Nine months and six days before a Tomahawk missile struck the classrooms of the Shajareh Tayyebeh elementary school in Minab, Iran, the spiritual architecture for such an event was being laid within the walls of the Pentagon. In a sermon delivered to military leaders, Pastor Brooks Potteiger, a close adviser to U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, reminded the gathered officers that they were not ultimately in charge of the world’s outcomes.
Citing the Book of Matthew, Potteiger argued that if God is sovereign over the fall of a sparrow, He is equally sovereign over the trajectory of Tomahawk and Minuteman missiles. This belief—that divine will directs the machinery of war—has become a central pillar of the current administration’s approach to the Middle East. For those observing the recent conflict in Iran, Pete Hegseth’s holy war: the militant Christian theology animating the US attack on Iran is not merely a matter of geopolitical strategy, but a reflection of a deeply specific, Reformed Calvinist worldview.
The human cost of this collision between theology and weaponry was starkly evident on February 28, when a missile strike on the Minab school killed more than 175 people, the majority of whom were children. While preliminary military investigations suggest U.S. Responsibility, neither the White House nor the Department of Defense has expressed remorse, framing the war instead as a divinely sanctioned effort against a barbaric regime.
The Theology of Predestination and Power
To understand the rhetoric emerging from the Pentagon, one must seem toward the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches (CREC), the denomination to which Hegseth belongs. Unlike mainstream evangelicalism, this wing of Christianity is rooted in a strict interpretation of Calvinism and the doctrine of predestination—the belief that all events are ordained by God.
According to Julie Ingersoll, a professor of religious studies at the University of North Florida, this worldview posits that nothing happens outside of God’s will. In this framework, even catastrophic errors or civilian casualties can be interpreted as part of a larger, divine plan. This removes the traditional burden of democratic accountability or military restraint, replacing the “consent of the governed” with the belief that legitimate authority descends directly from the Creator.
This mindset was on full display during a March 25 worship service at the Pentagon, where Hegseth prayed for “overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy.” The prayer was so stark that it prompted a public rebuke from Pope Leo, who cautioned that God does not hear the prayers of those whose hands are “full of blood.” However, as a member of a tradition that rejects papal authority, Hegseth is unlikely to be swayed by the Vatican.
The Influence of the ‘Idaho Theocracy’
The intellectual engine behind Hegseth’s religious convictions is Douglas Wilson, a pastor who has spent five decades attempting to establish a form of biblical theocracy in Moscow, Idaho. Wilson’s vision of “theonomy”—the application of biblical law to civil government—advocates for a society structured around biblical patriarchy and strict hierarchical authority.
Wilson’s views are extreme even within the American right. He has historically defended the antebellum South and argued that southern slavery was on “firm scriptural ground.” He also promotes a “theology of fist fighting” for boys and opposes women’s suffrage. For Wilson and his followers, the goal is the eventual establishment of a global Christendom, where the world is brought under the rule of Christ through the application of biblical law.
Hegseth’s alignment with this movement is physically manifested in a tattoo on his right bicep: Deus Vult. The Latin phrase, meaning “God wills it,” was the rallying cry of the First Crusade in 1095. To critics, the tattoo is a symbol of extremist ideology. to Hegseth, This proves a statement of divine mandate. This “Crusader” mentality suggests a view of foreign policy where the U.S. Military is not merely a tool of national security, but an instrument of a spiritual reclamation of the Holy Land.
Militant Masculinity and the New National Policy
Historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez, author of Jesus and John Wayne, argues that Hegseth is the modern embodiment of a “militaristic conception of Christianity.” This strain of faith evolved in the post-WWII era, shifting the ideal of Christian manhood from gentlemanly honor to a chauvinistic religiosity that baptizes violence in the name of righteousness.
In this framework, enemies of the state are equated with enemies of God. This synthesis of faith and firepower has historically led to the support of the most aggressive uses of American power, from the firebombing of German cities to the torture of prisoners during the War on Terror. When such an ideology is held by a Defense Secretary, the distinction between national interest and religious crusade begins to blur.
The current administration has furthered this by promoting an alternate origin story of the United States. Hegseth frequently references a story of George Washington kneeling in the snow at Valley Forge to pray for guidance—a tale that historians, including Brian Kaylor of Word&Way, note is apocryphal. By framing the U.S. As an explicitly Christian nation founded by patriarchs, the administration creates a historical justification for the removal of the separation between church and state.
Divergent Visions of the End Times
While various Christian nationalist factions agree on domestic goals, they are divided on the fate of the Middle East. This tension highlights the complexity of the current religious influence on U.S. Foreign policy:
| Theological Camp | Key Figures | View on Middle East/Israel | Goal |
|---|---|---|---|
| Post-millennialists | Pete Hegseth, Doug Wilson | Establish Christendom on Earth first | Global rule of Biblical Law |
| Premillennialists | Paula White-Cain, Mike Huckabee | Jewish control of Israel is a prerequisite | Trigger the Second Coming |
| Catholic Integralists | Steve Bannon, Kevin Roberts | Integration of Church and State | Sacralization of the State |
A Legacy of ‘Lost Causes’
The war in Iran has recently reached a temporary ceasefire after six weeks of fighting. Despite the strategic ambiguity of the outcome and the loss of expensive military aircraft—including an F-15 fighter jet—Hegseth has continued to frame the events in religious terms, describing the rescue of a downed pilot as a “rebirth” akin to the Easter story.
This tendency to find spiritual victory in material failure mirrors the “lost cause” narratives of the Confederacy. Just as the Confederate cause was romanticized after its defeat, the current movement views setbacks not as failures of policy, but as tests of faith. As Hegseth moves to restore Confederate statues and names to military installations, he is aligning the Department of Defense with a tradition of reactionary grievance.
In contrast, the history of the United States offers a different model for reckoning with religious war. In 1865, Abraham Lincoln’s second inaugural address acknowledged that both the North and South read the same Bible and prayed to the same God, concluding that “the Almighty has his own purposes” and that neither side’s prayers had been answered fully. Lincoln’s approach was one of humility and a desire to “bind up the nation’s wounds,” rather than a claim of divine mandate.
As the U.S. Approaches the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, the tension between these two visions of America—one based on a pluralistic separation of church and state, and another on a militant, theocratic mandate—will likely define the next era of American diplomacy and conflict.
The next official checkpoint for the Iran ceasefire will be the upcoming diplomatic review scheduled for next month, which will determine if the temporary truce can be converted into a long-term agreement.
We invite readers to share their perspectives on the intersection of faith and foreign policy in the comments below.
