What Critics Often Get Wrong About Christian Nationalism

Last month I enjoyed a fun Memorial Day parade in my hometown of Newburgh, NY. I expected the procession to include a lot of flags, police cars, marching bands, and fire engines—and it did. More surprising to me however, were the large number of Latino evangelicals present in the parade, and particularly the prominent blending of Christianity and American patriotism. There was a Spanish-speaking church with multiple parade floats, led by a trio of  Hispanic men blowing shofars, followed by an Israeli flag, the Christian flag, and dozens of American flags. As the lead pastor rode by, dressed in a suit and waving to the crowd, I could read “One Nation Under God” and “In God we trust” written across the side of his van, which was decked out with more American flags. Spanish worship music blared from the speakers.

Photo from Hudson Valley Press

Seeing this blend of Christianity and patriotism made me reflect on the nature of Christian nationalism. Political science theorist Paul Miller writes: “Christian nationalism is the belief that the American nation is defined by Christianity, and that the government should take active steps to keep it that way.” Christian nationalism has been in the news a lot recently, as it becomes increasingly apparent that many Trump supporters—particularly those who attempted the coup on January 6, 2021—are fervent believers in this ideology. While Christian nationalism has often seemed to the domain of white evangelicals, who form the bedrock of Trump’s support and supported him in record numbers in 2016 and 2020, there are a growing number of Christians of other ethnicities who have also embraced Christian nationalism, including Christians of Spanish descent. Political journalists have noted the massive swing towards Trump that occurred in these communities (especially in Texas and Florida) in the 2020 elections as compared to 2016. While I didn’t see any Trump signs at the Memorial Day parade, I would guess that many of these Latino evangelicals might also fit into that category.

And that brings me to the main point of my blog today. Watching the Memorial Day parade, while fun, brought up some uncomfortable reminders of Christian nationalism, and the dangers that can arise when Christians attempt to coerce others into our faith through political power. I could go on and on about the problems with nationalism generally, and have blogged about it in the past. However, most recent critiques of Christian nationalism in America that I have come across—particularly by those who aren’t Christian— typically focus on three problematic aspects: 1. its connections to white supremacy, 2. the focus on America First, and 3. a centering of Protestant Christianity. All of these critiques are of course valid to a certain extent in the United States, but I want to highlight what I saw in the Newburgh Memorial Day parade as a caution: if your main critique of Christian Nationalism is that it is too centered on whiteness, America, and/or Protestantism, then your critique simply will not apply to many versions of Christian nationalism in our world today. 

As the Latino parade marchers illustrate, more and more, Christian Nationalism is NOT a domain of European whiteness- nor even of America. One can look more broadly at the rise of Christian nationalism in Brazil, or African nations like Uganda. There are attempts by more and more non-white peoples around the world to inscribe Christian values into their countries’ laws through legislation and political power. And lest one think that Christian nationalism is a fundamentally evangelical or Protestant phenomenon, one only has to look at the twisted version of Russian Orthodoxy that Putin has mobilized and militarized alongside Russian Archbishop Kirill in order to justify his imperialistic endeavors. Even in America, more and more Catholics are building alliances with their former Protestant rivals in order to fight what they see as rising “wokeness.” Contrary to what one might have heard, Christian nationalism is not a solely white, American, or Protestant phenomenon. 

Moreover, these narrow secular critiques of Christian nationalism remind me of the argument that philosopher Susan Sontag had with the poet Adrienne Rich regarding the nature of German Nazis’ ideology. Adrienne Rich had argued that the best way to understand Nazism was solely through the lens of misogyny–she wrote that Nazism was “patriarchy at its purest, most elemental form.” Sontag rebutted that while misogyny was certainly present, to focus on patriarchy over and above other aspects of Nazism (such as racism, anti-Semitism, violence, capitalism, imperialism, etc) is to deny the complexity of the problem. Similarly, to simply denounce Christian Nationalism solely for being too white, or too American, is dangerously myopic, and leaves one open to counter-arguments like this: “Well, we can’t be Christian nationalists because we aren’t white and we aren’t American!” They fail to comprehend the real appeal of Christian nationalism, which is the same appeal it has held for millennia, ever since the Roman Emperor Constantine co-opted the faith in 313 CE and began using it to justify his rule and reign. Christian nationalism is appealing because it is a form of idolatry, of using the name of God to bless one’s empire and defeat one’s enemies (domestic or foreign).

If Christian nationalism is only really wrong because America does it, then your critique can’t go back further than 1776; if it’s only wrong because it’s too Protestant, it can’t go back further than 1517; if it’s only wrong because it’s too white, then you can’t go back further than the 1400s (when the concept of “whiteness” originated). We need to go back further than that.

Thus, to lay my cards not he table, I believe the fundamental weakness of critiquing Christian Nationalism for being too racist, too American, or too Protestant is that it simply does not go deep enough; it fails to address the root of the problem. (And to be clear, the problem is not that Christians are acting voting and acting according to their moral beliefs about what is right or wrong—because that is hopefully true for EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON.) The core problem at the heart of Christian nationalism is this–should Christians be attempting to establish Christianity as the pre-eminent religion? Should Christians ever use political power to coerce people to follow Jesus? 

Admittedly, some Christians, particularly those who have a dim view of free will, have no problem with this. They might argue that other religions—notably Islam—spread through the sword, and if governmental power helps people to make other wise decisions (like wearing a seatbelt), then why not use coercion to force people to become Christian? For me and other Anabaptists, however, it is clear from the New Testament that Jesus’ Kingdom is not of this world, and as such he forbids his followers from using the sword to advance their interests. The earliest Christians refused to fight in wars, and would not use force to make others believe. We Anabaptists do not even baptize infants, insisting that they be able to make a free choice to be baptized when they are mature enough to decide for themselves. Thus Anabaptists such as myself would argue that Christianity is always wrong when it uses violence to coerce others into following Jesus, and our critique can go back all the way to the “Christianization” of the Roman Empire in 313 CE, would apply all the way through the Crusades, Inquisition, and European conquests, and will keep on applying going forward regardless what form Christian nationalism takes next. 

For example, I think there is a chance, however small, that within the next century China will hit a tipping point where the number of Christians becomes too large for the government to keep repressing. Imagine then a Chinese version of Roman Emperor Constantine, who decides that it is easier to co-opt Christianity to serve his regime rather than to keep fighting it. Imagine that then we see a new version of Christian nationalism that uses the cross to justify Chinese persecution of the Muslim Uighurs, Chinese expansionism in Asia, and even a war against the increasingly non-Christian West. If your critique of Christian nationalism is that it is too white, or too centered on American Christianity or Protestantism, then you would have little to say against a uniquely Chinese Christian nationalism. (Or Brazilian Christian nationalism, or Ugandan Christian nationalism… etc). 

However, if instead you have been critiquing Christian nationalism all along because Jesus’ followers are called to never use violence against their opponents, then you actually have a worthwhile—and consistent!—counter-philosophy to offer. That is why I think it is so crucial in this time for Anabaptist Christians to offer up their theology of pacifism (and our connected critiques of Christian nationalism) and spread it far and wide. Lord knows that Western Christians need to understand that Christian nationalism is flawed; but the center of the Church is no longer in the West. Now is the time for Christians around the entire globe to learn from Western Christianity’s mistakes and to reject the temptation to pick up the sword. Otherwise, we will see the heartbreaking cycle of violence continue in a new generation, staining the name of Jesus once more as rising powers in the Global East and South flex their muscles and attempt to build their own Christian Empires. 

The sword is a lot easier to carry than the cross. Every generation since Peter sliced off the servants’ ear in the garden of Gethsemane will be tempted to establish God’s Kingdom through violence. But that’s not the way of Jesus. And Christians of every tribe, nation, and tongue need to be reminded of that. 


[For a book that does a great job of critiquing Christian nationalism both in principle and as it has been practiced in America, I recommend Paul Miller’s The Religion of American Greatness: What’s Wrong with Christian Nationalism. Paul Miller is himself a practicing Christian so this book is an insider’s view at the philosophical and theological issues with Christian nationalism.]

[For another book that is a bit shorter and less academic, but was written 18 years ago so it’s a bit out of date, I’d recommend Greg Boyd’s Myth of a Christian Nation. This book was one of the biggest influences on how I shifted in my political and religious views away from Christian nationalism and to my current views.]