The alt-right has always had an awkward relationship with traditional conservatives. Its love of conspiracy theories, its penchant for violence, and its need for enemies make it hard to build a movement that foments anything besides resentment. There are plenty of decent conservatives out there (many of whom even want to conserve things). But when they align themselves with demagogic merchants of hate in order to energize their movement, it costs them. Their reputation (and the commonweal) deteriorates. William F. Buckley, to take just one notable example, was right to castigate Robert Welch and the conspiratorial, fear-mongering John Birch Society for tarnishing the modern conservative movement.

At the same time, though, any mass political movement needs to mobilize troops. Particularly when the movement in question is faced with the sort of severe long-term demographic decline that American conservatives now face, compromises must be made. Under such conditions, the question becomes: How do you project a positive image that will nonetheless keep your nasty friends engaged? Traditions must be invented. It might serve you well to hark back to a mythic past that not only connotes a sense of uplift but also one of teetering slippage that requires resurrection. It’s the again in “Make America Great Again” that sounds the alarms.

A perfect recent example of this distinctly anti-conservative rhetoric has been the widespread adoption of the idea of a “Judeo-Christian tradition” among the contemporary right’s stalwart culture warriors. In the aftermath of the horrific fire at Notre Dame Cathedral, conservatives saw the conflagration as more than a construction accident. It was a symbolic tearing down of what they perceived to be a more religious past. It was a sign of the demise of old traditions. Their calls to rebuild the cathedral doubled as calls to build a more religious public square, while excluding outsiders like Muslims from participating. Thanks to Hitler, it’s hard to advocate on behalf of any model of Christian nationhood. But “Judeo-Christian” carries a nicer, more tolerant tone—indeed, the idea of ecumenical tolerance spurred its most vibrant coinage among liberals in postwar America.

As in so many other instances of right-wing culture adjudication, preppy talk-radio host Ben Shapiro leads the charge. Notre Dame, he tweeted as the building still burned, “is a central monument to Western civilization, which was built on the Judeo-Christian heritage.” While the tourists who visit the place might agree with the first part of his tweet, the Catholics who worship there will certainly disavow the second part. The cathedral is Catholic, not “Judeo-Christian,” whatever that might be. As many social media users rightly pointed out to Shapiro, shortly after Notre Dame was completed in the 14th century, the Jews were expelled from France. Calling Notre Dame “Judeo-Christian” is a bit like calling Jim Crow-era Mississippi integrationist.

But historical accuracy is not terribly important to invented traditions; utility is. Shapiro’s tweet actually was extending the argument of his most recent book, The Right Side of History. (Another mantra of today’s meme-conscious right is, of course, “always be closing.”) Shapiro’s bestselling tract contends that the United States, suffering under the perverse cultural rule of faithless secular elites, is faltering under the weight of its diversity. The country, he mourns, is moving away from its supposed historic foundations of Greek natural law and Judeo-Christian values. Only by bringing back Athens and Jerusalem can America be saved from itself.