A month ago, I posted a short review of Benjamin Park’s new book, American Zion. Ben nicely agreed to answer some questions about the book posed by W&T contributors. Below are his bio and his answers to our questions. Thank you, Ben!

Benjamin Park is an associate professor of history at Sam Houston State University. He is the co-editor of Mormon Studies Review and editor of Blackwell’s Companion to American Religious History as well as DNA Mormon: Perspectives on the Legacy of Historian D. Michael Quinn. A previous book, Kingdom of Nauvoo: The Rise and Fall of a Religious Empire on the American Frontier, won the Mormon History Association’s Best Book Award. His most recent book is American Zion: A New History of Mormonism, which appeared in January 2024.

First, I really enjoyed the book. You gave a lot of coverage to J. Reuben Clark, who was an apostle and counselor in the First Presidency in the first half of the 20th century. It would appear he had a lot more influence on the course of LDS practice and doctrine than most current LDS recognize. Would you agree that he shifted the doctrine and teaching of the Church in a conservative, even fundamentalist, direction? And that his strong shift to the right is still largely in place in the LDS Church in 2024, almost a century later?

    One of my book’s arguments is that, to a large extent, J. Reuben Clark created the modern Mormonism that we now take for granted today. Despite spending most of his adult life outside LDS leadership, his ascension to the First Presidency in 1933 proved to be one of the most consequential moments in the faith’s history. It was also at a very significant time: after the church publicly renounced polygamy and inaugurated its slow and uneven march toward American assimilation, there were a variety of potential trajectories in which it could go. Clark ended up cementing one path while closing off others. On the one hand, he was terrified at the creep of modernism and progressivism in the faith, including in politics, gender, and education. On the other hand, he was perturbed by the persistence of post-manifesto polygamists who soon claimed the title of “fundamentalists” and who skewered the church for forfeiting a keystone doctrine. In response to these impulses, Clark charted a course of Mormon “fundamentals” that in many ways has structured the faith ever since.

    Amy Brown Lyman was another person you gave a lot of coverage to. She was in the Relief Society Presidency for decades and was President from 1940 to 1945. She tried to broaden the scope of social services provided by LDS sisters as well as provide cultural education and exploration for LDS women. That approach was largely abandoned after World War II as LDS leaders imposed centralization and correlation under priesthood supervision on previously somewhat independent auxiliaries, including the Relief Society. It appears that, despite her best efforts, the Relief Socity and the scope of activities LDS women can engage in were permanently curtailed.

      Lyman represented one of the trajectories that Clark closed off. She embodied both the progressive politics that were prevalent among LDS laity in the early twentieth century—she was a fervent supporter of FDR’s New Deal, for instance—as well as a broader conception of women’s roles in the public sphere. What she accomplished with the Relief Society across several decades of leadership was astounding. It also appeared as a threat to what Clark believed was the fundamental role of religion, women, and politics. Shortly after Lyman became the Relief Society president, after decades of board service, Clark told her that the organization was to be a “handmaid” to the priesthood. The public scandal that ensued when her husband was caught having an affair cemented Lyman’s fall from power. The Society’s declining autonomy only escalated from that point.

      In the book, you gave a lot of coverage to women’s issues and LGBT issues, recounting various attempts over the years by individuals and groups to influence LDS leadership. A W&T permablogger suggested that so much coverage might lead a reader unfamiliar with the LDS Church to think that the Church and its leadership are, in fact, quite engaged with these issues and concerned about making needed changes. In fact, many LDS and possibly the leadership as well see these as unwelcome, minor issues that are best avoided whenever possible. Talk about how you decided to address these issues in the book and if and why they are important for the Church going forward.

        I set out to not only include but to center voices from those who have previously been marginalized in surveys of LDS history. Part of the goal of the book is to show that many of the questions that encompass the church today, which we might think are of recent vintage, have been around since the very beginning. Issues concerning women and gender, for example, existed from the church’s very first year, when Joseph Smith and other leaders were forced to conclude what role women would play, the proper role of genders, as well as sexual interactions. And while LGBTQ questions have only been foregrounded since the 1950s, topics concerning orientation have always been present, and there has never been a time in which there were not queer saints. Further, one can only understand a community by defining its boundaries, which includes exploring who has and has not been embraced over two centuries, and what roles they were allowed. It is imperative, therefore, to show that there was never a moment in which these questions were not pressing, even if we have taken some of the resulting policies for granted.

        Another W&T permablogger offered this question: Can Park discuss why conspiracy theories are flourishing today, including within the Church? I’m inclined to think the long shadow of Ezra Taft Benson’s speeches and politics are part of the Mormon discussion, but Evangelicals seem to be attracted to fringe theories as strongly as Mormons. A lot of us have the suspicion that something about LDS teaching and Mormon culture predisposes Mormons to readily accept wacky theories with little or no supporting evidence. Do Mormons have a special problem with this, or does it just seem that way to some of us who are very engaged with LDS doctrine and culture?

          There has always been a strain of conspiratorial thinking within the LDS tradition, because the impulse to question traditional narratives, critique accepted truth, and seek occult-like knowledge has been baked into the American experience. The Book of Mormon warned of Gadianton Robbers and other secret combinations, after all. But the conspiratorial mindset truly came into the mainstream with Benson and other anti-communist thinkers in the mid-twentieth century. Part of this was a natural extension of the anti-communist anxieties that worried about a global cabal seeking to overturn freedom; another part of it was due to the rising fundamentalist culture that undercut secular modes of learning and distrusted mainstream thinking, instead cultivating ideological silos filled with alternative facts and competing authorities. This has only grown worse in recent years. I don’t think Mormons have a unique problem with this, but that we live in an Age of QAnon in which today’s partisanship and culture wars have bred diametrically opposed spheres and fake news. Mormon conspiracists—from Tim Ballard’s “hypothesis” work to those who bought into the 2020 election lies—may introduce a unique LDS spin, but they are drawing from and perpetuating a wider impulse.

          Here’s a question from a W&T permablogger that I’m just going to paste verbatim: “What effect (if any) has there been on how the LDS Church and its leadership “do history” due to the increasingly cordial relationship between the RLDS/CofC and LDS, initiated several decades ago by historians active in MHA, JWHA, and elsewhere? Would the recent sale of historic assets (Kirtland, Nauvoo, etc.) by CofC to LDS have been possible otherwise?”

            Just seventy-five years ago, the LDS and (what was then called) the RLDS traditions were robust rivals. They challenged each other’s foundational truth claims and critiqued each other’s foundational stories. But the diverging trajectories they took after the 1950s—a divergence that was rooted in humanitarian missions, doctrinal evolutions, and cultural attachments—drove them apart theologically while also bringing them close together socially. Once they were no longer direct threats to each other, once their histories were no longer an attack on each other, they could form a closer friendship. This surprising alliance was enabled by historians in MHA and JWHA who served as intermediaries: Leonard Arrington’s diaries tell the story of meeting with RLDS officials and acting as a bridge with LDS authorities. While the recent and massive sale was the result of a variety of factors—economic realities and shifting priorities most prominent among them—the friendly relationship, enabled by the lack of rivalry, was what enabled it to happen in the first place.

            Here’s a thinky question from another W&T permablogger: “What event in Mormon history is getting too much attention, having too much significance ascribed to it? What event is being neglected and deserves more attention?”

              As a historian, it’s hard for me to say that any event receives too much attention! I will say that we sometimes overstate, or maybe misunderstand, the meaning of eras. For instance, many think the “Mormon Moment” that surrounded Mitt Romney was the first time the faith was the subject of national obsession, rather than seeing it for what it was: an embodiment of a new era, the Age of Obama, in which Americans were dedicated to finding individual expressions of personal belief, evidence that the nation could truly embrace diversity. That is what made the “I’m a Mormon” campaign so successful. So it wasn’t significant that Mormons received so much attention, but how that attention was framed.

              As for events that need more attention, I can think of a few. I’ve already discussed J. Reuben Clark, but I believe the 1930s was the most consequential decade for the modern church, and it receives far too little coverage. I’ll highlight one other: I don’t think Latter-day Saints have fully grasped the fact that, for a half-decade in the 1880s, a majority of church leaders and elite members were fugitives from justice. The “Underground,” in which officials chose to go into hiding rather than be prosecuted for polygamy, is one of the great under-acknowledged sagas of not only Mormonism, but American religious history. I tried to capture some of that drama in my book.

              Finally, here’s a bonus question. Once upon a time, just about every member of the Church read Joseph Fielding Smith’s Essentials in Church History, which went through more than 20 editions. Recently, the Church finally published Saints, a new official history for the Church (3 of 4 volumes have now been published). My sense is that it is not getting much attention from the average member of the Church. Has interest in LDS history declined for the average Church member? What sort of feedback did you get when touring the country in support of American Zion?

                I’m not sure how to gauge the reach of the Saints series. On the one hand, they are readily available in the LDS app that millions of members use, and they are embedded in seminary and institute courses taught throughout the world; on the other hand, as you note, they are not the feature of general curriculum or general conference addresses, so I honestly don’t know how much an average church member would engage them. (I hope it’s a lot—I’m a fan of the series and think the historians have done a good job.) I do fear that the general thrust in church education is moving away from understanding context and toward emphasizing principles. We see this with scripture teachings that are based around topics, for instance. And I fear what is being taught in Sunday school, general conferences, and church education is overlooking the developmental nature of history and ideas.

                I’ve been pleased and humbled by the feedback I’ve received on the book tour. It seems lots of people have been pining for a general history that emphasizes contingency and diversity. People are also anxious to hear that our present era of division has a long background and explanation. We live in a world of culture wars, and my book aims to explain how that came to be.