In sticking by Trump, Republicans and rightwing evangelicals have made a devil’s pact

They had come to say a prayer for the father, the son and the holy ghost.

The father was Donald Trump, who, despite sending federal militias to roam Minneapolis, threatening to invade Greenland and telling lies by the dozen, remains the lord and saviour of the religious right.

The son was his protege, Nayib Bukele, the president of El Salvador, who, despite documented human rights violations and mass detentions that swept up 3,000 children, was praised by a congressman for leadership that displays “character” and “conscience”.

And the holy ghost was the Republican party’s moral spine, now reduced to a phantom thread. “The power of Trump compels you!” as The Exorcist nearly said.

They had gathered on Thursday in the cavernous ballroom of the Washington Hilton hotel for the national prayer breakfast, an annual event where past speakers have included Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Bono, Tony Blair and Bryan Stevenson of the Equal Justice Initiative.

Trump, of course, can be relied upon to make it feel less a church sermon than a knockabout campaign rally. “Good God!” and “Jesus Christ!” are more likely to be exclamations from horrified onlookers than earnest pronouncements from the truly faithful.

In a somewhat slurry tone, the US president, wearing dark suit and purple tie, went on a rhetorical tour of his greatest hits that had nothing to do with either prayer or breakfast. There was the swipe at “transgender insanity”, a rant against bird-killing wind farms, an account of Greenland as “the biggest piece of ice in the world” and a boast that “we have a military where they all look like Tom Cruise only bigger”.

There were insults too. Thomas Massie, the Republican representative of Kentucky, was dismissed as a “moron”, and there was the eternal dilemma of whether to call Trump’s predecessor “Sleepy Joe” or “Crooked Joe”. Trump described Barack Obama as “divisive” yet also observed: “I don’t know how a person of faith can vote for a Democrat.”

There was the obligatory lie that the 2020 election was “rigged” and some crowing about 2024: “I had to win it. I needed it for my own ego. I would have had a bad ego for the rest of my life. Now I really have a big ego. Beating these lunatics was incredible.”

There was also a glimpse into Trump’s sleeping habits. Recalling a past trip to Iraq during his first term, he mused: “I don’t sleep on planes. I don’t like sleeping on planes. You know, I like looking out the window watching for missiles and enemies, actually.”

And Trump, 79, welcomed two special guests. He described Bukele, 44, the self-styled world’s coolest dictator, as “one of my favourite people” and “a great ally”, noting: “He operates rather large prisons.”

Then Trump said: “We’re joined today by a very, very brave and wonderful man. The president of the Congo. President – ” It was a dying fall.

Trump very evidently couldn’t remember Félix Tshisekedi’s name, which at least spared everyone from a mangled pronunciation. Instead he went with: “The president, would you stand up please?” Tshisekedi, placed next to Mike Johnson, the House speaker, at the top table with a golden tablecloth, rose as people clapped. “You’re a brave man,” Trump said, clearly still clueless as to the president’s name.

So far, so secular. But once in a while the most notorious liar in politics does turn out to be the way and the truth and the life.

At one point on Tuesday he recalled how, when he ran for president a decade ago, the southern Baptist pastor Robert Jeffress offered this frank assessment of him: “He may not be as good with the Bible as some of them. He may not have read the Bible as much as some of them. In fact, he may not have ever read the Bible, but he will be a much stronger messenger for us and he will get things done that no other man has the ability to get done.”

Trump added: “You know, I didn’t want to admit anything, but that was very interesting and I think we’ve gotten more done than anybody could have ever gotten done.”

There, in a nutshell, was the devil’s pact that Republicans and rightwing evangelicals have made. Trump is the Persian king Cyrus the Great, who might not embody Christian values yet is God’s chosen instrument to achieve a particular purpose – namely, turning the tide against liberal, godless America. No matter if some of the Ten Commandments get smashed up along the way.

Forty years ago, the then leader of the Republican party, Ronald Reagan, said the late crew of the space shuttle Challenger “slipped the surly bonds of earth” to “touch the face of God”. Trump’s theology is somewhat different.

“Religion,” he mused. “You have to believe in something. You have to believe that what we’re doing, there’s a reason for it. There has to be a reason for it. We’re all working and we’re doing, we’re behaving. I mean, I behave because I’m afraid not to, OK, because I don’t want to get in trouble.”

In a creepy, recently released video interview, Steve Bannon asked Jeffrey Epstein if he was the devil. None of the true believers at Tuesday’s prayer breakfast dared ask that about Trump, who may not have read the Bible but has convinced himself he is on messianic mission and will ride the golden escalator to heaven. “I really think I probably should make it,” he said. “I mean, I’m not a perfect candidate but I did a hell of a lot of good for perfect people.”