Now that Myanmar's military junta appears to have quelled popular protest, and the daily news hook is the success (or not) of the UN's diplomatic mission, most domestic newspapers have given a journalistic yawn to Burma, running the story in the “A” section's hinterlands. (Important news? See coverage of Britney Spear's custody suit.)

That's too bad as key events continue to unfold, According to the Asia Times, the protest has revealed splits in the junta between hardliners and those who support a (somewhat) softer touch. Generals in the former camp may have been unprepared for the strong worldwide reaction against last week's crackdown. The capacity of new technology to collect and circulate information (see the opinion piece and photo gallery in the Washington Post by USC journalism graduate student Hanna Ingber Win describing the emails, photos and instant messages coming out of Burma during the recent protests) changes the political landscape in ways that some of the developing world's old-line leaders (or, for that matter, most American media corporations) barely understand.

Burma's old-line leaders may not have understood the impact of a wired world but, unlike many in the American media, they do get religion. Kudos where they are due, the New York Times did an admirable job of explaining the role of Burma's monks in the Sunday “Week in Review” section. The piece had a telling quote (unexplainedly buried) that summed up the pivotal role religion plays in Burmese politics. Political legitimacy, said Ingrid Jordt, professor of anthropology at the University of Wisconsin- Milwaukee, “comes from the potency and karma bestowed by the monks. They are actually the source of power.”

This nugget explains why the monk's initial involvement in the protests galvanized their fellow citizens and why the junta's brutal actions against them effectively curtailed protest.

And what about those monks?

The BBC reports that 4000 have been detained and will be sent to prisons in the north of the country.  Urban monasteries remain quiet, patrolled by armed guards. But the Asia Times also reports that many of the country's religious have been politicized by recent events. “After the military first assaulted monks near Mandalay, a new group emerged known as the All Burma Monks Alliance, which represents a younger, more radical segment of the Buddhist clergy. They have since urged ordinary people to 'struggle peacefully against the evil military dictatorship until it is banished from the land.'”

Back in August, when the protests began, the monks wanted the government to roll back the 500 percent increase in fuel prices (which, the Asia Times noted, had affected their alms collections). But now it's more than economic policy that the religious leadership seeks to change. We've missed this story before, initially underestimating the mullahs role in the 1979 Iranian revolution and the Roman Catholic church's centrality to Solidarity's success in Poland during the 1980s. (I won't even mention the Religious Right's political achievements here at home.) Maybe this time we'll keep our eye on the ball.

The Burmese junta's brutal smackdown of Buddhist monks and civilian protesters continues to headline American media outlets  But for a deeper, fuller picture of events and the central role of the country's religious men and women, you'll need to track down international sources.

For the particulars of government raids on the monasteries—windows shattered by rubber bullets, religious objects in ruin, and monks bloodied and beaten—check out the London Times. At the Guardian's site, you can watch a monk describe the attacks on his monastery in Rangoon and then read about the junta's steps to seal off other Buddhist enclaves. For breaking news and a comprehensive context for the crisis as well as sidebars on everything from the impact of U.S. sanctions  to the role of Buddhist monks in Burmese society the BBC is the place to visit. The Guardian also has “A brief history of monks on the march.” Each of these sites links to protests on behalf of the monks in Thailand, Malaysia, South Korea, Taiwan, Indonesia and Australia. There's a lot more going on with the story than our American papers of record would have you believe.

Today's take home lesson:

1. American news outlets underestimate religion's public dimension and skimp on coverage of international news

2. Since most religious communities are transnational, events of a (relatively) small group of Buddhist monks in Burma can stir protest worldwide.

American news outlets are lost: How to cover news and still reap double digit profits? As journalistic competitors/colleagues around the world demonstrate, cutting back on content is not the answer. In fact, it's the problem.

Now that President Bush has imposed sanctions on the Burmese junta,  the growing protests against the dictatorship—and the galvanizing role Buddhist monks have played in mobilizing public outrage—should get the coverage it deserves from the American media.

Until recently, domestic news outlets have provided desultory reportage on the first massive public protests in Myanmar since 1988.  The demonstrations began in August when the country's military leaders raised the price of fuel 300 percent—a devastating blow to legions of subsistence workers and the poor. But press here only picked up when Buddhist monks took to the streets. See, for example, today's New York Times article  and Washington Post editorial. If you really want background on what's happening and why, you'll need to look at the BBC's coverage as well as clips from Asia and Australia.

American news outlets found photo ops when the “Saffron Revolution” drew thousands of demonstrators into the streets of Yangon, Myanmar's capital city, and other urban areas. But besides mentioning that Buddhist monks wear bright robes and are held in high esteem, there's little explanation of why they are protesting or the relationship between Buddhism and democracy. For that, see Professor Jay Garfield 's essay. Garfield, who is now at Smith College , argues that  Buddhist moral and social theory are compatible with democracy, a position shared by the Dalai Lama along with Buddhist monks Thich Nhat Hanh  and Thich Quang Duc. Quang Duc was the Buddhist monk whose self-immolation, on a Saigon street in June 1963, focused world attention on the corrupt South Vietnamese regime. Quang Duc's protest grew out of a long tradition of Buddhist activism against oppression. But reporters rarely contextualized his action within the political and religious dynamics of the time.

During the past decade, American journalists have seen the link between religion and politics play out in the Religious Right's incursion into presidential campaigns and the rise of values voters. We've also witnessed Muslims worldwide engage in various permutations of religion and politics. But as recent events in Myanmar prove, there are other, equally vital ways to understand what it means to do God's work in the world. In an article written last year, Australian historian Martin Stuart Fox explores how Buddhism interacts with politics in several Southeast Asian countries. His comments on Burma are prescient.

Given the escalating stakes—on Monday, Aung San Suu Kyi  was permitted to pray with the monks,  the first time her detention has been lifted since 2003—the coming weeks will be dramatic. What effect will Bush's sanctions have? Will the junta crack down on protesters? How will the monks proceed if they are successful (what will success look like)? There are many questions with few answers. But one thing is certain, religion is playing a key role in Burmese politics—and the process looks very different than it does here.

All the media brouhaha around John McCain: Is he or isn't he a Baptist, and yet so little attention to the Republican candidate who is the real deal. Mike Huckabee, former Arkansas governor and second place winner of the Ames Iowa straw poll  is a Southern Baptist preacher who left the pulpit to exercise “stewardship through public service.”

Huckabee calls himself a “conservative who's not mad at anyone,” which helps explain why he does as well with Jon Stewart (who wanted to know if he was really a liberal) as with “crunchy con” columnist Rod Dreher.

Whether chatting with Stewart or Chris Matthews, Huckabee is thoughtful, down-to-earth and funny. But he's forthright on the need for Christianity (tempered in some interviews as “religion”) in public life as well as his opposition to evolution and abortion.

Despite his complexity (or maybe because of it) Huckabee has yet to win widespread media coverage. The Washington Post profiled him last month , but he's more visible online—a favorite among right-leaning bloggers. Their elders may soon follow. James Dobson dissed Fred Thompson in a private email leaving Huckabee the last (real) Baptist standing.

Just who are evangelicals and what are their political goals? In the upcoming year, we'll hear a lot of speculation as a host of journalists, political writers and academic authors take a crack at the answers. The latest entry, God's Harvard by Hanna Rosin, debuted this week to mixed reviews (see New York Times and Buzzflash). Rosin's book is a closely observed study of Patrick Henry College, a training ground for religious conservatives committed to redefining American politics.

Over at Slate, Rosin and David Kuo are discussing the key issues that the book raises. . Kuo, an evangelical former White House staffer with his own book on politics and religion  begins with two pointed questions: Are Patrick Henry students representative of American evangelicalism and do they really want to take over the world?

Rosin, a former Washington Post religion reporter, dances around the answers—and for good reason. The news media paints the nation's evangelicals as a scary and monolithic force, bent on Christianizing the country if not imposing an outright theocracy. This is a great set-up for colorful, conflict-driven articles that quote Pat Robertson at his wildest. But is it good reporting?

As Rosin knows, and admits to Kuo, Patrick Henry is more a social experiment than a trend. Most of the nation's evangelicals are not planning a hostile takeover, and even the most gung-ho Patrick Henry graduates are mellowed by their experiences in the real world.

But scary hordes grab bigger headlines than small stories of regular folks whose faith leads them to staff soup kitchens, organize for labor reform or run for local office. Those religious Americans are trying to change the country, too. But don't expect to read the book anytime soon.

Alan Greenspan's new book is having great play. The hook—and a worthy one in these days of housing freefall and careening markets—is the current president's fiscal irresponsibility.

Faulting Bush for not exercising tighter budget control, Greenspan joins the list of former White House insiders—Richard Clarke, David Kuo, Paul O'Neill and George Tenet, to name a few—who have disparaged the president as soon as they can spell memoirs (and count dollar signs).

I'm glad that the truth will out, but why did Greenspan and the others wait so long to express their concerns? What did they say to the president when he carried out policies that were misguided if not downright wrong? Men and women who serve in government, especially in its upper tiers, have a duty to speak truth to power. That's the moral responsibility that accompanies political service.

Religion and politics? While the candidates answer fatuous questions (LINK TO MAHER ASKING OBAMA), I wait for all those in public service to answer a tough one: Who is your master and did you serve him well?

Covering holidays is a ritual unto itself. Food editors need new recipes for ham and pie; entertainment writers seek television/film/theatrical extravaganzas, and general assignment reporters pray for a priest/minister/rabbi or guru with something interesting to say. Not your plum assignments.

But Krista Tippett, host of Speaking of Faith, makes it look easy.  For this Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year which began at sundown September 12 and ends sundown on the 14th, Tippett interviewed Rabbi Sharon Brous. Brous is the spiritual leader of Ikar, a Los Angeles congregation of mostly 20-year-olds. (Disclosure: I am a member of Ikar and I am not 20-something.) Tippett's interview moves gracefully between religion and politics, the personal and the political, the sublime and the mundane. Brous is a terrific talker, and Tippett keeps the conversation down to earth, anticipating the very questions I wanted to ask: what to do when confronted with Iraq, Darfur, climate change and global warming?  Brous suggests we start small, reckoning first our behavior with friends and family. “It's all connected” she says, and then reminds us of L.A.'s 86,000 homeless men and women.

Tippett is an expert conversationalist. She is well –prepared but also present for the encounter. And between the lines, you can hear stories yet to be done: 20-something religion, urban congregations and social justice, and the spirituality of progressive politics.

For a completely different experience, check out the heavy breathing in Kathryn Joyce and Jeff Sharlet's expose of Hillary Clinton's prayer circle. We've seen how most reporters handle religion and politics: you can watch their inane interviewing on YouTube. Joyce and Sharlet, however, have dug deep, writing an intriguing piece about Hillary Clinton's involvement with the Fellowship, an under the radar Washington prayer group.

Those who wonder “is she or isn't she” may be more confused after reading about Clinton's relationships with rightwing leaders. The authors write, “The Fellowship isn't out to turn liberals into conservatives; rather it convinces politicians they can transcend left and right with an ecumenical faith that rises above politics. Only the faith is always evangelical and the politics always moves rightward.”

For anyone writing about shifts in American politics, E.J. Dionne's “The Liberal Moment” is a helpful read. Dionne does not address religion, but its role in American politics is implicit (as a linchpin in the conservative worldview and a question mark in a new liberal agenda) throughout the piece.

Reporters and Democratic pols only recently found God, but after a long hot summer, the rest of us are back to guns and butter. According to the Pew Forum's “Religion in Campaign '08,” voters are more concerned with the Iraq war and domestic problems than with “social” issues, such as abortion and same sex marriage. That may explain why Hillary Clinton and Rudy Giuliani are the current frontrunners, even though  survey-takers rate them least religious among the leading contenders

And while many Americans are hesitant to vote for a Mormon, the Pew poll says they're even more reluctant to support an atheist or a Muslim. Mitt Romney received a standing ovation when he told a crowd that he was a man of faith. About that Mormon problem?  Some of it has been stoked by journalists' trash talk, but a lot is just politics as usual.

For several thoughtful perspectives, check out the Chronicle for Higher Education on Mitt, Mormons and politics. (Unfortunately you'll need a subscription to read it.)

In case you can't get it, here's a sampling of what the Chronicle found online and in print:.

From Richard John Neuhaus, editor First Things: “Would a Mormon as president of the United States give greater credibility and prestige to Mormonism? The answer is almost certainly yes. Would it therefore help advance the missionary goals of what many view as a false religion? The almost is almost certainly yes.”

From blogger Jarrett Kobeck: “There's an inherent hypocrisy to the debate circling around Romney—as if believing that Jesus appeared in the Americas is somehow more implausible than believing he appeared, resurrected from the dead, to that doubting fellow Thomas.”

From Terryl L. Givens, People of Paradox: A History of Mormon Culture (Oxford University Press): “Most ironic, perhaps, is the dilemma in which Mormons find themselves with regard to the community of Christian churches. After predicating their very existence on the corruption of all other Christian faiths (“I was answered that I must join none of them, for they were all wrong”), and asserting their claim to be its “only true” embodiment, Latter-Day Saints are chagrined when they are excluded from the very community of believers they have just excoriated.”

On the other side of the divide, here's what the Democrats s said about their faith during the Iowa debates: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7T-VMcl_10.

Most turned the question to a recap of their stump speeches. Only  John Edwards—whom Pew respondees named as the most religious of the lot—answered with the sincerity that (one wants to believe) comes from an unscripted response.

Everyone loves a good story. We read everything from James Lee Burke to JK Rowling to Jane Austen because we empathize with characters who love, lose, suffer and triumph. Of course, many of our most compelling stories come from the Bible, and over the centuries men and women have read and recited it not only for its litanies of ancestors, esoteric wisdom or lists of laws but also for its vivid accounts of wanton violence, illicit sex, shattered hopes and unlikely heroes. We didn't need a movie to render the midnight madness of the ancient Hebrews dancing before a golden calf. Nor did we need a television mini-series to depict the evils predicted in the Book of Revelation. But great stories are Hollywood's stock in trade and in recent years, television has become the dramatic engine for narrativizing the moral, spiritual and religious dilemmas of contemporary North American culture.

Why and when did television supplant the Bible? Supplant may be too strong a word but television is the most accessible dramatic medium of our time. (Yes, the web will catch up soon.) Ninety-nine percent of American homes have television sets, and most people watch them. Moreover, Americans use the stories they see on TV to talk across racial, regional, class, ethnic and religious divides. You and I may not agree on the war in Iraq, but we can calmly discuss the social dynamics of Lost or the ins and outs of the presidential campaign in the final season of The West Wing. Likewise, we may be of different religions (or none whatsoever), but we resonate with the ethical and spiritual beliefs and behaviors that are emplotted and embodied on television dramas. (Did House really need to humiliate that kid? Did Meredith's near-death experience catalyze spiritual growth?) Faith, spirituality and ethics come across in dramatic interstices—a cop in the confessional booth, doctors debating a “do not resuscitate” directive or an elected official invoking God in a political crisis. Yet these small instances of what scholars call “lived religion” play a significant role in how we frame the spiritual, religious and ethical dimensions of our own lives.

Television drama offers a free zone to engage complex and timely issues. It's time out of time—a regularly scheduled encounter with old friends whose problems seem as real as our own. In fact, many series in the post 9/11 world develop storylines and subplots driven by the most pressing issues of the day. What does evil look like (The Sopranos, Deadwood)? How do we live with death (Six Feet Under, Dead Zone)? How do our caretakers make moral decisions (House, The West Wing, The Shield)? What is a faithful life (Big Love, Lost, Battlestar Galactica)? Who will protect us (Heroes, The 4400, Saving Grace)? Weekly television dramas—with their unfolding stories, flawed heroes and heroines, and “ripped from the headlines” plot twists—offer a window onto contemporary social concerns, and in many cases, the questions they invoke are clearly religious in nature.

Was Tony Soprano evil? Should he have died, faced judgment, repented? How many conversations did you have about New Jersey's conniving capo after the final black-out? Tony Soprano may not have made the world a better place, but his trials and tribulations led many of us to reflect weekly on meaning, morals and personal responsibility in today's world,

This fall a new crop of television programs tackle questions of meaning, morality and mortality. We've listed the new ones along with the old faithful. Reporters may want to look into who our newest heroes are, what's at stake in the new programs, and why we're so interested in the supernatural.

For a roundup of fall tv previews on the supernatural, see Fall TV Preview.

Sam Freedman's recent Beliefs column on Pastor Dan raised the question of how, whether and when the web was or could be a rallying spot for religious progressives. Despite a lack of coverage from the mainstream media (MSM), a growing chorus of progressive Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and spiritual-but-not-religious folk are sharing strategies and ideas online.

In response to what they see as the misbegotten policies of the Bush administration and the religious Right, religious bloggers describe and enact an alternate relationship between religion and politics. As “Bob” of Iamachristiantoo.org writes. “For me my Christian faith demands my progressive politics.”  Bob and his colleagues at similarly motivated sites conduct a virtual roundtable on the day's issues. Some write austerely from an informed faith perspective, others blog passionately about religion gone wrong. They link to each other and like-minded communities, including rabbis at radicaltorah.org, Muslims at progressiveislam.org and evangelicals at sojo.net.

Unlike leaders of the Christian right whose media exposure made them celebrities, most of these bloggers are not household names. Although some like Jim Wallis and Rabbi Michael Lerner register on the MSM's radar, others prefer to operate below the surface. The “Faithful Progressive,” reveals only that he is a lawyer in the Midwest and  “Bob” writes he is a Lutheran layman. Still others, like Rachel Barenblat at VelveteenRabbi and Rev. Tim Simpson at PublicTheologian, cultivate a web persona alongside their “real” identity.

Bloggers like these ensure that much of today's liveliest debates and savviest commentary on religion and politics is online. Writing outside the MSM—and free of its gatekeepers—a wide range of contributors (pink, white and blue-collar, students, homemakers, clergy, people of color, Anglos, men and women) advocate, debate and organize around the crisis in Darfur, climate  change and the 2008 presidential election.  And despite—or maybe because of—the MSM blackout, it's a growing and vital community. That's why when Daily Kos held its annual conference this year, almost all the Democratic candidates stopped by.

The blogosphere offers a new way to organize religious people into political communities. For better or worse, it plays to the traditional strengths and weaknesses of progressives. The blogosphere is grassroots and democratic, but it's also rambling, disorganized and undisciplined. You won't find talking points among the progressive religious bloggers, nor are there clear leaders. It's not a political movement that runs lockstep like the religious Right and there's no inkling it could be. On other hand, the web seems an ideal medium for the wide-ranging discussions, coalition-building and open- ended organizing that characterizes the left. This is a community in process made up of many different parts—self-styled Heeb vegans and Episcopal deacons may not initially see what they have in common. But just as the virtual links bring small, once-isolated individuals and groups together so may subsequent political alliances lead to real world change.

Pastor Dan is far from alone. The genius of the web is that encourages many folks to join the conversation. The question is whether or not these virtual voices will develop a real world presence.