
Dante Gebel has been on stage for almost three hours and still maintains absolute control over the room. Dressed in an impeccable black suit, he moves with the confidence of someone who knows the times of the show and the audience by heart. He doesn’t give a sermon or celebrate a traditional church service: what happens in front of thousands of people is more like a hybrid show between a stand-up performance and a concert than an evangelical ceremony.
He danced throughout the night, singing songs by Julio Iglesias and José Feliciano, imitating his mother with a sonorous voice, quoting Neruda and Shakespeare, projecting images of Diego Maradona and showing photos of the modest house in San Martín where he grew up. He made veiled jokes about Javier Milei and Patricia Bullrich and caused constant laughter. For a good portion of the show, he did everything but preach, a label — that of evangelical pastor — that he has been trying to shed for years.
“Jesus” doesn’t appear until forty minutes later, almost as an afterthought. The “Sermon on the Mount”, one of the most famous sermons in Christianity, is left for the end. If someone went early, they might think they were watching a comedy show with emotional moments and political references. Gebel is aware of this mistake and plays with it. “I see that some people are taking out the spiritualometer, hoping that I will stop with the jokes and talk more about the Bible,” he says from the stage before returning to sing an eighties ballad in complicity with his audience.
Authoritarians don’t like that
The practice of professional and critical journalism is a mainstay of democracy. That is why it bothers those who believe that they are the owners of the truth.
This step is not improvised. Gebel describes his theater and media appearances as a “Trojan horse” – such as his show on Channel 13 produced by Mario Pergolini or his cycles on Radio 10 – and digital appearances, in which he has collected more than a billion views. The strategy is clear: come in to highlight the culture, humor and emotion, then introduce the spiritual message. “We do it intentionally so that it doesn’t have that religious undertone and people don’t say, ‘That’s another pastor asking for offerings,'” he explains. At the River Church in California, a stadium with a capacity for almost 5,000 people where she has officiated for fifteen years, the tone changes: there the focus is on God, the Bible and Jesus, and the services end with prayer and hands pointing to the sky.
This dual identity – cultural on the outside, religious on the inside – is uncomfortable even in the evangelical world. More classical sectors look at him askance, question his style and grumble when they see him doing comedy or singing. But success is in sight. The “Presidente” tour, which just ended with two packed Gran Rex and a full-house national tour, was designed for all types of audiences. Or for all types of voters.
The show revolves around a simple slogan: What Gebel would do if “he were president for a day.” The suggestions are deliberately abstract – home, old age, death – but the focus is not on what is said, but on what is generated. At several moments the audience chants “President, President.” “I want him to get involved, he has God on his side,” says an octogenarian woman, moved to tears. “I voted for Milei, but if Dante ran, I would go with him,” says a young entrepreneur. Gebel responds with calculated equivocation: “You can’t vote for me yet, but who knows what Providence is up to.” In interviews, he went a step further and admitted that he would like to “do something more official.”
The idea is not only circulating among his fans. Peronist, libertarian and labor leaders are already working to tempt him. Its media environment guarantees visibility, while the accounts and tweeters that promote it multiply on the networks. The growth of evangelism – almost 20% of the population – and its entry into Congress with its own weight for the first time complete the picture. The question is quietly repeated: If a marginal economist like Milei came to power, why couldn’t a charismatic communicator like Gebel also come to power?
In 2009 he moved to the USA with his family. In 2015 he bought the River Arena and consolidated a corporate network that includes ministries, production companies and foundations. According to him, he lives from his shows, books and networks and donates the income generated in Argentina. He says he has donated $46 million since 2020.
Contact with politics is not new. At that time he asked to vote for Daniel Scioli, blessed Nayib Bukele in his second term, interviewed Agustín Laje and was encouraged by Jorge Lanata to take the big leap. Today he is surrounded by unionists, libertarian leaders and operators of various spaces. Their posters have already appeared near the congress. Conspiracy theories are proliferating: for some it is a move by the government, for others by the opposition, for others by external powers. He even received criticism from evangelical pastors.
Dante Gebel says he has nothing defined for now and there is no reason not to believe him. He assures that his future will be decided by God. But something has already happened: he has stopped being just a shepherd or a showman. He established himself in public conversation as a figure who could articulate religion, media, networks and politics. In today’s Argentina, this crossing is no longer cultural or spiritual. It is clearly a power phenomenon.
A biography that supports the story
The Dante Gebel case cannot be read outside of a broader phenomenon. In Argentina, the number of evangelicals has more than doubled since 2008 and now makes up almost 20% of the population. For the first time, this universe has an organized presence in Congress: two pastors in the Senate and seven representatives, all within the ruling party.
His biography supports the story. It all started with a miracle. In 1975, when he was seven years old, diagnosed with Asperger’s, his mother had terminal cancer and his father was an alcoholic, he walked into a church in Del Viso for the first time. According to his own statement, his mother was healed. Since then he has not left religion and, in his experience, has found a language in Pentecostalism – the evangelical branch that believes in signs, healings and miracles. His brother Diego also became a priest, but in a different way: he worked with gays, transvestites, prostitutes and in nightclubs. He died in 2010.
That same year, Dante wrote an angry letter against equal marriage, which he called an “aberration,” a position he takes along with his opposition to the legalization of abortion. For some, that makes him a staunch conservative. But for others it is quite the opposite: their rise came through breaking all molds.