Between the Lines

The bald eagle—once carved in granite, fierce and free—was chosen as America’s emblem for its strength, courage, and soaring vision. It held arrows and olive branches, symbolizing the balance of power and peace.

History does not repeat itself, but it often hums a familiar tune.

And in America today, the melody is unmistakable.
When cruelty is celebrated, ignorance rewarded, and integrity discarded, a civilization begins to decay from within. We have seen this arc before. It doesn’t begin with war. It begins with applause for the vulgar, mockery of the wise, and the quiet exile of the decent. That is where America finds itself.

Many still debate how Donald Trump rose to power—was it the failure of the Democrats, the manipulation of social media, the weakness of institutions? I would argue something simpler: Trump was not a cause. He was a mirror.

He didn’t lead the public into darkness. He stepped into a room that had already gone dim.

Millions were already eager to trade decency for domination, truth for tribalism, leadership for performance. He merely gave them permission.
But the deeper tragedy isn’t him—it’s the state of moral numbness that made him acceptable. A nation where lies no longer shock, cruelty is seen as strength, and facts are treated as optional is not in decline. It is already in a period of decadence.
History offers warnings.

In late Rome, the republic gave way to empire because the people preferred bread and circuses to justice and truth. Skilled generals became emperors. Competent senators were sidelined or slaughtered. Spectacle replaced substance.

In Weimar Germany, humiliation and instability led to the embrace of a populist who promised greatness through purification. He offered grievance, not governance—and the people cheered.

In 20th-century America, McCarthyism, segregation, and Vietnam all tested democracy—but back then, there was still a functioning immune system. Civic engagement, a free press, and a sense of moral shame brought course corrections.

Today, we have to ask: Has that immune system collapsed?

What happens when the best minds no longer participate in public life—not because they’re silenced by violence, but because they’re drowned in noise? What happens when politicians are rewarded for dishonesty, cruelty, and spectacle?

You know what happens. So do I. So does history.
The best are tossed aside, and in their place rise the reckless and the ruthless.

And yet—history also tells us that nothing is inevitable.

There are always those who stand against the tide. Quiet voices that refuse to be broken. Generations that wake up and say: not in our name, not any longer.
The arc can bend—but not without effort, not without courage, not without pain.
The question now is no longer what is happening to America?

The question is who will remain standing when this storm passes—and what will they rebuild from the wreckage?

Today, that eagle flutters as a paper kite—fragile, weightless, and drifting wherever the political wind blows.