Donald Trump's convoy pulled into the parking lot in front of a long, faded brick building north of Des Moines, Iowa. No cameras, no reporters. Inside, around a hundred people were waiting for the former president. It was a quiet atmosphere, far from the ebullient chaos at his rallies. On June 1, 2023, several men placed their hands on the shoulders of Trump, silent and polite for once. Then they asked God to light his way and asked the Republican primary favorite to follow the holy scriptures.

Leading the prayer was jovial 38-year-old Pastor Joshua Bingaman. "I had very little hope for him doing anything. And then he did it. And then he began to lead in a way where he started checking the boxes of the things that he said during his campaign he would do. Moving the the embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, you know, appointing very strong constitutional conservative justices, not just to the Supreme Court, but all through our federal court system," Bingaman later recalled. "He thinks highly of religion, but he's not religious himself. I don't know what his faith is." Bingaman followed a steep path to reach this moment. Son of a chaplain, he fell into drugs while attending university in San Antonio, smoking joints and dealing in his idle hours. There were arrests and family crises. But, during a weekend spent on a religious campus in Dallas, "God's presence knocked me over like a freight train."

Today, he heads First Church, which hosted the confidential meeting with Trump at the request of an organization called Faith Wins. Launched in North Carolina, it brings together dozens of pastors from a number of conservative states. Faith Wins offers candidates direct contact with men of faith in the field. In return, the latter conduct a kind of job interview. The Republican contenders have submitted to this, with the exception of Trump's main opponent, former ambassador Nikki Haley. This is a risky move. According to a study published at the end of 2021 by the Pew Research Center, 24% of Americans described themselves as evangelical Protestants or born again, six points less than in 2007. But in Iowa – the first station in the Republican primaries on January 15 – the weight of this electorate is disproportionate. In 2016, it accounted for 64% of caucus-goers, according to polls.

Operating autonomously, Evangelical churches do not give voting instructions during primaries. Conversely, pastors can express a personal inclination. "It's much easier for those based in very conservative rural communities," summed up Bingaman, stressing the indifference of most voters. "They won't make up their minds until the home stretch. People are thick-skinned, they've developed an immunity to this whole political circus every four years. They're receiving whole packets of campaign posters in their letterboxes, and they quickly throw them away."

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