Divine Mandate: When Religion Is a Tool of Oppression
“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to cast a stone at her.” - Jesus Christ, crucified by religious leaders because of his teachings and convictions.
A U.S. state lawmaker passionately pushed for bringing the Ten Commandments back into classrooms, saying they’re the bedrock of raising morally grounded citizens. But when another legislator - who also happened to be a clergy member - asked whether those same commandments should be used to hold lawmakers themselves accountable, the fire in her argument cooled fast.
It’s hypocritical how religious standards get loud when aimed at others, but suddenly quiet when turned inward. Seems like, for some, religious accountability is less about guidance and more about control - invoked when it’s convenient, ignored when it’s not.
Religion, when it’s doing what it’s meant to do, can be beautiful - it builds community, gives people a moral anchor, and helps them make sense of the world. But let’s not pretend it hasn’t been twisted for darker purposes. Even now, it’s often used more as a power lever than a spiritual guide, dressing up exclusionary policies in holy language.
The connection between religion and power isn’t new - it’s entrenched in history. In ancient times, rulers didn’t just rule, they claimed a divine mandate, which meant questioning them wasn’t just political rebellion - it was heresy. The blend of sacred and political authority set a pattern we still haven’t fully shaken.
Today, a lot of governments sound secular on paper, but religion is still very much in the political mix. Leaders invoke faith to rally loyalty, stir emotion, and shield their agendas from criticism. And when sacred texts are used to justify policies, it often says more about who holds the power than who’s being downtrodden.
Faith taps into our deepest convictions - about right, wrong, identity, and purpose. That’s why politicians love wrapping policies in religious language; it makes their positions sound divinely endorsed instead of politically motivated. Framing controversial laws as “God’s will” allows them to dodge debate and brand opponents as morally suspect and religiously irreverent.
This’s not a call to abandon religion, but a call to protect the freedom to believe and behave differently. Religion will always influence how people think and live, but whether it brings people together or drives them apart depends on how it's used.
In the U.S., religious nationalism is on the rise as some lawmakers have used religion to justify denying services to certain groups. Evangelical-backed laws are tightening their grip on social issues. Abortion is heavily restricted, and public hospitals are rejecting patients seeking reproductive health care. These measures are framed as moral imperatives.
India’s political landscape shows similar dynamics. Hindu nationalist rhetoric is used to pass anti-conversion laws and tighten citizenship policies, moves that have sparked violence against Muslims, Christians, and other minorities. Leaders lean on ancient texts and cultural nostalgia to label entire communities as threats to national identity.
In places like Russia and Hungary, faith and patriotism are starting to look a lot like the same thing. Political leaders weave religious symbols and rituals into national events, creating this seamless blend of church and state that feels more intentional than traditional. The unspoken message? If you don’t share the dominant religion, you’re not simply different, you’re somehow less authentically part of the nation.
Across parts of Africa, religion is still being used as a means of political control by both extremist groups and state actors. In Nigeria and the Sahel, militants like Boko Haram twist religious teachings to justify violence and destabilize entire regions. Meanwhile, governments in places like Sudan and Ethiopia face criticism for weaponizing religious identity to silence dissent and sideline minority faiths through censorship and crackdowns.
Modern religious oppression tends to follow a familiar playbook: tie faith to national identity, then stir up fear of anyone who doesn’t fit the mold. Leaders rally loyalty by framing outsiders - whether by religion, gender, or ethnicity - as threats to a divinely ordained order. The goal isn’t unity through belief, but control through exclusion.
Once fear takes root, the next move is moral panic. Labeling laws or policies as “God’s will” makes pushback seem like heresy, not disagreement. And when those beliefs get written into law - through bans on so-called blasphemy or restrictions on who can worship - oppression starts to feel official, even righteous.
Religious control is playing out in very real ways across the globe. In parts of the Balkans, blasphemy laws are being used to silence minority voices, with people fined or jailed over vague accusations of offending the dominant church. Meanwhile, in multi-religious nations, Sharia-based laws are being applied to non-Muslim residents through moral policing, restrictions on public behavior, and death threats for blasphemy.
Even in places where church and state are supposed to be separate, religion is being used to draw lines. Far-right parties across Europe are pushing policies that limit the expansion of minority religions under the banner of cultural preservation. And in parts of East Asia, surveillance tech is creeping into houses of worship, leaving religious minorities worried about who’s watching when they gather to pray.
Religion isn’t inherently oppressive - far from it. Around the world, faith communities provide support, advocate for justice, and offer hope in places where governments fall short. From Latin America’s liberation theology to grassroots interfaith coalitions, many religious groups work to uplift, not dominate.
The trouble begins when one interpretation of faith becomes law, leaving no room for disagreement, even within the religion itself. That’s when dogma replaces compassion, and spiritual authority turns into political power. When that happens, religion stops guiding people and starts policing them.
This’s not a call to abandon religion, but a call to protect the freedom to believe and behave differently. Religion will always influence how people think and live, but whether it brings people together or drives them apart depends on how it's used. The key is knowing when faith is guiding hearts and when it’s being used to tighten control. A healthy society doesn’t force a choice between belief and governance, it asks us to keep both grounded in justice, dignity, and the rights of everyone.