How to Win Real Elections with a Fake War on Christianity
A short manual for turning panic into votes while real problems rot.
If you want to win elections without fixing anything, I’ve got a short manual for you. Little sophistication needed. First, invent a crisis you can’t lose. That’s the trick. Take the “war on Christianity”—it’s not a war, it’s a marketing plan. It’s a coupon code for attention. You take everyday life, sprinkle fear on it, and—poof—you’ve got “persecution.” Then you rake in donations, TV hits, and votes while roads crumble, wages stall, and schools starve. Ugly, yes, but it runs on two fuels: grievance and repetition.
And never forget. Families can’t make ends meet not because the bottom 50% own only 2.5% of the country’s wealth, but because of “illegal immigrants” who don’t look or sound like you.
Christians Not Forced to Hide in Basements
Christians aren’t a fragile underground sect. Churches sit on the best corners in town. Politicians run whole campaigns promising to defend them from a doom that never shows up. If there were a real attack, people would notice without a press release. Don’t let facts get in the way. What matters is a theatrical crisis that lives on TV and in campaign emails.
The Panic Playbook
👉 Step one: pick a harmless symbol. A coffee cup with the wrong color. A store clerk who says “Happy holidays.” A school concert that swaps one hymn for another. None of this changes anyone’s rights or stops anyone from going to church. It just gives cameras something to zoom in on.
👉 Step two: scream that civilization is collapsing. Use big words like attack, silencing, ban, and takeover. Make it sound like the last stand at the Alamo over a paper cup.
👉 Step three: invent a vague villain. The elites. The left. The seculars. Whoever your audience already dislikes. Point the mob at fog and let imagination do the rest.
👉 Step four: point to yourself as the only line of defense. “Donate now. Vote now. Share now.” That’s the wallet line. If the panic has no donation button, it’s not the real product.
The Quiet Fifth Step
While everyone chases the outrage of the week, pass the unrelated bill. Help a donor. Cut a corner. Hand a public asset to a private friend. The culture-war fireworks pull eyes away from the budget line that matters. People go home thinking they defended the faith. Meanwhile, the same politicians strip public services, and the same communities get poorer. The panic is the misdirection. The pickpocket has your wallet because you stared at the shiny object.
Why the Reruns Will Still Work
The story flatters people. It tells them they are God’s last team on earth, always one holiday greeting away from extinction. It gives them a role: the brave defender. Everyone wants to be the hero. The script also dodges results. If you’re fighting a forever war, you never have to show better schools, safer streets, or cheaper medicine. You just keep the siren on and call it duty.
Reframe the Majority as a Threatened Minority
Act like the majority is on the brink. Say “they’re coming for you” even when you own the corner lots and prime airtime. Treat any change as a sneak attack. Fear beats facts.
Monetize Martyrdom
Claim you’re “silenced” on the biggest stages you can find. Sell books about censorship on national TV. Hold rallies about persecution with stadium speakers. Victimhood is the brand. Donations are the product.
Use “Religious Freedom” as Your Skeleton Key
Redefine it to mean special rules for your side. If a law blocks your agenda, call it anti-faith. If it hurts others, call it conscience. Don’t defend freedom; demand privilege. Keep the language holy and the goal political.
Keep the Outrage Supply Chain Full
Outrage must never run out. Rotate targets: cups, books, statues, school concerts. If reality goes quiet, manufacture insult. Push daily clips, weekly sermons, monthly fundraisers. The monster must live so the slaying can sell.
Neutralize Anyone Who Asks for Receipts
If church folks want real results—roads, clinics, lower power bills—drown them in testimonies and photo ops. Schedule a prayer breakfast. Post a pew selfie. Announce a “faith task force.” Never show spreadsheets. Show vibes.
If others point to policy, accuse them of hating tradition. Call them elites. Call them coastal. Say “they look down on you.” Move the fight from budgets to identity. Identity doesn’t need math.
Blur Church and State on Purpose
Wrap every policy in scripture quotes. Say God wants your tax bill. Say family values demand your voting law. The goal isn’t theology; it’s obedience. Keep the badge and the Bible in the same photo.
Undercut Pluralism
Pluralism kills panic. So claim fairness is favoritism. Say equality is erasing you. Frame shared rules as persecution. The more neighbors get along, the less your emails convert. Stir the pot.
Troubleshooting: When Voters Ask Real Questions
If they ask about wages, say “values.” If they ask about healthcare, say “the children.” If they ask about housing, say “faith and family.” Always swap policy for morality play. If cornered, blame immigrants, professors, or the media. Then change the subject to Christmas.
Never Campaign on Boring Fixes
No potholes. No budgets. No procurement. Adults don’t click. Keep everything epic. Keep every Tuesday as doomsday. Panic is the fuel; boredom is the stall.
Before You Go
Do it all with urgency. “They’re at the gates.” “This is our last chance.” Add a ticking clock. Add a matching donor. Add a verse. Then pass the plate and count the wins while the sirens keep people from checking the ledger.
If you want, I can also add a one-line call to comment at the end and a 6-tag Medium topic set.
Happy Holidays!