The Document That Explains Why Nationalists Keep Trying To Ban Porn
Do lawmakers believe they should be trying to make more Christians?
For the second year in a row, Oklahoma Republican Sen. Dusty Deevers has introduced a bill that would criminalize pornography in the state. If passed, S.B. 593 would create "criminal penalties of up to 10 years in prison for production, distribution, or possession" of consensual adult pornographic material and "10-to-30-year criminal penalties for organized pornography trafficking."
The bill died last session after being assigned to, and ignored by, the Judiciary Committee, but its language was broad enough to criminalize the illustrator of erotic drawings or "even someone who simply sent someone who is not their spouse a sexually charged photo," as Reason's Elizabeth Nolan Brown reported.
It would be easy to write Deevers off as a marginal figure who has attached himself to a strange lost cause, like the Florida representative who tried to repeal his state's ban on dwarf tossing in 2011. But Deevers not only has a posse, but a much broader agenda for America. This agenda was detailed in The Statement on Christian Nationalism & the Gospel, a manifesto of which Deevers was the primary author. His co-writers included former Trump appointee William Wolfe and Texas pastor/online influencer Joel Webbon. Christian Nationalists are a disorganized bunch, ranging from dispensational dominionists who want America to help Israel build a third temple to theonomic anti-Zionists who want America's laws to reflect those handed down by Moses. But Deevers' statement is meant to be a conciliatory document—bringing together the populist right faithful regardless of "confessional tradition or denomination" to silence non-Christian voices in the public square, criminalize pornography, and repel immigration.
The ideological core of this document is a Christian Nationalist reading of "the Great Commission," Jesus' command to his apostles to "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." The Commission is generally understood as evangelistic as opposed to coercive—after all, baptism always follows sincere belief and voluntary repentance in the New Testament. But Deevers' Statement regards the Commission as, in part, a call for rulers to impose onto non-Christians uniquely religious imperatives regarding consensual sexual behavior, obedience to the Ten Commandments, and official recognition of orthodox Christian creeds.
The Statement also urges the adoption of laws that have not traditionally been connected with Christian doctrine, such as a more restrictive immigration policy. However, it seeks to avoid being direct on this point. Its language of "secur[ing] our borders and defend[ing] against foreign invaders" suggests a reactionary opposition to immigration, not to mention its definition of a nation as a "particular body of people in a particular place" who are bound together by a "shared… lineage" and "languages." But Deevers' statement also denies that "sovereign nations must only be composed of mono-ethnic populations" and repudiates "sinful ethnic partiality in all its various forms."
This last point would seem to be the nail in the coffin of getting ethnonationalist buy-in for this statement. However, Deevers' co-author Joel Webbon clarified on X that as to "race…and how it relates to nationhood," the Statement is no concession to left-wing critics of racism, but affirms that, "there is a manner of ethnic partiality that is sinful, BUT there is a manner which is NOT sinful."
The tension between these two seemingly contradictory positions was massaged by Webbon in his correction of fellow Christian Nationalists Andrew Torba and Eric Conn. Whereas they had tweeted that a multi-ethnic society inevitably leads to "ethnic chaos," Webbon took the more moderate (for a Christian Nationalist) position: while this is generally true, racial discord can be ameliorated when the state officially embraces the identity of "a distinctly Christian nation."
In sum, although the Statement avoids calling all ethnic partiality "sinful," refers to immigrants as invaders, and presents ethnic nationalism as normative and perhaps preferable, Webbon argues its denial that a nation must be ethnically unified places it in the "moderate-centrist" position within Christian Nationalism. It also appears to be a not-so-insignificant position within MAGA. Indeed, the Trump administration's imposition of federal arrest quotas on migrants will certainly help to make it the de facto reality as many Latino Americans will inevitably be wrongly profiled and made to feel like outsiders.
The Statement on Christian Nationalism & the Gospel seems, at times, to suggest some libertarian sympathies. For instance, Article VII includes a denial that "civil authorities are tasked with being the caretakers of citizens or educators of children" because government schooling creates "a culture of dependence upon the state." Article X urges "restraint in international military intervention and adventurism in overseas 'democracy building'" and Article XVIII adds that wars should never be waged for greed or even to spread "good ideas" like democracy or Christianity. However, this philosophy of minding one's own business does not trickle down to the individual. It only protects the "sovereignty" of states to compel their reading of Christian ethics onto the people in its territory.
The Statement seeks to be as ecumenical as possible, not drilling down on too many divisive theological questions or espousing "any particular eschatological [end of days] framework." Nevertheless, another animating force within much of the Christian Nationalist movement is a certain kind of postmillennial eschatology. Postmillennialism argues that the world will become more and more Christian and then Jesus will return, so its advocates often describe it as "optimistic" in contrast to the "bad days are coming" Left Behind premillennialism of many dispensationalists. Paradoxically, many of the latter are also fellow travelers with Christian Nationalists. While some postmillennialists imagine a future where the world becomes more Christian as a voluntary response to evangelism and discipleship, Christian Nationalists scorn those voluntary postmillennialists as "pietists" and insist that Jesus wants us to advance the gospel (as they understand it) through the violent force of the state. Thus, despite a shared interest in military non-interventionism and a suspicion of certain kinds of state control over schools, Christian Nationalists are, at their core, diametrically opposed to the libertarian principles of individualism and the creation of a voluntary society.
It remains to be seen whether questions about Christian Nationalism are largely academic—a debate relegated to Christian pastors and theologians—or if it will be a significant force in American politics. While Christian Nationalism is a niche viewpoint now, its major advocates are strongly pro-Trump and hope to leverage their relationship with the MAGA coalition to achieve as many of their goals as possible. In an era of deal-making and creating policy just to "own the libs," we should expect a few wins for Christian Nationalists, particularly when they can advocate for policies that Trump is already passionate about, such as crackdowns on immigration.
