National Conservatism Conference: Two criticisms, one from the right other from the left

National Conservatism Conference was held in Washington DC from 14th to 16th July, 2019. It promoted itself as a timely reorientation, a recognition of change, and/or a return to the original American conservatism that existed before it was taken over by globalists. The conference website explains:

Politics in America, Britain, and other Western nations have taken a sharp turn toward nationalism—a commitment to a world of independent nations. This has been disorienting to many, not least the American conservative movement, which has, since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, grown increasingly attached to a vision of a global “rules-based liberal order” that would bring peace and prosperity to the entire world while attenuating the independence of nations.  

The return of nationalism has created a much-discussed “crisis of conservatism” that may be unprecedented since modern Anglo-American conservatism was formulated by Russell Kirk, William Buckley, and their colleagues in the 1950s. At the heart of this crisis is a question: Is the new American and British nationalism a hostile usurper that has arrived on the scene to displace political conservatism? Or is nationalism an essential, if neglected, part of the Anglo-American conservative tradition at its best? 

The conference on “National Conservatism” will bring together public figures, journalists, scholars, and students who understand that the past and future of conservatism are inextricably tied to the idea of the nation, to the principle of national independence, and to the revival of the unique national traditions that alone have the power to bind a people together and bring about their flourishing.

We see this public conference as the kick off for a protracted effort to recover and reconsolidate the rich tradition of national conservative thought as an intellectually serious alternative to the excesses of purist libertarianism, and in stark opposition to political theories grounded in race. Our aim is to solidify and energize national conservatives, offering them a much-needed institutional base, substantial ideas in the areas of public policy, political theory, and economics, and an extensive support network across the country.

 Yoram Hazony is the chairman of the Edmund Burke Foundation was the organizer of the conference

Source: National Conservatism (Conference)

Following are two criticisms of the overall conference proceedings, one from Vox and the other from The Federalist. Both criticize the lack of grounding and actual policies presented at the conference. Both point out that  President Trump was mentioned only a few times and his policies were not directly applauded or criticized. 

Andrew Kloster in The Federalist argued that the conference was dominated by neo-conservatives who have lost and are trying to rebrand themselves:

Both the panel (moderated by an American Enterprise Institute fellow, no less) and the keynote represented clear attempts to rehash the same foreign policy hawkishness rejected by huge majorities of Americans on both sides of the aisle, asserted as serving the “national interest.” To call oneself a “realist” or a “nationalist” when promoting regime change in Venezuela, for example, is ludicrous. Americans are not at risk in Venezuela, nor is there treasure or territory for our people to win there... 

Many good Americans, myself included, now realize that we were swindled by Conservative, Inc. during the Bush years. But promoting the same failed policies, and rehabilitating the same failed “experts,” simply because they have rebranded as “national conservatives,” will not advance the American cause. No, Hazony is not the leader we are looking for, and his repackaged neoconservatism is not the unifying principle for a New America. We want neither Athens, nor Jerusalem, but America... 

Overall the entire event fails to cohere, precisely because abstract nationalism and abstract traditionalism fail in the same way liberalism fails: they purport neutrality and ecumenism while surreptitiously importing thick conceptions of the good. Who, precisely, constitutes our nation? Who are Americans? What is America? Hazony never quite says. In this sense, “national conservatism” is ambiguous—is it national, meaning Anglo-American? Or is it national, meaning nation-wide, federal? 

Rather than lauding the particular nation of the Founding—church on Sundays; boisterous Baptism, fastidious Methodism; New Testament mercy; barn raisings; agrarianism; state sovereignty; drifters and vagrants; local fiefs; free movement (but not that free); private militias; states with usury bans, those that allow it; periodic rebellion; trial by jury (and jury nullification); free, incendiary speech—we get an abstract thing. Never concrete. It does no good to praise abstract Americanism, abstract nationalism.

 Zack Beauchamp in Vox.com also took the conference organizers and most of the speakers to the task for not denouncing Trump for his overall racism and his diatribe against the squad (that happened during the conference), and for not telling Americans "what happens to conservative nationalism when it is put into practice":

Speakers took great pains to draw distinctions between the conference’s ideals and those of the alt-right. During an opening night speech, David Brog, one of the conference organizers, pointed out the exit door and told any racists in the audience that they should head out of it. Yet the speakers also overwhelmingly agreed that a central part of “national conservatism” involved opposing allegedly divisive cultural change wrought by mass immigration. 

There’s an obvious tension in this project of building a conservatism that is simultaneously skeptical of cultural change caused by immigration and, somehow, inclusive of the largely nonwhite immigrants who are responsible for changing it. At times, it became too much to bear... 

No panelist attempted to grapple with this fundamental problem for their agenda. The notion that racism was a major force in American political life was mocked — the word “woke” was a frequent punchline — or sidelined as merely a problem of a tiny alt-right fringe rather than a huge swath of GOP voters. 

This practical reality is, more fundamentally than theory, why Brog and Hazony’s project is doomed. All their denunciations of racism in the abstract, however heartfelt, are empty without a full-throated denunciation of Trump — like a fancy of way of saying “I’m not a racist, but.” Yet they cannot denounce Trump and still claim to speak for “national conservatism,” because Trump is seen by most people (correctly) as this set of ideas made flesh. 

There is no way to square this circle. The “national conservative” conference attendees may dream of a better conservatism, but they already have what they’re trying to create. And it’s much uglier than they can admit.

White and non-white evangelicals: do their politics differ?

Evangelicals are usually spoken as a group that supports political and social conservatism. They are identified as a religious group that votes as a block and as it is close to 20-30% of the population, its views become very important during the US elections. However, while almost all evangelicals are socially conservative, research shows that, politically, evangelicals have diverse opinions and positions. Then, why it seems that evangelicals vote as a block for the Republican Party. There are three reasons:

• About two-thirds of the evangelicals are non-Hispanic white;
• White non-Hispanic Americans, including white non-Hispanic evangelicals, are more likely to vote than African-Americans or Hispanics;
• Many conservatives, who are not evangelicals according to most religious/doctrinal definitions, identify themselves as evangelicals.  

Add these three factors and it would be easier to see why more than 80% evangelicals regularly vote for the Republican Party even when the party leadership has regularly supported racist and anti-immigrant policies. President Trump's nomination, election, and continued popularity among evangelicals show that the political choices of evangelical voters (who are mostly white) are informed as much by race as they are by religion. 

A previous blog post discusses in detail the debate over how to define an evangelical and whether self-identification (which is the way most political polls identify evangelicals) is the right way to identify evangelicals, so we will not explore these issues here (for those who want to read about it: Who are evangelical Christians?). 

Here are two articles that explain the link of evangelism, race and voting behavior. 

The FiveThirtyEight article How Trump And Race Are Splitting Evangelicals? contends that race and President Trump are dividing evangelicals or exacerbating their differences:

 America’s community of self-described evangelicals, about a fourth of the population, is increasingly divided between a more conservative, Trump-aligned bloc deeply worried about losing the so-called culture wars; and a bloc that is more liberal on issues like immigration, conscious of the need to appeal to nonwhite Christians and wary of the president. The split in evangelical Christianity isn’t new, but it appears to be widening under Trump. 

Two factors appear to be driving this divide. First, the number of white evangelicals is in decline in America at the same time that the evangelical population is becoming more racially diverse. According to 2016 data from the Public Religion Research Institute, about 64 percent of evangelicals are non-Hispanic white, compared to about 68 percent in 2006... 

And these nonwhite evangelicals see politics differently than white evangelicals. While the largest plurality of white evangelicals identify as Republicans, most black evangelicals are Democrats. A plurality of evangelical Latinos, in contrast, identify as political independents — and they’re less supportive of the Democratic Party than Latinos overall — but they are still more likely to consider themselves Democrats than Republicans.

Source: How Trump And Race Are Splitting Evangelicals? 

The second factor driving this divide among evangelicals is Trump himself. His governing style is, in effect, forcing evangelical leaders to choose between embracing the white evangelicals who overwhelmingly support the president or distancing themselves from the president — and even politics generally — as part of an appeal to their diversifying congregations.

The Religion & Politics essay We Are All Evangelicals Now blames a "sense of “racial embattlement," the belief that one's group faces more discrimination than any other group in the US, for the voting pattern of evangelicals, who are mostly white. The author, Janelle Wong, argues that evangelicals are not outliers and their views are close to those of white Americans as white Americans also feel being discriminated against. The only difference is intensity, "Evangelicals embody U.S. racial attitudes on steroids." Wong concludes the essay by focusing on narratives of white persecution: 

The bottom line is that the racial divides and racial anxieties we see in evangelical America are not so different from the views of white Americans more generally. I speculate that these attitudes are more extreme than those of other white Americans because their fears of demographic change are even more exaggerated than other whites. A narrative of religious persecution runs deep in white evangelical theological circles. Believers expect to be attacked for their religious commitments. Hence, their defenses may be easily raised by “the War on Christmas.” Narratives of persecution have primed them to expect a broad cultural assault, despite the fact that white Christians face the least religious persecution of any religious group in the United States. These fears of religious persecution, unfounded or not, interact in an especially potent way with fears of racial embattlement to produce the political conservatism detailed above. That being said, the racial patterns we observe among evangelicals are more intense, but consistent with the racial patterns that define the country as a whole. In this respect, we all share something very deep with evangelicals.

American (Christian) Churches and Racism

The last blog post focused on whether religion is part of white nationalism. This blog post furthers the debate on how white racism was supported by the Christian churches in the US. It is very difficult to separate white racism (or for that matter white nationalism) from Christianity in the US. Protestant Christianity was part of American nationalism. White Anglo-Saxon Protestants or WASPs controlled the state and were the leaders of the society. And they were not ready to accept Blacks or Jews or even Catholics or Mormons as American. The national identity was defined by the WASPs and they drew the boundaries around them.

Jemar Tisby's new book, The Color of Compromise: The Truth about the American Church’s Complicity in Racism, narrates the history of complicity of American churches in racism:

The Color of Compromise takes readers on a historical journey: from America’s early colonial days through slavery and the Civil War, covering the tragedy of Jim Crow laws and the victories of the Civil Rights era, to today’s Black Lives Matter movement. Author Jemar Tisby reveals the obvious—and the far more subtle—ways the American church has compromised what the Bible teaches about human dignity and equality. 

 Tisby uncovers the roots of sustained injustice in the American church, highlighting the cultural and institutional tables that need to be turned in order to bring about real and lasting progress between black and white people. Through a story-driven survey of American Christianity’s racial past, he exposes the concrete and chilling ways people of faith have actively worked against racial justice, as well as the deafening silence of the white evangelical majority. Tisby shows that while there has been progress in fighting racism, historically the majority of the American church has failed to speak out against this evil. This ongoing complicity is a stain upon the church, and sadly, it continues today. 

Tisby does more than diagnose the problem, however. He charts a path forward with intriguing ideas that further the conversation as he challenges us to reverse these patterns and systems of complicity with bold, courageous, and immediate action. The Color of Compromise provides an accurate diagnosis for a racially divided American church and suggests creative ways to foster a more equitable and inclusive environment among God’s people.

Religion and Politics did an interview with Mr. Tisby. Some excerpts of the interview are given below (Full interview can be read here): 

R&P: As the subtitle states, your book is a sweeping survey of the American church’s complicity in racism. To your mind, what constitutes complicity?
Jemar Tisby: The book opens with the story of four girls who died when the 16th Street Baptist Church was bombed in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1963. Shortly after that event, a white lawyer named Charles Morgan Jr. got up in front of an all-white business club and gave an address in which he asked who was responsible for throwing that bomb. In answer to his own question, he said, “We all did it.” 

He went on to explain that every time that the white community—especially Christians—failed to confront racism in its everyday, mundane forms, they created a context of compromise that allowed for an extreme act of racial terror like planting dynamite at a church. That’s the idea of complicity. It’s not that every Christian was a foaming-at-the-mouth racist hurling racial slurs and burning crosses on peoples’ lawns. It’s that when they had the opportunity to intervene in everyday ways, they chose complicity over confrontation, and this enabled a larger atmosphere of racial compromise.

R&P: Though some American Christians were enthusiastically racist and others were anti-racist, most just accepted racist institutions. To what extent are we free to judge that, and to what extent do we have to accept them as products of their time?
JT: I think some would argue that most of those who I am identifying as complicit in racism were merely men and women of their time. But I would respond that the abolitionists and civil rights activists and others who struggled for black freedom were also men and women of their time. So it’s not as though Christians—particularly white Christians—didn’t know there were alternatives. It’s that they must have had some investment in maintaining the status quo, or that they had some fear of what other people would say or what they would risk if they stood up for racial equality. 

R&P: Was the situation in the South markedly different from that in the North?
JT: A lot of people like to point a finger at the South and say, “Those are the real racists.” The implication is that there is no comparable problem in the Midwest or the West coast or the Northeast. But the reality is much more complicated than that. 

I purposely included a chapter in the book on Christian complicity in the North, and by North I mean anywhere outside of the South. There are examples from various geographic regions. The bottom line is that bigotry knows no boundaries. It’s not that racism stopped at the Mason-Dixon line. The thing that makes the South stand out is that this was the physical site where race-based chattel slavery occurred. It’s the place where the plantations were located. But the entire country was implicated because the agricultural production in the South fueled industrial production in the North and other parts of the United States. 

Later, when the country played host to race riots—and here I mean white race riots—these occurred in urban areas outside of the South, like Chicago, St. Louis, Los Angeles, and others in the Northeast as well. So there was no region that was free from complicity and no region that was free from racism. 

R&P: As the nation moved from slavery to Jim Crow to redlining and mass incarceration, did the church response reveal any sort of moral trajectory? Did it get noticeably better or worse over time?
JT: Martin Luther King Jr. once said that, when it came to issues of justice, the church was often the taillight rather than the headlight in society. By that, he meant that the church often followed along after changes in the racial status quo were already taking place in different arenas, from politics to entertainment to corporations, and that’s what we often see throughout U.S. history. Though many Christians were actively engaged in struggles for racial equality, they tended to be in the minority. The majority of white Christians, at least, did change, but only as the national sentiment was already moving toward more openness and more equality. The change was slow and a little reluctant. 

Consider G.T. Gillespie, for example. In 1954, the year of the Brown v. Board of Education ruling, Gillespie was president emeritus of Belhaven College, and he gave an address called “A Christian View on Segregation,” in which he justified racial segregation, he said, based on the Bible. It’s just one example of many white evangelical Christians fighting against the political changes that would promote racial integration. 

It was only after Brown v. Board that many Christians capitulated to what was already the law of the land. But there was a disappointing scarcity of Christians who were promoting racial integration or celebrating the end of Jim Crow.

Is White nationalism Christian or religious?

Three articles debating whether white nationalism is Christian? Murali Balaji's articles support the contention while John W. Morehead's article negates it.

Source: The way of improvement

Behind New Zealand Terror Attack Is a Problem Bigger Than Islamophobia

Mar 18, 2019, 3:21pm Murali Balaji

Even as advocates point to growing Islamophobia as the cause of the attack, the larger issue seems to be white Christian nationalism.

As a white terrorist from Australia emptied clips of his M16 into the Al Noor and Linwood mosques in New Zealand, killing 49 innocent worshippers, his manifesto revealed the depths and scope to which Christian nationalism has entrenched itself into white majority countries.  

Even as advocates point to growing Islamophobia as the cause of the attack, the larger issue seems to be a reactionary—and almost theological—white Christian nationalism that has taken hold over the past decade. And it can’t just be whitewashed away with the “economic displacement” trope.

Indeed, white Christian terrorists like Anders Breivik in Norway, Dylann Roof in South Carolina, and now Brenton Tarrant, are self-styled (and self-described) soldiers in a fight against greater threats: secularism and pluralism.

While white Christian nationalism has its roots in the United States during Reconstruction, it grew in the 1960s as the evangelical movement attracted new congregants fearful of racial and gender equality activism. Over time, these congregants conflated their racial resentment with religiosity, and viewed the idea of a secular country—and a pluralistic one—as tantamount to their extinction.

This Christian nationalism found its way to other parts of the globe, and weren’t necessarily tied to evangelical movements. The resentment-bred, reactionary politics of the National Front in France and far-right movements across Europe were tied to insecurities about what it meant to be a citizen of a particular country. Breivik weaponized that sentiment in 2011 with his terror attack, and Roof cited similar sentiments after slaughtering congregants of an African American Church in 2015.

We are distracted by incidents of mass murder and terror, and assume white Christian nationalism is a series of one-offs, rather than an increasingly pandemic problem across white majority nations in demographic transition. It’s growing in our own backyards, too, and not just because of Trumpism and social media.

To blame Trump, Facebook posts, and rambling manifestos for carnage overlooks our failure to confront the grievances fueling white Christian nationalism. Assuming secular values and pluralism will win out in the end does nothing to prevent the ideological violence of Christian nationalism from spreading. Just as Wahhabism spread as a grievance-based movement against ostensibly secular Pan-Arab dictatorships in the 1960s before morphing into a powerful global threat, white Christian nationalism is a tinderbox.

We have to have the tools to snuff the fire before it lights.

White Christian Nationalism May Not Be Religious, But It Is Christian

Mar 21, 2019, 4:26pm Murali Balaji

White Christian nationalism’s foot soldiers don’t necessarily connect their racial resentment with their devotion to the Bible, yet they're often trying to retake what they presume to be lost: white and Christian dominance. 

After my recent post on the terror attack in New Zealand, several Christians reached out to Religion Dispatches and directly to me asking why I conflated white terrorism with Christian nationalism.

They eloquently noted that the shooter (whose name I shall not use) did not use Christian theology, but espoused anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant views that seemed disconnected from religion. But in making that argument, they might be missing a larger point: white Christian nationalism isn’t religious (or even grounded in religious scripture), but its adherents nearly always frame their grievances in terms of endangered white Christian societies.

Following Charlottesville, I wrote that white nationalism does have theological roots, with evangelicals like Bob Jones standing firmly in the way of civil rights. In modern iterations, white nationalism and Christian fundamentalism have converged with folks like Tony Perkins, Steve King (who is at it again), and David Duke.

But for the most part, white Christian nationalism’s foot soldiers don’t necessarily connect their racial resentment with their devotion to the Bible. Many aren’t religious, and in fact that’s generally beside the point. Instead, their resentment towards Others (generally non-white and non-Christian populations) is built up over time, largely through online portals that function as echo chambers for the blend of history, conspiracy theory, and racism that produces and sustains white Christian nationalism.

And we should note that it’s really a resentment movement that wears religion like a hood ornament or team colors. In such a definition, these nationalists are trying to retake what they presume to be lost: white and Christian dominance. 

In a larger context, none of the nationalist and exclusivist movements—Jewish nationalism in Israel; Islamism in parts of Africa, the Middle East, South and Southeast Asia; Hindu nationalism in parts of India; Buddhist nationalism in Sri Lanka, Myanmar and Thailand—that have grown in recent years are grounded in theology. They’re all connected by a shared sense of grievance and an imagined community based on assumed shared ideals.

The New Zealand terrorist might not have been religious per se, but he was 100 percent devoted to the divine providence of white (Christian) nationhood.

Misdiagnosing Nationalism as ‘Christian’ Exacerbates the Challenges of Islamophobia: A Response to Murali Balaji

Mar 29, 2019, 12:59pm John W. Morehead

Christian nationalism and White nationalism have some common concerns, but they shouldn’t be conflated in their differing narratives and responses to Muslims and other immigrants.

In the wake of the terrorist attacks on two Muslim mosques in New Zealand by Brenton Tarrant, many are looking to address the motivations and influences underlying the violence. In two RD posts, one from March 18 and another from March 22, Murali Balaji argues that the attacks were rooted in white Christian nationalism. But is Balaji defining Christian nationalism correctly, and is it the best way to characterize Tarrant’s ideological narrative? I will argue below that the answer is “no” to both questions.

To the question of defining Christian nationalism, there is a helpful body of academic research in political science and the social sciences relevant to this. The lead researchers in one study argue that “the conservative strain [of American civil religion] views America as holding a unique covenant with God, which requires it to be protected from outsiders and those who would do it harm. We refer to these ideas more generally as Christian nationalism.” Contrary to Balaji’s assertions in his second essay, Christian nationalism is religious, and it incorporates theological elements. This results in perceptions of “divinely anointed” Christian ingroup members vs. “theologically condemned” outgroup members like Muslims. This fusion of religious and national identities is noteworthy among white American evangelicals, where being Christian is very important to being truly American. This was the Christian nationalism that was a significant factor for white evangelicals who voted for Trump in 2016.

By contrast there are other forms of nationalism. The type associated with white supremacy, sometimes called white nationalism, is concerned with ethnocentrism and the superiority of the white race. Both white nationalism and Christian nationalism have shared concerns about “cultural displacement,” and involve prejudice toward immigrant populations, sometimes seen as “invaders,” manifested in anti-immigrant and anti-Muslim attitudes. But these two forms of nationalism, even with some shared fears, are not the same thing. So Balaji does not define Christian nationalism correctly and conflates it with other forms of nationalism.

To the second question, what type of nationalism did Tarrant espouse? Before his attacks, Tarrant posted a 74-page document on the internet. According to J.M. Berger, an expert in online extremism, Tarrant’s manifesto is “clearly a statement of ideology,” described as white nationalist, and the author “is a white supremacist, and anti-immigration and anti-Muslim.” There is no indication in Berger’s analysis that Tarrant included statements that would characterize his ideology as a form of Christian nationalism.

If Christian nationalism is not the proper way to understand Tarrant’s nationalism, but instead a form of white supremacist nationalism is more accurate, where did the major anti-immigrant influences come from? According to Sasha Polakow-Suransky and Sarah Wildman at Foreign Policy, Tarrant draws upon the work of Renaud Camus, a French anti-immigration writer. They note that while Tarrant was in France at a mall watching immigrant “invaders,” the idea came to him to use violence against nonwhites. Polakow-Suransky and Wildman quote from Tarrant’s manifesto illustrating the emotional impact this had on the soon-to-be mass murderer: “I found my emotions swinging between fuming rage and suffocating despair at the indignity of France, the pessimism of the french [sic] people, the loss of culture and identity and the farce of the political solutions offered.”

It would seem that Balaji has identified the wrong type of nationalism in connection with the New Zealand terrorism. White nationalism provided the ideological narrative, not Christian nationalism.

In the interests of full disclosure, I identify as a Christian. But my disagreement and critique of Balaji’s thesis should not be interpreted as a failure to accept criticism of those in my religious tradition. For the last four years I have been pursuing a grant from the Louisville Institute that has brought social psychology into conversation with American evangelical theologies of opposition to religious others, particularly Muslims. Among the contributing factors, our research indicates that Christian nationalism is a significant predictor of negative attitudes toward Muslims. I accept this, and advocate strategies to counter this narrative so as to foster more positive forms of multifaith interaction.

Christians have behaved badly, and pursued violence toward others, in the name of their religion. That’s beyond dispute. But whether Christian nationalism was the ideological narrative underlying New Zealand’s attacks, that’s another question. And it’s one that I think Balaji misidentified. If we misdiagnose the challenges we face we will create inappropriate strategies to counter them, and possibly foster even more tensions between Christians and Muslims.

***

Murali Balaji responds:

Following my first and second pieces in Religion Dispatches, several evangelical leaders have offered thoughtful critiques of my position that the New Zealand terrorist (whom I will not name) is a white Christian nationalist.

John Morehead writes in his response that I mislabeled anti-immigrant white nationalism as “Christian nationalism,” asserting that “White nationalism provided the ideological narrative, not Christian nationalism.”

I respectfully disagree.

For starters, I emphasized that a white Christian nationalist doesn’t necessarily have to be “religious” in the traditional sense. I would argue that Donald Trump and Mike Pence are both white Christian nationalists, though the former hardly has any attachment to the actual theology of Christianity.

In this regard, white Christian nationalists draw upon and reference a pure white Christian ideal—one that arguably never existed anywhere. If we reference Benedict Anderson’s notion of imagined communities, the white Christian ideal becomes an affinity that helps to build a collective identity.

The terrorist’s manifesto also makes reference to Pope Urban II and the First Crusade, implying that he fancied himself part of a holy war against Muslims and other invaders. While Morehead’s argument seeks to clearly distinguish between white nationalism and Christian nationalism, the terrorist’s own words seem to undercut this attempt.

“We are coming for Constantinople and we will destroy every mosque and minaret in the city,” the terrorist wrote in his manifesto. That’s not subtle in its call for Christian supremacy and destruction of Islam.

I sympathize with Morehead’s position, but the terrorist seems to make both implicit and explicit references to a dream that many white Christian nationalists share: a return to white Christian dominance over its non-white, non-Christian others.

MBS and the evolving Saudi Nationalism

Saudi Arabian is evolving but which way? This question was discussed here three years ago (See Saudi Arabian Nationalism, MBS, Salafism and Yemen War). At that time, the role of Islam in Saudi nationalism was ebbing but the same could not be said about Salafism. One could rightly argue that Salafism is a form of Islam but Salafism and (moderate) Islam can sometimes lead one in different directions. It would be difficult to promote Iran as the most dangerous enemy if Islam was a major component of Saudi nationalism but it would be a facile victory if Saudi state subscribes to Salafi nationalism as Salafism (or Wahhabism as its detractors call it) has long designated Shiism as its enemy. For many Salafis, Shiites are infidels, beyond the pale of Islam. The other debate in the 2016 blogpost was about the strength of secular nationalism in the holy kingdom. In 2016, Prince Mohammad bin Salam was still Deputy Crown Prince but was amassing power and trying to lead the kingdom in a new direction. He was speaking against strict religious control and restrictions on Saudi women. Yemen War was being used by him to project himself as the new leader and as someone who would bring Saudis to the 21st century. 

Since then, things have moved swiftly. MBS has become the crown prince while his cousin and previous crown prince is nowhere to be seen. MBS has shown his power by detaining dozens of princes and rich Saudis and getting billions of dollars from them. He has also moved to decrease gender discrimination, although it is still too high even compared to other Muslim-majority and developing countries (See Women can drive in Saudi Arabia but is it really a big change?). This has resulted in some criticism from Salafi religious establishment but MBS has forged ahead.

King Salman (sitting) and the de facto king (MBS)

Source: Why Saudi Arabia Is Embracing a New Nationalism

What about nationalism or more particularly religious/Salafi nationalism? Stratfor in an article contends that Saudi state and MBS have realized that religious nationalism's utility now has diminished and a more territorial nationalism would help achieve national goals (See Why Saudi Arabia Is Embracing a New Nationalism):

At this point in its history, nationalism has stronger benefits to the Saudi state than religious conservatism. Tying identity to a specific place weakens the power of non-Saudi Islamists at home, for example; in a nationalist culture, verbal attacks by Turkish, Egyptian and Iranian Islamists would not represent salient criticisms from fellow Muslims, but rather unwelcome foreign interferences in domestic affairs. Moreover, shifting the Saudi mindset away from the tradition-bound reverence of religion toward the immediacy and secularity of a geographically defined space also opens up the potential for innovation and new ideas — key ingredients for bringing Vision 2030 to fruition.  

Critically, nationalism allows royals to limit domestic policy challenges based on religious opinions, conveniently weakening a check on their power as they embrace unprecedented behavior such as considering once-unthinkable ties with Israel. This also undercuts the ability of the conservative clerics to object to some of the kingdom's social reforms, like gender mixing, encouraging women to work and drive, and encouraging previously banned forms of art and entertainment...

While the contrast between Saudi Islamism and the Christian religious community in the United States has long been a complicating element of U.S.-Saudi ties, Prince Mohammed's meeting with Christian leaders illustrated a more relaxed attitude toward Christianity, which the kingdom hopes will improve relations with the United States. And any stories about non-Islamic worship being permitted publicly in Saudi Arabia, even if just for expatriates, weakens the image of a Saudi culture defined by hard-liners and encourages nationalist thought to expand in schools, media and art.

A recent article by Vivian Nereim (Bloomberg.com) echos the analysis and argues that the Saudi state under MBS is moving away from Salafi nationalism (See ‘Traitor’ Is the New ‘Infidel’ as Nationalism Grips Saudi Arabia). She contends that an aggressive and exclusivist nationalism is still being promoted but it is not primarily based on religion or sect:

Saudi Arabia’s undergoing an aggressive nationalist rebranding, downplaying an austere religious doctrine associated abroad with terrorism, and promoting veneration of de facto ruler Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman as he pursues an economic overhaul. Amid efforts to maintain domestic support while redesigning the contract between state and citizen, traitors, not infidels, are the enemy... 

“If a person is neutral or stands with the enemy against this country, it’s our right to call him a traitor,” Abdullah Al Fozan, a member of the [Saudi] consultative council [the nominated advisory council that functions in lieu of a legislature], said in a televised diatribe that went viral late last year... 

There’s an echo of the nativist triumphalism that accompanied political earthquakes in Europe and the U.S., with Donald Trump-inspired slogans like “Saudi First” and “Saudi The Great.” But what’s happening also has local flavors.

Such an aggressive nationalism can derail MBS plans of economic revival, religious and non-religious mega-tourism, and foreign investment but the Saudi officials are not relenting:

The risk is that baiting people to turn on fellow citizens under the guise of patriotism might rupture a society already under strain from the costs imposed by Prince Mohammed’s “Vision 2030” reforms, and deter the foreign investors and visitors he wants to attract. 

For now, officials aren’t hurrying to squash the spiteful mood -- a “with us or against us” mindset seen by some Saudis as needed to steer the country through a tough transition...
“Nationalism came in at a time when Saudi Arabia was not only trying to curtail the religious identity inside the country, but was also following a more assertive foreign policy,” said Eman Alhussein, a Saudi visiting fellow with the European Council on Foreign Relations... 

Whoever is responsible, they’re changing behavior. Stand-up comedian Yaser Bakr was forced to give a public apology last month after an old video surfaced of him making fun of the religious police. A social media campaign labeled him a traitor and called for him to be arrested and banned from comedy. Another young Saudi said he’s abandoned Twitter and holds back in family gatherings to avoid questions over loyalty.

The biggest test yet faced by the made over Saudi state, besides Yemen War, was Saudi dissident journalist and Washington Post columnist Jamal Khashoggi's murder. Khashoggi was once part of the ruling elite and close to the royal family. He was a Salafi and was against Iran. His only crime was criticizing MBS in the Western press and that cost him dearly in the hyper-nationalistic climate. 

Other analysts have also pointed to the close ties with the Trump administration, coordination with the Israeli government (although it is not publically acknowledged), and distance from the Palestinian administration as evidence of the lesser role of religion in the affairs of the Saudi state. True, but the lack of public acknowledgment also demonstrates that religious and Arab issues still carry weight. What is clear is that Islam and Salafism carry less weight now than they carried five years ago in Saudi Arabia. A new identity is being forged which is based not only on Islam or Salafism but also on territory and loyalty to Saudi royals.   

However, this new identity can create new problems. Stratfor article cautions that territorial nationalism can unite the people against the royal house as has happened in many other countries during the 20th century:

Though Saudi leaders are hoping that a swell of nationalism will reduce checks on royal power, nationalist thought itself — especially once regular citizens have fully embraced it — could replace those checks and even eclipse their power. Former Saudi kings saw nationalist thought as a danger to royal unilateralism, preferring the hierarchical and relatively predictable hard-line Islamists to the more rowdy and innovative nationalists of the 20th century. A new push for Saudi nationalism may challenge the monarchy in exactly the way that its 20th century rulers wanted to avoid. 

Identifying with a nation, after all, is far different than identifying with the ruling house of the nation's government. Asking Saudis for loyalty to national interests invites increasing citizen engagement with what, exactly, the national interests are — a question that until recently has been answered only by the royal family. As nationalism ascends, Saudi public opinion stands to grow more complex and less easily motivated by the tools of old, including handouts and religious scruples. 

Additionally, if nationalism is equated with the traditions of Najd province [the home of the royal family], where Riyadh is located, rather than being pan-Arabian, nominally suppressed or sidelined local identities may experience a resurgence. Places like Shiite-dominated Qatif in the Eastern province, Asir in the southwest and the Hejaz, which hosts the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, all have local identities that may be empowered by nationalism and may bristle against the state's imposition of Najdi symbols, rituals and culture.
 

Billy Graham's lying in honor and America's civil religion

What is America's civil religion and is the decision to allow Reverend Billy Graham's body to “lie in honor” in the nation’s Capitol in line with constitutional separation of church and state? The Rev. Graham died on Feb. 21 at age 99. He is the first religious figure that had the distinction to “lie in honor” at the Rotunda of the Capitol. The tradition of lying in state (for those who have served the American government in some capacity) and lying in honor is old. It started in 1852 when Henry Clay (Secretary of State, Senator and Speaker of the House) was laid in state in 1852. 

An article in Washington Post debates the issue of honoring a Christian pastor in the Capitol of a secular state:

Barbara Perry, director of presidential studies at the Miller Center for presidential and political history at the University of Virginia, said she thinks honoring someone whose primary service was the conversion of people to a certain faith with a Rotunda ceremony violates the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment.

Although Graham was an adviser to presidents, Perry noted, tapes came out later revealing Graham and President Richard M. Nixon sharing anti-Semitic views, and civil rights historians have noted that Graham urged the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and others not to press hard on the cause of racial equality. 

“Not that he shouldn’t be lauded, but does he deserve to lie in honor in the U.S. Capitol? And once you open that door, where do you stop?” Perry said. “Lying in honor should be someone who served their country. Well, how did he do that?”

The Freedom From Religion Foundation, a nonprofit organization that pushes for the separation of church and state, wrote a formal complaint letter to Ryan and McConnell. “The fact is that Graham lived his life in service to his evangelical Christian religion, and the Bible that he believed was an infallible reference manual. He placed the Bible far above the Constitution,” the advocacy group wrote. 

The advocacy group Americans United for the Separation of Church and State on Wednesday released a statement saying Graham should not have been a Rotunda honoree.

“We don’t say this to criticize a man who has died, but because the question of who should receive this rare honor warrants public discussion. … Such a high government honor for someone solely for their work spreading an interpretation of one faith offends the spirit of our First Amendment’s guarantee that government will not take actions that endorse or promote religion,” the statement read. 

The office of the historian of the House of Representatives declined to give more information about the criteria used to select Graham, or other past honorees. The Office of the Architect of the Capitol, which hosted the service, said only that such services are prompted by congressional resolution or by congressional leaders. 

At the private service Wednesday, Ryan, McConnell and Trump gave deeply religious tributes. 

“Today we give thanks for this extraordinary life. And it is very fitting that we do so in the Rotunda of the U.S. Capitol, where the memory of the American people is enshrined. Here in this room we are reminded that America is a nation sustained by prayer,” Trump told the crowd. “Today we honor him as only three other previous private citizens have been. Like the faithful of Charlotte once did, we say a prayer that all across the land, the Lord will raise up men and women like Billy Graham to spread a message of love and hope to every precious child of God.”

According to Pew Research data, about a half of Americans say they pray daily, while a quarter say they seldom or never pray. Trump’s own belief about God and his prayer life are not clear, though he does not attend church regularly and has said he does not ask God for forgiveness — two basic tenets of traditional Christian practice. About one-fifth of Americans say they have no religious affiliation. 

Source:  Richard Nixon appeared at one of Graham’s revivals in Tennessee in 1970, the first president to give a speech from an evangelist’s platform

Historians and Graham experts said his life spanned a period when there was more of a shared concept of American “civil religion” — in other words, that being a pious person in and of itself had merit. 

Graham’s other high honors, said William Martin, senior fellow in religion at Rice University and author of the upcoming “A Prophet With Honor: The Billy Graham Story,” came in part because “of just the fact that he was calling people to be Christian. To live lives as good citizens and of service.” These were decades when the connection between those things seemed obvious to Americans — even if they unofficially agreed not to speak of things like racial segregation and gender inequality. 

However, Martin said Graham was responsible for more than winning souls. He served as a kind of unofficial diplomat between the United States and foreign leaders, comforted soldiers in Korea and Vietnam, and “did more to enlarge the scope of religious freedom in Eastern Europe than perhaps any else.” 

The Wednesday service, Martin said, “to a significant extent shows the difference between then and now.” 

Historians also said while Graham typically delivered public prayers explicitly in the name of Jesus Christ, he became increasingly in his life more sensitive to the diversifying America. In contrast to his son, evangelist Franklin Graham, Billy Graham said decades ago that Muslims and Christians worshipped the same God, Martin said. Franklin Graham has called Islam “a very wicked and evil religion.” 

Wednesday shows how America includes radically different religious bubbles. While some considered the service shocking for such a diverse nation, the country’s three most prominent political leaders chose to focus not on Graham’s secular accomplishments but on his faith, known as a sincere and humble one. 

“But remember the current leadership hasn’t been remarkably hospitable to the changes” in America, Martin said.

Grant Wacker, author of “America’s Pastor: Billy Graham and the Shaping of a Nation,” said that although the lawmakers in the Rotunda on Wednesday focused on Graham’s religious faith, the late evangelist would have expanded on how that faith must lead people to confront societal problems. 

Ryan praised Graham as “challenging us to look at the right questions.” 

“Although Ryan does not say so, part of Graham’s lifelong mission was pressing people to look around at the crises on the international and national scenes and look within at the crises in their own lives, and ask what is wrong? In all cases what is ultimately wrong is sin, resulting in greed, cruelty, etc.,” Wacker wrote to the Post. 

Historians, clergy of all kinds and everyday Americans have been memorializing Graham in the days since he died, sharing stories about how his multimedia, racially integrated and nonpartisan crusades changed the face of American religion. Many have shared simple stories of how his humility and clear faith converted them. Others have debated what impact he could have had on issues such as racism and economic equality if he had made them his causes. Some say he would have bemoaned how partisan U.S. evangelicalism has become, while others argue that he planted the seeds. (see Billy Graham is the first religious leader to lie in honor at the U.S. Capitol. Some say he should be the last)

 Kimberly Winston discusses the issue with respect to American civil religion. She explains what is American civil religion and how honoring Graham is linked to American civil religion?

American civil religion is the idea that, even though the United States has no official religion and is made of up of adherents of every religion and no religion at all, there is a set of common symbols, rites, rituals and traditions that serve Americans the same way religions do for adherents. Think of the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance, the singing of the national anthem or “God Bless America,” a military gun salute, the honoring of veterans on Memorial Day, etc. These rituals are valued, expected on certain occasions or holidays, and they unite Americans of different backgrounds in their observance...

We have separation of church and state, so why should a preacher lie in honor in the nation’s Capitol? 

That’s a thornier question. There are certainly arguments to be made for and against. Putting those aside, the tradition of publicly mourning notable Americans can buttress aspects of civil religion that bond Americans of all faiths and no faith. 

“Funerals are powerful rites of reconciliation that may dispel controversy and promote a sense of public accord,” Emma Brodzinski writes of state funerals and lying in state in the Encyclopedia of Death and Human Experience. Referring to Lincoln’s lying in state — the first by an American president in the Capitol — she continues that the “grandeur” of such a setting and such a ritual can become “a restatement of American values.” 

In other words, whether you think honoring Graham in the Capitol Rotunda is pandering to President Trump’s evangelical base or you think it is recognition due a man many beyond evangelicals considered great, his lying in honor is part of the American civil religion that can unite us all. (see Billy Graham, lying in honor and American Civil Religion)

Who are evangelical Christians?

It is widely accepted that evangelical Christians are the main force behind the rising tide of religious nationalism in the US. The triumph of President Trump in 2016 presidential election was not possible without evangelical support. One year later, the evangelicals are still one of the most loyal supporters of President Trump. But who are these evangelicals? Some researchers simply ask a person whether he or she is an evangelical or a born-again Christian i.e. give priority to self-identification. They do not worry about an objective definition or think it is impossible to define evangelicals objectively (because being born-again is a personal experience which cannot be measured objectively). However, as a very large number of American, sometimes having very different political, social and religious beliefs/attitudes, self-identify themselves as evangelicals, it is important to dig a little deeper than simply asking a person whether he or she is an evangelical or is a "born-again" Christian. 

The disparate nature of evangelicalism makes its members difficult to define. They don’t have a single authority like the Roman Catholic pope or Mormon First Presidency, so you can’t just phone a central office and ask for the official definition. Since they span a range of denominations, churches, and organizations, there is no single membership statement to delineate identity. As a result, individual observers are left to decide how to define what makes someone or something evangelical. To the pollster, it is a sociological term. To the pastor, it is a denominational or doctrinal term. And to the politician, it is a synonym for a white Christian Republican.

So what is an evangelical, for the love of God, and why does it even matter?...

David Kinnaman, the president of Barna Group and author of the forthcoming Good Faith: Being a Christian When Society Thinks You’re Irrelevant and Extreme argues that “The way one defines ‘evangelical’ influences the story they tell about the most influential group within the most influential religion in the world’s most influential country.” 

Depending on how you define the term, evangelicals comprise between 7 percent and 47 percent of the American population. Divergent definitions have led to inconsistent, even contradictory survey results about evangelicals’ beliefs and characteristics. Reports based on these surveys can shape elections, public policies, and broader public opinion. (see Defining 'Evangelical')

Billy Graham, the most prominent evangelical of the 20th century, himself acknowledged the definitional issues. With the growth of political importance of the evangelicals, researchers and evangelicals have come up with other subjective indicators to identify an evangelical. For example, historian Dr. Bebbington talks about the “quadrilateral of priorities” as the basis of evangelicalism. Joel Rainey, in his article on the identification of evangelicals, argues that, despite the negative press, the evangelicals are not all conservative, Republican fanatics that hate all immigrants, Muslims and LGBT. They are bearers of good news and for the advancement of civilization:

In a 1987 interview, Reverend Billy Graham—arguably the most prominent evangelical preacher of the twentieth century—was asked what an evangelical was. “Actually, that’s a question I’d like to ask somebody too,” Graham told religion reporter Terry Mattingly. “The lines [have] become blurred. . . . You go all the way from the extreme fundamentalists to the extreme liberals, and somewhere in between, there are the evangelicals.”

The Evangelical Movement
Evangelicalism began among Protestants in Great Britain in the 1730s. The movement spread as a result of a series of “Great Awakenings” during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

A plethora of new Christian denominations and new branches within existing denominations sprang up in the wake of these religious movements, each emphasizing spreading the gospel. These denominations tended toward fundamentalism and shared what University of Stirling historian David W. Bebbington calls the “quadrilateral of priorities”—the basis of evangelicalism:

• The need to be born again (a personal conversion)
• The supremacy of biblical authority
• Salvation through the death and resurrection of the Son of God
• Active sharing of the gospel through evangelism

Evangelical churches have historically tended to be Protestant, although evangelical movements occasionally spring up within Roman Catholicism and Anglicanism-Episcopalianism...

At heart, evangelicals are simply bearers of the good news of Jesus Christ. This news is that Jesus loved humanity enough to enter our world and do what was necessary to bring healing and understanding, and to offer the opportunity for a genuine relationship with him (see Who are evangelicals?).

The National Association of Evangelicals (America’s largest coalition of evangelicals, which was established in 1942 and claims to represent more than 45,000 local churches from around 40 different denominations and millions of Americans) agrees with Bebbington's  “quadrilateral of priorities” but crucially also gives four gives statements to which a person has to agree strongly to be designated as an evangelical. These four statements ignore the necessity of "born-again" experience:

The term “evangelical” comes from the Greek word euangelion, meaning “the good news” or the “gospel.” Thus, the evangelical faith focuses on the “good news” of salvation brought to sinners by Jesus Christ.

Evangelicals are a vibrant and diverse group, including believers found in many churches, denominations and nations. Our community brings together Reformed, Holiness, Anabaptist, Pentecostal, Charismatic and other traditions.

Our core theological convictions provide unity in the midst of our diversity. The NAE Statement of Faith offers a standard for these evangelical convictions.

Historian David Bebbington also provides a helpful summary of evangelical distinctives, identifying four primary characteristics of evangelicalism:

• Conversionism: the belief that lives need to be transformed through a “born-again” experience and a life long process of following Jesus

• Activism: the expression and demonstration of the gospel in missionary and social reform efforts

• Biblicism: a high regard for and obedience to the Bible as the ultimate authority

• Crucicentrism: a stress on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross as making possible the redemption of humanity

These distinctives and theological convictions define us — not political, social or cultural trends. In fact, many evangelicals rarely use the term “evangelical” to describe themselves, focusing simply on the core convictions of the triune God, the Bible, faith, Jesus, salvation, evangelism and discipleship.

Defining Evangelicals in Research
Evangelicals are a common subject of research, but often the outcomes of that research vary due to differences in the methods used to identify evangelicals. In response to that challenge the NAE and LifeWay Research developed a tool to provide a consistent standard for identification of evangelical belief.
The NAE/LifeWay Research method includes four statements to which respondents must strongly agree to be categorized as evangelical:

• The Bible is the highest authority for what I believe.

• It is very important for me personally to encourage non-Christians to trust Jesus Christ as their Savior.

• Jesus Christ’s death on the cross is the only sacrifice that could remove the penalty of my sin.

• Only those who trust in Jesus Christ alone as their Savior receive God’s free gift of eternal salvation. (see What is an Evangelical?)

Some feel that evangelicals may also be distinguished from other Christians, along with the “quadrilateral of priorities,” on the basis of eschatology. The evangelicals strongly believe in a particular description/type of the end-of-times:

Different from other denominations, the top five identifying beliefs of evangelical Christians are:

1. They point to a specific, personal conversion experience in which they are "born again" or "saved." According to PrayerFoundation.com, "individuals (above an age of accountability) must personally trust in Jesus Christ for salvation."

2. Evangelical Christians believe in the Bible as God's inspired Word to humankind, perfect in truth in the original text. It is the "final authority in all matters of doctrine and faith  — above all human authority," according to EvangelicalBeliefs.com.

3. Evangelicals believe the work of Jesus on the cross, through his death and resurrection, is the only source of salvation and forgiveness of sins. PrayerFoundation.com makes it clear that salvation is through faith alone. 

People can do nothing to earn their way to heaven. Instead, as EvangelicalBeliefs.com points out, believers do "good works in grateful response to our pardon, not to cause it."

4. Evangelical Christians are strongly motivated to share the gospel either one-on-one or through organized missions. Emphasis is placed on the Great Commission's call to share with the world the Christian message of salvation through Christ, and to "be publicly baptized as a confession of faith," according to PrayerFoundation.com.

5. Most, though not all, evangelicals believe there will be a rapture in the end times where the church will be "caught up with Christ before the Great Tribulation, leaving nonbelievers behind to suffer on Earth," states the Pew Research Center. This idea has gained attention through the "Left Behind" book series by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins, and the related movies. (see 5 Beliefs That Set Evangelicals Apart From Other Christians)

Barna Group, a conservative research group, has a nine-point criteria to identify an evangelical. In their surveys, they do not ask respondents whether they are born-again Christian or evangelical to identify them as evangelicals. The evangelicals, according to Barna Group are those who:

1. have made a personal commitment to Jesus Christ;
2. believe that when they die they will go to Heaven because they had confessed their sins and had accepted Jesus Christ as their savior;
3. believe that eternal salvation is possible only through grace, not works; 
4. say their faith is very important in their life today; 
5. believe they have a personal responsibility to share their religious beliefs about Christ with non-Christians;
6. believe that Satan exists; 
7. believe that Jesus Christ lived a sinless life on earth; 
8. assert that the Bible is accurate in all of its teachings; and 
9. describe God as the all-knowing, all-powerful, perfect deity who created the universe and still rules it today. (see Is Evangelism going out of style?)

So, in addition to quadrilateral of priorities, to be an evangelical, one also has to believe in a perfect God, the existence of Satan, and Christ's sinless life on earth.

The above discussion on the definition of evangelical prioritizes their identification on the basis of religious beliefs, not on the basis of their political orientations. But the self-identified evangelicals vote as a group on numerous salient political issues. What should be given importance, religious beliefs or political attitude? Since the term "evangelical" started as a religious term, one could argue that religious beliefs should be given more importance and some evangelicals are trying to do that:

For some Christian conservatives, the political behavior described by journalists and political pollsters misses the essence of true, church-going evangelicalism. As Russell Moore, president of the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention, the nation’s largest evangelical Protestant denomination, said last year: “Secular people have for a long time misunderstood the meaning of ‘evangelical,’ seeing us almost exclusively in terms of election-year voting blocs or our most buffoonish television personalities” – including many of those who comprise Trump’s evangelical advisory board.

“Part of the problem with the political identity of evangelicals is that typically the questions that pollsters ask are, ‘Are you a born-again or evangelical Christian?’ ” says Marsden, “and you have all sorts of people who say, ‘I guess so.’ ”

“That makes it seem that groups of Evangelicals are bigger than they actually are,” says Marsden. “And it also invites all sorts of people who aren’t very deeply religious to say that they are in this cultural group.”

With a more ethnically diverse and theologically-focused definition of evangelicalism, the movement may not seem so politically uniform, scholars suggest.

“The crisis over the ‘evangelical’ label is a crisis for the 20 percent of white Evangelicals who did not vote for Donald J. Trump, as well as the lion’s share of nonwhite Evangelicals,” says Professor Schmalzbauer. “White Evangelicals who sympathize with Trump’s rhetorical defense of white Christian America and his religious nationalism are not worried about the future of the evangelical brand.”

“The soul searching and agonizing is among moderate to progressive Evangelicals, Latino and Asian-American Evangelicals, and evangelical scholars – especially those who do not ‘pray Republican’ or who reject the Trump takeover of the Republican Party,” he continues. (see In Trump era, what does it mean to be an 'Evangelical'?)

Source: In Trump era, what does it mean to be an 'Evangelical'?

However, politically and socially, a religiously-focused definition (instead of one-question self-identification) is problematic as it casts millions of American who call themselves evangelicals and have social and political attitudes similar to most religiously-defined evangelicals out of the group. What should the non-evangelical group that always votes with the evangelicals be called? It makes sense to study groups of people which vote in the same way and have similar political convictions as a group. Shouldn't the evangelical term be used to identify a political group instead of a religious group as most of the people who self-identify as evangelical are politically similar, but may not be religiously similar? Furthermore, the meaning of evangelical has changed over the last four centuries, so it can change again.

Many evangelicals, who usually vote for the Democratic Party and for socially liberal policies, are unhappy with the current usage of the term but have resigned to the fact that political realities will triumph doctrinal issues and have stopped identifying themselves as evangelicals. 

Colin Kaepernick and Tim Tebow: Two faces of American Christianity & Nationalism

Michael Frost, a popular speaker, and writer from Sydney has written a very interesting article titled Colin Kaepernick vs. Tim Tebow: A tale of two Christians on their knees. He compares two American football quarterbacks. Both are devout and make a public display of their religion. However, they are most famous for kneeling on the ground. Describing Tim Tebow, Michael writes:

Tebow was home-schooled by his Christian parents, and spent his summers in the Philippines, helping with his father's orphanage and missionary work.

During his college football career, the Heisman Trophy winner frequently wore references to Bible verses on his eye black, including the ubiquitous John 3:16 during the 2009 BCS Championship Game.

He has been outspoken about his pro-life stance, and his commitment to abstinence from sex before marriage. He is a prominent member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, an organization that insists that leaders sign a Statement of Sexual Purity, stating that sex outside marriage is unacceptable to God. He has preached in churches, prisons, schools, youth groups and a welter of evangelical conferences.

And he is well known for his signature move — dropping to one knee on the field, his head bowed in prayer, his arm resting on his bent knee — known throughout the world as Tebowing.

Then, Michael writes about Colin Kaepernick:

Kaepernick, until recently the quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers, was born to a 19-year-old, single, white woman. His black father had left the picture before Colin was born. His mother was destitute and gave him up for adoption. He was raised by the Kaepernicks, a white couple from Milwaukee. 

His body is festooned with religious tattoos, including depictions of scrolls, a cross, praying hands, angels defeating demons, terms like "To God be the Glory," "Heaven Sent," "God will guide me," Psalm 18:39 and Psalm 27:3.

And Kaepernick's faith isn't just about making him feel happy. It's turned him into an activist and philanthropist. During the offseason Kaepernick launched a GoFundMe page to fly food and water into suffering Somalia. It surpassed its $2 million goal in just four days. In March, the plane loaded with essential supplies landed in Mogadishu.

He had already pledged to donate $1 million, along with the proceeds of his jersey sales from the 2016 season, to charitable work. This year, Meals on Wheels announced it had received $50,000 from Kaepernick...

But we all know why Colin Kaepernick is most famous.

Beginning in 2016, he refused to stand to attention during the playing of the American national anthem. Kaepernick decided to either remain seated or kneel during renditions of the Star Spangled Banner in support of Black Lives Matter and to protest police violence against black people.

While Tim is loved by religious Americans, few have a negative opinion about his kneeling. Colin, however, is hated by many and recently President Trump decided to show what he thinks of Colin's kneeling (See Donald Trump versus the NFL, explained). Why Tim is loved by many, while Colin is hated by many? Colin was voted as the most hated player in the NFL.

Michael has presented this as a division of Christianity or battle between two types of Christianity:

It seems to me that Tim Tebow and Colin Kaepernick represent the two very different forms that American Christianity has come to.
And not just in the United States. In many parts of the world, it feels as though the church is separating into two versions, one that values personal piety, gentleness, respect for cultural mores, and an emphasis on moral issues like abortion and homosexuality, and another that values social justice, community development, racial reconciliation, and political activism.
One version is kneeling in private prayer. The other is kneeling in public protest. One is concerned with private sins like abortion. The other is concerned with public sins like racial discrimination.
One preaches a gospel of personal salvation. The other preaches a gospel of political and social transformation...One is listening to Eric Metaxas and Franklin Graham. The other is listening to William Barber and John Perkins.

Source: Tim Tebow Prefers Colin Kaepernick Would Protest 'The Right Way'

For me, it also tells one about two visions of America. What kind of nation Americans want? One vision is inclusive and wants to include all Americans irrespective of their color or religion. It is ready to accept current racial discrimination and talk about the horrible past. The other vision either denies current and past injustices or simply do not want to talk about them. One vision harks back to white nationalism and good old days when people of color knew their place. The other harks back to the ideals on which America was founded, the ideals written in the declaration of independence. 

As Michael argues both these visions of nations have an element of religion in them. Both these visions take their inspiration from the Bible. However, most of the Americans who claim to be religious appear to support only one of those visions. The religious nationalism that Trump supports or many Republicans support is also based on one of those visions. 

Is "Trumpism" a new kind of nationalism?

Baylor University released the results of the fifth wave of the Baylor Religion Survey in September 2017 (See American Values, Mental Health and Using Technology in the Age of Trump). It is one of the most extensive surveys that is regularly conducted on religious attitudes in the United States. Around 11000 adults, chosen randomly from a stratified sample, were asked to respond to the survey and the 1501 complete responses were used for the analysis. 

The survey was conducted in the first few months of Donald Trump's presidency and, besides regular concerns, the survey focused on Trump voters. The survey found that people who voted for Trump in November 2016 generally believed:

• Themselves to be "very religious;"
• That the US is or was a Christian nation; 
• Muslims are a threat to America;
• In gender traditionalism; 
• In an Authoritative God. (p-6 of the Baylor Religion Survey (BRS) report)

From this information, the report writers conclude that a new form of nationalism is visible:

This collection of values and attitudes form the core ethos of what we might call Trumpism. It is a new form of nationalism which merges pro-Christian rhetoric with anti-Islam, anti-feminist, anti-globalist, and anti-government attitudes. (p-7 of the BRS report)

Is "Trumpism" a new kind of nationalism? Trumpism is a new phenomenon and journalists, analysts and academics are still trying to understand it and see where it fits in the political firmament.  Some are calling it a new type of conservatism and the biggest transformation of the conservative movement since the 1960s (See Is Trumpism the New Conservatism?), others tussle with the issue and argue that Trump is not a true conservative but he believes in true conservatism and is governing or will govern like a true conservative i.e. there will be no new type of conservatism as Trumpism will soon merge in the mainstream conservative movement (See Is Donald Trump a conservative? We asked the CPAC faithful).

So, again, is Trumpism a new kind of nationalism? The characteristics of Trump voters identified above give us a clue.

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

First, survey analysis shows that most of the Trump voters consider themselves to be very religious. Religion is important for them and many of them are evangelical Christians. 

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Second, generally, Trump voters believe that America was or still is a Christian nation. The survey statistics show that almost 60% of Americans believe that American is or was a Christian nation, a sign of the overall strength of religious nationalism in the US. 

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Most of the those who believed in Christian nationalism voted overwhelmingly for Trump in 2016. The report also acknowledges the strength of religious/Christian nationalism in the US and its association with Trumpism but did not call Trumpism a type of religious nationalism.

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

The BRS survey results also showed that Republicans generally subscribe more to religious/Christian nationalism than independents or Democrats. This survey result can be interpreted as indicating that Trumpism is not much different from the mainstream Republican Party that is currently moving closer to Christian nationalism. 

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

The third characteristic of the Trump voters, based on BRS survey results, was their Islamophobia or fear of Muslims. Generally, Americans feel threatened by both Muslims and conservative Christians. However, most conservative Christians, who voted for Trump, fear Muslims more than any group. 

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Fear of other religions or "othering" of religions that are different from one's own is a characteristic of religious nationalists. Clearly, if one feels one's religion is the basis of nationalism, then people who do not believe in one's religion cannot be part of one's nation even if they live next door and speak the same language. The following graph demonstrates that people who believe that America was or is a Christian nation consider refugees from the Middle East, who are almost all Muslims, a terrorist threat.

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

The fourth characteristic of Trump voters is gender traditionalism i.e. men and women have different roles in life. Gender traditionalism is also associated with the belief that marriage is between a man and a woman. These characteristics are also associated with Christian nationalism in the US.
Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

These characteristics are associated with religious nationalism worldwide. In fact, religious nationalists belonging to different traditions (Christian, Jewish, Hinduism, Islamic, etc.), though bitter enemies of each other, agree on this issue.

Finally, Trump voters generally believe in an "authoritative God." The concept of authoritative God was given by Baylor University professors Paul Froese and Christopher Bader in their book,  America's Four Gods: What We Say about God — & what that Says about Us, published in 2010. Matt Young explains the thesis of the book and the four types of God.

The thesis of the book is, in essence, that classifying people according to their religious denomination (or lack thereof) tells you little about, for example, their politics or their views on science. Instead, Froese and Bader classify people according to the kind of God they believe in: authoritative, benevolent, critical, and distant (not to mention none).
Froese and Bader pose 2 questions, “To what extent does God interact with the world? To what extent does God judge the world?” As a result of interviews and surveys, they conclude that

Americans differ radically in their beliefs about how closely God guides and judges their lives. These two dynamic dimensions of belief reveal four distinct images of God:

1. The Authoritative God—one who is both engaged and judgmental [31%]
2. The Benevolent God—one who is engaged but not judgmental [24%]
3. The Critical God—one who is not engaged but judgmental [16%]
4. The Distant God—one who is not engaged or judgmental [24%]
[5. Atheist [5%]]

But most important, do these different Gods matter? Unequivocally, yes. A person’s God is a direct reflection of his level of moral absolutism, his view of science, his understanding of economic justice, his concept of evil, and how he thinks we should respond to it. And these powerful relationships exist regardless of where he lives, the color of his skin, the amount of money he makes, how many years he has spend [sic] in school, or the church he attends.

Simply put, America’s four Gods lie at the heart of our moral, cultural, and political disagreements. (See America's Four Gods)

Froese and Bader argue that belief in a specific type of Church (or religion) is not a sure prediction of belief in a specific type of God. However, there is some statistical association, for instance, between belief in a distant God and belonging to "nones."

Coming back to Trumpism, most of the Trump voters believe in an authoritative God and those who believe in an authoritative God are more likely to be religious nationalists. Survey results revealed that those believe in an authoritarian God are more likely to want the declaration of the US as a Christian nation and are not likely to favor the strict enforcement of separation of church and state.

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Source: BRS Wave 5, 2017

Is Trumpism a new type of nationalism, then? The above discussion indicates that of the five characteristics of Trumpism identified by the BRS Wave 5, at least four are also the characteristics of religious nationalism. So, Trumpism does not appear to be a new type of nationalism.