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The Godless Crusade
This book postulates that the rise of right-wing populism in the West and its references to religion are less driven by a resurgence of religious fervour, than by the emergence of a new secular identity politics. Based on exclusive interviews with 116 populist leaders, key policy makers and faith leaders in the USA, Germany, and France, it shows how right-wing populists use Christianity as a cultural identity marker of the 'pure people' against external 'others' while often remaining disconnected from Christian values, beliefs, and institutions. However, right-wing populists' willingness and ability to employ religion in this way critically depends on the actions of mainstream party politicians and faith leaders. They can either legitimise right-wing populists' identitarian use of religion or challenge it, thereby cultivating 'religious immunity' against populist appeals. As the populist wave breaks across the West, a new debate about the role of religion in society has begun.
350 pages, Paperback
Published March 30, 2023
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March 1, 2025
Tobias Cremer, currently a Junior Research Fellow in Religion and the Frontier Challenges at Pembroke College Oxford, offers a comparative study of the rise of populism in Germany, France, and the United States. Based on his analysis of survey data and in-depth interviews with 114 populist leaders, key policy makers, and faith leaders, he makes a fourfold argument: 1) The rise of right-wing populism is not the product of a renewed religious culture war or economic stresses, but rather the result of a new identity cleavage between cosmopolitans and communitarians that has its roots in growing secularism. 2) To capitalize on this divide, right-wing populist leaders mobilize Christianity as a cultural marker to advance their secular identity politics; this mobilization is strategic and often detached from Christian values. 3) This strategy is more successful among irreligious or non-practicing cultural Christian voters; practicing Christians are often immune to right-wing populist appeals. 4) The likelihood that practicing Christians are immune to populist appeals depends on two factors—on the availability of “Christian” alternatives within the political landscape and the willingness and ability of religious leaders to speak out against the populist right.
While the author’s argument is not without merit, the artificial divide that the author draws between anti-immigrant sentiment and economic reasons for embracing populism does not hold up under scrutiny. While populist leaders have denounced immigration as a threat to a Western Christian identity, rank-and-file populists and their leaders in Germany, France, and the United States have also advanced the narrative that immigrants are taking away jobs from “locals.” The two narratives, I would suggest, are not mutually exclusive, but rather deeply entangled with both contributing to the communitarian-cosmopolitan divide. For Europe, the rise of populism coincides with a relative decline in Europe’s political and global economic influence. While in the nineteenth century, poor French and German workers could assert their economic and cultural superiority vis-à-vis the colonial world, the twenty-first century European worker cannot. European nations have not only lost their colonies, but they also increasingly find themselves technologically behind in key sectors of the global economy. For example, Chinese electrical vehicles slowly are replacing German vehicles as the industry standard. Such shifts can be demoralizing and destabilizing, as they indicate a drop in a nation’s social, cultural, and economic status and can fuel fears among workers that their children may not have as comfortable a life as they did.
The author’s insistence that the anti-immigrant policies of right-wing groups can be divorced from the economic concerns of voters also does not bear out for the United States. As Marcia Pally noted in her study of right-wing populism in the United States–White Evangelicals and Right-Wing Populism: How Did We Get Here (Routledge, 2022), those who voted for Donald Trump in 2016 and 2020, including Evangelicals, cited as their number one reason, the economy. Here too, economic concerns were intricately intertwined with racial prejudices and fears of loss of social status. In 2020, a study found among Trump voters, 64 percent believed that immigrants were competing with US citizens for jobs; 72 percent felt that immigrants’ receipt of social services disadvantaged US citizens, and 63 percent believed that immigrants were responsible for increased crime rates. Although, as in Europe, the facts do not support the perception that immigrants are stealing jobs from “locals,” such narratives remain powerful among those attracted to populism, as they provide a simple explanation for the loss of cultural and economic status. After all, having someone to blame is easier to comprehend than abstract shifts in market forces and other global processes.
Also potentially problematic is the author’s understanding of Christian values and doctrine which he seems to see as immutable and unchanging, when in fact, history has shown that they are neither. While such changes are more pronounced and occur faster within less established churches, mainstream churches are not immune to such changes. For example, in the United States, it was not uncommon in the nineteenth century for many mainstream Protestant churches in the South to support slavery on biblical grounds. More recently, as documented by Marcia Pally, many evangelical church communities in the United States, which prior to WWII had supported a moderate progressive political agenda based on their religious beliefs, have experienced a conservative turn; this shift which began in the context of the Cold War and the battle against a “godless” communism has now become a battle against a different outsider – the illegal immigrant and against “big government” which they perceive as a threat to their way of life. Even within the Catholic Church, there have been important shifts in doctrine, such as those introduced in the wake of Vatican II, that had profound effects on internal church dynamics as well as its members’ engagement with social justice issues (not to mention the intense theological debates that followed Vatican II on priestly celibacy, gays in the Church, birth control, and abortion in which both sides drew on religious, not secular, arguments). These shifts in how Christians understand Church and biblical teachings suggest that a closer relationship may exist between populism and changing Christian values. Similarly, his definition of religion which places a heavy emphasis on Church attendance and membership in an established church does not do justice to current ways of identifying as religious; in other words, by downplaying the Christian “belief” of those who rarely or never attend Church, he may be missing points of continuity and rupture between current populism and past manifestations. This is not to say that secularism is not on the rise; it certainly is. However, the attraction of populism cannot be explained without a careful consideration of economic and religious factors, as well as secular ideological ones, because the three, I would suggest, are intertwined in complex, multifaceted ways that this study does not give sufficient consideration.
While the author’s argument is not without merit, the artificial divide that the author draws between anti-immigrant sentiment and economic reasons for embracing populism does not hold up under scrutiny. While populist leaders have denounced immigration as a threat to a Western Christian identity, rank-and-file populists and their leaders in Germany, France, and the United States have also advanced the narrative that immigrants are taking away jobs from “locals.” The two narratives, I would suggest, are not mutually exclusive, but rather deeply entangled with both contributing to the communitarian-cosmopolitan divide. For Europe, the rise of populism coincides with a relative decline in Europe’s political and global economic influence. While in the nineteenth century, poor French and German workers could assert their economic and cultural superiority vis-à-vis the colonial world, the twenty-first century European worker cannot. European nations have not only lost their colonies, but they also increasingly find themselves technologically behind in key sectors of the global economy. For example, Chinese electrical vehicles slowly are replacing German vehicles as the industry standard. Such shifts can be demoralizing and destabilizing, as they indicate a drop in a nation’s social, cultural, and economic status and can fuel fears among workers that their children may not have as comfortable a life as they did.
The author’s insistence that the anti-immigrant policies of right-wing groups can be divorced from the economic concerns of voters also does not bear out for the United States. As Marcia Pally noted in her study of right-wing populism in the United States–White Evangelicals and Right-Wing Populism: How Did We Get Here (Routledge, 2022), those who voted for Donald Trump in 2016 and 2020, including Evangelicals, cited as their number one reason, the economy. Here too, economic concerns were intricately intertwined with racial prejudices and fears of loss of social status. In 2020, a study found among Trump voters, 64 percent believed that immigrants were competing with US citizens for jobs; 72 percent felt that immigrants’ receipt of social services disadvantaged US citizens, and 63 percent believed that immigrants were responsible for increased crime rates. Although, as in Europe, the facts do not support the perception that immigrants are stealing jobs from “locals,” such narratives remain powerful among those attracted to populism, as they provide a simple explanation for the loss of cultural and economic status. After all, having someone to blame is easier to comprehend than abstract shifts in market forces and other global processes.
Also potentially problematic is the author’s understanding of Christian values and doctrine which he seems to see as immutable and unchanging, when in fact, history has shown that they are neither. While such changes are more pronounced and occur faster within less established churches, mainstream churches are not immune to such changes. For example, in the United States, it was not uncommon in the nineteenth century for many mainstream Protestant churches in the South to support slavery on biblical grounds. More recently, as documented by Marcia Pally, many evangelical church communities in the United States, which prior to WWII had supported a moderate progressive political agenda based on their religious beliefs, have experienced a conservative turn; this shift which began in the context of the Cold War and the battle against a “godless” communism has now become a battle against a different outsider – the illegal immigrant and against “big government” which they perceive as a threat to their way of life. Even within the Catholic Church, there have been important shifts in doctrine, such as those introduced in the wake of Vatican II, that had profound effects on internal church dynamics as well as its members’ engagement with social justice issues (not to mention the intense theological debates that followed Vatican II on priestly celibacy, gays in the Church, birth control, and abortion in which both sides drew on religious, not secular, arguments). These shifts in how Christians understand Church and biblical teachings suggest that a closer relationship may exist between populism and changing Christian values. Similarly, his definition of religion which places a heavy emphasis on Church attendance and membership in an established church does not do justice to current ways of identifying as religious; in other words, by downplaying the Christian “belief” of those who rarely or never attend Church, he may be missing points of continuity and rupture between current populism and past manifestations. This is not to say that secularism is not on the rise; it certainly is. However, the attraction of populism cannot be explained without a careful consideration of economic and religious factors, as well as secular ideological ones, because the three, I would suggest, are intertwined in complex, multifaceted ways that this study does not give sufficient consideration.
June 19, 2025
This is an excellent study, drawing upon much sociological research and dozens of interviews to attempt to come up with a clear answer to the whys and hows behind the rise of right-wing populism in France, Germany, and the United States over the past decade. While the study leaves many questions unanswered, its primary insight is one that I've already seen picked up on by--and no doubt also independently developed by; it's not as though Cremer has been the only one asking these questions--multiple other observers: specifically, that White evangelical Protestant Christianity has become, for a great many people, a more-or-less entirely secular marker, a racialized set of grievance tropes that are embraced less for what they say about moral or religious beliefs and more for the social distinguishing that being hated by the right people (the "liberal establishment," mostly) is understood to grant. Contemporary right-wing populism is not a Christian ideology, but rather is an ideology of secular "White Christianism," with suspicion of immigrants and diversity and non-heterosexuals at its heart, rather than any actual religious faith.
This phenomenon arises in the context of multiple shifting variables, but the relationship between those variables isn't hard to discern, once you know what you're looking for. The outsourcing of work, the (I would argue mostly technology-driven) collapse of trust in social institutions, the transformation--and particularly, the privatization--of the post-WWII socio-economic contract and its one-time political defenders (unions, liberal political parties, etc.), have tended to hurt certain communities more than others--and those communities had historically been more dependent than most upon evangelical Protestant churches. As demagogues across Western Europe drum up support for anti-immigrant and anti-"elite" (broadly defined as anything college-educated liberals like) causes, blaming them for the aforementioned structural transformations, the language and symbols of those hollowed out cultural practices are identified with ever more tightly. Cremer never mentions Obama's famous (and famously misinterpreted) "clinging to their guns and their God" comment about the rural lower classes, and he's correct not to, I think, because this is a process working through stuff far beyond mere presidential rhetoric; there is, Cremer shows, a "demand side" to right-wing populism--people hurting and angry--as well as a "supply side": evangelical Protestant organizations and assumptions and preoccupations that were flailing, desperate to be connected to some cause or movement, however substantively (as Trump most definitely is) unChristian it may be.
For myself, the most interesting insight in the book is the one which points at the adherents of contemporary right-wing populism as "belongers without belief," kind of the flip side of the (unfortunately common) liberal quip about being "spiritual but not religious." I've known multiple people over the years, folks who are often on the somewhat conservative side of things, that acknowledge all the privatizing and pluralizing consequences of global capital and contemporary culture, but still hold to religious forms because they recognize their value; they will often call themselves--sometimes humorously, sometimes seriously--"religious but not spiritual." And after working through this book, I wonder: are these friends of mine some random, thin, tail end of the right-wing populist phenomenon, people who haven't been seduced by Trump, but nonetheless are the sort of non-liberals who are doubling down on being religious, solely because they...well, want to double-down on something, maybe especially something that their liberals friends (like me?) are sometimes dismissive of, putting themselves in a position of defiance (and, thus, solidarity, if only with something fictitious)? I wonder.
This phenomenon arises in the context of multiple shifting variables, but the relationship between those variables isn't hard to discern, once you know what you're looking for. The outsourcing of work, the (I would argue mostly technology-driven) collapse of trust in social institutions, the transformation--and particularly, the privatization--of the post-WWII socio-economic contract and its one-time political defenders (unions, liberal political parties, etc.), have tended to hurt certain communities more than others--and those communities had historically been more dependent than most upon evangelical Protestant churches. As demagogues across Western Europe drum up support for anti-immigrant and anti-"elite" (broadly defined as anything college-educated liberals like) causes, blaming them for the aforementioned structural transformations, the language and symbols of those hollowed out cultural practices are identified with ever more tightly. Cremer never mentions Obama's famous (and famously misinterpreted) "clinging to their guns and their God" comment about the rural lower classes, and he's correct not to, I think, because this is a process working through stuff far beyond mere presidential rhetoric; there is, Cremer shows, a "demand side" to right-wing populism--people hurting and angry--as well as a "supply side": evangelical Protestant organizations and assumptions and preoccupations that were flailing, desperate to be connected to some cause or movement, however substantively (as Trump most definitely is) unChristian it may be.
For myself, the most interesting insight in the book is the one which points at the adherents of contemporary right-wing populism as "belongers without belief," kind of the flip side of the (unfortunately common) liberal quip about being "spiritual but not religious." I've known multiple people over the years, folks who are often on the somewhat conservative side of things, that acknowledge all the privatizing and pluralizing consequences of global capital and contemporary culture, but still hold to religious forms because they recognize their value; they will often call themselves--sometimes humorously, sometimes seriously--"religious but not spiritual." And after working through this book, I wonder: are these friends of mine some random, thin, tail end of the right-wing populist phenomenon, people who haven't been seduced by Trump, but nonetheless are the sort of non-liberals who are doubling down on being religious, solely because they...well, want to double-down on something, maybe especially something that their liberals friends (like me?) are sometimes dismissive of, putting themselves in a position of defiance (and, thus, solidarity, if only with something fictitious)? I wonder.
November 30, 2024
Given the use of Christian symbols and rhetoric by far-right populist movements on both sides of the Atlantic, one may be forgiven in thinking that Christianity contributed to the rise of such movements. Yet if that were true, some pieces of data seem odd. For example, while right-wing populists politicise religion, they keep their distance from Christian institutions, doctrine and values (this is the case in Germany, France, and the USA) (pp 50, 255) Indeed, in interviews conducted by Cremer with leaders of these movements, when asked to define Christian identity, instead of referencing theological beliefs or Christian social values (like church officials did), such leaders instead primarily used cultural, historical, and identitarian terms in both Germany (p 78) and France (p 145). Additionally, research has found that religious practice and church attendance are good empirical predictors for not voting for right-wing populist parties in countries such as Germany, France, Italy, and Denmark (pp 41-42, 90). Even in the USA, throughout the primaries Trump performed twice as well among Republicans who never attended church (57%) compared to regular churchgoers (29%) (p 42).
Cremer thus submits that the rise in right-wing populist movements is attributed more to a new cleavage in society between globalists/cosmopolitans and communitarians along identitarian lines, i.e. between 'us' verses 'them' (p 32). This explains why Christianity is used as a cultural/identity marker by populists rather than a set of beliefs and practice. The cause of this new cleavage may be attributed to globalisation, increased immigration, the rise of Islamist terrorism, and the concepts of citizenship, sovereignty, and national identity being challenged (p 32).
What effect does religious practice and belief have? Cremer observes an interesting religious 'vaccination effect' among practicing Christians, where far-right rhetoric is extremely unpopular among regular churchgoers in Europe as Christian leaders oppose and speak out against such movements (both Protestant and Roman Catholic) (pp 42, 90). Curiously, this effect is muted among American evangelicals, and Cremer attributes this to the silence of evangelical leaders for a few reasons – Firstly, some are leaders of institutions whose donors "hate the people who hate Trump" (p 244). Second, because of the decentralisation of religion in the USA, leaders have limited authority over their congregations, unlike the established churches in Europe (p 243). Third, many leaders fear marginalisation and losing their congregations and/or churches (p 245). Underlying the first and third factors is also the fact that, in the American political system, there is a perceived lack of an alternative to Trumpism once it took over the Republican Party (p 233). Indeed, 76% of white evangelicals cited the fact that Trump was "not Hillary Clinton" as being a "major reason" for supporting Trump at the election (p 233). Another reason some leaders stopped publicly criticising Trump was because they thought they could have a greater impact with a seat at Trump's table rather than publicly criticising him (p 221). The result, however, is that many such leaders changed more than they changed Trump (p 222). Additionally, this silence of evangelical leaders "has often been read as an implicit legitimisation of Trump's identitarian references to religion." (p 245)
I think Cremer's findings and thesis leave us in an interesting place. The 'vaccination effect' shows the effect that the Church steadfastly advocating for truth, love of neighbour, and care for the sojourner can have, while the American experience with Trump serves as a good warning to leaders who choose to keep silent. The Church must resist temptations of wealth, dominion, and/or power, or she risks losing her distinct role as salt of the earth. Indeed, when the electorate are in fear and political actors seek to capitalise on that fear, the Church that believes in "perfect love that drives out fear" (1 John 4:18) plays a vital role in preaching and giving peace to her members and to society in general, just as she is betrothed to peace Himself (Ephesians 2:14).
Cremer thus submits that the rise in right-wing populist movements is attributed more to a new cleavage in society between globalists/cosmopolitans and communitarians along identitarian lines, i.e. between 'us' verses 'them' (p 32). This explains why Christianity is used as a cultural/identity marker by populists rather than a set of beliefs and practice. The cause of this new cleavage may be attributed to globalisation, increased immigration, the rise of Islamist terrorism, and the concepts of citizenship, sovereignty, and national identity being challenged (p 32).
What effect does religious practice and belief have? Cremer observes an interesting religious 'vaccination effect' among practicing Christians, where far-right rhetoric is extremely unpopular among regular churchgoers in Europe as Christian leaders oppose and speak out against such movements (both Protestant and Roman Catholic) (pp 42, 90). Curiously, this effect is muted among American evangelicals, and Cremer attributes this to the silence of evangelical leaders for a few reasons – Firstly, some are leaders of institutions whose donors "hate the people who hate Trump" (p 244). Second, because of the decentralisation of religion in the USA, leaders have limited authority over their congregations, unlike the established churches in Europe (p 243). Third, many leaders fear marginalisation and losing their congregations and/or churches (p 245). Underlying the first and third factors is also the fact that, in the American political system, there is a perceived lack of an alternative to Trumpism once it took over the Republican Party (p 233). Indeed, 76% of white evangelicals cited the fact that Trump was "not Hillary Clinton" as being a "major reason" for supporting Trump at the election (p 233). Another reason some leaders stopped publicly criticising Trump was because they thought they could have a greater impact with a seat at Trump's table rather than publicly criticising him (p 221). The result, however, is that many such leaders changed more than they changed Trump (p 222). Additionally, this silence of evangelical leaders "has often been read as an implicit legitimisation of Trump's identitarian references to religion." (p 245)
I think Cremer's findings and thesis leave us in an interesting place. The 'vaccination effect' shows the effect that the Church steadfastly advocating for truth, love of neighbour, and care for the sojourner can have, while the American experience with Trump serves as a good warning to leaders who choose to keep silent. The Church must resist temptations of wealth, dominion, and/or power, or she risks losing her distinct role as salt of the earth. Indeed, when the electorate are in fear and political actors seek to capitalise on that fear, the Church that believes in "perfect love that drives out fear" (1 John 4:18) plays a vital role in preaching and giving peace to her members and to society in general, just as she is betrothed to peace Himself (Ephesians 2:14).
June 17, 2024
A fascinating book to read, especially in the light of the huge 18-24s' vote for populist right parties in the recent EU elections. Cremer's book has four conclusions:
1. The rise of right wing populism and it's references to Christianity has less to do with traditional class and moral distinctions, and more to do with a view of the world (cosmopolitan or communitarian).
2. Though right wing populists have often invoked Christian imagery, they remain distanced from Christian doctrine, ethics and institutions.
3. Right wing populists have done better at appealing to non-religious and non-practising cultural Christians than practising Christians.
4. The ability to engage Christians at all is influenced by the availability of alternatives, and the willingness and ability of Christian leaders to critique right wing populism.
Perhaps the most powerful paragraph of the book is the final one:
"Churches and mainstream parties might feel justified in... condemning the 'hijacking' of religion through the populist right.... However, they will also need to recognise that in doing so they are only addressing the symptoms of a deeper democratic, social and spiritual crisis liberal democracies have been suffering for several decades. Condemning right-wing populists' remedy is one thing. Coming up with alternative cures will be much harder."
1. The rise of right wing populism and it's references to Christianity has less to do with traditional class and moral distinctions, and more to do with a view of the world (cosmopolitan or communitarian).
2. Though right wing populists have often invoked Christian imagery, they remain distanced from Christian doctrine, ethics and institutions.
3. Right wing populists have done better at appealing to non-religious and non-practising cultural Christians than practising Christians.
4. The ability to engage Christians at all is influenced by the availability of alternatives, and the willingness and ability of Christian leaders to critique right wing populism.
Perhaps the most powerful paragraph of the book is the final one:
"Churches and mainstream parties might feel justified in... condemning the 'hijacking' of religion through the populist right.... However, they will also need to recognise that in doing so they are only addressing the symptoms of a deeper democratic, social and spiritual crisis liberal democracies have been suffering for several decades. Condemning right-wing populists' remedy is one thing. Coming up with alternative cures will be much harder."
November 6, 2025
"The Godless Crusade" is an attempt to explain the populist right-wing political movements that emerged across the Western world over the past 10 to 15 years, culminating most notably with Brexit and Donald Trump. A German MEP and member of the SPD, Thomas Cremer profiles this movement, its leaders, and its political parties in the three countries where it is strongest: the AfD in Germany, the Rassemblement National (RN) of Marine Le Pen and Reconquête! of Eric Zemmour in France, and Donald Trump in the United States.
Cremer's book is based on hundreds of interviews he conducted with prominent politicians and intellectuals in their respective countries across the whole political spectrum. Although Cremer clearly comes from left-wing academia, he made a commendable if not entirely successful effort to be objective.
The book's thesis is that this new, populist right-wing movement taking hold in the Western world portrays itself as the defender of the Christian identity of Europe and the West, while eschewing the both the Christian faith itself and Christian morality. They use Christian symbolism, defend Christian traditions, and see their nations as inseparable from Christianity. This Christianity, however, is merely a marker of identity and not a faith to be practiced or lived in one's daily life. Lurking not very far beneath the surface of these movements and political parties is a strong hostility to Christianity.
These parties also emerged in the context of the new cleavage between cosmopolitans and nationalists that has emerged across the West. The cosmopolitan class is the new elite concentrated in the major cities. They are the "winners" of the new globalist economy, while the nationalist class are those mostly working-class voters who live in the interior and who suffered greatly from the de-industrialization brought by globalism. The new right populists represent the latter, while the establishment parties across the West increasingly represent the former.
In spite of these parties' references to Christianity, Cremer claims that they can hardly be called Christian parties, especially in Europe. Cremer demonstrates that, of all the German political parties, the AfD's parliamentarians have the lowest percentage who declare themselves members of a Christian church. There is even a very strong neo-pagan current in the AfD, and (according to some former members) Christians are internally isolated and sidelined in the party. The AfD is officially supportive of abortion, homosexuality and secularism, positions which are at odds with Christianity. One of its most prominent leaders, Alice Weidel, is a lesbian "married" to a Sri Lankan woman. In France, Marine Le Pen is very pro-abortion, pro-LGBT, and militantly pro "laicité." Although officially in favor of France's Catholic identity, Catholics are sidelined within the party.
These parties draw their support mostly from the irreligious, working class sector of their respective countries. These voters do not practice the Christian faith and Christian morals, but reject the massive influx of Muslim immigrants. They take up Christianity as a marker of identity primarily to oppose Islamization. As Cremer points out, they also feel the loss of a sense of belonging, like they are "strangers in their own country." A big part of blame for that can be blamed on the destruction of the family, extreme individualism, laissez-faire economics, and globalism.
Where Cremer’s book starts to break down is when he tries prove that practicing Christians don’t support the AfF and RN because of their Christian beliefs.
He presents studies that show that practicing Protestants and Catholics are much less likely to support the AfD or RN parties than the general population. Cremer believes that it is because of the irreligious, secularist, and even neo-pagan elements of these parties and especially their un-Christian positions on morality.
That has some truth. But Cremer conflates the progressive left wing leadership of the Christian churches (both Catholic and Protestant) with Christianity itself. He seems to consider “Christian” as people like himself, left wing believers who agree with the left wing leadership. This is simply not the case with all practicing Christians, especially practicing Catholics.
Another big factor which he mentions in passing but doesn't really develop is that much of Europe's irreligious population left the major churches -- especially the Catholic Church and the Evangelical Church of Germany -- in part because of their massive shift to the left and rejection of traditional Christian theology and practice. The leaders of these churches (Pope Francis for example) have favored massive Islamic immigration and even woke politics. Cremer seems to portray the populist right's rejection of the left-wing positions of churches as a rejection of Christianity itself, which is not true. It is much more Christian to oppose Islamic immigration into Europe than to support it. The Crusades, which he references in his title, is the supreme example of men who were devoutly Catholic in their personal lives but who also fought and killed Muslims in defense of the Faith and to protect the Christians of the Holy Land.
The conclusions that Cremer draws from the studies he cites are questionable. For example, he cites studies showing that self-identified Christians are less likely to support the AfD and RN. However, that does not mean that they don’t support their political positions. There are many studies showing that practicing Christians are more likely than irreligious people to be against immigration. For example, this Pew Research Center study shows that practicing Christians in Europe are more likely than irreligious people to have negative attitudes towards immigration and Muslims.
The most interesting part of Cremer's book is when he analyzes Europe, his native continent. His section on the United States is less interesting. He clearly did a lot of research and interviewed many of the principal players and intellectuals of the Trumpian right as well as their centrist and right-wing opponents. He writes that the United States is very different from Europe, but Trumpism shares some of the same ideology. Trump himself is not a Christian in any real sense, but uses Christian symbolism for political ends, such as his gesture holding the bible in front of St. John's Espicopal Church next to the White House at the height of the BLM protests, or when he issues a statement to Catholics on the feast day of Saint Michael the Archangel.
Trump's personal Christian faith doesn't exist, and he takes many positions contrary to Christian morals (such as his support for LGBT). Americans Christians have made what Cremer calls a "Faustian bargain" with Trump: supporting him as long as he delivers for Christians (which in truth he has done more than any other Republican president in living memory). Like the AfD and RN, Trump's most loyal and enthusiastic supporters at first were from the white working class who don't practice religion. In 2015-16, Christians were very reluctant about him at first. Even Vice President J.D. Vance once said he was an "idiot" and "reprehensible" and compared him to Hitler.
But unlike European voters, American Christians quickly came around to support him enthusiastically for his consistently pro-Christian political positions (if not still privately turned off by his less than Christian behavior). Although there are some neo-pagan and irreligious members of the MAGA movement, the strong presence of Christians in the US and the Trump administration ensures that Trump cannot stray into outright hostility to Christian faith and morals like the AfD and RN.
In truth, Trump has taken a strong nationalist turn with his tariffs and criticism of NATO (and praise for Putin), but in his second term he has taken a more muscular and even interventionist approach to foreign policy (missile strikes on drug smugglers, bombing of Iran, negotiating peace deals such as the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict and the Gaza War). He has implemented tariffs, but then lowered them after winning concessions. He has been more statist in the economy (buying the golden share in U.S. Steel and giving money for chip factories) but then lowered taxes and cut the government (Elon Musk's DOGE).
Thomas Cremer's book is most interesting when he shows the non-Christian positions and membership of so-called far-right parties and religious identitarianism, which should only increase as the West de-Christianizes and mass migration continues unabated. His book is very flawed when he tries to identify Christianity with left wing politics and opposition to the AfD, RN, and Donald Trump.
Cremer's book is based on hundreds of interviews he conducted with prominent politicians and intellectuals in their respective countries across the whole political spectrum. Although Cremer clearly comes from left-wing academia, he made a commendable if not entirely successful effort to be objective.
The book's thesis is that this new, populist right-wing movement taking hold in the Western world portrays itself as the defender of the Christian identity of Europe and the West, while eschewing the both the Christian faith itself and Christian morality. They use Christian symbolism, defend Christian traditions, and see their nations as inseparable from Christianity. This Christianity, however, is merely a marker of identity and not a faith to be practiced or lived in one's daily life. Lurking not very far beneath the surface of these movements and political parties is a strong hostility to Christianity.
These parties also emerged in the context of the new cleavage between cosmopolitans and nationalists that has emerged across the West. The cosmopolitan class is the new elite concentrated in the major cities. They are the "winners" of the new globalist economy, while the nationalist class are those mostly working-class voters who live in the interior and who suffered greatly from the de-industrialization brought by globalism. The new right populists represent the latter, while the establishment parties across the West increasingly represent the former.
In spite of these parties' references to Christianity, Cremer claims that they can hardly be called Christian parties, especially in Europe. Cremer demonstrates that, of all the German political parties, the AfD's parliamentarians have the lowest percentage who declare themselves members of a Christian church. There is even a very strong neo-pagan current in the AfD, and (according to some former members) Christians are internally isolated and sidelined in the party. The AfD is officially supportive of abortion, homosexuality and secularism, positions which are at odds with Christianity. One of its most prominent leaders, Alice Weidel, is a lesbian "married" to a Sri Lankan woman. In France, Marine Le Pen is very pro-abortion, pro-LGBT, and militantly pro "laicité." Although officially in favor of France's Catholic identity, Catholics are sidelined within the party.
These parties draw their support mostly from the irreligious, working class sector of their respective countries. These voters do not practice the Christian faith and Christian morals, but reject the massive influx of Muslim immigrants. They take up Christianity as a marker of identity primarily to oppose Islamization. As Cremer points out, they also feel the loss of a sense of belonging, like they are "strangers in their own country." A big part of blame for that can be blamed on the destruction of the family, extreme individualism, laissez-faire economics, and globalism.
Where Cremer’s book starts to break down is when he tries prove that practicing Christians don’t support the AfF and RN because of their Christian beliefs.
He presents studies that show that practicing Protestants and Catholics are much less likely to support the AfD or RN parties than the general population. Cremer believes that it is because of the irreligious, secularist, and even neo-pagan elements of these parties and especially their un-Christian positions on morality.
That has some truth. But Cremer conflates the progressive left wing leadership of the Christian churches (both Catholic and Protestant) with Christianity itself. He seems to consider “Christian” as people like himself, left wing believers who agree with the left wing leadership. This is simply not the case with all practicing Christians, especially practicing Catholics.
Another big factor which he mentions in passing but doesn't really develop is that much of Europe's irreligious population left the major churches -- especially the Catholic Church and the Evangelical Church of Germany -- in part because of their massive shift to the left and rejection of traditional Christian theology and practice. The leaders of these churches (Pope Francis for example) have favored massive Islamic immigration and even woke politics. Cremer seems to portray the populist right's rejection of the left-wing positions of churches as a rejection of Christianity itself, which is not true. It is much more Christian to oppose Islamic immigration into Europe than to support it. The Crusades, which he references in his title, is the supreme example of men who were devoutly Catholic in their personal lives but who also fought and killed Muslims in defense of the Faith and to protect the Christians of the Holy Land.
The conclusions that Cremer draws from the studies he cites are questionable. For example, he cites studies showing that self-identified Christians are less likely to support the AfD and RN. However, that does not mean that they don’t support their political positions. There are many studies showing that practicing Christians are more likely than irreligious people to be against immigration. For example, this Pew Research Center study shows that practicing Christians in Europe are more likely than irreligious people to have negative attitudes towards immigration and Muslims.
The most interesting part of Cremer's book is when he analyzes Europe, his native continent. His section on the United States is less interesting. He clearly did a lot of research and interviewed many of the principal players and intellectuals of the Trumpian right as well as their centrist and right-wing opponents. He writes that the United States is very different from Europe, but Trumpism shares some of the same ideology. Trump himself is not a Christian in any real sense, but uses Christian symbolism for political ends, such as his gesture holding the bible in front of St. John's Espicopal Church next to the White House at the height of the BLM protests, or when he issues a statement to Catholics on the feast day of Saint Michael the Archangel.
Trump's personal Christian faith doesn't exist, and he takes many positions contrary to Christian morals (such as his support for LGBT). Americans Christians have made what Cremer calls a "Faustian bargain" with Trump: supporting him as long as he delivers for Christians (which in truth he has done more than any other Republican president in living memory). Like the AfD and RN, Trump's most loyal and enthusiastic supporters at first were from the white working class who don't practice religion. In 2015-16, Christians were very reluctant about him at first. Even Vice President J.D. Vance once said he was an "idiot" and "reprehensible" and compared him to Hitler.
But unlike European voters, American Christians quickly came around to support him enthusiastically for his consistently pro-Christian political positions (if not still privately turned off by his less than Christian behavior). Although there are some neo-pagan and irreligious members of the MAGA movement, the strong presence of Christians in the US and the Trump administration ensures that Trump cannot stray into outright hostility to Christian faith and morals like the AfD and RN.
In truth, Trump has taken a strong nationalist turn with his tariffs and criticism of NATO (and praise for Putin), but in his second term he has taken a more muscular and even interventionist approach to foreign policy (missile strikes on drug smugglers, bombing of Iran, negotiating peace deals such as the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict and the Gaza War). He has implemented tariffs, but then lowered them after winning concessions. He has been more statist in the economy (buying the golden share in U.S. Steel and giving money for chip factories) but then lowered taxes and cut the government (Elon Musk's DOGE).
Thomas Cremer's book is most interesting when he shows the non-Christian positions and membership of so-called far-right parties and religious identitarianism, which should only increase as the West de-Christianizes and mass migration continues unabated. His book is very flawed when he tries to identify Christianity with left wing politics and opposition to the AfD, RN, and Donald Trump.
July 20, 2023
This book is too academic to recommend widely, which is unfortunate, because Tobias Cremer's work really explains a lot. He broadens the scope of analysis on religion and right-wing populism beyond just "Christian nationalism + hand wave and really explains the peculiar relationship between conservative Christians, anti-immigration populist / authoritarians, and the deep and widening cultural cleavage of secularism. If you care about this and can read social science, this is a good book.
April 17, 2023
Absolutely interesting and pressing research. This is right up my alley and my own academic research so naturally I had to get my hands on it. I think it is well written as it can be read by anyone and not be informative to the point of confusion or excessive foreknowledge needed. The title "in the west" is a bit misleading though as his research only covers France and Germany.
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