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Christian nationalism is reshaping the moral language of US foreign policy and endangering pluralist democracy.
Less than a week after American bombs started to drop on Iran in late February, evangelical pastors famously gathered in the Oval Office to lay hands on a president unilaterally executing a war. It remains an emblematic moment, one of the more clarifying silhouettes of our political mood now sweeping through digital spaces.
That image and many more like it circulated instantly around the country and the world lifting the veil of a bigger story that's gone under-reported: Christian nationalism reshaping the moral language of US foreign policy and endangering pluralist democracy, as the Oval Office is transformed into a quasi-liturgical space in which war is cast as divine sanction, one that is specifically hostile to American Muslims in important ways.
The consecration of a president by a covey of clergy (eyes closed and heads bowed) in the heart of a secular and multicultural democracy illuminates a political culture in which narrow religious narratives are permitted to exert greater influence on how foreign conflicts are imagined and justified in the American public sphere. In our current context, Iran is cast not simply as a strategic adversary but as an apocalyptic antagonist that must be defeated because it is God’s plan. In other words, a major geopolitical event is refashioned into a scriptural caricature that prefigures war in the presumed theater of Armageddon.
What is hardly considered in our context at home is the domestic consequence of that caricature. The United States is not an evangelical nation, despite the bloated conceits of mega-churches, maudlin politicians, and rock star preachers. It is a pluralistic one—home to millions of Catholics, mainline Protestants, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Hindus, and nonbelievers. When a specific strand of evangelical eschatology is invited to run the theological grammar of American foreign policy, it shapes how Washington thinks about Iran, a Muslim country; and it also messages how Washington may think about the millions of American Muslims who share a religious tradition with the country being bombed and caricatured. The revival of Crusade-like language among those at the apex of American political and military authority thickens the margins of already marginalized and vulnerable communities. The San Diego mosque shooting, undoubtedly horrific, was one of several indicators of the rise of Islamophobia since the start of the US-Israeli war on Iran.
An administration that reaches any agreement or capitulation with Iran must contend with a powerful domestic constituency for whom any settlement carries the implicit suggestion that the prophetic script was wrong.
These observations are not a call to police theological conviction. But those steering American power toward a militant democracy owe the public transparency about how directly end-times rhetoric about the Muslim world is shaping the foreign policy of a government that still boasts about its pluralism. It should also reckon with the domestic costs of the language of demonization, which places at great risk on the mosques and neighborhoods of American cities and towns.
This dynamic is precarious not merely because of the literalist theology itself but because of its digital velocity. Christian Zionist eschatology has interpreted Middle Eastern events through biblical end-times prophecy for decades; spread through pews, big tents, publishing houses, radio ministries, and cable television. What has changed is the infrastructure of mediation. Images that are dense with symbolism, such as those of evangelical pastors pressing their hands on a president whom they know is irreligious, traverse the globe, crossing denominational boundaries and reaching international audiences instantly.
Free of the guardrails of moral premises, algorithms now act as transnational religious authorities made not of flesh and intellect but of unseen codes, engineered to decide which images and voices are amplified and which are left behind. Algorithmic power does not operate with corrections—no scholarly review or denominational pushback. Its only function is to maximize attention. The meta-platform effect reinforces the frame that American power and divine providence are aligned, and that Iran and the larger Muslim world stand in opposition to both.
Evangelical militancy circulating through algorithmic feeds that reaches tens of millions is structural in a precise sense: Digital scale generates not merely larger audiences but a self-righteous zealotry that feeds on an epistemic apparition—rationales for war and self-defense narratives that present themselves as a well-reasoned, evidence-based mandate.
An administration that reaches any agreement or capitulation with Iran must contend with a powerful domestic constituency for whom any settlement carries the implicit suggestion that the prophetic script was wrong and that the prayers of the pastors who laid hands on the president spectacularly failed—an extraordinary sacred cost with no secular equivalent.
That cost is borne not only by strategists calculating political survival, but by every American citizen whose religious identity, ancestry, and moral convictions place them outside the religious consensus that currently holds the room and exposes their communities and institutions to the kinetic costs of pernicious public discourses.
"The silence from Democrats when Muslim colleagues and candidates are attacked is a cancerous rot."
Congresswoman Summer Lee spoke at length Thursday evening about recent anti-Muslim attacks that have been launched by Republicans as well as the corporate media against two progressive political leaders—reserving much of her condemnation for Democratic lawmakers who have remained silent as Rep. Rashida Tlaib and US House candidate Adam Hamawy have been both directly and indirectly accused of "terrorism" in recent days.
"Democrats, we are way too quiet right now," said Lee (D-Pa.) in a three-minute video she posted on her official social media accounts. "This is a moral rot that we are dealing with, and I hope that we will not stand by and let this particular hatred grow and grow until it's out of our control."
Lee spoke up a day after Rep. Max Miller (R-Ohio) openly accused Tlaib, the only Palestinian-American member of Congress, of advocating "for terrorists on a daily basis" during a debate on a proposal she introduced to block US forces from taking part in Israel's invasion of Lebanon—a war powers resolution that ultimately failed to pass Thursday after House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) and more than 100 other Democrats joined the GOP in opposing it.
More than 3,500 Lebanese people have been killed and 1.2 million have been forcibly displaced since Israel began attacking Lebanon in March, in what it says is an effort to defeat Hezbollah. Israeli officials have said they are using the Israel Defense Forces' (IDF) decimation of Gaza as a "model" in Lebanon.
While Tlaib advocated on the House floor for Lebanese civilians, Miller characterized Hezbollah as “butchers that you like to hang out with to a certain extent,” addressing the progressive congresswoman—prompting her to demand that Miller's comments be stricken from the record and accusing him of a "direct attack on my character."
Rep. Brian Mast (R-Fla.), who volunteered to serve in the IDF in 2015, also said supporters of Tlaib's resolution were acting as "proxies for Hezbollah."
In her statement Thursday, Lee said, "Yesterday on the House floor, two different Republicans basically called my sister Rashida a terrorist for nothing more than being there, being Palestinian, being Muslim, being a woman."
She emphasized that the attacks on Tlaib followed similar remarks about congressional candidate Dr. Adam Hamawy, a retired US Army surgeon who volunteered to treat victims of Israel's assault on Gaza and saved the life of Sen. Tammy Duckworth (D-Ill.) after her helicopter was shot down in Iraq in 2004.
Before voters in New Jersey's 12th Congressional District went to the polls this week to vote in the primary the progressive Democrat won, opponents attacked him for his former association with Omar Abdel-Rahman, a cleric who was convicted of terrorism in 1995 and whom Hamawy said he met through the Egyptian-American community in New Jersey.
Rep. Jared Moskowitz (D-Fla.) said Hamawy was "not in line with our values," and The New York Times focused its subheadline on Abdel-Rahman in its report on Hamawy's primary victory, before editing the subhead.
"The anti-Muslim rhetoric is picking up," said Lee on Thursday. "And we don't often talk about how dangerous that is, and we also don't talk about how dangerous it is to our coalition. As the Democratic Party, we are supposed to be the ones that are the standard-setters, the ones who are fighting for justice and equal opportunity and liberation, and if we aren't able to speak up against this right now, then how can we continue to hold that particular mantle?"
"It's not just Republicans who are dealing in this," she added. "I've heard Democrats use and deal in some of the worst tropes and stereotypes of my Muslim colleagues."
Lee was applauded for speaking out about attacks that Democratic leaders had not directly addressed—and that Jeffries was accused of amplifying recently when he said he planned to speak to Hamawy about "his past affiliations."
"Incredibly brave stuff for Summer to explicitly name and condemn Democratic Islamophobia and do so on broad terms," said organizer and writer Cole Sandick. "I hope more elected progressives follow her lead."
Lee emphasized that "no marginalized person should have to deal with the abuse that they are dealing with daily from the White House on down, by themselves."
"So I just really hope that we can be as clear about anti-Muslim hate as we are about all the other forms of hatred that we're fighting back right now," she added, "and recognize that our liberation is tied together."
When powerful men and women with microphones and platforms tell the public that Muslim Americans are enemies, invaders, and less than human, some people listen. Some people act. Two teenagers in San Diego just did.
A hate crime had struck close to home. On the TV screen, more than four dozen police cars, blue lights swirling in a cold, mechanical rhythm. The news ticker crawled across the bottom of the TV screen, sanitizing horror into a newsbreak: police responding to an "incident" in San Diego's Clairemont Mesa neighborhood. An incident. I didn't think much of it at first. Then my phone rang. A friend. I couldn't bring myself to answer. Moments later, a text came through, cryptic, short and to the point: "Check on the Imam, shooting at the Islamic Center."
The world stopped.
I scrolled through my contacts, found the number, and dialed. My heart hammered against my chest with every ring. Then his voice. I closed my eyes. "We are okay. The school children are safe. We evacuated the mosque," Imam Taha said.
I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding. But okay, I would learn in the minutes and hours that followed, that was not the whole story. Three men who had been okay that morning would never be okay again.
The politicians who run their election campaigns casting American Muslims as enemies owe this community more than thoughts and prayers.
Under the steady and visionary leadership of Imam Taha Hassane, the Islamic Center of San Diego has grown into far more than a place of worship. It is a living, breathing hub of culture and education, a place where faith leaders of every denomination and neighbors of every background have always found an open door and a welcoming table. It is, in the truest sense of the word, a community, one that has spent decades building bridges in a city that repaid the generosity with bullets.
In less than 10 minutes, hate stole the life of three human beings. Amin Abdullah, who welcomed you with a curious smile when you came in, a father and a husband. Mansour Kaziha, a husband, father, and grandfather who greeted his community every day from behind the mosque store counter. And Nader Awad, who, as bullets tore through the air around him, ran into the fire to save others. Three men. Three families shattered. A community in mourning.
This hate crime did not occur in isolation. It comes amid an unprecedented and metastasizing culture of Islamophobia in the United States, where politicians have discovered that Muslim hate is a reliable path to election and commentators have built empires of followers on the broken backs of a vilified community. The names attached to this campaign are not fringe figures shouting into the void from dark corners of the internet. They are sitting senators. Elected congressmen. A president of the United States and his closest advisers. They speak from podiums, not podcasts, and have press secretaries, not anonymous accounts. And they have never—not once—been made to answer for what their words have unleashed.
As a presidential candidate, Donald Trump claimed that “Islam hates us." His close associate Laura Loomer wasted no time making the blood of victims useful to her agenda. Hours after the shooting, questioned the shooting calling it “The mosque that was 'supposedly' shot up today… people who attend this mosque want us all to be killed." Three men were murdered, and she called the victims a threat.
Sen. Tommy Tuberville (R-Ala.) says of Islam, “The enemy is inside the gates.” Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) wants Big Brother to monitor Muslim neighborhoods. Congressman Randy Fine (R-Fla.) is the most explicit in spewing hate, declaring, “We need more Islamophobia, not less.”
Imagine the cry if another congressman said we need more Jewish hate.
A Washington Post investigation found that since the beginning of 2025, more than 100 members of Congress have mentioned Muslims or Islam in social media posts, with two-thirds of those posts referencing radical Islam, Sharia law, extremism, or terrorism. According to the Council on American-Islamic Relations, these statements have amplified Islamophobia and created an environment that fosters discrimination against Muslims. Hate and Islamophobia appear to be a winning election strategy for Republican candidates in November.
When powerful men and women with microphones and platforms tell the public that Muslim Americans are enemies, invaders, and less than human, some people listen. Some people act. Two teenagers in San Diego just did.
I will say something that many might find abhorrent, but that I believe with every fiber of my being: The murderers Cain Clark and Caleb Vazquez were also victims. Not of the same order as Amin, Mansour, and Nader, for nothing diminishes what was taken from those three men, their families, and community. But victims, nonetheless. Victims of a political and media ecosystem that fed them a steady dose of dehumanization, paranoia, and hatred of Muslims. They were radicalized by adults who knew exactly what they were doing but faced no accountability for it. Trump, Loomer, Tuberville, Fine, and many others did not pull the trigger, but they loaded the gun with the bullets of hate and pointed it at a place of worship. The blood of five people—including those two teenagers—is on their hands.
The failure is not at the federal level only. In the City of San Diego, Mayor Tod Gloria's performance of solidarity rings hollow against his record of deliberate exclusion. His administration refused to call for even a symbolic ceasefire as genocide unfolded in Gaza. He declined to meet with Muslim and Arab community leaders, fearing the political cost for acknowledging Palestinian life. Most recently, his City Council moved to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism, a Zionist tool to silence voices critical of Israel’s malevolent policies. Every one of these decisions sent a message to San Diego's Muslim community: We don’t value you unless you’re dead, and your lives are worth less than the political comfort of those in power. That message was heard far beyond City Hall.
That dismissal, that deliberate erasure was incubated, fertilized, watered, and brought to lethal bloom by years of sanctioned dehumanization of Muslim Americans and sent a signal to every hateful actor watching: This community is fair game.
San Diego Mayor Gloria, who dismissed our cries in life, has no standing to console us in death. The politicians who run their election campaigns casting American Muslims as enemies owe this community more than thoughts and prayers.
The blood in San Diego does not belong only to two lost teenagers. It belongs to everyone who fed them, directly or indirectly, the ideology of Muslim hate.