Donald Trump and the Amish

Photo: Marie-France Coallier Le Devoir Emily Petersheim, 17, who goes to work at the Kountry Kupboard Boutique in the village of Intercourse.

Jessica Nadeau in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

Published at 12:00 am

• United States

In the state of Pennsylvania, the last presidential election was particularly close. Donald Trump won in 2016, then Joe Biden in 2020, each time by a margin of about one percentage point. In this context, Republicans are courting the Amish of Lancaster, a community of nearly 50,000 people who still vote very little, but who could tip the balance in this swing state.

“Hello, I just finished a toaster cover, would you like to see it?” Wearing a white bonnet, round glasses, a long black dress and black shoes, Fanny greets visitors with a soft and friendly voice in her antique shop which is overflowing with trinkets, quilts and other souvenirs typical of Amish Country.

Fanny is used to tourists. They come from all over to discover the Lancaster region of Pennsylvania, which is home to one of the largest Amish communities in the United States.

Considered “progressive”—on their own scale—the Amish of Lancaster do not live in seclusion, but mix with the rest of the population in the small villages of the region. They travel by horse-drawn carriage, but can get into a car driven by someone else. They are not connected to electricity, but they do have solar panels. They are not allowed to use electronic devices, except in their businesses, but some young people do have cell phones. Modernity is finding a way to make its way into the ancestral Amish way of life. But some subjects—like politics—remain taboo.

Fanny's smile freezes and she instinctively takes two steps back when she discovers that the customers are in fact journalists who want to talk about the presidential election. “I don’t want to talk about that. We need to pray for the government, that's what the Bible tells us to do,” she said, walking away as quickly as possible.

This refusal to talking politics — and the discomfort that follows any question related to this subject — is repeated among practically all those whom Le Devoir approached during his visit to the green countryside from Pennsylvania last spring.

Photo: Marie-France Coallier Le Devoir Aaron, 66, waiting for the bus holding his money in his hand in front of the antique shop “The Old Woodshed” in Intercourse. He knows nothing about politics. “Elections? It's in God's hands.”

Radical separation between church and state

To understand the Amish's lack of interest in politics, we have to go back to the origins of the movement and the Protestant Reformation. “At the time, we thought the Church had gotten too bogged down in politics and economics and we contested all that,” explains Alain Bouchard, lecturer in religious studies at Université Laval.

It was on this “radical separation of church and state” that the Amish movement was founded in the 16th century. Even today, the distinction between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of man is a central value. “In some Amish communities, they don’t vote at all. But there are exceptions, like here,” says Steven Nolt, a senior fellow at the Young Center for Anabaptist and Pietist Studies at Elizabethtown University in Pennsylvania.

In Lancaster County, less than 10 percent of the Amish population exercises their right to vote. The vast majority of its support goes to the Republican Party, which is seen “as being more sympathetic to religious groups and traditional values,” summarizes Erik Wesner, founder of the website Amish America.

Several members of the community also have small family businesses in carpentry or retail, which makes them susceptible to the pro-entrepreneurship discourse of the Republicans, adds the one who describes himself as an observer of the Amish world for more than 20 years. And, of course, they are against abortion.

Photo: Marie-France Coallier Le Devoir An Amish grocery store that sells local products produced by the community.

Bush's friends, seduced by Trump

It was George W. Bush, in 2004, who was the first politician to make a major breakthrough among the Amish of Pennsylvania, whose turnout reached a record 14%, notes Steven Nolt, who analyzes the vote of this group in each election. According to the researcher, the presence of a local candidate who knew the community well and spoke its German dialect had a concrete impact.

Bush’s personality—and his visit to an Amish market in Lancaster—had also made an impression. “I was a great friend of the Bush family,” says Amos Fisher, who sells artisanal jams, preserves and cheeses in the village of Paradise, proudly. “I never met Mr. Bush, but one of his employees saw a quilt my wife had made and he ordered a king-size one. It went to Laura Bush for Christmas. And we got a letter from the Bush family.”

Unexpectedly, Donald Trump also managed to convince the community to vote in 2020, thanks in part to the support of Lloyd Smucker, a Republican elected to the U.S. House of Representatives who was born into an Amish family in Lancaster.

The idea of ​​a businessman running a family business who speaks in a popular language seems to appeal to the community, notes the founder of Amish America, Erik Wesner, who does not hide his surprise. “I could understand with Bush, who had a more Christian lifestyle, but Trump really does not have an image of a pious man. There are many reasons why one would assume that the Amish would not be attracted to this candidate, so I must admit that I was a little surprised to see that many decided to vote for him.”

Photo: Marie-France Coallier Le Devoir The Amish carriages sit side by side with the cars.

“A Disaster”

Tending to his tulips behind the family market where a tourist bus has stopped, Amos Fisher wonders what he will do on November 5. He voted for Donald Trump in the last two elections, but now he says the aspiring White House candidate is “a disaster.”

What's Changed? In veiled terms, the man explains that he cannot accept the fact that the former president paid a porn actress to try to avoid a scandal.

While members of his community have been strong Trump supporters “for a while,” Fisher is no longer sure whether they support him or not, as it’s not something that’s discussed at family dinners or among friends. But he knows he’s not alone in considering not voting due to a lack of options. “I don’t know what to do. I’m asking God to guide me.”

This report was funded with support from the Transat International Journalism Fund- Le Devoir .