Emperor and Saint Constantine: From Paganism to Christianity

A few days back, we discussed how Christianity, in one century, traveled the distance and became a state religion from a persecuted cult (Christianity: From a Persecuted Cult to the State Religion). Now, we discuss the central figure of this story: Constantine the Great.

Emperor Constantine is a very interesting figure, He is called Constantine, the great, for his unifying of the Roman Empire, for being the first Roman Emperor to convert to Christianity and giving Christianity the role of state religion, and for his many other administrative and military reforms. He was also the first ruler to commission churches in the Holy Land and founded the great city of Constantinople (currently Istanbul). He convened and presided over the first ecumenical council in Nicaea (currently İznik, Turkey), although he was not yet baptized. The council of bishops was convened in 325 AD. The council agreed on the Nicene Creed (a summary of the proper Christian faith) that declared the divinity of Christ and that God the Father and God the Son are one being, thereby rejecting the idea that there was once a time when God the Father existed but God the Son did not. The Nicene Creed is one of the most important creeds in Christianity. For all his achievements in Christianity, he is considered a saint by Orthodox and Roman Catholic Christians. In fact, the Eastern Orthodox Church considers him isapóstolos (equal to the Apostles), a rank bestowed only on a few saints, and called the "thirteenth apostle."

Father Bill Olnhausen is the Pastor Emeritus of Saint Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church in Cedarburg, Wisconsin. Following are some excerpts from his blog post, from September 2019, about Emperor Constantine (the whole blog post The Story of Saint Constantine the Great can be accessed):

Was Constantine an ascetic? No. Was he a brilliant theologian? No. Was his moral life exemplary? Not always, by any means. Was he a miracle worker? No. Was he even a Christian? Not formally, until he was finally baptized almost on his deathbed. So why does the Church call him a saint? Read on... 

Constantine was ambitious. His goal was to reunite the Roman empire under himself. Maxentius was then emperor in Italy. Constantine and his army marched south [from Gaul (France)], prepared to meet his far superior forces. While crossing the Alps Constantine had a strange and transformative experience. This was the story he told ever after: In the morning sky he saw (some accounts say others saw it with him) a shining cross with the words “In this sign conquer”. Some say it was in Greek “En touto nika”, others that it was Latin “In hoc signum vincit”...  

At the time Constantine was still a pagan who seems to have worshipped the sun as the high god. But he must also have had Christian sympathies, perhaps because of his mother, for he had Christian priests accompanying his army, and they explained the vision to him. So he had the Chi-Rho painted on his army’s banners. One of the banners was kept in Constantinople for many centuries. (Probably it was destroyed by the Crusaders, along with many other things including the future of the Byzantine Empire.) The armies met at the Milvian Bridge on the River Tiber outside Rome, and Maxentius was defeated. It was October in the year 312. 

Constantine's vision of a shinning cross (by Italian renaissance artist Raphael)

 Source: The Story of Saint Constantine the Great 

Constantine was now Augustus, sole emperor of the west, but he was not like other emperors. When he marched into Rome, he did not make the customary reprisals against the vanquished. More significantly, he boldly refused to make the customary sacrifices to the Roman gods. This was dangerously “politically incorrect”, for the Roman elite were chiefly pagan. Even though Christians were highly suspect, one of his first acts was to forbid the persecution of Christians. His famous Edict of Milan, made in the year 313 jointly with Licinius, the new emperor of the east, declared tolerance for all religions. And from the beginning Constantine gave special privileges to the Church. He ruled that the Church could again own property and directed the return of seized property. He ordered the return of Christian exiles. He decreed that the Christian Lord’s Day (“Kyriake” in Greek), the day of Christ’s resurrection, be the imperial weekly holiday. (“Sunday” is a pagan name for the first day of the week.)... 

Constantine soon decided to reunite the empire under himself and under the Christian God. He and his army moved east. In May 324 the combined armies numbering over 300,000 men met outside the Greek city of Adrianopolis. (In those days wars were usually fought outside cities and did not normally involve civilians. May we please go back to the old days?) Licinius was defeated and fled and finally surrendered that September. Constantine was now sole emperor, east and west. 

Now the empire was united under the Christian God. However, to Constantine’s great frustration, Christians were not united. Far from it, there was bitter division between the Orthodox and the Arians, who denied the divinity of Christ – or it may be they just misunderstood the meaning of divinity. So one of Constantine’s first acts, the next spring, was to call a Council of Christian bishops in Nicaea, a city on the west coast of Asia Minor, to try to unite the Church. It is said 318 bishops attended. This became known as the First Ecumenical Council. Constantine himself presided and gave great honor to those who had been injured during the persecutions. It is not clear whether Constantine understood the theological issue. Above all he wanted unity. Among the bishops at the Council, at least, he got it. After some early contention, the final vote was 316 (probably) to 2 against Arius and for the Orthodox.  

All this time Constantine had never been baptized. Historians wonder why. Some people at the time (mistakenly) delayed Baptism till late in life, lest they fall into major sin after the Washing. Even the great Saint Basil, raised in a profoundly Christian family, was not baptized till he was an adult. Or maybe Constantine delayed for political reasons, not wanting to entirely abandon the pagans, so he could be emperor “to all the people”. He never explained. But early in the year 337 he fell ill and quickly was baptized. It is said he abandoned his imperial garments and wore only his white baptismal robe for the rest of his life, which was not long. He died on Pentecost, May 21, 337, and ever since on this day the Church has honored him and his mother.

Emperor Constantine thus became Saint Constantine. Was he a true believer? Maybe. He certainly made Christianity the preferred religion of his Empire, baptized, and united Christians. And Rome and Christianity were never separated after him.

Christianity: From a Persecuted Cult to the State Religion

Michael Kulikowski has written a brief article for aeon.com on how Christianity transformed from a cult to a state religion in one century. At the start of the 4th century, Christians were hiding in dark corners to save themselves from the Roman officials but, at the end of it, they were advising the King and planning to use the state's power against the non-believers. The Third Century Crisis heralded the advent of a great age.

Michael Kulikowski is a professor of history and classics at Pennsylvania State University and the author of Late Roman Spain and Its Cities (2004) and Rome’s Gothic Wars from the Third Century to Alaric (2007). His most recent book is The Triumph of Empire: The Roman World From Hadrian to Constantine (2016) a small part of which is summarized in the aeon.com article, "Christians were strangers: How an obscure oriental cult in a corner of Roman Palestine grew to become the dominant religion of the Western world."

Some excerpts from the article are reproduced below:

The Roman empire became Christian during the fourth century CE. At the century’s start, Christians were – at most – a substantial minority of the population. By its end, Christians (or nominal Christians) indisputably constituted a majority in the empire. Tellingly, at the beginning of the century, the imperial government launched the only sustained and concerted effort to suppress Christianity in ancient history – and yet by the century’s end, the emperors themselves were Christians, Christianity enjoyed exclusive support from the state and was, in principle, the only religion the state permitted... 

That a world religion should have emerged from an oriental cult in a tiny and peculiar corner of Roman Palestine is nothing short of extraordinary. Jesus of Nazareth was a Jew, though an eccentric one, and here the concern is not what the historical Jesus did or did not believe. We know that he was executed for disturbing the Roman peace during the reign of the emperor Tiberius, and that some of his followers then decided that Jesus was not merely another regular prophet, common in the region. Rather, he was the son of the one true god, and he had died to bring salvation to those who would follow him. 

Paul was a Christian, perhaps indeed the first Christian, but he was also a Roman. That was new. Even if the occasional Jew gained Roman citizenship, Jews weren’t Romans. As a religion, Judaism was ethnic, which gave Jews some privileged exemptions unavailable to any other Roman subjects, but it also meant they were perpetually aliens. In contrast, Christianity was not ethnic. Although Christian leaders were intent on separating themselves physically and ideologically from the Jewish communities out of which they’d grown, they also accepted newcomers to their congregations without regard for ethnic origin or social class. In the socially stratified world of antiquity, the egalitarianism of Christianity was unusual and, to many, appealing... 

By the third century, Christian communities had grown. One would have been hard-pressed to find even a modest town without a Christian household or three. From a fringe movement, Christianity had become a central fact of urban life. Yet the religion’s normalisation made it suddenly vulnerable in the middle of the third century, when – thanks to dynastic instability, epidemic disease and military incompetence ­– imperial government went into a potentially terminal decline. 

The years between 260 and 300 offered little reprieve to those who wanted to become emperor and govern, but they did amount to the first golden age for Roman Christians. Although it is likely that we’ll never have sufficient evidence to tell just how many Christians there were at any one time, or just how fast the religion spread, we can say for certain that Christian numbers grew dramatically. By the 290s, there were Christians in the senate, at court, and even in the families of emperors. 

Towards the end of the third century, an emperor named Diocletian (r. 284-305) had finally proved able to stabilise imperial government after 50 years of regime change and violence. In 293, he established a college of four emperors, all senior generals unrelated to one another except by marriage. The idea was to ensure that one emperor would always be on hand to deal with any outbreak of violence and to prevent rebellion or civil war. Diocletian intended for himself and his senior colleague to retire, after which their junior partners would bring two new emperors into the imperial college to replace them. The goal was to ensure a handover of power at a convenient and peaceful moment so that the framework of government would remain undisturbed. But Diocletian’s intentions were thwarted by rivalries, in which Christianity played an important role. 

That is where things foundered: only two of Diocletian’s emperors had adult sons, and everyone expected them to join the college of four emperors when the two senior emperors retired. But the childless emperor Galerius was a ferocious anti-Christian, while his colleague Constantius – who had a son – was known to be sympathetic to Christians. In fact, Constantius even had Christians among his family and household, and that fact gave Galerius an opening to revise the succession plans in his own favour. By targeting Christians for renewed persecution, Galerius would damage Constantius and exclude his son from the succession. He could enhance his own power, and also gratify his hatred of Christianity. 

Galerius convinced Diocletian that Christians were to blame for a series of calamities, including a mysterious fire in the palace and the silencing of famous oracles. Thus, in the year 303, the emperors began what we call the Great Persecution. The campaign against the Christians was bitterly violent in Africa and the eastern Mediterranean, more benign in the lands that Constantius controlled in the West. But it produced many heroic martyrdoms and appalling suffering among Christian communities, and left scars that would linger for centuries. The Great Persecution ultimately failed to expunge Christianity from the face of the earth. Christians were simply too numerous, and many were too stubborn to be turned away from their beliefs. Even Galerius, the most committed of persecutors, came to accept the failure of his plans, and in 311 issued an edict of toleration. By 313, persecution had ceased. 

In the meantime, in 306, Constantius’s son Constantine had succeeded his father in the imperial college. Within five years, Constantine had made himself master of the western Roman empire and openly embraced Christianity. Always sympathetic to Christians, he claimed to have had a divine vision that helped lead his troops, flying Christian symbols on their standards, to victory in civil war in 312. The most reductionist reading of the evidence would say that, in 310, Constantine saw a solar halo, a rare but well-documented celestial phenomenon, in the south of France and in the company of his army, but Constantine’s account of events changed over the years and we can’t be sure. We can say with greater certainty that for several years he wavered between Christian and non-Christian interpretations of the sign. He eventually decided, to the delight of the Christian leaders in his entourage, that he had been sent a sign by the Christian God. He became a Christian, as a matter of belief and perhaps policy too. 

A fictional depiction of Constantius appointing his son, Constantine, as his successor
by Peter Paul Rubens, 1622

We will never know for sure what Constantine’s true motives were in converting to Christianity. What is certain, however, is that from the moment he had sole power in the West, he ruled as a Christian. He restored Christian property seized during the Great Persecution and enacted legislation that favoured Christians. When he became sole ruler of the empire in 324, he extended similarly pro-Christian policies to the eastern empire, where he not only favoured Christians, but actively discriminated against non-Christians, restricting their ability to worship or fund their temples. 

Even more momentously, though, Constantine intervened personally in conflicts among Christians over questions of discipline and right belief. In North Africa, Egypt and other parts of the Greek East, problems arose over such things as how to treat Christians who had cooperated with the authorities during persecution (the traditores, ‘handers-over’ of Christian holy books), or the correct relationship between God the Father and God the Son. Such disputes mattered, not least because Christians who believed the wrong thing would forfeit eternal life – or worse, ensure their own eternal damnation. Right belief, by contrast, opened the path to eternal salvation. 

By placing the authority of the Roman state and the imperial office to police and enforce right belief, Constantine created a model that would have a long and ambiguous history. Councils of bishops, ostensibly informed by the Holy Spirit, would henceforth define what was orthodox. Those who chose to believe otherwise would find themselves branded heretics, and excluded from the communion of orthodox Christians. Bishops and theologians would find an almost limitless number of problems to debate – over the relationship of God the Father and God the Son, over the divine nature of Jesus, over what that meant for the status of his mother, and so on. Each solution opened up a whole new set of problems.

According to Michael Kulikowski, "We will never know for sure what Constantine’s true motives were in converting to Christianity. What is certain, however, is that from the moment he had sole power in the West, he ruled as a Christian." Constantine truly ruled as a Christian -- not as medieval Christian kings and emperors who thought it was their duty as Christian kings to persecute non-Christians -- as he did not persecute pagans and allowed them to practice their religion freely. According to an article in Encyclopedia Britannica, his commitment to Christianity was constantly balanced by his concern for the stability of his empire and ancient Roman (pagan) traditions:

Some of the ambiguities in Constantine’s public policies were therefore exacted by the respect due to established practice and by the difficulties of expressing, as well as of making, total changes suddenly. The suppression of paganism, by law and by the sporadic destruction of pagan shrines, is balanced by particular acts of deference. A town in Asia Minor mentioned the unanimous Christianity of its inhabitants in support of a petition to the emperor; while, on the other hand, one in Italy was allowed to hold a local festival incorporating gladiatorial games and to found a shrine of the imperial dynasty—although direct religious observance there was firmly forbidden. In an early law of Constantine, priests and public soothsayers of Rome were prohibited entry to private houses; but another law, of 320 or 321, calls for their recital of prayer “in the manner of ancient observance” if the imperial palace or any other public building were struck by lightning. Traditional country magic was tolerated by Constantine. Classical culture and education, which were intimately linked with paganism, continued to enjoy enormous prestige and influence; provincial priesthoods, which were as intimately linked with civic life, long survived the reign of Constantine. Constantinople itself was predominantly a Christian city, its dedication celebrated by Christian services; yet its foundation was also attended by a well-known pagan seer, Sopatros.

Saint Constantine's feast day is observed on March 21, both by Orthodox and Catholic Christians, and he is a revered figure in many Protestant churches.

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.

Who are Wahhabis? What is Wahhabism? Is it different from Salafism?

Wahhabism is something controversial. Many of Wahhabis do not even like to be called Wahhabis as this term was initially used as an insult by the Wahhabi movement enemies. The following seminar video explains the different terms and the history of Wahhabism well in less than 40 minutes. 

The seminar was delivered by Dr. Cole Bunzel from Yale University at the Centre for Islamic and Middle East Studies (CIMS), Oslo University, Norway. The lecture was titled “Classical Wahhabism and Its Modern Revival” and was based on Dr. Cole's dissertation and forthcoming book. It took place at the University of Oslo on October 17, 2018

Here is an introduction about Cole from CIMS webpage:

Cole Bunzel is a postdoctoral research fellow in Islamic Law and Civilization at the Yale Law School, where his work focuses on the history of Wahhabism and the Jihadi Salafi movement in modern Islam. In 2017, he received the Porter Ogden Jacobus Fellowship, Princeton University’s top honor for graduate students. He is the editor of the blog Jihadica.

Cole talks about:

• What is Wahhabism?
• What are the two forms of Tawhid (monotheism) defined by ibn-Taymiyyah and how they were used to kill Muslims?
• What are the two types of Wahhabism?
• How Classical Wahhabism (from the 1740s to 1920s) is different from the Modern Wahhabism (after 1920s)?
• The three Saudi states (1740s-1818, 1823- 1891, 1902 - present)
• What was jihad in Classical Wahhabism? Hatred is not enough, show enmity, later violence
• How King Abdul Aziz tamed Wahhabis, reinterpreted doctrines of Al-Shiekh and entered into a settlement with Sunni Islam and the larger world?
• The revival of Classical Wahhabism under Al-Qaida and the Daesh (the ISIS)

Saudi Grand Mufti Sheikh Abdul Aziz al-Sheikh 

Source: Islamic Societies Review

The seminar video can be watched here

Wahhabism is often confused with Salafism as Wahhabis call themselves Salafis or Al-Muwahhidun (or monotheists). Following a commentary from S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Singapore on the differences between Wahhabism and Salafism:

The terms Salafi and Wahhabi are often used interchangeably. Many confuse the two while others refer to them as one. What are the differences between the two? 

The study of modern Salafism will not be complete without looking into Wahhabism – a reference to the teachings of Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab and its relation to Salafism. In the current discourse on Islam, the term “Salafi” and “Wahhabi” are often used interchangeably. Many confuse the two while others refer to them as one.

Wahhabi is a label given to those who follow the teachings of Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab. The Wahhabis are always referred to as Salafis, and in fact they prefer to be called as such. As a rule, all Wahhabis are Salafis but not all Salafis are Wahhabis. The term Salafism did not become associated with the Wahhabi creed until the 1970s. It was in the early 20th century that the Wahhabis referred to themselves as Salafis. 

Who is a Salafi? 

The usage of the term Salafi today refers to those who embrace Salafism (Arabic: Salafiyyah). Salafiyyah is known to be the manhaj or way of the Salafis. The Salafis are Muslims who advocate literal and to some degree binary interpretation of Islamic teachings as enjoined by Prophet Muhammad and subsequently practised by the early pious predecessors known as the salaf al-salih. Following the salaf is the reason for their self-designation as Salafis. 

Linguistically, the term salafi is an ascription to the salaf. A Salafi is one who ascribes himself/herself to the way and teachings of the salaf. From the linguistic standpoint, if someone says, for example “ana Britani” (I am British), it means he comes from Britain or ascribing himself to Britain. 

The letter ‘i’ at the end of the word (e.g. Britani, Salafi) shows that the person saying the word is associating himself to the word. Hence, when a person says “I am a Salafi”, he is saying that he ascribes himself to the way/teachings of the salaf. 

Who is a Wahhabi? 

A Wahhabi is one who follows Wahhabism (Arabic: Wahhabiyyah) or the teachings of Muhammad Bin Abdul Wahhab. Ibn Abd al-Wahhab was born in Najd in 1703 in Uyainah, in present-day Saudi Arabia. He grew up in an atmosphere where there was widespread deterioration in the Muslim beliefs and practices. 

Many Muslims had fallen into acts considered shirk (associating Allah with others), and returned to the days of jahiliyyah (ignorance or pre-Islamic period). Ibn Abd al-Wahhab sought to reform the Muslims under the banner of “true” Islam and get rid of these acts which he considered heretical. 

Wahhabis do not prefer the term Wahhabiyyah or being called as Wahhabis. They prefer to be called Al-Muwahhidun (the people of monotheism) or Salafiyyun (the Salafis) in reference to the pious predecessors (salaf al-salih). But over time Ibn Abd al-Wahhab followers prefer the more generic term salafiyyun which signifies adherence to the faith and practices of the Prophet and the first three generations of Muslims. 

Unlike “Salafi” which is both a label and self-designated term, the term “Wahhabi” is a label given to the followers of the teachings of Ibn Abd al-Wahhab, from whose name the term “Wahhabi” originates. Wahhabism simply means the way of Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab which also denotes his ideology. Hence, linguistically, a Wahhabi is one who subscribes to Wahhabism. 

The main reason why Wahhabis have rejected the term Wahhabism is because it provides the impression that the teachings propagated by Ibn Abd al-Wahhab is a new doctrine or belief within the Islamic faith, whereas they believe that it is merely a reflection and an extension of the teachings of the Prophet, his companions and the salaf al-salih. 

Due to the importance of following the footsteps of the salaf, Wahhabism has always been a form of Salafism. It subscribes to the methodology of the salaf in theology and law. In fact, the teaching spreads in the modern Muslim world under the banner of Salafism instead of Wahhabism. As Khaled Abou El-Fadl, a professor of Islamic law from the US observes, “the attachment of Wahhabism to Salafism was indeed needed as Salafism was a much more ‘credible paradigm in Islam’; making it an ideal medium for Wahhabism”. 

Ideology of Salafism and Wahhabism 

The ideology of Salafism and Wahhabism is built upon a narrowly defined religious text. Methodologically, they are literalist and puritanical in their approaches to Islamic theology and law. 

In matters of jurisprudence, Salafis and Wahabbis subscribe to the Hanbali mazhab (school of thought) and law. However, many of them claim no specific affiliation to any particular mazhab. Instead, they claim to follow the stronger opinion among the Salaf based on the Quran and the Sunnah (the Prophet’s Traditions). 

But one who studies their views in jurisprudence will find their origins in the Hanbali school of fiqh. Even Ibn Taimiyah, a famous Islamic theologian in the medieval period and his student, Ibn Qayyim, the two scholars most referred to by the Salafis and Wahhabis, adopted the methodology of the Hanbali school. 

To maintain the purity of Islam, Salafis and Wahhabis attempt to combat what they view as deviant and heretical practices such as offering prayers at tombs, glorifying ‘holy places’ and ‘saints’. Such are classified as shirk, kufr (infidelity), riddah (apostasy), and bid’ah (innovation). They strongly reject any belief and practices that are not enjoined by the Quran and the Prophet. 

For example, Salafis and Wahhabis claim that Sufi practices such as tawassul (intercession between man and God) which had accrued over the centuries since the pristine period of Islam threatens tawhid (monotheism or the belief in the oneness of God). They believe that bid’ah resulted from the adoption of local cultures by Islamic missionaries in their attempts to attract new converts. However, this blend of Islam and customs helped significantly the conversion process to Islam by making it accessible to wider audiences. 

Ideologically, Salafism is wider than Wahhabism. Salafi thought has existed for hundreds of years and has spread throughout the Muslim world and beyond. Wahhabism only existed from the mid 18th century. While it is true that Wahhabism is Salafism, it is only one of Salafism’s many orientations. Salafi and Wahhabi are not two sides of the same coin. 

About the Authors
Mohamed Bin Ali is Assistant Professor and Muhammad Saiful Alam Shah Bin Sudiman is Associate Research Fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University Singapore. Both studied at Al-Azhar University in Cairo and are counsellors with the Religious Rehabilitation Group (RRG).

In 2016, Cole Bunzel has written about the contest between the third Wahhabi state (Saudi Arabia) and what he calls the fourth Wahhabi state (ISIS) for Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Following are the conclusions. The whole paper can be read here.

The Islamic State, which draws on the teachings of the Wahhabi school of Islam, finds inspiration in the example of the first Saudi-Wahhabi state (1744–1818), which engaged in expansionary jihad and cultivated a sectarian animus toward the Shia.

The Islamic State has declared three so-called provinces in Saudi Arabia and carried out some fifteen attacks there since November 2014.

The Islamic State’s rise has reignited a debate in Saudi Arabia over the intolerant and aggressive nature of Wahhabism. Liberals have called for a revisionist movement, as they describe it, to expunge certain doctrines from Wahhabism.

In some ways the Islamic State’s claim to the Wahhabi heritage is not unfounded. The early Wahhabis advanced an exclusivist version of Sunni Islam that was universally seen as a heresy, founded a state that waged expansionary jihad against fellow Sunni Muslims, and killed Shia Muslims because they were seen as hopeless idolaters. The Islamic State has done the same on all three counts.

Other features of the Islamic State’s ideology—from the declaration of a caliphate to the use of extraordinary violence to the group’s apocalyptic fervor—do not find a mainstream Wahhabi precedent.

The Islamic State’s campaign in Saudi Arabia has slowed considerably since October 2015. Despite concerted propaganda efforts, the group appears to be making little headway against a state outfitted with one of the most advanced counterterrorism infrastructures in the world. But given the substantial Islamic State following in Saudi Arabia, more attacks, however occasional, can be expected.

Saudi Arabia is a long way from pursuing meaningful reforms of Wahhabi doctrine. Saudi liberals’ criticism of Wahhabism is tolerated as of early 2016 more than ever before, despite the kingdom’s religious scholars who would prefer the government silence them. But the new political leadership is busy consolidating power, while the religious leadership is defensive and mired in conspiracy theories.

Who is who and who is in bed with whom in Israeli elections in September

Israel had Knesset elections in April but no party could form a government when Yisrael Beiteinu's leader Avigdor Lieberman, who was once a close lieutenant of Netanyahu, insisted that more ultra-Orthodox men have to do the compulsory military service. It meant either Yisrael Beiteinu or the two ultra-Orthodox parties (Shas and United Torah Judaism) could be part of the ruling coalition and this made it impossible for Bibi to form a government. This also meant the plan of Bibi to legislate immunity for himself from corruption charges would have to be deferred. If Bibi is the King of Israel, Lieberman has become the kingmaker (See  How Israel’s ‘kingmaker’ could be the man to end Bibi’s reign). Bibi has done Lieberman but Yisrael Beiteinu's seats are expected to double from April in the coming September elections (from five to ten), making him even more important.

Meanwhile, Israel is steadily moving rightward, more nationalistic and more religious as compared to 2015 Knesset elections (See  Israel's Political Map Has Shifted Rightward – and That’s Bad News for Netanyahu) 

Source: Israel's Political Map Has Shifted Rightward – and That’s Bad News for Netanyahu)

Allison Kaplan Sommer in Haaretz explains the major parties/coalitions that are fighting the September elections (See Israel’s Do-over Election: A Guide to All the Parties and Who Holds the Keys to the Next Government)

Following are almost all the parties, as described by Allison, that are fighting in this election (original article can read here):

Yamina
The newly formed Yamina (formerly United Right) slate is essentially a restoration of the alliance Ayelet Shaked helped dismantle, with disastrous results, after she and Naftali Bennett broke away to form Hayamin Hehadash last December. (Their new party failed to cross the electoral threshold). After a weak showing in the election, the religious parties they left behind — Habayit Hayehudi and Bezalel Smotrich's National Union, realized that the whole of the “right of Netanyahu” camp is greater than the sum of its parts, and have fallen in line behind Shaked — to the astonishment of men who did not believe male Orthodox political leaders could ever bow to the leadership of a secular woman. 

But political survival is a powerful motivator. After polls made it clear that the personal popularity of Shaked would garner them extra seats in the Knesset, they agreed that she should top the ticket.

Source: Israel’s Do-over Election: A Guide to All the Parties and Who Holds the Keys to the Next Government

Joint List

They’re back! After a powerful debut showing in the 2015 election, in which it won an impressive 13 seats, the alliance of four predominantly Arab parties broke into two separate slates for the April race — and the results were bad. 

Disheartened and unhappy with the Joint List’s ugly breakup earlier this year, voter turnout in the Arab community dropped dramatically — from 63 percent down to just 50 percent. The two slates (Hadash-Ta’al and United Arab List-Balad) only picked up 10 seats between them, a major drop in representation. Having learned the error of their ways, the four ideologically disparate parties have decided to unite once more to reenergize their community. The slate’s leader, Ayman Odeh, has expressed hope that the move will help “overthrow the right-wing government,” as well as “preventing racism, annexation and the destruction of democracy.”

Yisrael Beiteinu
Avigdor Lieberman played his political cards cleverly when he refused to join Netanyahu’s coalition after April’s election, thus triggering the September ballot. His bold move, grandstanding against the ultra-Orthodox parties and forcing a new election, has not hurt his electoral chances by turning off right-wing voters. On the contrary: Polls indicate he could nearly double the number of seats he won in April (five) by turning himself into a gladiator for secular Israelis standing up against the ultra-Orthodox parties, and his declaration that he will force Likud into forming a national unity government. If Netanyahu refuses, he says, he will shift his support to Gantz. 

This has led Netanyahu to charge that his rival is betraying the right and that “a vote for Lieberman is a vote for a left-wing government.” Netanyahu and Likud have been working — thus far in vain — to convince Russian-speaking voters that he, not Lieberman, is their true champion.

United Torah Judaism
Not much has changed for the Ashkenazi, ultra-Orthodox alliance comprised of Agudat Yisrael and Degel Hatorah, which hopes to recreate its strong showing in the April election. There is a possibility UTJ could even make gains, bolstering voter turnout by using Lieberman’s threat to work for a coalition without them. Such a government, their leaders will warn communities, will try to draft their children. Lieberman has said he is determined to forge ahead with government plans to cut the number of full-time yeshiva students granted exemptions from army service. It was UTJ’s refusal to yield to Lieberman on this point that ultimately triggered the new election. 

Despite the fact UTJ forced Netanyahu into this situation, it remains loyal to the prime minister. Its leader, Yaakov Litzman, said recently that the party wouldn’t consider supporting any other candidate, saying, “We will go with Bibi alone.”

Shas
Like its Ashkenazi counterpart, the Mizrahi ultra-Orthodox party is confident that things can only improve in the do-over election — though some polls suggest otherwise. Shas leader Arye Dery aspires to winning 10 seats in September, but recent polls indicate a more modest showing with only seven seats — one fewer than the eight it won in April.
Shas, like UTJ, will run hard against Lieberman’s threat to push it out of the coalition by forming a unity government that would include its other political nemesis — Kahol Lavan’s Yair Lapid. And, as it did in April, Shas will stand firm on refusing to join a coalition that is not led by Likud and Netanyahu.

Labor-Gesher
In the first Israeli election of 2019, Labor was hobbled by the leadership of problematic outsider Avi Gabbay. Now, though, he has been replaced by former party head Amir Peretz, but there’s a new problem: Peretz’s decision to attempt to appeal to the center-right by teaming up with Orli Levi-Abekasis’ Gesher party, which failed to enter the Knesset in April, This has sown discontent in Labor ranks, as has his refusal to forge an alliance with Meretz or Ehud Barak’s new party, Democratic Israel. 

The darkening mood in the party was further fueled after one of its young stars, Stav Shaffir, jumped ship, joining Meretz and Barak in the new Democratic Union, and former party leader and Peretz ally Shelly Yacimovich — one of its most influential lawmakers — announced she was taking a break from political life. 

It hasn’t helped morale that new polls show the party performing even more poorly than it did in April, where it garnered only six seats — a humiliating position for the party of Israel’s founding fathers to find itself in.

Democratic Union
Among the wave of alliances in Israeli politics, this new electoral pact is perhaps the oddest. It was born after former Prime Minister Ehud Barak thundered back onto the political scene in May, burning with desire to unite the nation’s center-left and leftist parties into one. And although he didn’t declare as much, he implied that he’d like to see himself leading the charge. 

There had been talk of a Labor-Meretz merger, but the Barak factor disrupted the dynamic. In the end, Barak has joined with Meretz (a left-wing/Zionist party) in a marriage aimed at keeping both parties above the electoral threshold — with the added bonus of renegade Labor lawmaker Shaffir. She expressed hope that more Labor members would follow her lead, but has largely been disappointed. 

Also disappointed: Barak himself, who has been forced to forfeit his leadership role within the new party in order to assuage misgivings about his connections to convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein — a scandal that threatened to end his political comeback before it even began. 

The Kahol Lavan is not an alternative in Israel

Kahol Lavan, Blue and White party, has projected itself as an alternative to Netanyahu's Likud. It claims it has solutions to Israel's problems but its policies are not much different from Bibi's. Its leadership is less corrupt than Bibi and they may change some social policies here and there but on the key issues of rights of Israeli Arabs and the Palestinian state, they want to continue the failed policies of brutality,  force, status quo, and settlements. This was made obvious once again when the chairman of the Joint (Arab) List, Arab-Israeli parliamentarian Ayman Odeh said in an interview that, on some conditions, he would be willing to join a center-left government, led by the Kahol Lavan. The conditions were as follows:

• "Planning and Construction: Freeze demolition of buildings in privately owned territories, repeal the Kaminitz Law that exacerbated the penalty for building offenses, build an Arab city.
• Violence: Gather weapons from the public, establish anti-crime organizations and an inter-agency team to combat crime.
• Welfare: Construct a public hospital in an Arab city, raise old-age pensions, disburse extra budget for dormitories for battered women.
• Political: Resume negotiations with the "Palestinians", abolish nationality law."

This was a historic shift, something which Kahol Lavan should have considered seriously. They could have negotiated and rejected one or two conditions but its leadership immediately rejected this peaceful overture. 

Gideon Levy in Haaretz takes Kahol Lavan to task on 25th August and appeals Israelis to reject this "nothing" party in the coming elections:

Vote left, vote right, just don’t vote nothing. The nothing of Kahol Lavan isn’t merely nothing, it’s an actively destructive nothing. It suffocates any possibility of providing an alternative and eliminates any hope for change. 

The leaders of this nothing threaten that the next round of warfare in the Gaza Strip will be “the last round” and avoid the most moderate of Israeli Arab leaders as if he were the plague. If that’s the alternative to the right-wing government, then we’re better off with the original. 

It’s true that they are nice and less corrupt, that they would undoubtedly introduce a few changes that would improve the atmosphere in Israel. But they’ve already proven beyond all doubt that whenever a position must be taken not on a populist issue like the need for more hospitals, but rather on a controversial topic such as war and peace, they will always choose a right-wing stance. The daylight between them and Likud when it comes to core issues can be measured in microns. Kahol Lavan will only rush more quickly to lead Israel into another pointless, criminal war.

The disgraceful response of the heads of Kahol Lavan to the statement of Joint List Chairman Ayman Odeh offered definitive proof of their cowardice or their right-wing credentials, and it’s not clear which is worse. It’s safe to assume that the heads of Kahol Lavan seemingly agree with most of Odeh’s theoretical conditions for joining the government; only their fear of being painted in a too-left light pushed them into a response that pushed them to the right of Kahanist party Otzma Yehudit. When Yair Lapid and Gabi Ashkenazi treat Odeh as if he were contagious, their incitement affects centrist voters, not the “hilltop youth” hard-core activist settlers. 

The hollow talk of “the last round” and “the restoration of deterrence” has also proven that the nothing of Kahol Lavan is right and more right. Their next round in Gaza won’t be the last or even the antepenultimate round, because exactly like Likud, all they are offering is force and more force, with a few bones tossed in to assuage the hunger. The rounds of warfare will continue into infinity. The leaders of Kahol Lavan know what is the only solution for the Gaza Strip, but it's something which they don’t have the courage to propose. A few of them killed more than a few people, they have Palestinian blood on their hands; they know where all of that has led in the past, and where it will always lead in the future. 

They also know just how hollow the talk of deterrence is, when desperation is the main driving force. When a young Palestinian man places a bomb at a spring that was robbed from his village, he knows that he is ruining his own life and that of his family — and he is not deterred. And there is nothing that could deter him, apart from hope for a different reality. Pronouncements about deterrence are for cowards and populists, like those of Kahol Lavan. Courageous people would speak about a genuine solution, about lifting the siege on Gaza and ending the occupation of the West Bank. Save for these, there are no solutions. But that’s a few sizes too big for Kahol Lavan. 

Kahol Lavan offers a government of generals. Having spent the majority of their lives in barracks, they know only one language, the language of force, and only two kinds of Arabs, the terrorist and the collaborator. They also know very little about life in Israel. They were too busy with wars and policing. Not one of the three leading generals in Kahol Lavan has broadened his view of the world beyond that. Their clumsy way of speaking only underlines this. The addition of Yair Lapid, the civilian, only detracts from the party: He is the most populist politician in Israel today. “Deterrence you build through force, through a lot of force and through disproportionate force,” the off-brand macho boasted on Friday, sizing up the chances for achieving change in Israel at zero. If the choice is Netanyahu or Ahmad Tibi, then it's Tibi, without hesitation. Bibi or Benny Gantz of Kahol Lavan? Bibi, with hesitation.

We need Christian Nationalism in the US

In The Federalist, Matthew Cockran defends Christian nationalism and its place in the US.  In his article, We Need Christian Nationalism Because Religious Neutrality Has Failed, he rejects religious neutrality and equality and claims that "our religious liberty never proceeded from attempts at religious neutrality. It came precisely from the privileged position that Christianity has historically held in America and in the West."

He defines Christian nationalism, not as the conflation of American and Christian identities or a call for theocracy or white supremacy, but in a much simpler way:

A rejection of the religious neutrality of the late 20th century in favor of 1) a recognition that Christianity has had a unique and privileged influence on our American heritage that overshadows the influences of other faith traditions, 2) a conviction that a Christian understanding of the world should predominate over other worldviews in American civic life, and 3) an understanding that a nation that successfully excised or sufficiently diluted this influence could no longer be called “American” in the same sense as before. Although more general than what the statement condemns, this understanding would actually encompass many Americans, whether they accept the label or not.

Cockran argues that all religions are not the same and religious freedom is specifically linked to Christianity: 

Different gods make different demands. One of the reasons theological liberals are so blind on this issue is their ignorant presumption that, at their root, all religions are basically the same—that they all worship the same God, proclaim the same general values and ideals, and merely have different cultural trappings or modes of expression. In such a fantasy, a neutral pluralism is conceivable, but reality is a different matter. 

Although there is only one God, there are many gods (i.e., idols) in this world. The extent to which a person will support or even accept things like secular democracy and religious pluralism depends on that person’s god... 

What then does that mean for American democracy and religious freedom? It means neither can ever be religiously neutral. Some gods demand such things; some gods merely tolerate them; and other gods abhor them. To embrace these things as worthy of our support and protection and prioritize them over other concerns is to favor some gods and therefore some religions above others.

Rather than submitting to a fantasy of religious neutrality, Christian nationalism accepts and adapts to this reality. After all, the Christian faith is the root from which our form of religious freedom grew, and the American nation is the heritage in which it is enfleshed. The positive forms of secularism and religious liberty that had been enjoyed in America grew out of the specifics of Christianity. 

Christians, for example, have always held that there is a fundamental distinction between worldly government and the kingdom of heaven. Even the statement acknowledges this. You can see it in the teachings of Jesus—that his kingdom was not of this world, and that we should render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s. 

You can see it in St. Augustine, when he wrote of the City of Man and the City of God. You can see it in Martin Luther’s Two Kingdoms theology. You can see it in the Church of Rome’s doctrine of the Two Swords. Different Christian traditions have certainly differed as to how these two realms relate to one another, and some have separated them far more than others. Nevertheless, the distinction has always been there. Civil government can be disentangled from the church precisely because of that Christian distinction... 

So in the end, even the simple idea that church and state have distinct authorities and responsibilities is by no means religious neutral. It blatantly gives Christianity a seat of privilege in the way government is organized, and it does so at the expense of some other religions. 

The same can be said of American religious freedom. Americans have deliberately refrained from establishing a state church, and we allow extremely broad freedoms for the exercise of religion and the expression of religious ideas. This was a natural outgrowth of Christian ideas, since in Christianity, salvation comes through faith in Jesus Christ—a faith that cannot be compelled by force. Accordingly, from the Christian perspective, there is very little point in using the state to enforce religious adherence... 

In America, the weight of those past decisions have always been rooted in the values of the Christians who founded and cultivated this nation. Their substance is indelibly colored by Christianity. Our Declaration of Independence hinges the entire matter of independence on the “Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God” and ascribes our rights to endowment by the Creator. 

These are by no means religiously neutral statements. They are not sectarian, grounded as they are in the language of natural law, but they are nevertheless grounded in a Christian understanding of that natural law. Not every religion sees the matter the same way. Not every religion even has a natural law tradition.

Rejecting common objections to Christian nationalism, he contends:

Some would object to this line of thought, claiming that our nation really founded as much by deists rather than Christians. There were certainly a few prominent ones in the mix, but it doesn’t weaken my case in the slightest. Deism itself was always an attempt to possess a Christian heritage without possessing a Christian faith... 

Others would claim that our religious liberty is no longer Christian because many non-Christian nations have also provided measures of religious freedom. This is true, and I’m quite pleased that they’ve culturally appropriated religious liberty from the Christian West. I believe my heritage to be of value, so I think it’s great when others learn from it.