The Case for Christian Nationalism
Epilogue: Now What? | III. Universalism (Part 2)
Previously:
You denounce this; you disclaim that; you distance yourself from [insert the uncouth]; you love your country, but you’re not a fascist; you disagree with homosexuality, but you’re not a homophobe; you’re patriotic but recognize our “checkered” national history; you’re not woke, but “God hates racism”… Okay, we get it. You’re not a baddie.1
Let us break down these juxtapositions, some of which are quite odd:
You love your country, but you’re not a fascist: Who but the most bought-in MAGA Republicans, the kind that antagonistically wear the red hat into spaces where they know it may not be welcome, have been called a fascist simply for expressing their fondness for America? Perhaps someone in overwhelmingly leftist cities, like Portland or San Francisco, has been unfairly called a fascist for being overtly patriotic, but this is a wholly foreign experience in most of the United States.
You disagree with homosexuality, but you’re not a homophobe: If you disagree with homosexuality so much that you’re unwilling to be around homosexuals without perpetually deriding or preaching to them, then they rightfully take issue with your behavior. I have seen this situation play out multiple times, where a Christian has a particular discomfort with homosexuality or transgederism that sucks the air out of a room and makes everyone uncomfortable. If you genuinely care about exuding the love of Christ, you will not shy away from friendly associations with any unbeliever, even if their behavior disconcerts you, within reason (1 Corinthians 5:9-10). You will take care to let people know that your convictions do not render them unwelcome, and this will be reflected in your public and private words.
You’re patriotic but recognize our “checkered” history: Wolfe recognizes the checkered history of “adventure-imperialism” that killed up to one million Iraqis, so what issue does he take here? The most likely conclusion is that the type of “checkered” history he wishes to overlook are subjects like slavery, race relations, and the treatment of Native Americans. This issue could not be more falsely pushed into a binary; are there any other aspects of American history that require more mature, nuanced discussion, and where deliberate dismissal is a good sign that someone harbors racial prejudice?
You’re not woke, but “God hates racism”: The only people who will accuse you of being woke for opposing racism are people pushing racist beliefs. This one is an outlier, because the other three are supposed accusations from the left. Here Wolfe overplays his hand and reveals that rightists like him play the same dialectical games as leftists.
Wolfe affirms the Hegelian dialectic2 is in being used, when he writes, “We’re playing a rhetorical game, one that is rigged against us. Don’t play the game.”3 But his solution, a purposeful leaning into combative rhetoric, is an incredibly stupid move when faced with an unfair dialectical thesis; it is playing right into your opposition’s hands, because you are only offering an extreme antithesis. You must openly acknowledge that the other person is posing a thesis and refuse synthesis. This works both with leftists and rightists who play dialectical games, including Wolfe. For example, on June 23, 2023, Wolfe tweeted:
A type of antifascism is the true faith of the conservative. They genuinely believe all sorts of anti-socialist things. But they deeply *feel* their rejection of [right-wing] ideas. They drop everything by habit to eradicate them, and their confident, emotional denunciation is euphoric.4
I could, as Wolfe warns against, attempt to disprove his thesis by claiming that I am a “real conservative” who equally hates communism, but this would only weaken my own position. I could do as he suggests and ignore his statement and lean into my hatred of fascism (which is considerable), but that would only confirm his thesis. Instead the answer is to acknowledge that Wolfe is playing the exact same dialectical game he decries from the left. This correctly frames his statement as deliberate exaggeration, and allows me to next “walk away from the table” by stating the truth that I will not have synthesis with such a person.
Next:
Stephen Wolfe, The Case for Christian Nationalism (Moscow, Idaho: Canon Press, 2022), 457.
Put simply, the dialectic is the process by which one party poses a thesis, another counters with an antithesis, and the two eventually compromise with synthesis. This is often abused by people who deliberately push an exaggerated political thesis, much in the same way people “anchor high” in business, starting with a deliberately high price with the goal of forcing the other party to believe they are negotiating down to a fair deal, when they are actually agreeing to the full price.
Ibid., 457.