Vows and affairs in the name of Christ | Opinion

“I would like to understand, with my little mortal eyes, how we will see each other later. It would be wonderful if there was light.” With these words Aldo Moro took leave in a letter to his wife before being assassinated by the Red Brigades in May 1978. The Italian politician had been prime minister and at the time of his kidnapping was leader of the Christian Democracy, a party that governed for more than 40 years and whose name contained not only a declaration of intentions, but also its raison d’être. More was Catholic, he could also express doubts, as that phrase suggests, but above all he was a statesman. Like him, many leaders of that formation abandoned their faith for the more intimate sphere of life: a behavior typical of every mature and responsible public representative which clashes with an increasingly consolidated tendency, especially in the United States and Latin America, to perform embarrassing religious magic tricks in public and on social networks. Everything, to defend ultra-ideological positions, make propaganda or attract followers to win votes. Or money.

Days before announcing her retirement from the front line of politics and her break with Donald Trump, Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene, one of the most radical figures of the MAGA (Make America Great Again) movement, answered a Christological question. “Obeying Jesus, forgiving and asking for forgiveness is not kneeling, it is walking in obedience to Christ our Lord and putting our faith into action. Nothing has changed in me, except that I refuse to continue to be part of the evil and toxic madness of the political-industrial complex that is destroying our country”, he launched on his X profile.

The boundary between the ideology of Trumpism forged by one of its first politicians, Steve Bannon, and the more reactionary and intolerant face of the Christian churches is increasingly blurred. Bannon himself knows it works, perhaps as riding on imaginative or deliberately false conspiracy theories. In the setting of their proselytizing videos, at least one Christ Pantocrator and three other images usually stand out in the background. Two weeks ago, in one of those recordings, he proclaimed: “Trump is not perfect; he is an imperfect instrument, but imbued with divine providence.” This confusion was seen in all its aspects at the funeral of Charlie Kirk, a young activist murdered in September, an event in which the rise of names halfway between politics and homily was confirmed.

In Latin America, where evangelical churches have been gaining ground for decades, the music and lyrics of religious discourse have penetrated public life in a way that is difficult to reverse. One of the flanks of the right-wing offensive against Claudia Sheinbaum’s government in Mexico appeals precisely to a fanaticism that harks back to the Yunque tradition. Actor Eduardo Verástegui prays a rosary in X, shoots a target with a rifle, rebels against freemasonry or describes gender or climate politics as “terrorist”.

In any case, the phenomenon affects different ideological sectors. In the last days of maximum tension with the United States, Nicolás Maduro also took advantage of the boost of religious fervor. “As President of the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, I, Nicolás Maduro Moros, voluntarily from the Palace of Miraflores, today, Tuesday, November 18, 2025, declare that I ratify our Lord Jesus Christ as the lord and owner of Venezuela,” he proclaimed in a solemn act. At the same time, sinister influencers are proliferating. “Do you know why those who follow me (sic) are successful? Do you know why those who follow me receive criticism? No… it’s not because it’s me.” point love… I’m not the reason. Because whoever follows me actually follows Jesus”, he wrote last week in a post on Instagram which concluded with two passages from the Gospel of John. Without the slightest trace of irony.