LE MARS, Iowa — There is a comforting certainty to life in this conservative hamlet 25 miles north of Sioux City, where Christian men gather every Wednesday at noon to be fortified by fellowship and prayer.
Folks are quite proud of the 10-foot-tall ice cream sundae statue at the center of town, a symbol of the 120 million gallons of Blue Bunny ice cream churned out annually here at the Wells family-owned dairy.
But these days, there is an uncertainty about politics and their civic responsibility that is unsettling.
Conservatives and evangelicals were largely at peace in the knowledge that their president shared their Christian values. But this year, they aren’t at all sure where to put their trust for 2008 — or whether they should even bother trying.
Listen to Rich Cargin, a construction business owner and man of faith, articulate his thinking on the GOP contest. “I like (Mike) Huckabee,” he says. “(Mitt) Romney — I wouldn’t hold it against him because he’s a Mormon, although I have to wonder. You have to wonder whether he or (Rudolph) Giuliani would put people on the bench that reflect my Christian values.”
So does this mean that Cargin can be counted on to attend the Jan. 3 caucuses and support Huckabee, an ordained Baptist minister? Not necessarily.
“There’s a football game that night. It’s going to be really tough.” The Orange Bowl is only one of the distractions plaguing Iowa’s Republican Party six weeks before the caucuses.
As Huckabee poll numbers take a huge leap in Iowa, GOP leaders fret that there’s not enough passion in the fractured party to propel voters to the caucuses, and they don’t know why.
“There is a void — a piece of the puzzle is missing,” laments Ray Hoffman, chairman of the state party. “There’s been a lot of waiting — waiting for (Newt) Gingrich, waiting to see if Fred Thompson would catch fire. Now, I think for a lot of committed conservatives, they wonder, do I just stand back or hold my nose and vote for someone I don’t agree with but who can maybe beat Hillary (Rodham Clinton)?”
In most ways, Le Mars is a paragon of Republican Iowa, where past exit polls show that about three-quarters of GOP caucus- goers identify themselves as conservatives, and more than one-third as evangelicals.
Huckabee, the former Arkansas governor with the affable manner, would seem to be the natural choice, and a Washington Post-ABC poll conducted recently shows his support in the state tripling since July — bringing him within striking distance of Romney’s well-heeled operation.
But do the people who say they favor him feel compelled to vote for him?
“How many of you are disgusted with politics?” asks Bob Vander Plaats, a regular at a weekly fellowship lunch.
All hands shoot up.
The men pledge to vote in the general election even if they skip the caucuses and are resigned to the fact that they may have to vote for — in their words — “the lesser of two evils.”
“I say we have to go vote because if we don’t vote, then all the women will vote and we’ll have a woman in the White House and then we got problems,” bellows Larry Timmons, who is in the construction business. This gets a huge laugh. But he’s serious.
“God,” he notes, “did not plan for a woman to run everything.”
Political experts have been perplexed that the evangelical community hasn’t rallied sooner and in greater force for Huckabee.
“My sense is that the rank and file on the religious right are waiting for cues from identifiable leaders like James Dobson or Tony Perkins,” says Cary Covington, associate professor of political science at the University of Iowa.
In nearby Sioux City, home to nearly 300 Christian churches, Jeff Moes, a soft-spoken pastor, is one of those who has nudged his congregation into a “new vision” of the process. “I am hearing ‘What difference does it make?’ ” he says. “They are less and less trusting of government.”
Moes, 44, says he tell his 1,000 congregants that the church has the responsibility to effect change. “We can’t rely on one man or the government any longer,” he says.
Moes says he has moved to Huckabee’s corner. John McCain seems “very negative, very angry,” he says, and Romney’s Mormonism “bothers more people than they care to admit.”
