America’s founders risked the gallows. What are we risking?



America is only months away from celebrating its quarter-millennial birthday — officially billed as “America 250” and even, in some quarters, a “Super Centennial.” But will America make it another 50 years, all the way to its tricentennial? Even as President Trump wages an existential conflict abroad, another one rages at home.

Without question, the country has lived a long and remarkable life. But the world also knows it has not been free of grave danger. Go back 165 years to the Civil War, and you’ll find proof that the American experiment can wobble — and nearly break.

‘We must all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.’

Even at the nation’s birth, the outcome was not guaranteed. The men who signed their names to independence did so knowing that the newborn republic could be stillborn. In the eyes of King George III, they were committing treason.

That fragility hit me again recently on one of my many walks through Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in my neighborhood of Sleepy Hollow, New York. Sleepy Hollow is the final resting place of captains of industry — families such as the Rockefellers and Carnegies — as well as Washington Irving, America’s first internationally recognized literary giant.

Inside the cemetery’s borders stand monuments commemorating the dead of both the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. They are stark reminders of how fragile a nation’s life can be.

The words carved on the Revolutionary monument still land with force.

Photo by Albin Sadar

1776 — 1783
In Memory
of the
OFFICERS and SOLDIERS
of the
REVOLUTION
who by their valor
sustained the cause of liberty
and independence
on these historic fields.

While we honor the dead, we should remember the courage of the living — including those too old to take up arms themselves. When Benjamin Franklin signed the Declaration of Independence, an act of treason in the eyes of the Crown, he is said to have offered a grim assessment: “We must all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.”

That line came rushing back when Susan Rice laid out what amounts to a warning shot about the next round of political retribution. On a recent podcast, Rice promised a reckoning for those who “take a knee to Trump,” and she made clear that Democrats, once back in power, will not "play by the old rules.”

Her message was simple: Align yourself with Trump — or with the tens of millions who support him — and your time “is not going to end well.”

For anyone who watched what happened to people swept up in the post-Jan. 6 dragnet, the implication is not subtle. The left’s appetite for lawfare is real. And it rarely stops with the obvious actors. It metastasizes. It broadens. It looks for new targets.

So what can derail the Democrats’ destructive engine?

The answer may be hiding in Franklin’s line: Hang together.

RELATED: America at 250

Al Drago/Bloomberg via Getty Images

President Trump has made two standards central to national survival: secure borders and honest elections. The border is more secure than it has been in years. But Congress still hasn’t delivered the SAVE America Act — and that failure matters.

Within months of July 4, 2026, Americans will again head to the polls. The choices will be stark, and Democrats will not be shy about what they want: revenge, institutional capture, and a reset of the country on their terms.

Two things now matter, and they are not complicated. First, patriots must keep pressure on elected officials to pass the SAVE America Act. Second, they must show up and vote in overwhelming numbers this November. Nobody gets to sit this one out.

That’s how Republicans keep their majorities. That’s how Trump’s agenda survives. And that’s how the country avoids another round of “fundamental transformation” — imposed by people who have already told you they plan to discard the old restraints.

Editor’s note: A version of this article appeared originally at American Thinker.

Mullin inherits a mess at DHS. Here’s how he can still save Trump’s legacy.



A few weeks ago, I wrote: “Everyone in America has an opinion on what has gone right or wrong at the Department of Homeland Security and its component agencies, particularly Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Customs and Border Protection.” I added — a little too coyly — that I had “a pretty good sense of what happened.”

That restraint served a purpose at the time. It also left too much unsaid.

The mass deportation agenda remains central to Trump’s legacy. Markwayne Mullin has a chance to deliver what the last year only promised. We’re counting on him.

Now that President Trump has removed Kristi Noem as Homeland Security secretary and nominated Senator Markwayne Mullin (R-Okla.) to replace her, it’s worth putting real detail behind the diagnosis. Not to salt the wound, but to fix what needs fixing. Trump’s signature promise — “the largest deportation operation in American history” — matters too much for anyone to pretend the last year went smoothly.

Start with the numbers. They’re too low to fulfill the promise.

ICE stopped releasing deportation data. The congressionally mandated annual report still hasn’t arrived. In the vacuum, we’ve been left with third-party estimates — the New York Times put removals at about 230,000 in 2025 — and with shifting DHS press-shop claims that bounce between hundreds of thousands and “millions.” The Times figure sits closer to reality than the chest-thumping.

Instead of mass deportations, we got mass communications.

The department’s strategy leaned heavily on television ads, memes, charged language, and inflated-sounding claims meant to create the impression that deportations were happening at historic scale. The result landed in the worst possible place: It antagonized the left and the media without delivering results big enough to justify the noise. I don’t lose sleep over angry leftists. I do care when the administration absorbs political heat without gaining operational ground.

Trump World isn’t immune to polling, media narratives, and the feedback loop they create. A loud rollout without the matching numbers gave activists, consultants, and industry a pretext to flood weak-kneed Republican offices on Capitol Hill. Those calls turned into pressure on the administration. The incentive became delay, and delay followed.

Then came the optics problem.

Turning the DHS secretary role into a traveling cosplay routine didn’t land, and it didn’t project command. Instead, it projected awkwardness — and in a department built for seriousness, that matters.

The larger issue was always fit. Excitement around Trump’s cabinet picks made people charitable, and that’s understandable. The president earned that deference. But putting Noem in charge of DHS — the department most central to the core thesis of Trump’s campaign — never quite made sense. People in the enforcement world tried to build working relationships. Many got brushed off. Meanwhile, operational leaders inside DHS did what Noem didn’t: They cultivated the advocates who could help the mission move.

RELATED: ‘Phase one’ was quality control. ‘Phase two’ needs to be quantity control.

Photo by Jacek Boczarski/Anadolu via Getty Images

The divide became public. Post-Minneapolis, Tom Homan’s profile rose quickly as Trump tapped him to manage the response. Inside DHS, the camps had already formed. Anyone in Washington with a foot in the enforcement world knew who was on “Team Kristi and Corey [Lewandowski]” and who wasn’t. Leaks followed. Finger-pointing followed. Journalists got fed a steady diet of dysfunction. Morale dropped as firings and reassignments became the department’s background music.

What drove most of the internal warfare was money — specifically, contracts — and the scramble to control tens of billions authorized through the One Big Beautiful Bill.

DHS adopted a policy requiring Noem personally to review and sign off on contracts over $100,000. Combined with stripping authority from agency heads, that amounted to centralized control in the secretary’s office.

In practice, the authority filtered through a small circle and ran through Corey Lewandowski in a “special government employee” capacity. The backlog became delay, and the delays hit the mission: Border wall contracts sat for months while steel prices rose. Detention capacity grew slowly because leadership chased flashy, low-capacity facilities with catchy names — Cornhusker Clink, Speedway Slammer, Louisiana Lockup — announced with social media fanfare but built at higher cost, higher litigation risk, and lower throughput than traditional providers.

It looked like a communications strategy pretending to be a detention strategy.

Personnel choices compounded the problem. Noem brought in people with little operational or policy experience in immigration enforcement. Her decision to install a late-20s former Wildlife and Fisheries official as deputy ICE director raised eyebrows. Outside the formal chain of command, an equally inexperienced cast appeared in spaces normally reserved for officials who have spent years in homeland security. Over time, allegations of self-dealing spread — and the pattern made it harder to dismiss them as rumor.

The best example was the $220 million ad campaign that prominently featured Noem. Reports of unusual processes and favored vendors circulated. When lawmakers — Republicans and Democrats — pressed for answers, Noem did little to restore confidence. Given the broader self-promotion pattern, any benefit of the doubt evaporated.

Then came the hearings. They were brutal.

RELATED: Memo to Trump: Stop negotiating and ramp up deportations

Photo by Sean Bascom/Anadolu via Getty Images

Before both the House and the Senate, Noem failed to convince members that she could lead the department, and she struggled to answer accusations of scandal and self-dealing. But the fatal error came when she violated the one rule for any Cabinet witness: Don’t drag the president into your mess.

Under questioning from Sen. John Kennedy about the ad campaign, Noem told him the president personally approved the spending. Kennedy looked stunned. Trump later denied it — and the claim never made much sense in the first place. That answer ended whatever internal support remained. In the middle of a sudden war, it still managed to blow up the news cycle. With few defenders inside the building or outside it, the wagons never circled.

So what now?

Markwayne Mullin has a massive job ahead of him. He inherits some real wins — especially the restored control of the southern border — but he also inherits a department bruised by internal warfare, low output numbers, and credibility damage.

A few suggestions, offered plainly:

First, “commas, not drama.” Let the mission speak louder than the messaging. Raise the deportation numbers. If the numbers move, everything else gets easier.

Second, cauterize the past. If Mullin doesn’t create distance from what happened before, he’ll spend the next year answering for it — including under subpoena if Democrats take the House.

Third, build a firewall through oversight. Let Trump-appointed Inspector General Joseph Cuffari review the controversies. Put the facts on paper, separate the department from the personalities, and move forward. Mullin needs the ability to say, credibly, that he’s fixing the mission, not protecting a mess he didn’t create.

Fourth, trust the serious people already inside DHS. The department has highly capable operators. Back them. Empower them. Leadership requires followers, and followers don’t materialize through threats, leaks, and infighting.

The mass deportation agenda remains central to Trump’s legacy. Mullin has a chance to deliver what the last year only promised.

We’re counting on him.

Robust Homeland Security Must Be Funded, Not Shut Down

Americans deserve a DHS strengthened by recent resource increases, and as agile and effective as possible in carrying out its core mission.

Trump’s Pro-America Vision Will Only Succeed If He Pushes Republicans To Implement It

President Trump painted an uplifting, “America First” vision for the country during his State of the Union address on Tuesday. Filled with recognitions of American patriotism and savvy political moves, the president pledged that America’s future “will be bigger, better, brighter, bolder, and more glorious than ever before.” While Trump’s address was certainly as pro-America […]

The State of the Union is Trump’s chance to reset deportations



At the Munich Security Conference earlier this month, Secretary of State Marco Rubio didn’t mince words. He told European leaders that mass migration is not, was not, and will not become “some fringe concern of little consequence.” It was and remains a crisis that is transforming and destabilizing societies across the West.

Rubio also made the point that should be obvious but too often goes unsaid: Controlling who enters a country — and how many people enter it — is not xenophobia. It is not hatred. It is a basic act of national sovereignty. Failing to do it is not merely a policy mistake. It is an abdication of one of government’s first duties to its own people and an urgent threat to social order and civilizational stability.

We need to confront sanctuary employers, sanctuary farms, and sanctuary factories.

That is bold. It is also correct.

Yet special interests continue to pressure President Trump to abandon his promise to “carry out the largest deportation operation in American history” into a much smaller project focused only on “the worst of the worst.”

Violent criminal illegal aliens must be removed, and the administration was right to begin there. Public safety comes first.

But that was always the opener. It was never the endgame.

The American people did not vote for President Trump because he promised a narrow immigration enforcement strategy. They voted for the restoration of the rule of law. They voted for what the president himself promised: to deport the illegal aliens Joe Biden unlawfully allowed to enter the United States.

The mas -deportation coalition, of which I am a proud member, exists to help the president accomplish that goal.

Two hundred thousand or even 300,000 interior removals per year may sound significant. Put it beside an illegal population that could approach 20 million, however, and the number shrinks fast. At the current pace, the math does not get you to the largest deportation operation in American history over four years.

President Trump needs help keeping his promise, and he needs a strategy calibrated to the scale of the problem.

RELATED: ‘Phase one’ was quality control. ‘Phase two’ needs to be quantity control.

Photo by John Moore/Getty Images

When President Eisenhower enforced immigration law in the 1950s, he did not limit enforcement to select criminal categories. The message was clear: Unlawful presence would not be tolerated. That clarity changed behavior. People left because they knew they had broken the law and would face consequences if they stayed.

That is the kind of clarity we need now.

It means expanding worksite enforcement, not merely fighting over sanctuary cities. We need to confront sanctuary employers, sanctuary farms, and sanctuary factories.

It means taking on industries that rely on and exploit illegal labor at the expense of American workers and their families. It means making clear that unlawful presence in the United States carries consequences — not selectively imposed, but consistently and uniformly applied.

As someone who led ICE and CBP under President Trump in his first term, I can say this with confidence: The machinery and capability exist to achieve 1 million interior removals by the end of 2026.

The real question is political will.

Opponents of the president’s campaign promise are trying to box him into a narrower and narrower enforcement lane. Special interests, campaign consultants, and media talking heads want enforcement to stall — and then to end in amnesty.

If enforcement remains confined to this narrow lane and eventually grinds to a halt, amnesty will come next.

RELATED: Two ‘I’ agencies, one Democratic double standard

Photo by Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images

The State of the Union is the president’s golden opportunity to make clear to supporters, detractors, and, above all, the American people that he intends to fulfill the promise he made on the campaign trail.

It is time to move to phase two: enforcement at scale, without fear or favor.

That may sound bold to some. I know firsthand that it can be done — and must be done.

The American people returned President Trump to the White House after he made that promise. They will reward him with a historic legacy if he keeps it.

The Fifth Circuit cracks down on the asylum excuse factory



For nearly three decades, Washington has insisted that America’s immigration chaos stems from outdated laws, insufficient authority, or humanitarian necessity.

Last week, the Fifth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals shattered that narrative.

For the first time in decades, a federal court treated immigration law as law, not a suggestion.

In Buenrostro-Mendez v. Bondi, a divided panel did something radical by modern standards: It enforced immigration law as Congress wrote it. The result ranks as one of the most consequential immigration rulings in a generation — and a direct rebuke to the legal fiction that has shielded millions of illegal aliens from mandatory detention for decades.

What the court actually said

The case turned on a simple question with enormous consequences: Do illegal aliens who entered the United States unlawfully — often years ago, without inspection or lawful admission — get discretionary bond hearings while in removal proceedings?

The Fifth Circuit answered no.

Writing for the majority, Judge Edith H. Jones, joined by Judge Stuart Kyle Duncan, held that any alien present in the United States who has not been lawfully admitted is, by statute, an “applicant for admission.” Congress supplied that definition in 1996.

Under the law, applicants for admission who cannot show they are “clearly and beyond a doubt entitled to be admitted” shall be detained pending removal proceedings.

“Shall” means mandatory. It leaves no room for discretionary bond hearings. It applies regardless of how long the alien has remained unlawfully in the country.

Physical presence does not confer the legal status or constitutional entitlements that accompany lawful admission, much less citizenship.

This ruling rejects the long-standing practice of treating interior illegal aliens as governed by the bond statute. As the Fifth Circuit panel made clear, that statute applies after lawful admission. It does not override Congress’ command for those who were never admitted at all.

No other federal appellate court has squarely held that mandatory detention applies not only to recent border crossers but also to long-term illegal aliens living in the interior who entered without inspection years — even decades — ago.

Long-delayed enforcement

Nothing in the Fifth Circuit’s decision turns on novel statutory interpretation. Congress enacted this framework in 1996 to eliminate incentives for evading inspection and remaining unlawfully in the United States.

What changed was not the law but the willingness to enforce it.

After the Board of Immigration Appeals acknowledged the plain meaning of the disputed section in Matter of Yajure Hurtado, DHS implemented a policy treating illegal entrants as Congress defined them: applicants for admission subject to mandatory detention.

The response was immediate and predictable. District courts across the country rushed to block the policy, issuing a wave of rulings restoring bond eligibility.

The Fifth Circuit is the first appellate court to say what should have been obvious all along: Courts do not get to rewrite immigration statutes because enforcement is politically uncomfortable.

RELATED: We escaped King George. Why do we bow to King Judge?

Photo by Pierce Archive LLC/Buyenlarge via Getty Images

Asylum is not a loophole

One of the most persistent myths in immigration discourse claims that filing for asylum legalizes illegal entry. It does not.

Congress made illegal entry a federal misdemeanor. The statute contains no asylum exception. Illegal entry remains a crime even for those who later request asylum.

Asylum also does not create a “right to remain.” It is discretionary relief from removal.

Federal law allows an alien to apply for asylum after illegal entry. That provision does not cure inadmissibility, erase criminal violations, or entitle the applicant to release from custody.

When an alien crosses the border illegally — between ports of entry — the alien violates federal law and becomes inadmissible for lack of valid entry documents. That inadmissibility triggers expedited removal.

The law allows an alien to request asylum after unlawful entry, but it does not legalize the entry, erase inadmissibility, or prevent removal. In this posture, asylum is defensive. The alien raises it after DHS initiates removal proceedings, and the alien receives it, if at all, as discretionary relief — not as a right to remain.

Aliens who enter without valid documents remain inadmissible and subject to detention or removal.

Mandatory detention applies to many asylum seekers. Under the statute:

  • Illegal entrants go into expedited removal unless they establish a credible fear.
  • When an alien claims credible fear, the alien remains detained pending final adjudication.
  • Release runs through limited DHS parole authority, not judicial bond hearings.

The Supreme Court confirmed this framework in Jennings v. Rodriguez (2018), holding that the statute mandates detention and does not allow courts to invent bond hearings where Congress declined to authorize them.

Law on the books vs. law in practice

The detention statute does not suffer from ambiguity. The conflict lies elsewhere.

Congress criminalized unlawful entry without exception. Congress also enacted the asylum provision through the Refugee Act of 1980, permitting any alien “physically present” in the United States or arriving at the border to apply for asylum regardless of manner of entry. That provision does not exempt such individuals from prosecution, detention, or removal. It does not repeal the detention mandate.

The Refugee Act incorporated aspects of the U.N. Refugee Convention and Protocol, including Article 31’s discouragement of “penalization” for unlawful entry in limited circumstances. Article 31 does not prohibit detention, prosecution, or removal. It confers no right to unlawful entry or release pending adjudication. Nothing in the treaty framework — or U.S. law — displaces Congress’ mandatory detention commands.

RELATED: Federalism cannot be a shield for sanctuary defiance

Photo by John Moore/Getty Images

Over time, however, executive agencies — and sometimes courts — expanded a limited non-penalization principle into a broader immunity regime. Officials treated asylum eligibility as a basis to avoid detention, delay removal, and suspend enforcement mandates Congress never repealed.

That is not discretion. It is dereliction. It nullifies the statute Congress enacted.

Until Congress revisits asylum law or alters treaty commitments, that structural tension will invite exploitation — regardless of what the detention statute requires.

Why this ruling matters

By enforcing the law as written, the Fifth Circuit restored a foundational principle of sovereignty: Illegal entry does not generate superior legal rights.

The dissent warns that enforcing the statute could produce large-scale detention. That warning is not a legal argument. It is a policy objection rooted in disagreement with the statute Congress enacted.

This ruling binds only Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi — for now. Other circuits have signaled resistance. A split is coming. Supreme Court review seems likely.

When that moment arrives, the court will face a question it has avoided for years: Does immigration law mean what it says — or only what politics permits?

The Fifth Circuit has answered.

For the first time in decades, a federal court treated immigration law as law, not a suggestion.

Preparedness isn’t paranoia. It’s pattern recognition.



A certain smug comfort belongs to people who have never stood between a riot line and a camera, never smelled accelerant on the wind, never watched their phones lose signal while fire chewed through an entire neighborhood. They talk about “heated rhetoric” and “charged atmospheres” as if danger were theoretical. For women reporters on the ground, it isn’t.

The front line is not a metaphor. It is a place. And it is getting more dangerous by the year.

This is not a gadget story. It is a survival story.

I have covered Antifa riots where the mob knew my name before I reached the sidewalk. I have been screamed at, followed, and threatened by people who publicly denounce violence while privately practicing it. I have watched law enforcement stand down under progressive policies that place the comfort of agitators above the safety of citizens. And I have learned, the hard way, that when cities become unlivable, women pay first.

The left loves to talk about “lived experience.” Here is mine: Democrat governance has made America’s major cities objectively less safe, and being a female independent journalist in them now requires the mindset of a survivalist.

That became brutally clear during the Los Angeles wildfires of 2025.

I was there when the sky turned orange and evacuation orders contradicted one another. Cell towers failed. Emergency lines were overwhelmed. Friends and family lost homes — not hypothetically, not statistically, but completely. In that chaos, the only reason I was able to coordinate help, locate people, and call for assistance was a satellite phone. While 911 systems collapsed, that device worked. No signal dependency. No excuses.

That is not a gadget story. It is a survival story.

The same lesson repeats itself elsewhere. In Washington, D.C., shootings now occur in places that once felt immune — near offices, events, and corridors of power. I was at Butler. I have been steps away from moments that could have gone very differently. Anyone insisting that “these things don’t happen here” is either lying or sheltered by privilege.

When whistleblowers reach out to me, they do not do it over casual cell calls. They use secure satellite communications, because they understand something our leaders prefer not to acknowledge: privacy is safety. Satellite phones are resistant to interception, independent of fragile infrastructure, and immune to spam and shutdowns. When people have something dangerous to say, they choose tools that help keep them alive.

This is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition.

People have died hiking because there was no signal. Boaters have vanished because help could not be reached. Hurricanes do not care about ideology. Fires do not check voter registration. Yet one party consistently opposes disaster preparedness, energy independence, and resilient infrastructure — while demanding blind trust in systems that fail precisely when they are needed most.

Preparedness is not extremism. It is common sense.

Redundancy in communication is not political. Neither are solar-powered backups or hardened devices. Nor is concern about electromagnetic vulnerabilities when our lives run through centralized, fragile networks. Thinking ahead does not make you radical. It makes you female in a country that keeps telling women to be brave while stripping away the tools that make bravery survivable.

And yes, it matters who builds those tools.

If I am calling for help, I want American customer service — American voices, American-owned companies. Safety should not come with a foreign accent and a hold button. Trust is part of security.

This is why satellite phones, solar chargers, emergency kits, and hardened cases are no longer niche products. They are rational responses to an increasingly unstable political and physical environment. They are also meaningful gifts — because nothing says you care like giving someone a way to come home alive.

RELATED: A nation without trust is a nation on borrowed time

Photo by Jay L Clendenin/Getty Images

Which brings us to 2026.

Around President Trump, TPUSA events, or Republican members of Congress, the threat environment is asymmetric. The left has normalized political violence while denying it exists. Media figures excuse it. Politicians minimize it. Prosecutors decline to prosecute it. And women journalists who refuse to conform are expected to absorb the consequences quietly.

I won’t.

The question voters should ask heading into the midterms is not which party sounds kinder on cable news. It is which party acknowledges reality — and equips Americans, especially women, to survive it.

One side treats chaos as a political tool. The other treats safety as the foundation of freedom.

I know which one kept me connected when the fires closed in. I know which one refuses to pretend riots are “mostly peaceful.” And I know which one understands that strong borders, strong policing, resilient infrastructure, and personal preparedness are not luxuries in dangerous times.

The front line is expanding. It runs through our cities, our forests, our streets, and our inboxes. Women are already on it — whether policymakers realize it or not.

The only question left is whether America will choose leaders who take our safety seriously or continue sacrificing us to ideology.

Because the danger is real. And pretending otherwise is the most reckless policy of all.