top of page

Reckoning with Extremism: A New Path for Utah’s Leaders and Citizens

Writer's picture: Drew ReeseDrew Reese

Updated: Sep 30, 2024

The Utah Supreme Court’s recent ruling to invalidate the Legislature’s Amendment D from the 2024 Utah Ballot and safeguard the citizens’ right to initiatives marks a watershed moment for reflection. It reminds us that democracy thrives only when we all have a voice, and highlights the dangers when political supermajorities try to silence it.


Amendment D, and its failure, is only the most recent example of Utah’s political extremism attempting to steamroll any opportunity for the will of the people to operate as co-equal powers, as the Utah Constitution provides. Do we continue this never-ending power struggle where the supermajority, which already has absolute power, continues to exercise dominance over everyone—especially those they deem as “the others”?


This kind of state-sponsored division and animosity is not sustainable. It is time for our leaders—religious, political, and community—to reflect on how we arrived at such polarity and take steps to rebuild our sense of community. We didn’t reach this level of dysfunction and conflict by accident. It’s been a slow slide, and to move beyond it, we need to understand how we got here.


The mingling of extremist ideologies with religious doctrine in Utah goes back to the middle of the last century and has been a key factor in fostering political and cultural division in this state. One of the most influential figures in sowing this division was Ezra Taft Benson, who served as both a high-ranking church leader and a right-wing political figure during a period of intense cultural and ideological conflict in America.


Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) was the 13th President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and served as U.S. Secretary of Agriculture under President Dwight D. Eisenhower. A staunch anti-communist and advocate of conservative politics, Benson's influence extended beyond religion into American political thought, where his affiliation with the John Birch Society and his strong views on limited government shaped much of Utah's political culture in the 20th century.

Before becoming President of the LDS Church, Benson was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, while also holding the position of U.S. Secretary of Agriculture under President Dwight D. Eisenhower. Today, such a conflict of interest—where top church leaders serve in political-appointed roles—is no longer allowed, and Benson is a major reason why.


His tenure in the federal government, coupled with his deep involvement in the church, made him a major voice in merging extreme right-wing political ideology with religious authority. Often, he was speaking both for the church and by insinuation, for God.


Benson was a vocal advocate for the John Birch Society, a far-right organization that promoted conspiracy theories and anti-communist rhetoric, further entrenching political extremism within the church's sphere of influence. The Birch Society was so extreme that they even fell out of favor with mainstream conservative politics. Once exiled, they found a welcoming home in Utah.


This convergence of political and religious authority was particularly damaging during the Cold War era, as Benson frequently equated liberal policies and movements for civil rights with the evils of communism. This not only created suspicion toward progressive ideas but also enshrined a distrust of the federal government within certain segments of the church.


Even in his religious role, Benson’s political ideologies bled into church teachings, with his sermons warning of “creeping socialism,” Marxism, and a loss of moral values. His political leanings profoundly influenced how many Utahns—and particularly members of the LDS Church—perceived liberal policies, conflating them with attacks on both American and religious values.


The long-lasting impact of this rhetoric is still felt today, nearly 60 years later. It has created an environment where one side of the political spectrum holds deeply rooted suspicions of progressive ideas, often cloaked in religious justifications. The damage done by this mingling of church and political extremism has never been fully reckoned with, and it continues to shape Utah’s political and social landscape.



With a supermajority in Utah's legislature—dominated by those whose views lean toward extremism—this legacy of fear-based governance presents a real danger. When one party holds unchecked power, particularly a party with a strong ideological base, it risks suppressing diversity of thought and alienating the voices of those who disagree. This environment stifles representative democracy and deepens divisions within the community.


The church bears some responsibility for these divisions and must take an active role in undoing the harm. This is not to suggest that the LDS Church become overtly political, but it does have an obligation to lead in healing the wounds created by decades of fear-driven rhetoric.


Simply declaring itself “politically neutral” and admonishing straight-ticket voting isn’t enough to walk back the damage done. At the very least, focusing on religious teachings, especially Matthew 25, would show that these so-called “woke” commandments from the mouth of Christ can help demonstrate that “liberal” ideas aren’t as extreme as the conservative religious right-wing ideology makes them out to be.


As we navigate the 21st century, it's crucial to recognize how these outdated prejudices have been carried into modern debates, often mislabeled as "Marxist" or "radical leftist."

When used as pejoratives, these terms act as a modern-day shibboleth, signaling and revealing that the speaker has retreated from rational conversation and entered the discourse of extremism.


These labels obscure the real values behind progressive movements: equity, justice, and the pursuit of a better future for all. The intentional use of such terms isn’t just a misunderstanding; it’s a deliberate effort to silence discourse and promote fear. This tactic creates barriers to meaningful dialogue and distorts the public’s perception of movements aimed at civil rights, environmental justice, and socioeconomic equity.


In a state where religion plays such a vital role, we cannot allow fear-driven rhetoric to dominate. The LDS Church, as a powerful cultural force, has the opportunity—and the responsibility—to stem the tide of the division it once sowed. It must lead by example, promoting unity and compassion over suspicion and hostility and promoting otherness in those outside of their community. This is not about stepping into political partisanship, but about embracing the principles of unity, acceptance, and community that lie at the heart of the faith.


Utah’s strength has always been in its diversity, and we must lean into the founding motto of our nation, E Pluribus Unum—out of many, one. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations is not just a slogan, but a lived reality we should strive toward. Our true strength comes not from division, but from understanding and celebrating our differences. It's in that diversity that we can achieve great things, and forge a path where those differences are celebrated, not condemned, and where extremism is no longer given space to grow. That would become the golden-age of Utah, and it's one we can achieve.


If we want move forward and get out of this quagmire, it's critical for our religious, political, and civic leaders to guide us toward a brighter future built on unity and mutual respect. This change won’t happen overnight, and for some it won’t be easy, but I’m reminded of a quote from the Marvel Universe that has been somewhat of an ethos for me: “You don’t have to know exactly where you’re going. You just have to take a step and trust in the direction.”


Let’s set that direction towards a hopeful one.


Utah has always been a place of refuge and community, and now is the time to reclaim that identity. We aren’t going to solve all our differences overnight, but we can “take a step and trust in the direction.” Let’s start by recognizing that everyone has a right to a seat at the table, where every voice is heard and every person is valued.


Our differences don’t have to be scary. The more we step back from extremes and return to the realms of logic and reason, the more we’ll see that the things that separate us are far fewer than the things that unite us.


"We need to disagree better" a common phrase from Utah's Governor who has become a significant contributor to the culture wars of the 2024 election.

As the Governor likes to say, “We need to disagree better.” The first step to disagreeing better is recognizing that the other side isn’t the enemy—they are your community.



 

Drew Reese is an emeritus chairman of the Utah Veterans Caucus, a retired Air Force and Army National Guard veteran with a background in communications and strategic messaging. He is an advocate for Veterans issues, social justice, political accountability wants the Star Trek Future we were all promised.

bottom of page