"If you watch his program on a regular basis, you find that he has created a kind of alternative world view that he presents to his viewers," says Robert Boston of Americans United for Separation of Church and State. Boston is no fan of Robertson, it should be noted. He wrote the 1996 book "The Most Dangerous Man in America? Pat Robertson and the Rise of the Christian Coalition."
Boston describes the Robertson worldview this way: "The rest of society mocks evangelical Christianity, doesn't understand God's plan, is un-Christian. . . . Public school systems are out to corrupt your children, that Christians are persecuted like Nazis."
As Robertson's strange public statements have mounted in recent years, his political clout has diminished, and even fellow Christian leaders have tired of defending or explaining him, some observers say.
"Whether there are a lot of moms in Alabama or Kansas or Missouri who watch Pat [on television] every day while ironing, his own influence among the larger religious conservative movement has been on the wane for some time and is largely torpedoing," says Michael Cromartie, director of the Evangelicals and Civic Life Project at the Ethics and Public Policy Center.
"On the conservative side politically, everybody's avoiding this guy and trying to figure out how not to make him mad and, at the same time, not make him an ally," he said.
There are so many contradictions to Robertson. He is a Christian who advocates killing.
He opposes gambling and yet was involved in professional horse racing. (He disbanded his racing stable, including a horse named "Mr. Pat," amid criticism in 2002 of his racing interest.)
He was a credible presidential candidate in 1988, even besting a sitting president (George H.W. Bush) in an Iowa caucus.
A mere three years later, he showed himself far outside the mainstream when he penned "The New World Order," which alleged a web of historic connections involving the Illuminati, Free Masons, Rothschilds, Warburgs, Trilateral Commission, Council on Foreign Relations and Satan, master of them all down through the ages.
Some commentators said the book carried a heavy dose of anti-Semitism, since the venal money men in it tended to be Jews. But in the years since "The New World Order" was published, Robertson's staunch advocacy for Israel (which he and other Christians justify because they believe Israel is key to the return of Jesus Christ) has won him high marks from some conservative Jewish commentators.
"The guy is going to Israel and speaking up for Israel and shaking hands with Jews," says William Kristol, editor of the Weekly Standard. "The 'lived reality' is, yeah, he has some wacky views. On the other hand, he's not seeking to put them to any effect."
Kristol says he's more troubled by a different Robertson contradiction: He is a religious leader who has been an apologist for an impressive list of dictators: Rios Montt of Guatemala, Mobutu Sese Seko of the former Zaire, Charles Taylor of Liberia. (He even did business with the latter two, attempting diamond and gold mining deals in Zaire and Liberia, respectively.)
"That's different from having some oddball views," says Kristol. "For me, that puts Robertson in a bad category."
Over the years, Robertson explained his advocacy for dictators in terms of the Cold War: Mobutu and Montt, he would say, were anti-Communist. And Taylor, he would say of the Liberian leader in more recent times, was a Christian leader facing the surge of Islam in Africa. Never mind that Taylor was associated with rebels who routinely amputated civilians' hands; never mind that he would be indicted as a war criminal. Robertson's involvement with Zaire and Liberia ran counter to U.S. State Department policies.
Herman Cohen, assistant secretary of state for Africa from 1989 to 1993, says Robertson's dealings with Mobutu were viewed in Foggy Bottom as a joke, an example of Mobutu scamming yet another American, as was his pattern.
"Mobutu kind of conned him, probably says, 'I'm a great Christian,' " Cohen says.
Typically, Robertson's controversies create a temporary burst of outrage or interest that fades after a few days. He moves on to other targets, other subjects: from Chavez to Miers, for instance -- while the evangelical movement is left to decide once again how to position itself toward its controversial elder.
"The strengths of our movement are also its hamstrings," Cizik says. "Charismatic leaders, entrepreneurial in nature, who are populist and nonacademic, succeed with many of our constituents. But therein is also the flaw of evangelicalism for decades, namely the failure to develop a public theology or a more sophisticated political engagement."
