Islam, Iran, and the separation of church and state

Public debate surrounding the turmoil in Iran is increasing, and rightly so. Unfortunately, I have observed an increasing default to a tired conclusion, namely that religion itself represents a corrosive threat to political order and human dignity. And this, many claim, is why we need separation of church and state. Consequently, that phrase is being repeated with an air of settled wisdom, as though the matter has been resolved by the horrific footage of burning hijabs and bloodied Iranian streets.

Nevertheless, that confidence rests upon a profound category error. Iran demonstrates not the danger of religion in general in governance, but the danger of bad religion enthroned as political authority. Any serious comment and analysis must distinguish between theological systems that generate despotism by necessity and those that restrain power by revelation and design.

Islam occupies a unique category within the history of religions, particularly when evaluated through the lens of governance. Islam defines itself through submission to divine command, and the Arabic word “islam” literally signifies slavish submission. A Muslim is one who is a slave and who submits, and submission in this framework concerns adherence to Quranic law to the letter rather than participation in a living moral tradition. The primary source of Islamic authority remains the Qur’an, followed secondarily by the Hadith, which collectively forms an exhaustive and hardlined legal and moral code. Islam, therefore, understands itself as a religion of the book in the strictest sense, since faithfulness to Islam is measured by unwavering conformity to what Muhammad said and did.

Unlike Judaism and Christianity, Islam lacks a developed hereditary tradition capable of sustained moral and theological development across centuries. There exists no magisterium, no binding interpretive authority, and no organic doctrinal development comparable to rabbinic Judaism or the Christian tradition. In Judaism, centuries of rabbinic debate formed a vast oral law that allowed moral reasoning to interact with changing historical circumstances. In Christianity, ecclesial authority preserved doctrinal continuity while allowing prudential application within new and developing cultural contexts.

Islam, by contrast, resists such development by its own theological necessity, since the Qur’an is considered the eternal and uncreated word of God, thereby rendering reinterpretation as infidelity.

Consequently, claims about liberal Islam or peaceful Islam eventually collapse under definitional scrutiny. Alteration, reinterpretation, or contextual modification of Quranic mandates constitutes deviation rather than reform. Islamic jurisprudence historically recognizes this reality through the classification of apostasy, which carries severe penalties within classical Sharia. As Bernard Lewis observed in The Crisis of Islam (2003), in the classical Islamic polity, religion and state were fused, and the ruler was the executor of God’s law. This fusion is intrinsic, since Islamic theology locates sovereignty in absolute divine command, and the moral law is not accessible to human reason.

This theological structure inevitably produces political despotism every time it is attempted. A religion predicated upon a slave master and slave dynamic generates governance that mirrors that relationship. In all instances, authority commands, subjects comply, and dissent signifies rebellion against God Himself and is dealt with accordingly. Iran exemplifies this logic with tragic consistency. The Islamic Republic operates under clerical supremacy, where unelected jurists claim authority to interpret divine law for the entire population. Elections exist within carefully enforced boundaries, while morality police enforce religious compliance ubiquitously. Women bear the brunt of this system, since Islamic law encodes legal inequality between male and female as a Quranic divine ordinance.

Meanwhile, Western observers frequently insist that religion itself caused these atrocities, conveniently overlooking the distinct theological engine driving the violence. Such observers often fail to acknowledge that Islam never underwent a process analogous to the biblical separation between divine sovereignty and political authority. Jesus of Nazareth articulated this distinction with undeniable certitude when He declared, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mt 22:21). This statement transformed political theory, as He denied salvific authority to the state while affirming legitimate civil order simultaneously.

The Judeo-Christian tradition, from its earliest expressions, subjected political power to transcendent moral judgment. Ancient Israel represented a radical historical departure from Near Eastern political theology. Kings in Israel ruled under law and divine accountability rather than above it, or worse, by divinizing themselves. The prophets publicly confronted rulers for injustice, and covenant fidelity applied equally to shepherds and sovereign kings. Scripture declares, “By me kings reign, and rulers decree what is just” (Prov 8:15), thereby grounding authority in moral accountability to God in covenant rather than coercive military dominance.

Christianity elevated this moral vision by universalizing human dignity through the doctrine of the imago Dei and the redemptive work of the incarnation and paschal mysteries of Christ. Every person possesses inherent worth, since God created man and entered history as man. Political authority thus exists to serve the common good of all men, rather than serve itself or its own governing agendas. Augustine captured this insight in the City of God disarmingly when he noted that when justice is removed, what are kingdoms except great robberies? This theological, biblical, covenantal insight shaped Western legal and political development for centuries to this very day.

The American Founders stood firmly within this inheritance, despite modern caricatures suggesting otherwise. Thomas Jefferson famously referenced a wall of separation between church and state, yet his meaning diverged sharply from disingenuous contemporary secular interpretations. In his 1802 letter to the Danbury Baptists, Jefferson explained that the First Amendment prevented federal establishment of religion while protecting religious liberty from state interference. He simultaneously affirmed that rights flow from a Creator, writing in Notes on the State of Virginia, “God who gave us life, gave us liberty. Can the liberties of a nation be secure when we have removed a conviction that these liberties are the gift of God?”

Similarly, James Madison emphasized moral formation as essential to republican governance, writing, “We have staked the whole future of American civilization on the capacity of each and all of us to govern ourselves according to the moral principles of the Ten Commandments.” George Washington echoed this conviction in his Farewell Address, asserting that “religion and morality are indispensable supports” of political prosperity.

These men feared tyranny born of unchecked power and lauded faith shaping public conscience. They understood that a free society requires virtuous citizens formed by transcendent moral law. Government without moral accountability degenerates into either technocratic despotism or ideological coercion, a lesson confirmed repeatedly throughout modern history.

Scripture reinforces this framework by affirming civil authority while warning rulers of divine judgment. The Apostle Paul teaches, “There is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” (Rom 13:1), while simultaneously insisting that rulers exist to reward good and restrain evil. Hence, authority loses legitimacy when it abandons this purpose, since moral law precedes political power.

Iran does serve as a cautionary tale regarding theological absolutism, but we should not be so historically ignorant that it is phrased as a critique of religious participation in public life. The Islamic regime enforces domination by grounding authority in Allah’s immutable command, completely divorced from moral reciprocity and the moral agency of the public. Western secularism, for all its pretensions, often replicates this structure by replacing divine command with ideological orthodoxy enforced through administrative power. In both cases, the human person becomes subject rather than citizen.

By contrast, the Judeo-Christian framework has produced the most expansive vision of ordered liberty and human flourishing in recorded history. Hospitals, universities, charitable institutions, and legal protections for the vulnerable emerged organically from Christian anthropology. Historian Harold Berman, in Law and Revolution (1983), observed that the Western legal tradition is a secularization of Christian beliefs about sin, redemption, and covenant. These fruits remain, nonetheless, historically unmatched.

The Church’s position remains clear and consistent. She rejects theocracy and secularism alike, insisting upon religious liberty grounded in human dignity and moral truth. Faith forms conscience, conscience informs citizenship, and Christ remains Lord of history without wielding the sword of Caesar. Jesus reigns through truth and sacrifice rather than coercion.

Therefore, the separation of church and state retains legitimacy only when understood properly. Bad religion must remain separated from political authority, since it enslaves rather than liberates. Government must be restrained from imposing its will on the free exercise of faith and religion. And good religion must inform public life, since it restrains power and elevates the human person.

Iran is a reminder to the world of what happens when theology is used to undergird domination. The Gospel of Jesus Christ proclaims a different kingdom, one that transforms rulers and subjects alike by centering history upon Jesus Christ, the true King whose law is written upon the heart.