The Deification of a Demon: Ignorance, Power, and a World Ablaze
Throughout history, humanity’s proclivity for elevating mere mortals into godlike figures has shaped civilizations, religions, and social orders. From the Pharaohs of Egypt, deemed divine incarnations of the gods, to Rome’s emperors, elevated as celestial rulers after death, history reminds us that the allure of imbuing leaders with divinity is nothing new. Often, this deification has been rooted in a desire to consolidate power by capitalizing on fear, ignorance, and blind reverence. When this act of idolization is channeled towards figures of divisiveness, the consequences reverberate far beyond mere allegiance, steering societies down treacherous paths of destruction and moral decay.
Nowhere do we see this phenomenon play out more acutely than in the modern deification of Donald Trump. To his staunchest supporters, Trump is not just a man or a former president; he is a symbol of rebellion, a purported savior in their fight against “elitism” and a fabricated enemy built upon decades of societal discontent. But the paradox is glaring. Trump, a man whose life of opulence and exploitation embodies the very structures he claims to oppose, wields power not through competence or service, but by exploiting ignorance, stoking fear, and weaponizing division.
The Corruption of a Faith Misguided
What is particularly disturbing is the role of evangelical Christianity in Trump’s ascension to near-messianic status. A faith that ostensibly champions love, compassion, and moral stewardship has been distorted to serve as a tool of political manipulation. Many in the American Christian right have abandoned the core teachings of their Christ in favor of self-serving interpretations that excuse cruelty, sexual abuse, criminality, lies, treachery, and power struggles, provided it furthers their perceived agendas. By aligning themselves with Trump, they’ve inverted their faith, glorifying a man who revels in dishonesty, greed, and vindictiveness, all in the name of a warped vision for societal “righteousness.”
Nowhere is this distortion more evident than in policies that target the vulnerable. Trump’s rhetoric on immigration, for example, is a jarring contradiction to the Biblical mandate to welcome the stranger and care for the alien. Yet swathes of his Christian supporters enthusiastically endorse dehumanizing practices that tear families apart, force asylum seekers into overcrowded detention centers, deport innocent immigrants into El Salvadoran concentration camps, and vilify those fleeing unimaginable hardship.
The Historical Deification of Darkness
History offers grim parallels to this phenomenon of glorifying destructive and divisive figures. Consider the Roman Republic’s fall into Empire. Julius Caesar, regarded as an extraordinary leader by many of his contemporaries, was posthumously deified by the Senate. His reign, while marked by military genius and political reform, also sowed brutality and brought an end to the republic’s fragile democracy. Citizens who yearned for strong leadership ignored his authoritarian streak, setting the stage for the rise of emperors like Nero, whose reign was marked by unspeakable cruelty.
Similarly, the rise of Adolf Hitler hinged on his ability to embody the grievances of a disenfranchised populace. Supported by propaganda that deified him as Germany’s savior, Hitler became the figurehead of a movement that preached superiority while crushing dissent and humanity alike. What followed was one of history’s darkest chapters. The masses turned their backs on inconvenient truths, allowing their blind faith in his vision of restoration to justify his heinous crimes.
The narrative is clear and eternal. The deification of divisive figures invariably centers on their seeming ability to give voice to suppressed anger or legitimate grievances. But in their ascension, the truth is often sacrificed, and power becomes a weapon wielded to sow discord, fear, and suffering.
The Faces of Suffering
Perhaps the clearest indictment of Trump’s deification lies in its tangible consequences on the marginalized. Among those most harmed are immigrants who sought refuge under the ideals America once prided itself on. Consider the story of Carmen, a mother of three from El Salvador, forced to flee her homeland after gang violence consumed her neighborhood. Hopeful for a new beginning, Carmen and her children embarked on the treacherous journey north. But upon reaching the U.S. border during Trump’s presidency, Carmen was met not with sanctuary, but with hostility. Her children, then aged 6, 9, and 12, were taken from her as part of the administration’s “zero tolerance” policy, a move explicitly designed to deter others from seeking asylum. What followed was months of anguish, with Carmen kept in a detention center, her children shipped to separate states without promise of reunification. The trauma her family endured was not an isolated incident, but a systemic practice justified by supporters who cheered Trump’s tough stance on immigration.
The inhumanity stretches further. Venezuelans fleeing economic collapse and persecution found themselves similarly demonized, labeled as criminals and subjected to policies that denied them refuge. Their pleas for help were drowned out by Trumpian rhetoric, which fueled a narrative of “dangerous outsiders” invading the land of opportunity.
The recent story of Mr. Abrego García, who was deported due to an “administrative error”, exemplifies the heartless mindset of this corrupt US President and his administration. Garcia was one of the 238 Venezuelans, and 23 Salvadoreans the Trump administration deported last month to El Salvador’s notorious Terrorism Confinement Centre (Cecot) under an arrangement between the two countries. Garcia was criminally detained and deported, as were many of the others sent to El Salvador.
These stories reflect the devastating cost of elevating leaders who thrive on division. When the persecuted become pawns in the political theater of deified demagogues, the collective moral fabric begins to unravel.
Accountability as the Antidote
The world burns not because of one man’s malice, but because of the corrupted society that emboldens and idolizes him. The unchecked power of ignorance, combined with the fervor of conviction, creates the conditions for catastrophic fallout. Believers, whether motivated by misinformation or personal biases, risk becoming complicit in systems that perpetuate suffering and destruction.
For Trump’s most devoted followers, accountability must start with introspection. The Christian community, in particular, must reckon with its moral abdication. Was Jesus not the one who broke bread with the outcast, embraced the downtrodden, and preached humility over hubris? To continue aligning with a figure who embodies the antithesis of these values is a betrayal not only of their faith but of their responsibility as stewards of compassion and truth.
When followers impose accountability on leaders, they force them to remain grounded in service rather than allowing them to ascend to divinity. This, in turn, creates healthier systems of governance, wherein leadership is about stewardship rather than spectacle.
The ultimate way to prevent both the deification of destructive figures and the metaphorical burning of the world is through the pursuit of awareness. Awareness is found in education, empathy, and the willingness to engage with diverse perspectives. Where ignorance sows division, awareness brings understanding.
This requires both collective effort and individual commitment:
- Seek Out Truth: Approach news and opinions with a critical eye. Verify sources, question motives, and avoid echo chambers that reinforce biases.
- Engage in Difficult Conversations: Dialogue with individuals who hold differing perspectives. True progress lies in bridging divides, not deepening them.
- Support Transparency: Push for systems of checks and balances that demand accountability from leaders.
- Educate for the Future: Prioritize education systems that teach critical thinking, ethical reasoning, and the courage to question authority.
While the imagery of a world burning paints a bleak picture, it is also a reminder of transformation. Fire can destroy, but it can also cleanse. A world scarred by ignorance and blind idolatry can rise again, healing through the pursuit of accountability, truth, and collective understanding.
The question, then, is whether humanity has the will to extinguish the flames before the damage is too great. Perhaps more importantly, will individuals recognize when they have handed the match to a “demon” in the first place?
A World Worth Saving?
You are not safe in Trump’s America. That’s the biggest difference between the first Trump administration and his second. This time around, President Donald Trump and his chief advisers are conducting themselves as though they have the right to do anything to anyone in the name of national security, with no factual justification necessary.
Whether you are a natural-born American Republican who worked in the Trump administration or a foreign-born pro-Palestinian student protester on a green card — anyone in this country, citizen or otherwise, can be deemed “bad people” by this government. And Trump is demonstrating that he will deploy the brute force of the most powerful office in the world on you, if he so chooses.
The continued survival of some of America’s most sacrosanct values — including due process, freedom of speech, and checks and balances on the executive branch — is not certain. This isn’t hyperbole. It’s no longer an abstract threat. There’s no reason to believe “it can’t happen here” as it’s already happening.
Turning the tide requires more than individual reflection; it demands systemic change. Leaders must face robust checks and balances to prevent them from ascending to untouchable status. Education systems must prioritize teaching critical thinking and ethical reasoning so that future generations are not so easily swayed by demagoguery. And as individuals, we must make a conscious commitment to seek truth, engage in dialogue, and reject the false promises of divisive figureheads.
Ultimately, the deification of divisive figures like Trump reveals deep fractures in our collective psyche. It demands that we question not only the leaders we elevate but also the societal conditions that allow them to rise unchecked. While the flames of division may currently rage, they also carry the potential for renewal. The question is whether we will summon the courage to extinguish ignorance and rebuild a world guided by empathy, accountability, and truth.
For if history teaches us anything, it is this: no idol, however powerful, is immune to the passage of time and the awakening of a people determined to reclaim their moral compass.
Yet, some people, because of their own despair or mental illness, just want to watch the collapse of our social order. For the world to “burn,” as the metaphor implies, it does not take literal flames. It takes the erosion of collective morality, empathy, and truth. A world on fire is one where deception triumphs over compassion, where systems of justice serve only the powerful, and where ignorance blinds the masses to the cost of their worship.
If ignorance is the match, then accountability is the fire extinguisher. The antidote to deification is transparency and truth. A society willing to hold its leaders accountable resists the trap of idolatry.
This is not to say that leaders must be perfect, nor that criticism itself be wielded irresponsibly. Rather, it is a call for balance—for recognition of both the strengths and flaws of those in power.
As our world burns, are we the gasoline, or the fire extinguishers?
It is your choice.
Michael Cain, acting as Alfred, in the Dark Knight
