I remember the first time I heard the term “empire.” It was when I read anti-imperial literature written by revolutionaries who defended my home, the Philippines, from Western domination. I learned from their witness that empire is a structure of sin. I also learned from fellow Filipino Christians that if one calls themselves a “disciple of Jesus,” imperial power must be concretely challenged and resisted, as it does not cohere with the way of Jesus.
A shorthand for “imperial power” among social justice Christians is the term “empire.” When Christians use this term, we are not just describing a historical structure of domination, but we are comparing and contrasting the politics of empire with the kingdom of God (Matthew 5:3-12; 20:25-26).
Empire is not simply a problem that we face today in the 21st century. Jesus and his early followers were also intimately familiar with imperial power. We know that Jesus was born at the margins of the Roman Empire, and that he was eventually executed on a cross as an enemy of the empire. His disciples, who continued his mission, also endured persecution and capital punishment. According to the book of Acts, Jesus’ disciples were accused of “turning the world upside down” and proclaiming that Jesus should be worshipped instead of the Roman emperor (17:6-7).
But in plain language, what does it mean to invoke the word “empire,” and why do some Christians find it useful?
Practically speaking, social justice Christians typically use the term “empire” when critiquing the politics of Western nations, which have historically relied on racism, militarism, and wealth to build power.
Across a variety of historical periods, theological convictions, and social contexts, Christians have sought to define, critique, and offer alternatives to empire.
In 2004, in Accra, Ghana, the World Alliance of Reformed Churches created the Accra Confession. This confession defined empire as “the coming together of economic, cultural, political and military power that constitutes a system of domination led by powerful nations to protect and defend their own interests.” In this way, the Accra Confession names “empire” as a global material structure that has caused worldwide economic injustice and massive ecological destruction: “This is a global system that defends and protects the interests of the powerful. It affects and captivates us all.”
As such, Accra reminds Christians that empire must be condemned because the whole of creation does not belong to imperial powers to be exploited, but only to God, who desires the full restoration of creation. For the authors of the Accra Confession, empire-language is useful in that it names a global system of domination, which they argue runs contrary to God’s call for justice and peace.
Christian confessional critiques of imperial domination are not unique to Accra. In 1934, anti-Nazi Christians like the German-Swiss theologian Karl Barth penned the Barmen Declaration. This declaration became the model for many of the anti-imperial confessions that came after it. For adherents of the Barmen Declaration, Christians solely belonged to Jesus Christ, which required them to reject any other “special leaders” (noted as “Führer” in the document).
Through both Barmen and Accra, one can begin to see how Christians throughout history have understood imperial powers as opponents of God’s redemptive work in the world. In the Barmen Declaration, Hitler’s Nazi regime opposes the mission of the church “to deliver all people, through preaching and sacrament, the message of the free grace of God.” Likewise, as expressed at Accra, the present imperialism of the global economy is itself contrary to God’s vision of a church that stands “with those who are victims of injustice.” In both cases, imperial power seeks to usurp the authority of God in the life of the church. It is the Christian’s responsibility to reject imperial domination and be discipled in the way of Jesus, which promotes peace, justice, and reconciliation rather than the way of empire, which accumulates power through violence, exploitation, and domination.
Another way that Christians have understood empire is through the lens of racism and white supremacy. For the authors of the Belhar Confession of 1986, Christians cannot compromise on matters of racism. Racism is the deadly work of worldly powers and principalities, and it cannot be ascribed to God as holiness or righteousness in ways that many Euro-American Christians have done throughout the history of Euro-American imperialism. The Belhar Confession asserts that Christians must reject any effort that “sanctions in the name of the gospel or of the will of God the forced separation of people on the grounds of race and color[.]” This is because Christians belong to a God who is “the one who wishes to bring about justice and true peace among people.”
In contrast, for some American Christians, God’s will fully coheres with imperial aims. The leaders of the empire are divinely appointed and anointed to carry out God’s plan on Earth. Office of Management and Budget director Russell Vought aligns with this movement, explaining that “We are Christians who are nationalists. We are people who believe that we have a Christian nation.”
For some Christians, imperial power is the manifestation of the heavenly kingdom on earth. These Christians believe that God’s mission and the empire’s mission are one and the same.
READ MORE: Praying the Imprecatory Psalms in the Age of Empire
Notably, many colonized and oppressed Christians have found such collaboration with imperial forces to be at odds with the kingdom of God.
The 2009 Kairos Document, which was written by a group of Palestinian Christians, argues that empire is not something to be lauded but opposed because it is powered by colonialism and genocide. Similar to the Barmen Declaration, Kairos Palestine grounds its anti-imperial convictions in a confessional statement: “We believe in a good and just God, who loves each one of his creatures.” The statement asserts that the church’s mission is to “speak the word of God courageously” and stand with the oppressed, “just as Christ our Lord stood by the side of each poor person and each sinner[.]”
The theological and ethical imperatives of the Kairos Document resonate with the Barmen Declaration by emphasizing that it is the Christian’s task to distinguish between God’s kingdom and worldly imperialism: “religion cannot favour or support any unjust political regime, but must rather promote justice, truth and human dignity.” Empire, in this regard, is condemned through confession of God’s sovereignty over all creation and thus, God’s desire to see all creatures flourish.
Some push back on the temptation to call everything we dislike “imperial.” Historian Frederick Cooper argues that when scholars trace present-day injustice directly to imperialism, they risk turning “empire” into a category so vast it explains everything and therefore explains nothing.
Other critics insist that some forms of violence cannot be folded neatly into the language of empire at all. Anti-Blackness names a persistent racial condition that exceeds the logic of coloniality. Cisheteropatriarchy names gender-based violence that anti-imperial movements have themselves reproduced. Settler colonialism names a specific structure of eliminating Indigenous peoples that gets blurred when “imperialism” becomes a catch-all phrase. Capitalism is an economic system that exploits labor power to extract endless profit. The point of these critiques is not to deny that empire exists, but to insist on naming the specific shape of each injustice—so that anti-Black, queer, Indigenous, and anti-capitalist struggles are not absorbed into a single term that flattens their particularity.
The warning is fair. But from my perspective, I find empire-language appealing because it carries theological significance. Empire is a spiritual condition in which anti-Blackness, cisheteropatriarchy, settler colonialism, and capitalism are all present. The Apostle Paul writes: “our struggle is not against blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). The late theologian Walter Wink understood these powers and principalities not as mere metaphors, but as the inner spirituality of structures—the ideological, cultural, and spiritual life of empire itself. To name empire theologically is thus to insist that what we struggle against is not only a system of global powers, militaries, and economies, but the very spirit that animates them from within.
To name empire theologically is thus to insist that what we struggle against is not only a system of global powers, militaries, and economies, but the very spirit that animates them from within.
Using this theological framework, “empire” is a global system of domination that is rooted in deep moral and spiritual corruption. It is not just a political-economic problem, but a deeply theological and spiritual one.
Yanan (or Abdul) is a theologian from the Philippines. He writes about Christian radical politics, and his writing has appeared in BitterSweet Monthly, Interfaith America, the Institute for Christian Socialism, and other outlets.
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