Although it is almost conventional wisdom that the Christian Right was born in local political controversies, often over public education, scholars have usually focused on the movement's role in national electoral politics. Melissa Deckman restores some balance with an interesting study of Christian Right activity in school board politics. Although the book provides only a good start in that endeavor, it suggests many avenues for future research.

Deckman begins with an historical survey of Christian Right activity in educational politics, reviewing the battles over evolution, anticommunism, sex education, and “secular humanism” and introducing key actors in the movement's educational efforts, including textbook watchdogs Mel and Norma Gabler of Texas and Robert Simonds of Citizens for Excellence in Education, as well as broad agenda groups, such as the Christian Coalition, Eagle Forum, and Focus on the Family. As a part of their programs, several of these groups encouraged Christian activists to run for local school boards during the 1990s. The nature and success of these efforts constitute Deckman's main concern.

The data come in two forms. The first source is a mail survey of a stratified national sample of school board candidates (N = 671), while the second entails intensive case studies of two school boards with significant Christian Right representation, one in suburban Fairfax County, Virginia, the other in rural Garrett County, Maryland. Both the survey data and case studies provide useful (and sometimes differing) insights, but the case studies emerge as the most fascinating, revealing both the diversity of school board politics and the complexity of Christian Right responses.

The survey confirms some suspicions about Christian Right candidates, but it dispels even more. Using alternative definitions of “Christian Right” candidates (based on relationship to movement organizations and adherence to conservative policy positions), Deckman compares them to other office seekers. Not surprisingly, Christian Right activists often belong to orthodox congregations, are quite active in church, and hold more conservative policy views than their counterparts. Still, this is not a gulf between the “religious” and “secular”: Non-Right candidates also tend to be religiously affiliated and active, but more often in mainline Protestant or Catholic communities. And although some interesting demographic differences appear (e.g., Christian Right candidates more often run their own businesses), both groups are drawn from the more privileged sectors of the citizenry.

The similarities extend to other areas. Most candidates are drawn into school board politics by purposive incentives, desiring to influence policy, with few differences among groups—although Christian Right candidates are more likely to mention concerns about the moral or religious climate of the schools. Most candidates get primary encouragement from friends and family to run, but some are prompted by sitting school board members. Contrary to expectations, Christian Right candidates do not report any substantial urging by Christian Right interest groups, although a few acknowledge being pushed by fellow church members. On the whole, though, school board candidacies are “self-starting,” with encouragement and support mostly from friends and neighbors.

Deckman also questions the standard account of how conservative Christians come to dominate local school boards. On the basis of a few episodes in California and Florida, some journalists have reported that Christian Right candidates win election by via a “stealth strategy,” hiding their real views on educational issues, confining their campaigns to the venue of conservative churches, and avoiding any “public” discussion of their priorities during the campaign. Whatever its validity in the original locations, this description is confirmed neither by the survey nor the case studies. The survey shows that although Christian Right candidates do not stress their more controversial ideas (e.g., creationism or vouchers), they leave no doubts about their conservative views on education, views that often have considerable public support, especially in traditionalist areas. Nor do they campaign much in conservative churches or draw support mostly from religious activists. In the case studies as well, Christian Right candidacies were openly conservative and highly visible, and they often had considerable public backing.

What happens when they win? The most fascinating section deals with the question of how Christian Right members participate in school governance. Once again, stereotypes are shattered—or at least cracked. In Garrett County, a Christian Right majority sought to institute major changes in policy, but often yielded to resistance from professional educators, pressure from community groups, and sometimes to internal factionalism. Thus, the Christian Right majority pursued its objectives, but those objectives changed as a result of interaction with the community. In Fairfax County, a Christian Right minority was frustrated in advancing its goals, but cooperated with other Republicans to stymie the more liberal (and less popular) policies of a Democratic majority. In neither case did the Christian Right faction exceed the boundaries of democratic politics: A majority often gave in to community pressures, and a minority found legitimate ways of influencing school policy. As Deckman rightly concludes, “At the very least, the experiences of Christian Right school board members challenge many of the common preconceptions about conservative Christians who govern” (p. 165). Of course, this conclusion derives in large part from case studies, as did the earlier alarmist accounts. Nevertheless, the scenarios she describes are probably at least as common as the others, if only because they comport well with her systematic survey data on school board candidacies.

Aside from the substantive merits of School Board Battles, it is also a pleasure to read: The findings are discussed in lucid prose, with a minimum of jargon. The only discordant note comes from Deckman's sporadic effort to assimilate the findings onto models of “priestly” versus “prophetic” religious politics, otherwise dubious analytic categories that seem especially ill suited for a discussion of educational politics. Fortunately, these interludes are but a brief annoyance and do not detract from the many valuable contributions of this work.