Hamas floods the feeds to sway clueless Westerners



As President Donald Trump toured Israel and the region celebrating his newly brokered Gaza ceasefire agreement last month, several Israeli families received unexpected video calls from their loved ones still held captive in Gaza.

After more than two years without information, many suddenly found themselves staring at the faces they feared they might never see again. “I love you! I can’t wait to see you already!” cried one shocked mother.

In a post-truth environment, Hamas has learned how to set the terms of debate, frame Israeli actions, and pressure global institutions.

Behind each hostage stood a Hamas militant in a green headband and full face covering. Before release, the militant gave a command in broken Hebrew: “Post this on social media. Put this in the news.”

It was a scene both surreal and deliberate. For Hamas, the call was not simply a gesture ahead of a ceasefire. It was the final stroke in a propaganda campaign the group has refined into a core battlefield strategy.

Across the war, Hamas moved far beyond the low-tech, grainy videos of earlier terror groups, like al-Qaeda 25 years ago. Borrowing lessons from Russia, China, Iran, and ISIS, it adopted a multi-platform media operation built on drone footage, high-definition body cameras, Telegram networks, curated databases, and a constellation of Instagram influencers.

The goal was simple: Demoralize Israelis, energize supporters, and sway public opinion abroad — especially in the United States and Europe, where diplomatic pressure could yield concessions no battlefield victory could deliver.

Instagram combatants

Influencers became frontline assets. Saleh Aljafarawi, a 27-year-old Instagram personality, chronicled rubble tours and took selfie videos with children and activists, overlaying them with music to evoke sympathy. His content racked up millions of views.

Motaz Azaiza, another influencer, surged to more than 16 million Instagram followers while documenting scenes on the ground and conducting street interviews. A graphic video credited to him — viewed more than 100 million times and widely disputed — showed what appeared to be bleeding toddlers pulled from wreckage.

Hamas-aligned Telegram channels such as Gaza Now and Al Aqsa TV amplified their posts around the clock. Western media outlets often ran these images uncritically, including allegedly starving children later shown to have congenital conditions unrelated to the conflict.

But the visual blitz was only one part of the strategy. Hamas understood that controlling the premises of the debate mattered as much as controlling the images. That is why organizations such as the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs relied heavily on casualty numbers supplied by the Hamas-run Gaza Ministry of Health. Those tallies — widely framed as disproportionately civilian — drove international diplomatic pressure on Israel and fueled student protests across American campuses.

‘Broadcast the images’

A recently declassified memo from Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar revealed the strategic logic behind the group’s media doctrine. Mixed among military instructions were orders to create “heart-breaking scenes of shocking devastation,” including directives for “stepping on soldiers’ heads” and “slaughtering people by knife.” Body-camera footage from the Oct. 7 massacre reflected that intent.

To execute the strategy, Sinwar empowered a spokesman known as Abu Obaidah, who was killed in an Israel Defense Forces strike last year. Under his direction, Hamas expanded its propaganda arm from roughly 400 operatives during the 2014 conflict to more than 1,500. Every battalion and brigade gained its own deputy commander for propaganda, each trained in field filming, livestreaming, and rapid editing inside decentralized “war rooms.”

One category of production featured Israeli hostages forced to deliver scripted messages from tunnel captivity, urging Israelis to protest their government. These videos were released with trilingual subtitles and high-end visual effects. They accelerated domestic pressure inside Israel to accept a deal on terms favorable to Hamas.

During the January 2025 exchange, Hamas choreographed the release events with precision. Operatives filmed every moment with high-definition lenses as hostages were paraded before Red Cross representatives and instructed to wave to crowds. Slogans appeared in Arabic, Hebrew, and English — some tailored to Israeli politics (“we are the day after”), others crafted for Western activists (“Palestine — the victory of the oppressed”).

Iran funds roughly $480 million annually in state propaganda efforts through its IRIB broadcaster. It is reasonable to assume Hamas directs a significant share of its estimated $2 billion budget into communications.

RELATED: The genocide that isn’t: How Hamas turned lies into global outrage

Photo by ZAIN JAAFAR/AFP via Getty Images

Perception shapes policy

The investment has paid off. A Quinnipiac poll found that half of Americans — and 77% of Democratic voters — believe Israel committed a “genocide” in Gaza. A Cygnal survey shows Israel at -21 net favorability among voters younger than 55. Younger Americans, who consume more social media, are almost three times more likely than older voters to view Hamas favorably.

Substance remains another story. A majority of Americans — 56% — oppose or remain ambivalent toward the two-state plan frequently cited by foreign governments and activist groups.

But perception is shaping policy. Hamas has become a dominant force in the narrative battle, feeding imagery, statistics, and talking points directly into Western media ecosystems. In a post-truth environment, the group has learned how to set the terms of debate, frame Israeli actions, and pressure global institutions.

Israel and its allies cannot afford to treat communications as an afterthought. Effective messaging is a force multiplier — not a cosmetic accessory. It frames the battlefield, shapes public opinion, and constrains diplomatic options.

The war showed that Hamas understands this. It is time its opponents understood it too.

The right must choose: Fight the real war, or cosplay revolution online



Is principled conservatism dead? And would that even be good?

Robert P. George’s resignation from the board of the Heritage Foundation last week suggests a deeper shift inside the conservative world. George is one of the most respected conservative intellectuals alive — a Princeton professor who built the James Madison Program and shaped a generation of natural-law scholarship. His departure, prompted by how Heritage President Kevin Roberts handled Tucker Carlson’s interview with Nick Fuentes, exposes a widening fracture on the right about what conservatism is and what it should defend.

The first lesson conservatives should recover: Reason and faith are not optional in the public square.

I have watched this tension escalate since what some have called Charlie Kirk’s “martyrdom.” Voices from what garden-variety conservatives call “the far right,” what liberals lump together as “the right,” and what Antifa brands “fascist” are pushing for influence inside the movement. Some insist these agitators are leftist plants sent to fracture the right. Others believe God allows the intentions of every heart to be revealed.

Whatever the explanation, the attacks now directed at George follow a predictable pattern: an “OK, Boomer” dismissal of a man who has spent his life defending the unborn, natural marriage, and the created order.

Full disclosure: When I was a graduate student studying natural law at Arizona State University, George took time to meet with me and guide my work. Later as a tenured professor, I became a fellow in the very program he founded. One of my own undergraduate professors — the great ethicist Jeffrie Murphy — said George’s work compelled him to rethink everything.

So-called far-right critics now claim George will debate and even co-author books with Cornel West, with his ties to Louis Farrakhan, but refuses to work with people “to his right.” The charge — absurd on its face — is that he is some kind of “controlled dissenter,” a token conservative tolerated by the Ivy League so long as he stays within its boundaries. From there, the speculation drifts into unfounded theories about motives and self-preservation.

George does not need me to defend him. His life’s work refutes these claims. He has never backed away from his convictions. He has never trimmed the truth to curry favor with elite institutions. He debates West because he believes reason still matters, because he believes truth can be argued in public, and because he believes even fierce disagreement does not require abandoning basic human dignity. He refuses to compromise an inch while treating his interlocutors as human beings.

That shouldn’t be so difficult to understand.

In fact, that’s the first lesson conservatives should recover: Reason and faith are not optional in the public square. They are the foundation for honest argument, and honest argument is the only way a free people can persuade and be persuaded. If we descend into conspiracy theorizing, rage, or tribal loyalty as our primary modes of engagement, we abandon the very tools that made conservatism coherent.

Here is George’s warning: Don’t become postmodernists. Don’t imitate the left’s racial essentialism or identity politics. Don’t throw out reason because some Enlightenment thinkers misused it. If you want to rethink every narrative you’ve heard, fine — do it with reason, not with the power-dialectic that dominates progressive thought.

But principles alone are not enough. Being principled does not mean being naïve. Conservatives once understood strategy and tactics — long-term goals paired with immediate steps that move us toward them. I believe the United States should acknowledge the kingship of Jesus Christ. Presidents from both parties once referred to America as a Christian nation. If that is true, then we must engage publicly, argue publicly, and fight publicly for that idea of ordered liberty.

That means getting into the trenches. It means refuting Marxism and atheism clearly and without apology. It means being innocent as doves and wise as serpents, fighting to win without surrendering either virtue.

RELATED: Tucker Carlson, Nick Fuentes, and the war for the conservative soul

Photo by Zach D Roberts/NurPhoto via Getty Images

What we cannot become is principled losers. The enemy welcomes our gentlemanly retreats. The progressive movement wants more than policy wins; it wants to redefine the human person, the family, and the moral order itself. A party that endorses abortion at any point, supports the mutilation of healthy children, and treats scripture as hate speech leaves no moral ambiguity about which side a Christian or natural-law conservative should support.

Read George’s arguments against liberalism. Read his defense of natural law. If you disagree with him, he will debate you — he always has. But you can learn from him that a revival of natural law and natural theology is essential right now. That requires teaching the truths in Romans 1 and learning from Acts how to speak across cultures and ideologies.

We are in a spiritual war. The weapons are spiritual, but the fight is real. The stakes are real. The consequences are real.

It is far better to be fighting through the mud of Mordor than fat, complacent, and conquered in the Shire.

When fathers fall, grace asks more of us



Families gather for all sorts of reasons — Thanksgiving, Christmas, weddings, funerals. And sometimes that’s when the fireworks start. There’s an old joke that any family gathering where the cops aren’t called is a successful one. Beneath the laughter sits a truth most families know. When people with long memories sit at the same table, old hurts rise right alongside the cranberry sauce.

Sin fractured families long before politics did. It divides hearts, poisons conversations, and leaves scars that last for generations. Every family bears some of that damage, and nowhere does the fracture cut deeper than between fathers and children.

Every father fails in some way, and those failures bring deep sadness. Grief isn’t a sin. Derision and resentment are.

A caller once told me about his alcoholic father, who had been abusive for years. The caller was 52, yet when he talked about being around his father, his voice broke. “Every time I’m around him,” he said, “I feel like I’m 9 years old.” The man’s father had fallen and now needed care, but the wounds had not healed. His wife and children were watching, waiting to see what he would do. His father was still drinking, still choosing the same path.

I told him, “You’ve made sure your father has food and care, but you’re not required to be subservient. Your family counts on you. Your father continues to make destructive choices, and you can’t change that. Your family’s well-being cannot come at the expense of his demands. He may not make it — but you have to.”

That conversation stayed with me. It reminded me how hard it is to see a parent’s weakness and not respond in anger or disgust or fear. We want to fix it, mock it, punish it, or walk away. Yet scripture gives us a different picture of what honor can look like when a father’s failings are laid bare.

After the flood, Noah planted a vineyard, drank too much, and passed out naked in his tent. His son Ham saw him exposed and mocked his shame. His brothers, Shem and Japheth, took a blanket, walked backward, and covered him.

It wasn’t easy. I imagine Shem and Japheth groaning at the sight of their father — maybe with tears in their eyes. Some fathers decline; some abandon; but every father fails in some way, and those failures bring deep sadness. Grief isn’t a sin. Derision and resentment are.

What do we do when we see our fathers in their weakness? When bitterness stirs, when old wounds reopen, when the urge to expose feels justified? The man who once loomed large now looks small. He wielded power over a child but appears diminished, not just by age but by the perspective that comes with time. That truth can stir anger or sorrow — or offer release.

In the garden, when Adam and Eve sinned, they saw their own nakedness for the first time and tried to cover it with leaves. The first act of grace in scripture was God covering their shame with garments He made Himself. Blood was shed to make those coverings — a quiet foreshadowing of what grace would one day cost.

That moment wasn’t about modesty. It was mercy. God did for them what they could not do for themselves. He covered their shame. From that moment on, grace has always moved toward covering — not humiliating.

At the cross, the story reached its fulfillment. The Son of God allowed Himself to be stripped bare. He bore the nakedness that belonged to us. What began in Eden with God covering human shame ended on Calvary with Christ carrying it. We were clothed in mercy because the innocent one was exposed.

Jesus told another story about a father and his sons. One rebelled and returned in disgrace. The other stayed but grew proud and resentful. Both disrespected their father — one through sin, the other through scorn. Yet the father ran to meet the prodigal and later went out to plead with the older son. He carried the same heart as Shem and Japheth. He covered shame, and even resentment, with grace.

RELATED:What we lose when we rush past pain

O2O Creative via iStock/Getty Images

Caregiving brings old wounds to the surface fast, and the holidays push them even closer to the edge. Many caregivers know this. They spend their days covering weakness — with blankets, patience, or prayer. They honor parents who can’t return the favor, who may not even recognize them anymore. Sometimes they protect in spite of, not because of. Some fathers, like that caller’s, won’t change. But we can.

At some holiday tables, people say, “Please pass the turkey,” when what they really want to say is, “Why can’t you?” or “Why didn’t you?” Those moments expose the gap between what we feel and what we’re called to.

Some fathers failed in ways that make reconciliation impossible. Honoring them does not mean returning to harm, pretending nothing happened, or carrying the weight of their failures. Their shame is not ours to bear. But we’re also not given permission to parade it.

So we honor the office, tell the truth, and set safe boundaries. We refuse to be shaped by their sin and trust God to deal with what belongs to Him. And because grace covers us, we can choose dignity over bitterness — even when fathers fall.

The radical nonprofit that is destroying state education



For decades, U.S. education has been dominated by the American left. Its stranglehold was highly visible during the Biden administration, with countless stories about wildly inappropriate books in school libraries, critical race theory being taught in classrooms, and national associations calling for parents to be designated domestic terrorists.

How did our public school systems — including those in red states, from Iowa to Alaska — become infected with radical leftist ideology? The answer is education consulting groups.

As long as Republicans continue to outsource their governance and expertise to thinly veiled activist groups, nothing will change.

Most Americans don’t realize that every aspect of governance, from parks and wildlife departments to the curriculum in kids’ schools, has been outsourced to a coalition of nameless, faceless NGO consulting groups that are funded by millions of taxpayer dollars funneled through the government. One of the worst offenders is the American Institutes for Research.

AIR is currently under contract with at least 25 states, with the majority involving contracts to develop state standards. For those unfamiliar with education policy, standards determine what students need to learn and when they need to learn it. Lesson plans, curriculum, and textbooks are required by law to be aligned with standards.

AIR’s tentacles stretch from D.C. into health care and counseling policy — and education. It has long been entrenched in most red-state education departments to “facilitate” standards revisions. Take its influence in Alaska as a recent example.

Alaska has had multiple contracts with the nonprofit, including the School Climate and Connectedness Survey, which focuses on social-emotional learning and adult education content standards. AIR is also cited as a teaching resource for curriculum implementation.

On the Alaska Department of Education’s social studies website, AIR is listed as a source multiple times, including in the HQIM Rubric and in a PowerPoint presentation that was given to the state board, which was co-presented with an AIR employee. The presenters insisted that standards must have an equity focus and touted a shift from learning about social studies to student activism, or “action civics.”

These standards were implemented in Alaska’s new social studies curriculum, and the results are predictably a mess. Developed by a panel selected by race rather than merit, the standards are chock-full of land acknowledgments and other progressive claptrap. Alaska is now training its kids to be activists rather than teaching them about the American founding.

Worse yet, Alaska is also a partner with AIR for its Indigenous Student Identification Project, headed by Nara Nayar. On her LinkedIn account, she proudly lists her work “on comprehensive sexuality education for elementary and middle school students.”

This is where Alaskan taxpayer dollars are going: equity education, activism training, and filling the pockets of far-left education consultants who teach sex ed to elementary students.

Turning to the Midwest, Iowa’s social studies overhaul is in consultation with Stefanie Wager, a former AIR employee who is a glorified activist. She lists “racial justice, equity, and inclusion” as top priorities. Wager has an extensive list of extremist views that influence her work as an education consultant.

Wager was once president of the National Association for the Social Studies, a left-wing outfit that has shaped red-state history instruction. She has also worked as the education partner manager for Bill Gates’ personal office. Wager began as an AIR employee embedded within the Iowa Department of Education. When news broke about her involvement, she left AIR and joined the Iowa Department of Education full-time.

These aren’t just one-off examples — they are emblematic of the reach and influence of shadow consultant organizations that control public education. Peruse nearly any state department of education, and you will find rubrics with equity focuses, social studies curriculum full of progressive ideology, and AIR-linked content on state websites. Nebraska, for example, contracted AIR for a social studies report that is spotlighted on AIR’s website.

RELATED: Trump admin takes major step toward dismantling the Department of Education

Aaron Schwartz/Bloomberg via Getty Images

The worst part is that state taxpayers are unknowingly funding all of this. South Dakota signed a nearly quarter-million-dollar contract with AIR to facilitate work-group meetings to revise the state’s social studies standards, which produced standards laced with wokeness. The blowback was so swift that then-Gov. Kristi Noem (R) had to intervene and force South Dakota’s Education Department to restart its standards revision work from scratch.

The result was some of the best standards in the country.

Alaska has likely paid millions for its various studies and surveys, but the cost of only one project, at $350,000, is publicly available. Iowa awarded AIR a $31 million contract for testing assessments. This is a patronage scheme using taxpayer dollars to fund pet leftist programs. To make matters worse, most red states keep all of this hidden. In Alaska, you have to pay the state for a contract to be disclosed.

As long as Republicans continue to outsource their governance and expertise to thinly veiled activist groups, nothing will change. Schools will continue to be breeding grounds for left-wing extremism, school libraries will be filled with radical propaganda — and taxpayers will keep funding all of it.

Red-state legislatures and governors need to look to trusted alternative providers that reflect their states’ values. They should create and fund parallel structures that put outcomes above partisan dogma and properly vet each person to whom they give their constituents’ money. This is the only way to begin countering the efforts of the shadow government in our states.

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

The imperial judiciary strikes back



So far, more than 100 federal court judges have ruled against the Trump administration in hundreds of lawsuits filed by states, unions, nonprofit organizations, and individuals.

While some of these rulings are fairly grounded in the Constitution, federal law, and precedent, many are expressions of primal rage from judges offended by the administration and moving at breakneck speed to stop it.

Trump sometimes exceeds his authority. Activist judges substitute ‘frequently’ for ‘sometimes.’ The Constitution and the Supreme Court disagree.

According to a Politico analysis, 87 of 114 federal judges who ruled against the administration were appointed by Democratic presidents, and 27 by Republicans. Most of the lawsuits were filed in just a few districts, with repeat activist judges leading the opposition.

Lawsuits against the administration may be filed in the District of Columbia and, often, also in other districts. Initially cases are randomly assigned. Plaintiffs focus on districts with predominantly activist, progressive judges. Because related cases are usually assigned to the same judge, later plaintiffs file in districts in which related cases were assigned to friendly activists.

Conservative judges generally believe they should interpret the law and avoid ruling on political questions, while liberals tend to see themselves as protectors of their values. After 60 years of domination by activist liberals, the Supreme Court and conservative appeals court judges are finally demanding that district court judges respect the Constitution. The Supreme Court is also re-evaluating precedents established by far-left justices who substituted their values for the words and intentions embodied in the Constitution.

To date, the Supreme Court has reversed or stayed about 30 lower court injunctions blocking the administration, and appeals courts have reversed or stayed another dozen. Even Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson imposed an administrative stay on a district court decision requiring the immediate resumption of SNAP payments.

Federal judges who oppose Trump’s agenda are openly opposing the Supreme Court. In April, D.C. Chief Federal Judge James Boasberg sought to hold administration officials in criminal contempt for violating an order the court had vacated. In May, Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals Judge James Ho criticized the court’s demand that district courts act promptly on administration requests. In a September ruling, Boston Federal Judge Allison Burroughs challenged the court for expecting lower courts to treat its emergency orders as binding legal precedent.

Ten of 12 federal judges interviewed by NBC News in September, and 47 of 65 federal judges responding to a New York Times survey in October, thought the court was mishandling its emergency docket. They described orders as “incredibly demoralizing and troubling” and “a slap in the face to the district courts.”

Deservedly so. Though the Supreme Court and appeals courts judges have rebuked district court judges for ignoring higher courts and abusing their authority, they continue to do so with rulings focused on identity politics and a progressive lens on the woes of immigrants, minorities, women, and workers. They likely expect to be reversed on appeal, but they secure wins by causing delay and creating fodder for progressive activists to rally their supporters.

There is little that can be done about these judges. Removal requires a majority vote in the House and a two-thirds vote in the Senate. With Democrats supporting these judges, those votes are unrealistic.

RELATED: Who checks the judges? No one — and that’s the problem.

Photo by Kevin Carter/Getty Images

Just a few of the dozens of examples of politicized judicial decisions:

In May, Myong Joun, a Biden appointee in Boston, enjoined layoffs at the Department of Education in a decision featuring an encomium to its anti-discrimination mission. The Supreme Court stayed his injunction.

Despite this precedent, Susan Illston, a Clinton appointee in San Francisco, issued a nationwide injunction barring the administration from firing union employees during or because of the government shutdown. Ignoring settled law, she bemoaned the “trauma” of workers who had been under “stress” ever since Trump’s election. Illston gambled correctly that the shutdown would end before her order could be reversed.

Indira Talwani, a federal district court judge in Boston, went further. Declaiming her fear that defunding Planned Parenthood would deprive women of access to abortions, she elided Article I of the Constitution, which requires all federal spending to be approved by Congress, nullifying a duly enacted statute that suspended funding of large abortion providers for a year. By the time she is reversed, the suspension will have expired.

In June, after San Francisco Federal Judge Charles Breyer enjoined Trump from federalizing the California National Guard, a three-judge panel of the Ninth Circuit unanimously stayed his order, explaining that on military matters, the president’s judgment stands unless it is dishonest. Nonetheless, Oregon Federal Judge Karin Immergut subsequently blocked deployments in Portland, substituting her assessment of the situation for the president’s.

An Obama-appointed judge recently interviewed by NBC explained, “Trump derangement syndrome is a real issue. As a result, judges are mad at what Trump is doing or the manner he is going about things; they are sometimes forgetting to stay in their lane.”

Trump sometimes exceeds his authority. Activist judges, who self-reverentially believe progressive technocrats and judges are democracy’s guardians, substitute “frequently” for “sometimes.” The Constitution and the Supreme Court disagree.

Is a tariff a tax?



Is a tariff a tax? Many Americans have forgotten that this question, which has been in the news more or less all year, was fundamental to the American Revolution. And among American Patriots, or Whigs, meaning those who supported the colonists’ claims against Parliament, there was almost universal consensus that they were different things, constitutionally speaking.

Throughout the Imperial Crisis of 1763 to 1776, the consensus among the colonists was that Parliament had the right to regulate trade in the British Empire but had no right to tax the colonists. And they recognized that a regulation of trade might take the form of a duty imposed upon, for example, molasses imported from French colonies to favor molasses imported from British colonies.

The founding generation believed in the separation of powers.

In the colonists’ view, the Sugar Act of 1764 was an unconstitutional innovation. The Act was quite explicit, stating at the top that it was passed for the purpose of “applying the produce of such duties, and of the duties to arise by virtue of the said act, towards defraying the expences of defending, protecting, and securing the said colonies and plantations.” It was the first trade act to do that.

Townshend’s overreach

The Stamp Act of 1765, and the reaction to it, made the protest against the 1764 Sugar Act less conspicuous. The result of the actions taken against the Stamp Act was that many in Parliament did not grasp the American argument against the Sugar Act. Hence, Parliament passed the Townshend Acts in 1767, imposing duties on lead, glass, paper, paint, and tea to raise revenue. When the colonists complained, many in Parliament accused the colonists of moving the goalposts.

The charge was not accurate, but it did reflect what they believed. And, like many today, many members of Parliament were unable to grasp the difference between a duty imposed for the purpose of trade regulation and a duty imposed for the purpose of raising revenue.

The most famous criticism of the Townshend Acts, and the most popular writing of the era until Thomas Paine published “Common Sense” in January 1776, was John Dickinson’s “Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania.” In the second letter, Dickinson made the consensus Patriot argument logically, clearly, and eloquently.

There is another late act of parliament, which appears to me to be unconstitutional, and as destructive to the liberty of these colonies, as that mentioned in my last letter; that is, the act for granting the duties on paper, glass, etc.

The parliament unquestionably possesses a legal authority to regulate the trade of Great Britain, and all her colonies. Such an authority is essential to the relation between a mother country and her colonies; and necessary for the common good of all ...

I have looked over every statute relating to these colonies, from their first settlement to this time; and I find every one of them founded on this principle, till the Stamp Act administration.* All before, are calculated to regulate trade, and preserve or promote a mutually beneficial intercourse between the several constituent parts of the empire. ... The raising of a revenue thereby was never intended. ... Never did the British parliament, till the period above mentioned, think of imposing duties in America for the purpose of raising a revenue. ...

Here we may observe an authority expressly claimed and exerted to impose duties on these colonies; not for the regulation of trade; not for the preservation or promotion of a mutually beneficial intercourse between the several constituent parts of the empire, heretofore the sole objects of parliamentary institutions; but for the single purpose of levying money upon us.

This I call an innovation; and a most dangerous innovation.* It may perhaps be objected, that Great Britain has a right to lay what duties she pleases upon her exports.

That so many people today don’t seem to understand this distinction is a sign that the American bar seems to have gone Tory. The founding generation’s way of thinking about tariffs, and perhaps law in general, is in danger of being rendered foreign to our public policy discussion, perhaps even to constitutional discussion, even among people who mistakenly think of themselves as originalists.

This way of thinking, of course, says little about the current case, as the purpose of the law itself must be understood in light of the thinking of the men who passed it. But it is also true that the way of thinking that Dickinson represented, and which was broadly shared in the founding generation, might have something to say here.

Delegation’s limits

The founding generation believed in the separation of powers. The founders recognized, as “The Federalist” notes, that in practice the powers will inevitably overlap and sometimes clash. But they did operate within a way of legal and constitutional thinking that took it as a given that in order to guard the separation of powers, any delegation of legislative powers to the executive had to be limited and focused.

There is a difference between a reasonable and an unreasonable delegation of powers, just as there is between a tax and a regulation of trade, even if, in both cases, money is raised at customs houses. The kind of delegation the Trump administration is asserting in this case is difficult, perhaps impossible, to reconcile with the practice of separation of powers. Congress has no right to abdicate its obligation to set trade policy via legislation.

RELATED: Read it and weep: Tariffs work, and the numbers prove it

Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images

The Trump administration’s assertion that it has the right to set tariffs worldwide, claiming unlimited emergency power based on a law designed to delegate to the president a narrow emergency power, resembles the kind of expansive, arbitrary interpretation that the founders’ legal heroes fought.

In the 1630s, King Charles claimed the right to collect “ship money” throughout England. By tradition, the king had the right to raise money, without Parliament’s consent, in port towns in time of war, or if war was imminent.

King Charles asserted a living constitution interpretation: Given modern circumstances, he claimed a general right to raise taxes if a war emergency was imminent. Dickinson mentioned the case in the first Farmer’s Letters, suggesting there was a connection between the logic of the one argument and the other.

Our difficulty recognizing the limits of the nondelegation doctrine — and our confusion about the difference between a duty imposed to raise revenue and one imposed to regulate trade — shows how much work remains if we want to understand the Constitution as the framers did. That understanding requires grappling with the ideas about human nature, government, and law that justified ratification in the first place and that still anchor our constitutional order.

Editor’s note: This article was originally published by RealClearPolitics and made available via RealClearWire.

These banners don’t just signal ‘Pride’ — they announce conquest



On September 11, 2001, three New York firefighters raised an American flag above the wreckage of the World Trade Center. That moment was more than an image. It was a declaration that the country had buckled but not broken. That flag rallied millions, inspired enlistments, and stiffened a nation’s resolve mere hours after the most devastating attack in modern U.S. history.

In 2025, the opposite message is taking root in some of America’s cities. In Boise, Idaho, and Minneapolis, Minnesota, local leaders elevate symbolic banners that compete with, sidestep, or openly contradict the national and state standards that define shared civic space.

If we want unity, we must lead with the symbols that foster it. Because if we don’t plant our flags, someone else will.

In Boise, a blue island in a bright red state, Mayor Lauren McLean (D) kept the Pride flag flying over City Hall despite Idaho’s HB 96, a law restricting public property to the U.S. and state flags. After Attorney General Raúl Labrador (R) issued a cease-and-desist, McLean responded with a letter threatening legal action and framed her stance as “standing with my community.” The city council followed with a 5-1 vote to adopt the Pride flag as an official city emblem to get around the law.

In Minneapolis, state Sen. Omar Fateh (D) waved a Somali regional flag at an October campaign rally. Supporters defended the gesture as cultural outreach to the city’s large Somali population. Opponents saw something else: a political statement that placed clan or regional identity ahead of shared civic loyalty.

At first glance, these acts look harmless. But historians — and anyone who has studied conflict or national movements — know that flags communicate power. A flag marks territory, signals allegiance, and announces who intends to lead.

A banner raised in a civic space says something about the future of that space. It’s a symbol of conquest — in this case, conquest without firing a shot.

Minneapolis illustrates the stakes. Somali-Americans represent a large and active community, and political leaders court their votes aggressively. But clan politics from Somalia’s fractured landscape often follow families to the United States.

Analysts noted that Minneapolis’ recent mayoral race reflected clan splits, with blocs supporting or opposing Somali candidates not on ideology but lineage. That tension influences local elections and creates new pressures on civic life.

Political imagery matters when communities already navigate competing loyalties. A foreign regional flag held aloft at a campaign rally isn’t a neutral gesture; it’s an invitation to organize political power around identities that do not map cleanly onto American civic culture.

History amplifies that point. For centuries, flags have signaled triumph or defeat long before a treaty forced anyone’s hand. At Fort McHenry in 1814, the sight of the American flag still flying after a night of bombardment, energized defenders and inspired the poem that became our national anthem. At Iwo Jima in 1945, Marines raised the U.S. flag atop Mount Suribachi, transforming a brutal fight into a symbol of American resolve and shifting the morale of both sides.

Flags shape memory. They mark identity. They tell people who stands firm and who gives ground.

RELATED: The real danger isn’t immigration — it’s the refusal to become American

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That is why the flags flown on public property matter now. McLean’s use of the Pride flag isn’t just about “love is love.” It supplants the symbol that binds Idahoans across differences. Fateh’s regional Somali flag isn’t simply cultural pride; it injects external political identities into municipal politics and signals a shift in who claims influence over public life.

Americans can shrug at this trend or take it seriously. Civic symbols either unite a people or divide them. A city hall flagpole should unify, not segment communities into competing camps. A political rally should appeal to voters as Americans, not as factions drawn from overseas allegiances.

The answer is not outrage or retaliation. The answer is clarity: reclaim civic symbols that express shared loyalty to a shared country. Fly the U.S. flag. Fly state flags. Encourage communities to celebrate their heritage while affirming the nation that binds them together.

A nation confident in itself does not surrender its symbols. It presents them proudly — on porches, at city halls, and at the center of public life. America’s strength begins with the values and commitments those flags represent.

If we want unity, we must lead with the symbols that foster it. Because if we don’t plant our flags, someone else will.

How GOP leadership can turn a midterm gift into a total disaster



Did Donald Trump secretly plan this fight over the Jeffrey Epstein files to lure Democrats into another political trap? No. I don’t believe he did. I know people close to the president who were frustrated over the summer when he abruptly shifted from promising the files' release to calling it a “distraction” and a “hoax.” I said at the time on my show that the switch was the first major misstep of Trump 2.0.

But I understand why the 4D-chess theory is so tempting now. It looks like a setup. House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-N.Y.) spent months attacking Trump over Epstein. Then we learned that Jeffries may have accepted donor requests from Epstein after Epstein’s first sex-offense conviction. And a Democrat from the Virgin Islands — Epstein’s district — was literally taking dictation from Epstein on what questions to ask in a congressional hearing.

The 2026 midterms are coming fast. If the GOP wants to avoid another preventable disaster, it had better stop rehearsing the same script.

Those are facts, not theories.

The deeper truth, though, has nothing to do with strategy. American politics follows two patterns, and both showed up again this week.

First, Republicans pre-emptively surrender. Always.

Watch Democrats tell soldiers to ignore orders while Trump follows every instruction a federal judge hands him. His restraint isn’t Romney-level, but the Republicans around him shrink the space for any real fight. That’s why Attorney General Pam Bondi is developing a well-deserved reputation for overpromising and under-delivering.

RELATED: The right message: Justice. The wrong messenger: Pam Bondi.

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Second, Democrats always overreach when Republicans fold.

We saw it in 2018 when Republicans gave up on repealing Obamacare and lost 40 House seats for their cowardice. The pattern continued in 2020, as Democrats pushed their false god evangelism into insane absolutism — on “fortifying” elections, on arresting Trump, on forcing people into taking the poisonous jab, on transitioning kids. It was mark of the beast stuff, and voters wanted no part of it.

The latest example came this week, when Sen. Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) answered a question from a friendly reporter about why Democrats never pursued the Epstein files when they had the chance by snapping, “What is [Trump] hiding?” The Senate had just voted almost unanimously to release those files, and instead of revealing Trump, former Bill Clinton hack Lawrence Summers stood exposed for his ties to the sex offender, seeking his counsel as “wingman” in an effort to seduce the daughter of a high Chinese Communist Party official.

RELATED: ‘Swamp protects itself’: Republicans shield Epstein-texting Democrat — allegedly to save Cory Mills’ hide

Anna Rose Layden/Bloomberg via Getty Images

Both parties cling to their worst instincts. Republicans surrender too easily. Democrats push too far. And no politician in modern history has been buoyed more by his opponents’ excesses than Donald Trump.

So once again, Republicans hold the advantage on the Epstein files — at least for the moment. But early signs suggest they may squander it. House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) and Pam Bondi appear ready to narrow or redact the release into something the base will see as betrayal. If that happens, Democrats won’t need to win the argument. Republicans will beat themselves.

The 2026 midterms are coming fast. If the GOP wants to avoid another preventable disaster, it had better stop rehearsing the same script.

A little discipline — and a little courage — would go a long way.

Stop asking questions shaped by someone else’s script



The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

RELATED: Antifa burns, the media spin, and truth takes the hits

Photo by Philip Pacheco/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

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A payout scheme for senators deepens the gap between DC and the rest of us



During the final hours of the shutdown fight earlier this month, Senate Majority Leader John Thune (R-S.D.) slipped a toxic provision into the continuing resolution that reopened the government. The clause created a special pathway for select senators to sue the federal government, bypass its usual legal defenses, and claim large payouts if their records were subpoenaed during the Arctic Frost investigation.

The result? About eight senators could demand $500,000 for every “instance” of seized data. Those instances could stack, pushing potential payouts into the tens of millions of taxpayer dollars. That is not an exaggeration. Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) has all but celebrated the prospect.

Graham said he wanted ‘tens of millions of dollars’ for seized records while victims of weaponization still face shattered lives.

No one else would qualify for compensation. Only senators. Anyone who spent years helping victims of political weaponization — often pro bono, while prestige law firms chased billable hours — can see the corruption in plain view. The message this provision sends on the central Trump-era promise of accountability could not be weaker: screw the people, pay the pols.

The surveillance of senators was wrong. It should never have happened. But senators did not face what ordinary Americans endured. Senators maintain large campaign accounts to hire top lawyers. They operate out of official offices, armed with constitutional protections such as the Speech and Debate Clause. They do not lose their homes, jobs, savings, or businesses. Thousands of Americans did. Many still face legal bills, ruined livelihoods, and ongoing cases. They deserve restitution — not the politicians who failed them.

Graham helped push this provision forward. As public criticism grew, he defended it. On Sean Hannity’s show the other day, he said: “My phone records were seized. I’m not going to put up with this crap. I’m going to sue.” Hannity asked how much. Graham replied: “Tens of millions of dollars.”

Democrats will replay that clip across every battleground in the country going into an uphill midterm battle in 2026.

Graham embodies the worst messenger for this fight. He helped fuel weaponization long before he claimed victimhood. He urged the late Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) to pass the Steele dossier to the FBI. As chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, he did nothing to slow the Justice Department and FBI as they pursued political targets. He even supported many of President Joe Biden’s judicial nominees who later embraced aggressive lawfare tactics. If anyone owed restitution to victims, Graham sits high on the list.

RELATED: Trump’s pardons expose the left’s vast lawfare machine

Photo by Win McNamee/Getty Images

Fortunately, enough Republicans recognize the political and moral disaster of funneling taxpayer funds to senators while real victims remain abandoned. The House advanced a measure today to repeal the provision. Led by Reps. Austin Scott (R-Ga.) and Chip Roy (R-Texas), the House forced the Senate to address in public what it attempted to smuggle through in private.

Thune defended the measure in comments to Axios. He argued that only senators suffered statutory violations and said the provision was crafted to avoid covering House members. He did not explain why any House member who was illegally surveilled should receive no remedy.

The Senate leader also claimed the financial penalty would deter a future Justice Department from targeting lawmakers, citing the actions of special counsel Jack Smith. His emphasis on “future” misconduct glossed over a critical fact: The provision is retroactive and would cover past abuses.

That defense cannot survive daylight. Repeal requires 60 Senate votes, and not a single Democrat will fight to preserve a payout for Graham. Republicans should not try either. Efforts to strike the measure need to begin immediately. Senators — especially Thune — should commit to an up-or-down vote. If they want to send tens of millions of dollars in taxpayer funds to Graham, they should do it in public, with the country watching.

Washington already reeks of grift and self-dealing this year. If senators protect this provision, that smell will spread nationwide.