The recent move by the Canadian government to criminalize “condoning, denying, or downplaying” the Holocaust is not just an infringement of civil liberties supposedly guaranteed by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. More importantly, it endows a distinctively Jewish political theology with legal protections denied to core Christian beliefs. The fact that this development has not been opposed either by mainline Protestant or Catholic churches is highly significant. Still, once upon a time, the Catholic Church did possess a distinctive political theology of its own, one identifying the Jewish people as an actual or, at best, a potential foe. The Second Vatican Council put an end to that “antisemitic” article of faith. But in principle, at least, Catholics could return their historic political theology on the Jewish Question. Things are very different among the Anglo-Protestant people of Canada, in particular, and of the Anglosphere, generally.
Anglo-Protestantism has long since been captured by cosmopolitan humanism, a liberal world-view denying the existential distinction made by realist political theology between friend and foe. Accordingly, Anglo-Protestants shy away from the traditional Christian belief that the Old Covenant with Israel according to the flesh was superseded by a New Covenant between God and the Church. Having rejected supersessionism, Anglo-Protestants generally recognize the Jews as elder brothers in the faith whose Covenant with God remains in force. The Holocaust Mythos, therefore, is widely accepted as the story of a monstrous crime committed against a people of God representative of humanity-at-large. Mainline Anglo-Protestant churches inhabit a moral universe in which a loving God confronts the “perpetrators” of genocides against innocent “victims” who may or may not receive aid, comfort, or justice from “bystanders”.
The Jewish people, on the other hand, have not been slow to recognize that their world is characterized by a sharp division between their “philosemitic” friends and their “antisemitic” enemies. During the twentieth century and continuing today, Anglo-Protestants have recognized the Jews as their “friends” and have, accordingly, been willing to combat “enemies” of the Jews whenever and however their governments have commanded. The Second and Third Reichs in Germany were foremost among those designated by our governments as collective “enemies,” not just of the British peoples, but of humanity itself.
Now that the Palestinian President (while sharing a platform with the German Chancellor) has charged Israel with inflicting “50 Holocausts” upon his people, one might wonder whether the Germans copped a bum rap over the Holocaust 1.0. To reach any firm conclusion, we should reflect upon the historical development of Anglo-Protestantism and the theological presuppositions that have prevented the church from developing an ethno-religious theology capable of reliably distinguishing “friend” from “foe”.
How Anglicans Escaped “Anglo-Saxon Captivity”
The Church of England created the original model of Anglo-Protestantism during the sixteenth-century Reformation which separated the Anglican church from Roman Catholicism. The word “Anglican” is grounded etymologically in the old Anglo-Saxon term “Angelcynn” which meant literally “kin of the Angles.” This poses the obvious question as to whether Anglican political theology retains the capacity to draw any distinction between “friend” and “enemy” now that the Anglican “brand” has been drained of its ancestral, biblically-based, ethno-religious meaning. In what follows, I will use Angelcynn to denote the broad, but long disunited, body of Anglo-Protestants who could, and in my view, should re-unite in a broad church acting as a medium for the expression of their particular ethno-religious needs and interests.
Nations are rooted in historical myths, symbols, and ethno-religious traditions which, in the case of England, developed over many centuries during the Middle Ages. Leading authorities in support of that thesis are: Anthony D. Smith on The Ethnic Origins of Nations and Martin Lichtmesz on Ethnopluralismus. The concept of ethnopluralism must be distinguished from modern secular policies of multiculturalism as defended, for example, by James Tully. Official multiculturalism in the Anglosphere refuses to recognize the political character of Anglo-Protestant ethno-religious identity. But the Israeli historian, Azar Gat, in his book on Nations: The Long History and Deep Roots of Political Ethnicity and Nationalism provides support for the proposition that Anglo-Protestant Christians desperately need to recover a political theology anchored in their own distinctive ethno-religious identity. As things stand, all Protestant denominations, Anglican and dissenting churches alike, have united with the state to deny the legitimacy, indeed even the reality, of any such need.
Carl Schmitt is generally credited with the invention of the term “political theology”. What did Schmitt mean by political theology? German scholar Heinrich Meier suggests that Schmitt was looking for the legitimate foundations of political action. In European civilization, he found a conflict between political philosophy, ostensibly based in the universal principles of rational discourse, and revelation anchored in particularistic ethno-religions. To speak of revelation, of course, takes us into the realm of biblical theology. What is the relationship between biblical revelation and political theology? Did the historical Jesus preach a political theology? Did Jesus the Christ and his followers, before and after the Cross, have friends and enemies? While the historical Jesus seems to have focused on the destiny of his own people, the global Jesus, as worshipped by contemporary Anglo-Protestants, came to save the whole of humanity.
For the ancestors of today’s Anglo-Protestants, political theology, avant la lettre, was a fact of life. In fact, the theology of the Angelcynn was politicized from the very beginning of their historical ethnogenesis. The story of the emergence of the English nation, no less than the biblical narrative of ancient Israel, was and remains a process moved by “the lure of God”. Ethno-religious divisions long defined friends and enemies, thereby shaping the demographic development of the English nation. Neither the English nor, later, the British state created the English nation. Instead, the Old English Church nurtured the ethnogenesis of the English people. An embryonic English ethnos, working in and through the early Angelcynn church and their king, became the prototype of an English “state,” well before the Norman Conquest.
Over the centuries, the identity of those deemed to be enemies of the English changed. During the reign of Alfred the Great, the Vikings were perceived as the greatest threat. When William the Conqueror invaded England, the Norman enemy was victorious. The Norman Conquest in combination with the Papal Revolution transformed the ethno-religious culture of England. One sign of the transformation was the replacement of the Old English used in Angelcynn monasteries by the Latin language employed in the universal Church governed from Rome. The ecclesiastical regime based on the absolutist papal monarchy survived in England for several centuries.
Following the upheavals of the Reformation and Civil War, the division between Protestants and Catholics largely defined the distinction between friend and enemy for Britons, both domestically and internationally.
With the expansion of England, a Greater Britain emerged in the settler colonies around the world. From the eighteenth century onwards, the British Empire competed for power and resources with continental rivals such as France and Germany. Religious differences were no longer central to such conflicts. Indeed, since then, the process of secularization advanced to the point where historians have pronounced the death of Christian Britain.
In the Empire at large, one might even ask whether Australia, for example, was ever a Christian community on its road to nationhood. Ever since the Second World War, the declining Anglican confession throughout the Anglosphere has celebrated its escape from “Anglo-Saxon captivity,” to the point where it has been absorbed into a form of global Christianity hostile to any suggestion that the Anglican church should be of, by, and for the white British peoples of the Anglosphere. “White racism” is now the proclaimed enemy of mainstream Anglican political theology.
Indeed, contemporary Anglican political theology, in the person of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, manifests itself as the kinder, gentler face of post-Christian globalist bioleninism. In other words, it is difficult to distinguish between the public face of Anglican political theology and the Woke political ideology governing “Our Democracies”.
In the realm of academic theology, however, Oliver O’Donovan’s The Desire of the Nations offers a much more sophisticated model of Anglican political theology, but one no less opposed to an ethno-religious understanding of the Anglican tradition. O’Donovan contends that the point and purpose of every nation’s existence has been determined once and for all in the “Christ event”. “Membership in Christ,” he declares, “replaced all other political identities by which communities knew themselves”. Because the church is “catholic” it “leaps over all existing communal boundaries and forbids any part of the human race…to think of the Kingdom of God as confined within its own limits and to lose interest in what lies beyond them”. Strictly speaking, according to O’Donovan the church is an “eschatological” rather than a political society: it can be “entered only by leaving other, existing societies”.
For O’Donovan, in the modern world, not even those other, “political” societies constituted by governments are based on shared blood, language, and religion. Instead, the only form of “nationalism” open to modern “nation-states” such as Australia, Canada, or the United Kingdom is a “civic nationalism’’ defined by a common political will. Nationalism, therefore, is sometimes said to be in trouble. But, O’Donovan maintains, this is nothing new. “The truth is,” he remarks, “it has been in trouble ever since Christ rose from the dead”. In the eschatological society of the church, “no people’s identity as a people can be assumed; community identity is no longer self-evident. It is called into question by the existence of a new people, drawn from every nation, which by its catholic identity casts doubt on every other”.
In stark contrast, to that “catholic” vision of Christian identity, my thesis will defend the proposition that the Volksgeist of the English nation (and other British-descended peoples) was once, and could be again, an important medium through which God works in this world. Accordingly, this project rests on a set of presuppositions that differ in certain fundamental respects from those underlying O’Donovan’s approach to political theology.
Any theological schema of civic action requires one or more orienting concepts if it is to achieve its objectives. Historically potent examples of such orienting concepts, can be found in the lives and works of men such as Martin Luther, John Calvin, and John Wesley. Calvin’s theology was oriented around the concept of the “majesty or sovereignty of God.” Luther oriented his theological theory and practice around “justification by faith” while Wesley’s work revolved around the notion of “responsible grace.” Each of these concepts oriented new approaches to practical theology, each sparking its own theological revolution. Unfortunately, those revolutions oriented as they were, each in its own way, to personal salvation has run its course. Evangelical Protestantism is dying on the vine.
An Angelcynn Reformation seeking the collective redemption of British-descended peoples requires a more comprehensive strategy; it must be oriented around not just one but four concepts. This multi-pronged approach can be grounded in several existing but, as yet, separate streams of white Anglo-Saxon Protestant theology. The four key theological concepts are: (1) process theism; (2) preterism; (3) kinism; and (4) royalism. If and when these already intellectually compelling challenges to theological orthodoxy merge into a single popular current of ethno-religious experience, the next Great Awakening in British religious history will be in the offing.
Process theism builds on the historical theology of the nineteenth-century Anglican broad-church movement in rejecting traditional Christian theism. The early creeds of the Church established an image of God, outside time and space, the omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent source of being itself, who created the world out of nothing.
The doctrine of creatio ex nihilo cannot be found in either the Old or the New Testament. It appeared suddenly in the latter half of the second century B.C. Its appearance “can best be explained as a defence of the most controversial part of the Christian kerygma, the resurrection of the dead”. Only a God who created the world out of nothing could accomplish the bodily resurrection of the dead. Oliver O’Donovan’s vision of the universal church as an eschatological society preserves that creedal linkage between God’s created order and the bodily resurrection of believers in the new creation.
By contrast, process theism denies that the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo can be grounded in Genesis One. Instead, creation is conceived as an ongoing process within which God remains actively involved with all forms of conscious life. Biologist Bruce G. Charlton suggests that process theism can provide his discipline with the metaphysical framework it desperately needs to solve fundamental problems such as group selection. Natural selection is comparatively easy to explain at the level of individual organisms. But “true group selection…entails a purposive mechanism that can predict, can ‘look ahead’ several generations, and infer what is likely to be good for the survival and reproduction of the species.” The theory of natural selection “lacks teleology—a goal, direction or purpose.”
If the idea of purpose demands an organizing entity or deity then “evolution across history is best explained as a directional process of development” at both the individual (ontogeny) and group (phylogeny) level. The comparative evolutionary success of ethnic groups is probably affected, therefore, by the nature and intensity of their religious connection to the theistic organizing entity.
God is not omnipotent, however. Hence the evils of the world cannot be charged exclusively to his account; moreover, he is affected by his interactions with us and the wrongs we do unto others and ourselves. Robert Gnuse demonstrates that the Old Testament provides a revealing account of the processes of communication between the Israelites and the divine. Perhaps white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, too, could and should create a national bible recording our own communication—or lack thereof—with the divine.
Indeed, process theism provides grounds for doubting that the “Christ-event” (i.e., the Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection of Jesus) happened, once and for all, in the history of only one nation in the ancient Near East on planet Earth. Jesus the Christ made a unique appearance in Israel according to the flesh but who knows whether or not other singular incarnations for other unique nations or even other worlds are excluded. There is only one historical Jesus, but there may be other Christ-events in some other “holy nation.”
Preterism, or, Covenant Eschatology
Preterism (from the Latin, præter or “past”) is a biblical hermeneutic or interpretive method consistent with process theism. A preterist biblical theology denies that the Bible sets out the story of humanity from the creation of planet earth when God breathed life into the first human until the end of the world at the Second Coming (the Parousia) of Jesus Christ. Rather, the biblical narrative has to do with the rise and fall of Old Covenant Israel. On a preterist reading, the bible story will not support a futurist eschatology which still awaits the return of Christ at the end of the world. Preterists hold that the clear text of Scripture shows that all of the biblical prophesies of a new heaven and a new earth, not just those in Revelation, were fulfilled in AD 70.
In that year, Christ returned to oversee the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the physical center of the old heaven and old earth occupied by God’s first people. In the Book of Revelation, we see the Old Covenant world of Israel sinking into lakes of fire, while the New Covenant world enters into history. The Jerusalem Temple makes its exit in a spectacular cataclysm; a new creation becomes incarnate in the church, the ecclesiastical Body of Christ. There the bible story ends.
The preterist hermeneutic is also known as “covenant eschatology”. That is to say, the biblical narrative is consummated by the fulfillment of the covenant promises to carnal Israel. This was the end of the old age; it was then, that “the first heaven and first earth” long-symbolized by the Jerusalem Temple, “passed away.” It was with the end of the Old Covenant that the promised resurrection of the saints was fulfilled. This consummation was a process of spiritual renewal, begun by the resurrection of Jesus the Christ as “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor. 15:20). As the “Holy City, the new Jerusalem” came down from God, “a new heaven and a new earth” came into being (Rev. 21:1-2) thus inaugurating the church age.
This preterist vision of the resurrection at “the end of the age” is quite different from O’Donovan’s mainstream futurist eschatology. On his reading, “it is given to nobody but the risen Christ to raise the dead, the church’s authority does not rest in exercising that power by delegation, but in pointing to its future exercise in an act of testimony.” O’Donovan, like another well-known Anglican theologian, N.T. Wright, looks forward to the parousia of a “global Jesus” at some point in our own future. Wright portrays Paul as the one who prophesies the still-future transfiguration of the entire cosmos, the moment when all those who belong to the Messiah “are themselves raised bodily from the dead.” Wright very explicitly ties the victory over death promised by Paul and Jesus to a physical resurrection of the dead. If death is to be defeated, he declares, then “anything other than some kind of bodily resurrection, therefore, is simply unthinkable.” In stark contrast, preterists contend that “the covenantal eschatology of national Israel offers a much more persuasive hermeneutical framework within which to interpret Paul’s understanding of the resurrection body.”
Samuel G. Dawson, for example, points out that Paul publicly declared that he “was saying none other things but those which the prophets and Moses did say would come” (Acts 26:22). Dawson contends that “Paul’s concept of the resurrection wasn’t that fleshly (or even transfigured) bodies would come out of holes in ground at all, because that’s not what Moses and the prophets taught.” Instead, Moses taught “the resurrection of Old Covenant Israel from the death of its fellowship from God”.
Dawson breaks even more dramatically from Wright when he observes that Paul never speaks of resurrected “bodies.” Instead, Paul refers only to “the resurrection of one body, the Old Covenant faithful who were being transformed into the body of Christ.” The hermeneutic problem here, Dawson concludes, “comes down to whether the resurrection Paul spoke of was one body in his present time or billions of bodies more than two thousand years in the future.”
If Dawson is right, then the early church effectively replaced Israel as the people of God. The God of history ordained that old national Israel fulfill its telos through one final, fiery sacrifice on the Temple Mount. A new age dawned in which the historical process of interaction between God and national Israel, as recounted in the biblical narrative, expanded to incorporate both the Greek and Latin civilizations of the Mediterranean basin. In effect, Old Covenant Israel was superseded by the development of European Christendom.
O’Donovan explicitly rejects any such supersessionist interpretation. National Israel, he asserts, can never be replaced. The Old Covenant remains in force for the Jews. Because Jesus the Christ represents God the “Kingdom’s representative must suffer the resistance of Israel on God’s behalf; but representing Israel’s cause, too, he must suffer God’s resistance on Israel’s behalf”. In the end, however, O’Donovan returns to the utterly ahistorical claim that the representation of Israel “opens out to the representation of the human race”. In this new creation, however, O’Donovan insists that “the continuing Israel…is not to be dismissed as an irrelevant survival from the past”. The Gentiles have been grafted onto Israel’s root; we only await the moment when carnal Israel comes to see “the possession of the law fulfilled in Christ”.
O’Donovan maintains that “until the last reconciliation the two communities must coexist”. Gentile Christians “cannot ignore the community into which they have by faith been grafted”. In effect, therefore, when carnal Israel speaks, Christians must listen. One might expect, therefore, that even if O’Donovan’s political theology does not require the criminalization of acts which “deny” or “downplay” the Holocaust, he would never condone such blasphemy.
Indeed, O’Donovan explicitly joins with Christian Zionists to accord carnal Israel a theopolitical status unknown to other nations comprising the eschatological society of the human race. Whether other families, tribes, and nations have an eternal destiny may be open to debate; but there is no doubt in his mind that “Israel has one—is that not enough?” A positive response to that rhetorical question, turns on the truth or falsity of the futurist eschatology upon which O’Donovan’s political theology rests. My own view is that Old Covenant Israel is not the only nation through which God has worked in this world. The English, too, once saw themselves as a “holy nation”. With the grace of God, other British-descended peoples can and should strive to emulate that godly objective.
Process theism, when combined with the historical theology inherent in preterism, leads inexorably to Kinism, or, as some would have it, “the Christian doctrine of nations”. The Old Covenant bound the holy nation of Israel to God; the New Covenant offered the grace of God to every nation (ethnos) of the known world (oikumene). The leaves of the tree of life in the New Jerusalem were to serve for “the healing of nations.” Old Israel was no more. On Judgement Day, Christ sentenced the stiff-necked synagogue of Satan to spiritual death. Only a righteous remnant was left to carry the holy seed of Israel unto the nations. For almost two thousand years, every Christian nation adjured Jews within the realm to recognize their Redeemer, thus ending their age-old rebellion against God. In sharp contrast to the Jews, Anglo-Saxons eagerly entered into the new covenant world.
Attuned to racial and ethnic differences, kinists understand the powerful biocultural affinity between the early Christian church and the pagan tribes of Anglo-Saxon England as well as the prominent place occupied by covenants in tribal social structures. Conversely, once their churches downplayed the importance of blood covenants to the spiritual life of both family and nation, the ancestral attachment of Anglo-Saxon Protestants to the Body of Christ was bound to fade away. The creedal religion of the modern Anglican church denies that either faith or political allegiance is passed on through the blood of the large, partly-inbred extended family that constitutes the Anglo-Saxon ethny. No modernist “proposition nation” grounded in the universalist ideology of secular humanism, least of all the one abjuring its ethno-religious roots in the sacred blood and faith of the Old English people, can ever again be a holy nation in the eyes of God.
For kinists, the Christian nation rests upon a covenant, under God, between the dead, the living, and the unborn. The living members of the nation, according to R.J. Rushdoony, “see themselves as the trustees of the family blood, rights, property, name, and position for their lifetime. They have an inheritance from the past to be developed and preserved for the future.”
Royalty plays a central role in the bible story. Jesus the Christ traced his descent to King David. As the very model of an English David, Alfred the Great established a Christian kingdom in England. The hereditary monarch of the British dominions once served as trustee-in-chief for his realm. The ecclesiastical significance of the monarchy was given formal recognition when Henry VIII, his heirs, and successors were declared to be Supreme Governors of the Church of England. The Royal Supremacy played a significant role in the rise of the broad-church movement in Victorian England. It has since become little more than a mere manifestation of the shapeshifting Crown manipulated for its own ends by the (imperial cum globalist) government of the United Kingdom.
Anglican royalists should create an Angelcynn Network of ethno-religious activists to liberate the captive Crown in right of the Royal Supremacy. The Crown has become little more than a rubber stamp for corrupt politicians with no discernible interest in the spiritual welfare of Anglo-Saxons “at home” or in the diaspora. Once the Royal Supremacy over the Church of England has been insulated from political control, it should be extended to every reformed Angelcynn Church, not just in the United Kingdom, but throughout the British dominions as well. In time, it may become possible for the Crown to charter Angelcynn churches even among the Anglo-American remnant population in the failed American republic.
In the eighteenth century, Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke hoped that a Patriot King would re-awaken the English nation from its spiritual slumbers. The appearance of such a patriot prince would have been a miracle indeed. In our own time, it is doubly hard to imagine a British prince daring to stand against a government determined to maintain its control over the royal prerogative in ecclesiastical affairs. But, as Bolingbroke wrote, those who pray for such a deliverance must not neglect such means as are in their power “to keep the cause of reason, of virtue, and of liberty alive.” The blessing of a patriot prince might indeed “be withheld from us” but to “deserve at least that it be granted to us, let us prepare to receive it, to improve it, and to co-operate with it.”
Bolingbroke knew that were a patriot prince to campaign in defence of the monarchy, he would be subject to a raging torrent of criticism and abuse. Yet when a good prince is seen “to suffer with the people, and in some measure for them…many advantages would accrue to him.” For one thing, the cause of the British peoples generally “and his own cause would be made the same by their common enemies.”
What is the nature of that cause? In short, a patriot prince will call forth a spirit of resistance to both managerial statism and the abstract universalism of globalist plutocracy. He will do everything in his power to civilize those wild and immoral forces. But the appearance of a Patriot King is not inevitable. Indeed, only a people whose lost liberties are restored to memory will recognize his coming as an opportunity to reshape their allegedly preordained future.
The Idea of a Patriot King as Messianic Mythos
A postmodern neo-Angelcynn political theology could resurrect the hope of a nation re-born through the appearance of a genuinely godly Patriot King. A diasporic network of Angelcynn evangelists should work to ignite the mythos of a patriotic British monarch acting as Supreme Governor of their ancestral church throughout the Anglosphere.
Of course, as a matter of legal formality, the Queen already plays this role in England. Constitutional reality is quite otherwise; her role as head of the church has been usurped in practice by the Prime Minister. The Crown has been reduced to a rubber stamp. Pending the constitutional reformation of the ecclesiastical body politic, the Anglecynn Network must develop a political theology which conceives the existentially political friend-enemy distinction as constitutive of the relationships between Angelcynn peoples and other peoples or states (including “our own” states which now employ their power over us, in part, by admitting alien peoples, in huge numbers, to citizenship on equal terms with British-descended host populations).
In other words, an authentic, autochthonous, neo-Angelcynn political theology would understand the church as an ethno-religious institution safeguarding the ethnic interests, spiritual welfare and godly character of the British-descended peoples. The theological justification for such a church polity is essentially biblical. That is to say, that the Bible tells the story of a historical process of interaction between the divine, God, or Yahweh, (whichever name you prefer) and a particular people or nation; namely, the Israelites. That nation developed into a medium through which God manifested his real presence in the world.
Significantly, the Angelcynn people in the time of Alfred the Great modelled themselves on ancient Israel. During the Golden Age of the early church—the Age of Incarnation—the Angelcynn church was seen as the spiritual avatar of the emergent English nation, working in partnership with the king. That ethno-religious symbiosis of nation, church, and kingship was disrupted radically during the eleventh-century by the Norman Conquest and, shortly thereafter, by the Papal Revolution which created a church-state claiming jurisdiction over the whole of Christendom.
The old symbiosis was not, however, restored by the substitution of a state church for the Papal church-state during the Reformation. By that time, the Age of Disincarnation driven by the scholastic rationalism and legalistic absolutism of the papal church-state had all but eliminated the explicitly ethno-religious character of the English church. Anglican Protestantism became just another creedal religion, inevitably spawning countless doctrinal schisms down to the present day.
A genuinel y neo-Angelcynn political theology would aim to restore the spirit, if not the letter, of the original symbiosis between British-descended peoples, the church, and a British monarchy. Such a church might become capable of regenerating a Volksgeist serving as the seed-bed for the advent of an actual Patriot King of the sort envisioned by Viscount Bolingbroke in the eighteenth-century.
Under present circumstances, every once-proudly Anglo-Saxon country throughout the Anglosphere, is now subject to states which have reduced the WASP founding stock to a de facto stateless people. Both the globalist state and cosmopolitan Anglican churches embrace the multiculturalist program, according no special status or formal recognition to the British-descended peoples. The informal alliance between British states and Anglican churches has, in effect, transformed WASPs into an invisible race. That process was well underway by the early twentieth-century.
In retrospect, had an ethno-religious Angelcynn political theology existed as an autonomous force (i.e., one not bound hand and foot to the imperial state) during the first half of the twentieth century, church leaders might have recognized that the British and Dominion governments were acting in opposition to the best interests of the British peoples by twice declaring war on Germany.
Prior to 1914 or 1939, Germany did not conceive itself as an enemy of the British people. Both the Kaiser and Hitler declared themselves ready, willing, and able to recognize, defend, and co-operate with the governments and peoples of the British Empire. Indeed, in the late nineteenth century, many leading figures in both Britain and the United States (e.g., Cecil Rhodes, W.T. Stead, H.G. Wells, and Andrew Carnegie) not only promoted greater unity between the Anglo-Saxon nations but also believed that they should ally with their racial cousins in Germany. Accordingly, Rhodes included students from Germany as well as those from America and the Commonwealth in his famous scholarship program. Unfortunately, other, more powerful interests within the British state were determined (e.g., Winston Churchill, in both wars) to treat Germany as an enemy that must be destroyed (ideally by re-creating the fragmented statelets that existed prior to 1870).
Clearly, the idea of a Greater Britain withered away during and as a result of the world wars of the twentieth century. For a time, during the century-and-a-half following the American revolution, the Anglo-Saxon world developed a unique geopolitical personality. The Anglo-Saxon peoples anchored their collective identity in constitutional exoskeletons, creating a commonwealth of states sharing a common “British” civic identity. In all of those nations, civic identity has been progressively drained of ethno-religious meaning.
In the nineteenth century, the Church of England and its colonial, dissenting, and American offshoots endorsed a secularized “political theology of cosmopolitan nationalism”. Anglo-Catholics, evangelical Protestants, and Christian Zionists jointly hailed the ecumenical lordship of global Jesus while awaiting his return in power and glory at the end of history. What they didn’t expect was the First World War.
With the foundation of the Kaiserreich, however, the German Question reared its ugly head; it was not at all clear how the mercantile, thalassocratic ideal of cosmopolitan nationalism could be reconciled with telluric power of a militarized German Empire. Unfortunately, the Anglican political theology of cosmopolitan nationalism did not preclude the defeat and destruction of that Empire. Indeed, it eventually spawned the global hegemony of a godless, increasingly demonic, transnational corporate plutocracy.