Our Future: Evangelical Christians - Politics Trump Beliefs

Roy Moore's place in the world of American politics in 2017 is as much an anomaly as it is commonplace, in a sense. Though his run was unsuccessful, an American politician even having a shot at holding elected office after having verifiable reports of pedophilia surface is unprecedented. But the ways conservatism functions and travels within American politics have shifted to a dramatic degree in the last two years. A known pedophile having the potential to hold a seat in the Senate is certainly unprecedented, but no longer is it particularly difficult to imagine.

Perhaps the most startling part of the whole affair for many was the overwhelming support Moore had among Evangelical Christians in Alabama, an issue Amy Sullivan explores in her recent opinion piece for The New York Times. As Sullivan points out, Evangelicalism in many parts of America is hardly about faith and religion anymore as it is about a supposed moral high ground dictated by specific political views. And the guidelines for what political stances are to be deemed moral, of course, did not materialize out of thin air. Rather, they've been carefully crafted by the right wing media, who for years have dictated the stances that a good, wholesome, Christian American should hold if they're to be deemed respectable.

Where I differ from Sullivan is the idea that this is anything new. The fundamental function of religious identity as a political token has been imbedded in the American Conservative party for decades now. The Republican Party has been acutely aware of the political potential of the Evangelical Christian identity since the Reagan era, and it's something they've fashioned to their political needs with each successive era. What may be more accurate is to say that the Trump era has exposed the extent to which that identity has been weaponized.

The political force of the Evangelical right is something that anyone under the LGBTQ umbrella is likely well aware of already. Looking back through the Evangelical right's history, what they've likely been most successful with within the political sphere is their push back against the LGBTQ movement. And with the continued relevance of debate surrounding ideologues like Kim Davis and legislation such as bathroom bills, it's undeniable that they're still a viable force within our current political landscape.

But if the Alabama race is to tell us anything, it's that an understanding of the Evangelical right as a force based in faith is unfounded. As Sullivan notes, two of the greatest talking points within the Evangelical right is a strong stance against immigration, as well as a strict interpretation of the second amendment. Sure, one might be able to logically reason why someone might interpret passages in the Bible to be anti-homosexuality, but progressing into the Trump era, the beliefs held by the Evangelical right have strayed so far from any sort of grounding in faith, it's irresponsible to still be treating them as a religious movement.

Though for decades hard opposition against cultural influence of religion has been prevalent within discussions regarding the LGBTQ movement. It's understandable given the battle for marriage equality why that's the case too, but the function and political value of the wholesome, Evangelical American hasn't fundamentally changed in the last few years, it's simply exposed itself to a degree it hadn't previously. It was never about religion. It was about how religion could be used as a political tool for the increasingly fascist brand of conservatism that now dominates in America.

Roy Moore and Trump should give enough material to reflect upon regarding the current state of politics, but perhaps most importantly it should justify a revaluation for how conservatism in America needs to be challenged. Attacking the Evangelical right for their religious beliefs does nothing but feed into a narrative that's already serving as the basis for their Us vs. Them politics. Rather, we should be looking at how the conservative identity is constructed in the first place, and the blame for that falls flatly on the tight knit community of reporters, politicians, and pundits that have dominated the discussion for decades now.

The backlash against identity politics that followed Trump's victory last year wasn't entirely unfounded, though it was misguided to see it as a problem most prominent on the left. Conservative politics have relied dearly on identity politics for decades now. Much of what allowed Trump to win, and what almost let Moore win, was a validation of that identity as a true and authentic thing, rather than something that was carefully constructed and sold to the working class in America. If we're going to counter it moving forward, the focus should be on deconstructing how and why that identity is created, and what can be done to devalue its cultural capital. Treating the Evangelical right as anything but the result of a handful of powerful millionaires trying to gain more money and power is irresponsible.

Kyle Mangione-Smith is a filmmaker and student living in Boston.