Four Ways Christian Nationalism Fails

July 13, 2024

HERE'S MY TAKE

This week’s Insights contains some reflections on Christian Nationalism in response to numerous readers requesting that I address this subject. I wrote this last week in advance of a week’s vacation, so the usual links to current news items and the trademark wordplay are features that will return next week.

The problem with “Christian Nationalism” is that it misunderstands both what it means to be a nation and what it means to be Christian. It is also like putting an apple and an orange together to try to make an “apple-orange” that doesn’t work in theory or in practice.

Let me explain.

On its own, nationalism is “a great or too great love of your own country,” according to the Cambridge Dictionary. But what’s a country? Clearly a nation, a modern state, an empire, or an ethnic people group aren’t exactly the same things. The present debate is one that often includes citing centuries-old documents but often making mistaken assumptions that the words mean the same today as they did when they were written. When building your case, if you are going to apply writings about 16th-century Germany to the modern German state, one has to account for the changed nature of the state, not to mention some significant historical events that have taken place.

Likewise, the same dictionary tells us the adjective “Christian” means “of or belonging to the religion based on the teachings of Jesus Christ.”

Without putting too fine a point on it, it is incongruous to have a (possibly) “too great love of your own country” that is “based on the teachings of Jesus Christ.” I get that Christian Nationalists want to nuance their own definitions from dictionary meanings of words. Trying to make sense of some of the arguments is like watching a veering car swerving around contextual potholes and unforgiving ditches, even as you try to understand their destination. I’ll grant that many pursue their Christian Nationalism journey with their GPS set to destinations of pious intentions, but candidly, I haven’t observed many arrive at a credible, contemporary political destination that I can embrace as being faithfully Christian.

There are too many varied uses of “Christian Nationalism” in the media to properly account for, so what follows is based on what I understand to be two representative, book-length presentations of this way of thinking.

In the Roman Catholic world, the label “integralism” seems more prominent than Christian Nationalism. Kevin Vallier’s All the Kingdoms of the World pithily summarises the perspective: “Catholic integralists say that governments must secure the earthly and heavenly common good.” He spends over 300 pages on a nuanced and respectful documentation of the emergence of a particular variety of “religious anti-liberalism” before concluding with his critique of the movement.

From the Protestant perspective, there is Stephen Wolfe’s The Case for Christian Nationalism. In his words, “Christian nationalism is a totality of national action, consisting of civil laws and social customs, conducted by a Christian nation as a Christian nation, in order to procure for itself both earthly and heavenly good in Christ.” Wolfe argues, “It is to our shame that we sheepishly tolerate assaults against our Christian heritage, merely sighing or tweeting performative outrage... We have the power and right to act.” It should be noted, however, that Wolfe seems to carefully sidestep direct calls for revolution in the US. In terms of action, the epilogue to his book contains 38 practical reflections, many of which are better understood in the context of a redefined conservative political program than an explicitly Christian one. It does seem fair to observe that there are many Christian Nationalists who see conservative or libertarian populism (or whatever the opposite of liberal internationalism might be) as helpful to their cause. Similarly, certain politicians (out of principle or pragmatism) seem happy to pick up support wherever it’s available.

In the balance of this piece, I will highlight the context for Christian Nationalism’s present energy, lay out four core concerns, and conclude with my contention that it’s imprudent to identify uncritically with Christian Nationalism.

Christian Nationalism’s Power Sources

The Failures of Liberalism: The Western world is based on democracies built around notions of ordered liberty, responsible self-government, and political accountability. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, the West (led by the United States) tried exporting liberal democracy to make it the global norm through efforts like the War on Terror, the Arab Spring, and international trade. Those efforts failed. Instead, domestically it seems an ever-growing government is crowding out other civil society institutions. Meanwhile, insecurity and decline have become the norm amid international conflict and domestic economic disruption. A widening gap between rich and poor creates the seeds for unrest while leaders seem increasingly out of touch with “ordinary” citizens. In the past decade, we’ve seen populist political movements in response. The sense of liberal democracy’s failure creates a vacuum into which alternatives, like Christian Nationalism, flow.

Militant Secularism: Christian Nationalism isn’t the only alternative on offer these days. In fact, this nationalism is also a reaction to a growing militant, closed secularism. Secularism has shifted from open neutrality, in which religious folk still had a place, to a closed system that leaves no room for appeals to transcendent standards and morals. This secularism is married to identity politics, which elevates personal features, like gender, sexuality, or race. In this system, equal citizens don’t live together while mediating differences democratically. Society is a mixed company of oppressors and oppressed in which the power of public institutions is supposed to somehow right historical wrongs. Christian Nationalists would likely see their efforts as a much-needed reaction to the secularists’ labelling of religious believers as “oppressors.” Dropping diplomatic and “winsome” approaches, many want to fight identity politics with their own version of Christian identity politics.

Social Decline: It’s easy to pine for the “good ol’ days” when faith was much more central in public life. Many remember a time when societies were more homogeneous. Most try not to slip into a direct critique of mass immigration, fearing the racist label. Still, the mix of socio-economic challenges (which are true of every society), the challenge of social mobility, and the increasing problems of violence and security, raise moral questions. After a generation where only arguments appealing to universal reason were considered valid (while religious claims were invalid) many have concluded that the failure to talk about religion and religious claims is the problem. (See, for example, political and legal efforts like that in Louisiana to require the posting of the Ten Commandments in all public schools.)

Religious Calling: Talking about religion in public isn’t just something that comes in response to secularism and difficult circumstances; it’s a positive calling for Christians. “Confessing Christ in all that we do” or “living all of life coram Deo, before the face of God and to His glory”—these are themes that are more prominent in contemporary Christianity than they were 50 years ago. In a majority Christian context, it wasn’t necessary to explicitly express a religious frame of life; it was assumed. Now having lost cultural power, some—like Christian Nationalists—suggest that anything short of bluntly making explicit Christian claims (or granting Christianity special or preferred legal status) is a wimpy compromise and that living in a country whose leadership and citizenship does not consciously claim the label Christian is problematic. 

Why Christian Nationalism Fails

In the main, I understand what energises Christian Nationalism and would even agree that our times call for new approaches to the public square. Still, I see at least four reasons why I cannot support what many advocates of Christian Nationalism are promoting. 

Defence of Liberal Democracy: Regular Insights readers know that I worry that the institutions of liberal democracy are failing. That’s especially important because liberal democracy is the product of both Christian and Enlightenment thought. Liberal democracy is a good thing, though to be clear, I don’t think the Bible suggests only one governmental system is applicable for all times and contexts.

Enter Christian Nationalism, which can seem pious in theory, but in practice is very complicated. Reading the first several hundred pages of Wolfe’s book, reviewer Kevin DeYoung boiled down the message to be “that ethnicities shouldn’t mix, that heretics can be killed, that violent revolution is already justified, and that what our nation needs is a charismatic Caesar-like leader to raise our consciousness and galvanize the will of the people.” Wolfe rejects that characterisation but it seems to me that the implications of his argument are a power imposition on the part of the minority. Whatever it is, it amounts to abandoning the notions of “mandate” implicit in liberal democracy in favour of an imposition of minority perspectives, something that is not too different from what the “progressive woke” folk are doing except from a different perspective.

A robust doctrine of divine providence means that we obey in the setting in which we find ourselves. Faithfulness means working within that context (which can, but need not, mean rebellion and overthrow of a corrupt tyranny.) Obadiah served faithfully in the court of wicked King Ahab in Israel. Joseph and Daniel carried out their public service in Egypt and Babylon. Obedience does not require the overthrow of a regime that isn’t fully ideal. While by no means sanguine about our present predicaments, historical and contemporary models of government would suggest that our liberal democracy, while broken, is not so tyrannical that it needs to be overthrown. (And if it were, historic Christian social thought says that it requires support from “lesser magistrates” and not just a popular uprising which amounts to anarchy and mob rule.)

Bad Theology: Given the diverse readership of this newsletter, I’ll deal with Christian Nationalism’s theological shortcomings through three broad arguments.

A. Confusing Biblical Principles with a Political Program

I’m theologically orthodox. I subscribe to historic Christian creeds and confessions and believe that theology matters. Truth is consequential and we should aspire to live lives consistent with it. We cannot compromise on eternal Christian truths.

Christian Nationalism is bold in proclaiming truths and their implications for public life, denouncing those who disagree as “wimpy” compromisers. They note (somewhat accurately) that many who advocate “winsomeness” have historically slipped from orthodoxy towards cultural accommodation. Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.

That said, the Christian Nationalists’ penchant for taking a “thus says the Lord” approach to public policy is deeply problematic. Of course, biblical principles are beneficial generally, regardless of what people believe. To use just one of many examples, it is broadly understood that Scripture gives fathers the role of protecting and providing for their families—sacrificially and with their lives even. However, multiple Christian Nationalists leap from such principles to advocating that not owning a gun for self-defence means a father is abandoning his Christian responsibility to protect his family. Somehow, failure to agree with these conclusions is to be labelled a compromiser on the principle.

B. Misplaced Loyalty to Kith and Kin

Critics of Christian Nationalism often describe it as racist and white supremacist. In fairness, I have read extensively and haven’t come across a "smoking gun” to justify that accusation. However, I’ve read enough arguments that cause significant discomfort. Take Stephen Wolfe’s book for example. Going back to the Garden of Eden, Wolfe contends that even if humanity had not fallen into sin, distinct nations and peoples would have developed—and we were created to have greater loyalty and identity with our own people over others. 

Wolfe takes pains to develop his argument (which I find unconvincing and speculative at best) that “each people group has a right to be for itself” and humans’ “instinct to conduct everyday life among similar people is natural” and therefore “good.” While he denies this is a cover for ethnic or racial prejudice, he later argues that “the most suitable condition for a group of people to successfully pursue the complete good is one of cultural similarity.” While there are legitimate questions to ask about immigration and cultural policy, how does Wolfe miss the primary biblical impulse that all people are created with equal dignity as God’s image bearers and that the gospel breaks down barriers between people groups? Christian Nationalism has a gravitational pull in the opposite direction. That question is especially important in a cultural context where racism and its unjust consequences remain far too prevalent. 

C. Cultural Christianity

I co-founded a think tank that relies on standard social-scientific methods, confident that the data will vindicate the application of Christian principles. We commissioned researchers to comb through medical science journals to see what empirical studies might suggest regarding the connection between marriage and health. Without knowing the data in advance, I was confident that when people followed the created norms for family life, scientists would discover (as they did) that marriage is good for your health. This sort of “cultural Christianity” doesn’t save the soul, but can help make gospel living attractive to the world and it is in itself God-glorifying.

However, that’s a very different approach than the politicisation of Christianity in our day, which clouds the core message of the gospel. While I’m thankful that young men under 30 are far more likely to be attending church these days than their baby-boomer parents, I also note that many young men from church communities are confusing cultural Christianity with the real thing. Adam Wakeling is an atheist and I disagree with much in his Quillette essay, “The New Political Christianity.” Despite this, he exposes some things worth noting, criticising popular writers like Jordan Peterson for advocating cultural Christianity and not being clear on the gospel.

As proof, Wakeling points to an interview in which Peterson admitted that even with video evidence of a man walking out of Jesus’ tomb, he’d have “no idea what that means, and neither did the people who saw it.” Yet Peterson still holds Christianity as the antidote to aggressive, left-wing politics, writes Wakeling.

Similarly, Christian Nationalists have been increasingly enthusiastic about populists who are “Christian-adjacent” in their arguments but on-side in the culture wars. Discernment about important distinctions falls by the wayside in the process.

How does this work out in practice? Consider the responses to the social media posts of US President Biden and Former President Trump this past Easter. Biden acknowledged Easter Sunday, which fell on March 31^st, as “Trans Day of Visibility.” This prompted outrage among conservatives in general and Christians in particular about blasphemy. (For the record, I agree with the concerns about Biden’s declaration although many critics misportrayed Biden’s decision, ignoring that every March 31^st since 2009 has been declared a “Trans Day of Visibility.”) Meanwhile, on the same weekend, Former President Trump tweeted a comparison of himself and his legal troubles to Jesus’ trial before Pilate. He called it ironic “that Christ walked through his greatest persecution the very week they are trying to steal your property from you…” Meanwhile, Trump was fundraising by selling “God Bless the USA Bibles.” Among my 5,000-plus social media feeds, curated to keep tabs on various camps, including Christian Nationalists, I only saw significant outrage regarding Biden’s comments. Trump’s claims drew mostly silence. If the cause of Christian Nationalism is biblical rather than political, then surely Trump’s grandiose claims and Bible sales qualified as blatant blasphemy too. But following a representative sample of Christian Nationalists would find plenty of outcry about Biden and very little about Trump.

Conclusion: Our times aren’t the first in which folks have tried to weld Christianity to nationalism. Consider John Owen, a Puritan preacher, theologian, and British republican in the mid-1600s. He became an army chaplain and joined Oliver Cromwell in his religious wars in Ireland and Scotland. But as historian Crawford Gibbon notes, that experience caused Owen to rethink his position.

"Owen’s… question centred on how best to represent the fact that 'God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him' (John 3:17). So, he wondered, in an address to Westminster MPs, 'How is it that Jesus Christ is in Ireland only as a lion staining all his garments with the blood of his enemies, and none to hold him out as a lamb sprinkled with his own blood to his friends?'

Owen’s answer to that question changed his politics. The invasion of Ireland had not really advanced 'the sovereignty and interest of England,' he realised. 'I could heartily rejoice, that, innocent blood being expiated, the Irish might enjoy Ireland so long as the moon endureth,' if 'Jesus Christ might possess the Irish.' Owen would become a key theorist of religious toleration—and his theological convictions were formed during the chaos and trauma of the Cromwellian invasion of Ireland."

It seems alarmist to compare our times to those of the Cromwellian era in England. However, one doesn’t have to dig deeply into the Christian Nationalist literature to find talk of revolution and militias. I don’t want to be alarmist but neither should we be naïve. Some are playing with fire, pursuing agendas which are fundamentally misguided both practically and principally.

Much of what calls itself Christian Nationalism sounds more like national idolatry than Christian confession. This nationalism tends to change its adherents’ Christianity, rather than letting Christianity moderate their nationalism. So, I will end with a caution that this debate—especially in our polarised times—has practical consequences that could be (quite literally) inflammatory. That’s not a prediction, just a caution.

Faithful Christian citizenship calls for wisdom and prudence. While I oppose Christian Nationalism, I share and understand many of the concerns that motivate this type of thinking. We must face very real cultural challenges bravely, all while embodying the hope, reconciliation, peace, and redemption that the gospel provides.