Don't Be Fooled: Trump's Religious Liberty Group Is a Trojan Horse for Christian Nationalism

On May 1, 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order creating the Religious Liberty Commission, a body tasked with safeguarding what he calls America’s 'beautiful tradition' of religious freedom. At first glance, the move appears to champion a core constitutional principle. Yet beneath the rhetoric lies a troubling agenda, one that elevates a singular vision of faith over the pluralistic tapestry that defines the nation. Led by figures like Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick and former HUD Secretary Ben Carson, this commission signals a deliberate push to reshape the boundaries between church and state, favoring one religious perspective while sidelining the rights of others.

The commission’s stated mission, to produce a report on threats to religious liberty and recommend protective policies, sounds benign. But its focus areas, from expanding religious exemptions to promoting faith-based education, reveal a broader intent. This isn’t about protecting all believers equally. It’s about entrenching a specific worldview, one that aligns with the priorities of a narrow segment of the population. For a nation built on the promise of equal treatment under the law, this approach risks unraveling decades of progress toward inclusivity.

America’s strength lies in its diversity, a mosaic of faiths, cultures, and identities united by a commitment to mutual respect. The First Amendment, with its dual guarantees of free exercise and non-establishment, ensures no group dominates the public square. Yet the commission’s framework, rooted in a narrative of embattled faith, threatens to tilt that balance. By framing religious liberty as a zero-sum battle, it pits believers against nonbelievers, majority faiths against minorities, and individual convictions against collective rights.

The stakes are high. As the commission prepares to advise the White House Faith Office and influence federal policy, its actions could reshape everything from public education to healthcare access. For those who cherish a nation where no one is forced to conform to another’s beliefs, this moment demands vigilance.

The tension between religious freedom and civil rights is not new, but recent years have seen it intensify. Supreme Court rulings like Burwell v. Hobby Lobby in 2014 and 303 Creative v. Elenis in 2023 have expanded religious exemptions, allowing businesses and individuals to sidestep anti-discrimination laws based on personal beliefs. These decisions, often favoring conservative Christian claimants, have chipped away at protections for LGBTQ+ individuals, women, and religious minorities. The Religious Liberty Commission builds on this trend, promising to further erode the delicate balance between free exercise and equal treatment.

Consider the commission’s focus on conscience protections in healthcare and vaccine mandates. While framed as safeguarding personal beliefs, such exemptions can undermine public health. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, requests for religious exemptions to vaccine requirements have surged, outnumbering medical ones in several states. Thirty states now allow religious opt-outs for school immunizations, a policy that has fueled outbreaks of preventable diseases. The commission’s push to expand these exemptions ignores the broader consequences, prioritizing individual objections over community well-being.

The commission also targets public education, advocating for policies like school choice and voluntary prayer. States like Louisiana and Texas have already passed laws mandating the Ten Commandments in classrooms, moves now facing legal challenges for violating the Establishment Clause. The Supreme Court’s shift, evident in cases like Kennedy v. Bremerton School District, has emboldened such efforts, favoring individual religious expression over institutional neutrality. Yet these policies risk alienating students of minority faiths or no faith, turning schools into battlegrounds for ideological crusades.

Then there’s the issue of ‘debanking,’ where religious organizations claim banks like JPMorgan Chase have closed their accounts without clear reasons. While these cases, potentially numbering up to 20, raise legitimate concerns about transparency, the commission’s response exaggerates the threat, painting it as systemic persecution. Banks cite compliance and risk management, not religious bias, as factors. By amplifying this narrative, the commission distracts from more pressing issues, like ensuring equal access to financial services for all nonprofits, regardless of their views.

The commission claims to celebrate America’s 'peaceful religious pluralism,' but its priorities tell a different story. Its advisory boards, stacked with religious leaders and legal experts, are poised to amplify voices that align with a specific agenda. The inclusion of figures like the Attorney General and the Assistant to the President for Domestic Policy ensures tight alignment with the administration’s goals. This isn’t a neutral body seeking diverse perspectives; it’s a vehicle for advancing a predetermined vision.

Historical precedent offers a warning. The 1993 Religious Freedom Restoration Act, passed to protect minority faiths, has been co-opted in recent decades to shield majority beliefs, often at the expense of marginalized groups. Progressive faith communities, who use RFRA to challenge restrictive abortion laws or advocate for immigrant rights, are unlikely to find a receptive audience in this commission. Its focus on issues like parental rights and religious education suggests a preference for policies that resonate with one demographic, sidelining the broader coalition of believers and nonbelievers who define modern America.

Opponents of this approach, including advocates for church-state separation, argue it undermines the very pluralism it claims to protect. The First Amendment’s Establishment Clause exists to prevent government endorsement of any faith, ensuring no group feels coerced or excluded. Yet the commission’s push for religious displays and faith-based funding risks crossing that line, creating an environment where minority faiths and secular citizens feel like second-class citizens.

The Religious Liberty Commission is not a neutral defender of constitutional rights; it’s a calculated effort to reshape America in the image of a single worldview. Its policies, from expanding religious exemptions to promoting faith in public schools, threaten to erode the separation of church and state, a cornerstone of the nation’s pluralistic identity. For those who value a society where all can thrive, regardless of belief, this moment demands action.

Protecting religious liberty means protecting everyone’s right to believe or not believe, without fear of exclusion or coercion. It means upholding civil rights for all, ensuring no one is denied services or opportunities because of another’s convictions. It means keeping public institutions neutral, so every child, worker, and citizen feels equally valued. The commission’s vision, cloaked in the language of freedom, risks betraying these principles. Americans must reject this narrow path and recommit to a future where diversity remains our greatest strength.