The Corner of Church and State

IN ALL LIKELIHOOD, you’re for the cross, and don’t know why it’s caused such a fuss. To varying degrees, most San Diegans know “the cross” means the one atop Mount Soledad, subject of a 17-year legal battle to have it removed from city-owned property.

It’s obvious San Diegans are for the cross, the towering centerpiece of a war memorial. In a recent election, 76 percent of voters said they were in favor of steps that would allow the cross to remain. The 29-foot, concrete Latin cross (badly in need of a paint job) has been sitting atop an 822-foot La Jolla hill since 1954. Natives call it an institution—and a secular one at that. It’s not a religious symbol to most; it’s an icon with a killer view. And don’t forget its reputation as a scenic lovers’ lane, where many a young couple has found paradise by the dashboard light.

The trouble began nearly two decades ago. A man named Philip Paulson looked up, and was irked, says his lawyer, by a religious symbol on public land. An atheist who is also a Vietnam War veteran, Paulson didn’t feel the cross represented his beliefs—or lack thereof—especially as part of a war memorial.

Paulson and his lawyer, James McElroy, are not popular people. Paulson has written and spewed some nasty venom regarding faith and religion. He might have looked the other way regarding the Mount Soledad Cross. He could have easily picked a different battle. And according to some, he ought to have just picked up and moved to the desert.

But he stayed and fought. And for 17 years, the state and federal courts have sided with him.

“OBVIOUSLY, 99 PERCENT of the people are not offended by the cross,” says Charles LiMandri, the director of the Thomas More Law Center’s west coast office, doing pro-bono work for the city. “[Paulson] says he’s offended by a cross. But he has shown so much overt hostility toward religion and shown he’s not a reasonable person who needs to be accommodated. This is a landmark we’re talking about. And it’s a handful of people versus 3 million.

“We believe taking the cross off now goes against the pluralistic approach decreed by this country’s founding fathers.”

Even though the case has been won in court by Paulson at every turn, LiMandri believes case law on the federal level is today more favorable for saving the cross, which he describes as a secular “generic symbol of self-sacrifice.”

“The pendulum is swinging to the right,” says LiMandri, referring to the much blurrier line separating church and state that’s drawn by President Bush, his administration and, arguably, the Supreme Court.

On board for the push—which has gone national—are the American Legion and the National Clergy Council, as well as local religious leaders. San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders and Congressman Duncan Hunter personally met with White House staff and asked for help in saving the cross. The San Diego City Council also voted 5-3 to appeal two judicial decisions (one state, one federal) that ruled against the constitutionality of the cross.

U.S. District Judge Gordon Thompson Jr. recently ruled that if the cross isn’t removed by August 1, the city will be fined $5,000 a day. It was Thompson, incidentally, who ruled 17 years ago that the cross represents a religious symbol, and its presence on public land is unconstitutional. A citizens group called San Diegans for the Mount Soledad National War Memorial plans to hold a national fundraising campaign to pay the city’s $5,000-a-day bill, should a stay of the ruling not be granted.

BILL KELLOGG HAS HEARD all this before. The president of La Jolla Beach & Tennis Club has spent his 17 years as concurrent president of the Mount Soledad Veterans Memorial Association fighting to keep the cross. He is now resigned to what he says is the inevitable: The cross has to go.

“We tried everything,” says Kellogg. “Buying the land. Giving it to the Veterans Administration. We’ve had very, very good lawyers look at this, trying to make something work. We really want it to work. But we don’t know how to make it work. The precedents are all out there telling us we just can’t win.

“We used similar phrases to what Charles LiMandri is using—‘multifaceted war memorial’—but we couldn’t win. This can’t be won in the courts. Maybe the mood is changing. But it’s too late in this litigation. The judges have all ruled this to be a religious monument in a public park. This latest effort is after the fact. Maybe there’d be a different fate if we could start over. . .”

So what the trustees of the war memorial want to do is comply with the courts and get back to their primary goal: honoring veterans.

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” says trustee Jack Porvath. “Religion muddies up the water. When you make this about religion, it gets confusing. We fought for 17 years. It’s time to move the cross a quarter of a mile down the hill to Mount Soledad Presbyterian Church and consider getting a new memorial.”

In addition to the cross, the war memorial more recently came to include concentric walls containing room for some 3,200 black granite plaques (more than 1,700 are in place). Three sizes of plaques (costing $600, $1,000 and $1,500) can be purchased to honor living or deceased veterans. The memorial began as a tribute to veterans of the Korean War; today, plaques honor veterans dating back to the American Civil War and up to the ongoing Iraq War.

Porvath says the association had been selling roughly a plaque a day until the controversy re-erupted. He says April saw just four sales. Plaque sales are the sole income source for the volunteer association.

The Mount Soledad Veterans Memorial Association is sometimes confused with the San Diego Citizens for the Mount Soledad National War Memorial. The former wants to preserve a war memorial. The latter wants to preserve a cross. Suffice it to say, the memorial association trustees and the citizens group don’t see eye to eye.

“Yes, we have differing viewpoints,” says citizens group campaign director T.J. Zane. “We believe the cross can remain as the monument, and that it will pass constitutional scrutiny. The association may feel differently.”

CHULA VISTAN JAMES WHELAN heads the local chapter of the Korean War Veterans Association. Whelan served in the Navy as an ordinance man on an aircraft carrier flight deck.

“This is all too political,” he says. “If a federal judge says, ‘That’s it,’ then San Diego is wasting its time. If the cross has to go, give it to a church, and put up another memorial that honors veterans.”

In the 11th hour, Kellogg has received what appears to be a good idea—a modification of the cross (no, not the ridiculous idea of cutting off the arms). A design proposed by La Jollan Nils Schultz entails adding two more perpendicular arms to the cross. If you imagine the two present arms point north and south, picture added arms pointing east and west.

Schultz’s modification plan also calls for adding the emblem of the four branches of the U.S. Armed Forces—Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines—to the end of each arm.

“We’re open to that idea,” says McElroy, Paulson’s attorney.

Not LiMandri, the city’s lawyer. “Defacing the cross is a form of sacrilege,” he says. “We don’t see a need for modification—it profanes and shows hostility to Christians.”

On its Web page, San Diego Citizens for the Mount Soledad National War Memorial chairman Phil Thalheimer writes: “We are very disappointed with Judge Thompson’s decision. This is absolutely not a religious issue; it’s a matter of honoring those who have gallantly sacrificed to preserve our democracy.”

So which is it? If the cross serves strictly as a secular war memorial, how can its modification be a sacrilegious act against Christianity?

Modifying the memorial is a fantastic compromise idea. King Solomon would be proud. If religious opposition won’t allow that to happen, those with the most intimate knowledge of the protracted legal battle say the cross will have to go. If so, Kellogg is planning a national competition for creating a monument—something akin to the famous USMC War Memorial depicting the flag-raising on Iwo Jima—that honors all war veterans. Modification, however, ensures that a cross remains in place. And it would finally grant local veterans something they’ve surely earned for their combat duty: some peace.

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