Renewed interest in Reinhold Niebuhr, the foremost public theologian of the 20th century, is a welcome development. This so-called “Niebuhr renaissance” hit full stride following a 2008 interview with then-Senator Barack Obama in which he identified Niebuhr as “one of [his] favorite philosophers.” Since then, Niebuhr's acolytes, old and new, have parsed President Obama's speeches and policies for signs of the theologian's influence, an exercise that has been complicated by the fact that Obama has had relatively little to say about Niebuhr since assuming the presidency.

R. Ward Holder and Peter B. Josephson deserve credit for turning a subject of speculation into a serious academic study in The Irony of Barack Obama: Barack Obama, Reinhold Niebuhr and the Problem of Christian Statecraft. The irony to which Holder and Josephson aptly point is that Niebuhr's influence on President Obama, when judged on the basis of actions rather than rhetoric, is inconclusive at best. Indeed, the work's most original contribution is an explanation of how President Obama's signature domestic achievements represent a significant divergence from Niebuhr's thought.

A widely acknowledged feature of the Obama administration has been its confidence in the ability of the federal government to influence individuals' behavior or “nudge” them to undertake certain actions. Behind this philosophy of government, as Holder and Josephson correctly diagnose, is a “love affair with social science” and a belief that its disciplines can be marshaled to solve even the most intractable of humanity's problems (14). Such confidence in the social sciences was anathema to Niebuhr, who would react strongly against the modern idea that behavioral economists can account for human nature in all its fullness and freedom. In Niebuhr's estimation, our sinful nature renders us unable to achieve the objectivity required for an impartial assessment of the world in which we live. Our innate freedom, as Holder and Josephson explain, should give caution to “the arrogant idea that history and society are within our capacity to control, that human beings may be predicted and governed precisely” (14).

If the basis for much of the Obama administration's domestic policy runs counter to Niebuhr's beliefs, Holder and Josephson correctly identify the theologian's influence in the president's rhetoric on foreign affairs, especially his 2009 Nobel Prize Speech. Awarded the prize for the clean break he supposedly represented from his predecessor, President Obama surprised the world by using language more associated with George W. Bush: “Evil does exist in this world,” President Obama remarked. “To say that force may sometimes be necessary is not a call to cynicism — it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.” Obama then tempered this clarion call with the contrite acknowledgement that “… we are fallible. We make mistakes, and fall victim to the temptations of pride, and power and sometimes evil” (“A Just and Lasting Peace,” Nobel lecture, Oslo, Norway, December 10, 2009).

Although Niebuhr was not mentioned by name, his theological vision permeates the speech. Best expressed in shorthand by the phrase “in the battle and above it,” Niebuhr held that the highest ideal for a Christian was to “… defend a cause against its peril … to defend justice against injustice” while also “understand[ing] how imperfect the cause is which we defend … that we recognize the common humanity which binds us to even the most terrible of foes” (“In the Battle and Above It,” Christianity and Society 7 [1942]: 3). It was this orientation that governed Niebuhr's writings throughout World War II and the Cold War era, when his influence was at its peak.

While Holder and Josephson identify Niebuhr's fingerprints on other speeches by President Obama, they find slim evidence of the theologian's influence in the administration's actual policies. The notable exception is the 2011 United States intervention in Libya, given the country's “use of power for a moral purpose” combined with “a sobriety of expectations” (14). The obvious question is what Niebuhr would make of President Obama's recent indecision regarding the “use of power for a moral purpose” in the case of Syria, an ongoing conflict that intensified following the book's publication.

Obama's difficulty in channeling Niebuhr's message into policy leads Holder and Josephson to draw broader conclusions about the challenges of Christian statecraft. First, claiming the mantle of John Rawls, they argue that Christians must translate religious motivations into universal values in today's pluralistic society. The authors correctly assert that Niebuhr himself went to great lengths to render his theological vision accessible to non-believers. Second, they label Niebuhr's Christianity, with its emphasis on sin, as “too bitter for the American populace,” thus rendering it of limited utility to elected politicians (185).

What Holder and Josephson fail to acknowledge is, in the case of Niebuhr, these two observations are related. Belying his dour reputation, Niebuhr's theological writings, especially Beyond Tragedy and Discerning the Signs of the Times, are remarkably uplifting tracts, imbued with Christian hope derived from the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Niebuhr's more political tracts are propelled by his theological vision but can lack the verve and fullness of meaning found in his religious works, as a result of the “translation” process Holder and Johnson describe. Indeed, Niebuhr, in Discerning, was clear that despair and bitterness were the logical reactions to the incongruities of history absent a governing faith. He explained that either “… we are able to say, ‘I am persuaded that neither death nor life … shall be able to separate us from the Love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord,’ or we are overwhelmed by the incongruity ...” (Discerning the Signs of the Times: Sermons for Today and Tomorrow [1946]: 113).

Had Niebuhr been more explicit about the Christian beliefs that underpinned his political writings, it is likely that he would not be so widely embraced by people of all religious and political backgrounds today. That said, a full understanding of Niebuhr's theology — including his belief in Christian hope in addition to human despair — would allow for a more authentic model for the candidate of hope and change to follow. Whether this more nuanced reception of Niebuhr would result in immediate changes is unlikely given the diffuse nature of policy-making today. Rather the benefit to a president deeply concerned with his legacy of his actions could be one of greater perspective. The enduring challenge Niebuhr left his followers was to develop “a faith which understands the fragmentary and broken character of historic achievements and yet has the confidence in their meaning, because it knows their completion to be in the hands of a Divine Power” (The Children of Light and the Children of Darkness: A Vindication of Democracy and a Critique of its Traditional Defense [1945]: 128).