ANALYSIS
For years, the political left and its media allies responded to nearly every conservative argument with the same accusation: “white supremacy.” Support border security? White supremacy. Oppose racial preferences? White supremacy. Defend traditional marriage? White supremacy. Object to radical gender ideology? Somehow, that was white supremacy too.
The accusation was applied so indiscriminately—and so often without evidence—that it lost its meaning. When every conservative is called a white supremacist, the label tells the public nothing the conservative and plenty about the accuser. A replacement was needed. Enter “Christian nationalism.”
Another Meaningless Label
The central problem with the label “Christian nationalism” is that it has no stable definition. To some, it means establishing a national church or Christian theocracy. To others, it means allowing Christian morality to influence public policy. Still others apply it to Christians who believe America has a distinctive religious heritage, pray at political rallies, oppose abortion, or simply allow their faith to inform their votes.
Those are radically different positions. A person can acknowledge Christianity’s historic influence on America without advocating a theocracy. A Christian can vote according to religious convictions without wanting to deprive non-Christians of their rights. A voter can believe biblical morality benefits society while also supporting the First Amendment’s prohibition against an established national religion.
Polling confirms the confusion. When Pew Research Center asked Americans to explain “Christian nationalism,” respondents offered definitions ranging from theocracy and religious domination to patriotism, morality, faith and family. Some explicitly equated it with racism and white supremacy, while others understood it as the positive influence of Christian values on society. Pew’s findings show that Americans using the phrase are often not describing the same thing or anything at all.
That ambiguity is not a weakness for those using the term as a political weapon. It is its greatest advantage. The label suggests racism without requiring proof of racism. It suggests supporting theocracy without identifying a proposed theocratic law. It suggests authoritarianism without demonstrating that the accused person wants to deprive anyone of constitutional rights.
If someone believes whites are racially superior, call him a white supremacist. If someone advocates a coercive national church, call him a theocrat. If someone supports political violence, identify and condemn that violence. But when the only evidence is that someone is a Christian, a patriot, and a conservative, “Christian nationalist” is attempted guilt by association.
Christianity Was Already in the Public Square
The idea that Christian political involvement is a recent or foreign intrusion into American life is historically absurd. Congregationalists, Presbyterians, Baptists, Anglicans, and ministers from other traditions played an integral role in preparing Americans for independence. They preached about liberty, natural rights, resistance to tyranny, moral duty, and the limits of government power.
These Patriot ministers became associated with what is now called the “Black Robe Regiment.” The phrase described clergymen—many who wore black ministerial robes—whose sermons, writings and leadership helped build support for independence. These ministers encouraged the Patriot cause and helped muster crucial support among their congregations.
Some served as chaplains. Some accompanied militia companies. A few took up arms. Their churches helped Americans connect religious duty with political liberty.
John Witherspoon, a Presbyterian minister, signed the Declaration of Independence. Jacob Duché prayed before the Continental Congress. Lutheran minister Peter Muhlenberg became an officer in the Continental Army.
Then there was Lemuel Haynes. Born to a white mother and a Black father, Haynes spent much of his youth as an indentured servant. After gaining his freedom, he served in the militia during the Revolution and later became the first Black minister ordained by a major American denomination.
In his 1776 essay “Liberty Further Extended,” Haynes combined Christianity with the Declaration’s principles to attack slavery. He argued that liberty was a divine right that could not morally be restricted by race. His life is documented in a United Church of Christ historical account.
Haynes makes nonsense of the lazy attempt to treat Christianity, patriotism, and white supremacy as interchangeable ideas. He was a Black Christian, Revolutionary soldier and minister who used Scripture and the principles of American liberty to condemn slavery.
Would today’s critics label Lemuel Haynes a “Christian nationalist?” That depends entirely upon which definition they chose on a given day—which is precisely the problem.
Religious Liberty Is Not Secular Erasure
The founders did not establish a national denomination, nor did they authorize government to compel religious belief. The First Amendment prohibits the establishment of religion while protecting its free exercise. Government cannot force Americans to worship, but neither can it demand that Christians abandon their convictions when entering public life.
Separation of church and state was never intended to mean separation of Christianity and citizenship. Every law reflects some understanding of morality. Progressives routinely vote according to their beliefs about equality, autonomy, identity, and social justice. Yet when Christians vote according to their beliefs about life, marriage, family, and religious liberty, critics suddenly scream “Christian nationalism.”
It is a demand that Christians submit politically to people whose moral beliefs are treated as secular and therefore unquestionable.
Christianity Is Woven into the American Republic
Christianity’s influence on American government is visible in its documents, traditions, institutions and public art. The Declaration of Independence appeals to “Nature’s God,” affirms that human rights come from a “Creator,” and expresses reliance upon “divine Providence.” The Northwest Ordinance linked religion and morality with good government. Congress has employed chaplains since the founding era, and legislative sessions are still opened with prayer.
The Capitol itself preserves this history. The Rotunda is saturated with paintings with religious imagery. “The Baptism of Pocahontas” depicts a Christian baptism. “Embarkation of the Pilgrims” shows its subjects praying around a Bible beneath the words “God with us.” “The Landing of Columbus” includes Christian banners, while “Discovery of the Mississippi” features clergy and a prominent cross. Above them, “The Apotheosis of Washington” surrounds the first president with heavenly and allegorical imagery.
Even more striking is the Capitol’s history as a place of worship. Church services began there in 1800 and continued until after the Civil War. The Speaker’s rostrum served as a pulpit. Ministers from numerous Protestant denominations preached there; Catholic priests began officiating in 1826. For over 70 years, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists, Unitarians, Swedenborgians, Catholics, non-denominationalists, and Quakers held services in U.S. House of Representatives chamber. Services were also conducted in the Supreme Court chamber.
Thomas Jefferson attended services in the House despite his famous reference to a “wall of separation between church and state.” James Madison followed his example. Jefferson accepted the services because they were voluntary and nondiscriminatory rather than controlled by an established denomination.
The Library of Congress confirms that services were held in what is now Statuary Hall from 1807 until 1857 and continued elsewhere in the Capitol until after the Civil War. That history is difficult to reconcile with the modern preposterous claim that Christianity becomes dangerous or un-American whenever it enters a government building or influences political decisions.
A Smear Is Not an Argument
Real racial supremacists, theocrats, and political extremists should be identified accurately and opposed directly. But serious accusations require serious evidence. Calling ordinary conservatives “Christian nationalists” because they acknowledge America’s Christian heritage, apply biblical morality to public questions, or refuse to surrender their faith at the edge of the political arena is not analysis. It is name-calling dressed up as scholarship.
The term is useful because it is elastic. It allows critics to place a churchgoing mother objecting to pornography in a school library, a pastor preaching against abortion and an actual extremist into the same rhetorical category.
Christianity did not suddenly invade American government in the 21st century. It is woven into the fabric of the American Republic. Christian thought helped shape the language of natural rights, animated resistance to tyranny, inspired early attacks on slavery, and influenced American ideas about law, liberty, duty, and human dignity.
That history does not establish a national church, nor does it require every American to become a Christian. It simply proves that Christianity is essential to America’s political tradition. No vague, unintelligent, meaningless and fashionable slur like “Christian Nationalism” can erase that fact. Like it or not, America, most definitely, is based on Judeo-Christian principles.
