Donald Trump: President, God, Antichrist
Donald Trump has turned out to be such an extraordinary person that many see him not just as a person, but as a messenger from heaven. Or hell.
Over his rather long life, Donald Trump has managed to be many things. He has been a businessman, writer, actor, TV show host, bankrupt, defendant, president, insurrectionist, and president again. At one point—jokingly or not—he even hinted at being ready to become the Pope. In the U.S., there are many who believe Trump is far more important than the head of the Catholic Church—that he is a prophet or even a messiah sent by God to save the faithful. His opponents, on the other hand, are convinced that Trump is not a messiah but the Antichrist, a servant of darkness who came to destroy humanity.
In 2021, Donald Trump claimed he had done more for Christianity than anyone else. At the time, these words seemed like just another extravagant, though typical, attempt to pander to ultra-religious Americans—whose support, due to their large numbers and political influence, is something every ambitious politician seeks. Trump had just lost the presidential election to Joe Biden and was clearly preparing for a comeback.
But even back then, there were already plenty of Americans who sincerely believed Trump was a central figure in Christianity—or at the very least, a prophet capable of breathing new life into the religion. As early as 2016, preacher Jonathan Cahn published a book titled The Paradigm, in which Trump—who had not yet formally taken office—was already being portrayed as a biblical-scale figure. Cahn, who had gained wealth and fame with books claiming, for instance, that the 9/11 attacks were divine punishment for abortion and depravity, promised that Trump would lead the U.S. into a new era of morality. The author compared Trump to the ancient Jewish king Jehu, who became famous for his uncompromising fight against idolatry and unbelief. Like the biblical king, Cahn wrote, the new American president would restore order, vanquish the enemies of the faith, and return America to its golden age.
The book sold a couple million copies, but few remember it now. Perhaps because Jehu is far from the most famous or beloved biblical character—hardly matching the larger-than-life persona Trump assigns to himself. And besides, since Trump’s political rise, there's been no shortage of books force-fitting biblical prophecy onto his biography. Cahn’s work, no matter how elaborate, simply gets lost in the crowd.
Graffiti in Gaza City mocking Trump after his decision to recognise Jerusalem as the capital of Israel (photo by Yuriy Matsarsky)
To Trump's credit, during his first term in the White House, he rarely pandered to the readers of such literature and didn’t especially emphasize his religiosity. But after losing to Joe Biden in 2021, Trump underwent a transformation. He began offering Trump-branded Bibles, complete with his signature and a stars-and-stripes cover. Evangelical celebrities appeared in his inner circle. The man himself began referencing God more often.
This religious fervor reached its peak after a failed assassination attempt during a campaign rally in the summer of 2024. Evangelical leaders saw the failed shot as a sign of divine intervention that saved Trump’s life and confirmed his status as God’s chosen one.
“That bullet went through his ear, just missing his brain by a millimeter or so, I believe God turned his head at that precise moment that saved his life,” said Franklin Graham, one of America’s most influential evangelical preachers, after the incident.
The attempt on Trump’s life triggered a fresh wave of interest in conspiracy-laden books connecting the Bible to the former president. The most extreme of these works claim outright that Trump is God Himself—Christ returned to Earth. More often, however, authors avoid such provocative language, instead calling Trump a “messiah” in the Old Testament sense of the word—not God, but a divine emissary, a great prophet.
Screenshot from the Amazon page with the book about divine nature of Trump
American fundamentalist Christianity is based on a literal reading of scripture—both Old and New Testaments. Therefore, people expect Trump to behave in ways the Bible attributes to the messiah. According to scripture, the messiah will purge heresies, defend the faith, and lead the lost back to the righteous path. From the perspective of many believers, that’s exactly what Trump is doing. He issued a presidential order establishing an annual Day of Prayer, created a religious office within the White House, and signed an executive order “On Eradicating Anti-Christian Bias.”
Trump's messianic image is reinforced by his appointments. To liberals, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth is a populist failure who drunkenly added an opposition journalist to a secret chat. To fundamentalists, he’s a warrior of Christ, covered in crusader tattoos and advocating for the rebuilding of the Jerusalem Temple.
That last point may be the most crucial one for Christian fundamentalists. It refers to the Temple built by King Solomon—the one Jesus defended by driving out the money changers, and which was destroyed by the Romans at the end of the first century CE. Ultra-religious Jews and Protestants believe it must be rebuilt at any cost, as its reconstruction would signify faith’s ultimate triumph over unbelief and mark a key step toward humanity’s salvation. However, both theological and practical obstacles stand in the way. The Temple’s former location is now occupied by the Al-Aqsa Mosque—one of Islam’s holiest sites. Any suggestion of rebuilding the Temple is seen by Muslims as a direct threat, since new construction cannot happen without demolishing the mosque.
Inside the Al-Aqsa Mosque (photo by Yuriy Matsarsky)
When Trump officially recognized Jerusalem as Israel’s capital in 2016—breaking with decades of U.S. policy that supported international oversight of the city—it sparked not only outrage in the Arab world but also fears that this might be a prelude to the destruction of Al-Aqsa. Although nothing came of it at the time, believers continue to discuss Trump’s willingness to see the Temple rebuilt.
Incidentally, the only non-Jew referred to as “messiah” in the Bible is Cyrus the Great of Persia—who earned the title by rebuilding the Temple after its first destruction. So Temple reconstruction remains the ultimate test for any would-be messiah. Most likely, Trump won’t attempt it. The risks are too great—two billion Muslims would never forgive an assault on Al-Aqsa, and Washington surely knows this.
Dome of the Rock sanctuary at the doorsteps of Al-Aqsa Mosque (photo by Yuriy Matsarsky)
Trump also fails the test for being the Antichrist, as believed by some liberal Christians in the U.S. Ironically, the same event that galvanized Trump’s supporters—the failed assassination—also gave ammunition to his detractors. According to the Book of Revelation, Satan will appear with a miraculously healed wound on one of his heads. Trump’s ear, injured in the attempt on his life, healed suspiciously quickly and without a trace—something his enemies find symbolically damning.
There’s a long list of alleged signs that Trump is the Beast foretold by John the Revelator, and the ear wound is simply the most colorful example. Most of the “evidence,” however, is as far-fetched as the messianic claims and can easily be debunked by theologians and clergy alike. But faith, by nature, does not require proof. And so, at least for the duration of Donald Trump’s presidency, there will be those who await miracles from him—and those convinced that he has come to destroy mankind.