Skip to main content

This article is a translation of the original French version that appeared in Le Grand Continent on April 14, 2026.

References to the Christian religion and the return of the Messiah are not new features of American politics. While John Winthrop may have provided one of the most famous such invocations when he described the United States as the “city upon a hill” from Matthew 5:14, the idea of Manifest Destiny—that of America as a nation chosen by God—has been constitutive of national identity since the mid-nineteenth century.

Donald Trump, however, brings a radical shift to this history by rendering Manifest Destiny into the first person singular.

Between narcissism and trolling, within an ecosystem of image production structured by artificial intelligence and social media virality, it is no longer America, but Trump himself who becomes the anointed and the chosen one.

Within just a few months of his second term, Donald Trump and the White House have produced and disseminated a gallery of figures of sacred absolute power on their official accounts.

It is within a neo-reactionary matrix of unmediated communication that one must understand the incursions of the American President against the Church, his unprecedented attacks against the Pope, as well as his reappropriation of the medieval theo-political imaginary of the thaumaturgic king.

The Thaumaturgic King, as Seen by AI

Published on social media on April 13, following a long tirade against Pope Leo XIV, Figure 1 references a royal and messianic imaginary.

Figure 1. Donald Trump’s controversial April 13th tweet. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

The thaumaturgic kings analyzed by Marc Bloch cured scrofula simply with their touch, deriving their power from a double legitimacy—dynastic and sacramental—transmitted to them during their royal coronation. What is at stake here is structurally analogous, but radically new in its form: legitimacy is not transmitted by the Church, but is self-proclaimed, produced by AI and disseminated directly, without mediation, to the millions of followers of his official accounts.

[In Trump’s posts,] legitimacy is not transmitted by the Church, but is self-proclaimed, produced by AI and disseminated directly.

This illustration, produced by artificial intelligence, adopts a kitschy Christian fantastical style, close to the covers of illustrated Bibles or epic fantasy. Trump is seen, dressed in white and red, laying hands on a bedridden sick person, while a miraculous and soothing light emanates from his hands. We are witnessing the staging of a reproduction of the royal gesture par excellence: the healing of scrofula. The American people look on with piety and admiration: veterans, a nurse, a praying woman, hands in the foreground.

This composition in celestial glory is completed by a background directly borrowed from the iconography of the Ascension or the Parousia: figures haloed with divine light open the background with a purely kitsch presentation of American symbols (white eagles transforming into fighter jets, the American flag, the Statue of Liberty) articulated with warrior-angels in the sky (Figure 2).

Figure 2. The background of Trump’s April 13 tweet. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

One detail was widely commented on: the central figure is wearing what resembles a crown from the Statue of Liberty, an explicit fusion of Christian sacred imagery and American nationalism. The figures flanking it, in military or paramilitary attire, appear as warrior angels, in line with the doctrine of spiritual warfare.

In the viral reception of this apocalyptic imagery, one conspiracist reading highlighted the supposedly diabolical dimension of the central figure, claiming that it was added at a later stage. The original image (Figure 3), probably published in February by Nick Adams, a supporter of the American President who runs a widely followed X account among Trumpists, belongs to a constellation of pro-Trump accounts flooding social networks with AI-generated content.

Figure 3. The Trump team’s alleged edits to the original healing image. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

These accounts seem to contribute to the virality of Trumpist content as much as they generate it themselves: in October, Donald Trump shared a video created by the “Dilley meme team” depicting him as the drummer of the American rock band Blue Öyster Cult to the song “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper.” The imagery of the “reaper” mentioned in the lyrics played on the budget cuts carried out by the White House during the government shutdown, under the direction of the Office of Management and Budget director, Russell Vought.

In 2024, during the presidential campaign, this same group was behind another video, also shared by Trump’s account, which referred to a “unified Reich.” Trump’s campaign denied any responsibility, attributing the video to a “random account.”

The association between the President’s entourage and the groups producing this content, openly claimed by the Dilley meme team, nonetheless raises doubts about their supposedly organic character. In 2023, the group’s creator, Brenden Dilley, declared that he had visited Mar-a-Lago several times.

Eschatological imagery circulates abundantly within evangelical and conspiracist networks.

In any case, eschatological imagery circulates abundantly within evangelical and conspiracist networks who claim the President will preside over the final judgment and restoration of America. The radiating light is the classical iconographic sign of apparitions.

Faced with numerous criticisms, including from Republicans, Donald Trump deleted his tweet (Figure 4), stating that he believed he was represented “as a doctor” in the image he had shared.

Figure 4. Trump deleting his controversial post. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Trolling the Pope

On May 3, 2025, four days before the beginning of the Conclave, Trump published an AI-generated image (Figure 5) showing him seated in an ornate chair, dressed in white pontifical garments and wearing a papal headdress, with his index finger raised. The image first appeared on his Truth Social account, before being reposted by the White House on its official X account.

Figure 5. Donald Trump’s post portraying himself as the Pope. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

The boundary between jokes, provocations, and symbolic claims to spiritual authority is always blurred. This constitutes one of the matrices of Trump’s theo-political dynamic, which he fully embraces, both seriously and ironically.

A few days before publishing this image, he declared to the press: “I would like to be Pope.” As we have shown elsewhere, the United States had in fact sought to influence, in an unprecedented way, the process of appointing the new pope.

It should also be noted: the gesture of the raised index finger toward the sky is rarely associated with Christian culture, whereas it is typical of Muslim practice—it is one of the symbols of Tawhid.

Monetizing the Bible

“We must make America pray again”: in a promotional video broadcast on YouTube and published during Holy Week 2024, Donald Trump launched both an initiative and a product, the “God Bless The USA Bible”—a reference to the 1984 song by country singer Lee Greenwood.

In addition to the Christian Scriptures in the King James Version, the “God Bless the USA Bible” also contains the text of the American Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the chorus of Greenwood’s song.

Since then, Trump has marketed several Bibles (Figure 6), from the now modest “God Bless the USA Bible”—sold for $59.99—to the extravagant “Golden Age Edition Bible,” available from $99.99, as well as a Bible celebrating his inauguration.

Figure 6. A screen capture of Trump Bibles. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

All these Bibles intertwine political symbols (seals, flags) with the sacred in their paratexts, offering variations for different groups (veterans, etc.).

Printed in China, they are commercially sold under paid license by CIC Ventures LLC, the same entity that manages the “Never Surrender” sneakers sold for $399 and a line of NFTs.

Several online offers are now available: with the purchase of two Bibles, one also receives a free gift bag.

Donald Trump also offers his followers signed Bibles. He notably gave a signed “God Bless the USA” Bible to rap star Nicki Minaj (Figure 7), who has appeared alongside him to discuss the treatment of Christians in Nigeria. She declared that it was one of the “most meaningful gifts [she had] ever received in [her] entire life.”

Figure 7. Nicki Minaj’s personally signed Trump Bible. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

War and Christ

As explained by the Jesuit priest Antonio Spadaro, an influential advisor to Pope Francis and current undersecretary of the Dicastery for Culture and Education of the Holy See:

What worries the Pope is a particular rhetoric: one that claims to inscribe God within the order of battle, to make war the place of a metaphysical struggle between Good and Evil, with the serene certainty that Heaven is on one’s side. The formula “Gott mit uns” (“God is with us”) did not originate with Nazism, but it was Nazism that gave it its full revelatory force. It expresses the temptation to appropriate the divine, to mobilize it and use it as a resource in the service of power. Yet it is precisely this logic that Leo XIV condemns in all contemporary rhetorical forms, including, indeed, in several communications of the American administration.

The Return of the Crusades: The Body Art of Pete Hegseth

The case of Pete Hegseth is the most spectacular materialization of the iconography of religious war within the American administration.

The Secretary of War, a former Fox News commentator, has inscribed theo-political symbolism onto his body.

The Secretary of War, a former Fox News commentator, has inscribed theo-political symbolism onto his body (Figure 8). One of his most prominent tattoos is a large Jerusalem cross on his chest—a symbol used during the Crusades representing the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Figure 8. Pete Hegseth and his tattoos. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

When sworn-in to office, he took his oath on a Bible bearing the same cross, accompanied by the Latin inscription “Deus Vult” (Figures 9-12).

Figure 9. Pete Hegseth’s swearing-in ceremony. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Figure 10. Pete Hegseth’s Bible. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Figure 11. Pete Hegseth’s Bible. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Figure 12. Pete Hegseth’s Bible. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

A rallying cry of the crusaders, “Deus Vult”—“God wills it”—is tattooed on his biceps. Among his many tattoos is also the inscription “kafir” on his arm: “infidel” in Arabic. These symbols were notably worn by American soldiers who took part in the battles of Fallujah and Kandahar during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Hegseth himself described Trump as a “chief crusader” in his book American Crusade, writing that “only a crusade will suffice” to save America, and concluding the work with: “See you on the battlefield. Deus Vult!”

Added to this are the Chi-Rho, a Greek Christogram used by Emperor Constantine before his military victory in 312AD, as well as a cross pierced by a sword referring to Matthew 10:34: “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

The Warrior of God Against the Deep State

Trumpist imagery of divine war also fits within a radical horizon of reception associated with evangelical spiritual warfare. According to these conspiracy theories, Trump is fighting the forces of evil, represented as literally demonic within QAnon circles and the NAR (New Apostolic Reformation) movement.

The “Appeal to Heaven” flag—a white pine tree on a green background—is a symbol of the American Revolution of 1775, borrowed from John Locke: when human justice is corrupted, one appeals directly to God. The NAR movement has reactivated it as a banner of spiritual warfare, which explains why it flew alongside Jerusalem crosses and “Deus Vult” banners in the corridors of the Capitol during the January 6 assault.

Figure 13. MAGA supporters outside the Capitol on January 6, 2021. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

The NAR movement believes in the existence of contemporary apostles and prophets and has repeatedly declared that Trump was chosen by God.

For its followers, elections are apocalyptic moments: Trump is portrayed engaging in an eschatological struggle with the forces of evil, and current events are read in the light of a hidden war that is increasingly revealing itself. Paula White-Cain, officially Senior Advisor of the White House Faith Office, thus prayed in the Oval Office to break “any demonic network aligned against the calling of President Trump.” The link between this movement and political violence was highlighted by Matthew D. Taylor, who concludes that “one of the major factors that fueled January 6 was a mass spiritual warfare campaign organized by the NAR movement […] several members of Peter Wagner’s mentoring circles were among those who marched on the Capitol that day.”

For [NAR] followers, elections are apocalyptic moments: Trump is portrayed engaging in an eschatological struggle with the forces of evil.

The Passion of D. J. Trump

The image of the persecuted martyr plays a structuring role in the Trumpian narrative: indictments, trials, and the assassination attempt of July 2024 are systematically perceived as episodes of a contemporary Passion. While leading a prayer at the White House for Easter, Pastor Paula White explicitly superimposed the story of Jesus onto that of the American President:

Through his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ demonstrates great leadership. Mr. President, no one has paid the price like you have paid the price. It almost cost you your life. You were betrayed, and arrested, and falsely accused. It’s a familiar pattern that our Lord and savior showed us. But it didn’t end there for him—and it didn’t end their for you. God always had a plan: on the third day, he rose, he defeated evil, he conquered death, hell, and the grave. And because he rose, we all know that we can rise. And, Sir, because of his resurrection, you rose up.

The photograph of Trump, fist raised, face bloodied, with an American flag in the background, immediately circulated with divine rays and angels added in post. A painting representing this scene has since been hung in the Grand Foyer of the White House. It is part of the tour shown by the American President to foreign leaders and dignitaries. A reinterpretation of this image (Figure 14), painted by a Russian artist, was also given to Trump by Vladimir Putin ahead of the Anchorage Summit in August 2025.

Figure 14. An artistic reinterpretation of the image of Trump surviving the 2024 assassination attempt. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Several leading evangelical figures […] interpreted Trump’s survival as a direct divine intervention.

Several leading evangelical figures immediately interpreted Trump’s survival as a direct divine intervention. Franklin Graham, a prominent evangelist, spoke of “the hand of God.” Prophets from the NAR movement had predicted a failed assassination attempt, which, in their framework, retrospectively validated the entire prophecy concerning Trump.

Steve Bannon summed up the official reading of the movement: “The hand of divine Providence intervened on the plains of Butler. Trump was spared to accomplish great things.”

The official White House account relayed, on the first anniversary of this assassination attempt, a message stating: ““I WAS SAVED BY GOD TO MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.” — President Donald J. Trump” (Figure 15).

Figure 15. Trump credits divine intervention for his survival. Photo by Le Grand Continent and used with permission of the author.

Prayer and Anointing

A scene has repeated itself several times.

A month ago, on March 6, 2026.

Or a year ago, on March 19, 2025. On that occasion, the American President received 17 evangelical pastors in the Oval Office to pray for him and lay hands on him. The central prayer, pronounced by Samuel Rodriguez, stated: “We pray for President Trump. You have appointed him, you have named him, you have anointed him for such a time as this. Cover him with the blood of Jesus.”

Within the charismatic evangelical framework, the laying on of hands is the ritual through which spiritual authority is transmitted. Applying it to a head of state seated behind his desk merges the theological and political registers in an explicit and deliberate way.

This phenomenon is inseparable from the white evangelical bloc, which represents about 15% of the American population, more than 80% of which has voted for Trump in every election. For some of them, this support is not merely pragmatic but properly theological: Trump is the imperfect instrument of a divine plan, like Cyrus the Great in the Old Testament—a pagan king chosen to accomplish God’s will.

Not all American Christianity is Trumpist: many evangelical, Catholic, and Protestant theologians denounce what they call a political idolatry—perhaps revealing one of the coming fault lines, perhaps the harshest, for the future of the MAGA movement.


Le Grand Continent is a new and independent journal, founded in May 2019 in Paris, published by the Geopolitical Studies Group, an independent research center based at the École Normale Supérieure.

Correction: An earlier version of this article initially attributed the the idea of a city upon a hill to President Ronald Reagan and suggested that the notion of Manifest Destiny stemmed from the eighteenth century.