Donald Trump, Four Beasts, and the Son of Man 

Whether you're greeting the emergence of a new world leader with great fear or great hope, the book of Daniel helps us to remember that all human leadership is provisional, partial, and impermanent, writes Helen Paynter

 
 
On 20 January, Donald Trump will be inaugurated for the second time to the presidency of the United States of America. It is my guess that most people reading this article will have strong feelings on this matter.

For the majority of Christians in this country, Trump’s re-election has been a cause for dismay, bewilderment, and perhaps for fear. For those in minority groups, or those who are concerned for such people, there would seem to be a genuine cause for fear. Trump has warned that day one of his presidency will begin mass deportations, the arrests of people with no criminal records, and an end to humanitarian programmes for migrants.

And, to offer a second example, for those worried about the ever-deepening climate crisis there is deep cause for concern.

But for a few people reading this, and for many of our brothers and sisters in the USA, Monday brings a dawn of fresh hope. Many hope that Trump will usher in the age of a new Christian America, and save the nation from the demonic influence of his political opponents.

What does Scripture have to say on this matter? As God’s people have discovered in every generation, the Bible’s extraordinary timelessness will yet again prove itself sufficient for this new chapter in world history.

The book of Daniel, probably written around the time of the Maccabean revolt against the Seleucids, is set within the imperial courts of the Babylonians and the Medo-Persians. This is a time of strong, autocratic leadership, and speaks powerfully to the contemporary cult of the strong leader, particularly in chapter seven. The scene opens with Daniel having a dream of four beasts emerging from the sea.

This image, repeated in Revelation 13, represents the emergence of a new world ruler or empire. Employing the clues in the text, we can try to reconstruct which empires the prophet has in mind. The first beast probably represents Nebuchadnezzar, the greatest king of the Babylonian empire (compare 7:4 with the account of his fall and restoration in chapter 4).

The second beast, then, which is ‘raised up on one side’ (v.5) may represent the Medo-Persians, particularly the Persian king Cyrus who formed an asymmetrical union with the Medes.

The third beast, represented by the speedy leopard, is probably Alexander the Great, famed for the lightning rapidity of his military conquests.

The iron-toothed fourth beast is probably Antiochus IV of the Seleucids, and probably the cruellest tyrant ever to oppress the Israelite or Jewish people.

But whether or not we are precisely right in our attempts to decode Daniel’s symbolism, what matters most is to understand his theological critique of autocratic power. The presence of the sea, stirred up by the winds of heaven (v.2) reflects pre-creational chaos (Gen. 1:2), and so he positions each of these beasts as a monster of chaos. They are anything but benign.

Key here is the way these animals are described as hybrid or malformed. But despite their bestial nature, they also have, or pretend to have, human attributes. The first one gets propped up onto its hind legs ‘like a human being’ and given a human mind (v.4). The third one is accorded dominion (v.6) – that weighty commission God gives uniquely to humans (Gen 1:28). The fourth beast has human-like eyes and speaks arrogantly. In fact, arrogance is a characteristic of all four of them. These are monsters in a human mask.

Chapter seven of Daniel is just the latest in a string of texts in which the prophet relativises all allegiance to human authorities. In chapter one, the four young men selected for fast-tracking into the Babylonian civil service make the courageous choice to obey the constraints of their conscience and culture rather than conform to the norms of the imperial court.

In chapter two, the king has a dream of a statue representing four kingdoms which is wiped out by a single stone, cut from a mountain ‘but not by human hands’, resulting in the establishment of ‘a kingdom that will never be destroyed’ (vv.44-45, NIV). Following Daniel’s successful interpretation of this dream, Nebuchadnezzar prostrates himself before his own courtier, confessing that ‘truly your God is God of gods and Lord of kings and a revealer of mysteries!’ (v.47).

The theme continues in chapter three, which sees the king establishing his own image in a monstrous idol and demanding universal homage to it. In their resistance, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah (cf. 1:7) again relativise the claims of the king in favour of the commands of the Lord. “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to present a defense to you in this matter.” (3:16). In chapter four, the king is reduced to madness on account of his hubris (vv.29-30) until he learns to worship the one whose “kingdom endures from generation to generation”.

Daniel’s vision in chapter seven powerfully reinforces this same message. These mighty world leaders may make great pretentions to humanity, but by means of this bestial imagery they are exposed as brute agents of chaos, their actions characterised by violence and arrogance. This is a powerful message for a senior figure in a royal court such as Daniel to hear; it is a powerful message for us, too.

But the vision continues, as the scene shifts. Now a throne is established in heaven; evidently for God himself (vv.9-10). Then into his presence comes “one like a son of man”. And to this figure is given dominion – there’s that word again. But, unlike the beasts, dominion is legitimately his, because he is truly human. It is also a universal dominion, encompassing ‘all peoples, nations and languages’, and lasting forever (v.14).

What did Daniel foresee, or to what extent did the Spirit enable him to write about things he didn’t fully grasp? But for those of us who live later, who have read the gospels and been schooled in Jesus’ persistent self-description as the ‘Son of Man’, we can join the dots. There has only ever been one truly faithful human, and the obedience of the nations is his.

In a world which is feeling more uncertain and unstable by the year, it is a natural impulse to greet the emergence of new world leader with either great fear or great hope. But the book of Daniel helps us to remember that all human leadership is provisional, partial, and impermanent. All the world’s empires are ultimately monstrous.

As the psalmist puts it:

Do not put your trust in princes,
in mortals, in whom there is no help.
When their breath departs, they return to the earth;
on that very day their plans perish. (Ps. 146:3–4.)

For there is only one Name under heaven by which we may be saved.


Image | Ben Burkhardt | Unsplash
 

Helen Paynter is the founding director of the Centre for the Study of Bible and Violence (csbvbristol.org.uk) and tutor in biblical studies at the Bristol Baptist College.

Her work is in the overlap of Scripture and violence, and her most recent book (The Church, the Far Right, and the Claim to Christianity ed. with Maria Power) explores how the British Church might respond to the rise of right-wing extremism.

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