God, Country and McCain

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Liberty

An evangelical youth movement at Liberty University -- a fundamentalist Baptist institution founded by the Rev. Jerry Falwell -- has mobilized to support John McCain's presidential candidacy. Given McCain's clashes with religious conservatives during his 2000 campaign for president, the support he's receiving from conservative-minded students is significant.

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Both plan on spring internships abroad and then law school. But an Obama victory would not send these them into the wilderness. To the contrary, the fight would begin anew.

New Generation of Evangelicals

For now, the fight for McCain is still on.

On the cold and bleak Friday of homecoming weekend, Liberty holds a 10 a.m. church service for students in the 10,000-seat basketball arena. Convocation is mandatory three times a week, and this morning's service features a parade of sleepy students lugging laptops and coffee mugs. They wear skinny jeans and hipster high-tops and Ugg boots, but Liberty operates in a parallel universe from other colleges. Alcohol and sex are prohibited. Students caught watching R-rated movies are brought before a court of their peers. Bulletin boards around campus advertise "Pre-Marital Workshops" and the bookstore sells T-shirts that say "I [Heart] Christian Boys." An ad flashes on the screen at morning convocation for a workshop aimed at "Beginning the Process of Lust-Free Living."

Liberty's founder died last year, but a red basketball jersey with the name "Falwell" hangs front and center in the arena. The ghost of the fiery minister is everywhere, most prominently in his 46-year-old son, Jerry Jr., who now serves as the university's chancellor and carries out his father's vision of blending faith and politics. While the younger Falwell has not publicly endorsed a presidential candidate, he reminds students of the importance of their vote. "So much is at stake," he says from the stage. He announces that the Obama campaign has been in touch with Liberty about a possible appearance and he urges courtesy. "If they come, I hope you show them respect and don't shout them down like they do our folks," he says.

McCain was not the first choice for many at Liberty, owing in part to his strained history with the Christian right. While campaigning against Bush in the 2000 primaries, McCain accused the elder Falwell of being an "agent of intolerance" along with Pat Robertson and said both preachers were pulling the GOP toward extremism. But when McCain began gearing up in 2006 for another run, he accepted Falwell's invitation to deliver Liberty's graduation speech.

Claire Ayendi supported former Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney in the Republican primaries but is now fully behind McCain. For the Nigerian who grew up in lefty Silver Spring, her spiritual journey began when she was 12 and went on a church mission trip. After graduating from James Hubert Blake High School in 2005 she decided on Liberty, and as a freshman in this politically conservative environment her ideals took shape. In addition to opposing abortion and same-sex marriage, she is against social welfare programs and overtaxation by the government.

In any other campaign, Ayendi's views would be in synch with those of most Liberty students, but in a year when the nation has its first black presidential nominee -- a candidate with an African father -- Ayendi is taking enormous heat. Black students make up 9 percent of Liberty's population, and many are putting aside their convictions on abortion to vote for Obama. And there is Ayendi sitting behind the "Vote for McCain" table. She has been accused of racial betrayal.

In the fall, she attended an Obama rally to see what the Democrat was all about. "It's amazing and historical," she says of his candidacy. "I would be so excited if he were a conservative. But we're looking at the appointment of two, maybe three Supreme Court justices."

Rumors fly around campus that Ayendi is a plant for the Obama campaign. The pressure comes from all sides, and her face is showing the strain. Her friend Allen gives her daily pep talks and says the campaign is God's way of making her dig deep. "No one works harder for McCain than Claire," Allen says.

The two friends balance each other out: Ayendi is quiet, judicious and guarded, while Allen is a smoking pistol who says things like "God is sovereign, man is fallen, I'm not gonna be perfect, get over it!" As part of a new generation of young evangelicals, Allen rejects the impersonal mega-churches of her youth in favor of mission work and a connection with those she is helping. They both gulp chai tea, eat vegan and listen to Vampire Weekend like other college students, and their career agendas are just as sharply focused as those of their Democratic counterparts. Both are hesitant to criticize Bush but share disappointment that the size of government has swelled under his watch. Neither support Washington's $700 billion bailout of Wall Street and believe that churches, synagogues and mosques -- and not the federal government -- should provide help to the needy.

Ayendi in particular believes that welfare programs promoted by Democrats hold back African Americans. "You go out there in this country and you work hard and you can make it," says Ayendi, the daughter of a diplomat and a nurse. "You can have your white picket fence." At the same time, she often finds herself explaining the complications of race to her white Republican friends.

After convocation, Ayendi and Allen walk to their 11 a.m. government class and unpack their books. "Did anyone watch 'The Office' last night?" a student asks. "It was SO good."