One of my earliest memories is of a classmate telling me to go to hell because I don’t believe in God. This terrified me; eternal damnation was not something I had conceived of in elementary school. In hindsight, since I don’t believe in hell, the threat is rather hollow. But now, it seems like whenever I leave my dorm, there is a missionary or sidewalk preacher ready to convert me to “save my soul.” 

There is nothing inherently wrong with religion or, more broadly, belief in a higher power. If your religious beliefs inform your moral code and fill you with purpose, more power to you. Many religious communities have been at the forefront of progressive political advocacy. Christianity, Judaism and Islam all played crucial roles in the Civil Rights movement; engaged Buddhism has long supported anti-nuclear and prison reform campaigns. 

However, religious belief is not the same as religious power. As organized religion has declined in the United States, Christian nationalists have sought to regain political power in pursuit of total religious control.

They falsely claim that the United States is a “Christian nation”— this falls apart when you consider the Founders were a mix of religious beliefs, some Unitarian, some Christian, some just deists — whose laws must reflect “Christian values,” and that deviations from their beliefs represent moral decay. Their obsession with a heavenly afterlife threatens to make life on Earth hell.  

USC is no stranger to religious extremism. The USC College Republicans were accused by Trojan Democrats of Islamophobic rhetoric toward New York Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani by linking his election to the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001. College Republicans justified this bigotry, saying they “serve a Risen Christ,” offering an example of how religious language could be wielded to shield bigotry. 

Christianity, or any religion, cannot be used as a battering ram against others. Believing in God does not make you inherently virtuous. 

This extremism exists not in spite of a religiously dominant political culture, but rather because of it. 

Although there’s a conception of “pious” Republicans and “godless” Democrats, the predominance of religion exists throughout the political spectrum. 

The Republican Party — traditionally associated with capitalistic values rather than biblical — became co-opted by the Christian right starting in the 1980s. Ronald Reagan actively courted Evangelical leaders like Jerry Falwell and his “Moral Majority,” establishing the GOP as the vehicle for conservative Christian power. 

In his 1984 address to evangelical leaders at the Dallas Ecumenical Prayer Breakfast, Reagan praised the merging of church and state. He claimed that the church’s influence on government “worked to our benefit as a nation.” He decried critics of school prayer as “intolerant of religion” and “Marxist.” Richard Land of the Southern Baptist Convention characterized Reagan’s speech as “transformative” when “the evangelical involvement in public policy” came to fruition.

Today, the movement has gotten its way electorally under its messiah, President Donald Trump. In his executive office, Trump created the “Anti-Christian Bias Task Force,” established a “Faith Office,” and appointed far-right Catholic Supreme Court justices who overturned Roe v. Wade and are poised to do the same for same-sex marriage. 

On the statewide level, Louisiana and Texas recently passed laws requiring the Ten Commandments to be displayed in every classroom. Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry justified the law, claiming, “If you want to respect the rule of law, you’ve got to start from the original law giver, which was Moses.” State and federal governments are taking a jackhammer to the wall separating church and state. 

Allusions to God are ubiquitous on the political left as well. At the 2024 Democratic National Convention, former President Joe Biden invoked God seven times, only two fewer than Trump during the Republican National Convention. 

Even without explicit Christian reference, the expectation remains: People ought to have a religion. At the DNC, Vice Presidential Nominee Tim Walz made a rousing plea for unity with those who “may not pray like you do,” presupposing that everyone prays. 

This cultural expectation produces deep distrust of non-belief. In a 2014 Pew Research Survey, 53% of Americans said they would be less likely to support an atheist for president. Only 35% said the same about a candidate who had an extramarital affair. 

Atheism is more disqualifying than infidelity: Affairs are more perceived to be a personal failing, while atheism uproots society’s perception of morality. The fear is not about belief itself, but about what happens when morality is understood as human-made, rather than God-given. 

Atheism and agnosticism present an alternative way of belief, challenging ingrained beliefs about morality and the nature of existence. It shows that people can be moral without reliance on religious dogma; that humility for the unknown can coexist with care for others; and that reverence can be directed toward human dignity rather than a hypothetical afterlife. 

Solvency here does not lie in a staunch anti-religious government stance. Rarely is it fairly applied to all religious expressions, and religious freedom is a better alternative. Instead, there needs to be a concerted effort to quash religious fundamentalism and extremism. Christian nationalism is dangerous not because it is Christian, but because it uses faith to legitimize exclusion and control.

We do not need less faith. We need less theocracy.