First, a retraction of my own: back in 2019, a group of Providence contributors were asked to articulate a Christian perspective on nation-states. I dashed off a piece, urging the avoidance of rote talking points and accepting the normative reality of nations seeking their own interests. I used the term “nation-states” interchangeably with country, and this was an error. Today, I recognize that nation-states are, at best, a necessary evil and that nationalism is profoundly fraught in practice, even if it may be appealing in theory. Former Providence editor Mark Melton had a much better taxonomy in his contribution, and Jared McKinney—channeling the great John Lukacs among others—warned of the vice of nationalism.
One of the greatest snags for the nationalist is what to do with people who, though within the geographic boundaries of the nation-state, are not of the “people” or ethnos or “imagined nation,” whether that be defined in terms of religion or race or something else. The advantage of federal unions and empires is that they have allowed various peoples or nations to exist with a level of harmony and peace; proper nation-states have a hard time coping with whatever “other” there may be in a country’s populace. But how have the self-identified nationalists and their allies been getting along since 2019?
Notably and ironically, there has been a shift among self-proclaimed nationalists against Israel and Jews. Why is it ironic? Well, one of the big defenders of nationalism’s virtues back in 2018 was Israeli-American political theorist Yoram Hazony. At the time, Hazony’s work went hand-in-hand with his defense of the Jewish state of Israel. After all, Hazony reasoned, doesn’t a country have the duty to preserve historic traditions and customs, language, social cohesion, and trust from the universalizing acids of individualism, globalism, and libertarian consumerism? And isn’t so much of the international order arrayed against Israel and its peculiarities as a Jewish state? In defending what he defined as nationalism, Hazony was defending the state of Israel.
One of the ways Hazony argued his case was by exploring the principles of what he calls “nationalism” in a Zionist context through the lens of Anglo-American traditional conservatism. Typical luminaries in this discussion include such modern and early modern icons as John Fortescue, Richard Hooker, Edward Coke, John Selden, David Hume, Adam Smith, Edmund Burke, the Federalists, and Abraham Lincoln. Voila! National conservatism as we know it today, with its many conferences and essays, was born.
It’s not surprising that Protestant thinkers also caught the same wave, especially as the twenty-first century ressourcement movement, as embodied in such organizations as the Davenant Institute, began to embrace the political theology of the magisterial Reformers. With their high view of the magistrate, suspicion of papal imperialism, and (for the Reformed especially) their renewed appreciation for covenantal theology, these seminal thinkers of the early era embraced a strong view of national sovereignty under God, sometimes breaking free of external control (cf. the Swedish Secession, Swiss Independence, and the Dutch Revolt).
All this lacked the ardent love of the “folk” (Volk) that would develop later in the Romantic era. From the early modern period into the 20th century, we often find unions, federations, and empires such as the British Empire, Austria-Hungary, and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth that united various peoples under one state or ruler. Once true nationalism—as an ideology—gained steam in the Romantic era, we find more and more unrest stemming from movements of self-determination. People-groups (imagined communities) repeatedly attempted to establish their own sovereignty and oust those deemed the “other.” This was exemplified perfectly in the revolutions of 1848. Conflicts stemming from nationalism roiled on into the world wars, escalating into various fascisms. Nationalist ideologies often mixed with ugly antisemitism since Jews seldom fit into these imagined communities, culminating most horrifically in the Holocaust, but having been prefigured by the pogroms of the Russian Empire, among other episodes.
Can anything called “nationalism” be sectioned off from this violent, ugly history? Hazony thought so, and so did several Christian thinkers. The orbit around Doug Wilson, Canon Press, and the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches (CREC) started out this way (and many remain so). Canon Press’s release of Stephen Wolfe’s The Case for Christian Nationalism kicked off a line of debate that remains with us to this very day.
As Wolfe’s book made its way into the church’s consciousness, more and more folks online started to label themselves as Christian nationalists. As this horrified the much-loathed progressives, it was bandied about all the more roguishly. In fact, it became a tribal identifier in the wild world of social media—part and parcel of embracing the cutting-edge and counter-cultural. It offended the “normies” and the politically correct. Online brainrot set in.
This biker gang, war-horde ethos of the internet quickly mutates and corrupts. All the careful definitions, distinctions, and safeguards that intellectuals attempted to provide were trampled by X accounts, mostly anonymous but also some publicly identifiable. Meanwhile, painful lessons in history are forgotten, especially as the Greatest Generation passes from the scene. Soon, the indiscriminate, manipulative, and conspiracy-minded added anti-Zionism and eventually antisemitism to the discourse.
After all, it’s an attention economy. Outrageous statements gain traction, whether or not the speaker really means it. It is obvious that many Christian nationalist influencers are really just grifters who will believe in whatever gets more engagement, eager to lead their audiences deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of an alternate reality. Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens fit this model of conspiratorial outrage, as do Joel Webbon, Brian Suave, Eric Conn, and their cohorts on the more specifically Protestant face of things.
Things got so bad that leaders in the Neo-Calvinist (often Reconstructionist or theonomist-influenced) world published and signed the Antioch Declaration. This rightly called out and condemned the racism and antisemitism that has, sadly, proliferated within the church. In reaction, the supposedly Reformed antisemites now attack their spiritual forefathers, condemning Doug Wilson and other Antioch Declaration signers.
Here is the irony: champions of nationalism in 2019 often decried antisemitism from the left, and yet are now surprised to find antisemitism erupting on the right. What’s interesting is that the ‘old guard’ Neo-Calvinists (often emanating from Moscow, Idaho) do strongly reject dispensational eschatology, even as they did not stray into hatred of Jews. Support for the state of Israel has also not been uncommon among older Neo-Calvinists, primarily out of the perception that Israel is a strong ally in a fraught part of the world. Will the pro-Antioch side still claim the label “nationalist”?
Needless to say, folks will remain embattled over the meaning of the phrases “nationalism” and “Christian nationalism” for years to come. Progressives obviously use these phrases as slurs to rhetorically browbeat and ostracize more conservative opponents. But even on the right, the term remains slippery, and whether or not unsavory elements can be kept out of the self-described “Christian nationalist” tent remains to be seen.
So, what is to be done? On the scholarly side, if we believe that traditional conservatism offers the surest path forward, we must learn the lessons of history. As such, it behooves Christians, and particularly Reformed Christians in this case, to carefully study the mistakes Christians have made in the past so as to avoid them in the future.
The 19th and 20th centuries have much to teach us about the rise of nationalism and where it can lead. The hard but needed truth is that there is an unavoidable disposition to grave evil intrinsic to nationalism. Even if academics can, in a theoretical context, exorcise some or all of these problems, the average parishioner often cannot, especially when sophists and demagogues continually proffer racial resentment and antisemitism as the solutions to what plagues the West. Can we renounce these disorders and evils (likely trashing the label of nationalism) while still championing faith, family, life, patriotism, sexual morality, virtue, and just immigration policy? I think so.
More broadly, we must remember such teachings as the Sermon on the Mount, the Good Samaritan, and St. Paul’s description of the fruit of the Spirit which mandate neighborly compassion, doing good, and exercising patience. If some preacher or other “influencer” militates against this biblical way of discipleship and instead stokes up unmitigated contempt, wrath, and doing harm against neighbor, that person isn’t providing the whole counsel of God. This is not to endorse weaponized empathy, nor is it to avoid voting for, passing, and enforcing unpopular but just laws and policies that actually secure our neighbor’s good.
Instead, we can teach and practice all this while still recognizing rabbinic Judaism as a false religion. Our neighbor’s highest good is union with the Lord. They must be reconciled to God in Christ Jesus. This means evangelism. And hateful antisemitism is just about the worst way to approach evangelism imaginable. In fact, it indicates a rejection of evangelical duty altogether.