Fear is a Factor
Trump’s Political Success is based on a Fear-Centered Theology (as his downfall will be)
Db of all my Substack essays (as of 11/25/ 25) and other stuff
Fear emerges from a coordinated cascade of neural activity that rapidly shifts the brain into a defensive state. When a potential threat is detected—whether through a sudden sound, a looming shape, or even an internal memory—the sensory information is routed simultaneously to two pathways: a fast, crude route to the amygdala and a slower, more detailed route to the cortex. The amygdala acts as the brain’s alarm system, firing before conscious interpretation. Its activation triggers heightened activity in the hypothalamus and brainstem, which mobilize the autonomic nervous system.
As this system ramps up, the sympathetic branch increases heart rate, respiration, and blood pressure, preparing the body for action. Neurotransmitters such as glutamate surge within the amygdala, strengthening threat-related signaling, while stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol are released through the HPA axis. These hormones sharpen attention, enhance memory encoding, and suppress non‑essential processes like digestion.
Meanwhile, the prefrontal cortex—responsible for reasoning and regulation—temporarily reduces its influence, allowing instinctive responses to dominate. The hippocampus contributes contextual information, helping the brain determine whether the threat is familiar or novel. Together, these shifts create the subjective experience of fear: heightened vigilance, narrowed focus, and a body primed for rapid response.
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Fear Factor: House of Fear is a new reboot of the long‑running gross‑out competition series (now hosted by Johnny Knoxville). The show premiered January 14 on Fox and introduces a major twist. Instead of rotating casts, all 14 contestants live together under one roof for the entire season: creating a Big Brother‑style social game layered on top of the franchise’s signature stunts. The reboot keeps the classic formula—terrifying physical challenges, creepy‑crawly encounters, and extreme endurance tests—but adds season‑long alliances, betrayals, and interpersonal conflict. The trailer highlights maggots, electrocution, ice baths, deep‑water drops, and contestants vacuum‑sealed in plastic. Only one player will win the full $200,000 prize, making this version more competitive and chaotic than past iterations.
I have been following politics since the 1970’s (when I was in HS). Up until 2015, it was about two competing ideologies. Now, it an ideology (liberal) and a ad hoc mix of conspiracy theory and a roiling mix of racism, misogyny and the like. The chaos exists to elevate the fortunes of one man (who is view as messianic figure by millions of people). Donald Trump has turned contemporary politics into an endless reality show were the players – ranging from media figures to politicians – can die horribly at the hands of a psychotic MAGA Mob that was ginned up by a lunatic.
I haven’t seen the reboot. And…to be honest…I have no intention to watch it. I find this stuff to be incredibly stupid. But…here’s the thing. Trump was never about ideas. He is about fear:
1) Trump – at his most primal level – is driven by fear.
2) His supporters…same.
3) Many people who want to stop the madness are afraid to do so.
While I largely disagreed with Reagan’s ideas, he had them. He was not a font of buzz words meant to confuse and intimidate.
Historically, politics has been about a discussion of ideas. While I tend to disapprove of Reagan’s legacy, he was about goals and ideas. Trump is not. He is irrational. His supporters are irrational. This irrationality is based in fear. This gives a dark reality-show quality to current events. This takes me back to the Fear Factor spinoff that I have not seen…nor – in all likelihood – ever will.
I watch streaming fare. The stuff that I like is cleaver story telling: Netflix’s Wednesday and Stranger Things being two examples. Reality shows are manipulative s---(putting me in mind of Nazi propaganda). Even if I cared about these people on-screen, they are tropes not – as is presented – real people. I suspect that they are simply actors that cast to certain types. The end result is scripted. Perhaps the actors are doing improv, but they are playing off a story outline.
Reality shows are often structured similarly to scripted television, with outlines that detail the premise, tone, characters, and episode descriptions. The process of creating a reality show involves outlining the show’s structure, pitch, and format style. The outline process is crucial for ensuring that the show’s content is coherent and engaging for viewers. They are not – and this is what many viewers think – spontaneous stories.
Viewers think that what they are watching is real. People tend to be stupid, and popular culture is making them even more so. Yes…this partially explains the Trump phenomenon.
Nazi propaganda under Joseph Goebbels deliberately amplified deep‑seated anxieties within German society: transforming diffuse cultural insecurities into a unified sense of existential threat.
One major theme was the supposed erosion of “racial identity.” Propaganda framed modernity, urban cosmopolitanism, and especially Jewish influence as forces dissolving the purity and continuity of the German Volk. This fear of cultural dilution made the promise of racial restoration feel urgent and redemptive.
Goebbels also exploited anxieties about masculinity and Christian moral order. Nazi messaging portrayed Germany’s defeat in World War I, economic instability, and social liberalization as evidence that traditional manhood had been weakened. By claiming that foreign ideas and “degenerate” influences endangered Christian sexuality and family life, propaganda positioned Nazism as the only force capable of restoring moral strength and patriarchal stability.
Finally, the Treaty of Versailles was depicted not merely as a political humiliation but as a deliberate attempt by external enemies to annihilate German culture. Goebbels framed reparations, territorial losses, and military restrictions as proof that the world sought to erase Germany’s rightful place in history.
By weaving these fears together—racial dissolution, moral collapse, and cultural destruction—Nazi propaganda created a narrative in which only total loyalty to the regime could ensure national survival.
Variants of those three existential fears are at the heart of MAGA.
The rise of MAGA politics mirrors this rise of Nazism in the 1920s-1930’s. Power was consolidated by elevating latent cultural anxieties into a cohesive sense of existential peril.
MAGA found fertile ground within a segment of the American electorate shaped by a theocratic or quasi‑theocratic worldview: communities faced rapid social change as a threat to religious authority, traditional gender roles, and national identity blossomed. The far‑right media ecosystem played a central role in transforming these diffuse concerns into a unified narrative of cultural siege.
Outlets such as Fox News, Newsmax, and OAN constructed a storyline in which the political left was framed not simply as an ideological opponent but as a force intent on dismantling the moral and cultural foundations of the country. Coverage frequently emphasized themes of declining religious freedom, attacks on “traditional values,” and the erosion of national identity through demographic and cultural change. By presenting social policies, academic discourse, and protest movements as coordinated assaults on faith, family, and patriotism, these platforms helped cultivate a sense of emergency. At the same time, fact-based criticism was discounted
MAGA politics grew by channeling these amplified fears into a singular narrative: that only unwavering political loyalty could prevent an imminent cultural collapse.
You cannot think about current politics as being a clash of ideas.
When I was in HS, I remember reading columnist George Will: a very capable writer and Reagan surrogate. While I disagreed with both him and Reagan, there were compelling arguments on the other side. Honestly, I enjoyed thinking about it. Not now. Trump is a paranoid narcissist and everything that he says is deluded garbage…racist and misogynistic bilge.
He only has power because a significant block of the voting public has the same garbage brains. Other Trump voters support him out of willful ignorance.
It is from this perspective that you must look at the current government.
Trump is a psycho.
Or – being more creative and elegant – a reality show villain.
The process of creating a reality show villain involves several factors that contribute to their perception as antagonists.
The villain is the driving force behind telling a story. His actions and motivations are often crafted to fit a narrative, making them more compelling and relatable to the audience.
In this case of Trump’s story, the outcome has not been predetermined. A reasonable person knows how the thing shouldn’t end: the US hopefully will not fully turn into a dictatorship (run by a madman) or the planet will hopefully not be destroyed by thermonuclear war. But this is a story that is unfolding in an unpredictable fashion.
Also, the way that a villain’s character is edited and presented on screen can significantly impact their perceived villainy.
Social media algorithms increasingly prioritize engagement over inclusivity: this produces echo chambers that reinforce users’ emotional and ideological identities. These spaces cluster people who share the same underlying biases—such as support for Christian Nationalism—fundamentally rooted in anger, fear, or prejudice. By amplifying emotionally charged content, algorithms trigger strong reactions and generate filter bubbles that spread misinformation while suppressing meaningful dialogue.
Designed to maximize engagement, these systems repeatedly expose users to similar viewpoints, deepening ideological rigidity and emotional identification. Such environments discourage critical thinking and reduce exposure to diverse perspectives. As users interact with provocative material, the algorithm intensifies its visibility, creating a feedback loop that normalizes misinformation and prejudice. This dynamic becomes especially dangerous when it concentrates individuals around emotionally driven ideologies like Christian Nationalism, fueling division and weakening inclusive, democratic discourse.
The “editing process” is further skewed towards the villain’s favor by media outlets that too often give Trump a pass. This is being exasperated by Trump’s FCC that is bitch-slapping it into submission.
FCC Chair Brendan Carr has rapidly become one of the most powerful figures in President Trump’s campaign against media critics.
Although Trump appointed Carr while calling him a “warrior for Free Speech,” Carr has instead used the FCC to investigate nearly every major broadcast network that has criticized or satirized the president. The only major outlet spared is Fox, though Trump has separately sued its parent company. Carr has aligned his investigations with Trump’s private lawsuits, and networks such as ABC and CBS have settled cases rather than fight them, despite strong First Amendment protections.
Carr has also used FCC leverage over mergers to pressure media companies. CBS’ parent company settled Trump’s lawsuit and subsequently pulled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, one of Trump’s harshest comedic critics, before receiving FCC approval for a major sale. Carr publicly praised these outcomes and has signaled he will continue using regulatory power to enforce what he calls “public interest” standards. Critics argue this amounts to political retaliation and a direct threat to press freedom.
Carr had less success with Jimmy Kimmel Live.
The show was “permanently” suspended on September 17, 2025 and reinstated on the 22nd. Carr tried to strongarm that program off the air but faced stiff viewer opposition. Disney’s market cap fell by $1.4 billion overnight, and by $6.4 billion over the following week. The drop was linked to investor backlash and reports of subscription cancellations across Disney’s streaming platforms, fueled by public outrage over the network’s decision to suspend Kimmel after remarks he made about Charlie Kirk’s death. Kimmel did not mock Kirk but how MAGA weaponized the killing to their advantage.
Kimmel said:
Kimmel then transitioned into a broader description of political division:
With all these terrible things happening, you would think that our president would at least make an attempt to bring us together, but he didn’t. President Obama did. President Biden did. Presidents Bush and Clinton did.
As he spoke, screenshots of former presidents’ social media statements were shown. He continued:
President Trump did not. Instead, he blamed Democrats for their rhetoric.
Subsequent to the ‘permanent suspension’, Texas Sen. Ted Cruz (R) said he’ was glad that late night comedian Jimmy Kimmel is off the air indefinitely. He then warned that Federal Communications Commission (FCC) Chair Brendan Carr’s threat to take action against ABC sounded like something “right out of Goodfellas,” the classic mob movie, and “dangerous as hell.”
Cruz said on his podcast “Verdict’:
Jimmy Kimmel has mocked me so many times I cannot count. The corporate media, they’re dishonest, they are liars. I hate what Jimmy Kimmel said. I am thrilled that he was fired.
This is BS. I just posted what Kimmel said. He criticized how Trump tried to weaponize the assassination. Cruz was trying to further the propagandic shaping of the event while distancing himself (and other elected GOP) from the blowback. His GOP colleague Senator John Coryn is up for re-election in the 2026 midterm election.
In a reality show decisions are made during the show’s production: such as the timing and placement of certain actions. This can influence how a villain is portrayed. Similarly, the same thing is being done in the real world. While Hitler quickly solidify power over the government & media upon assuming power, Trump was unable to achieve that level of saturation.
Despite his best efforts.
Villains in reality TV shows do have fans. They often play a crucial role in creating drama and engaging viewers, which can lead to a passionate following. For example, characters like Johnny Bananas from “The Real World” and Omarosa Manigault Newman from “The Apprentice” have garnered significant fan support due to their complex and often controversial personalities. Reality TV villains are known for stirring the pot and making the show more entertaining, which contributes to their popularity among fans.
The allure of reality show villains lies in their portrayal of the darker aspects of human nature. These characters often embody traits that are rejected in society, such as selfishness, manipulation, and unpredictability. The fascination with villains stems from the psychological concept of projection: where viewers can identify with the villain’s actions and motivations. Even if those actions are morally wrong, some viewers wish that they could be duplicitous. For some, the villain is cathartic. Simultaneously, the connection allows audiences to confront their own fears and insecurities in a safe and controlled environment. Additionally, villains are often charismatic, making them more compelling and memorable than the virtuous. Their unique abilities or powers, combined with a distinctive look and mannerisms, can further enhance their appeal. The portrayal of villains in reality shows serves as a mirror to societal concerns and anxieties, amplifying narratives around antagonistic figures during times of political turmoil or social unrest.
And - in the real world - some root for the villain for similar reasons.
In reality shows, villains are often portrayed to emphasize their bad qualities (which some viewers may relate to). This connection is rooted in the audience’s tendency to identify with morally ambiguous characters, as seen in both literature and media. Villains are typically driven by selfish goals and lack empathy, which can resonate with viewers who often find themselves in similar situations. Additionally, the portrayal of villains in reality shows can be comedic or exaggerated, making them relatable and entertaining...further highlighting the audience’s desire to see the darker aspects of human nature. This dynamic allows viewers to engage with the characters in a way that feels personal and relatable.
Villains can be both complex and understandable. In fact, many viewers root for the villain. While we like to demonize the villain, many root for him.
Ultimately, the reality show analogy is imperfect. To understand the Trump phenomenon, it requires an understanding of the difference between good and evil (and how fear motivates the latter).
While the concepts of “good” & “evil” are often defined in metaphysical terms, it has nothing to do with that. A good person can credit a belief in a preferred God for their goodness but that is just window dressing.
(1) “Good” is taking personal satisfaction from helping others.
(2) “Evil” is taking personal satisfaction from harming others.
When a society is dominated by good people, that society moves closer to the fulfillment of the social contract: evil people demolish that progress.
The social contract is a philosophical concept that captures the essence of ‘goodness’. It refers to an implicit agreement among individuals to form a society and abide by its rules, norms, and laws. The idea is that people give up some of their freedoms and submit to the authority of the state or a governing body in exchange for protection of their remaining rights and maintenance of social order.
So…an expression of ‘good’ is the people working together to maximize the benefit of everyone. For a person to recognize that the well-being of another, that person must value the well-being of people that he does not know and never will.
The polar-opposite – or “evil” – is someone who “gets off on” causing human suffering.
Trump – and acolytes like Vance, Hegseth & Kristi Noem – take pleasure from hurting people. And a person who takes pleasure from hurting another derives that satisfaction for two interrelated reasons:
(1) While every person places value on having physical needs met, an evil person – like Trump, Hegseth & Noem – places an excessive value on that. Even when a need is fully met, an evil person will continue to accumulate this wealth indefinitely. The point really is accumulating wealth in such a way that it hurts others. The accumulation of excess wealth is about the satisfaction of harming others.
(2) There does not have to be a stated reason. It is the pleasure found from hurting others that defines an evil person.
And these are not stagnant concepts. Sometimes a rationale like “security” is employed. Sometimes not.
Hegseth’s mom went public about how he abuses women. This is huge. Given the power that he was handed – which he definitely did not earn – she was rightfully concerned about what he was going to do (so I believe). Hegseth gets off on abusing women: he derives the same pleasure from killing people.
Trump granted a “full and complete pardon” to former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández: a drug kingpin that was convicted of helping import 400 tons of coke into the US. Don’t give me that BS about concern over drugs being a motivator of the boat strikes. Hegseth & Trump “get off” on killing people. Then…Trump turns around and invades Venezuela. One of the given rationales was stemming the flow of drugs. More BS. He wanted the oil. He lies to his base about the human suffering that he caused to get what he wants. That is evil.
An individual is ultimately motivated by base emotions (based upon physiology) that exist to further survival. Many people cannot transcend these states. Motivated by hate, fear and anger only, they are the drivers behind all the nasty stuff: slavery, genocide and so on. A good person can rise above them and cultivate states like compassion and empathy. Such people create societies that embrace the social contract.
Corollaries to my concept of good & evil are:
(1) A good person is motivated by emotive drivers like compassion. More evolved than base emotions, these emotive motivators must be cultivated.
(2) An evil person is exclusively motivated by base emotions like anger and hate.
The dictatorial philosophy of Trump is based upon base emotions only: wokeism is an attempt to build a society based upon rarified emotional states that must be cultivated.
An individual – assuming freedom from debilitating mental disorder and a reasonable degree of intelligence – is composed of two qualities. The first is equally shared by all. Base emotions and desires are couched in one’s physiology and the environment. These base qualities inform the need to either fight or flee and reproduce. Very needed on an individual level, massive human suffering is inevitable when a culture or government is largely based on them. The second is developed in varying degrees by different individuals. They are the stuff of philosophers. Compassion, empathy and so forth must be developed through personal effort and growth. Informed by our base emotions, they are infinitely more than them. The rarified states can drive us forward to develop ever an ever-greater society where everyone is treated equitably…or at least there is continuous movement in that direction.
The social contract concept was popularized by philosophers like Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Each had a slightly different interpretation: each interpretation shades the concept of ‘good’ differently.
Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) believed that life is naturally ‘nasty, brutish, and short’: thus, people must willingly surrender their freedoms to a sovereign authority to ensure safety and security.
John Locke (1632-1704) argued that individuals agree to form a government that protects their natural rights (life, liberty, and property). If the government fails to protect these rights, people have the right to overthrow it.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) emphasized that the social contract is a collective agreement to form a society that operates based on the general will, which represents the collective interest of the people.
In essence, the social contract theory explains the origin and legitimacy of governments and the moral and political obligations of individuals within a society.
We’re all in this together. We need to work together to maximize the quality of each person’s life.
While messy – and a real challenge – the people should work together for the common benefit of all: this is a manifestation of ‘good’. When an individual – and his slavish acolytes – works against the common interest, that person is ‘evil’.
A number of statements that Trump’s made during the 2015–2016 cycle was not merely unconventional: they were, by widely accepted societal standards, irrational, threatening, or frightening.
These statements appealed to the evil intent of the MAGA movement: an intent to undo social progress as a means to establish control.
The statements helped to cultivate the MAGA movement which reshaped the Republican Party. After Trump’s 2016 rise, it became its dominant faction and intensifying long‑standing racial and cultural divisions. Examples of Trump’s early rhetoric that shaped MAGA into a force driven to control society include his remarks after Charlottesville, his comments about immigrants, and his labeling of COVID‑19 as the “Asian flu”.
As a result, MAGA’s influence has progressively undercut democratic norms.
His demolishment of the East Wing of the White House is a living metaphor for the destruction that he has reigned upon us. At the end of his first term, Trump challenged the legitimacy of elections and the peaceful transfer of power: it culminated in supporters attacking the U.S. Capitol. This was only the beginning.
MAGA is the latest iteration of a broader American tradition of reactionary movements that emerge during periods of social change. Like earlier movements—including the Tea Party—it is pulling the Republican Party further right by mobilizing racial resentment and status anxiety. Like those prior movements, base emotions – exasperated by fear – drives support for MAGA. The “working‑class white” economic‑anxiety thesis is bogus. Supporters align with MAGA based on identity‑based concerns rooted in perception of cultural threat.
Symbolic politics, not material conditions, best explains attachment to the movement.
Trump’s really insane statements during the 2015 primaries and the subsequent election fed MAGA’s identity politics. It also created an atmosphere in which public commentators felt that they must respond gingerly: not only to avoid backlash from partisan audiences but also out of concern that an unstable individual might interpret criticism as a call to violence. The Pizzagate shooting—where a man fired a rifle inside a Washington, D.C. pizzeria after believing an online conspiracy theory—demonstrated that such fears were not abstract.
Below are several examples from Trump’s early rhetoric. They fed his supporters’ desire for consolidated power and contributed to a climate of caution among cable news commentators:
1) “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.”
This sweeping accusation against an entire group was inflammatory. His supporters felt it fed into their fear that the white Christian society that the US enjoys was being rapidly diluted. Meanwhile, commentators feared that criticizing it would cause them to be cast as enemies of the movement: some talking heads feared that an unstable viewer might target them for “defending” the wrong group.
2) “I like people that weren’t captured.” (about John McCain)
Mocking a POW was shocking to many Americans.
McCain was a figure who blended military valor, political independence, and a willingness to challenge his own party.
His experience as a Vietnam POW shaped his public identity: giving him a moral authority that informed his positions on torture, national service, and America’s global responsibilities. This always bothered MAGA.
John McCain consistently rejected the idea that international engagement was a “globalist threat.”
As he said in 2008 (when he was running for the top job):
As president, I will seek the widest possible circle of allies through the League of Democracies, NATO, the UN, and the Organization of American States. During President Ronald Reagan’s deployment of intermediate-range nuclear missiles and President George H. W. Bush’s Gulf War, the United States was joined by vast coalitions despite considerable opposition to American policies among foreign publics. These alliances came about because America had carefully cultivated relationships and shared values with its friends abroad. Working multilaterally can be a frustrating experience, but **approaching problems with allies works far better than facing problems alone**
(**Emphasis added**).
His worldview was the opposite of that MAGA frame. Throughout his career, he argued that the United States was strongest when it worked with allies, upheld international institutions, and defended shared democratic values abroad.
1) McCain believed that global challenges—terrorism, authoritarian expansion, nuclear proliferation—required coordinated action. He frequently emphasized NATO, multilateral diplomacy, and long‑term alliances as essential to U.S. security.
2) He was one of the most vocal Republican defenders of the post‑World War II international order. He saw institutions like NATO, the UN, and various trade alliances not as threats to sovereignty but as stabilizing frameworks that advanced American interests.
3) McCain regularly criticized isolationist or nationalist rhetoric within his own party. He warned that withdrawing from global leadership would embolden adversaries and weaken democratic norms worldwide.
McCain did not view international cooperation as a danger. He saw it as a moral and strategic obligation. His foreign‑policy philosophy aligned with traditional bipartisan internationalism, not with the “globalist threat” narrative of MAGA. This placed him at odds with the unforgiving faction.
His choice of Sarah Palin as his VP in 2008 was meant to accelerate the GOP’s populist turn (meaning appealing to those who opposed him). Yet McCain remained committed to institutional norms. His dramatic vote against repealing the Affordable Care Act placed him further at odds with this powerful GOP faction.
Voices within the MAGA ecosystem framed the Affordable Care Act (ACA) as a threat to Christian values.
Commentators, activists, and religious‑right influencers aligned with MAGA often claimed that the ACA:
Forced Christians to subsidize practices they considered immoral, especially contraception coverage and reproductive‑health mandates.
Represented federal intrusion into religious life, with the “HHS contraception mandate” becoming a flashpoint for claims that the government was compelling Christians to violate conscience.
Signaled a broader cultural shift away from Christian moral authority, which some interpreted as part of a left‑wing project to weaken traditional religious norms.
These arguments were already circulating in conservative media before 2016, but they were absorbed into MAGA‑era messaging as the movement coalesced around themes of cultural threat and religious decline.
MAGA politics drew heavily from a theocratic or quasi‑theocratic bloc – Christian Dominionism - that believed secular liberalism was eroding Christian identity. Within that frame, the ACA became symbolic of:
(1) Government overreach.
(2) Secularism displacing religious authority.
(3) A perceived attack on traditional family structures
While defined by his integrity, humor, and devotion to public service, McCain ran afoul of a fractured political landscape. McCain was a statesman whose legacy stands out amid the intensifying partisanship of modern American politics.
Meanwhile, forceful condemnation on air of the thrice-draft dodger could not be made by the talking heads: such comments would be perceived by fervent supporters as an attack on their candidate’s strength narrative. Commentators softened their tone to avoid becoming targets of rage.
3) “Such a nasty women.” (about Hillary Clinton during presidential debate)
While Trump insulting his opponent in such a crass manner during a debate is outrageous, it pleased the MAGA base as it was perceived as a good Christian warrior standing up to a demon.
A number of MAGA‑aligned influencers and religious‑right figures portrayed Hillary Clinton in 2016 as hostile to Christian values,
This framing became part of a broader narrative that the political left—and Clinton specifically—threatened traditional religious authority.
Commentators in the MAGA media ecosystem frequently argued that Clinton:
1) Supported policies that would erode religious liberty (especially around contraception mandates, LGBTQ protections, and church–state separation).
2) Represented a Democratic Party that was “anti‑Christian” or “anti‑religious freedom,” language used by several high‑profile conservative broadcasters and pastors who were aligned with MAGA messaging.
3) Embodied a secular, cosmopolitan worldview that they claimed would undermine traditional family structures and Christian moral norms.
Platforms such as Fox News opinion shows, Breitbart, and talk‑radio hosts framed Clinton as part of a cultural project to marginalize Christianity. Some commentators argued that her support for reproductive rights and LGBTQ equality reflected a direct challenge to biblical values. This narrative helped consolidate a theocratic or quasi‑theocratic bloc within the GOP, reinforcing the sense that the 2016 election was a battle over cultural and spiritual identity rather than just policy.
While there was some real time criticism for this remark and others, I feel that the response was muted due to a fear of physical retribution. While speculative, I feel that the pushback would have been infinitely greater if HRC called Trump “nasty”.
This authoritarian‑sounding claim alarmed many observers.
It is important to remember that Trump had tapped into a deep cultural nostalgia for a time mythologized as morally upright and economically booming (immediately after the end of WWII). He had made a conscious appeal to older white Christians (that were very racist) and their perception that our country was socially unified under Christian hegemony and white dominance. This was a vision of a “simpler” America, where traditional gender roles, a clear racial hierarchy, biblical authority, and national pride reigned.
This resonated powerfully with evangelical movements like Seven Mountain Dominionism, championed by figures such as Lance Wallnau.
Wallnau and his allies viewed politics as spiritual warfare and believe Christians are divinely mandated to take dominion over seven key spheres of society: government, media, education, business, family, religion, and the arts.
Trump’s rhetoric – for example – framed immigration not just as a policy issue but as a civilizational threat, warning that unchecked migration would erode national character and endanger white Americans demographically and physically. The argument was fundamentally the same that Hitler made about the German Volk being endangered by the Jews. The call to “build the wall” and enact sweeping deportations resonated with voters who feared becoming a minority in their own country, a fear stoked by conspiratorial narratives about replacement and persecution. This strategy fused nationalist anxiety with racial grievance, transforming immigration enforcement into a symbolic act of cultural preservation and actual political revenge.
Seven Mountains Dominionism – as promoted by Wallnau and others in the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) movement – does not embrace the traditional premillennial End Times theology (which anticipates a rapture, tribulation, and Christ returning to rescue a beleaguered church). Instead, Seven Mountains Dominionism teaches a “victorious eschatology.”
It teaches that Christ will return not to rescue a defeated church but to rule with a triumphant one.
These supporters feel that it is their religious duty to vote for MAGA. While they turn out in a very high percentage, they do not represent the views of the broader public.
Trump’s outrageous claim to absolute personal certitude does not seem extreme from this perspective.
Some of Donald Trump’s most fervent supporters view him as having a divine or semi-divine connection to Jesus Christ, interpreting his leadership as part of a spiritual mission. This belief is particularly strong among certain evangelical and Christian nationalist groups, who see Trump as a chosen vessel for advancing their religious and political ideals. Some have even referred to him as “God’s Trumpet”, suggesting that he is divinely appointed to lead the United States.
Trump’s voters are religious zealots who frame their support in terms of identity politics.
During the 2016 campaign, neither CNN nor MSNBC framed the emerging MAGA coalition as a movement unified by Christian Dominionism.
Their coverage focused on more familiar political categories—evangelical voters, the religious right, and conservative Christians—rather than the specific theological language that scholars and long‑form journalists would later use. At the time, much of the commentary centered on the surprising alliance between Donald Trump and white evangelical voters, with analysts noting the tension between Trump’s personal irreligiosity and the loyalty he received from religious conservatives. But this was generally discussed in terms of voting blocs and cultural values, not as evidence of a Dominionist project.
And those talking heads knew what was going on. While they framed it terms of a curious political coalition, the real story was how an extremist religious theology had grabbed a significant bloc of the electorate and was executing great influence. But a commentator could not address that head on: it would mean a late-night visit to their home by a murderous mob.
The term “Christian Dominionism” simply had not entered mainstream cable discourse in a sustained way. It was treated as a niche theological concept, more at home in academic writing or specialized religious commentary than in nightly political panels. But…it was always the story. Only after Trump took office—and especially after the 2020 election and the events surrounding January 6—did mainstream outlets begin to explore the more overtly theocratic strands within the movement. By then, the fusion of Christian nationalism and MAGA politics had become more visible, prompting a shift in how networks described the religious dynamics at play.
The truth could no longer be ignored.
This essay focuses on element behind the rise of Trump’s political fortunes. Much has happened since the start of his second term (all bad). But I will close with comments from a Republican member of Congress who warned that there are enough votes in the House to impeach President Donald Trump if he attempts to order a military invasion of Greenland.
Rep. Don Bacon, a Nebraska Republican, sharply criticized President Trump’s escalating threats to seize Greenland, calling the idea “utter buffoonery” and warning it could trigger impeachment proceedings.
Bacon told the Omaha World‑Herald that many Republicans were angry about Trump’s increasingly aggressive rhetoric, noting that an invasion of the Danish‑controlled Arctic territory would be a “disastrous idea” and could “end his presidency.” Trump has shifted from musing about buying Greenland to suggesting the U.S. should take control of it by force, insisting the island “should be in the hands of the United States.” He dismissed concerns about NATO implications and claimed Greenland was essential for national security.
International leaders, including Greenland’s prime minister, reiterated that the island is not for sale and would not accept U.S. control. Bacon emphasized that Greenland and Denmark are longstanding allies and that Trump’s posture undermines trust within NATO. He also urged fellow Republicans to oppose the idea publicly, calling it demeaning to allies and strategically reckless.
Sens. Thom Tillis (R-NC) and Lisa Murkowski (R-AK) are reportedly planning to travel to Copenhagen this week to meet with Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen to assure her that Republicans in Congress would oppose Trump on any invasion of their territory.
Tillis said:
Though only a majority of the House is required to impeach the president, removal from office by the Senate requires 67 votes.
The institutionalist wing of the GOP feels that Trump’s foreign adventurism constitutes an abuse of power. It is so extreme that even many MAGA Republicans would view it as a red line.
Trump has repeatedly floated the idea of seizing or annexing Greenland. Besides reviving a proposal he first raised during his earlier term, he has recently spoken about the island in increasingly aggressive terms. Several Republicans privately fear that Trump’s fixation on Greenland reflects a broader pattern of impulsive foreign‑policy decisions that could destabilize alliances and provoke international backlash.
The political tension inside the GOP (while many lawmakers remain publicly loyal to Trump) is notable: especially since the party has long supported the aging despot. Some GOP lawmakers privately acknowledge that an unauthorized military action would force them to choose between the president and constitutional limits on executive power. The fact that impeachment is being discussed within Republican ranks as a potential check on presidential overreach is profound.
Trump was never about ideas. He is about fear:
1) Trump – at his most primal level – is driven by fear.
2) His supporters…same.
3) Many people who want to stop the madness are afraid to do so.
This was enough to elevate him to power but not enough to keep him there.
Namaste and Shalom,
John Eisenhauer
Db of all my Substack essays (as of 11/25/ 25) and other stuff