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For the rest of Germany, the overwhelming majority of whom firmly reject fascism as the future, the mandate is clear: Solidarity Forever!
Upon learning of the landslide electoral triumph of a fascist political party in a province that was once part of socialist Germany, these foreboding words immediately came to mind: “The womb is fertile still from which that crawled.” It is the concluding line from Bertolt Brecht’s brilliant denunciation of the Hitler regime, The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui. What happened in Saxony-Anhalt in the last election with the far-right AfD, or Alternative for Germany, gaining 43.5% of the vote is certainly a somber vindication of Brecht’s warning. But why there and why now? The answers are not readily apparent, but neither are they inscrutable.
First, the resistible rise of the AfD was not resisted sufficiently or effectively enough. In fact, the prevailing policies of Germany’s ruling parties—whether CDU (Christian Democratic Union) or SPD (Social Democratic Party of Germany)—actually served to propel alienation, angst, and anger among the masses. This is particularly true for the provinces of the former German Democratic Republic, all of which have significantly higher support for the AfD than their counterparts in the west.
The tactic of imposing a firewall (Brandmauer) of noncooperation around the AfD proved to be a poor choice for the resistance. After 30 years of being largely treated as second-class citizens, to be functionally defined as some sort of political leper for their party preference only strengthened the resolve and resentment of AfD voters in the east.
Germany remains, as before, a deeply divided country. The Reunification (die Wende) decades ago did little to integrate, let alone unify, east and west. “Ossies” and “Wessies” largely live in separate political and economic universes divided by colonial-like snobbery on the one side and legitimate grievances on the other.
The AfD officially associates itself with Blau (blue). It is perhaps worth noting that in common German parlance when someone is said to be Blau, they are totally drunk.
What was once a gap in living standards has become a chasm. The annual GDP per capita in Bavaria, for example, is $68,619, while in Saxony-Anhalt it is $42,471, the lowest of all provinces. Eastern German employees earn about 80%-86% of the income levels of their western counterparts. Employees in the western state of Baden-Württemberg earn on average 23% more than workers in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, where provincial elections will be held on September 20 and where polls indicate the AfD will get at least 37% of the vote. The unemployment rate in eastern Germany sits around 8.1%, whereas in the west it is about 6.1%. Poverty rates in the east, now well over 20%, have consistently remained higher than in the west, now under 15%.
Despite these economic woes, the current embattled Chancellor, Friedrich Merz, and his CDU cohorts have proposed major rollbacks in the social safety net, stricter rules for sick leave, cuts to family benefits, and plans to alter pension payments. “The welfare state as we have known it,” proclaimed the multimillionaire Mertz, “can no longer be financed.” Mertz, a corporate lawyer and former head of Germany’s branch of BlackRock, the world’s largest asset management company with over $15 trillion in assets, is an unabashed cheerleader for monopoly capitalism as expressed in his book, Daring More Capitalism. Militarism is also high on his imperialist agenda.
His proposed military budget for 2027 is $125 billion, an increase of 33% from 2026. As he stated at the onset of his political career in the national government: My “government will provide the Bundeswehr with all the financial resources it needs to become the strongest conventional army in Europe.”
Not surprisingly, his CDU party crashed in the Saxony-Anhalt election, receiving only 16.7% of the vote, a 20.4 point drop from the previous election. It, along with the SPD, is projected to register colossal losses in the coming Mecklenburg-Vorpommern election as well.
A glimmer of hope in the east for anti-fascist and anti-capitalist forces emerges from Berlin. Polls there indicate that the Left Party (Die Linke) is projected to receive about 20% of the vote on September 20, the highest of all political parties on the ballot. There is a very real possibility that a prominent leader of the Left Party, Elif Eralp, will become the next mayor of Berlin replacing the disgraced CDU mayor Kai Wegner. Eralp is the daughter of politically active trade unionists in Turkey. She continues that legacy of activism with her outspoken opposition to racism and for affordable housing. “I don’t want large real estate firms to determine in which direction Berlin develops,” declared Eralp in her progressive campaign, “I believe a different Berlin is possible, one in which everyone is able to afford housing.”
More hope for the future comes from the massive anti-fascist protests in the wake of the AfD victory promptly held in Berlin, Potsdam, Münster, Göttingen, Dresden. Frankfurt, Aachen, Bamberg, Darmstadt, Halle, and elsewhere. One protest sign read, “The rainbow has no color brown.” Brown, of course, refers to the NSDAP, the Nazis. The AfD officially associates itself with Blau (blue). It is perhaps worth noting that in common German parlance when someone is said to be Blau, they are totally drunk.
For those intoxicated by a lust for power, now dangerously rejuvenated, sobriety in politics is no alternative. That means for the rest of Germany, the overwhelming majority of whom firmly reject fascism as the future, the mandate is clear: Solidarity Forever!
The womb from which the AfD crawled must be made infertile, forever.
This money was won because communities suffered extraordinary harm and hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives, so funds should build and expand capacity of much-needed health infrastructure and create lasting systems of care.
Nearly $58 billion is now flowing into states and local governments after the recent settlement with Purdue Pharma and other companies whose actions fueled the overdose epidemic, one of the deadliest public health crises in American history. For the first time in a generation, local communities have a critical opportunity to decide how this money is spent and allocate funding to build systems on their own terms, systems that actually save lives and provide care rooted in dignity.
The question is whether state, county, and municipal officials will actually take that chance.
The settlement money belongs to the people that paid the price. It is restitution for those lives lost, for families devastated, and for communities harmed not only by addiction and overdose, but by decades of failed punitive policies that criminalized suffering instead of treating it. It doesn’t belong to politicians, hospital systems, police departments, or consultants.
That means people directly impacted by overdose, addiction, incarceration, homelessness, and family separation should help decide how these dollars are spent. Too often, they are shut out of that decision entirely. In many states, opioid settlement decisions are made in private meetings with little public awareness, minimal reporting requirements, and limited opportunities for ordinary residents to participate. Some local governments still have no meaningful public process at all.
As federal health and social service funding faces growing cuts, many states and localities are quietly eyeing opioid settlement dollars to backfill budget gaps or prop up systems that should already be publicly funded.
When people get involved, the results improve. More states are passing legislation requiring reports on opioid settlement spending. In Hancock County, Maine, there was initially no public framework for opioid settlement spending. After a local advocate stepped forward to engage county officials, authorities created a committee of community stakeholders, including people with firsthand lived experience, to help advise how to spend those funds. In Buffalo, New York, public scrutiny and press attention around the use of settlement spending on things like police equipment and snowblowers pushed local leaders toward better investments, such as recovery coaches and treatment clinic upgrades, in later funding rounds. We can see how public engagement changes outcomes.
New Jersey committed nearly $119 million to expand harm reduction centers offering naloxone distribution, syringe access, mobile outreach, and connections to care. Kentucky continues to invest in a network of legal aid providers helping people impacted by drug use expunge their criminal records. Portland, Maine spreads its opioid funds across three efforts: a needle buyback program that removes used syringes from public spaces; a housing first program that gets people into stable housing without requiring sobriety first; and contingency management, which rewards people with incentives like gift cards for staying off stimulants such as meth and cocaine.
We also know what does not work. Nevertheless, across the country, settlement dollars are still being spent on police equipment, surveillance technology, jail expansions, and outmoded treatment programs that forbid modern medications, and ineffective "just say no" style prevention campaigns. Some jurisdictions have purchased drones, tasers, license plate readers, police dogs, and narcotics detection equipment using funds that were supposed to heal communities harmed by overdose.
The most insidious trend may be one the public cannot easily see: supplantation. According to best practice guidance from Johns Hopkins University and endorsed by more than 60 organizations including my own, supplantation advises that opioid settlement funds must not replace existing funding sources. But as federal health and social service funding faces growing cuts, many states and localities are quietly eyeing opioid settlement dollars to backfill budget gaps or prop up systems that should already be publicly funded. Settlement dollars should not replace Medicaid; they should not compensate for cuts to public health infrastructure. They were never meant to become a government slush fund.
This money was won because communities suffered extraordinary harm and hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives. Funds should build and expand capacity of much-needed health infrastructure and create lasting systems of care, not patch holes created by shifting political priorities. It’s not that settlement funds should never stabilize existing programs; in some cases, communities may need to use these dollars temporarily to sustain lifesaving services that would otherwise disappear. But those decisions must happen transparently, with public input, and with a clear understanding of the trade-offs involved. Advocates have issued guidelines that can help jurisdictions think through these challenging decisions.
There is reason for cautious optimism. Advocates, impacted families, and community organizations across the country are building models for transparency, accountability, and evidence-based investment. A new National Roadmap for Spending Opioid Settlement Funds can help communities understand their local processes and push for smarter spending. It also documents problematic and promising spending across the country. Advocates in Maine, New York, and New Jersey have created websites to help community members get involved in directing opioid settlement funds. The Maine Recovery Action Project has created a national toolkit that anyone can use to start organizing residents to have a say in spending decisions.
Residents should ask simple but critical questions, such as: Where is the money going? Who benefits? What evidence supports these investments? Who was consulted?
The overdose crisis was perpetrated by decisions, made over the course of decades, that never faced accountability. We cannot afford to repeat that mistake now with resources made available to repair the damage.
Washington says it wants the Lebanese state to reclaim authority, but Beirut is still being asked to move first while Israeli withdrawal remains conditional.
This week, the argument over Lebanese sovereignty became concrete on a ridge overlooking Nabatieh. The New Arab reported on August 24 that Washington is pressing for the strategic Ali al-Taher ridge, where Hezbollah fighters are present, to be transferred to the Lebanese Army in exchange for Israeli withdrawal. The same area has been subjected to repeated Israeli shelling. In one small patch of southern Lebanon, the larger problem is suddenly hard to hide: Beirut is being asked to move first, while the withdrawal of foreign forces from Lebanese territory remains the inducement offered in return.
That pressure did not begin this week. Reuters reported in July 2025 that Washington was pressing Lebanon to make a formal cabinet commitment to disarm Hezbollah before talks could continue on halting Israeli military operations. Lebanese officials were told that without such a commitment, the United States would stop sending its envoy and would no longer press Israel to halt airstrikes or withdraw troops. Even the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, which strongly favors disarmament, later described Lebanon's policy shift as having been adopted “under duress.”
Call it diplomacy if you like. It is still leverage. And it is being applied unevenly. Lebanon is expected to reduce its own side's military leverage first, while Israeli withdrawal is treated as something Lebanon must earn through compliance. If sovereignty means anything, it should not mean that a weaker country first dismantles its deterrent while a stronger military power keeps troops on its land.
None of this requires pretending Hezbollah has made no miscalculations. In March, after Hezbollah fired on Israel during the US-Israeli war with Iran, Lebanon's cabinet prohibited Hezbollah's military and security activities and ordered it to surrender its weapons to the state. The principle behind that decision is legitimate. A political movement, however rooted or powerful, should not be able to decide by itself when an entire country goes to war.
That is what real sovereignty would look like: not simply fewer Hezbollah weapons, but a Lebanese state strong enough that people no longer feel they need Hezbollah for protection, reconstruction, or basic support.
But sovereignty cannot stop at Hezbollah's weapons. It also has to mean that Israeli troops leave Lebanese territory and that Israeli strikes do not become a permanent feature of Lebanese life. Washington itself warned Israel this month that a permanent military presence in southern Lebanon would conflict with the US-backed framework. Yet the practical sequence still asks Beirut to show progress first. For many Lebanese in the south, that does not feel like state building. It feels like being told to surrender under fire.
There is another reality that is often flattened out of the American debate: Hezbollah is more than an arsenal. Its institutions became deeply rooted because they stepped into places where the Lebanese state was weak, slow, or absent. CNN reported as far back as 2006 that Hezbollah was providing water, helping pay medical costs, running schools, and collecting garbage in communities where government capacity was thin. The Council on Foreign Relations still describes a broad network of Hezbollah-linked healthcare, schools, infrastructure, and youth programs.
Calling that a “state within a state” is not far-fetched. But the phrase contains an uncomfortable admission: There was space for a parallel state because the official one repeatedly left a vacuum.
After the 2006 war, NPR found Hezbollah moving into reconstruction within hours of the ceasefire, assessing damage and distributing assistance while the government struggled to respond. For families standing in front of rubble, that was not an abstract debate about militias. It was help arriving when they needed it. People remember that.
The pattern returned after the 2024 war. The World Bank estimated Lebanon's reconstruction and recovery needs at $11 billion. While Lebanon searched for financing, Hezbollah's Jihad al-Bina network was already surveying damaged communities and paying compensation. Le Monde reported in early 2025 that Hezbollah had paid about $400 million to roughly 140,000 people. The effort was imperfect, and residents complained about delays. But it was there, visible on the ground, while the state had nothing comparable at that scale.
The same failure of formal institutions helped the Hezbollah-linked Al-Qard al-Hassan network grow during Lebanon's banking collapse. Families turned to it because ordinary depositors had been locked out of their savings. The United States has sanctioned Al-Qard al-Hassan officials and says the institution helps Hezbollah evade sanctions and move money. That allegation belongs in the picture. So does the reason such an institution became useful to ordinary people: The formal banking system had failed them.
This is the part a disarmament order cannot solve. Remove the weapons, and then what? Who fills the security gap along the border? Who rebuilds the next damaged neighborhood? Who replaces the clinics, schools, relief networks, and financial lifelines people have relied on for years? Lebanon's army can and should become the country's sole military authority. But it cannot also become a nationwide welfare system and reconstruction agency overnight.
There is a path out, but the order matters. Hezbollah should ultimately give up its military role and function as a political and social organization. Israel should withdraw fully from Lebanese territory, with an enforceable mechanism to stop renewed attacks and violations. At the same time, Lebanon and its international partners need to build institutions strong enough to replace the civilian functions that helped Hezbollah become indispensable to many communities.
That is what real sovereignty would look like: not simply fewer Hezbollah weapons, but a Lebanese state strong enough that people no longer feel they need Hezbollah for protection, reconstruction, or basic support.
The Ali al-Taher dispute shows why sequencing is not an academic concern. When Washington asks Beirut to take control of a strategic position in exchange for Israeli withdrawal, it reinforces the very perception that has sustained Hezbollah's argument for decades: that Lebanon is expected to prove its sovereignty by satisfying conditions imposed from outside. You cannot build a sovereign state by removing structures people rely on and promising that the state will catch up later. Build the security, capacity, and trust first. Then disarmament becomes a transfer of responsibility to a functioning state rather than an act of surrender to someone else's timetable.
We don't need billions of dollars going toward policing our neighbors and Social Schedulingmilitarization of our streets to make our communities safer—we need housing, education, healthcare, and a commitment to climate justice for true national security.
One year ago, the Trump administration brought 800 National Guard troops to occupy the streets of Washington, DC, part of the "Safe and Beautiful Task Force." There are now approximately 5,000 troops from 15 states deployed here, with some officially moved in and set to stay through 2029.
This does not include the alphabet soup of law enforcement agencies swarming our neighborhoods across the city, from Immigration and Customs Enforcement to the FBI, Secret Service, Department of Homeland Security, Drug Enforcement Agency, Park Police, and more.
The National Guard can be found meandering around metro stations, museums, and grocery stores there for mere posture. Despite crime being down before they were deployed here. A new analysis from the Center for American Progress found the Guard deployment has not had a measurable impact on violent crime. They are not even trained in "civilian policing," and are unable to make actual arrests.
“This was never about reducing crime, especially not violent crime,” said Chandler Hall, who wrote the study. “This has been a show of force without any evidence to bear that it’s actually working."
"If my neighbors could experience military protection as something imposed upon them, what did civilians overseas think when American forces arrived in their communities?"
The cost of the Guard is estimated at $3 million a day, with some troops said to make close to $9,000 a month, including salary, lodging, and food per diem. It is hard to track the multi-year total in billions of dollars as the administration is far from transparent with the process.
The wasteful spending from the Department of War is unsurprising. Despite the Pentagon never passing an audit, the Department of War's proposed budget is record-breaking at $1.5 trillion for one year and does not include the recent billions for the Iran war and additional billions to Israel to further the genocide in Gaza and ongoing destruction in Lebanon.
Some of the reasoning for more troops in DC was for the Freedom 250 nationalism events, beginning with a UFC fight, State Fair, and Fourth of July festivities, all of which were disastrous, from cancellations, evacuations, and heat strokes to stage parts falling, nearly killing performers. The millions of dollars that went into these spectacles strained the local community. On July 4, my friend Nicky, a 71-year-old EMT, worked an 18-hour double shift for $27 an hour while constant military flyovers cost over $1.2 million.
Karen Degraphenreid, a veteran of the US Air Force as a Major of 10 years, got involved with Free DC when the military occupation in DC began. She describes her reflections from her time overseas to experiencing the guard takeover here at home.
"Washington is the only place in the country where more than 700,000 American citizens can have troops deployed to their streets by leaders they have no voting representation in choosing. We pay federal taxes, serve in the military, and fulfill every obligation of citizenship, yet Congress can override our local government and impose decisions that fundamentally reshape life in our city. That reality forced me to reconsider what 'protection' actually means," she said.
She continued:
Many of my neighbors never asked for soldiers outside their neighborhoods. Many openly opposed their presence. To them, the deployment did not feel like reassurance. It felt like a federal government exercising power over a city that has long been denied full democratic self-government.
And that realization led me to a question I had never seriously asked during my years in uniform.
If my neighbors could experience military protection as something imposed upon them, what did civilians overseas think when American forces arrived in their communities? When we said we were bringing security and stability, did they experience it as protection? Or did they see armed strangers exercising power over places that belonged to them?
Karen is also a member of Common Defense, which holds trainings for veterans to verbally confront the National Guard. Other veterans are speaking out to encourage their fellows and active-duty members to do the same. Groups like About Face have been welcoming anti-war veterans to become more organized for years, many of whom were deployed in Afghanistan and Iraq, and are actively opposed to the genocide in Gaza and the war on Iran.
At a press conference commemorating one year of the occupation, Luke Filomena, a registered nurse with National Nurses United, expressed the imperialist boomerang we are all witnessing
I’ve seen this administration and every administration prior instead choose to spend hundreds of billions, now trillions of dollars, yearly, to go toward countless amounts of death and destruction through endless imperialist wars overseas and the funding and arming of a genocide in Gaza. I’ve been forced to watch as hospitals filled with patients and fellow healthcare workers, as well as schools filled with children, are indiscriminately bombed in Gaza and in Iran, and as the US blockade of Cuba leaves hospitals without fuel and supplies to power lifesaving medical equipment and provide care for their patients.
"Over the past year, under the Trump regime, we’re now seeing the imperialist boomerang come back, with its sights locked on the Black, brown, and immigrant communities here in DC; those who I see each day at the bedside," Filomena explained.
It's one thing to be aware of connecting the dots, and it's another to act on it. DC has been public about its opposition to the military takeover of the city. When the occupation first launched, we disrupted Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of War Pete Hegseth's photo op at Shake Shack in Union Station. A month later, Trump and almost his entire cabinet went out to dinner at a restaurant near the White House, and we disrupted it, chanting, "Free DC, Free Palestine, Trump is the Hitler of our time." We later drowned out a public appearance by Hegseth, Stephen Miller, and hundreds of National Guard at Malcolm X Park.
Opportunities to confront the administration are rarer than daily encounters with the Guard. The same week budget cuts to Supplemental and Nutrition Assistance Program were being discussed in Congress, I asked a group of troops, who often appear to be aimlessly wandering our neighborhoods in groups of four, if people in their communities would be hit by this. I've asked them if they know their neighbors and what services they could use and be funded versus them being deployed here to hang outside of a convenience store. When the forest fires created thick smoke across DC, I asked why they were here and not putting out the fires.
In these conversations, they almost always nod their head and reach for their pamphlet, telling me and others who confront them to contact their supervisor. They come from states from Mississippi to Michigan, and there have been state-by-state campaigns to get the Guard to go home. Many of them are here voluntarily, not simply "following orders" as we are led to believe.
While we have 800 military bases abroad, the war economy is inescapable for most people within the United States as well. The predatory trap the military-industrial complex has on young people of color or those in poverty means they are heavily recruited to join the various branches of the military. The increased amount of data centers across the country is also making the war economy ever more apparent.
But the state can't use the excuse of job creation anymore. The Climate and Communities Institute shows us that employment at military contractors has plummeted over the past three decades, from an estimated 3.2 million workers during the Reagan military-spending peak in the mid-1980s to 1.1 million workers in 2020. The drop occurred despite Pentagon budgets rising 22% over the same period (not accounting for inflation costs). The alternative is a care economy, a system of paid and unpaid labor, services, and relationships that support human health, well-being, and daily life, that moves away from dirty, violent jobs that rely on weapons manufacturers and the fossil fuel industry.
We cannot normalize troops on our streets. But we must address the roots that cause normalization. We've been taught to salute combat veterans for their service no matter their history; we're used to discounts for military personnel and TV shows and Hollywood movies glorifying lower-level cadets to high-ranking commanders. While militarized superheroes are a common staple in US popular culture, teachers are buying their own school supplies for their classrooms, social workers have overwhelming caseloads, EMTs are working overtime while underpaid, and many veterans are unhoused or waitlisted at the VA.
Washington, DC does not need occupation; it needs fair representation. We don't need billions of dollars going toward policing our neighbors and militarization of our streets to make our communities safer—we need housing, education, healthcare, and a commitment to climate justice for true national security. In the meantime, we have only seen our community grow stronger to protect each other—more trainings, skill sharing, documenting, court support, fundraising, and more. Every day we are supporting each other by radically building community through getting to know our neighbors more deeply in real life.
The Iran war shows how conflicts abroad can reshape domestic priorities, transferring the economic burden of war onto ordinary Americans.
For Washington, war usually begins with decisions made behind closed doors and explained through familiar terms such as security, deterrence, and national interest. It is then presented through images of aircraft and missiles moving toward targets thousands of miles away. But for ordinary people, war often arrives more quietly: through the fuel pump, grocery bills, transportation costs, and household budgets that leave less room for basic needs.
The Iran war demonstrated this reality once again. A crisis in the Middle East quickly became connected to one of the world’s most sensitive energy choke points: the Strait of Hormuz. Concerns about disruptions to global energy flows showed how a conflict far from American shores can affect domestic economic conditions. For most Americans, the consequences are not measured through military operations or geopolitical calculations, but through higher energy costs, rising transportation expenses, and pressure on living standards.
Yet the cost of war extends beyond immediate economic effects. Measuring conflict only through oil prices or military spending overlooks a deeper question: what a country cannot invest in because resources are directed toward war.
No national budget is unlimited. Every billion dollars allocated to military operations, weapons purchases, troop deployments, or rebuilding stockpiles cannot be spent simultaneously on infrastructure, education, healthcare, housing, or other public priorities. This is the social opportunity cost of war: the value of needs that receive fewer resources because military commitments take precedence. Defense spending appears clearly in budgets, but the school never built, the infrastructure project delayed, or the public service left underfunded often remain invisible.
A country that spends vast resources on war in the name of security must also ask whether those choices strengthen or weaken the society that security is supposed to protect.
The economic consequences of war also spread through markets, supply chains, and production costs. Conflicts involving major energy-producing regions create uncertainty that eventually reaches households. However, these burdens are not shared equally. A wealthy family may absorb higher fuel or food prices with limited disruption, while a family already struggling with housing, food, and energy costs may be forced to sacrifice another necessity.
The cost of war is therefore not simply national; it is social. Those with the least influence over decisions about war do not necessarily experience the smallest consequences. The civilian impact of conflict extends beyond battlefields. An American worker whose purchasing power declines or a family facing higher living costs also becomes part of the economic burden created by war.
Supporters of military action argue that these costs must be weighed against the dangers of inaction. They maintain that failing to confront threats abroad could create greater instability and eventually produce even higher costs. This argument deserves consideration. Governments have a responsibility to protect citizens and maintain the capabilities needed to respond to serious threats.
However, national security cannot be measured only through military strength. Military power is one element of national power, but it depends on other foundations: a productive economy, reliable infrastructure, an educated workforce, effective institutions, and a society with economic stability. The central question is not whether the United States should maintain defense capabilities, but whether military spending always strengthens security or whether excessive commitments can weaken the foundations that make security possible.
This is where militarism becomes a political issue. Militarism is not simply the use of military force; it emerges when military solutions become Washington’s default response to international crises and increases in defense spending are treated automatically as greater security. Under these conditions, domestic priorities are repeatedly delayed while the costs of war become immediate and certain. The opportunity cost of war is therefore not only economic; it reflects how the United States defines security and allocates national resources.
The costs of war also continue after military operations end. Rebuilding weapons stockpiles, maintaining readiness, supporting deployments, and preparing for future conflicts can keep public resources tied to military spending for years. War is therefore not only a short-term decision; it can create long-term commitments that shape national priorities long after fighting stops.
Over time, this dynamic can contribute to a war economy: a cycle in which conflict increases demand for military production, that demand creates contracts and budget commitments, and those commitments make continued military spending politically easier to sustain.
Within this cycle, the role of the defense industry becomes an important democratic question. Greater military demand creates more orders and revenue for defense companies, while the costs are distributed nationally through public budgets and debt. This does not mean defense contracts are inherently corrupt, but it raises a fundamental question: Are the voices that benefit from continued military spending more influential in shaping security priorities than the citizens who ultimately pay for them?
War is therefore not only a foreign policy decision but also a domestic democratic issue. When the costs of conflict are distributed among millions of citizens while decisions about war are made within a limited political circle, accountability becomes part of national security itself. Citizens must be able to evaluate not only whether military operations achieve their goals, but whether their costs are proportionate to their results.
From this perspective, diplomacy should not be viewed merely as a moral alternative to military power. If war creates economic risks, energy instability, and long-term financial burdens, reducing tensions can directly protect national resources. Diplomacy is not a substitute for strength; it is a way to prevent unnecessary costs and avoid cycles of confrontation that consume economic and strategic capacity.
Ultimately, the question is not whether the United States should abandon military power or ignore external threats. The question is whether military power remains a tool for protecting national strength or becomes a substitute for it.
The Iran war has placed this issue before the United States in concrete terms. A country that spends vast resources on war in the name of security must also ask whether those choices strengthen or weaken the society that security is supposed to protect.
National power is not defined only by America’s ability to wage war. It also depends on the economic and social foundations that sustain that ability. If repeated conflicts transfer resources away from infrastructure, healthcare, education, and economic opportunity toward permanent military commitments, the United States may increase its short-term capacity to fight wars while weakening the foundations required to remain strong over time.
A nation that consumes its economic and social capital to preserve its power may finance more conflicts. But eventually it must answer a deeper question: D oes it still possess the strong society that this power was originally meant to defend?
The Trump administration has devoted extraordinary attention, taxpayer dollars, and even the power of government to projects centered on the president himself instead of the challenges facing the American people and the core responsibilities of government.
While Americans worried about rising costs at home and another war in the Middle East, President Donald Trump spent much of June talking about construction projects at the White House.
According to a Washington Post analysis of the president's speeches, interviews, social media posts, and other public remarks, he discussed his construction and beautification projects on nearly 4 out of every 5 days in June—more often than healthcare or wages, and about as often as inflation and prices.
That focus has become so pronounced that veteran White House reporter Maggie Haberman recently remarked that roughly "70%" of President Trump's attention appears devoted to his renovation projects.
The issue isn't just President Trump's construction projects. It's what they reveal about this presidency's priorities. Again and again, this administration has devoted extraordinary attention, taxpayer dollars, and even the power of government to projects centered on the president himself instead of the challenges facing the American people and the core responsibilities of government.
Americans should expect the same urgency in pursuing justice for survivors and greater transparency that this administration showed in protecting a presidential monument.
To begin with, consider where President Trump has chosen to focus his attention.
Over the past several months, President Trump has repeatedly returned to his new White House ballroom, the rebuilt Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, triumphal arches, portraits, flagpoles, and other additions that bear his personal imprint. When asked who his proposed triumphal arch was intended to honor, he answered with one word: "Me."
But few presidents have devoted so much attention to themselves while Americans confronted far more pressing challenges. Families continue to struggle with the cost of groceries, housing, childcare, and healthcare. Students and parents are trying to pay for college. Small businesses face rising costs and tariff uncertainty. Conflict in the Middle East threatens American service members, regional stability, and higher energy prices here at home.
Second, consider how those same priorities have shaped the way taxpayer dollars have been spent.
A recent New York Times analysis found that the known costs of the president's construction projects total roughly $1.2 billion. In my home state of Illinois, that same money could restore Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits for almost all families expected to lose them this year or preserve Medicaid coverage for nearly 130,000 residents at risk of losing it.
Finally, the most troubling example is how this administration has used the power of government.
The Justice Department aggressively pursued people accused of damaging President Trump's Reflecting Pool. One defendant, former Olympic canoeist David Hearn, faced a felony carrying up to 10 years in prison before prosecutors acknowledged last week that the damage was caused by a botched installation—not vandalism—and dropped the case.
Since Jeffrey Epstein's 2019 federal arrest, no one beyond Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell has been criminally prosecuted in the United States for participating in Epstein's sex-trafficking network, yet acting Attorney General Todd Blanche has defended the administration's refusal to release additional Epstein records while arguing there is no current basis for further prosecutions.
Years of litigation, congressional investigations, investigative reporting, and millions of pages of records have documented the network around Jeffrey Epstein. Leon Black paid Epstein more than $158 million. Lesley Groff spent 18 years as Epstein's longtime assistant, scheduling thousands of massages while Epstein abused underage girls. Yet the Justice Department has shown little urgency in pursuing accountability beyond Epstein and Maxwell.
The administration rushed to bring a felony case over alleged damage to President Trump's Reflecting Pool before acknowledging the damage resulted from a botched government installation—not vandalism—and dismissing the case. Yet when it comes to the people who enabled one of the largest sex-trafficking operations in modern history, that urgency has been nowhere to be found.
Every prosecution must rest on the evidence and the law. But Americans should expect the same urgency in pursuing justice for survivors and greater transparency that this administration showed in protecting a presidential monument.
The presidency is a public trust. It should be measured not by the monuments a president leaves behind, but by whether Americans are stronger, more secure, and more prosperous because of the choices he made.
Labor Day can be converted from just a symbolic holiday into a day of mass action, democratic deliberation, and binding commitments.
Unfortunately, Labor Day has become a long weekend for mattress sales and political platitudes when it should be the annual day when working people present the case for taking control of our country back from the corporatists who shape our political economy. The first Monday in September is a massive, unused civic asset, a legally recognized national holiday that could function as a recurring general assembly of America’s workers—if we choose to reclaim it.
Instead of being about the power of labor over capital, Labor Day has been domesticated into barbecues and ballgames while giant corporations tighten their grip on our economy, our governments, and the daily lives of all Americans, regardless of political labels.
Tens of millions of workers are still paid wages that cannot support a decent life, forced into permanent economic insecurity by part‑time jobs, gig “contracts,” and union‑busting consultants. Workplace democracy doesn’t exist: You are more likely to be punished for organizing a union than to be protected for exercising your basic rights. Corporate crime—tax evasions, wage theft, unsafe conditions, and violations of environmental and consumer protections—goes largely unprosecuted. At most, corporations are punished with wrist‑slap fines that CEOs quietly treat as a cost of doing business. In the richest country on Earth, we still lack universal healthcare, universal childcare, paid family leave, and a fair progressive tax system to provide needed revenues. Worker productivity rises, and the wealth of the top 1% reaches obscene levels. It is time for unions to take on the corporate predators who are wrecking our economy and democracy.
Meanwhile, politicians of both major parties take to Labor Day podiums, praise “the hardworking men and women of this country,” and then return to Washington and state capitols to do the bidding of campaign donors. They vote for trade deals that outsource jobs, deregulation that strips away workplace protections, and budgets that starve labor law enforcement. Public‑sector workers are vilified as “special interests” for wanting a decent pension.
Reclaiming Labor Day requires workers, unions, and allied organizations to decide that enough is enough and that this one annual holiday is theirs, with the media taking notice.
It does not have to be this way. Labor Day can be converted from just a symbolic holiday into a day of mass action, democratic deliberation, and binding commitments. Imagine Labor Day not as a backdrop for store sales, but as a day when a pro-worker agenda is presented. In cities and towns across the country, Labor Day could be an occasion for workers to convene meetings—at union halls, school auditoriums, public parks, and town squares—to deliver their demands to elected officials and the public.
At the center of this reclaimed Labor Day should be a Worker Compact for America—a concise, concrete program of rights, protections, and public investments that elected officials pledge, in writing, to support (see my column: "Long-Overdue Domestic Compact for America"). The Compact could include a living wage pegged to the real cost of housing, food, and healthcare; card‑check recognition and real penalties for employers who retaliate against organizing; universal healthcare as a right; paid family and medical leave; universal, publicly supported childcare; and serious criminal and civil sanctions for corporate abuses such as wage and pension theft and workplace safety violations.
Labor Day should also be the moment when workers formally summon their representatives to account. Every senator, every representative, every governor, every mayor, and every state legislator whose constituents work for a living should receive a written summons well in advance of Labor Day: “You are Summoned and morally obligated to engage with a workers’ assembly in your district on this date, at this time, to answer questions and respond to demands of the Worker Compact.” Those who appear would be questioned, on the record, about their votes and their pledges to support the Worker Compact.
Those who refuse to appear would be named from the podium and in the local media as having chosen their corporate patrons over the workers who elect them.
Unions must be at the forefront of this transformation, but they cannot do it alone. The AFL‑CIO and national unions should provide muscle, resources, and experienced organizers. Local unions, especially those that have led recent organizing drives, should be the anchors in their communities. But civic groups, faith communities, student organizations, tenant unions, consumer advocates, and environmental justice campaigns—all of them have a direct stake in a stronger labor movement and should be invited to help expose the carnage caused by unchecked Corporate Power (see the AFL-CIO’s Worker Foundation of Trump’s Second-Term Agenda).
Much of the infrastructure already exists; it is the public reshaping of Labor Day that needs to change. Parades, where they still occur, should shift from generic celebration to worker agenda‑driven demonstrations. Floats should not just carry politicians waving; they should carry workers demanding specific changes: warehouse workers calling for safe staffing, nurses calling for safe patient ratios, and transit workers calling for investment in public transportation. Marching bands can be joined by marching delegations of workers—each with their banners and demands. Voter registration tables, ballot measure petitions, and sign‑up sheets for organizing committees should line the parade routes.
Because of the election calendar, Labor Day signals the final stretch of every general election. Candidate forums convened by workers on Labor Day should not end at sundown; they should kick off sustained, workplace-based, and neighborhood‑based organizing that runs through Election Day and beyond. Every candidate who signs the Worker Compact on Labor Day should be evaluated: Did they co‑sponsor the bills they promised to support, vote the way they pledged, and stand with workers in strikes and organizing drives? The next Labor Day, those records should again be publicized.
Reclaiming Labor Day requires workers, unions, and allied organizations to decide that enough is enough and that this one annual holiday is theirs, with the media taking notice.
The question posed every first Monday in September is the old union question: Which side are you on? If we are on the side of workers, then we must act like it—organizing, summoning, demanding, and voting for candidates who stand with the workers, not the vastly under-taxed corporate predators and plutocrats.
If you are interested in organizing events in your community, contact us at LaborDay@nader.org
Too often, tax is framed as a burden instead of a form of shared investment and discussed as a technical obligation rather than the foundation that allows modern societies to function.
Few issues matter more to the future of societies than how we fund the systems we all depend on. Yet tax remains one of the most misunderstood and poorly communicated public issues of our time.
For many people, taxation is associated with complexity, bureaucracy, and cost. Public debate often centers on what individuals or businesses are required to give up, rather than what those contributions make possible.
That is the problem. Tax's biggest challenge isn't policy. It's a narrative challenge that every society faces, whether in the United States, Argentina, Botswana, Thailand, or anywhere in between.
Too often, tax is framed as a burden instead of a form of shared investment. It is discussed as a technical obligation rather than the foundation that allows modern societies to function. Schools, healthcare systems, transportation networks, courts, emergency services, climate resilience measures, and public safety systems do not emerge on their own. They depend on sustained and predictable collective investment, and taxation remains the primary way societies make that investment possible.
When people can see what their taxes make possible, tax becomes more than a cost. It becomes part of the social contract that helps communities function and thrive.
Seen this way, tax justice is not only about rates, revenue, or technical reforms. It is about whether societies have the resources required to deliver opportunity, security, and resilience in a consistent and equitable way.
Most people do not experience taxation through fiscal policy debates. They experience it through outcomes. They see whether schools are adequately resourced, healthcare is accessible, roads and infrastructure work, and governments can respond effectively to economic shocks, climate risks, and public emergencies.
That means the conversation should not begin with forms, rates, or technical policy language. It should begin with a more immediate and universal question: What do we want to contribute to make our world better, and how should we fund it? Do we want to reduce cancer rates, prepare communities for extreme weather, ensure every child receives a quality education, keep bridges and roads safe, breathe clean air and drink clean water, and build healthcare systems that can care for people as they age without placing the full burden on the next generation?
But changing the narrative around tax also requires rebuilding trust. People are more likely to see taxation as a shared investment when they understand where public money goes, how decisions are made, and how those investments improve daily life. For example, an Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development report examining public perceptions of tax systems across 29 countries found that in two-thirds of countries surveyed in Asia and the Anglophone Pacific, more respondents agreed than disagreed that public services and infrastructure represent a fair return for their taxes, compared with 30% of countries surveyed in Western Europe and Latin America. This shows that when people can see what their taxes make possible, tax becomes more than a cost. It becomes part of the social contract that helps communities function and thrive.
Federal, regional, and local governments have a responsibility to build that trust, but the scale and complexity of public institutions can make the connection between taxation and public benefit difficult for people to see. This is where philanthropy can play an important supporting role, not by replacing government, but by strengthening the civic infrastructure that helps people understand, scrutinize, and participate in tax debates.
Philanthropy can fund civil society organizations working on tax transparency, accountability, and fairness. It can support independent research that shows how tax policy affects communities, journalism that follows public money, watchdog groups that hold institutions accountable, and civic engagement efforts that help people connect tax decisions to the schools, hospitals, housing, roads, climate protections, and care systems they rely on every day.
In that sense, philanthropy can help rebuild the bridge between contribution and trust. It can make tax feel less like an obligation and more like part of a shared public conversation about what societies need, what people value, and how those priorities should be funded. Philanthropy can also take risks, support innovation, and surface ideas that may later scale through public systems. Taxation provides the foundation. Philanthropy can help strengthen and extend it.
This matters not only for governments and philanthropy today, but for the next generation of wealth holders, donors, advisers, and civic leaders who will shape how contribution is understood in the years ahead. As the world undergoes one of the largest transfers of wealth in modern history, tens of trillions of dollars will move between generations. Those shifts will influence not only private wealth, but also the ability of societies to invest in their collective future.
That makes wealth stewardship an increasingly important conversation. Investment decisions, advisory practices, philanthropic strategies, and family office decisions all influence how wealth is deployed and how contribution itself is understood. These systems help set norms around responsibility, participation, and the relationship between private wealth and public life.
Rebranding tax does not mean making it simple or pretending it is painless. It means making visible what tax makes possible. It means connecting contribution to the public goods people rely on every day. And it means building a shared understanding that a better world is not funded by good intentions alone, but by the choices societies make together.
The end result of GOP cuts to the domestic social safety net and to foreign aid will be the cleansing of people defined by the Trump regime as being useless, needy, and inferior.
Throughout history, malicious regimes have risen to power and, thinking they are superior, have targeted groups of people they have decided are a threat to their economy, their society, or their race. These governments then proceed to disenfranchise and eliminate those they decree as inferior, the “out-groups.” This is eugenics, the discredited beliefs and practices that claim to improve the genetic quality of a specific group by eliminating the propagation of the “out-groups.” This has been accomplished in the past by forced sterilization, inhumane institutionalization, or outright euthanasia. In reality, the practice of eugenics is about preserving the power of the dominant group or government, not genetics.
The United States has a dark history of eugenics targeting people of color and those with disabilities. Though it may be less glaringly obvious today, eugenic thought and policies have been empowered by the MAGA movement. In 2024 the Trump administration defined “out-groups” both nationally and internationally, with massive funding cuts to social programs, healthcare, and research directed at reducing health disparities—efforts that they call “woke.” As ever, these actions will have the deadliest effects on their designated “out-groups”: immigrants, the elderly, the poor, those with disabilities, people with mental illness, retirees, and Black and brown people. These are all groups that the administration and MAGA Republicans see as using the social services they want to eliminate, or as not being important to the economic growth of the US. The end result is the eugenic cleansing of US citizens defined by the regime as being useless, needy, and inferior.
How did they do this? In the “One Big Beautiful Bill,” Republicans succeeded in undermining social programs such as Medicaid and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP). This greatly affects the health of those they disfavor, such as those who experience poverty and struggle for adequate healthcare and nutrition. These actions also directly harm people with disabilities, who are more likely to live in poverty and to require food assistance. Additionally, people with mental health conditions, as well as people who are unhoused, are being targeted by administration policies aimed at institutionalizing them. Institutionalization has a dark history in the US and is just one step from state-mediated sterilization and elimination.
To further assure poor health for the “out-groups” the administration, in league with Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. and his HHS cronies, has methodically weakened the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Vital disease monitoring programs have been halted, lifesaving research has been crushed, vaccine uptake has been attacked, and fact-based science and medical practices have been exchanged for conspiracy theories and the promotion of unproven supplements. All of these actions will most severely damage the health of the most vulnerable, the “out-groups.”
The administration, right-wing politicians, and the MAGA movement seem to have taken it upon themselves to eugenically cleanse the Earth of poor, non-white people.
And it doesn’t stop in the United States. Immediately after the inauguration, the Trump administration began with severe cuts to foreign aid through the elimination of US Agency for International Development (USAID) and other destructive policies. It has been predicted that this will ultimately end in the deaths of millions across the globe. It is already happening.
This is eugenics—many of the millions who die, or become permanently disabled, will be children, who will be eliminated before they can reproduce. And the greatest effects of the withdrawal of aid are directed against Black and brown people, the “out-group” who, according to the crude language of the US president, live in “shit-hole” countries—as if these countries and the human beings who live there are worthless and expendable, a burden to the US and the world.
The administration, right-wing politicians, and the MAGA movement seem to have taken it upon themselves to eugenically cleanse the Earth of poor, non-white people. Apparently, they believe they have the power and the right to reduce the world’s population by promoting terrible suffering through fatal diseases and starvation in places far out of their view.
Let’s say it outright—this is state-sponsored eugenics and it is happening in the America which was “conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” The actions of the current administration have disgraced those principles. Even hard-core MAGA followers should be opposed to the behavior of their chosen leaders, who are resorting to eugenics, using the infliction of terrible suffering, pain, diseases, and starvation for political power, economic gain, and supremacy. And MAGA followers should remember you are not immune; a small change in status will bring you into the crosshairs of state-sponsored eugenics. We should all be alarmed.
The average US taxpayer in 2025 had over $4,000 taken out of their paychecks to fund the Pentagon; in the coming years, that amount is set to rise as Congress considers a $1.5 trillion war budget for 2027.
In an era of high prices for fuel, food, and housing, an extra $4,000 could make a lifesaving difference for many families. But instead, that’s what the average household had to shell out for the Pentagon last year.
That’s right: The average US taxpayer in 2025 had over $4,000 taken out of their paychecks to fund the Pentagon, according to the National Priorities Project at the Institute for Policy Studies. In the coming years, that amount is set to rise as Congress considers a $1.5 trillion war budget for 2027.
For the growing number of working poor in the United States, that money can mean the difference between making rent or falling behind, or between being able to afford an emergency trip to the doctor or going without care.
Money directed to the Pentagon represents nothing but betrayal for many Americans. A large majority oppose our wars, especially the latest conflict in Iran. And roughly half of the Pentagon’s budget flows to for-profit contractors, fueling the billionaire (and now even trillionaire) class.
The person who lost SNAP and the farmer who lost their income alike will be asked to foot the bill for the $1.5 trillion war budget.
Take SpaceX, one of many companies built on government contracts funded by taxpayer dollars. Elon Musk’s company would not exist without US taxpayers. As early Tesla investor Ross Gerber put it, “There would not be (Tesla and SpaceX) if it weren’t for the government.”
Early investments and contracts from the US government helped propel SpaceX to success, while continued awards from the Pentagon provided the stable revenue that made the government one of Musk’s largest customers. The company is now valued at more than $1 trillion. Private investors alone did not make Musk a trillionaire—taxpayers across the United States did.
But Musk isn’t the only person who made himself rich off the backs of American workers.
Lockheed Martin receives over 70% of its revenue from US government contracts. The numbers for Raytheon and General Dynamics are similar. These military contractors simply would not exist without the taxpayers—and a new $1.5 trillion budget would send hundreds of billions of dollars more to people who already have more than most Americans could even conceptualize.
At the same time, while taxpayers are subsidizing the military-industrial complex, the jobs those industries are allegedly providing are in decline, with the war industry creating over 2 million fewer jobs than it did 40 years ago.
Worse still, under the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” Republicans passed a year ago, the money for these ever-rising Pentagon budgets comes directly from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), Medicaid, and other programs that help Americans make ends meet.
Under those cuts, millions of Americans—including children—have lost SNAP benefits already. And that’s impacting not just families but the farmers who helped feed them.
SNAP benefits were “guaranteed money in the pockets of farmers,” said Reese Amxy, a policy organizer at the Illinois Stewardship Alliance. But 150,000 people in the state have already lost eligibility.
It’s not just Illinois. Arizona has seen the steepest decline, with 50% of recipients—nearly half a million—already losing benefits. Louisiana (21%), Florida (20%), Oklahoma (16%), Virginia (16%), Texas (14%), Wyoming (13%), and Arkansas (12%) round out the rest of the hardest hit states so far.
Yet the person who lost SNAP and the farmer who lost their income alike will be asked to foot the bill for the $1.5 trillion war budget. This is Robin Hood in reverse. Worse still, the weapons those taxes buy are often to use to kill children like ours in Gaza and Iran.
The weapons and tech CEOs that would benefit from the massive war budget, and the politicians bought off by them, seek to keep this cycle going next year at an even grander scale. Americans need to demand their lawmakers say no more Pentagon spending—and invest in the things that actually keep our communities safe instead.