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The lessons of history reveal the sort of lasting damage that Donald Trump’s micro-military fiasco in the Middle East might be inflicting on this country’s declining imperium.
Writing more than 2,000 years ago, the Greek historian Plutarch gave us an eloquent description of what modern historians now call “micro-militarism.” When an imperial power like Athens then, or America now, is in decline, its leaders often react emotionally by mounting seemingly bold military strikes in hopes of regaining the imperial grandeur that’s slipping through their fingers. Instead of another of the great victories the empire won at its peak of power, however, such military misadventures only serve to accelerate the ongoing decline, erasing whatever aura of imperial majesty remains and revealing instead the moral rot deep inside the ruling elite.
There is mounting historical evidence that America is indeed an empire in steep decline, while President Donald Trump’s war of choice against Iran is becoming the sort of micro-military disaster that helped destroy successive empires over the past 2,500 years—from ancient Athens to medieval Portugal to modern Spain, Great Britain, and now the United States. And at the core of every such ill-fated war-making decision lay a problematic leader, often born into wealth and prestige, whose personal inadequacies reflected and ramified the many irrationalities that make imperial decline such a painful process.
During that demoralizing downward spiral, imperial armies, so lethal in an empire’s ascent, can err by plunging their countries into draining, even disastrous “micro-military” misadventures—psychologically compensatory efforts to salve the loss of imperial power by trying to occupy new territories or display awe-inspiring military might. Although such micro-militarism often chose targets that proved strategically unsustainable, the psychological pressures upon declining empires are so strong that they all too often gamble their prestige on just such misadventures. Not only did such disasters add financial pressures to a fading empire’s many troubles, but in a humiliating fashion, they also invariably exposed its eroding power while exacerbating the destabilizing impact of imperial decline in the capitals of empire (whether Athens, Lisbon, Madrid, London, or Washington, DC).
In our moment, when the bombs stop falling and the rubble is finally cleared from the streets of Tehran and Beirut, the impact on US global power of such a de facto defeat will become all too clear—as alliances like NATO atrophy, American hegemony evaporates, legitimacy is lost, global disorder rises, and the world economy suffers.
Even if Trump destroys Iran’s infrastructure or eventually negotiates a face-saving peace deal, by every metric that really matters, Washington has already lost its war with Iran.
Let me now turn from the disasters of the present imperial moment to the lessons of history to explore the sort of lasting damage that Donald Trump’s micro-military misadventure in the Middle East might be inflicting on this country’s declining imperium.
The date was 413 BC. The place was ancient Athens, then the seat of a powerful empire, long dominant around the rim of the Aegean Sea but losing influence to a sustained military challenge by Sparta. At the port of Piraeus, a “certain stranger,” as the historian and philosopher Plutarch recalled, “took a seat in a barber’s shop, and began to discourse [on] what had happened as if the Athenians already knew all about it.” Stunned by this stranger’s report of a military debacle in far-off Sicily, the barber “ran at the top of his speed to the upper city” of Athens, where the news sparked “consternation and confusion.”
What that stranger described was the greatest military disaster in the history of the Athenian empire. Two years earlier, in the midst of the protracted Peloponnesian Wars, the aristocrat Nicias—an indifferent, indecisive leader who used his inherited wealth to court popularity with lavish spectacles—persuaded the citizens of Athens to deliver a theoretically bold blow against a rival imperial power, Sparta, by attacking its ally Syracuse in Sicily in hopes of crippling the enemy, capturing riches, and recovering Athens’ ebbing hegemony.
Instead of victory, however, Athens’ vast armada of 200 ships and some 12,000 soldiers suffered a devastating defeat. Not only was the fleet destroyed (largely because Nicias proved “an incompetent military commander”), but his surviving soldiers were captured, confined on a starvation diet in a stone quarry, and sold into slavery. Athens never recovered.
Within a decade, the city had been starved into submission by Sparta’s impenetrable blockade of a naval choke point in the Dardanelles Strait, stripped of its empire, and subjected to autocratic rule by a pro-Spartan oligarchy.
Our next date is 1578. The place is Portugal, the seat of a lucrative empire that had controlled commerce across the Indian Ocean for decades but now found its hegemony challenged by Muslim merchant princes allied with the Ottoman Empire.
In its capital, Lisbon, a headstrong young king, Sebastian, suffered from sexual impotence and a fiery temperament that made him a fanatical “captain of Christ.” With the idea of striking a lethal blow in his country’s global war against Islam, the young king persuaded the flower of his nation’s aristocracy to follow him on a latter-day crusade across the Mediterranean Sea to Morocco. There, at the fateful Battle of Alcácer Quibir, Portugal’s army was slaughtered by local Muslim forces. Some 8,000 Portuguese troops were killed, 15,000 captured, and only 100 escaped.
The defeat was so devastating that it not only destroyed the king and his court but also precipitated the country’s incorporation into the Spanish empire for the next 60 years. In the aftermath of such reverses, the Portuguese Estado da India (or state of India) at Goa was reduced to selling permits to any ship captain who could pay, whether Hindu, Muslim, or Christian. With Portuguese commercial dominance removed from the Indian Ocean, Muslim merchants and pilgrims could once again move across it unimpeded.
Though the Portuguese empire would survive for another three centuries, it would never recover the commercial hegemony that had once allowed it to dominate the world’s sea lanes from the Spice Islands of Indonesia, across the Indian Ocean and the South Atlantic to the coast of Brazil.
And now to jump several centuries, another significant date for imperial disasters is 1920. The place was Madrid, where Spain’s leaders were already reeling from the psychological stress of their country’s long imperial decline, culminating in the loss of its last colonies, Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines in the Spanish-American War of 1898 with the rising United States.
Seeking regeneration through further colonial conquest, Spain’s conservative leaders reacted to that demoralizing defeat against America by expanding their small coastal enclaves in northern Morocco to establish a protectorate over the whole region and its arid Atlas Mountains. Spain’s inept monarch Alfonso XIII, who liked to play soldier, cultivated a clique of military favorites who shared his passion for the recovery of lost imperial glory by pacifying that rugged terrain. As resistance to Spanish rule by Berber Muslims escalated into the bloody Rif War of 1920, one of the king’s favorite generals led his troops into the Battle of Annual, where Berber fighters slaughtered some 12,000 of them.
Nonetheless, through the influence of the king and his military cronies, Spain clung desperately to those profitless Moroccan mountains. The Spaniards would, in fact, dispatch 125,000 more troops there, including its Foreign Legion led by the man who, in the 1930s, would become the leader of a fascist Spain, Francisco Franco, for a protracted pacification campaign that featured both mass slaughter and military innovation. In a desperate quest for a victory that defied both economic and strategic rationality, Spain produced some 400 metric tons of lethal mustard gas to conduct history’s first aerial bombardment using poison gas, raining mass death down upon Berber villages. And in military history’s first successful amphibious operation, the Spanish navy also landed 18,000 troops and a squadron of light tanks at Al Hoceima Bay in September 1925 to flank and soon defeat the Berber guerrillas there.
Such micro-militarism, however, not only plunged Spain into a protracted pacification campaign with soaring costs, heavy casualties, and mass atrocities, but also unleashed political forces that would destroy its struggling democracy. As the masses protested that misbegotten war, King Alfonso backed a military favorite, General Primo de Rivera, in imposing a decade of dictatorship that finally gave way to a short-lived Second Republic. In 1936, however, only a decade after the Rif War ended, General Franco flew his Army of Africa back from Morocco over the Mediterranean Sea, launching a Spanish civil war that would defeat the Republic and establish a fascist dictatorship that would rule the country for nearly 40 dismal years of economic stagnation.
Arguably, when it came to imperial decline, however, the most revealing date was 1956. The place was London, the seat of the once-proud British Empire, where the suffocating stress of a painful, protracted global imperial retreat had pushed British conservatives into a disastrous micro-military intervention at Egypt’s Suez Canal, leading to what one British diplomat would term the “dying convulsion of British imperialism.”
In July 1956 (as described in my recent book Cold War on Five Continents), Egypt’s charismatic president Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Suez Canal, ending British colonial control there, electrifying the Arab world, and elevating himself to the first rank of world leaders. Although British ships could still pass freely through the canal, the country’s conservative prime minister, Anthony Eden, a vain aristocrat and determined defender of empire, would be deeply unsettled, if not unhinged, by Nasser’s assertive nationalism. Indeed, his leadership throughout the crisis would prove so unbalanced that senior Foreign Office officials would become convinced “Eden has gone off his head.”
In response to the news of the canal’s nationalization, an apoplectic Eden would immediately convene a council of war at 4:00 in the morning. Calling Nasser a “Muslim Mussolini,” a reference to the former fascist ruler of Italy, Eden ordered “him removed and I don’t give a damn if there’s anarchy and chaos in Egypt.” Making his meaning perfectly clear, Eden asked his foreign minister: “What’s all this nonsense about isolating Nasser or ‘neutralising’ him as you call it?” He then added pointedly: “I want him destroyed, can’t you understand? I want him murdered.” With the British secret service MI6 failing in multiple assassination attempts, however, Eden’s government began plotting with the French and Israelis to launch a secret, two-phase invasion of the Suez Canal Zone.
On October 29, the Israeli army led by the dashing General Moshe Dayan swept across the Sinai Peninsula, destroying Egyptian tanks and bringing his troops within 10 miles of the canal. Using that fighting as a pretext for its own intervention (supposedly to restore peace), in just three days, an armada of six Anglo-French aircraft carriers smashed the Egyptian air force, destroying 104 of its new Soviet MIG jet fighters and 130 additional aircraft.
With Egypt’s strategic forces destroyed and its military virtually helpless before the might of that imperial juggernaut, Nasser deployed a geopolitical strategy brilliant in its simplicity. He had dozens of rusting cargo ships filled with rocks and then scuttled them at the canal’s northern entrance, quickly closing one of the world’s main maritime choke points and so cutting off Europe’s oil lifeline to the Persian Gulf. By the time 22,000 British and French forces began storming ashore at the canal’s north end on November 6, their objective of securing the free movement of ships had already been snatched from their grasp.
By the end of that micro-military disaster, Britain would be reprimanded by the United Nations; its currency would require an International Monetary Fund bailout to save it from utter collapse; its aura of imperial majesty would have evaporated; and the once mighty British Empire would be on the road to extinction. In retrospect, the Suez Crisis would not only expose the full-scale decline of British power, but also show the world that the country’s ruling Conservative establishment, with its illusions of imperial and racial superiority, was no longer capable of global leadership.
Another date likely to prove all too significant when it comes to the history of imperial decline is February 28, 2026. The place was Washington, DC, home to what had been history’s most powerful imperial state that had dominated much of the globe for nearly 80 years through a mixture of military alliances, deft diplomacy, and economic leadership. By then, however, cracks had distinctly begun to appear in its edifice of power as US global hegemony faced an increasingly strong economic challenge from China, its massive military suffered two searing defeats in Afghanistan and Iraq, and its economic globalization produced an angry populism at home.
After a populist campaign based on promises to restore both working-class prosperity and America’s global power, Donald Trump took office a second time in January 2025 promising a “golden age of America,” a “thrilling new era of national success” in which the country would “reclaim its rightful place as the greatest, most powerful, most respected nation on Earth, inspiring the awe and admiration of the entire world.” Born to wealth and privilege himself, Trump returned to office convinced of his unique “genius” for leadership and believing that “I was saved by God to make America great again.”
Wielding raw economic and military might to compel obeisance from friend and foe alike, the president, inspired by a delusional sense of divine mission, began attempting to bend the world to his will. But during his first year in office, nothing seemed to work as planned. Indeed, most of his initiatives produced the sort of backlash that only served to show how far the United States had fallen from 1991, when the break-up of the Soviet Union made it the world’s sole superpower.
With its alliances in tatters, its world leadership forfeited, and its aura of military might evaporating, the only trajectory for US global hegemony now seems to be downward.
On April 2, 2025, on what he called “Liberation Day,” Trump announced a roster of punitive tariffs to protect domestic manufacturing largely from Chinese imports that faced an initial duty of 34%—later raised to a fully punitive 100%. But at their October 2025 meeting in South Korea, China’s leader Xi Jinping forced Trump to back down by cutting US access to his country’s storehouse of strategic rare earth minerals.
In January, with his tariff initiative losing its luster, Trump plunged the NATO alliance into crisis by demanding that Denmark give him the island of Greenland, threatening to impose new tariffs on European allies unless they complied. Within a week, however, vociferous European resistance had led him to retract that threat at the Davos economic summit, claiming he was satisfied with NATO’s offer of a “framework of a future deal.”
On February 28, 2026, with his tariff initiative failing and his Greenland gambit checkmated, Trump joined Israel in a seemingly bold strike on Iran that soon had the makings of the sort of fateful “micro-military” maneuver that appears to go with imperial powers in decline.
In the first few days of war, US and Israeli bombing killed Iran’s leadership, destroyed its navy, and eliminated its air defenses, leaving the country seemingly prostrate before the might of America’s air-power juggernaut. After a week of devastating bombardment that seemed to stun the world with its lethality and precision, on March 6 Trump demanded that Iran offer an “unconditional surrender” and signal its capitulation by “the selection of a GREAT & ACCEPTABLE Leader.” In exchange, he promised that the US would “work tirelessly to bring Iran back from the brink of destruction.”
But much as Nasser had done at Suez in 1956, Iran’s leadership reversed the war’s geostrategic balance by closing a critical maritime choke point in the Strait of Hormuz. By striking five freighters with drones in the first week of war, Iran’s leaders, taking a leaf from Nasser’s geopolitical playbook, effectively shut the Strait of Hormuz to tanker traffic, cutting off gas, fertilizer, and oil shipments that plunged the world economy into an unprecedented energy crisis. By the end of March, Iran’s choke hold over the strait was so tight that it began collecting “tolls” from freighters to permit passage.
Blindsided by the strait’s unexpected yet utterly predictable closure, on April 5, Easter Sunday, an unsettled Trump posted a social media message saying: “Tuesday will be Power Plant Day, and Bridge Day, all wrapped up in one, in Iran. There will be nothing like it!!!” He added: “Open the Fuckin’ Strait, you crazy bastards, or you’ll be living in Hell—JUST WATCH. Praise be to Allah.” Two days later, Trump threatened that, unless Iran opened the Strait of Hormuz, he would attack its civilian infrastructure so severely that “a whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again.”
After the collapse of subsequent negotiations between the two sides at Islamabad, Pakistan, on April 12, Trump plunged ever deeper into the Iran quagmire, ordering the US Navy to “begin the process of BLOCKADING any and all Ships trying to enter, or leave, the Strait of Hormuz,” and “interdict every vessel in International Waters that has paid a toll to Iran.” With characteristic bluster, he added: “We are fully ‘LOCKED AND LOADED,’ and our Military will finish up the little that is left of Iran!”
Even if Trump destroys Iran’s infrastructure or eventually negotiates a face-saving peace deal, by every metric that really matters, Washington has already lost its war with Iran. Like all weaker powers in asymmetric warfare, Tehran has been willing to absorb relentless punishment, while inflicting pain that the dominant power can ill sustain. The US will soon run out of targets in Tehran, but Iran has a whole world of damage that its cheap drones can do to the elaborate, exposed petroleum infrastructure on the south shore of the Persian Gulf.
Like Britain at Suez in 1956, Washington will likely pay a heavy price for its “micro-militarism” in the Strait of Hormuz. Close allies, the bedrock of US global power for 80 years, have refused any military support for Washington’s war of choice, prompting Trump to call them “cowards.” In response to his thundering threats of civilian and civilizational destruction (both war crimes), Trump has been condemned by world leaders. Oblivious to the dangers of war in a region that is the epicenter of global capitalism, Washington is now proving ever more dangerously disruptive of the global economy, making China look like a far more stable choice for world leadership. Moreover, while the US military has proven its tactical agility in destroying targets, it clearly can no longer capture meaningful strategic objectives.
With its alliances in tatters, its world leadership forfeited, and its aura of military might evaporating, the only trajectory for US global hegemony now seems to be downward (like so many great powers of the past). By the time Trump’s micro-military misadventure in the Strait of Hormuz is over, the decline of US global power will have accelerated drastically and the world will be trying to move beyond the old Pax Americana toward a new, distinctly uncertain global order.
"Even though the US has no ancient empire, it now claims to represent the 'West' and uses European history to justify its brutal military aggression on the Iranian nation," said a spokesperson for Iran's Foreign Ministry.
As President Donald Trump and his allies invoke the conquests of ancient empires to justify waging war across the Middle East, a leading Iranian diplomat says they have adopted a "fascist mindset."
"Even though the US has no ancient empire, it now claims to represent the 'West' and uses European history to justify its brutal military aggression on the Iranian nation," wrote Esmaeil Baqaei, the spokesperson for Iran's Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in a post to social media Tuesday.
The regional war launched at the end of February by the US and Israel has entailed numerous attacks on civilian infrastructure, including schools, hospitals, residential areas, and water and energy facilities in Iran and Lebanon.
The US-based Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA) said on Tuesday that at least 1,598 civilians have been killed in Iran, including 244 children. The Lebanese Health Ministry said on Wednesday that at least 1,318 people had been killed since Israel began its assault on Lebanon, including 125 children.
As Baqaei pointed out, multiple figures in Trump's orbit have justified the carnage by portraying the war as an existential conflict of civilizations.
He referenced a comment made by former Trump chief strategist Steve Bannon, who is now one of MAGA World's most popular podcasters.
In a recent episode of Bannon's War Room show, he called for "total war" against Iran and said the US was "gonna go back and redo what Alexander the Great did 2,300 years ago."
STEVE BANNON: If we're gonna go to war, let's go to total war. And what I mean by total war, let's shut down everybody trading with them. Let's go to UAE and say, hey, you’ve got like two hours to go to Dubai and shut it all down. The Pirate Cove in Dubai. Gotta stop. We gotta… pic.twitter.com/t4xDqSmCS5
— Bannon’s WarRoom (@Bannons_WarRoom) March 28, 2026
Bannon was referring to the Macedonian general's famous invasion of Persia in 330 BCE. Alexander's conquest, which led to the absorption of Persia, was carried out with historic brutality—from the mass killing, displacement, and enslavement of countless people to the razing of entire cities like Persepolis and Tyre.
Similarly, Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC), perhaps the most vocal proponent of a full-scale invasion of Iran, asserted on Fox News Sunday that with overwhelming military might, the US could end a “2,000-year-long conflict,” as if to imply that the modern hostilities between the West and Iran are ancient and intractable when they are actually less than 50 years old.
"Such distorted historical references are revealingly similar to Nazi and fascist thinking," Baqaei said, pointing to the German and Italian dictators Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini.
"Adolf Hitler justified invading other countries by invoking 'Lebensraum' and praising the Roman Empire," he said. "Mussolini used the glory of the Roman Empire to excuse his aggressions in North Africa."
Baqaei's comments also come as Israel has launched a ground invasion of southern Lebanon, which it has suggested will result in an indefinite occupation. Defense Minister Israel Katz has described plans to fully demolish Lebanese villages adjacent to Israel's border without allowing displaced residents to return.
The New York Times reported on Wednesday that Israeli officials are also privately discussing plans to press Lebanon's Christian and Druse communities to "force out any Lebanese from neighboring Shiite Muslim communities who have sought refuge among them as Israeli bombardments flatten Shiite towns.”
Some figures in Israel's growingly influential far-right have described the conquest of Lebanon as part of a broader project to establish "Greater Israel," which would expand the nation's territory to neighboring states across the Middle East and clear out local populations to be colonized by Jewish settlers.
The expansionist vision, and the accelerating violent displacement of Palestinians in the West Bank by Israeli settlers, has been described by critics as an eerie parallel to the Nazi goal of creating "Lebensraum" by pushing out or killing ethnic groups viewed as racially inferior, particularly Jews, in order to create "living space" for Germans.
Portrayals of the war in Iran as a civilizational clash are omnipresent among Trump's closest allies. Some, like Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, portray it as part of a holy "crusade" by Christendom against the Muslim world. Others like White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt have described it as a war to defend "Western civilization" from "brutal terrorists" who want to destroy it.
Baqaei said, however, that comments lionizing the war as a renewal of bloody old-world conquest are "reviving" a "dangerous pre-World War II fascist mindset—torpedoing the very modern values of human rights and international law the West claims to stand for."
"War fans say that whatever gets destroyed, someone will build a better one later," said one Iranian scholar. "Fine, go ahead and build a new Golestan Palace, a new Chehel Sotun, and a new Taq-e Bostan too."
In addition to killing and injuring thousands of Iranians, the US-Israeli war in Iran is bringing ruin upon some of the oldest and most cherished historical landmarks in the world.
Several centuries-old locations, designated as World Heritage sites by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), have suffered damage from bombings since the US and Israel launched the war on February 28. As UNESCO noted last week, these sites are protected under multiple statutes in international law.
"Iran is home to one of the richest concentrations of historical sites on Earth, representing civilizations that stretch from the Elamites and Achaemenid Persians to Islamic dynasties and modern Iran," wrote Haley Fuller for Military.com on Wednesday.
"Iran contains dozens of sites recognized by the international community as having 'outstanding universal value,'" she said. "The country currently has nearly 30 locations listed as UNESCO World Heritage sites, including ancient cities, monumental architecture, and archaeological landscapes spanning thousands of years."
UNESCO said that it has communicated the coordinates of protected sites to all parties in the conflict, including Israel. Iranian authorities, meanwhile, had already begun marking important historical sites with the internationally recognized Blue Shield symbol, established in the 1954 Hague Convention to designate protected areas. But several have still been attacked.
According to multiple local reports, as well as photos and videos posted to social media, an Israeli airstrike on Monday shattered windows, scattered debris, and broke doors at the Chehel Sotoun Palace and other sites within the 17th-century Naqsh-e-Jahan Square in the city of Isfahan.
The city was the capital of Persia under the Safavid dynasty from 1501-1736, and it boasts some of the country's most significant works of architecture and art. The Israeli military was reportedly targeting the governor’s building, which sits near the square.
"Chehel Sotoun is renowned for its extensive frescoes depicting historical battles, royal receptions, and scenes from Persian mythology, which are among the largest, most unique examples of Persianate painting," wrote Sarvy Geranpayeh in a report for The Art Newspaper.
While most of the site's interior paintings survived the attack, provincial officials said the site's famous mirror-work decorations were damaged, and a 17th-century fresco depicting the Iranian Safavid ruler Shah Tahmasp and the Indian Mughal Humayun sustained a large crack.
Several other buildings in the square also took damage, Geranpayeh reported:
Authorities reported that the 17th-century Ali Qapu Palace had its doors and windows shattered, while the 17th-century Jame Abbasi Mosque, also known as Shah Mosque, sustained damage to sections of its iconic turquoise and calligraphic tiles...
Several other sites within the Safavid-era Dawlatkhaneh complex also reportedly suffered damage. These include the 17th-century Rakeb-Khaneh pavillion (House of the Jockey), originally built to store the equestrian equipment and harnesses of the royal stables, Ashraf Hall, a highly decorative residential structure associated with the Safavid court, and the nearby 15th-century Teymouri Hall, a Timurid-era building later converted into the Natural History Museum.
A previous attack on March 1, the second day of the war, caused damage to the only designated UNESCO World Heritage site in Tehran, the Golestan Palace, which is more than 400 years old.
Geranpayeh reported that the building was left "strewn with debris, its windows blown out and its distinctive mirror and glasswork damaged."
Some of the architecture that has come under attack is even older. On March 8, Israeli strikes on Khorramabad reportedly damaged the structures surrounding the Falak-ol-Aflak Castle, which is more than 1,800 years old, dating back to the Sassanid Empire in the 3rd century.
The US Committee of the Blue Shield, an international organization tasked with protecting heritage sites in times of war and crisis, said it was “disturbed” by the United States' expressions of disregard for the laws of war.
The committee drew attention to comments made by US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth last week that “America, regardless of what so-called international institutions say, is unleashing the most lethal and precise air power campaign in history... All on our terms with maximum authority. No stupid rules of engagement.”
According to the Iranian Red Crescent Society, more than 19,000 civilian buildings have been damaged since the war began less than two weeks ago, including hospitals, residential buildings, and schools.
One attack, reportedly by the US, on a girls' school in Minab on the first day of the war, resulted in the slaughter of around 175 people, mostly children ages 7-12. According to the World Health Organization more than 1,300 people have been killed and 9,000 injured in total since February 28.
“The failure to observe international humanitarian law, including numerous international conventions to which the US is a state party, as well as customary international law, can lead to the commission of war crimes," the US Blue Shield Committee said. It added that this disregard extends to cultural sites as well.
"The destruction of cultural heritage is irreversible. It erases identity, history, and the shared memory of civilizations," the committee said. "No military or political objective justifies the willful or negligent destruction of humanity’s common inheritance. Such destruction is also one of the actions that can make returning to a state of peace more difficult."
According to a New York Times report on Wednesday, the destruction of culturally important sites has only heightened the anger Iranians feel as their country has fallen under attack.
"War fans say that whatever gets destroyed, someone will build a better one later," Mojtaba Najafi, a prominent Iranian scholar and researcher, said in a post to social media.
"Fine, go ahead and build a new Golestan Palace, a new Chehel Sotun, and a new Taq-e Bostan too," he continued, referring to another site which came under threat from US airstrikes on Iranian nuclear facilities in June 2025.
“For me, ancient monuments are as important as human lives, because they connect me to my past,” Najafi said. “And their destruction means my memory is being demolished."
"The message is clear. American history no longer includes all Americans."
The city of Philadelphia has sued the US Department of the Interior and the National Park Service after officials were filmed dismantling exhibits on slavery at the President's House historical site at Independence Park on Thursday.
The lawsuit, filed in federal court by the office of Mayor Cherelle Parker, says “the National Park Service has removed artwork and informational displays" from the site, where George Washington lived as president from 1790 until 1797, in order to follow an executive order signed by President Donald Trump in March, which requires national parks, museums, and monuments to portray an "uplifting" message about American history.
The President's House monument, unveiled in 2010, contained information about nine enslaved people whom Washington brought with him to the nation's "first White House," and Washington's history as a slaveowner. By the time of his death in 1799, there were more than 300 enslaved people at his estate in Mount Vernon, Virginia.
Information about the President's House site and its ties to slavery still remains online. It states:
Washington brought some of his enslaved Africans to this site and they lived and toiled with other members of his household during the years that our first president was guiding the experimental development of the young nation toward modern, republican government...
The president's house in the 1790s was a mirror of the young republic, reflecting both the ideals and contradictions of the new nation. The house stood in the shadow of Independence Hall, where the words "All men are created equal" and "We the People" were adopted, but they did not apply to all who lived in the new United States of America.
A monument acknowledging this history, however, appears to have run afoul of the portion of Trump's order requiring the Interior Secretary to see that sites "do not contain descriptions, depictions, or other content that inappropriately disparage Americans past or living."
As BillyPenn.com reported:
Starting after 3 pm, placards were ripped from the wall around the site with crowbars as people walked by, some heading to the Liberty Bell Center. Signs were unbolted from the poles overlooking the dig site where America’s first “White House” had stood until 1832. They were stacked together alongside a wall, and then taken away around 4:30 pm in a park service truck. No indication was provided where the signs and exhibition parts will go
One of the employees, who did not give his name, told the Philadelphia Inquirer that his supervisor had instructed him to take down the monuments earlier that day.
“I’m just following my orders,” the employee repeatedly said.
In a statement to the Washington Post, Interior Department spokesperson Elizabeth Peace later confirmed that the placards were indeed removed in accordance with the order.
"The president has directed federal agencies to review interpretive materials to ensure accuracy, honesty, and alignment with shared national values,” she said. “Following completion of the required review, the National Park Service is now taking action to remove or revise interpretive materials in accordance with the order."
The city of Philadelphia says it was not given notice about the placards being removed. The lawsuit says their removal was "arbitrary and capricious" and says the “defendants have provided no explanation at all for their removal of the historical, educational displays at the President’s House site, let alone a reasoned one."
In a Facebook post, criminal defense attorney Michael Coard, who pushed for the monument's creation for nearly a decade, called its destruction "historically outrageous and blatantly racist."
It is the latest example of Trump's order being used to justify the removal of monuments related to slavery and Black history in the United States.
The infamous 1863 "Scourged Back" image—a picture of an enslaved man's back with severe whip scars that was used to promote the end of slavery during the Civil War—was removed from the Fort Pulaski National Monument in Georgia in September, along with other information about slavery.
The administration has also removed more than 20 displays at the Smithsonian Museum of American History, some of which dealt with slavery, civil rights, and race relations, a move that came after Trump lamented that the museum put so much focus on "how bad Slavery was."
The National Park Service also deleted information about abolitionist activist Harriet Tubman and many references to slavery from its webpage about the Underground Railroad for months last year, before restoring it following public backlash.
Pages on the Arlington Cemetery website that recognize the contributions of Black and Hispanic soldiers have also been removed.
The order has also led to the removal or alteration of numerous monuments, museum exhibits, and web pages recognizing the achievements or struggles of other racial minority groups, women, LGBTQ+ people, and Native Americans.
In a statement to NBC News, Philadelphia City Council President Kenyatta Johnson said, "Removing the exhibits is an effort to whitewash American history."
"History cannot be erased simply because it is uncomfortable," he added. "Removing items from the President’s House merely changes the landscape, not the historical record."
Daniel Pearson, a columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer, said: "The message is clear. American history no longer includes all Americans."
History is protected by those who collect, preserve, and share the facts.
We are living through a period of profound uncertainty and systemic challenge—where erasure of truth and history is not only possible, but actively underway.
As a librarian, I bear witness not only to the crisis but to the opportunity: History is protected by those who collect, preserve, and share the facts, and the archive becomes a battleground where every saved photograph, flyer, email, playlist, program, and story is an act of resistance.
Let this be painfully clear: The future will only remember what is preserved today, and the choice is between standing by as stories are diluted or destroyed—or fighting for the record, for the archive, and for the truth with steady, everyday work that anyone can participate in. The war over narrative is here, and ownership of legacy cannot be outsourced, because no one else will know the names, dates, slang, inside jokes, or quiet heroism that define a community’s life.
Sometimes it feels like things are coming apart, and if attention is not paid now, stories—who people are and what has been seen—might disappear for good.
If the caring comes too late, the evidence may already be gone, which is why telling stories and saving the truth matters not just for now but for those who inherit the consequences and possibilities.
The old Jay Z line, “Nobody wins when the family feuds,” lands because silence inside a community becomes absent in the archive, which later becomes absent in the official story, in classrooms, policy, and memory itself.
Are we prepared to wake up only when it is too late, when the consequences directly affect our own families, our block, our congregation, our civic clubs, our schools?
Understand this: It is already impacting daily life, and the fight for story and legacy is happening right now, whether it is acknowledged or not.
History shows that those who seek to erase, distort, or control a people’s story often target libraries, archives, teachers, records, and public forums first.
Even in times of repression, clandestine diaries, underground newsletters, and quietly kept ledgers ensured truths could be reconstructed later, and that same imperative presses upon the present: Document clearly, share responsibly, preserve redundantly, and hold the line until silence cannot take root.
If the caring comes too late, the evidence may already be gone, which is why telling stories and saving the truth matters not just for now but for those who inherit the consequences and possibilities.
Some systems are actively reshaping what counts as “official,” especially where histories of self-defense, mutual aid, organizing, and everyday cultural brilliance live, and if those are not written down, recorded, and stored safely, they can be excluded from the record that shapes future understanding and power.
This is not about one person or one group—it is about building a durable, collective record that includes the messy parts, the small details, the contradictions, and the joy.
Recordkeepers, librarians, archivists, genealogists, teachers, artists, and elders carry a heavy responsibility, but this work is also neighborly, teachable, and doable at kitchen tables, barbershops, churches, community centers, and school hallways.
If there is one takeaway, it is this: If the future matters, start saving things now, even if imperfectly. Write the story, label the photo, date the flyer, back up the voice memo, and share what is known in forms that can travel, be understood, and be retrieved later.
Start small and steady: one labeled photo, one recorded memory, one folder that makes sense to someone else tomorrow, and one backup in a safe place, repeated week after week until a living archive appears.
Because nobody wins if silence is allowed to do the writing, and the time to act is right now so that the record stands, speaks, and protects those who come next.
We must transform this destruction into democracy's gain: proof that citizens armed with law and persistence can check executive excess.
On a cold October morning, heavy equipment commenced destruction of the 123-year-old East Wing of the White House. In place of rooms where presidents rehearsed the words that would steady the nation and First Ladies wrote to grieving families, we are offered glass and spectacle, a ballroom scaled to diminish the original house, a monument to appetite where once stood service. This is not modernization. This is erasure.
The destruction matters because process matters, and process was murdered alongside memory. The 1942 shell that sheltered the nation's continuity in crisis, the offices where Rosalynn Carter pioneered the modern First Lady's role, the theater where words found their gravity before facing the nation: all of it stripped away while the National Capital Planning Commission and the Commission of Fine Arts were reduced to bystanders. What should have triggered months of review, public hearings, and preservation consultation instead became fait accompli, rubble before remedy, demolition before deliberation. When a democracy allows its procedures to be treated as suggestions, it teaches citizens that power makes its own permissions.
Robert Hutchins warned that democracy dies not from ambush but from "apathy, indifference, and undernourishment." We refuse all three. Citizens have stopped juggernauts before. Echo Park Dam died when Americans decided that national parks were inviolate, forcing Congress to abandon a project already funded and designed. Storm King Mountain survived when fishermen and debutantes united to establish that citizens have standing to defend public resources in court. The Lower Manhattan Expressway never broke ground because Jane Jacobs and her neighbors proved that affected communities must be heard before concrete pours. Keystone XL collapsed after a decade of permit fights raised costs beyond what investors would bear. The Atlantic Coast Pipeline terminated when legal challenges made risk exceed reward. Each victory followed a pattern: Meticulous documentation met sustained pressure met escalating costs met political exposure met capitulation. None relied on outrage alone. All transformed fury into filing systems.
The pattern is clear: Documentation plus pressure plus cost plus exposure equals capitulation. But pattern without purpose is merely mimicry. We study these victories not to copy their tactics but to extract their essence: how citizen movements transform government overreach into government retreat. The East Wing lies in rubble, yes, but the larger assault is on process itself, on the idea that democracy requires permission before power acts. Our response must therefore be more than obstruction. It must be construction: building a legal record, a political cost, and a civic precedent that makes this demolition democracy's gain. What follows is not a lamentation but a blueprint, drawn from democracy's past victories and aimed at preservation's future protection.
The house at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue belongs to the people, not to any temporary occupant.
Our objectives cascade from immediate to transformative. First, we halt further destruction through emergency legal action while building an administrative record that compels review. Second, we force full compliance with preservation law, environmental standards, and safety regulations, making each day more expensive than planners imagined. Third, we secure either significant design modifications, meaningful mitigation, or project abandonment, depending on what facts and pressure produce. Fourth, we establish precedents that close the loopholes exploited here, ensuring no future administration can demolish first and explain later. Finally, we transform this destruction into democracy's gain: proof that citizens armed with law and persistence can check executive excess, a template for resistance that travels beyond preservation to every domain where power overreaches. These are not wishes. These are waypoints.
The coalition capable of these transformations already exists in pieces waiting for assembly. Preservation groups have standing under the National Historic Preservation Act when consultation was skipped. Environmental organizations can sue under the National Environmental Policy Act when impacts were ignored. Labor unions can file complaints when workers face exposure to asbestos and other unsafe conditions. Transparency advocates can litigate under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) when records are withheld. Financial accountability groups can pressure investors and insurers as risks rise. Democracy organizations can demand hearings when process is violated. Each group brings expertise, each expertise brings leverage, and leverage compounds when coordinated.
We stand on foundations built by democracy's defenders. The American Civil Liberties Union teaches us to build records that survive judicial scrutiny. Democracy Docket shows how emergency motions can freeze bulldozers. The Brennan Center demonstrates how governance law creates obligations that cannot be waived. Public Citizen proves that regulatory enforcement can accomplish what courts cannot. We are not inventing tactics. We are applying proven methods to fresh outrage.
Implementation begins with paper because paper creates predicates for everything that follows. File FOIA requests at the White House, General Services Administration, National Capital Planning Commission, Commission of Fine Arts, and Secret Service for permits, plans, correspondence, and security assessments. Submit complaints to the District of Columbia Department of Energy and Environment for dust, diesel, and runoff violations. Report safety violations to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration for fall protection, egress, and hazard communication failures. Demand consultation records from the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation and the State Historic Preservation offiecer. Each filing creates a clock, each clock creates a deadline, and deadlines create leverage when authorities must respond or face their own legal exposure. Paper creates the predicate. Money creates the pressure.
Money moves when risk rises, yet the administration hides its financial trail behind claims of private funding and executive privilege. This opacity itself violates federal transparency requirements and becomes our first leverage point. The absence of public contracts, disclosed budgets, and identified funders tells its own story of irregular process. We make risk visible through investigation and exposure. Insurance underwriters for any contractors we identify need documentation of violations gathered through citizen photography, FOIA responses, and whistleblower accounts.
Where specific banks and bonds remain hidden, we target the sector: Construction lenders learn their exposure through public campaigns, surety companies receive notices about federal project requirements, and institutional investors in major construction firms face shareholder resolutions about reputational risk. The secrecy itself becomes the story. Each hidden detail uncovered through investigation gains power precisely because it was concealed. The goal is not harassment but education: ensuring every potential enabler understands that anonymity provides no immunity from liability.
While we work the paper trail and money trail, we must also work the public eye. Visibility amplifies pressure because sunshine remains democracy's best disinfectant. The administration's refusal to allow normal inspections becomes evidence itself. We create our own documentation: photographs with timestamps, videos with metadata, satellite images showing changes, expert affidavits analyzing violations, sworn statements from witnesses. The absence of official oversight makes citizen documentation more powerful, not less. Publish through multiple channels: traditional media for credibility, social media for virality, specialized press for expertise, international outlets for shame. Create narrative continuity: daily violation updates, weekly revelations about hidden funding, monthly progress toward our transparent objectives while theirs remain concealed. Name names carefully but consistently: contractors who continue work, officials who skip process, donors who write checks. Build an archive that becomes the foundation for hearings, litigation, and history. Facts without dissemination die in filing cabinets. Facts with wings become forces.
Democracy's true foundation lies not in buildings but in boundaries that even presidents cannot cross.
Political oversight emerges when documentation meets constituent pressure meets media coverage meets committee jurisdiction. Representatives need specific asks: Democrats on House Oversight should immediately schedule hearings with subpoena power, any member can request Government Accountability Office investigations, senators can place holds on related nominations until answers arrive. Committees need road maps: House Oversight for process violations, Natural Resources for preservation failures, Transportation and Infrastructure for construction oversight, Appropriations for funding questions. Witnesses need assurances of protection: whistleblower attorneys, secure communications, documentation protocols, support networks. Hearings need preparation by committee staff working with preservation organizations, investigative journalists, and citizen groups who've gathered evidence. Politics responds to persistence more than passion. Three constituents calling weekly outweigh 300 signing once.
When documentation and political pressure converge, litigation becomes the hammer. The National Historic Preservation Act requires consultation that clearly did not occur. The National Environmental Policy Act mandates impact assessment that was skipped. The Federal Records Act prohibits destruction of documents that may have disappeared. The Administrative Procedure Act forbids arbitrary and capricious action, which demolition without review exemplifies. Standing exists for preservation groups, neighbors, historians, and arguably any citizen whose heritage was stolen. Remedies range from temporary restraining orders to permanent injunctions to damages to mandamus compelling proper process. Even unsuccessful suits surface documents through discovery, create delay through procedure, and impose costs through defense. The courthouse is not the only venue, but in this era of executive overreach, it often proves the most powerful.
Timeline becomes strategy when pressure synchronizes with opportunity. Phase One establishes the record through mass FOIA filing, safety and environmental complaints, and initial contractor contacts. Phase Two analyzes responses, files initial lawsuits, escalates investor pressure, and builds media narrative. Phase Three seeks preliminary injunctions, holds initial hearings, publishes major investigations, and assesses contractor defections. Phase Four maintains indefinite pressure: enforcing victories, codifying new protections, and preparing for the next assault. Each phase documents every violation and establishes triggers for escalation or negotiation. Success might come quickly through an early injunction or slowly through accumulated costs. The plan adapts, but pressure never releases.
Victory has faces. Minimum victory: Full documentation enters the permanent record, creating evidence for future accountability and prevention. Moderate victory: Design modifications reduce harm, mitigation addresses damage, and public process governs remaining work. Maximum victory: the Project halts, redesign respects history, and those responsible face consequences. Transformative victory: New legislation closes loopholes, preservation becomes politically sacred, and citizens discover their power. Any victory beats surrender. Every victory builds toward the next. The measure is not whether we restore every stone but whether we establish that stones cannot be removed without permission.
This is how disasters become democratic gains. The house at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue belongs to the people, not to any temporary occupant. Memory is the mortgage we have never missed, the deed we will never surrender. When dawn brought rubble where history stood, it also brought clarity: A republic that allows process to be optional will soon find democracy optional too. We answer not with violence or vandalism but with the tools democracy provides: transparency that embarrasses, law that constrains, costs that accumulate, and politics that punish. Each violation documented today becomes evidence tomorrow. Each dollar spent on lawyers becomes unavailable for luxuries. Each day delayed is a day democracy wins.
Frederick Douglass knew that "power concedes nothing without a demand." We make that demand through every channel democracy provides. Let those who gamble with our inheritance learn what Echo Park Dam taught, what Storm King Mountain proved, what Keystone XL demonstrated: that citizens armed with facts and law and time can stop anything, that money fears exposure more than regulation, that even presidents must eventually answer to process. The reckoning follows, patient as gravity, certain as memory. Step by careful step, document by document, hearing by hearing, until democracy's antibodies overwhelm this infection. Until those who thought they could build on rubble discover they have built on sand. Until the next demolition crew thinks twice, thinks three times, and thinks better.
John Philpot Curran understood that "the condition upon which God hath given liberty to man is eternal vigilance." That vigilance begins here, with this violation, with this response. Restore sequence. Restore sunlight. Restore the understanding that in a republic, the people's house requires the people's permission. Not for aesthetics. Not for nostalgia. For the principle that process precedes power, that memory matters more than monuments, that democracy's true foundation lies not in buildings but in boundaries that even presidents cannot cross. This is how we turn catastrophe into catalyst. This is how the resistance remembers how to resist. This is how democracy proves it deserves to survive.
The White House said it would expand its review of museums' historical content to other institutions after it holds the Smithsonian "accountable."
A week after the White House announced it was examining the Smithsonian museums' exhibits to ensure they align with President Donald Trump's own "interpretation of American history," the president on Tuesday said the publicly funded museum system is "out of control" and contains materials that are overly negative about one of the most significant aspects of U.S. history: chattel slavery and its legacy.
"Everything discussed is how horrible our Country is, how bad Slavery was, and how unaccomplished the downtrodden have been—Nothing about Success, nothing about Brightness, nothing about the Future," said the president on his social media platform, Truth Social.
Trump's comments came days after Russell Vought, director of the White House Office of Management and Budget, sent a letter to the Smithsonian—which includes 21 museums, 14 educational centers, and a zoo—ordering officials at eight of its museums to turn over information about exhibits that are being planned to commemorate the United States' 250th anniversary next year.
The officials were given 120 days to adjust the "tone, historical framing, and alignment with American ideals" to match the administration's view of history—which, judging from Trump's comments, doesn't include the history of how Black Americans were impacted by enslavement, despite the fact that Republicans at the party's 2020 national convention claimed credit for abolishing the practice.
"Anyone who thinks there’s ANYTHING GOOD about enslaving human beings has no business running ANY country… much less the world's most influential democracy," said U.S. Rep. Jim McGovern (D-Mass.) in response to Trump's comments.
The White House also pushed the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History this month to remove references to the president's two impeachment trials—once for pressuring Ukraine to investigate his political opponents and once for inciting his followers to attack the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021.
"Anyone who thinks there's ANYTHING GOOD about enslaving human beings has no business running ANY country… much less the world's most influential democracy."
In May, NBC News reported that after Trump issued his executive order demanding the Smithsonian take down exhibits that he claimed "divide Americans based on race," officials removed at least 32 artifacts from the National Museum of African American History and Culture, including a hymn book owned by Harriet Tubman, a former slave who later fought for the abolishment of the institution.
The White House told NBC News Tuesday that Trump plans to hold the Smithsonian "accountable" and "then go from there," expanding his review of museums to other institutions.
In his post at Truth Social Tuesday, Trump said his attorneys will "go through the Museums, and start the exact same process that has been done with Colleges and Universities where tremendous progress has been made"—a reference to the pressure the White House has placed on universities including Columbia and Harvard to suppress academic freedom and curb free speech.
The administration has pushed some schools to end diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives while coercing hundreds of millions of dollars in settlement payments.
Presidential historian Douglas Brinkley told The New York Times Tuesday that it was "the epitome of dumbness to criticize the Smithsonian for dealing with the reality of slavery in America."
"It's what led to our Civil War and is a defining aspect of our national history," said Brinkley. "And the Smithsonian deals in a robust way with what slavery was, but it also deals with human rights and civil rights in equal abundance."
Cornell William Brooks, a professor at Harvard, warned that "the SAME propaganda that said slavery wasn't so bad allowed people to feel so good about lynchings they mailed thousands of postcards" showing people who were lynched at public gatherings.
"My enslaved ancestors were kidnapped to South Carolina and subsequently beaten, raped, and humiliated," said Brooks. "'Brightness' is IN the history. Read the slavery narratives, talk to some Black people, OR just visit our powerful Smithsonian museums."
When those who seek to help resolve a conflict are captive to one side’s definitions and perspective, it’s a recipe for continued tension and ultimately disaster.
Our understanding of an historical event’s meaning is a function of two factors. The first is what we choose to identify as the starting point leading up to the event. The second is the lens through which we view it. This should be obvious, but unfortunately it is not, and the failure to acknowledge or understand it has consequences in everything from public policy to personal relationships.
This truth can be ignored due to thoughtlessness, blindness to one’s biases, or just plain ignorance. On some occasions there can be malign intent, including efforts to deliberately hide what one knows to be an event’s antecedents for political or personal reasons.
Before examining the issue that prompted this column, I want to share an example. The comedian Dick Gregory once noted that despite what we were taught in school, “Columbus didn’t discover America, because it wasn’t lost.” His point seems simple enough, but upon closer examination it reveals deeper truths.
“Columbus discovered America” erases the history, civilization, and contributions of the Indigenous groups who populated the lands that Europeans came to call the New World. Even the term “New World” was a thinly veiled masking of their imperial self-understanding and intent. “We discovered these lands, and they are ours to take, name, and exploit.”
U.S. reporters appear to be required to include a line in their stories that reads, “The hostilities began on October 7, 2023, when Hamas militants attacked Israel killing 1,200 and taking 250 hostages.”
The American history we were taught was an extension of European history. It began with Columbus. Then moved to the Spanish, British, and French colonialists, culminating in the Revolutionary War and the birth of the United States. The native peoples were treated as bit players in the unfolding story—at times, a footnote, at others an inconvenient obstacle.
This story of American history results from choosing Columbus as the starting point and using a lens so Eurocentric that it only sees the Indigenous peoples who populated this land as less than human and therefore less deserving of defining their own history or even remaining on their land. They were removed and massacred, their humanity was ignored, and their treatment was justified because they were of less worth than the Europeans who displaced them.
This reflection was prompted by the way Israel’s war on Gaza continues to be reported in the press and discussed in policy circles. U.S. reporters appear to be required to include a line in their stories that reads, “The hostilities began on October 7, 2023, when Hamas militants attacked Israel killing 1,200 and taking 250 hostages.” It isn’t accidental that this line (or something very close to it) occurs in almost every U.S. print story.
We all must agree that what happened on October 7 was traumatic for Israelis. It was a shock that their security was breached and that some horrible and condemnable atrocities were committed by Hamas and others who joined in their attacks. But history didn’t begin or end on October 7.
Recall that just a few weeks before that the Hamas attack, then-U.S. President Joe Biden’s national security adviser noted that the Middle East was the calmest it had been in years. This statement gave short shrift to the Palestinian reality and made clear the biased lens through which he saw the region. He was ignoring Israel’s continued economic strangulation of Gaza (which made Palestinians increasingly dependent on Israel or Hamas for their livelihood) and the growing threat of settler violence, settlement expansion, and land confiscations in the West Bank and East Jerusalem.
A few weeks after October 7, I met with this same individual and listened to him describe the pain and fear of Israelis and how October 7 evoked the traumas of their history. I told him that I completely understood and agreed that Hamas stood rightly condemned for what they had done. I cautioned him, however, not to ignore the trauma of the Palestinians—their pain and fears—and their history of dispossession. He became angry, waving off my comments as “what aboutism.”
As the weeks and months wore on, when I would write a comment about: the growing Palestinian civilian casualty toll; or the bombing of hospitals; or the denial of water, food, medicine, and electricity; or the deliberate destruction of more than 70% of Gaza’s buildings; and the repeated forced expulsions of families—the responses I would receive invariably included “Hamas started it,” “What about the hostages,” or worse. In other words, Israeli lives were all that mattered. And the Israeli narrative became the only acceptable one. In other words, since the story began on October 7, what followed was a justifiable response.
The Israelis’ ability to control the narrative has long characterized the conflict. They would say: “The Balfour Declaration gave Israel a legal right to Palestine”; or “In 1948, tiny Israel was attacked by all surrounding Arab armies”; or “In 1967 Israel was only defending itself.” All of these Israeli-defined “starting points” are fictions that ignore everything that led up to them and the stories they tell are seen only through the biased lens of those who have imposed them.
This problem of false narratives based on biased histories isn’t just a problem for Israel or the U.S. It is unfortunately all too common, especially in conflict situations. When those who seek to help resolve a conflict are captive to one side’s definitions and perspective, it’s a recipe for continued tension and ultimately disaster.
Peacemaking requires that an effort be made to rise above false narratives, self-serving starting points and the biased perceptions of one or another side. That’s not “what-aboutism”—it’s leadership. And it’s been sorely lacking in the U.S.
A range of voices continue to demand the return of the island's looted treasures from private and public venues, including the British Museum in London.
When the small statues of a 3,000-year-old Bronze Age priestess and her archer protector take the stage at a Christie's auction next week in London, the Nurnet nonprofit organization in Sardinia plans to make their own bid to bring the sacred bronze pieces back home.
Despite decades of protests against the sale of the island's patrimony, where thousands of UNESCO-recognized Nuragic tower complexes attest to Sardinia's central role in the Mediterranean Sea during the Bronze Age, 2,000 years before the rise of the Roman Empire, a range of voices continue to demand the return of the island's looted treasures from private and public venues, including the British Museum in London.
"We think that the purchase could be of interest to the entire Sardinian community of enthusiasts," the all-volunteer organization Nurnet said in a statement, in launching a GoFundMe campaign for the auction. °The institutions do not have regulations that allow them to intervene in the short term and allocate the funds. We decided to intervene, with the savings of the members and the help of enthusiasts."
The history of Sardinia, especially the extraordinary findings from its Nuragic civilization in the Bronze Age, remains in a state of eternal recovery.
The Sardinian group successfully purchased four bronze pieces in 2015 at a similar auction, and then donated them to a local museum.
Last week, in fact, the Monte Prama Fondation, which has recently gained international attention for its 50-year restoration of massive stone giant sculptures from the Bronze Age, called on the British Museum to repatriate thousands of ancient Punic gold jewelry and Nuragic items that had been notoriously raided in the 19th century.
Despite the massive hoard of artifacts, which have been documented in various reports and a 270-page book, only a handful are on display at the London museum, while the rest have remained in storage for over a century.
While the British Museum Act of 1963 forbids the return of artifacts obtained by the institution, critics point to the museum's ability to "loan" their treasures back to the host country.
"Returning the bronzetti," Nurnet pointed out, "is also a way to tell a beautiful Sardinia story, to bring this work of art back to domu sua," the Sardinian language for "home."
For Nurnet advocates and other Sardinian groups, the extraordinary detective work of a Sardinian policeman and actions of the Cleveland Museum could serve as an example for the British Museum and other institutions.
In fact, the bronze priestess on sale at Christie's next week shares a common origin—the shadowy Switzerland art market in the 1990s.
On a recent trip to the Ferruccio Berreca Archaeological Museum in Sant'Antioco, I visited a small bronze archer in a glass case, straddling the piece of stone, with two long unwieldy horns thrusting up on his helmet, as if challenging anyone to a charge. Yet, this miniature figure in bronze, a little over eight inches tall, which was tall for the rest of the pieces in the Bronze Age collection, stood there with a gesture of confidence, his hand outstretched in an offering, as if willing to tell the story of his twisted journey.
Centuries before Homer composed The Odyssey, the Sardinians cast miniature bronzes or bronzetti, including ships, among hundreds of other types of bronze pieces. They were vessels of stories. Found mainly in sacred water temples or a rare tomb, they served as exquisite votive offerings dating back to the 12th or 11th centuries B.C.
In 1865, a shepherd uncovered a trove of bronzetti at the Nuragic sanctuary site of Abini in the heart of the central mountains, including an otherworldly figure with four arms and four eyes, with two long horns jutting from its helmet, holding the two round shields that some associated with the ancient Shardana or "People of the Sea" that arrived in Egypt, while others believed it referred to Plato's Symposium on the original four-eyed humans divided in half by Zeus.
These tiny artifacts, often no more than 5-12 inches, spread across sacred sites on the island, including the most remote uplands, and then crossed over the sea into Etruscan tombs, at numerous sites in Tuscany, Lazio, and Apuglia. They journeyed along the Italian boot of civilizations, entering the Greek Sanctuary of Hera Lacinia at the tip of Calabria, on the Ionian Sea, on the eastern coast of Italy.
Each one of these boats, like the hundreds that remained behind in Sardinia, observed archaeologist Fulvia Lo Schiavo, was "not only a work of refined artistic craftsmanship and a precious and sacred object," but it was also "in itself a story and a message," following its own cosmology and narrative.
The Cleveland Museum had hailed one bronzetti figure as an "exceptionally fine example" of bronze work in the lost-wax method, produced by "a rather mysterious group of people who lived in Sardinia in the first millennium B.C. and who left no written records." In the catalog of their notable acquisitions in 1991, the American museum dated the artifact back to the ninth century B.C. They called it "the warrior," and used it as the logo for a section in the museum.
Anyone in Sardinia would have called it "the archer," given the extraordinary longbow hanging off the shoulder of the figure, the distinctive arm guard on the left forearm, a quiver for the arrows on his back. At least, that's what Lieutenant Roberto Lai thought when he saw the Polaroid photo of the bronze figure for the first time. Serving with the heritage protection unit of the Carabiniere police, Lai had been placed in charge of sorting through a treasure trove of documents and artifacts traced to a notorious trafficker of art in Basel, Switzerland in the mid-1990s.
Thanks to two strange, fatal car crashes in Sardinia over a 10-year period, both of which left behind briefcases of cash, diaries with addresses of clandestine diggers and their contacts, and a chart of acquisitions, Lai was able to connect the dots with the infamous Swiss brigand and his warehouse.
Turning over the photo of the archer, Lai got the surprise of a lifetime. "Grutt'e Acqua" was scrawled across the back, tracing the piece to its origins at the 1500 B.C. Nuragic site on the smaller island of Sant'Antioco, where Lai had grown up. It was neither "mysterious," that fulsome code word often trotted out to cover a lack of historical inquiry, nor legally acquired, in Lai's view.
Lai knew the legacy of the nuraghe at Grutt'e Acqua or Grutti 'e Acqua, variously translated as "the grottoes of water," or "the grottoes and water," was not just a pile of rocks, but an intricate architectural wonder of waterways and millennial planning. But he wasn't alone.
The tomb raider also knew, like any shepherd in Sardinia, that the ornate water temples or sacred wells nearby housed the bronze sculptures that had been left as communal offerings. Trudging up my same path, the raider most likely bypassed the Nuragic reservoir that sat at the basin of the hill, a green pool encased by small boulders with the mystic air of a lake in the woods.
"Electrified" by the discovery of the photo and its connection to his island, Lai followed the trail left by the trafficker, his Polaroid in hand, only to come up empty-handed with its match to any institution or collector. Where had the archer gone? No final receipts of his transactions were to be found. The cultural heritage detective didn't give up. Over the next few years, he obsessively dug through any announcements or catalogs or listings at museums, auctions, and private collections with artifacts from Sardinia and Italy. The collections were endless. They still are today.
An entire book on ancient Sardinian artifacts behind lock and key at the British Museum dated back to "boatloads" of "very remarkable" items that had been plundered at 36 tombs in the 1850s. Much of it came from the Tharros and Mont'e Prama areas. The British Museum had its own Sardinian archer, too, though he dramatically drew back his arrow, as if to protect himself. The Getty Museum in Los Angeles featured its Nuragic archer, though it differed in the details. In 1990, The New York Times featured a show at the Merrin Gallery in New York City: "Bronzes Conjure Up Images of a Fabled Past." It included the "raw power" of a Nuragic priest from the ninth century B.C. (The Merrin Gallery would be embroiled in fraud and the acquisition of "questionable antiquities" for years.)
In fact, hardly any major archaeological museum didn't have artifacts from the Bronze Age in Sardinia. While Christie's famous auction house once called off a million-dollar auction for a 4,000-year-old stone carving from the island in 2014, after the Italian police objected to the "robbery of the heritage and civilization of Sardinia," it still continues to peddle Sardinian bronzes. One five-inch Nuragic figure from the Bronze Age went for $125,000 in 2017. It also came from a private dealer in Switzerland.
The trafficking of these prized pieces, among other riches, was an old tradition, of course, dating back to the Roman period. In 1365, the governor of Cagliari brought ancient jewels dug up from a prehistoric site to the Court of Spain, as an elaborate offering from the island. The honeycombing of ruins was so bad that a law was passed in 1481 to stop the digging for treasure, especially among the clergy.
Not just for jewels. By the mid-16th century, a common proverb recounted how the stone walls of the Nuragic, Phoenician, and Roman city of Tharros were "transported away in cartloads." In 1851, the pioneering archeologist and clergyman Giovanni Spano called on government officials to protect the prehistoric sites, which he feared had fallen into the hands of "other people who will not know how to appreciate them."
In 1923, National Geographic magazine lamented the national pasttime of tomb raiders and archaeological thieves in Sardinia, as if the craze hadn't let up. Even the Nazis craved Sardinian artifacts. During a visit to the island in the late 1930s, Adolf Hitler's deputy Hermann Göering attempted to take a priceless glass-beaded necklace that had been recently excavated at a Punic necropolis dating to 300 B.C.
One evening, scrolling online, doing his usual regimen of going museum by museum, the Sardinian detective landed on the Cleveland Museum of Art site. He was stunned by the match. It was the archer in his Polaroid.
It took 18 months of high-level negotiations, including the involvement of the attorney general in Ohio, but the Sardinians managed to convince the American museum to return the stolen artifact. In exchange, in fact, the Italian government had to agree to two conditions: that the archer, among other stolen goods, would be returned to its native place, and that Italy would loan 13 exhibits of similar value for the next 25 years.
When the archer finally arrived at the Ferruccio Barreca Archaeological Museum in Sant'Antioco in 2009, Lai stood by for its installation. The archer's placement in that little glass case was deceiving with its significance. The detective would eventually write a book, as well as a graphic novel, on the true crime adventure, as well as other histories of Sant'Antioco. Lai declared the Nuragic archer had returned to "where history had placed it."
Or recovered it, perhaps. Just like the Nurnet effort today with the bronze figures at the Christie's auction.
In effect, their campaign amounts to a new trend that should be called "restorative archaeology." In a period of cultural revival, it speaks to the process of "re-storying" the island and its history.
Meanwhile, the history of Sardinia, especially the extraordinary findings from its Nuragic civilization in the Bronze Age, remains in a state of eternal recovery.
At least until tomb raiders, and institutions like the British Museum, follow the example of the Cleveland Museum.
The Trump administration is functionally acting to rewrite the prevailing narratives of our past—a past of progress toward equal rights, fact-based education, and lessons learned from mistakes and achievements.
In these first 100-plus days of the nation’s 47th presidency, President Donald Trump and his sidekick Elon Musk have cast a frightful spell over the country. As if brandishing wands from inside their capes—poof!—offices and their employees, responsibilities and aims, norms and policies have simply disappeared. The two have decreed a flurry of acts of dismantlement that span the government, threatening to disappear a broad swath of what once existed, much of it foreshadowed by Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s blueprint for drastically reorganizing and even dismantling government as we know it during a second Trump administration.
To my mind, the recent massive removals of people, data, photos, and documents remind me of the words of Czech novelist Milan Kundera in his classic novel The Book of Laughter and Forgetting: “The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.”
By the middle of March, the new administration had already eliminated dozens of departments and offices, as well as thousands of staff positions, with the supposed goal of “government efficiency.” Buyouts, layoffs, reassignments, and a flurry of resignations by those who preferred not to continue working under the new conditions all meant the elimination of tens of thousands of government workers—more than 121,000, in fact, across 30 agencies. The affected agencies included the Department of Energy, Veterans Affairs, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and the Internal Revenue Service, as well as multiple offices within Health and Human Services, including the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), and the National Institutes of Health. The Department of Education lost nearly half its staff. And then there was the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID). By the end of March, the administration had closed its offices and reduced its staff from approximately 10,000 personnel to 15.
The gutting of such offices and their employees is—I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn—expected to cripple significant government services. At the Department of Education, for example, billions of dollars of institutional aid as well as student loans will be affected. Cuts at the Office of Veterans Affairs, which faced one of the largest staff reductions, are predicted to deprive veterans and their families of healthcare services. USAID’s end will cut programs that addressed poverty, food insecurity, drug trafficking, and human trafficking globally. At the Department of Health and Human Services, the availability of vaccines, the tracking of infectious diseases, and all too much more are threatened and could, according to the executive director of the American Public Health Association, “totally destroy the infrastructure of the nation’s public health system.”
But, as novelist Kundera reminds us, the toll won’t just be to government officials and the positions they’re leaving in the dust of history. The cuts also include a full-scale attack on the past.
As part and parcel of this bureaucratic house-clearing, an unprecedented attack on the records of government agencies has been taking place. Basic facts and figures, until recently found on government websites, are now gone. As I wandered the Internet researching this article, such websites repeatedly sent back this bland but grim message: “The page you’re looking for was not found.”
Many of the deletions of facts and figures have been carried out in the name of the aggressive anti-DEI stance of this administration. As you’ll undoubtedly recall, in the first days of his second term in office, Donald Trump declared DEI programs to be “illegal” and ordered the elimination of all DEIA (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility) “policies, programs, preferences, and activities in the Federal Government, under whatever name they appear.” A Pentagon spokesperson then tried to explain such acts this way: “History is not DEI.”
The assault on the facts and figures of the past includes an adamant refusal to keep records for the future.
And indeed, at the Pentagon’s website, at least 26,000 portraits, ranging from a World War II Medal of Honor recipient to the first women to graduate from Marine infantry training, were scheduled for removal in the name of the administration’s anti-DEI agenda. In addition, articles were deleted from the site, including a story on baseball great Jackie Robinson, who had served in World War II, as well as mentions of women and minorities. On the website of Arlington National Cemetery, information about Blacks, Hispanics, and women went missing as well. At the Smithsonian Institution, where Vice President JD Vance was put in charge of the world’s largest museum enterprise, consisting of 21 separate museums and the National Zoo, the mandate similarly became to “remove improper ideology” from those museums, as well as from the education and research centers that its portfolio includes.
Following a storm of protest, some efforts at restoration have occurred, including the material on Jackie Robinson, The Washington Post reports that “the categories ‘African American History,’ ‘Hispanic American History,’ and ‘Women’s History’ no longer appear prominently.” Yet some information and artifacts, officials predict, have been lost forever.
The attack on history is perhaps most strikingly apparent in the disruption of the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), the institution whose mission is precisely to preserve government records. As The Associated Press summed it up, “As the nation’s recordkeeper, the Archives tells the story of America—its founding, breakdowns, mistakes, and triumphs.” The attack on NARA has come in the form of staff reductions, including the firing of the Archivist of the United States and the departure, owing to firings, buyouts, or resignations, of half of that office’s staff. (Remember, NARA was central to the federal criminal case brought against Trump for his alleged mishandling of classified documents, a case which was eventually dismissed.) Notably, the Department of Justice reportedly removed a database which held the details surrounding the charges and convictions that stemmed from the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol.
At USAID, an agency founded more than 60 years ago and now utterly eviscerated, the destruction of past records has been a top-line item. As ProPublica first reported, and other news sources later detailed, employees at USAID were ordered to destroy classified and personnel records. “Shred as many documents first,” the order read, “and reserve the burn bags for when the shredder becomes unavailable or needs a break.” Meanwhile, massive layoffs at the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) are expected to drastically curtail the access of Americans to public records. At the CDC, cuts have included gutting the public records staff (though HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. has claimed that he plans to reverse that).
Perhaps not surprisingly, the assault on the facts and figures of the past includes an adamant refusal to keep records for the future, a tendency that also marked the first Trump administration and has already proved striking in the first 100 days of his second term.
The Signalgate scandal is a case in point. In the group chat held by then-National Security Adviser Mike Waltz on the Signal app, instead of a designated classified communications channel, discussing an imminent attack on Yemen, national security officials communicated classified information outside of approved channels. In addition to violating norms and laws governing communications involving classified information, the fact that the app was set to auto-delete ignored the law that mandates the preservation of official records.
Nor was Signalgate a one-off. Trump administration officials have reportedly taken to using Gmail, while Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) has been relying on Google Docs for the drafting of government documents, in each case attempting to bypass laws regulating the archiving of public records by potentially “failing to preserve all iterations of its drafts as well as comments left on shared documents.”
Of course, the president’s aversion to creating records in the first place long predates the present moment. During his first term, for example, he had a tendency to rip up documents as he saw fit. “He didn’t want a record of anything,” a senior official told The Washington Post. Notably, he refused to have notes taken at several meetings with Russian President Vladimir Putin and, after one encounter with the Russian president at a Group of 20 meeting in Hamburg, Germany, in 2017, he confiscated the interpreter’s notes.
In such an ongoing obliteration of the records of government activities, the violations that have already taken place have essentially rendered the law invisible. The Federal Records Act, as Lawfare reminds us, requires any federal agency to ”make and preserve records containing adequate and proper documentation of the organization, functions, policies, decisions, procedures, and essential transactions of the agency.” And when it comes to presidential records, the Presidential Records Act categorizes them as the property of the United States and requires the president to take “all such steps as may be necessary” to preserve those records.
There is, however, a giant carve-out to that requirement. During his tenure in office, the president can seek to withhold certain records on the grounds that the documents have ceased to have “administrative, historical, informational, or evidentiary value.” In order to make such a decision, however, the president must first consult with the national archivist, a position that at present belongs to the now four-hatted Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who is currently the acting head of the National Security Agency (NSA) and USAID, as well as the National Archives. It’s worth noting that there is no enforcement mechanism in place to address a decision to dispose of documents, or to challenge the legality—or even the wisdom—of such a decision. The law, as one scholar argues, remains essentially “toothless.”
Historians like me are particularly sensitive to the destruction of government records. Archival materials are our bread and butter. Who knows what new information we might find and what new insights we might gain from a fresh look at the letters of John Adams on the eve of the outbreak of the American Revolution or the records of the dissenters in George W. Bush’s administration in the run-up to the War in Iraq? With the new insights that documents and records provide can come new understandings of who we are as a country, what ills our leaders have (or haven’t) addressed, what tragedies might (or might not) have been avoided, what successes might (or might not) have been more likely to come about. In sum, the records of the past hold innumerable lessons that could guide us into a more sustainable and just future.
That documentary record helps—or at least until this fragile moment, helped—us understand the pathways that have brought us here in both moments of glory and times of trouble. The record feeds us, inspires us, and allows us to feed and inspire others. It’s through the telling of history that we have come to understand our collective selves as a nation, our individual selves as actors, and our leaders’ decisions about the future.
Expunging history was an early tactic of the Nazis, who sought to turn the clock back to a time before the French Revolution and its values altered the course of history.
All that is, of course, now changing and the spell cast by the administration’s ongoing destruction of those records, the emptying or altering of the nation’s cache of documents, has been enhanced by another spell—that of suspicion over the contents of what documents remain, based on accusations that the record itself is partisan and tainted, and so deserving of eradication.
For historians and the public we serve, when record-keeping is marred or even annihilated by a political agenda, as is happening today, such acts can carry special interest for scholars of the past. After all, purposeful deletions from and false additions to the historical record offer a truly grim possibility: the creation of what could pass for a new history of this country. As of now, the Trump administration is functionally acting to rewrite the prevailing narratives of our past—a past of progress toward equal rights, fact-based education, and lessons learned from mistakes and achievements. In sum, to alter or erase the historical record amounts to erasing our knowledge of ourselves.
David Corn, in his newsletter Our Land, recently posted a piece entitled “Trump’s War on History.” In it, he quotes George Orwell from his classic dystopian novel 1984: “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.” As Corn points out all too ominously, expunging history was an early tactic of the Nazis, who sought to turn the clock back to a time before the French Revolution and its values altered the course of history. As Corn puts it, for the Nazis, “the animating ideas of the French Revolution, such as liberty, civic equality, and human rights, were to be crushed.”
For Orwell, as for Kundera, owning history with a firm grip is a power of immense consequence, never to be lightly dismissed. Memory and the records that sustain knowledge of the past are essential to humankind’s struggle against the worst sort of naked power grabs, never more so than now.