If you gathered a line of soldiers who fought in World War II—mud still on their boots, shrapnel still in their flesh—and showed them this week’s headlines, I think most of them would be stunned. Maybe heartbroken. Maybe furious. Probably all three. A group of Democratic senators made a video explaining what should be a basic, uncontroversial truth: members of the military are not obligated to follow illegal orders. In fact, they’re duty-bound to refuse them.
That’s not fringe. That’s not radical. That’s the law. That’s the moral code the United States supposedly stood for when we tried Nazis at Nuremberg. “Just following orders” is not a defense when those orders are criminal. And yet—here we are.
The moment the video dropped, the right-wing outrage machine kicked into high gear. Screams of sedition. Legal threats. Death threats. The President—who recently mused about using the military against civilians—essentially accused the senators of treason. Because they reminded soldiers not to become war criminals.
Let that sink in.
This isn’t even about politics anymore. It’s about the moral center of a country spiraling into authoritarian delirium, where the very idea of legal and moral restraint is treated like betrayal.
What kind of country does this?
One that no longer understands itself.
Growing up, I believed America was flawed—but fundamentally good. That we intervened when bullies rose. That we stood up for the powerless. That we tried—however imperfectly—to be on the right side of history. It wasn’t true, not always. History complicates mythology. But the myth mattered.
The idea that we were a place where law, conscience, and character could restrain power—that mattered. It’s that idea I grieve now. Because the people raging against this video don’t believe in any of those things. They believe in obedience. They believe in raw power. And they believe that questioning authority is weakness—unless they’re the ones doing it.
That isn’t patriotism. It’s fascism in a trucker hat.
If you showed that WWII soldier today’s news, how would he respond?
He’d remember standing in freezing mud in Belgium, wondering if his buddies would make it through the night. He’d remember the images from Dachau and Buchenwald. He’d remember why they fought. He’d say: “We didn’t risk our lives just so some future tyrant could hijack the flag and use the army as his personal weapon.” He’d recognize what’s happening for what it is. And then I think he’d ask what happened to the rest of us.
I don’t write this because I’m surprised. I’m not. I’ve lived long enough to see what this country is willing to normalize. But there’s a difference between not being surprised and not being moved. Because I remember when I used to feel proud of this place. I remember believing that we had a line we wouldn’t cross. I don’t believe that anymore. And I don’t say that lightly. I say it with a weight in my chest and a quiet, persistent shame.
We’ve allowed authoritarianism to wrap itself in patriotism. We’ve allowed fascist rhetoric to masquerade as “law and order.” We’ve allowed people who would have failed the most basic test of Nuremberg to act like they’re the real defenders of freedom. And far too many of us just… go along.
This isn’t a call to arms. This isn’t a policy argument. This is grief. Because if your instinct, when someone says “don’t follow illegal orders,” is to threaten them with violence, then you’re not protecting the country—you’re preparing to betray it. And if your response to that betrayal is silence, then you’re complicit in letting it happen.
We need to start naming things clearly again.
This isn’t patriotism.
This isn’t free speech.
This isn’t law and order.
This is authoritarianism.
This is a slow, stupid, dangerous march into something the people who fought real fascists would have recognized in a second.
And if you’re not ashamed yet, you should be.