made the teaching of evolution in the
public schools his number one target.
Evolution, he declared, was the “propaganda of infidelity,
palmed off in
the name of science.” (GMT, 52-53)
By
1922, the WFCA was actively promoting its anti-evolution agenda around
the
country. In Kentucky, Baptists pushed an
anti-evolution
law that lost by only a single vote in the House of Representatives. The WFCA began lobbying for similar
legislation in several other states.
Using the four months each year his congregation granted his to
devote
to evangelism, William Riley roamed the country campaigning against
evolution
in public speeches and offering to debate evolutionists wherever he
could find
them. By the beginning of 1923, Riley
could report in a letter to William Jennings Bryan, “The whole country
is
seething on the evolution question.”
(EL, 43) Riley debated a science
writer Maynard Shipley before large crowds up and down the West Coast. Bryan cheered
his efforts, observing in a letter, “He seemed to have the audience
overwhelmingly with him in Los Angeles,
Oakland, and Portland. This
is very encouraging; it shows that the
ape-man hypothesis is not very strong outside the colleges and
[modernist]
pulpits.” (EL, 123)
The
WFCA--in editorials probably written by Riley--attacked evolution in
vituperative terms. The editorials
denounced evolution as inconsistent with the Bible, bad science, and as
a
threat to peace and morality. Teachers
who pushed this theory on “the rising generation” were called evil. By 1923, Riley in an article linked evolution
to “anarchistic socialistic propaganda” and labeled those who would
teach it
“atheists.” (By the 1930s, Riley’s
attacks became even more over-the-top, as when he warned of an
“international
Jewish-Bolshevik-Darwinist conspiracy” and congratulated Adolf Hitler
on his
attempts to confront such a conspiracy in Germany.) (EL, 44-45)
In
the period 1923 to 1924, Riley spent a great deal of time crusading
against
evolution in Tennessee,
which he viewed as especially fertile ground for anti-evolution
legislation. Memphis was a hotbed of
Fundamentalism and a
Baptist “stronghold.” The leading paper was stridently
anti-evolutionist. Across the state,
Baptists accounted for half
of the population. (EL, 48) Riley’s
efforts made evolution one of the hot issues of the 1924 state
election.
When
the fate of Tennessee’s
anti-evolution bill hung in doubt, William Riley and his major allies,
Billy
Sunday, Frank Norris, and William Jennings Bryan, roused the faithful
to write
letters and send telegrams to undecided legislators.
Without them, the fundamentalist victory
would never have happened. (EL, 53-55)
When
evolution proponents orchestrated their challenge to the new Tennessee law
in the spring of 1925, Riley
plotted the law’s defense. By chance,
the WFCA held its 1925 annual meeting in Memphis
and its featured speaker was Bryan. Bryan
commented on the upcoming trial in his address:
“I notice that a case is on the docket for trial involving the
evolution
statute of your state. I certainly hope
it will be upheld.” (EL, 98-99) Staying on in Memphis after the conference, Riley
and other
WFCA leaders decided to invite William Jennings Bryan, thirty years
removed
from courtroom action but widely perceived as the fundamentalist
movement’s
greatest orator, to join the prosecution team on the association’s
behalf. On May 13, Riley telegrammed Bryan
asking him to go to Dayton (WJB,
98-100) Bryan, on a speaking tour,
wired his acceptance back from Pittsburgh.
(GMT, 72)
The
prosecution originally slated Riley to testify at Dayton as a witness for the
prosecution. As the case developed,
however, the
prosecution recognized that a theological battle royal was not in its
interests. (EL, 131) If
the prosecution could convince Judge
Raulston to exclude scientific experts, they would be more than happy
to leave
Riley and other fundamentalist leaders on the sidelines.
Riley never took the stand.
=============================================================================================================
Riley
listens on July 13, 1925 as the enemy, in the person of defense
attorney
Clarence Darrow, defends modernism and argues that evolution and
religion can
stand together.
Darrow
tells the courtroom crowd that the Constitution protects “even the
despised
modernist, who dares to be intelligent.”
(T, 83) Roaming the courtroom in
his white shirt and suspenders, he paints a picture of a blissful Tennessee
happily doing
what it knew to be best—until Riley and his fundamentalist followers
made the
state a target of their anti-evolution agenda.
“Here
is the state of Tennessee going along in its own business, teaching
evolution
for years, state boards handing out books on evolution, professors in
colleges,
teachers in schools, lawyers at the bar, physicians, ministers, a great
percentage of the intelligent citizens of the state of Tennessee [are]
evolutionists. [They] have not even thought it was necessary to leave
their
church. They believed that they could
appreciate and understand their own simple doctrine of the Nazarine, to
love
thy neighbor, be kindly to them, not to place a fine on and not try to
send to
jail some man who did not believe at they believed—and got along all
right with
it too, until something happened….”
“They
believed that all that was here was not made on the first six days of
creation,
[but that] it had come by a slow process…extending over the ages, that
one
thing grew out another. There are people
who believed that organic life and the plants and the animals and man
and the
mind of man, and the religion of man, are the subjects of
evolution….[T]hey
believed [that God]…is still working to make something better and
higher still
out of human beings,…and that evolution had been working forever and
will work
forever—they believe it.”
“And
along comes somebody who says we all have got to believe it as I
believe it. It
is a crime to know more than I know.”
=============================================================================================================
Riley
reported on the trial in the WFCA newsletter. Both
reporters and defense lawyers earned
Riley’s wrath. In his attacks, he referred to “blood-sucking
journalists” and
called Clarence Darrow’s methods “unfair” and his questioning of Bryan
“conscienceless.”
(GE, 50) Nonetheless, when the battle in
Dayton
ended,
Riley proclaimed it a “significant conquest.” Byan, he wrote, “not only
won his
cause in the judgment of the Judge; in the judgment of the jurors; in
the
judgment of the Tennessee
populace attending; he won it in the judgment of an intelligent world.” (GE, 50)(EL, 205) He
confidently predicted that “every state in
the Union” would join a growing
anti-evolution
bandwagon. (GMT, 459)
Time
proved Riley wrong, and the WFCA’s obsession with the evolution
eventually
doomed the organization. In 1927,
despite a furious effort by Riley and his followers, the legislature of
his
home state of Minnesota
rejected a bill to ban the teaching of evolution by an eight-to-one
margin. The blow devastated Riley and
“signaled the end of William Bell Riley’s efforts to secure
anti-evolution
legislation.” (EL, 230)
By
1928, Riley became a fringe figure within his own denomination. In early 1930s, he preached a virulent form
of anti-Semitism and became a fascist sympathizer.
World War II finally softened his anti-Semitism.
In his last years, Riley persuaded evangelist
Billy Graham to replace him as head of three educational institutions—a
seminary, a Bible institute, and a college—he had established in Minneapolis. (PC, 68-71)
Graham, in his ministry, chose to ignore the Scopes trial. (EL, 261)
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