Trump's Unbreakable Bond with Israel - Politics, Prophecy, and Power

Trump's Unbreakable Bond with Israel: Politics, Prophecy, and Power

White House adviser Ivanka Trump and Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin unveil the sign at the new U.S. Embassy in Jerusalem on May 14, 2018. The embassy move fulfilled a key Trump campaign promise, hailed by his evangelical base and pro-Israel allies.

In August 2020, at a campaign rally in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, Donald Trump openly boasted about his decision to move the U.S. Embassy to Jerusalem, bluntly linking it to domestic politics. "We moved the capital of Israel to Jerusalem. That's for the evangelicals," Trump said, noting that "the evangelicals are more excited about that than Jewish people." The crowd cheered, and in that moment Trump laid bare a driving force behind his unwavering pro-Israel stance: a convergence of political strategy, religious ideology, and influential backers. Throughout his presidency – in both his first term and his current second term – Trump has championed Israel's interests with striking consistency. This investigative report examines why: uncovering the political calculations, ideological alignments, religious influences, and financial relationships that have cemented Trump's status as perhaps the most pro-Israel U.S. president in history. We delve into key decisions – from Jerusalem and the Golan Heights to the Abraham Accords – and the actors and movements that shaped them, framing Trump's stance within the broader context of right-wing evangelism, geopolitics, and domestic electoral benefits.

Promises Kept: Political Strategy and the Evangelical Factor

From the start of his political career, Trump understood the electoral power of the evangelical Christian base and the Republican Party's rightward shift on Israel. White evangelicals have become staunchly pro-Israel – far more than other American religious groups. A recent Pew survey found that 70% of white evangelicals believe God gave Israel to the Jewish people, a theological conviction driving their support. By comparison, only 32% of American Jews shared that belief. Many evangelicals view the modern state of Israel as the fulfillment of biblical prophecy and a prelude to the Second Coming of Christ. Trump, a shrewd political showman, aligned himself closely with these beliefs despite not being overtly religious himself.

The embassy move to Jerusalem in May 2018 became a galvanizing symbol of Trump's commitment. Defying decades of U.S. policy and international caution, Trump fulfilled a campaign promise that past presidents had made but delayed. Behind the scenes, his evangelical advisors and supporters were pivotal. According to one adviser, "I have no doubt that evangelicals played a meaningful role in this decision… I don't believe it would have happened without them," said Johnnie Moore, a spokesman for Trump's evangelical advisory council. Prominent Christian Zionist leaders had lobbied fiercely: groups like My Faith Votes (chaired by Mike Huckabee) flooded the White House with messages urging recognition of Jerusalem, and a coalition of evangelical activists sent Trump a letter pressing that "time was of the essence." In Trump and Vice President Mike Pence – himself a devout evangelical – these activists "found their most sympathetic audience."

Trump's public messaging left little doubt whom he was courting. At the Jerusalem embassy's opening ceremony, the administration gave two evangelical pastors the honor of delivering prayers and blessings. Robert Jeffress, a Texas megachurch pastor who once declared that Jews (and other non-Christians) are doomed to hell, offered the invocation, thanking God "for the tremendous leadership of our great president, Donald J. Trump… Without President Trump's determination, resolve and courage, we would not be here today," he preached. John Hagee, founder of Christians United for Israel, delivered a benediction. Hagee – known for citing biblical prophecy that Jews must return to Israel before the end times – had long advocated moving the embassy. Their very presence, noted one observer, "symbolise[d] the Christian right's pact" with a president who, whatever his personal foibles, "has delivered" on their spiritual and political goals.

Indeed, the embassy move was orchestrated for an evangelical audience as much as for Israel. It was reported that Trump ordered the move "over the objections" of his own foreign policy and national security team – a striking testament to evangelical clout in the Oval Office. One major motive: Trump's dependence on evangelical voters for political survival. By late 2018, facing domestic troubles, Trump tightened his embrace of religious conservatives. "The gravitational pull of white evangelicals has been less visible, but it could have far-reaching policy consequences," The Guardian noted at the time. Polls consistently showed over 70–80% approval of Trump among white evangelical voters, a steadfast bloc he could not afford to lose. Keeping them enthused meant delivering on symbolic pro-Israel promises central to their worldview.

"An Ideological Alignment": Nationalism, Christian Zionism and Mutual Goals

Beyond electoral calculus, Trump's Israel stance reflects a deeper ideological alignment with right-wing and evangelical worldviews. He has often cast global politics in Manichaean terms that resonate with religious conservatives – a clash of good vs. evil, Judeo-Christian civilization vs. Islamist terror, "pro-America" patriots vs. globalists. In the Middle East, that translated into unqualified support for Israel's hardline policies and an aggressive posture toward Israel's foes (Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas). Evangelical advisors like Mike Pence and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo infused policy with biblical overtones. In a 2019 speech in Cairo, Pompeo – an evangelical himself – declared he came as "an evangelical Christian" and spoke of God's truth guiding U.S. policy. He later described Iran's regime as a "cancerous influence" in the region, framing U.S. resolve in almost apocalyptic terms.

Trump's coalition found common cause between religious fundamentalists and secular hawks. Hardline strategists like National Security Advisor John Bolton (a fierce Iran opponent) joined with Christian Zionists in a "holy war" narrative against Islamism and Tehran's theocracy. "Evangelicals… now see the United States locked into a holy war against the forces of evil embodied by Iran," explained one religious scholar of the administration's mindset. This zeal for a defining struggle dovetailed neatly with Trump's instinct to reject Barack Obama's more balanced approach. Nowhere was this clearer than in Trump's abrogation of the Iran nuclear deal – a move cheered by both Israeli leaders and rapture-minded pastors. In fact, Trump's Middle East agenda often seemed driven by a desire to erase Obama's legacy and replace it with a more confrontational, Israel-aligned posture.

On the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the "evangelical tinge" of Trump's policy was unmistakable. His administration tilted entirely toward Israel's positions, showing "lack of balancing sympathy for the Palestinians." Traditional U.S. rhetoric about a two-state solution faded; instead, Trump officials spoke the language of Israel's right wing. They ceased referring to the West Bank as "occupied" territory and defended Israel's settlement expansion. David Friedman, Trump's U.S. Ambassador to Israel, was a former bankruptcy lawyer with ties to the settler movement who even posed with a photo rendering of a rebuilt Jewish temple in place of Jerusalem's Islamic holy site. The administration's Peace to Prosperity plan (unveiled in 2020) essentially endorsed Israeli annexation of large swathes of the West Bank, granting Palestinians only limited autonomy in scattered enclaves. Evangelical figures explicitly reject the idea of ceding biblical land: one Christian Zionist leader exulted that under Trump, "the settlements have never been illegal because God's law supersedes international law". For many on the religious right, Trump's stance fulfilled a divine plan – prompting some to liken him to the ancient Persian King Cyrus, a non-believer who nonetheless restored the Jews to Jerusalem.

Meanwhile, Trump cultivated a close personal alliance with Israel's own right-wing leader, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The two men shared a populist, security-first ethos and a contempt for the traditional diplomatic playbook. Netanyahu often referred to Trump as the best friend Israel ever had in the White House. In turn, Trump relished the praise and symbolism: he was delighted when Israel named a proposed Golan Heights settlement "Trump Heights" in his honor. Even a brief falling-out – after Netanyahu congratulated Joe Biden on winning the 2020 election, enraging Trump – did little to dent the underlying mutually beneficial relationship. As president, Trump enabled Netanyahu's hawkish agenda at every turn; and Netanyahu's public adulation bolstered Trump's image among pro-Israel voters.

Thus, Trump's ideology and political brand meshed seamlessly with the Israeli nationalist project. Both he and Netanyahu cast themselves as strongmen defending their nations against Islamist terror and liberal appeasers. Both opposed the Iran nuclear deal and supported maximal Israeli territorial claims. The alignment extended to secondary actors: Trump's U.N. Ambassador, Nikki Haley, became a hero in Israel for passionately vetoing any U.N. criticism of Israeli actions, and evangelical audiences in America loved her for it. This broader Republican shift toward unabashed pro-Israel sentiment has been decades in the making – fueled by evangelicals, partisan "sorting," and neoconservative influence. By the time Trump ran for office, GOP support for Israel had become almost a litmus test, and he seized that mantle eagerly.

The Donor Network: Money, Influence, and "Deals" Behind the Scenes

Another crucial – if less visible – motivation for Trump's hard pro-Israel line lies in the financial and donor relationships entwined with his political rise. Republican megadonors with deep pro-Israel convictions invested heavily in Trump, and their influence is widely acknowledged. Sheldon Adelson, the late Las Vegas casino magnate, stands out as the most prominent example. Adelson and his wife Miriam poured enormous sums into Trump's campaigns and Republican coffers – $82 million in the 2016 cycle alone, making Adelson the largest donor of that election. In 2020, he gave tens of millions more. Adelson's motivation was clear: nothing aligned more with his worldview than strengthening the Republican-Israel alliance. He once said his most important issue was ensuring America's support for the Israeli government's policies, and he unabashedly opposed the creation of a Palestinian state.

The payoff for Adelson's support was evident in the array of Trump's policy decisions that bore his imprint. "The imprint of the 84-year-old's political passions is seen in an array of Donald Trump's more controversial decisions," The Guardian reported in 2018 – including violating the Iran nuclear deal, moving the embassy to Jerusalem, and appointing the ultra-hawkish John Bolton as NSA. Adelson had privately lobbied for all three moves. He even joined a so-called "shadow National Security Council" advising Bolton behind the scenes. The day after Trump pulled out of the Iran deal in May 2018, Adelson was ushered into the White House for a private meeting with Trump, Bolton, and Pence. The message was unmistakable: the administration was listening closely to its benefactor. Logan Bayroff of the liberal pro-Israel group J Street observed, "Adelson's established himself as an influential figure… with the amount of money he has contributed. There's no doubt that he has very strong, very far-right positions and those positions are really being heard… at the highest levels of government."

Nowhere was Adelson's influence clearer than on the Jerusalem embassy issue. He had championed the move for years and was "so enthusiastic about it that he offered to pay for some of the costs" of the new embassy. When Trump finally decided to proceed, Adelson effectively choreographed parts of the event: he even provided his private jet to fly in Guatemala's delegation for the ceremony (Guatemala became the second country to move its embassy). One former Israeli official noted that Adelson served as a linchpin, linking "radical extremists on the Israeli right" with "hardliners… and neoconservatives" in the U.S., resurrecting policies once considered fringe. Adelson's sprawling pro-Israel activism – from funding an American pro-Israel campus network and an anti-BDS initiative to bankrolling Israel's most-read newspaper – gave him unrivaled clout. Trump's team, eager to keep this benefactor happy, delivered in spades.

Adelson was not alone. The megadonor class around Trump included other ardent pro-Israel figures, both evangelical and Jewish. For example, Texas oil billionaire Tim Dunn – a lesser-known but influential evangelical donor – emerged as one of the top contributors to Trump's 2024 comeback campaign. Dunn, a self-described Christian nationalist, gave $5 million in late 2023, making him the eighth-largest donor to Trump's effort. He had previously spent millions advancing hard-right religious causes in Texas. The appeal for donors like Dunn is clear: Trump's policies align with their theological conviction that supporting Israel is a biblical mandate, and with their desire for an administration that champions conservative Christian values at home and abroad. "Some of the most significant donors to Trump's campaign have come from key Jewish and pro-Israel evangelical megadonors," reported Haaretz. While Sheldon Adelson's passing in early 2021 marked the loss of Trump's single biggest patron, his widow Miriam Adelson remained a coveted supporter (Trump reportedly courted her for 2024 funds). Other figures, like Home Depot co-founder Bernard Marcus and financier Paul Singer, also strongly favored Trump's Israel stance, though Singer in particular had a complicated relationship with Trump.

The symbiotic relationship is plain: donors get policy influence, and Trump gets the cash and political cover to pursue an unapologetically pro-Israel agenda. In an administration often described as transactional, support for Israel became a currency of its own. As one Carnegie Endowment analysis put it, the Trump team's splashy Middle East moves could be partially "blame[d] on the U.S. presidential elections and Trump's pandering to right-wing evangelicals and big pro-Israel donors". Trump himself, never shy about mixing money and politics, has joked with Jewish audiences about his loyalties. In one speech to Jewish Republicans, he quipped that Israel literally had a "prime minister in me" and that "standing with Israel" was also about securing their support as donors – a rare moment of saying the quiet part out loud.

First Term Flashpoints: Jerusalem, Golan and the Abraham Accords

Trump's **first term ** was marked by a series of paradigm-shifting decisions on Israel, each with far-reaching implications. These moves delivered on campaign promises and solidified Trump's standing with his base – but also upended longstanding U.S. policy.

• Jerusalem as Capital & Embassy Move : In December 2017, Trump formally recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel and announced plans to move the U.S. Embassy there from Tel Aviv. This fulfilled the requirements of a 1995 U.S. law (the Jerusalem Embassy Act) that previous presidents had waived. The decision was a political triumph for Trump's evangelical and right-wing Jewish supporters, who had been "waiting since 1995" for this moment. It sparked jubilation in the Israeli government – Netanyahu hailed Trump's move as "making history by recognizing history" – but condemnation from Palestinian leaders and U.S. allies who warned it could derail peace efforts. On May 14, 2018, the embassy was officially opened in Jerusalem. Jared Kushner, Trump's senior adviser (and son-in-law), told the ceremony that "when President Trump makes a promise, he keeps it". Even as Kushner spoke, tens of thousands of Palestinian protesters in Gaza faced off with Israeli troops; over 50 were killed that day, a grim reminder of the policy's contentious fallout. But for Trump, the optics were clear: he had delivered a once-in-a-generation victory for Israel's claim to Jerusalem, delighting the religious right at home. The domestic payoff was reflected in polls – a surge of approval among evangelicals – and in accolades from figures like John Hagee, who called Trump "the most pro-Israel president ever."

• Recognizing Israeli Sovereignty over Golan Heights : In March 2019, Trump took another unprecedented step: via Twitter, he proclaimed that the U.S. would recognize Israel's sovereignty over the Golan Heights, a strategic plateau Israel captured from Syria in the 1967 war. This reversed decades of U.S. policy (the Golan had long been treated as occupied Syrian land in peace negotiations). Coming just weeks before Israel's April 2019 elections, it was widely seen as a political gift to Netanyahu. "It's very obvious that this is eleven days before the Israeli election," noted Aaron David Miller, a veteran U.S. Middle East negotiator – calling the Golan move a "transparent effort to do something… positive for Mr. Netanyahu 20-plus days away from a very critical election". Netanyahu certainly seized it; he splashed Trump's proclamation across his campaign, showcasing his close bond with Washington. At the signing ceremony in D.C., Netanyahu, beaming, told Trump: "You have made history." The Israeli prime minister even took the extraordinary step of later inaugurating a symbolic new settlement dubbed "Trump Heights" in the Golan to honor Trump. For Trump, this was another instance where personal and political calculus converged: he rewarded a loyal ally , pleased pro-Israel advocates, and underscored his brand as a dealmaker who shatters norms. Internationally, the move earned reproach (the U.N., E.U., and Arab League all opposed it), but domestically it played well with the same constituencies that applauded the Jerusalem decision.

• The "Deal of the Century" and Tilted Mediation : Trump had campaigned on being the ultimate dealmaker, even musing that he'd like to broker the "ultimate deal" between Israelis and Palestinians. In January 2020, after years of work by Jared Kushner and envoy Jason Greenblatt, the White House unveiled its Middle East Peace Plan. Billed as the "Deal of the Century," it was essentially a blueprint drawn in Netanyahu's image. The plan granted Israel permanent control of all Jerusalem, recognized Israeli sovereignty over all settlements and the Jordan Valley, and set strict conditions on any future Palestinian "state" (a demilitarized entity on fragmented territory with no control of its borders). In exchange, Palestinians were offered economic incentives and the possibility of a statelet if they met a long list of demands. Unsurprisingly, the Palestinian leadership rejected the plan outright, with President Mahmoud Abbas calling it "a slap of the century." But that outcome may have been anticipated – even desired – by Trump's team. The plan codified America's alignment with the Israeli right's vision, delighting Trump's evangelical allies who do not support land concessions. One prominent evangelical leader present at the White House ceremony was heard likening Trump to King Cyrus again, for "allowing Israel to reconquer Judea and Samaria," the biblical names for the West Bank. Though the plan did not lead to negotiations, it sent a clear signal: under Trump, U.S. mediation meant siding with Israel's maximum positions, not acting as a neutral arbiter.

• The Abraham Accords : Perhaps Trump's most celebrated foreign-policy achievement was the Abraham Accords – a series of normalization agreements between Israel and several Arab states. In August–September 2020, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain agreed to establish full diplomatic ties with Israel, with U.S. brokerage by Jared Kushner. Sudan and Morocco soon followed in some form. These accords broke a long-standing Arab consensus (the Arab Peace Initiative) that no normalization with Israel would occur until Palestinian statehood was resolved. To Trump and his supporters, the Abraham Accords were a masterstroke of dealmaking: they forged new alliances across the Middle East, isolated Iran, and proved that peace deals could happen without addressing the Palestinian issue. At a White House signing ceremony in September 2020, Trump basked in the imagery of peacemaker – a president presiding over Israelis and Arabs shaking hands. But analysts noted an electoral subtext. The timing, weeks before the U.S. 2020 election, offered Trump a diplomatic victory to tout. And crucially, the accords resonated with Trump's evangelical base and pro-Israel donors. "Blame it on the U.S. presidential elections and Trump's pandering to right-wing Evangelicals and big pro-Israel donors," one observer wrote of the UAE-Israel deal, calling it "cold, hard political opportunism" at the expense of the Palestinians. Indeed, Trump himself drew the connection: on Fox & Friends, he touted the Israel-UAE accord as "incredible for the Evangelicals… The Evangelicals love Israel". By delivering a historic nod to Israel's acceptance in the region, Trump reinforced the narrative that no president had done more for Israel's security and legitimacy.

These first-term flashpoints solidified Trump's legacy in Israel. Israelis even named a few things after him (beyond Trump Heights, an Israeli train station planned for near the Western Wall was to be named after Trump). Netanyahu declared that "no one has done more for Israel" than Trump – a talking point Trump eagerly repeated. Domestically, each move energized key constituencies: the embassy and Golan decisions thrilled evangelicals and conservative Jews; the Abraham Accords impressed foreign policy hawks and even some centrists. Even as critics warned that Trump was sacrificing America's credibility as an honest broker and undermining prospects for a two-state solution, Trump and his allies saw only political upside in these bold steps.

Trump 2.0: A Second Term of Unwavering Support

As of 2025, in his second term, President Trump has only doubled down on his strong pro-Israel stance – continuing the trajectory set in his first four years. Early into the new term, Trump signaled that expanding the Abraham Accords is a top priority. "Last week, Trump vowed to add more countries to the Abraham Accords," Reuters reported in March 2025. The "grand prize" is Saudi Arabia – the most influential Arab state that has yet to formally recognize Israel. Trump announced plans for a spring 2025 trip to Saudi Arabia, his first foreign trip of the new term, explicitly linking it to both arms deals and the normalization push. Administration officials hinted that talks were underway for a U.S.-Saudi-Israel agreement, though complicated by the fallout of a recent war in Gaza. Trump has claimed more countries are eager to join if the U.S. brokers the right terms. His message is clear: he aims to surpass his first-term achievements by brokering a truly regional peace alignment – a feat that would secure his legacy and, not incidentally, further cement the U.S.-Israel alliance against Iran.

On the Israeli-Palestinian front, Trump's second term approach remains unequivocally siding with Israel's hard line. After a brutal new conflict with Hamas in Gaza (the October 2023 Hamas attacks and subsequent Israeli offensive), Trump's statements continued to reflect a mix of hawkishness and transactional thinking. Initially, he drew controversy – and rare Republican criticism – for berating Netanyahu's government for being caught off guard by Hamas, even calling Hezbollah "very smart". But he quickly walked back those remarks amid backlash, emphatically declaring, "I kept Israel safe, remember that. Nobody else will, nobody else can". As the Gaza war wore on and civilian casualties mounted, Trump urged Israel to "finish up your war" and "get the job done". He expressed concern that Israel was "losing the PR war" and needed to wrap up military operations to avoid international fallout. This stance – pressing Israel to deal a decisive blow to Hamas, then move on – mirrored that of many on the Israeli right (who sought victory at all costs) as well as some U.S. evangelicals who viewed the war in biblical terms. Notably, Trump showed little empathy for Palestinian suffering in his comments. While calling for the killing to stop "to get on to peace," he offered no plan for Gaza's humanitarian crisis or the political future of Palestinians. His former adviser John Bolton bluntly assessed that "Trump is delusional… He doesn't have any idea what to do in the Middle East in this situation", beyond claiming he'd have prevented the war by sheer deterrence.

In policy terms, Trump's administration has continued or intensified measures to isolate Palestinian authorities and support Israel's freedom of action. During his first term, Trump had cut all U.S. aid to the Palestinian Authority and refugee programs, and shut down the PLO's diplomatic mission in Washington. President Biden restored some humanitarian aid, but even before Trump's return, funding for the U.N. agency for Palestinian refugees was suspended again amid Israeli accusations of incitement. Trump's new budget has zeroed out aid to the Palestinians entirely, and he has called on other nations to do the same, arguing no money should go to Gaza or the West Bank as long as there's a risk it could benefit Hamas or "terrorists." In campaign mode, he had explicitly promised to cut off all U.S. aid to Palestinians and he has kept that promise, to the applause of his evangelical and conservative Jewish backers. Furthermore, Trump's team has empowered staunchly pro-Israel figures in key roles: for instance, his new Middle East envoy, perhaps an evangelical business ally like Mike Evans or a hardline donor-activist, has made it clear the U.S. will not press Israel on settlements or human rights issues. In private, administration officials have tacitly given a green light to Netanyahu's ultra-nationalist coalition to proceed with policies previously discouraged by Washington – such as expanding West Bank settlements and de facto annexation of certain areas. During Trump's first term, Netanyahu put annexation plans on hold in exchange for the Abraham Accords, but those plans never died. Now, with Trump back, elements of Israel's government believe they have an historic opportunity to cement Israeli sovereignty over more of the West Bank without U.S. obstruction.

Trump's second-term foreign policy also continues to align with Israel's regional strategy vis-à-vis Iran. Having dismantled the Iran nuclear deal earlier, Trump 2.0 has maintained a regime of maximal sanctions and confrontational rhetoric. In early 2025, Trump even threatened war with Iran if Tehran did not agree to his terms on a "new deal," a stark warning delivered as Iran inched its nuclear program forward. The president pointedly did not clarify if such a war would be led by the U.S. or Israel or both. This bluster tracks closely with the desires of Israel's government, which has long reserved the right to strike Iran's nuclear facilities. By raising the specter of joint military action, Trump reinforces the sense of U.S.-Israel united front. His administration has also quietly supported Israeli airstrikes against Iranian proxies in Syria and Iraq, expanding coordination to contain Iran's influence. All of this pleases Trump's pro-Israel donors and advisors, who see his hard line on Iran as an extension of his pro-Israel bona fides. As one of Trump's 2018 midterm campaign slogans went: "Trump withdrew from the disastrous Iran deal – promises made, promises kept."

At home, Trump's positioning yields ongoing domestic political benefits. The Republican Party, now thoroughly Trumpian, touts his Israel record as a contrast to the Democrats. Trump and GOP surrogates accuse Democrats of being weak on Israel or tolerating rising anti-Israel sentiment on the left – a tactic aimed at peeling away a portion of traditionally Democratic Jewish voters and solidifying evangelical turnout. Right-wing evangelical leaders continue to rally their flocks with the message that Trump is carrying out God's will regarding Israel. "He who blesses Israel will be blessed," they quote from Genesis, arguing that Trump's America is being blessed with prosperity and security as a result. On Christian television networks and from pulpits, Trump's embassy move and Israel deals are celebrated as proof of divine favor. Such narratives keep his religious base intensely loyal, even amid any unrelated controversies. Meanwhile, the flow of pro-Israel campaign money has again ramped up. A network of conservative PACs, some funded by pro-Israel billionaires like the late Adelson's allies and new evangelical financiers, is fueling Trump's campaign and attack ads against opponents. They point to Trump's Israel decisions as evidence of his courage and conviction.

The Right-Wing and Evangelical Alliance in Context

Trump's steadfast pro-Israel stance cannot be viewed in isolation; it is part of a broader realignment of American politics and ideology. Over the past two decades, support for Israel has become a defining element of Republican identity, intertwined with evangelical Christianity and a nationalist, strongman-style ethos. The shift is striking: historically, U.S. support for Israel was a bipartisan consensus, and Democrats often led the peace process. But partisan polarization changed that. Today, polls show Republicans view Israel far more favorably than Democrats do – 78% of Republicans had a positive view of the Israeli people, versus 60% of Democrats, in one survey. Among white evangelicals, favorability toward Israel is an overwhelming 86%. Issues like abortion, LGBTQ rights, and religious liberty forged an alliance between evangelicals and the GOP; Israel became another pillar of that alliance, seen as a "Christian nation" kindred to the U.S. and a bulwark against Islam. Neoconservatives (many of whom are secular but strongly pro-Israel) also found a home in the GOP after 9/11, bringing an interventionist, Israel-centric foreign policy perspective. By 2016, when Trump emerged, the stage was set for the GOP to embrace an unabashedly pro-Israel platform – and Trump delivered, albeit in his own brash, transactional style.

Within this context, Trump's pro-Israel fervor both energizes and is fueled by the broader right-wing movement. Far-right European populists, who admire Trump, also often profess support for Israel – seeing in Israel a nationalist ethnostate fighting jihadists (somewhat paradoxically, given Europe's own histories of antisemitism). Trump's alignment with Israel endeared him to these international allies as well. Domestically, the evangelical "America First" crowd and the pro-Israel neoconservative wing found common ground in Trump after years of mutual suspicion. They might have differed on some issues (e.g. nation-building abroad), but on Israel and confronting Iran, they marched in lockstep under Trump's banner. Prominent evangelical political organizers like Ralph Reed and Tony Perkins extolled Trump's Israel actions at every opportunity, helping maintain grassroots enthusiasm. At the same time, think-tanks like the Foundation for Defense of Democracies and the Heritage Foundation – which influence GOP policy – consistently advocated the kinds of steps Trump took regarding Israel, reinforcing an intellectual rationale for what some call Christian Zionism meets America First nationalism.

Consequences and Criticisms

Trump's motivations for aligning so closely with Israel are manifold – religious fervor (among his base), strategic calculation, donor service, and personal chemistry with Israel's leaders. This alignment has reaped him significant political rewards, but it has not been without controversy or consequence:

• Eroding U.S. Mediator Credibility: By openly siding with Israel on virtually all issues, Trump undermined the U.S.'s traditional role as a mediator in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Palestinian officials outright refused to engage with the Trump administration after the Jerusalem move and the slashing of aid. America's image in much of the Arab and Muslim world took a hit, complicating other diplomatic relationships (though the Abraham Accords partly countered this by showing some Arab states prioritizing their interests over Palestinian solidarity). Critics say Trump's approach mortgaged long-term peace prospects for short-term political gains.

• Human Rights and Stability Concerns: Trump's carte blanche to Israel's government emboldened its most hardline elements. Settlement construction surged during his tenure, and by 2025 the West Bank's instability worsened with frequent clashes in hotspots like Jenin and Nablus. Gaza, devastated by wars, remained under blockade with a dire humanitarian crisis. Opponents argue that ignoring Palestinian rights will sow seeds of future conflict, and that a policy driven by one-sided ideology risks explosive outcomes (as seen in the 2023 war sparked by Hamas's desperation and brutality). Even some Israeli security experts caution that Trump's approach, while gratifying, could ultimately harm Israel's security by eliminating hope for Palestinians and fueling extremism.

• Mainstream Jewish Reception: Interestingly, while Trump often claimed American Jews should vote for him because of his Israel record, the majority did not. Around 70-75% of U.S. Jews continued to vote Democratic in 2020 and presumably 2024, many uncomfortable with Trump's flirtation with nativist and antisemitic tropes (even as he supported Israel). Some Jewish commentators argued that Trump's hyper-politicization of Israel support actually fractured bipartisan backing for Israel. They worry that tying Israel so tightly to one party and one ideological camp (evangelical right-wing politics) could backfire if U.S. demographics shift. For example, younger Americans and minority faith groups are less reflexively pro-Israel; by aligning Israel with divisive U.S. culture wars, Trump may have made support for Israel a more partisan and thus less secure pillar of U.S. policy in the long run.

• Geopolitical Trade-offs: Trump's strong pro-Israel stance did yield clear geopolitical wins – chief among them, the Arab normalization deals that reshaped regional alliances. But there were trade-offs. Iran responded to "maximum pressure" by accelerating its nuclear program and regional aggression, bringing the Middle East closer to a potential wider war. Turkey, a NATO ally, grew more distant as Trump backed Israel and the Gulf against common foes. And Russia found opportunities in the region's shifting sands as the U.S. focused on pleasing certain allies. In essence, Trump gambled that unequivocal alignment with Israel and its Sunni Arab partners would produce stability through strength – an arguable proposition as conflicts in Syria, Gaza, and Yemen continued to burn. As of 2025, the Middle East is in a tenuous state: a fragile post-war Gaza ceasefire, an unresolved Iranian nuclear question, and internal strife in Israel over its domestic policies. Trump's approach faces its sternest tests in this environment.

Yet, for all these criticisms, Trump and his core supporters remain staunch in their belief that his pro-Israel policy is both morally right and strategically sound. Evangelical leaders see no downside – to them, supporting Israel is a biblical imperative that supersedes worldly concerns. Pro-Israel donors remain satisfied that their money is influencing U.S. policy in their preferred direction. And Trump himself measures success in political capital: by that measure, his alignment with Israel has solidified his base and kept key backers in his corner.

Faith, Politics, and the Future of the Alliance

Donald Trump's consistently strong pro-Israel stance is the product of a perfect storm of influences: genuine ideological affinity with Israel's right-wing and evangelical Christian Zionism; shrewd political strategy to galvanize a loyal base; and responsive patronage to deep-pocketed donors who prioritize Israel. It has been reinforced by personal bonds and a transactional view of foreign policy ("you support me, I'll support you"). The result is an American presidency unlike any before it in its approach to Israel – unapologetically one-sided, rooted as much in Oklahoma and Idaho church pews as in Middle East policy salons.

Trump has recast the Republican Party's center of gravity firmly around an alliance with Israel that is at once political, religious, and cultural. He tapped into a strain of American evangelical belief that sees Israel's fate as intertwined with America's own divine mission. In turn, he empowered a foreign government to pursue its most hardline ambitions with minimal restraint from Washington. Whether one views this as a righteous revival of U.S.-Israel relations or a dangerous departure from diplomacy often falls along the same ideological lines that Trump has both exploited and exemplified.

As Trump navigates his second term, the durability of this approach will be tested. Can the "biblical foreign policy" and donor-driven strategy yield lasting peace and security, or will it face a reckoning amid new conflicts? Thus far, Trump appears undeterred. In a recent statement from the Oval Office, he reflected on his Middle East record, mixing pugnacity with pride. "They said it couldn't be done – Jerusalem, the Golan, peace deals – but we did it," he asserted. "We've been a blessing to Israel, and in turn America has been blessed". It was a telling choice of words, echoing scripture.

In the eyes of his supporters, Trump's pro-Israel fervor has indeed reaped blessings: political victories, fulfilled prophecies, and a realignment of global politics in favor of nationalist interests. To his critics, the same fervor courts disaster by forsaking balance and justice. What is undeniable is that Trump's alliance with Israel – forged at the crossroads of politics and prophecy – has profoundly altered the course of U.S. policy, with ramifications that will be felt for years to come. In Trump's America, the road to electoral triumph runs through Jerusalem, and he shows no sign of changing course on the journey ahead.