Abstract
In the preface to this collection of 36 essays, Rubén Rosario Rodríguez argues that ‘political theology’ is distinguished from other types of theological discourse by ‘conscious reflection on what constitutes the most appropriate relationship between the state and the communities of faith living under the authority of the state’ (p. xx). I think this is inadequate. Political theology worth the name reflects on the relationship between the state and entire communities.
Rodríguez goes on to say that ‘the project was conceived as a snapshot of contemporary political theology through each scholar’s distinctive work’ (p. xxi). As a ‘snapshot’, it is one that uses a refreshingly wide-angle lens, since it includes essays written from a Jewish and Islamic perspective. It also includes the work of a number of promising younger scholars. The book is dedicated to the memory of James H. Cone, whose best-known work is A Black Theology of Liberation (1970), so it is no surprise that political theology comes into focus as by and large a liberationist undertaking. Despite 35 of the 39 contributors having posts in the United States, apart from a brief mention in essays on Reinhold Niebuhr and on ‘Orthodoxy and political theology’, there is little theological discussion of liberal democracy. The only extended discussion of John Rawls’ political liberalism comes in an essay on Augustine.
I tried to imagine giving this ‘handbook’ to students as an introduction to political theology. It would broaden the horizon of almost any reader, but it would need to be supplemented by more balanced coverage of the field. Part 2, for example, on ‘Scriptures and traditions: critical retrieval of historical sources’, offers an eclectic mix. After three essays on Jewish, Christian and Muslim Scriptures, there are essays on Augustine (of course), Thomas Becket, Bartolomé de Las Casas and the ‘Sixteenth-century reformations’. Nothing on Plato and Aristotle; nothing on Eusebius; nothing on Aquinas; nothing on Beveridge, Temple and the Welfare State. The index would be an irritant. I thought that there was nothing on ‘Anglicanism’ or ‘Richard Hooker’ as they are not indexed. Then I discovered a section covering both in an essay on ‘The political and legal legacy of the sixteenth-century reformations’. Other notable absentees from the index, though present in the text, include Martha Nussbaum, Michael Oakeshott and Jürgen Habermas. Five page references are given for apartheid (two of which refer to Israel), but there is no critical essay on the role played by theology in the creation and destruction of South African apartheid. The World Council of Churches, with its pioneering ecumenical work on ‘Justice, peace and the integrity of creation’, does not rate a mention.
Overall, I was left asking: if this is a ‘snapshot of contemporary political theology’, how many of the most important questions in the contemporary political arena does contemporary political theology actually address? These essays confront the many forms taken by injustice, inequality and marginalization and the exceptionalism assumed by powerful communities. There is, however, no sustained theological discussion of religious liberty, the rights of migrants, or of non-violent (let alone violent) direct action in response to the democratic and environmental crisis (think Hong Kong and Extinction Rebellion). Nor is there critical discussion of the reasons why populist leaders such as Trump and Bolsonaro have strong support among evangelical Christians. This is a book that contains some useful essays, but, for a balanced overview of the discipline, it should be read alongside the Wiley Blackwell Companion to Political Theology (2018) – and the forthcoming T&T Clark Reader in Political Theology (2020).