I’m not a political person. I’ve spent most of my adult life working hard, raising a family, and trying to stay out of the shouting match that American politics has become. But what I’ve seen over the past few years — and what I’m seeing now — has left me shaken in a way that two combat tours in Iraq never did.

I served in the Army under both President Bush and President Obama. I was proud to wear the uniform, even when I witnessed things overseas that challenged my sense of right and wrong: corruption, cruelty, lies.

I saw Iraqi commanders we propped up torture prisoners within earshot of our offices. I watched American commanders hand over suitcases of cash to known bad actors. I saw contractors behave like cowboys and get away with things no soldier ever could.

And still, I served — because I believed in the idea that America, for all its flaws, stood for something greater than brute force or personal gain.

That belief is being tested now, not by a foreign power or a terrorist threat, but by our own elected officials — and by a growing number of citizens who seem eager to embrace authoritarianism in red, white and blue.

I never thought I’d live to see the day when my own country flirted openly with strongman politics. Military parades for a draft-dodging president. Political leaders promising to use the Department of Justice as a weapon against their opponents. Talk of suspending elections, ignoring court rulings and “retribution” against fellow Americans.

Members of Congress — many of whom have never served a day in uniform — cheer this on while voting to slash veterans’ benefits and social programs that support working families.

I saw this play out overseas — and we called it state collapse.

We are watching the slow erosion of democracy in real time, and the people doing it call themselves patriots. They accuse others of extremism while floating unconstitutional third terms, praising foreign dictators, and undermining the institutions that hold this country together.

It’s not just dangerous. It’s familiar. I saw this play out overseas — and we called it state collapse.

Some of the loudest voices pushing us toward this precipice have no idea what it looks like when society falls apart. They’ve never seen the look on a civilian’s face when the rule of law disappears. They’ve never heard the sounds of torture echo through a concrete building. They’ve never handed MREs to kids whose schools were bombed. I have. I didn’t think I’d have to imagine what that might look like on American soil. But I do now.

A Special Commentary Project

Civil Beat opinion writers are closely following efforts to bring more transparency and accountability to state and local government — at the Legislature, the county level and in the media. Help us by sending ideas and anecdotes to sunshine@civilbeat.org.

Read More

Here in Hawaiʻi, we’ve long felt somewhat insulated from the political extremism sweeping the mainland. But it’s reaching our shores too. I’ve seen it firsthand in neighborhood board meetings, where mainland transplants — uninformed but vocal — begin to drown out the longtime residents who actually understand this place. National dysfunction isn’t staying national. It’s coming home.

I’m not writing this to cause panic. I’m writing because I believe there’s still time to act. Still time to remember what we’re supposed to stand for. Still time to vote, organize, speak up and push back — peacefully, but firmly — against the slide into fear and power worship.

This country isn’t perfect. It never was. But it’s still ours — if we’re willing to fight for it. I’ve done that once already. And I’ll do it again, even if now the battlefield looks like a voting booth, a town hall or a quiet act of truth-telling in the face of silence.

I hope others will join me. Because this time, the enemy isn’t across an ocean. It’s the lie that says we can’t lose what we have.