Clinton Declares War on MAGA ‘Savagery,’ Ignites Faith and Empathy Showdown

Paul Riverbank, 1/31/2026Hillary Clinton reignites political debate, challenging the MAGA movement’s stance on empathy and faith. As critics question her authority, the clash spotlights a deeper struggle over whether true American strength is defined by compassion or toughness.
Featured Story

There are few things as reliably divisive in American public life as a Hillary Clinton essay, and her recent foray in The Atlantic is no exception. With a sharp eye and a measured indignation, Clinton has waded back into national debate—this time questioning not just policy but the very spirit that animates American politics today.

Her essay doesn’t waste time with generalities. “We are facing a crisis of empathy,” Clinton asserts, drawing a straight line between her faith and contemporary politics. Jesus’s commandment to “love thy neighbor,” she writes, shouldn’t be negotiable—but, in her view, kindness is in short supply within what she calls the MAGA movement. If you read between the lines, she isn’t just lamenting the loss of compassion; she’s calling out what she describes as a transformation of savagery from transgression to emblem.

It’s a loaded charge, and predictably, it didn’t take long for conservative media to bristle. BlazeTV’s Allie Beth Stuckey, who has built her brand on challenging left-of-center perspectives around Christian values, returned fire almost immediately. Clinton, in Stuckey’s telling, is accusing her—and by extension, an entire segment of the right—of exploiting faith to undermine true empathy. Stuckey’s riposte? If Clinton’s upset about her warnings against “toxic empathy,” it’s proof her critique has struck a nerve. She’s notably skeptical of Clinton’s role as a moral arbiter, especially given that Clinton herself admits she’s rarely spoken about her faith in public life.

But the former Secretary isn’t writing in a vacuum. She hooks her argument to actual events—most notably, the fatal encounter in Minneapolis involving Alex Pretti and federal officers. For Clinton, this tragedy isn’t just a local story. It’s a parable—she invokes the Good Samaritan, drawing attention to families frightened and children too scared for school. Her point is blunt: when did displays of strength morph into public theater premised on cruelty? She suggests this is less a deviation from the norm and more a deliberate pivot, one that misreads harshness as power.

This argument, of course, doesn’t fly with much of the right. Commentators have resurfaced Clinton’s own stumbles—the Benghazi controversy, the Russia investigation, old wounds from 2016. Some accuse her of selective memory, recalling her infamous “basket of deplorables” remark as evidence that her empathy doesn’t always extend across the aisle. Clinton, for her part, addresses this directly, conceding that we must “see the humanity in even the worst of our fellow human beings,” but standing firm on her condemnation of bigotry.

She’s also wary of what she calls the “Christian nationalist” surge, warning that its influence threatens to eclipse both traditional faith leadership and the broader fabric of American democracy. By naming churches and pointing a finger at Trump-aligned evangelicals, Clinton amplifies concern about the thin line between faith as moral compass and faith as political cudgel.

Peel back the layers, and what’s at stake here isn’t just a rhetorical debate about empathy. It’s a tug-of-war over what qualities define national character. Does resilience mean stoic detachment, as some argue, or a readiness to recognize someone else’s pain? Clinton wants to reclaim empathy as clarity rather than weakness—a trait that widens our moral field instead of closing us off.

Looking ahead, there’s little reason to think these crosscurrents will settle anytime soon. With election season looming, faith and compassion will continue to be weaponized—by both the left and the right—as each side tries to own the narrative on what it truly means to be strong, and to care, in America.