Tucker Carlson speaks at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, Oct. 21, 2025. Photo: Gage Skidmore/ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters Connect

There is a new digital gospel sweeping the American landscape. It preaches grievance, faith, and freedom in equal measures. Its apostles include the likes of Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, Nick Fuentes, and a proliferating class of imitators.

Freed from the guardrails of editors and regulators, they feed off of mob fury and algorithmic applause. They use their pulpits to preach of national decay, all while wrapping themselves in the vestments of Christian renewal.

They all claim to be “just asking questions,” but by some perverse irony, the answer is always the same. Behind every corruption, every lost ideal, and every “establishment,” they inevitably will find the familiar silhouette of the Jew.

They have updated the tropes with terms like globalists, neo-cons, and Christian Zionists, but the pogrom-era rhetoric remains familiar. This is not theological antisemitism; this is a 21st-century cultural version, an aesthetic antisemitism of mood, meme, and insinuation. Utilizing borrowed piety, they baptize resentment and harvest rage and indignation.

This is their crusade, and they have corrupted a religious thematic to lend them divine coverage. “The truth shall set you free,” is their battle cry, and “Christ is King” has become their slogan of defiance, not devotion.

As my grandmother was fond of saying, “there is nothing new under the sun.” This is not a new gospel, only a recycled heresy. We have a recent and more successful American epoch to which we can look to for perspective. In fact, Tucker and his minions merely plagiarized the playbook of an American Catholic priest just over a century ago known as Father Coughlin.

Charles Coughlin began in Detroit as a preacher of hope — and ended up as one of the most prolific disseminators of antisemitism in American history. Armed with his frock and a national radio program, Coughlin delivered his own racist brand of Christian virtue that was populism with a halo.

He broadcast his divinely inspired grievances, to an audience estimated at its height of up to 40 million people, or roughly one-third of the American population. His diatribes were consistent in that they all revolved around a theme of Jewish conspiracy.

In his telling, Franklin Roosevelt, the New Deal, Wall Street, unions, the press, were all controlled and manipulated by the Jews.

When he launched his radio show, it was moralistic but not sanctimonious; he was charismatic, warm, and conversational.

Everything changed with the Great Depression — when he transitioned from theological to economic populism, less priest, and more crusader. As his popularity soared, his myopic focus on the Jewish population increased accordingly.

As a man who saw things in cosmic good and evil, God versus corruption, he became a demagogue railing against the banks and the “money changers.”

He was vocally defending Hitler, supporting fascism, and reprinting the “Elders of Zion” and other Nazi propaganda. This activity was accompanied by his incessant attacks on the ubiquitous Jew that he saw in every shadow of every corner.

Rabbi Jonathan Sachs once said, “More than hate destroys the hated, it destroys the hater.” In the case of Father Coughlin, his malady had taken him past the point of no return, and his passion had graduated from engaging to psychosis.

The Vatican decided Coughlin was a liability and pulled the plug by instructing him to cease broadcasting. Roosevelt’s government and the FCC decided that the good father had crossed the Rubicon and had no choice but to take him down. He was unceremoniously deprived of mail and radio privileges.

Father Coughlin went back to quiet pastoring for another few decades, and passed away in ignominy in 1979.

Today’s pretenders to Coughlin’s throne are less talented, but they are equally venomous and divisive. We can no longer rely on the church and government to stymie the efforts of those who wish to divide us.

Anyone with a Wi-Fi connection can mine the depths of human debasement and moral despair. Radio towers are no longer the barrier to entry, all that is required today is a grievance and a trending podcast.

In a way, this makes the likes of Carlson, Owens, and Fuentes more dangerous — because no one will be coming to stop them. It will be solely up to the American people to accept or reject what they are selling.

Coughlin’s America had the courage to silence him, but ours has provided a microphone and an audience. America today rightfully does not believe in guardrails and resists cancel culture, but at the same time it mistakes amplification for truth. Racism thrives when institutions abdicate, when grievances are monetized faster than they can be moderated, and when complexity is traded for conspiracy.

Philip Gross is a business executive and writer based in London. Born in New York, he writes on Jewish history, identity, and public affairs.