On January 6, 2021, an angry mob of supporters of the outgoing president Donald Trump stormed the U.S. Capitol in an effort to stop the certification of Joe Biden’s 2020 election. Prior to this event, they had been at a political rally in which Trump and his acolytes claimed that there had been widespread fraud, and that the election was “stolen.” The former president and many of his supporters continue to make the same allegation that instigated the attack. According to a poll released by CNN and SSRS in October 2023, only 28 percent of Republicans believe that Biden’s election was legitimate, with more than 4 in 10 (41%) claiming, falsely, that there was solid evidence Biden didn’t legitimately win enough votes to be elected.[1] So, as we head into the 2024 election, there continues to be a deep partisan divide among Americans that threatens our democracy.
Os Guinness is probably right when he states that “American society is more divided—economically, racially, ideologically, culturally, and religiously—than at any time since its house was divided and nearly fell in the Civil War.[2] In this second “civil war,” the “Left sees only the danger of the Right, and the Right the danger on the Left, so extremism confirms and compounds extremism.” Like the Civil War of over a century-and-a-half ago, this conflict threatens to undermine and destroy our common identity, both as Christians and as Americans. “American leaders and opinion leaders are at each other’s throats, intent on tearing each other apart . . . America is locked in a mortal struggle for what each side believes is the soul of the republic.”[3]
David French similarly observes in his book Divided We Fall: America’s Secession Threat and How to Restore Our Nation that we must acknowledge a fundamental reality—namely, that the continued unity of the United States cannot be guaranteed. “At this moment in history,” he argues, “there is not a single important cultural, religious, political, or social force that is pulling Americans together more than it is pushing us apart.”[4] Our geographic separation mirrors our religious, cultural, and political separation. “Increasingly, red and blue Americans live in separate locations, enjoy separate media, and hold separate religious beliefs.”[5] We increasingly loathe our political opponents. Moreover, these trends are self-reinforcing: “Clustering is feeding extremism, extremism is feeding anger, and anger is feeding fear.”[6]
There is an urgent need for dialogue about how extremist tendencies on both the left and the right pose a danger to our society, our democratic freedoms (including freedom of religion), and the integrity of the church itself. What I will argue in this essay is that a defining characteristic of hyper-partisanship on both ends of the political spectrum is a post-truth politics which threatens to undermine the freedoms of our democratic republic. Simply put, post-truth politics involves the inability to rise above partisan politics and arrive at a moral consensus based on a common search for truth. Politics is increasingly characterized by a totalistic “winner-take-all” and relativistic “win-at-any-cost” mentality. There is an embrace of moral pragmatism and power politics to the extent that truth itself is seen as relative, malleable, and instrumental, simply a means to the desired end in our intense political and cultural war. When politics, political ideology, and political partisanship are absolutized in this fashion, the very foundations of freedom and democracy are threatened. In what follows I will: 1) further define post-truth politics and identify its origins; 2) show how post-truth politics characterizes tendencies on both the left and the right—tendencies which pose a threat to our democratic freedoms; and 3) offer an alternative understanding of freedom in a democracy and the proper relationship between faith and politics.
Post-Truth Politics and Its Origins
In recent years, the phenomenon of “post-truth” politics has been a subject of intense analysis and discussion. But there is often a lack of conceptual clarity or agreement on the nature of this political dynamic. It is therefore important to have a conceptual understanding of this political trend and its origins.
The Phenomenon of Post-Truth Politics
The American republic was founded on the assumption that in an open debate the beliefs which best promote the well-being of America will triumph. In Jefferson’s words, “Truth is great, and shall prevail.”[7] With the emergence of radical pluralism, however, we have experienced a gradual deterioration of the moral and intellectual framework for defining the social good—or what Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann call a shared “symbolic universe” which is largely unquestioned, and cognitively and morally legitimizes public institutions. “Legitimation,” Berger and Luckmann explain, “not only tells an individual why he should perform one action and not another; it also tells him why things are what they are. In other words, ‘knowledge’ precedes ‘values’ in the legitimation of institutions.”[8]
It is this shared knowledge and commitment to shared values as a basis for defining the common good which is disappearing. In a sense, we might even say that, because of radical pluralism, there are competing “plausibility structures” in our culture.[9] This bitter competition between widely divergent plausibility structures contributes to the phenomena of post-truth politics. There is a sense, of course, in which the concept of “post-truth” is misleading and does not accurately describe our everyday experience. A medical diagnosis of cancer, for example, is rarely questioned. If you go out into the street and see a car bearing down on you, it is very important that you believe this to be an “objective reality” and get out of the way. Our lives are dependent upon accepting the veracity of a medical diagnosis or what we experience through our five senses. In this respect, we cannot be “post-truth.” Where we do have a problem, however, is in the domains of politics, ethics, and (for many) religion. In these areas, suddenly, the notion of “truth” or “fact” flies out the window.[10] For a variety of reasons, there is a devaluation of truth. Or, as Joshua Forstenzer states, “the ‘post-truth’ character of our politics refers to the relative irrelevance of the value of truth in contemporary affairs.”[11]
At this point, I want to be clear that I am not espousing the epistemological viewpoint known as “critical realism.” This perspective assumes that there is a simple correspondence between the external world and our understanding or judgments concerning reality. As Richard Middleton and Brian Walsh state, rationalist forms of naïve realism insist “that there is an objective reality out there that human reason and observation has secure access to” and that “the central epistemological problem is getting the facts straight and convincing others of the veracity of one’s conclusions.”[12] They rightly argue that knowing is always imperfect and perspectival. But there is a vast difference between acknowledging that our knowledge is always partial, flawed, and subject to personal bias and asserting (as many do) that there are no independently existing norms or criteria for truth and goodness to which we can appeal.[13] What I am suggesting, then, is that post-truth politics on both the left and the right is characterized by a political response to radical pluralism that is both totalistic and, in many cases, involves the abandonment of appeals to a common understanding of and commitment to independent norms and criteria for truth and goodness.
Post-truth politics in this sense carries with it some inherent dangers. We would do well to consider the status (or lack thereof) of “truth” in authoritarian regimes like Russia. In a book on Putin’s Russia entitled Nothing Is True and Everything Is Possible, journalist Peter Pomerantzev quotes a political advisor’s description of the regime: “Now no one even tries proving ‘the truth.’ You can just say anything. Create realities.” Russian dissident and chess grand champion Garry Kasparov similarly tweeted based on his own experience: “The point of modern propaganda isn’t only to misinform or push an agenda. It is to exhaust your critical thinking, to annihilate truth.” In commenting on these descriptions of Russian authoritarianism, Charles Sykes notes that in our heavily partisan political climate which is inundated with “alternative facts,” many voters will simply shrug and ask, “What is truth?” “In such a world, the leader becomes the only reliable source of truth, a familiar phenomenon in an authoritarian state, but a radical departure from the norms of a democratic society.”[14]
It might seem to some that I am overstating my case. Surely our tradition of democracy is strong enough to withstand any kind of take-over by a dictator, such as occurred in Russia, China, or Cuba. There are many different routes to the collapse of a democracy, however. As Jared Diamond points out, it is more likely that a breakdown of democracy in the U.S. would occur with one political party in power in the U.S. government or in state governments increasingly manipulating voter registration or gerrymandering election districts, stacking the courts with sympathetic judges, using these courts to challenge election results, and then using “law enforcement” or a branch of the military to suppress political opposition. That’s why our extreme political polarization is one of the most serious issues facing Americans today.[15] In How Democracies Die, Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt similarly state: “The tragic paradox of the electoral route to authoritarianism is that democracy’s assassins use the very institutions of democracy—gradually, subtly, and even legally—to kill it.”[16]
The Origins of Post-Truth Politics
What are the origins of post-truth politics? While it is not possible to answer this question in detail, I will briefly highlight three main factors: 1) the rise of moral relativism; 2) the absolutization of politics; and 3) the predominance of media “echo-chambers.”
Certainly, a big part of the problem is the postmodern rejection of any sort of “grand narrative” or appeal to universal truths. Instead of “the truth” there are only “truths”—truth claims that are relative to the person or group making them. To the postmodern mind, claims to moral universality or “master narratives” are frequently little more than legitimations of vested interests and dominant power structures that suppress or marginalize those whose stories or experiences do not fit the controlling metanarrative.[17] To a certain extent, this claim is justified. But radical relativism is not the answer. As a philosophical system, postmodernism in its more extreme forms has been largely discredited. But it still has a wide appeal in our culture. Regardless of the terminology that is used, pragmatism, relativism, and subjective eclecticism are still very much a part of the contemporary mindset.[18] “A kind of moral anarchy has descended across the land,” observes Philip Howard, in his recent analysis of American politics Try Common Sense: Replacing the Failed Ideologies of Right and Left. “Moral debate is dominated by fringe groups and fanatics, with no keel to keep debate centered on the common good.”[19] Shared values and a commitment to the public good are necessary for curbing selfishness and instilling the virtues of truthfulness, fairness, and restraint which are necessary for the smooth functioning of a democracy.[20] In post-truth politics a moral vacuum is inevitably filled by a resort to political power. Without some transcendent story or truth there is no coherent way to call into question abuses of power. If there is no fixed point of reference and nothing in particular is real or true or good all we are left with is “a will to power rooted in desires and judgments that have no justification but are their own measure of moral worth and significance.”[21] This is what the philosopher Nietzsche recognized as the inevitable outcome of radical skepticism. The power of will becomes nihilistic when it is guided by an ideology that submits to no authority higher than itself.[22]
A second source of post-truth politics is the absolutization of politics. In his thought provoking book, To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy, and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World James Davison Hunter argues that the defining characteristic of American political culture over the past century, especially since the New Deal, is a “tendency toward the politicization of nearly everything.” By “politicization” he means “the turn toward law and politics—the instrumentality of the state –to find solutions to public problems.”[23] In other words, the problems affecting society are seen increasingly, if not primarily, through the prism of the state and its association with law, policy, and politics. This means, further, that public discourse on everything—from abortion and same-sex marriage to social welfare and health care—is framed in terms of the language of politics or political ideology. It is important to see that this characterizes both left-leaning, self-confessed liberals who view morality as “relative” and religious conservatives who see themselves as ardent defenders of traditional values. “Each and every faction in society seeks the patronage of state power as a means of imposing its particular understanding of the good on the whole of society.”[24] When political ideology is absolutized in this fashion all public life is filtered through partisan beliefs, values, ideals, and attachments.[25] If, in this ideological battle, we view our rivals as a dangerous threat we may decide to employ any means necessary to defeat them—even if it involves circumventing the democratic rules of the game, largely abandoning the notion of truth, and sacrificing moral values on the altar of political pragmatism, Therein, again, lies the danger of authoritarianism and the collapse of democracy.[26]
The third leg of post-truth politics is the phenomenon of media echo-chambers. In The Righteous Mind, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt describes the power of tribalism to shape our ideas about truth. Particularly in today’s hyper-partisan climate, political views are “badges of social membership.” Political divisions, in other words, reflect our natural tendency toward “groupish righteousness,” or the in-group’s sense of moral superiority and self-righteousness.[27] “Once people join a political team,” he states, “they get ensnared in its moral matrix. They see confirmation of their grand narrative everywhere, and it’s difficult—perhaps impossible—to convince them that they are wrong if you argue with them from outside the matrix.”[28] Many voters therefore use information not to discover what is true, but rather to reinforce their relationship to the group or tribe. Information or data is used to justify the outcome we want. Alternatively, when we are confronted with uncomfortable or unwanted information, we look for reasons to deny or reject the argument or fact.
This phenomenon of partisan cherry-picking truths is reinforced by the tendency to seek out only those media outlets which echo what we want to hear. With the creation of media silos—or “echo chambers”—on both the left and the right, Americans have segregated themselves into what the Associated Press has called “intellectual ghettoes,” each with their own realities and narratives. “The silos are discrete universes that seldom talk to one another or seek to persuade or engage those of other viewpoints. As a result, the news media ecosystem rewards the loudest, most reckless voices, so the echo chamber gets louder and angrier and increasingly shrill.”[29] We seem, then, to have entered an Orwellian world where the very concept of “facts” which are free of our ideological biases no longer makes much sense. One political commentator, SnakeBeMe, states philosophically: “Truth matters. Facts matter. But whose truth and whose facts?” Apparently, there are few (if any) truths “out there” to which we can appeal that are independent of personal prejudices and preferences. “Truth” is merely “what we want to see.”[30]
The Liberal Left and Post-Truth Politics
Post-truth politics on the left is closely related to the liberal notion of tolerance, which is very much a part of the conceptual and value structure of Western cultures. For many in Western cultures it functions as the foundational conceptual or “plausibility structure”—which, as we have noted, refers to structures of thought widely and almost unquestioningly accepted throughout a particular culture that define what is acceptable and unacceptable.[31] Given the highly diverse nature of Western societies (including the U.S.) and the fact that there are fewer stances held in common, this plausibility structure is necessarily very thin or restricted; but, for that reason, it is also held with extra tenacity, particularly by the liberal elites.[32] This leads us to a consideration of the difference between the “old” tolerance and the “new,” and the implications of this for the current state of politics.
The Changing Face of Tolerance
It is important that we distinguish between two concepts of tolerance. The first view, which is more in line with traditional concepts of truth, both acknowledges the existence of differing or opposing beliefs and affirms the right of others to articulate and live according to truths claims with which we do not agree. This view affirms freedom of conscience. It says, in effect: “I disapprove of what you say (or do) but I will defend your right to say and do it.” In other words, it draws a crucial distinction between strongly disagreeing with a belief or behavior and being hateful, violent, or disrespectful toward the person who holds that belief. Epistemologically, it is also based on three assumptions: 1) there is such a thing as Truth with a capital “T” which can at least be partially known and which we have a duty to pursue; 2) different parties may disagree sharply on what truth is, with one party thinking the other is wrong; and 3) the best way to adjudicate competing truth-claims and arrive at a shared understanding of the public good is through an unhindered exchange of ideas and persuasion, not unhealthy coercion.[33]
The new view of tolerance, however, moves from allowing the free expression of contrary opinions and truth claims to asserting that all truth claims and beliefs are equally valid. In other words, as S. D. Gaede points out in When Tolerance is No Virtue, undergirding much of the current liberal thought on tolerance, multiculturalism, and inclusivism is “not some sense of what is ultimately just or true but a very deep ontological and moral relativism.”[34] In the words of Thomas Helmbock: “The definition of the new tolerance is that every individual’s beliefs, values, lifestyle, and perception of truth claims are equal. . . . There is no hierarchy of truth. Your beliefs and my beliefs are equal, and all truth is relative.”[35] The argument typically runs like this: Since every cultural or personal perspective is equally valid, every idea or perspective ought to be included. Indeed, to be exclusive about truth or personal morality is bad, while to be inclusive of all truth claims is good.[36] In other words, diversity is celebrated for diversity’s sake, regardless of the nature and content of the beliefs we are supposedly celebrating. But this necessarily leads to intolerance toward all who disagree with the notion of “diversity” as defined by the relativists.[37] Philip Yancey rightly says of this viewpoint: “Nowadays the principle of tolerance rules above all others, and any religion that claims a corner on truth is suspect.”[38] In this environment, to make any exclusive truth claims is to be intolerant, bigoted, and narrow-minded. But does this elevation of the new tolerance to the status of the supreme virtue not itself sound a little, well, dogmatic, exclusive, and intolerant?[39]
Political Correctness
Contemporary notions of tolerance are often associated with political correctness, which essentially means that one should not do or say anything that some other individual or group might find offensive or harmful. On the surface, political correctness encourages civility and condemns hateful speech or actions. Indeed, as Gaede points out, there is much in our culture that we ought to be more tolerant of. Rightly understood, tolerance is based on a commitment to justice; and the belief that every person has dignity and worth and ought to be treated as such. In our culture, however, tolerance has been redefined to mean that when it comes to issues of personal morality such as sexual or gender orientation, each group gets to define what is offensive for itself. Any group (or individual), in effect, determines not only how you should act toward them but also what you may say in their presence.[40] From this perspective, it is not legitimate to make value judgments on any lifestyle.
As an example, in 2014, Oberlin College posted guidelines for professors, urging them to use language that respected the “emotional safety” of their students. This included using each student’s preferred gender pronoun (for example, “zhe” or “they” for students that don’t want to be referred to as “he” or “she”). Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt point out that this illustrates a dramatic shift to a subjective standard for determining what is true or harmful to individuals. Gradually, in the twenty-first century on some college campuses like Oberlin and within the therapeutic community, the meaning of “safety” and “trauma” underwent a process of “concept creep.”
By the early 2000s . . . the concept of “trauma” within parts of the therapeutic community had crept so far that it included anything “experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful . . .” The subjective experience of “harm” became definitional in assessing trauma. . . . It was not for anyone else to decide what was counted as trauma, bullying, or abuse; if it felt like that to you, trust your feelings. If a person reported that an event was traumatic (or bullying or abusive), his or her subjective experience was increasingly taken as sufficient evidence.[41]
The extremes to which political correctness has been taken is illustrated by one case in which there was a full-fledged sit in at UCLA because a professor had the audacity to correct the spelling and grammar on a graduate-level exam. The students angrily claimed that it created an “atmosphere of fear.” Logically, if truth is entirely subjective, then imposing your version of spelling and grammar on somebody else is oppression (i.e., there’s spelling/grammar that’s true for you and spelling/grammar that’s true for me). In another instance, during a feminist meeting in which the first speaker was given a round of applause, one woman reported that the applause gave her anxiety. The group subsequently voted to stop applauding for the rest of the conference. “These are simply cases of a person’s hyper-sensitivity being taken to extremes,” writes philosopher Ken Wilber, “and instead of seeing the person as themselves perhaps suffering from an emotional problem, they are labeled ‘victim,’ and then it’s everybody else’s job to cater to their narcissistic whims.”[42] The net effect of this trend is nihilism and the privatization of convictions. Os Guinness rightly observes that “Political correctness has become a deranged dictator as language has been mustered and manipulated to devalue, marginalize, and silence opposing views of truth and reality.”[43]
Of further concern is the net effect that contemporary notions of political correctness have on political dialogue and the democratic political process itself. Mark Lilla, a professor of Humanities at Columbia University and himself a liberal, is critical of the current liberal emphasis on “identity politics,” which focuses on protecting my “rights” as an individual rather than the duties and obligations of citizenship. JFK’s challenge, “What can I do for my country?” has become unintelligible. Rather, the only meaningful question is caste in deeply personal and individualistic terms: “What does my country owe me by virtue of my identity?”[44] The politics of identity on the left, he argues, has encouraged hyper-individualism and self-absorption which undermines commitment to (or even the ability to talk about) the common good. Our current climate of radical individualism has created a Facebook model of political engagement which is “all about self, my very self, not about common histories or the common good or even ideas.”[45] In a Facebook world where individuals can “like” and “unlike” at will and where their very identities are fluid any alliances will become marriages of convenience and people—particularly the students in our universities—are less and less inclined to engage in reasoned political debate.
So classroom conversations that once might have begun, I think A, and here is my argument, now take the form, Speaking as an X, I am offended that you claim B. This makes perfect sense if you believe that identity determines everything. It means that there is no impartial space for dialogue . . . What replaces argument, then, is taboo.[46]
Before proceeding further, I want to emphasize that those holding the more traditional view of tolerance have certainly had their blind sports. Christians who are persons of truth should be especially concerned with justice, fairness, and respect for the dignity of all persons. Unfortunately, this has often not been the case. Instead, a concern with morality and truth has all too often been associated with a self-righteous “Us versus Them” mentality and intolerance of differences, prejudice, and bigotry. From this perspective, one can understand the concern for multicultural justice, inclusiveness, and civil rights which characterizes the liberal left. But even the civil rights movement could appeal to justice and a common sense of morality. The problem, as Bernard Goldberg rightly states, is that,
Over the years, as we became less closed-minded and more tolerant of all the right things, like civil rights, somehow, we became indiscriminately tolerant. “You’re so judgmental” became a major-league put-down in Anything Goes America—as if being judgmental of crap in culture is a bad thing.[47]
At virtually every level of our society, making “value judgments,” especially in the realm of personal morality, is a cardinal sin. Any judgment that people’s free choices might never-the-less be wrong, harmful, or imprudent is impermissible. Particularly in our schools, students have been indoctrinated into believing in the myth of “moral neutrality.”[48] It should not surprise us, then, that some individuals in this postmodern and gender-confused generation describe themselves as “omnisexual” or “pansexual” which means “A person who is attracted to all genders and all forms of sex;” or that one young man posting on YouTube describes himself as “polysexual,” explaining that he doesn’t “believe in male or female;” or that there are teenagers who are in sexual relationships with their biological cousins and believe that they have GSA (“genetic sexual attraction”).[49]
The Privatization of Religion
Logically, if tolerance of a plurality of truths is made an ultimate virtue, it would seem to lead to moral apathy. If there are no truths worth defending, what basis is there for expressing moral outrage? As G. K. Chesterton once observed, “tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions.”[50] But, of course, it is not possible for those holding this position to be totally consistent. Some of the most passionate people can be advocates of inclusivism on the left who fervently believe in the “moral correctness” of their cause. This can be seen, for example, in threats by some liberal activists to prosecute as “hate speech” those who preach the traditional moral line on gay sex and same-sex marriage. These activists “have a specific point of view . . . that they think is so obviously true that it justifies censoring religious dissent on it.”[51] This might be described as a moralizing (and inconsistent) support of moral relativism.[52]
This brings us to the contentious issue of the relationship between church and state (or religion and law) in a pluralistic democracy. Liberalism purports to be the champion of pluralism in our society. But, as Brian Walsh and other have shown, its defense of pluralism is in fact “a cover for a closed society in which real differences of value or worldview are trivialized.”[53] Many contemporary liberals argue for a radical separation of church and state that in effect creates a “naked” public square—one which allows only the “secular” and relegates religious truth claims to the strictly private sphere. Richard Rorty captures this sentiment of secularism in arguing that the state should guarantee religious liberty for the private lives of Christians but remove any expression of religious language and religious motivation from the public square. Rorty denies that there is any external rational or moral standard or universal truths—only the “shared agreements” of a community. In a secular society absent any external rational or moral standards, the only hope is a “pragmatic cooperation” between individuals and groups to find solutions to important problems.
But critics of Rorty’s “epistemological pragmatism” highlight certain inherent problems with his liberal project. Forstenzer argues that: ” Ultimately . . . it is Rorty’s failure to articulate criteria by which we can determine which community’s epistemic standards are preferable to those of other communities that demonstrates that his project was complacent towards the dangers of post-truth politics.”[54] Ron Sanders further asks: “Where do we go for the shared understanding when communities disagree? Who gets to define the boundaries of a community in order to frame the important shared agreement?” How does this sort of constructive project avoid the conclusion that “truth” is ultimately defined by those who hold political power? He suggests that the privatization of religious beliefs and values makes secularism just one more “ism” in a long line (“imperialism,” “colonialism,” “rationalism,” “scientism,” “racism,” and “triumphalism”), an overlay of the powerful onto the marginalized.[55]
Many liberals who think of themselves as secularists assume that their position of secularism is somehow morally neutral. In fact, since the 1960s the reigning public philosophy—or political theory about citizenship and freedom that should inform our public life—has been the notion of the “neutral state.” According to this public philosophy, as Michael Sandel describes it: “The liberal state . . . does not discriminate; none of its policies or laws may presuppose that any person or way of life is intrinsically more virtuous than any other. It respects persons as persons, and secures their equal right to live the lives they choose.”[56] For this reason, liberals argue, their secular frame of reference is intrinsically superior and ought to be supported by law while religious values and beliefs ought to be privatized.[57] But the idea of a “neutral state” is a myth. There is no such thing as “value free” knowledge independent of a commitment to certain “religious” beliefs and values.
Whether we are talking about abortion, same-sex marriage, welfare, surrogate motherhood, or civil rights for minorities, arguments about justice and rights are inescapably judgmental and necessarily draw on assumptions about what is ultimately “good.” In other words, determinations about what to tolerate or not tolerate in any given case involve making moral judgments about the practice in question.[58] On the issue of abortion, for example, since the law does not permit infanticide, it’s not possible to resolve the legal question of whether to allow abortions without making assumptions regarding the underlying moral and religious question of when personhood begins. The decision to allow abortions based on “freedom of choice” is no more neutral than a decision to ban them.[59] Or take the issue of same-sex marriage. The real underlying issue in the gay marriage debate is not freedom of choice but whether same-sex unions are worthy of moral recognition by the community—that is, whether they fulfill the purpose of the social institution of marriage. On this question, the courts have decided in favor of same-sex unions but against polygamous marriages. To be fully “neutral,” government and the Supreme Court would have to get out of the business of conferring social recognition on any marriage arrangements. But this is untenable.[60] On both issues, then, strict neutrality is neither possible nor desirable.
In its effort to bracket morality and religion, liberalism creates a void which opens the door for intolerance and the public hegemony of its own moralisms. Thus, as Walsh observes, “this position seems to offer openness and plurality but in fact it expresses a hegemonic and monolithic view of society and human life.” It inevitably marginalizes every belief other than its own. This is not true pluralism but “worldview totalitarianism.”[61] Carson similarly argues that secular liberalism smuggles in massive structures of thought and imposes them on those who disagree. “I fail to see,” he continues, “how such authority assigned to the ‘secular, moral order’ has any more limits on its gargantuan pretentions than the authority of, say a Nazis regime or a totalitarian Communist regime.”[62]
In his book The New Totalitarian Temptation: Global Governance and the Crisis of Democracy in Europe Todd Huizinga shows how the European Union has adopted a postmodern view of human rights that is based on the notion that human nature is malleable. A central tenant of this new dogma is that “individuals should therefore be free to transform themselves, to define and redefine themselves as they wish, unfettered by community, tradition or inherited values.”[63] This has huge implications for religious freedom. In both Europe and the U.S. there is the growing temptation to use antidiscrimination and hate speech laws to suppress faith-based views or practices that conflict with the postmodern conception of human rights. Furthermore, once objective truth is abandoned, the state becomes the ultimate arbiter of which version of “truth” is to be enforced.[64] Sanders, Walsh, Carson, and Huizinga are among those critics of liberalism who effectively unmask the totalistic tendencies of “post-truth” politics on the left.
Post-Truth Politics on the Religious Right
Evangelicals exert a strong influence within the Republican Party. Therefore, to understand post-truth politics on the right, we must examine the role that this segment of the American electorate played in electing Donald Trump to the presidency. It would be wrong, however, to paint all evangelicals with the same political brush. Samuel Perry, a professor from the University of Oklahoma, challenges the monolithic portrayal of American evangelicalism which predominates in much of the contempory discussions of the “religious right” in American politics. Contrary to the oft-cited and wrongly portrayed statistic that 80 percent of evangelicals voted for Donald Trump in the 2016 election (which only included white self-identified “evangelicals” who actually voted), American evangelicals were almost evenly split on Trump—with 52 percent voting for Trump; and the remaining 48 percent either voting for Hillary Clinton (24 percent), not voting (17 percent), or voting for someone else (7 percent). There is thus a war for the soul of American evangelicalism.[65] Nonetheless, among religious groups, White evangelical Protestants continue to have the most positive opinion of Trump. According to surveys conducted in February of 2024 by the Pew Research Center, two-thirds (67 percent) of White evangelicals have a favorable view of the ex-president.[66]
What is the main differentiating factor between those evangelicals (and others on the religious right) who strongly support Trump and those who don’t? According to a key 2018 study conducted by Perry and two other researchers (Andrew Whitehead, and Joseph Baker), it is Christian nationalism. “In other words,” says Perry, “once we removed the effect of holding strongly to Christian nationalist ideology, evangelicals were statistically no different from anyone else in terms of voting for Trump.”[67] Walsh similarly argues that the real reason pluralism is such a hot button issue among many on the religious right is that it signals the loss of what was perceived to be the cultural hegemony of Christianity, or what is often referred to as “Christian America.”[68] For many white evangelicals and others on the religious right this marriage of Christian nationalism and the idea of America as a Christian nation “chosen” by God functions as the “plausibility structure” which explains their support for President Trump—a support that largely persists in spite of what many would consider to be his “anti-Christian” behavior and his no-holds-barred approach to politics. It is this deeply consequentialist and pragmatic ethical orientation which, I would suggest, leads to “post-truth” politics on the right. To further unpack the dynamics of this highly unusual and what many would regard as inexplicable “love affair” between many white evangelicals and Trump we need to delve further into the strong affinity between evangelical political theology and Trumpism.
Republican Theology, Christian Nationalism, & Evangelical Support for Trump
Deep within the psyche of many evangelicals is the belief that America was founded as a “Christian nation.” Evangelical leaders such as James Kennedy, Jerry Falwell Jr., and Franklin Graham and historians on the religious right such as David Barton maintain that the Christian foundation of America has been expunged from our textbooks and our schools, and that modern believers must rebuild on the foundations of America’s Christian past. Many evangelicals long nostalgically for the days when there was prayer in public schools, the Ten Commandments could be posted in government buildings, it was culturally appropriate to say, “Merry Christmas,” and there was virtually no talk of LGBTQ “rights.” The noted intellectual historian, Mark Noll (and other serious evangelical historians) contend, however, that America was never “Christian” or “chosen” to be God’s “New Israel” as many evangelicals believe. In Noll’s estimation, not only does this view verge on idolatry. It is also historically inaccurate. Still, he agrees with a “weak view” of Christian America in the sense that some aspects of America’s tradition of liberty and religious freedom comport with biblical and Christian teaching, such as the belief in dignity and worth of the individuals. Secularists who argue for a strict separation of church and state also misinterpret the historical record. Thus, the image of revolutionary America as a “God-free” utopia of enlightened free thinkers is just as distorted as the opposite view of America’s theocratic founding.[69]
In this battle over the identity of America, there is a belief system or “political theology” consisting of a blend of Christian and classical liberal ideals that has saturated American pulpits for centuries. Evangelical preachers, argues Benjamin Lynerd, have long characterized America’s identity as essentially Christian by promoting what he calls a “republican theology.” This political theology espouses the simple dogma “that limited government can flourish only in a society with a particular moral formation, and vice versa.” Because of the separation of church and state, Christianity does not function as a “state religion.” But, according to this theology, “it does define and shape the civic character so as to make the exercise of freedom possible.”[70] To be more specific, this civil theology predicates republican freedom on the “golden triangle”—freedom, private virtue, and faith. Freedom requires virtue, which requires faith (or right religion), which requires freedom, and so on, like a “recycling triangle, ad infinitum.” In addition, it invests America with “eschatological significance”—that is, America is a “chosen nation” which has been endowed by God with the unique purpose of being a beacon of light to the world. Associated with this belief in America as a chosen nation is the “American jeremiad,” or assertion that America’s continued greatness and success is dependent upon its moral goodness. This explains much of the moral activism within evangelicalism throughout our nation’s history, including (more recently) those on the religious right.[71]
There is not a necessary connection between republican theology and Christian nationalism. In other words, although they overlap, one does not necessarily lead to the other. There are many evangelicals who may hold to a weaker or more moderate form of “Christian America” and favor smaller government and pro-life family values but, nonetheless, believe strongly in freedom for all religious belief systems in American society. These more moderate evangelicals may also be sympathetic to stronger supports for the poor and less draconian immigration policies.[72] Unfortunately, however, there are also many evangelicals and others on the religious right who combine a strident, chest thumping nationalism with a view of America as a Christian nation that is intolerant towards other religions and religious viewpoints. In the words of Lynerd,
republican theology lends itself easily to the more primal impulses of Christian nationalism. Whereas the latter aspires to group empowerment within society, republican theology clothes that agenda in metahistorical logic . . . It furnishes a conceptual framework beyond factional self-interest to defend Christianity as the lodestar of American culture. It encourages Christians, even nominal Christians, to lay original claim to the national identity, and arrays them against any group or ideology that might challenge that preeminence or corrupt the national ethos.[73]
We should also not discount concern among religious conservatives for other issues such as religious freedom, abortion, immigration, and sexuality as a factor in their support for Trump. But treatment of these issues is framed (either implicitly or explicitly) in terms of the republican theology to justify the dominance of Christianity in our society. Many Christians are deeply fearful of the future of America, American culture, and American Christianity. Recognizing the declining influence Christian beliefs in American society, many white evangelicals are drawn to Donald Trump’s restorative vision to “make America great again” and protect Christianity. As he said in in one political rally: “Christianity is being chipped away in this country. It’s being chipped away at and I’m not gonna let this happen . . . .”[74] Thus, many evangelical leaders enthusiastically support Trump in messianic terms, as the president who has been divinely chosen to fight on their behalf and restore America to its original greatness by bringing it back to its Christian roots. They are willing to give Trump mulligan after mulligan and turn a blind eye to his sordid and often unethical behavior because they strongly believe that we are in an existential struggle with “godless liberalism.” They justify his bombastic and often offensive rhetoric on the grounds that—as Jerry Falwell, president of Liberty University, put it—Christians don’t need “nice guys” but a “street fighters” in public office to combat the “liberal fascist dems.”[75] Some warn of apocalyptic doom. At stake in Trumpism is, in the words of Ann Coulter, “the future not only of America but of the last genuinely Christian country on earth and thus the world . . . If we lose America, it is lights out for the entire world for a thousand years.”[76] The fact that Trump’s approval rating during his presidency was close to 75 percent among white evangelicals[77] and has held steady at around 80 percent among all Republicans indicates the strong influence of the Christian nationalist ideology among many white evangelicals and other religious conservatives.
The problems with this merging of political theology and Christian nationalism to rationalize and justify virtually blind adherence to Trumpism are manifold, however. First, it creates the perception that white evangelicals and others on the religious right are driven to use political theology simply as a means of protecting their narrow self-interest and a cover for a more pragmatic agenda of social empowerment.[78] Many Christians have a tendency to fuse their faith with ethno-nationalist politics in order to protect and strengthen their culture footing.[79] In other words, Trumpism promotes a strategy to restore a kind of white Protestant-evangelical religio-ethnic hegemony that easily blurs into white nativism. The slogan “Make America Great Again” really means “Make White America Great Again.”
Secondly, the embrace of Trump by evangelicals has changed what it means to be “evangelical.” In the minds of many conservative whites, the term “evangelical” implies shared political, not religious, convictions. In one survey of Christian attitudes, for example, 43 percent of those who identified as “evangelical” said they did not believe in the divinity of Christ. But it gets even more bizarre. Another survey conducted by sociologists Philip Gorski and Samuel Perry found that nearly 19 percent of those who identify as “evangelical” also say they are “secular” or belong to a non-Christian religion. Significantly, over one-fifth of those Americans who agree that the United States should be declared a “Christian nation” are seculars or adherents of non-Christian faiths. “Clearly,” these sociologists conclude, “religious terms like ‘Christian’ and ‘evangelical’ are becoming markers of social identity and political views rather than just religious conviction.”[80] There is a merger of religious nationalism and white nationalism such that even seemingly religious and race-neutral phrases like “Christian values” or “Christian heritage” now imply “conservative white identity and values.”[81]
Third, like the liberals on the left, the religious right has largely lost a sense of shared citizenship and concern for the common good. Trump’s rallies are, as Mark Lilla argues, a “mob orgy,” not an assembly of concerned citizens. The incitements to verbal violence, threats against political rivals and conspiracy mongering (“It’s all rigged”) are lamely brushed aside by Trump supporters with comments that “He tells it like it is.” But democracies without a shared citizenship do not last. Given Trump’s demagoguery continued support for Trump is, in my view, inconsistent with true citizenship.[82]
Fourth, conservative evangelicals who espouse a Christian nationalism are being logically inconsistent when they express an unwillingness to grant the same freedom to other religious groups that they claim for themselves. Os Guinness rightly cautions: “Free people are always free to defend their freedom strongly. What they are not free to do is pretend that any and all means of defending freedom are right because they are done in the name of freedom.”[83] Those who deny religious freedom to others may well find the tables turned on them.
Fifth, evangelicals open themselves to charges of moral hypocrisy and a double standard. One set of statistics is particularly revealing. In an October 2016 poll—several weeks after the release of the notorious Access Hollywood tape in which Trump talked about his sexual exploits and bragged that when you’re a star, “You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything”—72 percent of white evangelicals polled said an elected official can behave ethically even if they have committed transgressions in their personal life. Five years earlier, when Barack Obama was president, only 30 percent of white evangelicals said the same. No other religious group shifted their views of the necessity of personal virtue for those holding an elected office as dramatically as white evangelicals.[84] As recently as 2011, white evangelicals were the least likely of any religious group (including unaffiliated Americans) to say that personal immorality was compatible with an ethical political life. Today, they are the most likely to affirm this.[85]
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the use of Christian nationalist rhetoric to support Trump regardless of his amoral behavior and habitual dishonesty signals a willingness to use any means necessary to preserve a perceived Christian identity. The tragic irony is that when Christians justify nearly every action to combat nihilism and moral relativism on the left, they end up perpetuating the same relativism and nihilism.[86] Stated bluntly, largely because of one man, Donald Trump and his assault on truth, white Christian nationalism is the greatest threat to both democracy and the witness of the church in the United States today.
White Evangelicals, Christian Nationalism, and Trump’s Assault on Truth
It is axiomatic that the health of a democracy rests on truth-telling. When citizens (not to speak of other nations) cannot believe our elected leaders—and most importantly the president—trust in government is eroded and the foundations of representative democracy are weakened. Thus, perhaps Trump’s most notorious and dangerous norm-breaking behavior is his assault on the truth.[87] But as Michiko Kakutani states: “His lies . . . are only brightest blinking red light of many warnings of his assault on democratic institutions and norms. He routinely assails the press, the justice system, the intelligence agencies, the electoral system, and the civil servants who make our government tick.”[88] Let me be more specific about the ways in which Trump has exhibited a contempt for the truth:
By his own admission, he repeatedly exaggerates, distorts the truth, or spreads “disinformation.” Recently, he was interviewed by reporters Carol Leonnig and Philip Rucker for their book I Alone Can Fix It (2021). When he was asked why he encouraged people during his presidency to believe things that weren’t true, particularly regarding the COVID-19 pandemic, his response was: “Are you talking about disinformation or are you talking about lies? There is a more beautiful word called disinformation.” When further pressed (given his long track record of exaggeration and spreading misinformation) on whether a president should be expected to be honest all the time, he said: “I want to be somebody that’s optimistic for our country. I think it’s very important.”[89] One would be hard pressed to explain how there is any ethically or morally relevant distinction between the intentional spreading of disinformation and an outright lie. But for Donald Trump, “disinformation” is a “beautiful word”! His promotion of “pleasing lies” and “reassuring lies” reflects a post-truth culture in which whatever I want to be true is true. In other words, “there is no real truth; truth becomes whatever I most fervently desire—in a sea of nihilism, passionate narcissism is the key determinant.”[90]
During his presidency, he disregarded the reports of science or intelligence experts—whether the reality of global warming, the threat to public safety of pesticides and other dangerous chemicals, hurricane forecasts, or Russia’s interference in our elections—which he found inconvenient, or which conflicted with his political worldview.
He regularly trades in conspiracy theories, the most egregious one being the Big Lie that the 2020 election was “stolen.” Over 60 court rulings found no evidence of widespread election fraud. In his book, Disproven Ken Block, who was hired by the Trump campaign to look for evidence of massive voter fraud states unequivocally. “No evidence—at all—of massive voter fraud was discovered. . . It is critical to set the record straight regarding voter fraud and the results of the 2020 election: it has never been proven, and most certainly had no role in impacting the results of the 2020 presidential election. The claim that voter fraud was the cause of former president Trump’s 2020 election loss has been disproven. Enough already.”[91] Yet, Trump and his supporters continue to promote this falsehood.
He regularly resorts to crude and inflammatory rhetoric which dehumanizes people, is often xenophobic, and exploits the fears and darker side of his political base.
He is obsessed with grievance—that is, he uses (or threatens to use) political power to pursue personal vendettas against political opponents and others who disagree with him or are perceived as “disloyal.” As Peter Wehner says of Trump: “When it comes to those who oppose him, he consistently uses words to demean, belittle, bully, or dehumanize.”[92]
He has been convicted of a felony for falsifying business records as part of a “catch and kill” tactic to hide negative information from voters about an affair with a porn star (Stormy Daniels) prior to the 2016 presidential election. He has also been found guilty of financial fraud. And he is under indictment in three criminal cases for: 1) willful retention of classified documents and 2) election subversion.
He has been unrelenting in his assault on the press, calling it the “enemy of the people” and the source of “fake news”—with the result that his supporters disregard and reject any negative stories about him, regardless of the merits.
Granted, the Christian faith and morality does account for personal failings and human sinfulness. But when it comes to Trump, defenses like “No one is perfect” and “All politicians lie” ring hollow. President Trump has taken lying, deception, and power politics to a whole new level. It is hard to avoid the conclusion that he embodies a Nietzschean morality that “might makes right” rather than basic Christian morality.[93] Peter Hinchliff rightly states: “What [the Christian faith] cannot accommodate is a concept of power which depends on and welcomes the use of either violence or lies, and infringes on the proper dignity of human beings to such an extent . . . . that it amounts to a positive affirmation of what is, in Christian terms, evil.”[94
So why are Trump’s lies, distortions, obfuscations, and obstructions of the truth tolerated by many religious conservatives (including evangelicals) who have long defended the concept of “objective truth” and decried the loss of “moral absolutes”? Various explanations have been given. But one that is often not mentioned is that Trump frequently tells “blue lies”—a term used by social psychologists to describe falsehoods “told on behalf of a group, that can actually strengthen bonds among members of that group.” Blue lies, in other words, are weapons of intergroup conflict that thrive in an atmosphere of anger, resentment, and hyperpolarization.[95] In a state of war, for example, lying (and violence) are often framed as crimes when committed inside a group—but as virtues and badges of honor when employed against the enemy. From this perspective, when defenders of the “real America” are pitted against those who would destroy it, lying is a mark of effective and shrewd leadership, not a character defect. Peter Whener, a former senior advisor in the George W. Bush White House, further describes the political dynamic in this way:
Many evangelicals . . . feel increasingly powerless, beaten down, aggrieved, and under attack—and in some cases they are. The elite culture is hostile to some traditional Christian beliefs. . . . People filled with anger and grievances are easily exploited. “Christians and people on the right start by believing they are fighting satanic forces,” a person who is generally quite sympathetic to Christians told me, “and in the process become nihilists.” It’s as if there is a deep emotional need for a dark narrative.[96]
In her classic, The Rise of Totalitarianism Hanna Arendt describes the use of lies by dictators and demagogues as a political strategy. “The ideal subject of totalitarian rule is not the convinced Nazi or the convinced Communist,” she writes, “but people for whom the distinction between fact and fiction (i.e., the reality of experience) and the distinction between true and false (i.e., the standards of thought) no longer exist.”[97] Arendt understood that the purpose of the avalanche of distortions of truth and outright lies is not for people to believe what the propagandist is saying. Rather, it is to blur the distinction between factual truth and falsehood and induce chronic disbelief, or indifference. Who knows what to believe? Anyway, who cares?[98] Thus millions of Trump supporters may or may not believe that Barack Obama was not a U.S. citizen and that he tapped Trump’s phone; that climate change is a hoax; that Hillary Clinton ran a child sex ring out of a pizza parlor; that the majority of immigrants are criminals and drug addicts—the list could go on-and-on. Whether or not they believe these falsehoods is probably irrelevant. To again quote Arendt: “The result of a consistent and total substitution of lie for factual truth is not that the lie will now be accepted as truth and truth be defamed as a lie, but that the sense by which we take our bearings in the real world . . . is being destroyed.”[99] Furthermore, “The goal of totalitarian propaganda is not persuasion . . . What convinces masses are not facts, not even invented facts, but only the consistency of the system of which they are presumably a part.”[100] Nietzsche coined the term perspectivism to refer to the idea that there is no objective truth and that in the pursuit of naked power everybody gets to make up their own reality and their own script.[101] Phillip Howard rightly warns: “When what’s true doesn’t matter all basis for social trust disappears. American culture is transformed into an ‘anti-culture.’”[102]
The former Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright describes Hitler’s rise to power in her recent book, Fascism: A Warning. Hitler capitalized on the anger, resentment, and fears of the German people. He used extremist rhetoric to rile public sentiments against perceived threats, promised a new era of German ascendency, and did not hesitate to tell what he later called “colossal untruths.” Continues Albright: “His murderous ambition, avowed racism, and utter immorality were given the thinnest mask, yet millions of Germans were drawn to [him] precisely because he seemed authentic.[103] Most importantly, he couched his lies and nationalist rhetoric in theological language. Erwin Lutzer observes: “The man who is perhaps the most notorious dictator of all time repeatedly explained his role in the world as a responsibility given to him by ‘higher powers.” His writings are filled with references to ‘Divine Providence’ or what he simply calls ‘Fate/’”[104] To justify the abolition of the democratic “system” of the Weimer Republic he merged the National Socialist seizure of power with the idea of Providence by reference to a theology of history that is “beyond the works of man.”[105] And he regularly thanked Providence for his successes.
The autocrat (or would-be autocrat) is no one without his followers, says historian Ruth Ben-Ghiat in Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present. “They are not merely the faces that cheer him at rallies, his corrupt coconspirators, and the persecutors his enemies, but the force that anoints him as the chosen one and maintains him in power.”[106] Following the 2016 election, Trump and his supporters tapped into theological language that invokes divine Providence and authority. For example, the evangelical leader Franklin Graham described the election of Trump as “God's will;” Ann Coulter defended Trump as a Christian savior; an evangelical talk show personality (Wayne Allen Root) likened the Trump presidency to the “second coming of God;” and Trump described himself as “the chosen one.”
Some of the most ardent supporters that make up Trump’s base are charismatic Christians associated with a group called the New Apostolic Reformation. These Christians are motivated to support Trump because of alleged prophetic revelations that he is God’s anointed candidate to lead America at this moment in the unfolding of God’s plan for the world. They also promote the conspiratorial narrative that Trump’s opponents are part of a network of “Marxist” cells working for the “Deep State,” supported by the “Fake News” media. Believing that they are involved in “spiritual warfare,” they claim that Trump’s political adversaries are inspired by demonic spirits which want to destroy Trump and the United States and prevent the realization of God’s kingdom on earth.[107] Following the 2020 election, most of these “prophecy voters” became election deniers. Believing Trump’s false allegations that the election was stolen and appealing to “direct revelation,” they differentiate the “real results” of the election (as revealed by God) from the results which they claim are due to Democratic voter fraud. They do not view themselves as anti-democratic but as the last best hope for democracy.[108]
Like many other leaders who are or aspire to become a “strongman,” Trump has utilized the authoritarian playbook—a set of interlinked tools and tactics consisting of conspiracy theories, propaganda, lies, corruption, appeals to victimhood and Christian nationalism, and the use of violence (or threats of violence).[109] This does not mean that Trump is a second Hitler, or that Trumpism is the same as National Socialism. But the similarities are striking—and sobering. As Mark Twain is reputed to have said, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.”
We seem, then, to be faced with two possibilities. First, it is possible that Christian nationalism promoted by the church could become an ideological cover for a reactionary fascist-like takeover of the government, not unlike what happened in Germany. Many political observers (including many former members of the Republican party such as Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger) regard this as a real possibility. On the other hand, Christian nationalism could provoke a negative reaction to conservative Christians by secular forces that influence public opinion, resulting in their almost total privatization. In this second scenario, liberal mainline churches which support the increased secularization of the state essentially become a pagan state-church of a pagan state, as has happened in Europe.[110] There is a third possibility, however, which I will propose in the next section.
A Way Forward
In this essay, I have argued that our society is currently locked in a battle between two totalizing political ideologies or “plausibility structures.” On the one hand, there are those on the liberal left who use the plausibility structure of tolerance based on relativism and the myth of state “neutrality” to legitimize the privatization of religion and the public hegemony of secularism. On the other hand, many on the religious right use the plausibility structure of Christian nationalism based on the myths of a “Christian America” and America as a “chosen nation” to legitimize the public hegemony of Christianity and Christian values. In the conflict between these two false narratives the notion of “truth” is the primary casualty—that is, “truth” becomes not an end but simply a means to a desired political end in this intense cultural war. With this loss of a concern for truth there is also the loss of a commitment to shared values and the belief that through honest and civil public debate we can arrive at some shared understanding of the common good. Without the ability to persuade, politics simply degenerates into a Nietzschean, nihilistic exercise of raw political power, intimidation, and an arbitrary silencing of those with whom we disagree. When this happens, the very foundations of our democracy are threatened. [111]
It should be emphasized that it is the extremists on both the left and the right who are the most vocal advocates of the above ideologies and most responsible for poisoning our political culture. Their influence is disproportionate to their numbers. Peter Wehner puts it this way:
It may be helpful to think of it like the concept of heard immunity. So long as a certain percentage of the population is immune from infection, the healthy herd provides protection to those who are not, since spread of the contagious disease is contained to an isolated few. But if a society drops below a threshold—say, 85 percent—herd immunity is lost. The disease spreads to the herd. And those who were protected no longer are.[112]
Our task, then, must be to construct a third alternative which transcends and reverses this increasing trend toward political, social, cultural, and religious polarization. As Jim Wallis argues, our challenge, both as Christians and as citizens, is to rise above political ideology and achieve a common understanding of and commitment to the public good.[113]
Freedom of Conscience, Virtue, and the Common Good
A foundational principle of our democratic republic is the freedom of religion and conscience which Os Guinness describes as “the comprehensive right to seek, hold, exercise, share, and change one’s ultimate beliefs, based solely on the dictates of conscience.”[114] In the present culture war, then, we should respect as much as is possible the other’s freedom to follow their conscience, even when we’re sure they are wrong or misguided. This does not make us relativists. Respect for conscience allows for conflicting truth claims without denying them or relativizing them.[115] This is not the postmodern view that it’s intolerant to call anybody wrong. Rather, it’s to say that individuals have the God-given freedom—within broad limits—to follow what they in their fallen condition believe to be true, even when they are in error! [116]
At the same time, individual freedom is not absolute. As we have said, the idea of a neutral state is not possible. There are times when government must enact laws which have the goal of preserving public well-being, safety, and common morals. A just society cannot be achieved simply by securing everyone’s freedom of choice. In fact, a distinctive feature of the republican conception of freedom, unlike modern liberal versions of freedom, is the capacity of individuals to rise above their own self-interest and deliberate with fellow citizens about the common good. As Michael Sandel puts it:
to deliberate well about the common good requires more than the capacity to choose one’s ends and to respect others’ rights to do the same. It requires a knowledge of public affairs and also a sense of belonging, a concern for the whole, a moral bond with the community whose fate is at stake. To share in self-rule therefore requires that citizens possess, or come to acquire, certain qualities of character, or civic virtues.[117]
To achieve a truly just society, then, we must cultivate the capacity to reason together about the common good. Particularly within a highly pluralistic society such as ours, the goal of a moral consensus can only be realized through persuasion and a common search for truth, not unhealthy coercion. It is this “triangle” of freedom of religion and conscience, personal virtue, and public reasoning and dialogue about the common good which makes up the “plausibility structure” of a republican democracy.
The Civil Public Square
In our day, politics is so closely identified with the public that all of public life tends to be reduced to the political sphere of the state—so much so, in fact, that when one boils it all down the final arbiter within the most of social life is the coercive power of the state. But logically, the state and politics are not the same as the “public.” Within the public space there are many other institutions and organizations—churches and synagogues, educational institutions, civic organizations, non-profits, businesses, and so on. Ideally, these mediating institutions inculcate the habit of engaging in public things through public dialogue. Within a republican democracy, in other words, much of the dialogue and debate between citizens in the common effort to forge a consensus on the nature of the “public good” takes place within these mediating institutions which make up the public square.
Os Guinness has written several helpful books on the culture war and the current state of American politics. He urges Christians in America (and Americans generally) to respond to the current cultural and political divide by adopting a positive freedom, which is the power to do what you ought to do. This kind of freedom requires a vision of truth, ethics, and the common good. Positive freedom is based on trust, character, promise-keeping, self-restraint, alignment with reality, and a commitment between parties to the principles of union. Guinness criticizes the incessant culture warring which trivializes important issues, demeans the participants, and undermines civil dialogue. He puts forth the vision of a “civil public square”—as opposed to a “naked public square,” which seeks to eliminate all public expressions of religion; and a “religious public square,” which gives a preferred place to one religion.
A civil public square is a vision of public life in which citizens of all faiths and none are free to enter and engage public life on the basis of their faith, as a matter of freedom of religion and conscience, but within an agreed framework of what is understood and respected to just and free for people of all other faiths too, and thus for the common good. . . . At its core are the three Rs of freedom of thought and conscience: rights, responsibilities, and respect. [118]
Within this covenant-based model of government there can be respect for each other’s freedom without surrendering one’s allegiance to the truth. We are free to express our beliefs and values in the public square and insist that others are wrong, even as others are free to do the same. Christians should seek to be “salt and light” in society, not as Christians trying to impose their morality on everyone else but as good citizens who “seek the welfare of the city” (Jer 29:7).[119]
There are two other essential features of this “civil public square.” The first is to recognize the morality of compromise. These days, compromise is viewed negatively as a sacrifice of one’s principles. But compromise is not an abandonment of morality. Rather, it is itself a moral act.[120] We have observed that conflict in a pluralistic society over issues such as abortion is not resolved by casting them as instances of moral judgment versus value-free secular reason. Rather, they are instances of moralities in conflict. If politics, then, is an inescapably moral enterprise it necessarily involves a process of contention and compromise among moral actors. Furthermore, those who would want to introduce religiously based values into public discourse should “translate” those values into terms that are as accessible as possible to those who do not share the same religious viewpoint.[121] From a Christian perspective, compromise is based upon the recognition that because of sin and human brokenness, all knowing is open to correction, redirection, and deepening. The fact that we all “see through a glass darkly” should lead to “epistemological humility,” even as we seek to articulate and defend what we believe to be right and true.
Secondly, there cannot be a divorce of faith and reason. Faith without reason is susceptible to extremist rhetoric, fanaticism, and moralism. Reason without faith results in a rationalist denial of a transcendent source of moral goodness and human rights. Though I am not a Catholic, I believe Pope Benedict XVI had it right when he stated that that without the “rational insight” that there is an intelligent Creator who is the source of good and morality, it is hard to imagine how the West could have arrived at “the idea of human rights, the idea of the equality of all people before the law, the recognition of the inviolability of human dignity in every single person and the awareness of people’s responsibility for their actions.”[122] Our nation’s Declaration of Independence affirms the existence of a Creator who is the source of certain “inalienable rights.” The idea of “natural rights” Samuel Gregg argues, rests upon a “common commitment to the full-bodied reason that includes but transcends the empirical.” This, in turn, depends upon a belief that there is a “creative logos”—whether he is called First Cause, Supreme Being, Yahweh, Allah, or Jesus of Nazareth—“whose rationality and liberty are reflected in our reason and in our ability to choose freely to know and live the truth.”[123]
Without a common commitment to these principles of compromise, faith, and reason, public discourse tends toward emotionalism and demagoguery, political conflict degenerates into partisan bickering, and political debate is reduced to bumper sticker slogans which do little to advance meaningful and substantive dialogue over important issues. We see abundant evidence of these tendencies in our current political climate.
Conclusion: Prophetic Christianity and Democracy
I will conclude with some observations about the role of Christianity in a democracy. In his very helpful book After the Election: Prophetic Politics in a Secular Age, Ron Sanders makes some important recommendations for how Christians ought to rethink the role of the church in a pluralistic democracy. He urges Christians (and evangelicals in particular) to return to the church’s prophetic roots as a “community in exile,” Christians, he argues, ought to recognize their calling as a prophetic minority which recovers the authenticity of the gospel and recognizes the limits of political engagement. As a prophetic minority that avoids entanglements with either political party, evangelical Christians can speak truth to power. Sanders agrees with James Davison Hunter’s assessment that followers of Christ who exist and do their work as “elites” on the margins of society are the true catalysts for change.[124]
This does not mean that Christians ought to completely disengage themselves from politics. The liberal democratic tradition and the Christian evangelical tradition need each other. The Christian tradition can help address certain weaknesses within liberal democracy (such as the tendency towards majoritarianism and the marginalization of certain groups of people) by providing a moral voice (particularly on behalf of neglected and oppressed citizens) and the development of “supererogatory virtues” (especially love for one’s neighbor) which go beyond the requirements of the liberal democratic tradition. By the same token, the protection of freedom and equality of citizens within a diverse society ideally provided by liberal democracy guards against the temptation of religious traditions (including Christianity) to become culturally hegemonic and forces Christians to sharpen and even re-evaluate their views in the public conversation with differing perspectives.
I believe Sanders provides a better way forward for addressing the thorny issue of the relationship between faith and politics. He summarizes his argument with the following observation from history: “President Lincoln’s work in abolishing slavery and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s work in the Civil Rights Movement are examples of how religious language and democratic language together were used to call America to be more faithful to its promises as a country.”[125] These two great leaders help us to see how we as a nation can achieve the vision of E Pluribus Unum (Out of the Many One) and halt the seeming inexorable drift toward post-truth politics.
[1] Bump, “No, Most Americans Don’t Believe the 2020 Election Was Stolen.”
[2] Guinness, Last Call, 12
[3] Ibid., 1.
[4] French, Divided We Fall, 1.
[5] Ibid., 32.
[6] Ibid., 2.
[7] Ibid., 175-76.
[8] Berger and Luckmann, Social Construction, 92-94.
[9] Berger and Luckmann acknowledge that there can be “deviant” or “alternative” symbolic universes which threaten social stability. Ibid., 106-9.
[10] King, “A Philosopher Explains America’s Post-Truth Problem.”
[11] Forstenzer, “Something Has Cracked,” 5.
[12] Middleton and Walsh, Truth is Stranger, 166.
[13] Ibid., 32.
[14] Sykes, How the Right Lost Its Mind, 90-91.
[15] Diamond, Upheaval, 356.
[16] Levitsky and Ziblatt, How Democracies Die, 8.
[17] Middleton and Walsh, Truth is Stranger, 71.
[18] Carson, Intolerance of Tolerance, 74.
[19] Howard, Try Common Sense, 131.
[20] Ibid., 132-33.
[21] Hunter, To Change the World, 101, 206.
[22] Ibid., 211.
[23] Ibid., 102.
[24] Ibid., 104.
[25] Ibid., 103.
[26] Levitsky and Ziblatt, How Democracies Die., 104-5
[27] Haidt, The Righteous Mind, 100, 370.
[28] Ibid., 365.
[29] Sykes, How the Right Lost Its Mind, 82.
[30] Ibid., 97-100.
[31] Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance, 1-2.
[32] Ibid.
[33] Ibid., 6-7.
[34] Gaede, When Tolerance is No Virtue, 37.
[35] Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance, 12.
[36] Gaede, When Tolerance is No Virtue, 37.
[37] Huizinga, Refusing to ‘Celebrate Diversity,’” 6.
[38] Yancey, Vanishing Grace, 23.
[39] Carson, Intolerance of Tolerance, 12.
[40] Gaede, When Tolerance is No Virtue, 21-22.
[41] Lukianoff and Haidt, The Coddling of the American Mind, 24-28.
[42] Wilber, Trump in a Post-Truth World, 43.
[43] Guinness, Last Call, 231.
[44] Lilla, The Once and Future Liberal, 67.
[45] Ibid., 89.
[46] Ibid., 90-91.
[47] Quoted in Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance, 16-17.
[48] Howard, Try Common Sense, 132.
[49] See Brown, A Queer Thing, 322-29; and Butterfield, Openness Unhindered, 4.
[50] Gaede, When Tolerance is No Virtue, 27.
[51] Hasson, The Right to be Wrong, 38.
[52] Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance. 76
[53] Walsh, “Liberal Tyranny,” 28.
[54] Forstenzer, “Something Has Cracked,” 27.
[55] Sanders, After the Election, 4-5.
[56] Sandel, Democracy’s Discontent, 13
[57] Carson, Intolerance of Tolerance, 88.
[58] Sandel, Democracy’s Discontent, 20, 322; Sandel, Justice, 281.
[59] Ibid., 252-53.
[60] Ibid., 258-59.
[61] Walsh, “Liberal Tyranny,” 29.
[62] Carson, Intolerance of Tolerance, 81, 89.
[63] Huizinga, The New Totalitarian Temptation, xiv-xv.
[64] Ibid., 206.
[65] Perry, “A War for the Soul of Evangelicalism,” 3.
[66] Smith, “5 Facts About Religion and American’s Views of Donald Trump.”
[67] Ibid, 4. See Baker, Perry, and Witehead, “Make America Christian Again,” 5-10.
[68] Walsh, “Liberal Tyranny,” 27.
[69] Stephens and Giberson, The Anointed, 91-93.
[70] Lynerd, “On Political Theology and Religious Nationalism,” 4.
[71] Ibid., 4-5; Lynerd, Republican Theology, 6-7; 40-45.
[72] Perry “A War for the Soul of American Evangelicalism,” 5.
[73] Lynerd, “On Political Theology and Religious Nationalism,” 5-6.
[74] Kirkland, “Past Now Present,” 2.
[75] Wehner, “The Deepening Crisis in Evangelical Christianity,” 4.
[76] Viefhues-Bailey, “Looking Forward to a New Heaven and a New Earth,” 198.
[77] In a recent poll, 73 percent of white evangelicals said they approve of the job President Trump is doing. See Zhao, “Nearly Three Quarters of White Evangelicals Approve of Donald Trump,” 1.
[78] Lynerd, “On Political Theology and Religious Nationalism,” 6
[79] See “An Open Letter Against the New Nationalism.”
[80] Gorski and Perry, The Flag and the Cross, 107.
[81] Ibid., 10-11; 20.m
[82] Lilla, The Once and Future Liberal, 132-33.
[83] Guinness, A Free People’s Suicide, 182.
[84] Wehner, The Death of Politics, 79-80.
[85] Galston, “Has Trump Caused White Evangelicals to Change Their Tune on Morality?.” See also Wehner, The Death of Politics, 79-80.
[86] Hunter, To Change the World, 275.
[87] Levitsky and Ziblatt, How Democracies Die, 197-99.
[88] Kakutani, The Death of Truth, 13-14.
[89] Leonnig and Rucker, I Alone Can Fix It, 516-17.
[90] Wilber, Trump and a Post-Truth World, 25-26.
[91] Block, Disproven, 20.
[92] Wehner, “Trump’s Sinister Assault on Truth,” 3.
[93] Wehner, The Death of Politics, 80.
[94] Hinchliff, Holiness and Politics, 67.
[95] Smith, “Science of ‘Blue Lies’,” 3-7.
[96] Wehner, The Death of Politics, 63-64.
[97] Arendt, The Rise of Totalitarianism, 474.
[98] See Sykes, “The Indispensability of Hannah Arendt,”
[99] See Howard, Try Common Sense, 137, 214.
[100] See “Hannah Arendt: On the Use of Lies as a Political Strategy.”
[101] Wehner, The Death of Politics., 123.
[102] Howard, Try Common Sense, 137.
[103] Albright, Fascism: A Warning, 33-40
[104] Lutzer, Hitler’s Cross, 45.
[105] Bucher, Hitler’s Theology, 51.
[106]Ben-Ghiat, Strongmen, 13.
[107] Berry, “Voting in the Kingdom,” 71-72.
[108] Rley, “Prophetic Populism,” 16.
[109] Ben-Ghiat, Strongmen, 7.
[110] See Carter, Rethinking Christ and Culture, 212.
[111] Wehner, The Death of Politics, 129.
[112] Ibid., 126-27.
[113] Wallis, On God’s Side, 3-4.
[114] Guinness, Last Call, 143.
[115] Hasson, The Right to Be Wrong, 15
[116] Ibid., 146.
[117] Sandel, Democracy’s Discontent, 5-6.
[118] Guinness, Last Call, 161.
[119] See Olson, How to Be Evangelical, 55-56.
[120] Neuhaus, Naked Public Square, 124.
[121] Ibid., 125.
[122] Gregg, Reason, Faith, and the Struggle for Western Civilization, 153.
[123] Ibid., 165.
[124] Sanders, After the Election, 44-45.
[125] Ibid., 73.
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