The Cult of Trump

By George Elder, 8/10/24

The word “cult” is a neutral term in the field of religious studies. It usually refers to a religion’s external organization, initiations, ethical requirements, etc. It is how I used the term when writing of Buddhism in The Self and the Lotus (Chapter 10, “The Cult and its Art”). The word can also refer to a particular form of worship within a religion, as in the “cult of the Virgin Mary” or the “cult of the saints,” both living and dead.

When a saint is living and revered for being especially close to the divine, he or she may have a devout “cult” following. They feel blessed to be near such holiness—the charisma (Gk., charis, “grace, gift”) of that person available to themselves. Hinduism seems to feature the most living saints. A good example is the nineteenth century Bengali ecstatic, Ramakrishna, whose followers would form the world-wide Ramakrishna Mission.

It is here, however, that a cult can go wrong (giving rise to the pejorative meaning, in popular culture, of “being in a cult”). The charismatic leader may claim too much—namely, to be divinity itself—and, therefore, worthy of absolute love and obedience from devotees. And they, in turn, may believe this claim, even to their detriment . . . even death.

In his book, Archetype of the Apocalypse, Edward Edinger examined such a case psychologically. The troubled but ambitious Vernon Howell gradually became possessed by the “divine,” i.e., the collective unconscious that—as these Posts have explained—is highly charged, even sacred. So he changed his name to “David Koresh,” thereby declaring that he was a modern-day King David inaugurating the Kingdom of God. Indeed, he was a modern King Cyrus (“Koresh” in Hebrew) freeing the Jews (i.e., anyone who believed in him) from a Babylonian Captivity (the difficult life in which they found themselves).

He recruited about a hundred followers who had become psychologically “infected” by his possession. They believed that the world would end soon—while they would be saved—to live blessedly on earth with Christ for a thousand years. No one had any idea that this was symbolic language for a grand, if painful, transformation of culture.   

Edinger writes that David Koresh was:

capable of innumerable, interminable, crazy but brilliant Bible sermons—they could last all night. And always the message preached was that the “End of the world” was coming soon. We have here an illustration of a typical example of possession [i.e., inflation] by the archetype of the Apocalypse. And if one is possessed by that archetype, it inevitably leads to catastrophe—because “catastrophe” is built into the archetypal pattern. (185)

On April 19, 1993—at their compound just outside Waco, Texas—this man and about eighty members of his cult died in a fiery clash with the FBI.

Steven Hassan admits in his book, The Cult of Trump, that it may seem a “leap” to compare Donald Trump to cult leaders like Jim Jones, Sun Myung Moon, and David Koresh. But he sees a common pattern:

Trump uses all kinds of cult tactics—lying, insulting opponents, projecting his weaknesses onto others, deflecting, distracting, presenting alternative facts and competing versions of reality—to confuse, disorient, and ultimately coerce his followers. Repetition programs the beliefs into the unconscious. (xiv)

True, Trump’s cult is more political than religious and not everyone who votes for him is a devotee. But there is a base of millions who believe he can do no wrong, even when found guilty of wrong-doing.

Indeed, the Christian right believes this crude man has been chosen by God to lead the nation. Like Koresh, he has been called a “Cyrus” to free us from bondage to the false values of the political left. A journalist wrote recently: “That Trump could survive a shooting now elevates him to a near divine status—a figure of destiny to whom their devotion is complete.” (David Smith, The Guardian). Hassan notes that journalists often refer to a “Trump cult” without taking the phrase as seriously as they should.

While chilling, Hassan’s analysis is also entirely ego-oriented. He thinks Donald Trump, like all cult leaders, are in it for “power, money, and sex.” His followers, by contrast, are ego-less victims coerced by techniques—vulnerable since “society is undergoing rapid change.” Thus, this author’s talk of “programming” beliefs into the unconscious, the solution being to “deprogram” it—as if we were computers, as if the unconscious psyche could be that easily and safely manipulated! Jung would say this writer himself belongs to the modern “cult of consciousness” (CW 13, par. 51)

Instead, let us explore from a Jungian point of view some of the features of what can be called the “cult of Trump.”

1. Donald Trump is by nature a big man with a big personality. He is blessed with much energy and has accomplished a great deal in business (if not always legally or morally). But these characteristics, along with his wealth, are “hooks” for projection from the unconscious of those who are not like him but want to be. Psychologically, they are “like him” through projective identification—and that is something we all do with people we greatly admire. It is not necessarily pathological.

2. Nor is it pathological to dream of “Trump” as “king” (which he is not) or of Washington, D. C., as the “center” of the nation (which it is not geographically). But I have seen this dream often, sometimes to the distress of the dreamer who hates Trump! What this dream symbolizes, however, is not political but the psychological need to be aware that there is a “Greater Personality” at the “Center” of the psyche upon which we all depend and to which we owe allegiance—what traditionally the religions have called “God.”

3. If the need for a God remains too unconscious, however, it is projected (involuntarily) onto a big personality, even a flawed one. And that can be very dangerous, since the divine is now confused with a human being who, by definition, is not deserving of absolute love and total obedience. Here we see the beginning of pathological “cult” psychology—and T-shirts equating, “God, Country, Trump.” That is chilling since the idolatry of mixing the divine with a person or a place portends catastrophe. History teaches us that.

4. As these Posts have already suggested, however, the “archetype of the Apocalypse” is strongly active in America—and we are all its “involuntary exponents.” So what does this archetype of transformation want of us in our current situation? It wants the United States to become a “more perfect union,” as stated in our Constitution. And that cannot happen unless the American shadow is out in the open—with an opportunity for acknowledgement, at least, if not also some improvement.

Thus, the archetype chose as our leader in 2016 (and may do so again) a “boastful, bullying” man to make that feature of our national character more apparent—and even evoke it among the citizenry (people are ruder now). To be sure, some of Trump’s policies were very good, but the antics were not. That millions of citizens adored those antics is a sobering lesson.

5. Finally, America needs a more viable, more modern “God-image” to guide the nation. It lies within. Until that is discovered, however, we will have to experience external “half-gods”—to use Emerson’s term—that will prove insufficient. For me, that helps to explain why ostensibly religious people worship Donald Trump as savior. But, then, he has all that charisma! It explains why devotees of Trump still say he did not lose the election in 2020—since belief is reality, and God doesn’t lose.

We know profound forces are at work in all this. After all, Trump did not have to change his name, as did Vernon Howell, before claiming too much for himself. It was already a marvelously short, winning one! Consider Trump’s inspired use of Reagan’s phrase, “Make America Great Again,” that promises the impossible restoration of some vague utopian past.

As an acronym, “MAGA” is a sacred tetragrammaton—a four-lettered title with one letter repeated—as in YHWH (the Hebrew consonants in the Anglicized name for God, “Yahweh”); as in INRI (the Latin acronym for “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”) that one sees at the top of Christ’s cross in paintings. Jung says these titles carry the symbolism of the “Three and the Fourth” and the potential for wholeness in the individual and in the group. (See my discussion in The Self and the Lotus.)

That the Trumpian letters appear on a red hat puts them at the forehead—precisely where in the Book of Revelation the saints are marked with the “seal of the living God” (chapter 7) or the damned are marked by the “name of the beast” (chapter 13). People know this, unconsciously. One vendor of Trump merchandise said he would never have been elected president without the hat.   

We have yet to learn our fate as a nation in what is assuredly a very long process. Understanding what is happening, however, can help us as individuals to endure the more painful collective aspect. It can keep us from being infected. And it may even “redeem” us a bit in advance.