When Sacred Objects Become Tools of Power
On the evening of June 1, 2020, Americans witnessed one of the most brazen examples of Cultural Monument manipulation in modern political history. As tear gas still hung in the air from the forcible clearing of peaceful protesters, President Donald Trump strode across Lafayette Square, positioned himself in front of St. John’s Episcopal Church, and held aloft a black leather Bible for the cameras.
“Is that your Bible?” a reporter called out.
“It’s a Bible,” Trump replied—a response that perfectly captured the calculated nature of what was unfolding.
This wasn’t a moment of spiritual reflection or religious solidarity. This was the deliberate weaponisation of Christianity’s most sacred Cultural Monument in service of political power. And it worked exactly as intended.
The Setup: Crisis as Opportunity
The George Floyd protests had created what I now recognise as a “Cultural Monument moment”—a time when existing power structures feel threatened and leaders must either evolve or double down on their base’s most sacred symbols.
Trump chose the latter.
For five days following Floyd’s death, protests had erupted across the nation. In Washington D.C., demonstrators gathered outside the White House, their chants audible from within. On May 29, Trump and his family were briefly moved to an underground bunker as a security precaution—a detail that, when leaked, reportedly enraged the president because it made him appear weak.
The narrative was spinning away from Trump’s preferred image as the “law and order” president. He needed a reset, a visual that would reframe the entire crisis in terms favourable to his political brand. He needed to activate the most powerful Cultural Monument in his coalition’s arsenal: Christianity itself.
The Psychology of Sacred Props
To understand what happened next, we must recognise how Cultural Monuments function in the human psyche. Christianity isn’t just a religion to millions of Americans—it’s a Cultural Monument that carries centuries of accumulated meaning about identity, belonging, morality, and legitimacy.
When someone holds a Bible out in front of a crowd or a gathering of the press, they’re not simply grasping a book. They’re claiming a connection to:
Divine authority that transcends human criticism
Moral legitimacy that frames opposition as not just wrong, but evil
Cultural authenticity that positions them as defending “real” American values
Historical continuity linking them to generations of believers
Trump understood this power intimately, despite his tenuous personal relationship with Christianity. As Bishop Mariann Budde later noted, “The only time that President Trump has been at St. John’s church as president was on the morning of his inauguration.”
The Execution: Theatre of the Sacred
The photo op required careful staging. First, peaceful protesters had to be cleared from the area—not for security reasons, but to create the right visual narrative. At 6:30 PM, U.S. Park Police and National Guard troops deployed tear gas and flash bangs against demonstrators who had been gathered lawfully in Lafayette Square.
As protesters fled the chemical clouds, Trump delivered remarks in the White House Rose Garden, promising to “fight to protect the rights of peaceful protesters” even as those very protesters were being attacked just steps away.
Then came the walk. Trump, accompanied by top officials including Attorney General William Barr and Defense Secretary Mark Esper, crossed the street to St. John’s Church. The building had suffered minor fire damage during the protests—a detail that would be weaponised as evidence of chaos requiring his strong response.
The Money Shot: Sacred Symbol as Political Shield
Standing before the boarded-up church, Trump produced the Bible and began posing with it. He held it at various angles, sometimes appearing to display it upside down, his face stern and presidential. The images were perfect for his purposes: the strong leader, backed by divine authority, standing firm against the chaos.
The symbolism was layered and intentional:
The church represented traditional American Christianity under attack. This was an opportunity that was irresistable to Trump.
(The Bible positioned Trump as its defender simply by holding it in front of him.)
(In the visual symbolism of the photo op, these boards served Trump’s narrative purposes because they made the church and grounds appear to be “under siege” or damaged by the protests. This created a powerful visual metaphor: Trump standing as the protector of a wounded church and parish house, suggesting that Christian institutions needed his “law and order” approach to defend them from the chaos of the demonstrations.)
His presence implied divine sanction for his “law and order” approach.
(Whilst the church pastor did not ask for his ‘protection,’ Trump took an opportunity to assert his own brand of ‘authority’ over the situation.)
When asked if it was his personal Bible, Trump’s response—”It’s a Bible”—revealed the calculated nature of the moment. This wasn’t about personal faith; it was about claiming the Cultural Monument’s power for political purposes.
The Immediate Backlash: When Sacred Theatre Fails
The photo op triggered immediate condemnation precisely because it was such a transparent misuse of sacred symbols. Religious leaders across denominations recognised the manipulation and pushed back.
Bishop Mariann Budde was direct: Trump “held up the Bible in front of St. John’s as if it were a prop or an extension of his military and authoritarian position.” She continued: “This was an abuse of the spiritual tools and symbols of our traditions and of our sacred space.”
The Rev. James Martin called it “revolting,” stating: “The Bible is not a prop. A church is not a photo op. Religion is not a political tool. And God is not a plaything.”
Even some Republicans felt uncomfortable with the naked instrumentalisation of Christian symbols, though most stayed silent rather than challenge their base’s allegiance to both Trump and Christianity.
Why It Worked: The Power of Cultural Monument Activation
Despite the criticism, the photo op achieved its primary objective. For Trump’s Christian base, the image resonated powerfully. Here was their president, standing firm against chaos, holding the Bible aloft as both shield and sword.
The Cultural Monument did what it was designed to do:
It reframed the narrative from police brutality and racial justice to law and order versus chaos.
It activated tribal identity by positioning Trump as Christianity’s defender against secular forces.
It provided emotional comfort to supporters who felt their cultural values were under attack.
It created a sacred shield that made criticism feel like attacks on faith itself.
The Deeper Manipulation: Christianity as Political DNA
This incident reveals how politicians exploit Cultural Monuments that function as what we might call “Cultural DNA”—inherited belief systems so fundamental to identity that questioning them feels like existential threat.
Christianity, for many Americans, operates exactly like genetic code:
It’s inherited from previous generations through family and community
It shapes identity at the deepest psychological levels
It creates ingroup/outgroup dynamics that determine social belonging
It resists rational examination because it’s felt rather than reasoned
It reproduces itself through emotional rather than logical transmission
Trump didn’t need to be genuinely Christian to access this power. He simply needed to hold the Bible and let millions of believers project their faith onto his image. The Cultural Monument did the work for him.
The Enforcement Mechanism: Sacred Objects Create Sacred Defenders
Within hours of the photo op, Trump’s Christian supporters began defending both the action and its symbolism. Social media filled with posts celebrating their president’s bold stand for faith. The criticism from religious leaders was dismissed as evidence of “liberal Christianity” corrupting true faith.
This demonstrates how Cultural Monuments create their own enforcement mechanisms. Once activated, these symbols generate passionate defenders who feel personally attacked when the symbols are criticised. The Bible photo op didn’t just use Christianity—it conscripted millions of Christians into defending the political use of their sacred text (an embedded Cultural Monument).
The Long Game: Permanent Symbol Capture
The most insidious aspect of this manipulation lies in its permanence. By successfully linking his image to the Bible during a moment of national crisis, Trump embedded himself into the Cultural Monument itself for his supporters. Banksy showed us the power of open, public commentary of this nature. There is nothing more permanent than a temporary piece of Banksy ‘graffiti’.
Years later, many of his Christian followers still see that image as legitimate—not because they examined its theological basis, but because the Cultural Monument bypasses rational analysis. Once the Bible was successfully linked to Trump’s political brand, criticism of Trump began to feel like criticism of Christianity itself.
Lessons for Democracy: Recognising Sacred Manipulation
The Bible photo op teaches us several crucial lessons about how Cultural Monuments can be weaponised against democratic discourse:
Sacred symbols can be captured by political actors who understand their psychological power, regardless of their personal relationship to those symbols.
Emotional manipulation trumps rational argument when Cultural Monuments are involved, making normal political debate nearly impossible.
Religious authority can be borrowed through theatrical displays that activate believer psychology without requiring genuine faith.
Cultural DNA creates political immunity by making criticism feel like personal attack rather than policy disagreement.
Democratic institutions are vulnerable to leaders who masterfully exploit the Cultural Monuments their citizens hold sacred.
The Ultimate Irony: Christianity Defending the Indefensible
Perhaps the most tragic aspect of the Bible photo op was how it forced sincere Christians to choose between their faith and their political allegiance. Many chose politics, defending the obvious manipulation because abandoning Trump felt like abandoning their cultural identity.
This reveals the darkest power of Cultural Monument manipulation: it can corrupt the very values it claims to represent. Christianity’s teachings about peace, justice, and caring for the marginalised were abandoned to defend a political theatre that violated those very principles.
The Bible became a weapon against biblical values, wielded by a leader who understood its power without embracing its message. And millions of Christians apparently applauded, demonstrating how completely Cultural Monuments can be turned against their own deepest purposes.
Conclusion: The Sacred Made Profane
The St. John’s Church photo op stands as a masterclass in Cultural Monument manipulation—and a warning about the vulnerability of sacred symbols to political exploitation. Trump didn’t need to understand Christianity to wield it effectively; he only needed to understand how Cultural Monuments function in human psychology.
By treating the Bible as a political prop, he simultaneously diminished its sacred power and demonstrated its political utility. The incident reveals how any Cultural Monument, no matter how revered, can become a tool of control in the hands of leaders who understand that faith, like fear, can be weaponised for power.
For democracy to survive, citizens must learn to recognise when their most sacred symbols are being used against their own deepest values. The Bible photo op wasn’t a defence of Christianity—it was Christianity’s exploitation in service of authoritarianism. The difference matters more than many believers were willing to acknowledge.
The sacred became profane not when protesters challenged authority, but when authority claimed the sacred for purely political ends. And in that moment, millions of Americans learned just how easily their deepest beliefs could be turned against everything they claimed to hold dear.
-Devin Savage
