When Will We Stop The Erosion of Our Democracy

When will we stop this cancer eating away at our national institutions and at the moral order by which we choose to live? What we are witnessing is not a series of isolated excesses. It is a sustained campaign. The Trump administration has repeatedly violated the law, attacked the independence of long-standing institutions, and sought to criminalize conduct that has no rightful place in the criminal code. The sheer volume and brazenness of these actions are so startling that they threaten to numb us into passivity. We see it in the extrajudicial seizure of Venezuela’s strongman, Nicolás Maduro, and in the unvarnished declaration that America’s interest there is oil and control—an unmistakable return to the logic of gunboat diplomacy. We see it in the assault on the Federal Reserve, capped by reckless and unfounded accusations against Jerome Powell. We see it in ICE parading through our streets, wielding fear and, in some cases, leaving death in its wake. We hear it in threats to take Greenland “one way or the other.” We see it in a feckless posture toward Russia amid the ongoing slaughter in Ukraine, and in a craven unwillingness to confront Netanyahu’s government in Israel. The pattern is unmistakable. The beat goes on. Congress has failed to meet this moment. Republicans in Congress, in particular, have abdicated their constitutional responsibility to assert the power of the purse and to ensure that appropriated funds are spent as the Constitution requires. The courts—especially the lower courts—have repeatedly ruled against these abuses. And still the administration presses forward, daring the system to stop it. This is not new in world history. We have seen before what happens when nations slide into the doctrine that “might makes right.” and a majority of the people put their faith in a proclaimed savior to right their grievances. We saw this in Japan and in Nazi Germany under Hitler, and in Fascist Italy under Mussolini. They taught the world that lesson in the 1930s and early 1940s, at an unspeakable cost. After World War II, chastened by catastrophe, we committed ourselves to a different path—building institutions to restrain power and preserve peace: the Marshall Plan, the European Common Market, and the architecture of a rules-based international order. But we grew complacent. We assumed these achievements were permanent. We enjoyed their benefits and mistook hope for vigilance. We failed to reckon honestly with the darker instincts that persist in people and nations alike—the urge to seize land, to dominate, to accumulate power simply because it can be taken. That time of complacency is over. Those of us who consider ourselves moderates can no longer content ourselves with watching events unfold from the sidelines. I applaud the citizens who have taken to the streets to protest ICE. I applaud Jerome Powell for stating clearly that he and the Federal Reserve will not be intimidated. I hope—and expect—that leaders of our cultural institutions, including Presidents of Universities and Lonnie Bunch of the Smithsonian, will say the same. I applaud arts organizations that have withdrawn from the Kennedy Center rather than allow their names to legitimize a cynical and politicized rebranding. There comes a moment when anger is not only justified but necessary. This is that moment. There is a time to speak plainly, without euphemism or apology. That time is now. What is happening cannot stand. Enough is enough. We have had enough. I hope and pray that not only our leaders, but men and women in every walk of life, recognize this for what it is: a direct threat to our democracy and to the way of life we have long cherished and pledged ourselves to defend. The time for detached intellectual rumination has passed. This is the moment for action—thoughtful, yes, but also relentless, courageous, and sustained. There is no other recourse.