In a recent interview with The New York Times, four-star general John Kelly said that he believed former President Donald Trump met the definition of a fascist leader.
Kelly, who served from 2017 to 2019 as Trump’s chief of staff, compared definitions of fascism with Trump’s behavior: “Certainly the former president is in the far-right area, he’s certainly an authoritarian, admires people who are dictators — he has said that. So he certainly falls into the general definition of fascist, for sure.”
As I’ve written before, “fascist” isn’t a word I ever use lightly. It’s not a word that resonates with most Americans, and I’ve worried using that word will only further polarize our deeply divided nation. But Trump’s escalating rhetoric, especially over the past few months, calls for moral clarity: It is time to state emphatically that Trump’s rhetoric is increasingly and dangerously fascist. Since we know that this kind of language creates a permission structure to justify and incite violence, Christians of all stripes must condemn language that crosses that line.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines fascism as “an authoritarian and nationalistic right-wing system of government and social organization.” The Council on Foreign Relations expands this definition, explaining fascism as “a mass political movement that emphasizes extreme nationalism, militarism, and the supremacy of the nation over the individual.” CFR also notes that fascist regimes advance ethnocentric nationalism, portray their leaders as “great figures to be loved and admired,” and often use government channels to mobilize mass popular movements for their party.
Sadly, many of these traits have been all-too-present in our politics. Trump has long exhibited authoritarian tendencies, including his attempts to weaken the legitimacy of his critics and political opponents as well as his efforts to sow distrust in the integrity of the election. But what makes his recent rhetoric veer into fascism is his willingness to use the military to go after his opponents and his heightened appeals to ethnocentric nationalism.
For example, he recently claimed that “the enemy from within…radical left lunatics” might cause chaos on Election Day and suggested that the National Guard or the military should “handle” them. His ethnocentric nationalism includes repeated statements that undocumented immigrants are “poisoning the blood” of the nation, a rhetorical strategy of many fascist leaders. In more than 20 campaign events Politico reviewed since the Sept. 10 presidential debate, “Trump has demonized minority groups and used increasingly dark, graphic imagery to talk about migrants in every one of his speeches.” He has even claimed that migrant people accused of violent crimes have “bad genes,” a plainly racist assertion. Furthermore, he has called for “the largest deportation in the history of our country” and promised to use the National Guard to carry them out.
This type of fascist rhetoric is plenty distressing on its own; racism and attacking one’s political enemies are just plain morally wrong. But we also have a long record of these tactics being used by other strongmen political leaders to gain and consolidate power and commit some of the worst atrocities of the 20th century. As Anne Applebaum recently noted in The Atlantic, Trump’s rhetoric around migrant people and his political opponents evokes clear parallels to Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin, Benito Mussolini, Mao Zedong, Pol Pot, and others.
Of course, Trump’s dangerous rhetoric and tactics aren’t new to this country. The pernicious myth of white supremacy, toxic theologies of Christian nationalism, and pervasive fearmongering against a racialized “other” are as old as the country itself. These beliefs have often been used to justify this country’s most shameful chapters, including chattel slavery; genocide of Indigenous Americans; Jim Crow; the Chinese Exclusion Act; and bigotry toward immigrants of many nations and religious identities. Neither is this the first time we’ve faced the danger of populist politicians with an authoritarian streak that prize winning and retribution over democratic norms; we need only look at President Andrew Jackson, for whom Trump has repeatedly expressed his admiration. In other words, none of this originates with Trump, and the danger of this fascist strain in our nation and politics will not go away once Trump leaves the political scene.
But though this rhetoric isn’t new, it has very real and dire consequences: As human rights professor Susan Benesch noted, Trump’s anti-Muslim and anti-Hispanic rhetoric has “helped to shift discourse norms in our country such that it is more acceptable among more people to denigrate and attack other groups of human beings.”
Over Zero, an organization that works to counteract and prevent identity-based violence and other forms of group-targeted harm, finds that preventing political and identity-based violence requires “speaking to the conditions that make violence seem permissible or necessary and providing non-violent, pro-democracy paths forward.”
Which is why it’s important that people of faith play a key role in pushing back against fascist rhetoric and speak out against its dangers whenever it surfaces in our public life.
Yet amid intensifying fascist rhetoric, the response from many Christian leaders, especially conservative Christian leaders, has often been a deafening silence — or, even worse, endorsement. At the annual “Opening the Heavens” conference, one of several charismatic Christian conferences featuring overt support for Donald Trump this year, pastors like Hank Kunneman proclaimed: “We break every curse against Donald Trump — we break every satanic incantation against his presidency.” These are hardly the words of a pastor concerned about Trump’s recent dangerous rhetoric. And just as churches in previous historical eras because they feared the spread of communism, many conservative Christians have openly made the argument this year that the protection of the U.S.’s identity as a supposedly Christian nation depends on either defending or ignoring fascist campaign rhetoric that no Christian should excuse.
In welcome contrast, we have seen some conservative Christian voices who have steadfastly denounced the rhetoric of the Trump movement whenever it has veered into dangerous territory. For example, more than 200 evangelical Christian leaders, including Walter Kim of the National Association of Evangelicals and Timothy Head of the Faith & Freedom Coalition, released a letter to presidential candidates condemning “dehumanizing language” and calling instead for “biblical principles for immigration.”
Self-identified “evangelical conservative” columnist David French wrote this summer: “Hateful rhetoric plus widespread dissemination eventually equals violence. Think of it like this: If five people hate you, then the chances that any one of them would try to hurt you is low. But what if 50,000 people hate you? Or 50 million?”
Russell Moore, editor in chief of Christianity Today, reacted to the bomb threats called in against elementary schools in Springfield, Ohio in the wake of Trump and Vance’s lies about Haitian immigrants by tweeting: “The cruelty to and lying about Haitian immigrant families is satanic to the core. Children are terrified and God is mocked. The time for repentance is now.” We need more Christian leaders, including conservative ones, to make similar statements.
I recognize that it takes courage to name and denounce fascism in our politics — and we must do so regardless of who or what party crosses this bright line. Speaking out can include comments from the pulpit; on social media; and in conversations with friends, family, congregants, and coworkers. We can denounce fascist rhetoric and remain nonpartisan by emphasizing that it has no place in our politics and civil discourse — full stop. The alternative is to ignore it, which will ultimately mean enabling and normalizing it in ways that undermine our cherished democratic norms and democracy itself. By ignoring and remaining silent about rhetoric that dehumanizes and seeks to punish our enemies, we also place our very freedoms in peril and endanger those who are often the most marginalized in our midst.
I’m reminded of the words of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. who said, “Cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity asks the question, ‘Is it popular?’ But, conscience asks the question, ‘Is it right?’”
Fascist rhetoric has become increasingly safe, politic, and, alarmingly, even popular. It is time for every Christian to make it crystal clear that this kind of language — and the violence it inspires — are still never right.