In one of the scariest moments in modern history, we're doing our best at ScheerPost to pierce the fog of lies that conceal it but we need some help to pay our writers and staff. Please consider a tax-deductible donation.
By Ron Kovic / Original to ScheerPost
A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act that may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Thomas Jefferson, The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776
In my home, the America I love, the America I’ve written about that has been a beacon of hope and liberty for 250 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent, and treasonous administration. Tonight, we ask all who believe in democracy and the best of our American experiment to rise with us, raise your voices against authoritarianism and let freedom ring.
Bruce Springsteen, Land of Hope and Dreams Tour
Manchester, England, May 14, 2025
In his farewell letter to the American people, President George Washington warned about “the impostures of pretended patriotism.” Born on my country’s birthday in 1946, I was proud to be an American and blessed to have been born on such a special day. You could say that from the very beginning I was truly, as the song implies, a Yankee Doodle Dandy and a real live nephew of my Uncle Sam.
I wasn’t pretending to be a patriot. I was one from the very start. I was the real thing, the authentic American: red, white and blue all over. As a young boy, I was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout. I read Boys Life magazine and played second base in the Massapequa Little League and dreamed of playing for the New York Yankees someday.
But I also read the Marine Corp guidebook when I was seven, a gift from my Uncle Jimmy who had served as a Marine during the Korean War, and I would practice for hours standing at attention and saluting in front of the mirror in my room.
l was inspired by President John F. Kennedy’s, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country” speech in 1961 and couldn’t wait to serve my country as the young president had asked us to do. As soon as I turned 18, I joined the United States Marine Corps, volunteering for my first tour of duty in Vietnam. After a 13-month tour, I decided to set my own example of patriotism by returning to Vietnam a second time, willing to risk my life on behalf of my country.
On Jan. 20, 1968, during my second tour of duty I was shot and paralyzed from my mid chest down and have been confined to a wheelchair ever since. I received several medals during my time in the Marine Corp, including the Purple Heart, Bronze Star with Combat V (for valor) and Navy Commendation Medal with Combat V.
After my wounding and a year recuperating with other severely wounded veterans at a Veterans Affairs (VA) Hospital paraplegic ward in the Bronx, NY, I continued to serve my country. Profoundly affected by what I saw in the hospital and my own wounding, I joined the Vietnam Veterans Against the War organization and became deeply committed to peace and nonviolence.
Inspired by Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, and Mahatma Gandhi, I often opposed my country’s foreign policy decisions. I knew there had to be a better way and was arrested numerous times over the years for protesting, remaining firmly committed to peaceful, nonviolent change.
President Washington was speaking to all of us, to the citizens of his time and those of us yet to come, he clearly understood how fragile and vulnerable our bold new democracy was and how easily it could be taken from us.
Now, as we approach the 250th anniversary of our nation’s birth and my 80th birthday on July 4th, 2026, George Washington’s prophetic farewell letter has come back to awaken us all: A cruel and arrogant dictator has arisen in our midst. A convicted criminal has arrived in the night, and our democracy is now on life support.
Fear and intimidation now rule the land. Suddenly and without warning, a brutal tyranny has arrived, and the crackdown has begun. Frightening shades of Germany, 1939: heavily armed guardsmen and Marines now occupy my city.
Universities and freedom of speech are under attack. Foreign students are being dragged from their classrooms. A U.S. senator was brutally manhandled, thrown to the floor and handcuffed. Masked agents infiltrate our neighborhoods hunting immigrants, grabbing them in front of supermarkets, schools and workplaces, even at churches, and their children’s graduation ceremonies.
Many are afraid to leave their homes, wary that the masked ICE agents will be waiting to abduct them and send them to detention centers like Alligator Alcatraz located in an alligator and snake infested Florida swamp, among other frightening detention centers. No phone call, no due process, no trial. Disappeared, lost, forever and forgotten.
This is America in the spring of 2025, brutal and cruel. I cannot help but sense this nightmare is just beginning. Many now hide, frightened of being caught. Migrant farmworkers hunted down like frightened animals in the fields of Salinas, ripped from their families and disappeared to some awful prison in El Salvador never to be seen or heard from again.
I cannot help but think of Anne Frank and her family hiding in the annex, afraid of being rounded up by the Gestapo. I think of what that must have felt like and what these poor souls in our country must be going through right now because they are afraid of leaving their homes with ICE agents not just arresting “hardened” criminals, but grabbing everyone, poor, innocent, human beings.
The Statue of Liberty weeps tonight. (“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free!”) The cruel masked government men must make their sickening quotas. “My country ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I cry, of thee I weep, of thee I rage.”
Never have the citizens of this country been so threatened, never before has life and liberty been in such peril. Not in the 250 years since our revolution have we as a people and a nation been at such a crucial turning point. These are dangerous times; a century of arrogance, brutality and aggression have come back to haunt us all.
The mask has been ripped away, the lie has been exposed, and this criminal president and administration now stand naked before the world. These are provocative words and the truth may be deeply unsettling but when will we speak the truth? When will we end this silence? How much longer will we wait until we are ready to finally admit that the tyrant now lives in our house? That this government of the people, by the people and for the people that we entrusted long ago with the sacred task of protecting life and liberty, now, by its every unjust, immoral and illegal action now threatens the freedom of us all?
Have we become so complacent, so cowered and intimidated by this administration and president that we have forgotten our own revolutionary birthright of rebellion and dissent? Have we become so paralyzed with fear that we would give up our liberty and freedom for the promise of a security that does not exist by a government and president that now threatens our very freedom?
What will it take before we realize the true reality of this crisis? How many more human beings must suffer before we finally begin to break the silence of this shameful night? Let us open up our hearts and speak in a way we have never spoken before, knowing that lives now depend on it and the very survival of our democracy is now at stake. Let not our silence in this crucial moment betray us from our destiny.
Some additional notes on our American Democracy at the crossroads
The nation is stunned. The sound of military marching music and beating of drums fills the air, whipping the crowd into a frenzy as they obediently pay homage to their dear leader — the strongman, the billionaire, the genius, as a million frightened voices begin to sing.
The song is a bit off key, but it doesn’t seem to matter as the Commander in Chief in a clown suit beats a happy tyrannical tune, “keep in step, everyone, keep in step!” the big boss shouts with glee. “Democracy is dead!” a woman shouts from the crowd and is quickly taken away.
It is almost midnight, and I notice our rights beginning to slip away. The flag is now at half-mast as an ancient bugle plays a sad and mournful tune, a dirge to a dying nation. “A dream deferred, or does it explode?” someone whispers from the crowd holding up a faded photograph of the poet Langston Hughes until they are also taken away.
As the band keeps playing the ghost of Jackson Pollock proudly claims he has been commissioned to do a painting for the 250th anniversary of America, 2026. The theme of the painting will be, “American democracy at the crossroads.” It is a gigantic canvas and the deadline to complete this great work of art is Saturday, July 4th, 2026.
Pollock has been working on the painting for nearly a year, but he has a problem. After weeks and months of effort, the canvas continues to remain blank. As the big day approaches and Pollock’s deadline looms, he throws his hands up in disgust and begins throwing paint on to canvas determined to complete his celebration of American democracy on time.
He uses his legendary drip technique. It is an extremely complex piece, layer upon layer of paint, wild swirls of reds, whites and blues followed by an almost frantic black paint flung violently across the canvas in desperation as if to say this is it. This is the best that I can do. The following morning, exhausted and near collapse, Pollack finally completes his painting and immediately falls asleep on the floor of his South Hampton studio.
Several hours later, as the bright afternoon sun enters the room, he slowly opens his eyes and, to his surprise, the canvas is again completely blank. Pollack is heartbroken and feels as if he has failed. Regardless, the 250th Anniversary committee accepts the painting where it is prominently displayed on the national mall.
The critics hail it as a masterpiece while many, including the President and his minions, call it a wonderful depiction of our democracy. “Betrayal?” whispers a homeless veteran from the crowd as he is quickly whisked away. Never have the people of our country been so threatened. Never has our democracy\
been in such grave danger. A dark shroud covers the land. The flag is drenched in blood and sorrow. The founders weep. Fear, confusion, shock, disbelief, a tyrant and unholy cabal, dark clouds, 1939, Yorktown, “The world turned upside down.”
“My country tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, land of the pilgrim’s pride, land where our fathers lied of thee, I sing, let freedom ring, let freedom ring!”
——
A disabled veteran in a wheelchair slowly wheels onto the stage and faces the audience. He clears his throat and almost in a whisper that grows in intensity, he begins to speak:
“Two centuries and five decades ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now, we are engaged in a great struggle testing whether that nation, or any other nation, so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. It is all together fitting and proper that we should do this. It is for us, the living on this Independence Day 2025, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which those who long ago have thus far so nobly advanced and that we here highly resolve that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that this government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the Earth.”
Have hope, my fellow citizens, have confidence and faith. We are on the right side of history. A powerful resistance has already begun. We will reclaim our country and not abandon it. Millions have already gone to the streets and millions more will soon follow. In the spirit of nonviolence, in the spirit of Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Gandhi, let us go forth and march together in growing confidence.
Let us always seek the moral high ground with dignity and with malice toward none; with charity for all, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace. Be patient and be not afraid. We are not alone. Remember the democracy movement and the courageous Chinese students at Tiananmen Square. Remember the brave young man who stood before the tank and refused to move.
A new nation is awaiting to be born. Have no doubt about it, these are extraordinary times. Mandela in South Africa. Václav Havel in the Prague Spring. Rosa Parks in Montgomery. King and James Bevel at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma. These are people and movements who all participated in successful struggles against the darkest nights.
As the late Congressman Allard Lowenstein once said, it is better to reclaim the country than abandon it. This is our moment in history. This is our opportunity to make history and not shirk from it.
For my country and its people, happy birthday.
Click here to watch Ron Kovic’s appearance on Scheer Intelligence.
Editor’s Note: At a moment when the once vaunted model of responsible journalism is overwhelmingly the play thing of self-serving billionaires and their corporate scribes, alternatives of integrity are desperately needed, and ScheerPost is one of them. Please support our independent journalism by contributing to our online donation platform, Network for Good, or send a check to our new PO Box. We can’t thank you enough, and promise to keep bringing you this kind of vital news.
You can also make a donation to our PayPal or subscribe to our Patreon.
Ron Kovic
Ronald Lawrence Kovic (born July 4, 1946)] is an American anti-war activist, writer, and United States Marine Corps sergeant who was wounded and paralyzed in the Vietnam War. His 1976 memoir Born on the Fourth of July was made into the film of the same name which starred actor Tom Cruise as Kovic, and was co-written by Kovic and directed by Oliver Stone.
Please share this story and help us grow our network!
This content is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International license.