The Consequences of Literalism

Evangelical Christianity, Political Misalignment, and the Erosion of American Democracy

In the early centuries of Christianity, the assembly of the canonical Bible was a pivotal moment, not just theologically but politically. The Council of Nicaea (325 CE) and subsequent councils sought to unify a fragmented Christian movement by selecting scriptures that resonated broadly with diverse communities. These texts prioritized accessibility and emotional appeal over philosophical depth, a choice that excluded complex metaphysical concepts like reincarnation—central to Hinduism, Buddhism, and pagan traditions but absent in Judaism and the selected Christian texts. This deliberate curation, favoring simpler narratives, shaped a literalist worldview that has profoundly influenced American evangelicalism, particularly among fundamentalists and Southern Baptists. This literalism, rooted in the Bible’s selection, has fostered a susceptibility to simplistic narratives, making evangelicals vulnerable to political manipulation. Compounding this vulnerability are broader societal trends—accelerated brain aging from pandemic stress, declining cognitive abilities, and the rise of authoritarianism under leaders like Donald Trump. Together, these forces raise critical questions about the role of evangelical literalism in undermining America’s democratic principles.

The Roots of Evangelical Literalism

The canonization of the Bible in 394 AD at the Synod of Hippo marked a pivotal moment for Christianity, codifying sacred texts under the Roman Empire’s influence. Roman Emperor Constantine himself likely did not have a personal stance on literal vs. allegorical interpretation, as his focus was on unifying the Church and empire rather than dictating hermeneutics. He relied on bishops who held diverse views. Early Christians in the 4th century, when the canon was taking shape, did not adhere to a single interpretive method. Most combined literal and allegorical approaches, with the literal sense dominating for historical narratives (e.g., the Gospels) and allegorical readings applied to prophetic, poetic, or typological texts (e.g., Old Testament foreshadowing Christ).The choice between literal and allegorical depended on the text, the theological purpose, and the interpreter’s tradition (e.g., Antiochene vs. Alexandrian). This flexibility allowed early Christians to adapt Scripture to diverse contexts, from apologetics to worship, while affirming its authority.

Over the thousand years of the Middle Ages, with good reason aka the Dark Ages, the teachings of Christ were increasingly corrupted by institutional power. By the 10th century, the Church wielded immense political and economic control, often straying from spiritual purity. A notorious example is the conversion of Norman leader Rollo in 911 AD, baptized before the Frankish king in Paris (near the Île de la Cité, home of Notre-Dame). Rollo’s cynical celebration—executing 100 prisoners—epitomized the era’s moral contradictions, where Christian rituals masked ruthless pragmatism.

Corruption deepened with practices like the selling of indulgences, peaking in the Middle Ages. Clergy offered forgiveness of sins for money, exploiting believers’ fears of eternal punishment. Simony (buying ecclesiastical offices) and nepotism further eroded trust, as did the Church’s vast wealth and landholdings, which contrasted starkly with Christ’s teachings of humility and poverty.

The Inquisition was a series of institutions established to combat heresy, with the Medieval Inquisition starting around 1184 and lasting for several centuries, while the Spanish Inquisition began in 1478 and ended in 1834. The Medieval Inquisition, which included the Episcopal and Papal Inquisition, was focused on suppressing movements like Catharism and Waldensianism. The Spanish Inquisition, established by Ferdinand and Isabella, aimed to maintain Catholic orthodoxy and replaced the earlier Medieval Inquisition. Other notable inquisitions include the Roman Inquisition, which targeted Protestantism, and the Portuguese Inquisition, which also had colonial branches. 

The Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, sparked by Martin Luther’s 1517 Ninety-Five Theses, sought to address these abuses, rejecting indulgences and emphasizing scripture over tradition. Yet, it birthed its own deviances: sectarian violence, rigid dogmas, and new forms of intolerance. By the 17th century, Puritan extremists, fleeing persecution, established colonies in America, enforcing strict theocratic rule. Their zeal, while disciplined, often veered into oppressive rigidity and anti-Christian practices, as seen in the Salem witch trials.

The US Constitution’s guarantee of religious freedom, and a big continent of land yet to be settled by Europeans, created a fertile ground for diverse faiths but also for charlatans. From 19th-century revivalist scams to modern televangelist empires, the promise of salvation has been exploited for power and riches, echoing the indulgences of old in new guises.

The ambiguity of many Bible texts that, over centuries, through translation and transcriptions across languages, was amplified by hucksters. Interpretive flexibility allowed charlatans to exploit the Bible for personal gain, undermining its spiritual authority. Joseph Smith, founder of Mormonism, exemplifies this. Convicted of fraud in 1826, Smith claimed divine revelation to produce the Book of Mormon, a text lacking historical or archaeological support. His motives—power, wealth, and polygamy—drove a movement that now claims millions. Similarly, David Koresh, leader of the Branch Davidians, manipulated apocalyptic biblical interpretations to control followers, seeking sex and power, culminating in the 1993 Waco disaster.

Modern megachurch pastors, often millionaires, further illustrate this issue through prosperity theology, which equates wealth with divine favor. Kenneth Copeland, with a net worth of approximately $300 million, promotes this doctrine, amassing wealth through private jets and lavish properties while urging followers to donate for divine blessings. Joel Osteen, worth $100 million, leads Lakewood Church and preaches a self-help-style gospel, criticized for prioritizing personal gain over biblical teachings. Creflo Dollar ($30 million) and T.D. Jakes ($20 million) similarly emphasize financial success, with Dollar’s teachings linked to a “contract” with God for prosperity. Jesse Duplantis ($20 million) and Benny Hinn, known for questionable healing ministries, also profit from this theology. These pastors, often lacking formal theological training, build empires on donations, living opulently while citing Scripture to justify their wealth.

Smaller-scale charlatans from back in the 1970s-80s like Jim Bakker (convicted of fraud) and Jimmy Swaggart (disgraced by scandals), mirror these patterns, exploiting biblical ambiguity for personal gain. The absence of a unified interpretive framework and the Bible’s susceptibility to manipulation by untrained or self-serving figures diminish its reliability as a clear spiritual guide.

The Puritans brought a Calvinist theology emphasizing predestination, moral purity, and the Bible as the literal word of God. This foundation was amplified during the First Great Awakening (1730s–1740s), led by figures like Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield, who prioritized personal conversion and emotional preaching. Unlike sophisticated religious systems such as Buddhism, which embrace allegorical interpretations and metaphysical concepts, early American evangelicals adhered to a literal reading of scripture. For instance, the Genesis creation narrative was taken as historical fact, despite its parallels with Mesopotamian myths. This rejection of nuance in favor of binary moral absolutes made evangelicals susceptible to improbable narratives, whether religious or political, as long as they aligned with their scriptural framework.

By the late 19th century, evangelicalism had splintered into sects like fundamentalism and the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC). Fundamentalism, a reaction to modernist theology and Darwinian evolution, doubled down on biblical inerrancy, with leaders like Dwight L. Moody rejecting allegorical interpretations. The SBC, formed in 1845 to defend slavery, blended evangelical zeal with Southern identity, becoming a dominant force in the American South. This literalism had profound consequences: stories like Jonah and the whale, clearly allegorical in their Near Eastern context, were treated as historical fact, conditioning adherents to accept other improbable claims, from miracle cures to political promises.

Political Missteps and Unintended Consequences

Evangelical literalism translated into political action with significant consequences. In the early 20th century, evangelicals allied with the women’s suffrage movement, driven by shared Christian moralism, to push for social reforms. Their influence culminated in the 18th Amendment (1920), enacting Prohibition. Evangelicals saw alcohol as a moral evil, citing verses like Ephesians 5:18. However, their rigid ideology blinded them to Prohibition’s practical fallout. Rather than fostering moral purity, it fueled the Roaring Twenties’ lawlessness, empowering ethnic mafia syndicates—Italian, Irish, and Jewish—that capitalized on the black market. Figures like Al Capone amassed wealth and influence. Evangelicals, in their pursuit of biblical ideals, inadvertently strengthened the forces they sought to suppress, highlighting the dangers of applying literalist ideology to governance.

During World War II, US intelligence, through Operation Underworld, collaborated with the Italian-American Mafia, including figures like Lucky Luciano, to secure New York’s waterfront against sabotage. Luciano’s Sicilian contacts aided the 1943 Allied invasion of Sicily. Post-war, the CIA worked with Corsican and Italian mafias in Marseille to counter Communist influence, notably supporting the Guerini brothers in disrupting strikes during the Cold War. The Corsican Unione Corse, involved in the French Connection heroin trade, operated with relative impunity until the 1970s. UK intelligence, while less documented, shared close ties with the CIA, likely engaging in similar covert operations.

Mafia organizations have historically influenced nations and corporations. The American Mafia, particularly the Italian-American Cosa Nostra, shaped urban development in cities like Las Vegas through casino investments, funneling illegal profits into legitimate businesses like Warner Brothers and MCA, which benefited from mob-controlled unions and distribution networks. Jewish-American mobsters, like Meyer Lansky, supported Israel’s formation by funding paramilitary groups like Haganah through illicit gains. The Israeli Mafia later emerged, with figures like Zeev Rosenstein engaging in global crime. These organizations infiltrated politics and economies, leveraging extortion, gambling, and trafficking to amass power, often intertwining with state and corporate structures

Meanwhile, the evangelical political machine gained momentum in the 1980s with Ronald Reagan’s election, supported by the SBC and the Moral Majority, led by Jerry Falwell. Reagan’s administration paid lip service to Christian values—anti-abortion stances, family values—while pursuing deregulation, privatization, and a hawkish foreign policy. All through the 1980s, the administration and the CIA, led by “Wild” Bill Casey, bypassing Congressional bans, illegally sold arms to Iran and funded Contra rebels in Nicaragua, while funding a murderous regime in El Salvador, both of which committed atrocities against tens of thousands of their own people, though mostly the ones of indigenous descent. Former military or airline pilots like Barry Seal flew weapons from the US to Nicaragua, often returning with drugs, implicating US officials and regional operatives. Evangelicals, swayed by Reagan’s biblical rhetoric and anti-communist fervor, overlooked these contradictions, their literalist worldview equating political alignment with divine will.

Trump and the Culmination of Literalist Vulnerability

The election of Donald Trump in 2016 marked the apex of evangelical political misjudgment. Despite his personal conduct—multiple divorces, allegations of sexual misconduct, and a history of deceit—Trump won 81% of the white evangelical vote, according to Pew Research. Evangelicals viewed him as a defender of Christian values, particularly on abortion and religious liberty, despite his lack of piety. His simplistic “Make America Great Again” slogan resonated with a community conditioned to accept absolutist narratives. Trump’s policies, however, often contradicted evangelical interests: his tax cuts favored the wealthy, and his healthcare proposals threatened working-class communities. His false claims, such as election fraud in 2020, exploited the same credulity rooted in the canonical Bible’s emotionally charged, less philosophically rigorous texts.

This vulnerability to manipulation is compounded by broader societal trends. A 2025 study in Nature Communications revealed that the COVID-19 pandemic accelerated brain aging, even in those never infected, due to stress, isolation, and uncertainty. The University of Nottingham’s research, using UK Biobank data, found that brain aging was more pronounced in older people, men, and those from disadvantaged backgrounds—groups overlapping with evangelical demographics. The flood of 350,000 untested chemicals in our food and water, as Julian Cribb’s 2025 study notes, correlates with rising neurological disorders, further impairing the public’s ability to resist authoritarian narratives. This cognitive decline, coupled with a reported IQ drop of 15 points over half a century (as noted by Norwegian scientists), suggests that people already prone to simplistic narratives, may be increasingly susceptible to manipulation, creating a perfect storm for political exploitation.

The Erosion of Democratic Norms

The Trump administration’s actions in 2025 further illustrate the consequences of evangelical support and declining cognitive capacity. On August 11, 2025, Trump declared “Liberation Day,” placing Washington, DC’s police under federal control and deploying 800 National Guard troops. This move, justified as a public safety measure, targeted the homeless and reshaped local autonomy, leveraging DC’s constitutional vulnerability as a federal district. The Supreme Court’s 2024 ruling on presidential immunity enabled such actions, granting broad protection for “official acts.” This legal framework, combined with evangelical-backed GOP policies, has facilitated a slide toward authoritarianism. The absence of institutional resistance—silent judges, compliant Congress, and a cowed media—underscores the normalization of these power grabs, as described by Tom Joad in “The Liberation of Washington.”

Concurrently, the administration has relaxed oversight of corporate mergers, as Public Citizen’s 2025 analysis shows. Multibillion-dollar deals, often involving Trump-Vance inaugural donors like Hewlett Packard Enterprise, have been waved through, undermining competition and consumer welfare. The DOJ and FTC’s acquiescence, despite warnings of market concentration, reflects a broader capitulation to corporate power, enabled by evangelical voters who prioritize ideological alignment over economic reality.

Jeffrey Epstein, allegedly linked to Israeli military intelligence and the CIA, operated a sex trafficking honeypot, implicating elites in government, military, and mafia, including Russian mobsters and Donald Trump. Robert Maxwell, a suspected Mossad agent, facilitated connections. Epstein’s properties—his Manhattan townhouse, Palm Beach estate, New Mexico ranch, and private Little St. James island—allegedly hosted coerced sexual activities to blackmail influential figures, influencing government and social elites to maintain control of policy. A Saudi-gifted yacht furthered these operations. It is rumored to have housed hidden cameras and surveillance equipment, and been used for covert intelligence gathering. Allegedly, Maxwell’s connections to intelligence agencies and elite networks enabled clandestine activities aboard, fueling speculation about espionage, influence, and cover-ups involving powerful figures.

High-profile guests, including politicians and tycoons, were reportedly recorded in compromising situations, on the yacht and Epstein’s properties, granting the CIA and Israeli intelligence leverage over their governments. These allegations expose a web of power, corruption, and intelligence operations spanning decades.

Russian, Israeli, and other mafias, along with oligarchs, were key actors in the trafficking of girls, boys and young women from the former Soviet Union to the West. These networks are intertwined with the modeling and beauty industries, and certain very rich people.

Fascism’s Rise

Thom Hartmann’s August 2025 article warns of fascism’s tightening grip, with the Justice Department transformed into Trump’s “personal legal hit squad.” Political arrests, such as those of Newark Mayor Ras Baraka and Congresswoman LaMonica McIver, signal a shift toward authoritarianism. ICE’s expansion into a domestic military force, with $150 billion in funding, surpasses many global militaries and targets urban populations, as Stephen K. Hirst notes. These developments align with evangelical support for policies framed as patriotic but rooted in power consolidation. The SBC’s alliance with the GOP, solidified in 1980, has fueled this trajectory, merging theocratic zeal with corporate and military interests. Whitney Webb’s analysis ties Trump to a historical network of organized crime and intelligence, further enabled by evangelical credulity.

Evangelical literalism also intersects with geopolitical ambitions. Kyle Kulinski and Whitney Webb highlight Israel’s influence, with evangelicals supporting its actions due to apocalyptic beliefs, such as the Rapture—a 19th-century SBC invention not found in the Bible. This millenarianism, combined with US-Israeli strategic interests, risks escalating conflicts, potentially with Iran, as evangelicals overlook contradictions like Israel’s attacks on Christian communities in Gaza.

Cognitive Decline and Societal Implications

The cognitive decline documented by Julian Cribb in 2025 compounds these issues. A reported IQ drop of 3.4 points per decade, linked to chemical exposure and societal stressors, weakens problem-solving and reasoning abilities. This trend, most pronounced in the U.S., where environmental regulations are being repealed, aligns with evangelical communities’ susceptibility to manipulation. The flood of 350,000 untested chemicals, as Cribb notes, correlates with rising neurological disorders, further impairing the public’s ability to resist authoritarian narratives. This cognitive erosion, combined with evangelical literalism, creates a perfect storm for political exploitation.

The consistent harm caused by evangelical political choices—Prohibition’s empowerment of organized crime, complicity in Iran-Contra, and support for Trump’s authoritarianism—raises a provocative question: should those whose ideologies oppose the rational foundations of American democracy retain unfettered voting rights? The Declaration of Independence and Constitution prioritize reason and liberty, yet evangelical literalism, rooted in a selectively assembled Bible, rejects critical inquiry. Denying voting rights is a drastic measure, historically reserved for extreme cases, but the pattern of voting against the public good warrants consideration. Potential solutions could involve civic education requirements or restrictions for those prioritizing ideological purity over empirical reality, though such measures risk abuse without rigorous safeguards.

The history of American evangelicalism reflects the consequences of a Bible curated for simplicity of belief and emotional appeal rather than philosophical depth, a literalist worldview that rejects allegory and embraces simplistic narratives. This mindset has led evangelicals to support policies and leaders—from Prohibition to Trump—that undermine their interests and America’s democratic principles. Compounded by cognitive decline from pandemic stress and chemical exposure, this vulnerability threatens the republic’s stability. The Trump administration’s authoritarian moves, enabled by evangelical support and institutional acquiescence, put us in a do or die situation. Addressing the dangers of blind faith and cognitive erosion requires urgent action—whether through education, institutional reform, or, controversially, restrictions on political participation—to safeguard the constitutional order and prevent further democratic dissolution. It is late in the day.