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This article is a translation of a piece that first appeared in French in Le Grand Continent. Gilles Gressani interviews Pasquale Annicchino.

Gilles Gressani: You study the convergence between theology and politics, particularly through the legal changes in the digital transformation in the United States.[1] From this specific point of view, what does the assassination of Charlie Kirk reveal?

Pasquale Annicchino: This murder, and above all the reactions that followed it, are symptoms of a new reality: an apocalyptic mentality has become deeply entrenched in the American imagination.

What seems unprecedented to me is that it is no longer confined to a marginal current, such as QAnon or other conspiracy movements, but that it now structures the way a great number of officials and citizens perceive politics and the future of the country.

Thus, William Barr, Donald Trump’s former attorney general, explicitly described American politics around the clash between two incompatible systems of values—an apocalyptic confrontation between Good and Evil. Peter Thiel, one of the most emblematic figures of digital Trumpism, now gives seminars on the Antichrist.[2]

What does this “apocalyptic mentality” encompass?

It is a complex architecture of meaning, which defines and redefines reality for its followers in a self-referential way. From a theological-political perspective, it rests on a form of millenarianism: the conviction that a radical, definitive change is imminent.

In the case of the American religious right, which has increasingly hegemonic during Trump’s presidency, this approach is rooted in fundamentalist and nationalist Christianity.

Political events are thus interpreted in terms of biblical prophecy. Peter Thiel made this doubly explicit by writing that “Trump’s return to the White House heralds the apocalypse.”

Today this logic has found a focal point: Charlie Kirk is compared to a saint, a martyr, even a thirteenth apostle.

In the words of Cardinal Dolan, “This guy is a modern-day Saint Paul. He was a missionary, he was an evangelist, he was a hero.”[3] J. D. Vance recited the Nicene Creed as “the most important truth Charlie told,” making this activist quite literally into a martyr who died to bear witness to his faith in Jesus Christ.

Nor are there any shortages of memes and other viral images generated by artificial intelligence, portraying him as an angel taking selfies in heaven, or as an elect figure alongside great assassinated figures in American history such as Abraham Lincoln, JFK, and Martin Luther King Jr.

In one of these videos, watched millions of times on social networks, an AI simulation of Charlie Kirk evokes his martyrdom (“I’m Charlie. My faith cost me my life, but now I stand forever in glory.”) before asking the four great Christian martyrs—Paul, Stephen, Andrew, and Peter—to do the same.

In another video, Charlie Kirk leaves the stage to join a kind of J. D. Vance dressed as Jesus Christ in paradise.

On social media, these images and videos are shared as tributes, such as one where Kirk is shown holding a Trump hat in the sky while Jesus tells him it’s fine that he died, because his mission was complete.

This interpretive intensity is the product of an apocalyptic mentality and must be taken seriously, beyond its kitsch dimension, because it justifies messages proclaiming, in essence, that after Kirk’s assassination, nothing can ever be the same again.

A logic of regime change seems to be assumed, with a series of purges that have attacked prominent individuals—showing a convergence between the power of the state and the force of social networks.

Yes, because, still according to this apocalyptic logic, his death obliges conservatives to change the law, and the Constitution is then suspended.

Several senior officials in the administration, such as Vice President J. D. Vance or Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau, have called not only for identifying those who may have “celebrated” Kirk’s death, but also those who “praise it, minimize it, or rationalize it.” The secretary of the newly created Department of War, Pete Hegseth, lead prayers with his troops in the name of Charlie Kirk.

The dismissal of comedian Jimmy Kimmel, several federal employees, and even a member of the Secret Service shows that, within the framework of the theological-political beatification process of Charlie Kirk, a logic of blasphemy has been introduced into the United States, violently short- circuiting the First Amendment.

From the very beginning, starting with its name, the Make America Great Again movement has claimed a particular temporality: that “again” implies a time of messianic expectation. Are we now witnessing the convergence of this apocalyptic horizon in Trump’s practice of power?

In the United States of 2025, this apocalyptic vision functions as a self-validating epistemological framework, offering certainties that seem to provide a moral clarity about the present and the future.

When political struggle becomes a confrontation between Good and Evil, the political adversary is transformed into an existential enemy threatening the survival of the Nation.

This logic, without counter-powers or limiting institutions, can be devastating.

A significant part of the reactions to this heinous assassination—including that of the American president—sought to demonstrate the existence of moral instigators and a political project to assassinate Kirk, playing on the rivalry between an imaginary “them” and a “we” structured by sacralization and by excluding opponents from the sphere of the human, in a radical political enmity. What are the consequences?

It is clear that this approach contributes to eroding the foundations of any civil dialogue, by justifying any action deemed useful to “save” America from the forces of darkness. If your adversary is a satanic adversary, all means become permissible and the law must be suspended.

Recent statements by Stephen Miller, deputy White House chief of staff, claiming the existence of an “organized terrorist movement” on the left, open the possibility of indicting any political opponent for conspiracy against the United States — which probably confirms the operational nature of this scheme.

Donald Trump’s statements on the Antifa movement confirm the concrete character of this hypothesis, as do his new public declarations in which he asks the attorney general to prosecute political adversaries whose “corruption” he himself arbitrarily decides.

It is in this light that we must understand the purges that have begun in the United States and that are already contributing to establishing a climate of fear.

The strictly binary logic of the apocalyptic mentality seems perfectly suited for algorithmic amplification on social networks. Can we explain, by its omnipresence, the growing receptiveness of part of American public opinion to this type of eschatological narrative?

Absolutely. The algorithmic amplification of social networks draws its emotional power from our need for certainty and belonging.

Faced with the complexity and contradictions of the world, this binary logic offers a coherent narrative that can be literally shared in real time.

The algorithm of X (formerly Twitter), for example, is designed to reward those who are able to stimulate provocative conversations in order to boost engagement.

Structured on such an epistemology, this worldview—which shapes the national narrative into a quest for Manifest Destiny—makes part of public opinion particularly sensitive to apocalyptic and redemptive stories.

What has perhaps not yet been clearly articulated is how influential this epistemological framework has now become—on both the right and the left in the United States.

On the other hand, does AI, with its ability to cheaply mold credible alternative realities, also play a role in amplifying this mentality?

You are right to highlight this aspect. In American evangelical churches, AI is increasingly used, including during rituals.

In several megachurches, pastors in recent days have made thousands of worshippers listen to a message delivered by a simulated voice of Charlie Kirk, supposedly speaking—after his martyrdom—from beyond the grave and from paradise.[4]

This AI simulation literally makes Kirk assume the role of an angel, a prophetic messenger instructing the people on what must be done: accelerate the transformation so that American political institutions carry the cross in the world.

Artificial intelligence has become a decisive tool in the conquest of virality and can itself transform into religion.

From a theological point of view, we are faced with a quantum leap. Religion has become a laboratory of experimentation for new forms of control, at the intersection of surveillance and social engineering, raising unprecedented questions about the balance between security and freedom.

Through transhumanism, the cult of the “Singularity,” or even dataism, the very boundaries of the religious are being redefined.

What are the geopolitical repercussions of this vision and its impact on international institutions?

The belief in the coming of the Antichrist and in the final battle of Armageddon has ended up influencing American foreign policy on a particular point: the Israel-Palestine conflict.

This is an essential—and shared—frame of reference for settlers and evangelical Zionism.

International institutions, such as the United Nations, a pillar of the world order established after World War II, are viewed with suspicion, because they are perceived as an attempt to establish a secular world government, a Trojan horse that would pave the way for the domination of the Antichrist.

It is no coincidence that figures such as Franklin Delano Roosevelt or Barack Obama have been interpreted by certain currents of religious conservatism as satanic figures.

What role does the figure of Trump play in this framework? What parallels can we draw with earlier moments in American history and its “paranoid political style,” to use Richard Hofstadter’s terms?[5]

In his essay, the American historian Richard Hofstadter reminded us that this vision starts from an original dispossession: “America has been largely taken away from them … though they are determined to try to repossess it and to prevent the final destructive act of subversion.”

Let me quote a longer passage: “Let us now abstract the basic elements in the paranoid style. The central image is that of a vast and sinister conspiracy, a gigantic yet subtle machinery set in motion to undermine and destroy a way of life. […] The paranoid spokesman sees the fate of this conspiracy in apocalyptic terms—he traffics in the birth and death of whole worlds, whole political orders, whole systems of human values. He is always manning the barricades of civilization. He constantly lives at a turning point: it is now or never in organizing resistance to conspiracy. Time is forever just running out.”[6]

One could say this is a paragraph that might just as well have been written today.

Yet Hofstadter insisted in his essay on the often marginal and minority nature of this representation. Is that still the case?

Seeing Vice President J. D. Vance hosting the Charlie Kirk Show is not just a media event — it is the full realization of Sidney Blumenthal’s thesis.[7] Years ago, Blumenthal had shown how the conservative right, feeling excluded from mainstream media and institutions, began building its own parallel ecosystem: think tanks, magazines, and finally powerful media platforms. The goal was to create its own narrative and legitimacy in order to turn ideology into political power.

We are now witnessing a decisive turning point in this process. The “counter-establishment” is no longer an alternative; it has become the establishment.

Far from being monolithic, the Trumpist coalition is made up of several currents that sometimes violently dispute the right to claim Charlie Kirk’s memory. We have, for example, seen accusations of responsibility for the assassination aimed at far-right influencer Nick Fuentes or billionaire Bill Ackman…

Yes, indeed. The MAGA movement is not a monolithic bloc, but a patchwork of diverse ideological currents within the American right.

Although united by support for Trump and by a core populist nationalism, these factions present visions and priorities that sometimes diverge, shaping their internal debates and political proposals.

It is possible to identify several strands, among them: conservative nationalists, techno- capitalists, post-liberals, and also a heterogeneous wing dominated by figures who have gone viral on social media. Figures like Laura Loomer or Nick Fuentes, for example, had long harshly criticized Kirk.

You mention that this mentality also has influence in the progressive camp. In what way is that the case?

This mental structure is so powerful that it has spread to certain sectors of the left, but in a fully secularized form. Here, the Apocalypse is not expressed in religious terms, but through the notion of “existential risk.” The end of the world is perceived as imminent, caused by man-made systemic crises: climate, democracy, environment. Those who do not share these diagnoses are then seen as agents of an inevitable catastrophe.

Although in the case of Charlie Kirk’s murder, many comments—even within the progressive camp—expressed empathy toward the Kirk family and emphasized the need to avoid violence, we also saw statements typical of a mentality that interprets the murder as the inevitable symptom of imminent social and political collapse. For these reasons, it reflects a deterministic and pessimistic vision of the future of the American social order and, in some cases, the global order. If political struggle becomes a zero-sum, total confrontation where the adversary is an existential enemy and the present a crucial moment heralding either catastrophe or salvation, the space for dialogue and compromise disappears.

How does this perception of the murder illustrate the logic of reciprocal demonization that you describe?

Once the adversary is demonized, violence against them changes in nature. Murder is no longer seen as a moral and legal transgression, but as the inevitable symptom of the social collapse that the “enemy” is supposed to provoke.

What consequences does this mentality have for the future of American democracy?

If political struggle becomes a zero-sum, total confrontation, then nothing remains but reciprocal demonization. It becomes the driving force of extreme polarization that undermines trust in institutions.

As long as this architecture of meaning dominates public discourse, the United States will remain trapped in a “cold civil war,” waiting for the end of the world.

You are speaking about the United States, but social networks and American power extend far beyond the national territory. Isn’t there a European contamination of the apocalyptic mentality?

In Italy, for example, the way Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni has invoked the Kirk affair shows how “culture wars” from across the Atlantic become a framework for positioning herself, defining enemies, and consolidating a political identity that resonates with a specific electorate.

This phenomenon once again raises questions about cultural sovereignty and the progressive Americanization of national public discourse.

It also presents a risk, because it imports into a much more pacified political system the premises of a new radical politicization based on reciprocal demonization. The driving force of American polarization is thus increasingly exported to other countries, eroding trust in institutions and preparing the ground for ever more extreme actions.

We are witnessing a textbook case of the “subversion of the ruling classes,” whereby one attempts to impose a representation of Italy as if it were similar to Alabama—marked by hyperpolarization and a potentially armed conflict between adversaries. In reality, this is a discursive construction that, on closer inspection, appears intrinsically baseless and even ridiculous.

Don’t you fear a deeper and performative effect of these uses—if regime change succeeded in the United States, wouldn’t it inevitably produce a change in our own political systems?

As long as this complex architecture of meaning dominates American public discourse—that is, a “cold civil war” waiting for the end of the world—we will be faced with a nation trapped in a dynamic that itself creates the conditions of the polarization that continues to undermine it.

When this architecture is exported to the Middle East or to Europe, the dynamic can be powerful.

Over the years, the category of “existential risk,” understood as the end of the world not caused by a supernatural divine event, but as the catastrophic and imminent consequence of human- made systemic crises, has proved very influential. What remains for us is to understand who or what is the katechon of these troubled times—the power that restrains the coming of the Apocalypse. To react and to begin this inquiry, the first step is to resist adapting to the dynamics of the heralds of the Apocalypse.


[1] Pasquale Annicchino, Interazione tra diritto e religione nella transizione digitale, Torino, Giappichelli Editore, 2025.

[2] Peter Thiel is currently holding a series of four private lectures on the biblical theme of the Antichrist, organized by the non-profit organization Acts 17 Collective (“Acknowledging Christ in Technology and Society”) on September 15, 22, 29, and October 6.

[3] Cardinal Timothy Dolan, Fox & Friends, Fox News. Broadcast on September 19, 2025. Timothy Dolan said on air: “This guy’s a modern-day St. Paul. He was a missionary, he’s an evangelist, he’s a hero. He’s one, I think, that knew what Jesus meant when he said the truth will set you free.”

[4] This message has been broadcast to date in at least several large evangelical Protestant churches: Dream City Church in Arizona; Awaken Church in San Marcos, California; and Prestonwood Baptist Church in Plano, Texas.

[5] Richard Hofstadter, The Paranoid Style in American Politics, and Other Essays, New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1965.

[6] Ibid 29-30.

[7] Sidney Blumenthal, The Rise of the Counter-Establishment: From Conservative Ideology to Political Power, New York, Times Books, 1986.


Gilles Gressani is the Director of Le Grand Continent. He chairs the Geopolitical Studies Group and teaches at Sciences Po. His book, Portrait d’un monde cassé (Gallimard 2024) is available in bookstores.

Pasquale Annicchino is a senior assistant professor of law at the University of Foggia, Italy. In 2020/2021 he taught global law and religion at Central European University (Vienna) and FGV-Direito Rio (Rio de Janeiro). He has been also an adjunct professor of law at Brigham Young University J. Reuben Clark Law School and at St. John’s University School of Law. He is the author of Law and International Religious Fredoom: The Rise and Decline of the American Model (2017).

Image made by John Chrobak using “Charlie Kirk (53808961183)” by Gage Skidmore licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0; “Saint Paul Catholic Church (Westerville, Ohio) – stained glass, arcade, Saint Paul” by Nheyob licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.