by Scott Douglas Jacobsen and Irina Tsukerman
How does Irina Tsukerman distinguish civic nationalism from Christian nationalism and grievance-based identity politics in the United States and Ukraine?
Irina Tsukerman is a human rights and national security attorney based in New York and Connecticut. She earned her Bachelor of Arts in National and Intercultural Studies and Middle East Studies from Fordham University in 2006, followed by a Juris Doctor from Fordham University School of Law in 2009. She operates a boutique national security law practice. She serves as President of Scarab Rising, Inc., a media and security strategic advisory firm. Additionally, she is the Editor-in-Chief of The Washington Outsider, which focuses on foreign policy, geopolitics, security, and human rights. She is actively involved in several professional organizations, including the American Bar Association’s Energy, Environment, and Science and Technology Sections, where she serves as Program Vice Chair in the Oil and Gas Committee. She is also a member of the New York City Bar Association. She serves on the Middle East and North Africa Affairs Committee and affiliates with the Foreign and Comparative Law Committee.
Scott Douglas Jacobsen interviews Irina Tsukerman on nationalism, Christian nationalism, and wartime identity in the United States and Ukraine. Tsukerman distinguishes civic nationalism from ethnocentric and grievance-based identity politics, arguing that healthy nationalism supports pluralism, constitutional principles, and shared civic values. She warns that MAGA-style politics often contradict claims about sovereignty, borders, and self-determination, especially in relation to Ukraine’s resistance to Russian aggression. The conversation also examines the political use of religion, with Tsukerman arguing that Christian nationalism often functions as a cynical instrument of mobilization, power, and cultural control rather than as an expression of sincere theological commitment.
Scott Douglas Jacobsen: I am currently posted independently in Kyiv, Ukraine. In conversations with Ukrainian colleagues, a comparison emerged. In the North American context, when we speak of nationalism, some people—especially those outside the dominant group—may associate it with white nationalism or white Christian nationalism, which appears in certain U.S. contexts. As a result, nationalism carries a different tone and definition. In U.S. politics, overt “patriot” branding tends to be more closely associated with Republicans than Democrats, though it appears across the political spectrum.
In the Ukrainian sphere, terms such as nationalist and ultranationalist are often used differently. Nationalist does not necessarily carry the same negative connotation it can carry in North America; it more often aligns with patriot. In a wartime context, much of the country—particularly in Central and Western Ukraine—has unified around the Ukrainian language and national identity.
Ultranationalist marks a divergence. It may refer to xenophobic or exclusionary nationalism, or to an exaggerated, performative kind of patriotism. It can also be connected to civilian self-defense and training under martial law and wartime conditions. Context shapes its meaning.
How do you assess nationalism in contemporary American discourse during the second year of the Trump administration, and in Ukraine’s wartime context? You may also add your Ukrainian background as context.
Irina Tsukerman: When I moved from Ukraine to the United States, it took time to understand that nationalism, as I understood it, was often viewed negatively. Ethnocentric “blood-and-soil” nationalism—historically prevalent in parts of Europe—was widely seen as un-American and as harmful to minorities, democratic pluralism, and liberal values. It was treated as an undesirable historical phase that can evolve into extreme identity-based politics.
The United States, by contrast, was pluralistic from an early stage of its colonial history. The territory that later became the United States included English colonies along the Atlantic seaboard, Dutch settlements such as New Netherland, and French colonial presence in parts of North America. Spain also controlled territories that would later become parts of the United States, particularly in Florida and the Southwest. Enslaved people were brought primarily from West and Central Africa. Jewish communities formed early as well, including communities with origins in Western Europe and the Atlantic world. Diverse groups coexisted long before independence and before the constitutional system that has been in operation since 1789.
Nationalism becomes problematic when it merges with grievance-based identity politics. When grievance shapes national identity, tensions intensify. Nationalism is most constructive when it strengthens communities, unites people around shared civic values and goals, and supports diverse cultures within a common civic framework.
It is essentially a federalist outlook. There is an overarching national identity, but individuals and communities remain free to maintain their ethnic, cultural, religious, or political identities. Problems arise when that outlook is no longer grounded in shared values, objectives, constitutional principles, and rights-based frameworks, but instead becomes defined exclusively by identity. When nationalism is reduced to identity alone, those who do not fit the preferred mold are treated as outsiders.
If people are already established in a country—integrated into governance and civic life—and are told they do not belong because someone else demands loyalty oaths, overt ideological displays, or xenophobic and supremacist undertones, that becomes dangerous. Europe’s history offers examples. The continent endured centuries of imperial rivalries, including conflicts such as the Thirty Years’ War and, later, two world wars. In the twentieth century, aggressive nationalist movements and rigid identity politics contributed to border changes, ethnic displacement, and recurring crises. Waves of populism have periodically destabilized European politics as well.
In my view, incorporating rigid identitarian elements into national identity is destabilizing. For many years, the United States distinguished itself from Europe by embracing a more civic model of nationhood. It allowed greater liberty and coexistence among diverse identities and ideologies within a constitutional framework. That flexibility was a strength.
It is therefore ironic that while some American political movements criticize Europe and the European Union for perceived weaknesses—such as immigration policy or ideological extremism—the United States is simultaneously adopting rhetoric that resembles Europe at some of its most volatile historical moments. The U.S. Constitution and the principles articulated in the Declaration of Independence created a civic model rooted in law rather than ethnicity. Yet certain MAGA, Christian nationalist, or National Conservative ideologues promote a form of identity-centered nationalism that echoes European ethno-nationalist traditions.
The United States differs from many European states in scale, population, economic power, and military capacity. However, those advantages alone cannot sustain national cohesion. A stable economy and effective military depend on shared purpose rather than ethnic or religious uniformity. If internal divisions harden into factions, morale and cohesion erode.
There is also an inconsistency in the rhetoric of some American nationalist movements. If the goal is a healthy nationalism grounded in sovereignty, cultural distinctiveness, and self-determination, then Ukraine’s resistance to Russian aggression would appear to align with those stated principles. Ukraine is resisting an expansionist ideology often described by its proponents as “Eurasianist,” which seeks to reassert Russian geopolitical dominance. From that perspective, Ukraine’s defense of its language, culture, and political independence would logically resonate with advocates of national self-determination.
The tension arises when rhetoric about sovereignty and cultural preservation does not consistently translate into support for other nations pursuing those same aims.
It is striking that many Republicans who align with Trump on this issue do not acknowledge the parallels between their stated commitments—strong borders, sovereignty, resistance to foreign influence—and Ukraine’s position in defending its territorial integrity against external aggression.
At the same time, it is not only the concept of nationalism that has shifted in the United States, and in several European countries that have become increasingly pluralistic over time. It is reasonable to argue that when individuals openly disregard a host country’s laws, abuse asylum systems, or engage in criminal or coercive behavior, those actions should not be tolerated. Most rational observers would agree that security risks and human rights violations deserve attention. Addressing concrete abuses through lawful, proportionate measures is legitimate.
The problem arises when specific risks are replaced by sweeping generalizations that frame entire groups in black-and-white terms. That approach distorts reality and fuels division. It suggests that what has changed is not only the meaning of nationalism, but also what segments of the public seek from society.
There appears to be a disconnect between what some political actors claim to want—strong borders, cultural continuity, merit-based standards—and how they apply those principles in practice. If sovereignty and national self-determination are universal goods, the inconsistency in supporting them selectively raises questions. It suggests that, for some, political identity may be tied less to abstract principles of nationalism and more to loyalty to a particular leader or movement.
There are also internal contradictions within the MAGA coalition. During national campaigns, Trump presented different messages about nationalism to different constituencies. He criticized Democrats for allegedly instrumentalizing minority groups while asserting that Republicans judge individuals on merit. At the same time, elements within his political orbit have amplified racially charged narratives and conspiracy theories. Instances of inflammatory social media content have reinforced perceptions of inconsistency between rhetoric and conduct.
These contradictions contribute to a fragmented political identity. The gap between rhetoric and action, and between stated goals and observable behavior, creates confusion. A nation without a broadly shared direction or coherent civic identity becomes more vulnerable to polarization and manipulation. As confusion deepens, segments of the public may become increasingly susceptible to misinformation and simplistic narratives that promise clarity but undermine cohesion.
Jacobsen: In the United States, nationalist movements are sometimes conflated with ethnic supremacy, sometimes with religious supremacy, and sometimes with both. I see far less of that dynamic in Ukraine, though I am less familiar with its cultural history. In the United States, this rhetoric appears at high levels of politics and is sometimes tied to military identity.
For example, representatives of organizations such as the Military Religious Freedom Foundation, founded by Mikey Weinstein, have alleged ongoing pressure within parts of the armed forces to participate in events perceived as endorsing Christian nationalist themes. Whether one agrees with every claim, the broader issue of religion intersecting with military culture is debated publicly in the United States. In that sense, the scale of the phenomenon appears more pronounced there.
Does this represent a real-world case of political actors fusing religious and national identity for strategic purposes? Is the blending of religious rhetoric with political identity sometimes less about theology and more about mobilizing support, regardless of personal sincerity?
Tsukerman: If we criticize Islamist movements for instrumentalizing religious rhetoric to consolidate political control, we should apply the same standard to any movement that uses religion to advance political power. What is often described as Christian nationalism today reflects a political use of religious language, selective interpretation, and symbolic appeals to mobilize constituencies.
In many cases, the shift appears tied to contemporary political incentives rather than to long-term theological development. Some figures promoting this rhetoric did not emphasize these themes a decade or more ago. The abrupt change suggests responsiveness to shifting political currents, including grievance narratives—such as claims of cultural marginalization—that have proven effective in energizing segments of the electorate.
There are also individuals who are not deeply religious but align themselves with these movements for reasons of belonging, career advancement, or political expediency. Social and professional incentives can encourage conformity, particularly in polarized environments. That dynamic complicates efforts to distinguish between sincere religious conviction and strategic political positioning.
I say “supposedly” because sincere religious conversion is possible. However, when individuals suddenly become highly active in media and political circles that reward a particular religious identity, and when there is no clear explanation for the shift, it is reasonable to question whether the change reflects deep conviction or strategic rebranding.
I have observed several high-profile figures publicly embrace Christianity at moments when doing so expanded their audience, strengthened their alliances, and increased their visibility. Public religious identification can provide access, legitimacy within certain movements, and alignment with what is culturally or politically ascendant at a given time.
Take J.D. Vance, for example, who converted to Catholicism and has expressed views aligned with strands of Catholic integralism—the belief that Catholic doctrine should play a central role in shaping political authority. Whether such commitments reflect sustained theological engagement or political positioning is difficult to assess from the outside. Serious engagement with Catholic intellectual tradition requires substantial study, and public rhetoric alone does not necessarily demonstrate depth.
Jacobsen: Thank you again for your time.
Scott Douglas Jacobsen is a contributor to The Washington Outsider. He is the Founder and Publisher of In-Sight Publishing (ISBN: 978–1–0692343; 978–1–0673505) and Editor-in-Chief of In-Sight: Interviews (ISSN: 2369–6885). He writes for International Policy Digest (ISSN: 2332–9416), The Humanist (Print: ISSN, 0018–7399; Online: ISSN, 2163–3576), Basic Income Earth Network (UK Registered Charity 1177066), Humanist Perspectives (ISSN: 1719–6337), A Further Inquiry (SubStack), Vocal, Medium, The Good Men Project, The New Enlightenment Project, The Washington Outsider, rabble.ca, and other media. His bibliography index can be found via the Jacobsen Bank at In-Sight Publishing comprised of more than 10,000 articles, interviews, and republications, in more than 200 outlets. He has served in national and international leadership roles within humanist and media organizations, held several academic fellowships, and currently serves on several boards. He is a member in good standing in numerous media organizations, including the Canadian Association of Journalists, PEN Canada (CRA: 88916 2541 RR0001), Reporters Without Borders (SIREN: 343 684 221/SIRET: 343 684 221 00041/EIN: 20–0708028), and others.