The first quarter of this century in the United States saw the rise and triumph of “team politics,” in which voters view the Democratic and Republican parties less as representatives of an ideology or set of policies than as opposing teams defined by culture, style and aesthetics. Democrats follow TikTok or Threads, shop at Trader Joe’s, drive Volvos, support their children when they come out as gay and live in big cities; they vote Democratic whether the candidate is a pro-Gaza progressive like AOC or a Zionist corporatist like Josh Shapiro. Republicans display American flags, wear heavy eyeliner, shop at Wal-Mart, follow X and stay up late worrying about transwomen in sports; they vote Republican whether the candidate is a libertarian like Rand Paul or an interventionist like Lindsey Graham.

Voters increasingly view members of the opposing party not just as people with different ideas, but as a direct threat to the country. Reduced engagement across the party divide makes long-term problem-solving nearly impossible. Within each party, partisan leaders who know their polling floor is assured feel little pressure to be responsive to the needs and desires of their own base.

Which explains why American voters don’t pressure winning candidates to fulfill their promises after they become officeholders. “If all I care about is the game and my side winning, then what happens between games? I am not paying much attention to policy after the election. I’m only tuning back in at game time to find out who my team is fielding in the election,” said Patrick Miller, a University of Kansas assistant professor of political science who co-authored the 2015 study “Red and Blue States of Mind: Partisan Hostility and Voting in the United States.” And when they check in two to four years later? Odds are, they’re disappointed.

Twenty-five years ago, in 2001, 87% of Democrats and 90% of Republicans—essentially identical numbers, within the polling margin of error—said they were proud to be American. The GOP number has held steady, hanging at 92% last year. The Democratic figure has fallen off a cliff, to 36%. That quarter century, of course, has been defined by hard-right Republican presidents—Bush and Trump—and soft-left Democratic ones—Obama and Biden. (Even under Biden, Democrats believed their side was losing; 60% of Republicans think their side is winning in politics.) As the nation has shifted right, Republican voters are emboldened, Democratic voters feel unmoored and dispossessed, and Republicans interpret Democratic despair as disloyalty.

The good news is, team politics have run their course. The bad news is, something even more radical is replacing it: politics as religion.

Where team politics is/was about identifying with a group of people who think and act and maybe even dress like you, politics as religion is a phenomenon observed in societies governed by extreme ideologies of the far left, like Soviet and Chinese communism, and the far right, like Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany.

Like religion, politics as religion is centered around faith—not in God or his prophet, but in a politician.

Hebrews 11:1 sets out the classic Biblical definition: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction (or evidence) of things not seen.” Faith is essential to religion. In politics, it represents the ultimate danger to rationalism, checks and balances and sanity. When citizens blindly place their trust in the judgment, benevolence and competence of a fallible human being, no matter how honorable or well-intentioned, to control all the biggest decisions of a nation, that’s dictatorship or absolute monarchy. Disaster usually ensues.

Social media posts increasingly express professions of faith that allow no space for the possibility that “their” politician might on occasion make a mistake, much less betray them.

I trust President Trump. I know his heart…his instincts are very, very good.

Trump never makes a mistake.

Trump is playing six-dimensional chess.
I trust Trump no matter what.

I will refrain from criticizing the president. The point is, Trump says tens of thousands of things a month and makes scores of decisions a day about a constellation of issues and policies. He will, inevitably, let down the supporters who vote Republican 94% of the time. Over time, he will disappoint all of them. Even if Trump is Santa Claus, there is no Santa Claus. Unlike religious faith, which can never be disproven, the fact that politics as religion will be proven to have been misplaced is as immutable as the bullet Hitler fired through his skull.

Lest Democrats reading this be tempted to feel superior, many of your party’s flock are equally deluded. Let us proclaim some liberal articles of faith:

Biden was mentally fit, or fit enough, and if not fit enough he was better than any Republican.

He is not senile. He has a stutter.

Obama epitomized personal decency and ethical behavior.

Hillary and Kamala were defeated due to their sex.

Both major parties’ denizens call each other cultists. They are right.

“Vote Blue No Matter Who” liberals who hope and pray and trust that the DNC has their best interests and those of the nation paramount in their minds, and vote Democratic 96% of the time, will wind up just as disappointed as Team MAGA.

What follows politics as religion? When an intensive belief regime collapses, true believers who derived their core identity and meaning from it suffer brutal psychological disruption. A totalizing worldview provides clear rules, a sense of purpose and belonging, and stripped-down moral reasoning. A sudden end removes that mental scaffolding.

Alienation, anxiety and helplessness abound.

At last: liberals and conservatives have something in common.

(Ted Rall, the political cartoonist, columnist and graphic novelist, is the author of “Never Mind the Democrats. Here’s What’s Left.” Subscribe: tedrall.Substack.com. He is co-host of the podcast “DeProgram with Ted Rall and Jamarl Thomas.”)