Americans are used to overheated political arguments, but this past week crossed into territory that should concern anyone who cares about a stable constitutional order. In the span of a few days, political figures from both parties turned the nation’s military and the rule of law into rhetorical weapons. The specifics differ, but the ethos driving each escalation is the same: the belief that political gain is worth flirting with institutional instability.

It began with a video posted on X by a group of Democratic veterans and former intelligence officials reminding service members that they need not obey “illegal” orders. As a legal principle, that is correct. Under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, troops are required to follow only lawful commands.

But legality isn’t the central issue here. In practice, we should not expect enlisted personnel to act as on-the-spot constitutional lawyers. Except in obvious, extreme scenarios, the legality of an order is typically determined by military lawyers, not privates or seamen in real time. A functioning chain of command depends on discipline; there is no place for service members conducting their own instant legal review.

More troubling was the clear implication underlying the message: that President Trump has issued or will issue unlawful orders. If the Democrats genuinely believe that, they have every right to make a substantive legal argument. What they should not do is float insinuations that encourage rank-and-file troops to second-guess the chain of command based on vague political warnings. Introducing that kind of ambiguity into military hierarchy is irresponsible, and politicizing the armed forces is incredibly toxic.

Unfortunately, the political response that followed only made things worse. On Truth Social, President Trump labeled the Democrats in the video “traitors,” and he accused them of sedition and deserving of the death penalty. It’s one thing for a political figure to express anger or dispute an accusation. It is entirely another to accuse opponents of capital crimes.

For anyone committed to limited government, this should set off alarms. Treason and sedition are not partisan terms to be tossed around in anger; they are among the most severe charges the state can bring. A political leader invoking them without sufficient legal backing is engaging in reprehensible rhetoric, even if no legal action results. Treating political speech—no matter how wrong—as criminal conduct cuts against every classical liberal principle, from free expression to the presumption of innocence.

Then, as if rhetorical temperatures weren’t high enough, Sen. Chris Murphy (D-Conn.) posted his own message on X telling Americans that if they haven’t picked a side, “now would be the time to pick a [expletive] side.” Sen. Murphy was not specifically calling for violence or prosecution, but by framing politics as a civil-conflict binary he raised the stakes rather than attempting to calmly engage with the president’s response. For a country already sorting itself into two mutually suspicious camps, language that implies existential confrontation only accelerates a process that is corrosive to pluralism.

To be clear, not all of these actions are equivalent. The Democrats’ video was egregious and destabilizing, but it is not threatening and is technically correct. Sen. Murphy’s post was inflammatory, but fell short of calling for the death of his opponents. President Trump’s rhetoric crossed a far more serious line by invoking treason, sedition, and death. But regardless of the “whose behavior was worse” debate, the entire saga reflects a broader pattern: the belief that the best way to motivate supporters is to paint politics as a struggle in which normal rules and restraints no longer apply.

This is exactly the wrong direction. Our system depends on the idea that disagreement is legitimate, that power is limited, and that institutions—especially the military—serve the constitutional order. When leaders treat political opponents as enemies of the state, or encourage Americans to see each other as combatants in an impending conflict, they chip away at the foundation that keeps our free society functioning.

Unfortunately, political leaders are unlikely to self-correct. The incentives reward escalation, outrage, and existential messaging. There is little payoff to moderation when viral content and base mobilization drive fundraising and media attention.

The responsibility, then, falls to the general public and in particular to those who claim to value liberty and constitutional restraint. Americans must make clear that certain lines are not acceptable, no matter who crosses them. Political leaders should not use the military or the chain of command as props in partisan conflict unless they are prepared to provide detailed, substantive evidence. No elected official should accuse opponents of treason or sedition without meeting the extraordinarily high legal standards those charges require. No one—left or right—should frame ordinary political disagreement as a looming civil confrontation. A free society cannot function under permanent siege rhetoric.

These are not left-wing or right-wing principles. They are basic rules of constitutional self-government, grounded in skepticism of concentrated power and respect for civil liberties.

For now, this episode remains confined to social media. No violence has followed. But rhetoric shapes norms, and norms shape behavior. A political culture that treats opponents as criminals or combatants is not one that sustains liberty for long.

The United States is not on the brink of collapse, but we are courting instability every time political leaders suggest we are. Those who care about classical liberalism, whether they lean left, right, or anywhere else, should insist on something healthier. We must stand for a political culture that treats disagreement as normal, not dangerous, and that understands power must be restrained, not inflamed.

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