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April 25, 2025. Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Judge Hannah Dugan, a sitting state circuit court judge with a record of public service and legal moderation, was led from her courthouse in handcuffs by federal agents. The charges: obstruction of justice and harboring a fugitive — for allegedly escorting an undocumented immigrant out a non-public courthouse hallway to avoid ICE detention.
There was no trial. No ethics review. No state-level censure. No call to the Wisconsin Judicial Commission. Just the FBI, under the command of a Department of Justice now staffed almost entirely by Federalist Society loyalists, showing up at the door of the judiciary with a warrant and a message.
And that message was simple:
Obey, or be next.
This was not a bureaucratic misunderstanding. It was not a routine legal process. It was a public execution of judicial independence. And for those still pretending that American democracy is merely “under strain” or “in crisis,” let this serve as a correction. That era is over.
What we are living through now is the death of American democracy.
It did not end with tanks. It ended with paperwork. With retroactive charges and pre-cleared talking points. With an undocumented man whose name will never matter to history, and a judge whose name now will.
And more importantly — it ended with applause from those who have been waiting years for this rupture: those who believe courts are instruments of state power, not checks upon it.
Judge Dugan’s arrest wasn’t the beginning of anything. It was the culmination — the final Rubicon crossed by an executive branch that no longer recognizes judicial restraint, institutional norms, or the very concept of co-equal governance. It comes on the heels of Trump’s second-term security clearance purges, loyalty pledges, ICE empowerment directives, threats to annex Canadian and Greenlandic territory, and open disdain for NATO. In that context, the arrest of a state judge isn’t shocking. It’s strategic.
This isn’t hypothetical. It’s operational.
When the sovereign decides that the law no longer applies to them — and begins punishing those who insist otherwise — you are no longer living under a constitutional republic. You are living in a regime where power is legal by virtue of being power. And when that reality is enforced on the last institution capable of dissent — the judiciary — it is over.
There will be elections. There will be patriotic speeches. There may even be moments that feel like hope. But on April 25, 2025, the American experiment flatlined.
And unless we are honest about what just happened, the post-democratic state will only tighten its grip.
The German legal theorist Carl Schmitt, no friend to democracy himself, once wrote that:
With those nine words, Schmitt defined the power not of kings or presidents, but of regimes: any system that reserves for itself the right to suspend law in the name of stability. For decades, political scientists held up the U.S. Constitution as an enduring firewall against such a collapse — a structure of checks, balances, and procedural restraints designed specifically to prevent the centralization of exception-making power.
But that firewall is gone now.
The death of American democracy isn’t an event like an assassination or coup. It’s a process — one that ends the moment law is no longer binding on those who wield power. And in arresting a sitting judge for exercising discretionary courtroom authority, the Trump regime did exactly what Schmitt predicted: it suspended the rule of law in the name of sovereign enforcement.
Judge Hannah Dugan didn’t order a rebellion. She didn’t violate the Constitution. She allegedly allowed a migrant — represented by counsel — to exit her courthouse via a side corridor. That act, in any other administration, would have been subject to judicial review, not federal indictment. But under the Trump doctrine of exceptionalism, her real crime was asserting that the judiciary could operate independently of executive power.
And that, in Schmittian terms, is the unforgivable sin — defying the sovereign’s claim to the exception.
Democracy is not just elections. It’s not just popular sovereignty. It is — at its core — the rule of law applied universally, and the division of power so no one branch can dictate outcomes to the others. Liberal constitutional democracy depends on judicial autonomy, not just as a feature of the state, but as the last guardrail between executive preference and legal legitimacy.
Once the judiciary becomes subordinate — not through legislation or reform, but through intimidation, surveillance, and arrest — it is no longer a check. It is a tool. And once courts become tools, you no longer live in a constitutional democracy.
You live in a post-democratic regime.
Let’s be clear: the death of American democracy did not begin with Hannah Dugan. It began when the courts allowed Trump’s legal team to walk away from documented obstruction, election interference, and incitement to insurrection in his first term. It deepened when a stacked Supreme Court reversed voting rights protections and granted expanding immunity to the executive. But it culminated here — with handcuffs on a judge.
Schmitt would recognize this moment instantly. Not as a breakdown, but as a reassertion of the sovereign over the liberal order. Trump is not hiding this. He has publicly claimed, repeatedly, that courts “belong to” him. He has spoken of “my judges,” “my generals,” “my ICE.” And now — they enforce his exception.
That is no longer democracy. That is legalized exceptionalism under a regime of executive power.
In any functioning democracy, this arrest would have provoked an immediate constitutional crisis: resignations, mass bar protests, judicial shutdowns. But in this moment? Nothing. No mass walkout. No parliamentary rebuke. No Article I defense from Congress. The system didn’t resist. It adjusted. Quietly.
This is how you know it’s over. The system didn’t even try to save itself.
In political science terms, we’ve passed into what Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt call competitive authoritarianism — a regime that mimics the trappings of democracy (elections, courts, legislatures) while hollowing them out from within. Dugan’s arrest marks the moment that even the appearance of judicial independence could no longer be maintained.
By the time Judge Hannah Dugan was led out of her courtroom in handcuffs, the death of American democracy had already become operational.
Her arrest was not the beginning — it was the moment the regime stopped pretending it needed to justify itself.
For months before April 25, the U.S. federal government had been undergoing a systematic transformation. Under Trump’s second-term directives — codified through his 2024 executive orders and fast-tracked by the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 blueprint — the civil service was no longer a neutral apparatus. It was being reshaped into an instrument of personal loyalty and political compliance.
In February 2025, more than 2,100 federal employees — across agencies like the Department of Justice, the State Department, and the Department of Homeland Security — were placed on immediate review under “expedited loyalty screening protocols.”
What did those protocols include?
Employees who failed were dismissed. Some were placed under internal surveillance. The message was clear: loyalty to the executive superseded duty to the law.
In a functioning democracy, civil servants are bound to the Constitution.
In a dying one, they’re bound to the ruler.
By March 2025, new hires at the DOJ, ICE, and CBP were required to sign pre-emptive non-disclosure and allegiance agreements that included:
These loyalty mechanisms were modeled on private-sector NDAs but enforced by federal clearance suspension. In effect, the administration created a political pre-screening test for all government service.
And it worked. Agencies hollowed themselves out.
By April, the American state no longer had “neutral institutions.” It had loyal enforcers.
All of this cleared the way for the weapon that struck Judge Dugan — ICE’s new mandate under the April 8 “Executive Order on Civic Integrity and Enforcement.”
That EO:
And crucially, it stripped discretion from prosecutors, giving DHS the ability to request direct FBI support in enforcement actions.
This is the architecture that enabled Dugan’s arrest.
A judge assisting an immigrant defendant?
In the rule-of-law era: a grey-area ethics inquiry.
In post-democratic America: an act of sovereign defiance.
This didn’t happen overnight. It’s the culmination of a twenty-year slide, accelerated under Bush, extended under Obama, tested under Trump I, and now cemented under Trump II.
What we see now is not just “executive overreach.” It’s the reconstruction of the presidency as a unitary sovereign, with unchecked power over immigration, surveillance, civil service appointments, and judicial enforcement.
The arrest of a judge wasn’t an overreaction.
It was a logical conclusion to this restructured state.
And that’s why it matters:
The death of American democracy wasn’t a thunderclap. It was a contract. Signed in silence. Enforced with badges.
By the time Judge Hannah Dugan was arrested on April 25, 2025, the American executive had already shown that its turn toward sovereign exceptionalism extended far beyond U.S. borders. The collapse of institutional constraint at home was mirrored by a brazen rejection of international norms abroad. These aren’t parallel trends — they’re expressions of the same authoritarian logic.
And they’re all publicly documented.
In a March 2025 interview with Time Magazine, Donald Trump said he was “really not trolling” when asked about previous comments regarding Canada becoming the 51st state. He went further, stating:
“They’ve got a lot of land, they’re sitting on the north, they don’t want to drill, and they’ve got a very bad government… a lot of people would be open to something new.”
This wasn’t framed as satire. It was presented as a real idea, rooted in Trump’s belief that Canadian leadership was “wasting its resources” and “weak on defense.” This kind of language — open talk of absorbing a democratic ally — would’ve triggered a foreign policy firestorm under any previous administration. In 2025, it drew little institutional resistance.
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau responded quickly, saying the idea had “a snowball’s chance in hell” and that “Canada is a sovereign country, not a state you can buy or bluff into surrender.”
But that’s not the point. The point is that a sitting U.S. president publicly entertained territorial absorption of a G7 democracy and nobody in the U.S. federal system pushed back. That’s what changes when the state is governed by loyalty, not law.
In the same interview, Trump revived interest in purchasing or even annexing Greenland, calling it a “strategic priority” — again, not as a joke. His rationale included:
While the idea was widely mocked during his first term in 2019, Trump was now treating it seriously — citing prior congressional discussions and even referencing U.S. military airfields already in Greenland.
The Danish and Greenlandic governments flatly rejected any notion of sale or negotiation, as they had before. But again, the signal was sent: the U.S. under Trump no longer respects the sovereignty of small democratic nations when resources or symbolic control are at stake.
In early March 2025, Trump made headlines at a campaign rally when he said:
“If you’re in NATO and you don’t pay your bills, maybe we won’t come to help you next time.”
This wasn’t new rhetoric — Trump had criticized NATO members before. But this time, he linked his threats directly to Article 5, the core mutual defense clause of the alliance.
In his words:
“I told them — if you’re not paying what you owe, and somebody attacks, I might say, good luck. Figure it out yourself.”
This isn’t Trump’s first rodeo with NATO threats. But in 2025, the difference is:
There is no institutional counterbalance left inside the U.S. executive.
On April 22, 2025, Trump unveiled a proposed Ukraine “peace plan” that included:
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy rejected the plan outright, calling it “a betrayal of Ukraine’s sovereignty” and “a gift to Putin.”
Axios reported that senior U.S. officials were blindsided by the plan’s timing and content, and that the proposal had not been coordinated with NATO partners or the Ukrainian government.
This marks a complete reversal from bipartisan U.S. support of Ukraine’s resistance to Russian aggression — and a return to transactional diplomacy rooted in executive discretion.
When a government no longer honors alliances, treaties, or mutual defense — because the executive decides they’re inconvenient — you are watching the state move from liberal democracy to imperial opportunism.
That’s the significance of Judge Dugan’s arrest:
It wasn’t just a message to U.S. judges. It was a structural confirmation that the executive now acts without restraint — internally or globally.
This is what the death of American democracy looks like abroad:
On the morning of April 25, 2025, FBI agents arrested Judge Hannah Dugan, a sitting Milwaukee County Circuit Court judge, at her workplace. The Department of Justice announced that Dugan had been charged with two federal offenses:
According to the federal criminal complaint, the charges stem from an incident that occurred one week earlier, on April 18, when Judge Dugan allegedly facilitated the exit of an undocumented immigrant, Eduardo Flores-Ruiz, through a non-public corridor of the courthouse to evade arrest by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
The DOJ alleges that Flores-Ruiz was the subject of a civil immigration detainer and that ICE officers were present at the courthouse during a hearing involving Flores-Ruiz. Prosecutors claim that Judge Dugan took actions that interfered with efforts to detain him and did so with the intent to obstruct a lawful enforcement action.
The statute under which Dugan is charged — 18 U.S.C. § 1505 — is typically used in cases involving obstruction of federal proceedings, including agency actions. The second charge, under 18 U.S.C. § 1071, criminalizes knowingly harboring or concealing any person from arrest, provided a federal warrant exists or an arrest is lawfully sought.
As of April 25, the DOJ has not publicly disclosed whether a criminal arrest warrant for Flores-Ruiz was issued, or whether only a civil immigration detainer was in effect. This detail may be crucial to the legal viability of the charges.
Judge Dugan has denied wrongdoing through a statement issued by her attorney, asserting that her actions were within the scope of normal courtroom procedure and did not constitute criminal conduct. She was released pending further proceedings, with a federal arraignment expected in mid-May.
Within hours of the arrest, several national judicial and legal organizations issued public statements:
No state-level judicial disciplinary body — such as the Wisconsin Judicial Commission — had, as of April 25, initiated any formal action or issued a statement.
While Judge Dugan has not been disciplined by the Wisconsin judiciary, and no previous allegations of misconduct are known, her arrest has sparked debate across the legal field about the implications for judicial discretion and the relationship between federal immigration enforcement and state courts.
Legal experts cited by The Guardian, Reuters, and New York Magazine agree on one point: this case is unprecedented in modern U.S. legal history.
“This appears to be the first time in decades that a sitting judge has been criminally charged for conduct occurring in the execution of courtroom duties.”
“This is a deeply troubling escalation. Judges must be able to manage their courtrooms without the threat of federal prosecution for perceived non-cooperation with immigration enforcement.”
There is no record of any other state judge in recent history being charged criminally for actions taken in chambers or court proceedings related to immigration enforcement.
The arrest has prompted concerns not just about immigration policy, but about the erosion of institutional boundaries between the federal executive and the independent judiciary.
While no direct statement has been made by the U.S. Supreme Court, several Democratic members of Congress — including Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse and Rep. Pramila Jayapal — released statements warning that the move could set a dangerous precedent.
To date, there is no evidence that the Department of Justice consulted with any national judicial ethics body or with the Wisconsin Supreme Court prior to pursuing criminal charges. The arrest appears to have been a direct action coordinated between the FBI and the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Eastern District of Wisconsin, which has been under new Trump-aligned leadership since late March.
Judge Dugan’s arrest is not an isolated event. It comes amid a broader shift in the relationship between the federal executive and democratic institutions, including:
While the legal merits of the case against Dugan will be litigated in court, the implications for judicial independence are already clear. As legal scholar Melissa Murray noted:
“Even if the case is dismissed, the signal has been sent: disagree with federal immigration enforcement, and you may face criminal charges — even if you’re a judge.”
The death of American democracy is not marked by the absence of elections. It is marked by the criminalization of constitutional roles — and the redefinition of law as compliance with executive will. Judge Hannah Dugan’s arrest — regardless of its legal outcome — represents a historical rupture between the judiciary and the federal government.
What happens next is not just a legal matter.
It’s a matter of whether the system has any remaining will to defend itself.
In the hours after Judge Hannah Dugan’s arrest, television anchors and press secretaries repeated the familiar refrain: “Let the process play out.” They reassured viewers that the system still works. That checks remain in place. That due process is alive and well.
But here’s the truth:
That’s what we’re seeing now. And it has a name in political science:
Competitive authoritarianism.
Coined by Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way, the term describes regimes that maintain the surface trappings of democracy — elections, courts, legislatures, constitutions — while undermining the rules and institutions that give those things meaning. In competitive authoritarian states:
Sound familiar?
Let’s walk through it:
In other words: the architecture of democracy remains, but its foundation is gone.
Levitsky and Way identified this phenomenon in the early 2000s across a range of countries:
All of them:
And all of them drifted from democracy into something else — a hybrid form where the regime could claim legitimacy while denying its substance.
The U.S. is now following that same path.
The arrest of a judge is not proof of authoritarianism. It’s the consequence of the system already shifting into one.
In authoritarian regimes, most judges are not removed. Most journalists are not jailed. Most bureaucrats are not purged. They simply learn the limits of what can be said, what can be done, and who can be challenged.
That’s already happening now:
This is how a fear state forms: not with secret police, but with an ambient awareness that speaking freely may ruin you.
And all of it is fully compatible with:
Because those things still happen — just under a regime where real power flows in only one direction, and accountability is purely symbolic.
Legal scholar Kim Lane Scheppele coined the term “authoritarian legalism” to describe regimes that use the law not to limit power, but to formalize it. Under this model:
The Dugan case is a perfect example:
But what law enforcement chooses to enforce — and against whom — is everything.
That’s what separates a constitutional republic from a legalist authoritarian state. It’s not the presence of law — it’s the selective, politicized application of it.
So here’s where we are:
This is not the same as fascism. It’s not even totalitarianism.
It’s a controlled system masquerading as democracy, where opposition is permitted only when it doesn’t matter — and crushed when it might.
The death of American democracy has already happened at the structural level.
What we’re living in now is a shell — polished, patriotic, and entirely hollowed out.
The arrest of a judge in Milwaukee won’t just be felt in courtrooms. It will be felt in diplomatic backchannels, defense councils, and war rooms in Brussels, Kyiv, Ottawa, and beyond.
Because the world is watching — and it no longer sees America as a beacon of democratic stability.
The death of American democracy doesn’t just rewrite the U.S. Constitution in practice.
It rewrites the global order.
Since 1945, the international system has relied on a basic assumption:
The United States, regardless of party, is governed by law. That’s what made:
Every one of those depends on a shared belief that the U.S. government:
That belief is collapsing.
This triggered emergency internal reviews in Brussels, as reported by The Guardian and Der Spiegel, and calls within the European Parliament for a redefinition of European defense autonomy.
These are extraordinary statements — ones that would have been unthinkable a decade ago.
But with courts under threat, and the executive showing contempt for alliance obligations, NATO is drifting toward a crisis of confidence.
On April 22, Trump unveiled a “peace plan” for Ukraine that proposed:
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy rejected the plan outright, calling it:
“A surrender agreement — written in Moscow, delivered by Washington.”
He further warned that “American democracy is our last shield” — a direct plea to U.S. institutions not to abandon their role as global defenders of self-determination.
But Judge Dugan’s arrest — a sitting judge prosecuted for discretion — only reinforced the impression that U.S. institutions are no longer able, or willing, to resist the executive’s impulses.
Ukraine’s military depends on U.S. support. But its faith depends on the idea of America as a democracy.
That idea is collapsing.
In March, Trump told Time Magazine that he was “really not trolling” about Canada becoming the 51st state — a comment tied to Canadian energy policy, Arctic sovereignty, and defense spending.
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau responded sharply:
“Canada is not for sale. Not for annexation. Not for intimidation.”
But Canadian defense analysts and foreign policy officials are taking the comment seriously. One former CSIS director told CBC News on April 23:
“What matters isn’t whether Trump means it literally. What matters is that no one around him is stopping it — and that reflects a breakdown in U.S. institutional sanity.”
Canada has now:
America isn’t just an unstable ally now. It’s a potential liability.
When the U.S. executive arrests judges, silences prosecutors, and walks away from international norms, other regimes take notes.
Already, Russia’s foreign ministry has called the Dugan arrest proof of “Western hypocrisy.” China’s Global Times published an editorial titled:
“America Cannot Lecture Anyone on Judicial Independence.”
Authoritarian governments will now point to the U.S. every time they jail an opposition judge, raid a media outlet, or suspend civil liberties. And unlike before — they’ll have footage to back it up.
The U.S. used to say: “We are not like them.”
Now it says: “They do it too.”
That distinction mattered. It no longer exists.
We are entering a geopolitical landscape where:
It’s not that the world has stopped functioning. It’s that it now functions without American moral leadership — and increasingly, without American consent.
The death of American democracy has global consequences not because of what the U.S. says — but because of what it no longer can credibly say.
Canada has always depended on the United States — for trade, defense, intelligence sharing, and diplomatic cover. Not in a submissive sense, but in a structural one: Canadian sovereignty, strategy, and stability are built with the assumption that the U.S. is a functioning democracy.
That assumption collapsed on April 25, 2025, with the arrest of Judge Hannah Dugan — the moment the executive branch of the U.S. federal government used criminal prosecution to punish judicial discretion. But for Canadian policymakers, the deeper shock has been cumulative:
The death of American democracy has left Canada with a historically unprecedented challenge:
How do you coexist with a destabilized superpower you cannot ignore, cannot fully trust, and cannot openly confront?
In March 2025, Trump told Time Magazine he was “really not trolling” when he suggested that Canada could become the 51st state. While Canadian officials dismissed it, the idea was repeated at Trump campaign rallies, drawing applause and headlines. This came just weeks after Trump revived calls to acquire Greenland.
While these statements may seem theatrical, they are being taken seriously by Ottawa’s defense and foreign policy communities. A senior official at Global Affairs Canada told CBC News (April 23) that the government is “reassessing regional sovereignty assumptions in light of deteriorating U.S. restraint.”
Behind closed doors:
The arrest of a judge in the United States for courtroom conduct creates a dangerous precedent for binational legal cooperation.
Canada’s extradition treaties with the U.S. are built on the “like-minded democracy” doctrine — the assumption that both countries operate under comparable rule-of-law standards. The Dugan case puts this in doubt.
Multiple Canadian legal scholars — including constitutional experts at the University of Toronto and McGill — have raised questions about whether future extradition to the U.S. could violate Section 7 of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which guarantees life, liberty, and security of the person.
As of now, no federal cases have been paused or blocked — but Canadian courts have discretion to deny extradition where the requesting country cannot guarantee a fair legal process.
That threshold is now in question.
Under the Canada–U.S. Safe Third Country Agreement, asylum seekers entering either country at official land border crossings are required to request protection in the first “safe country” they arrive in.
But the agreement is conditional:
The U.S. must be considered a safe country for refugees — meaning it offers access to fair hearings, judicial review, and protection from arbitrary detention.
With the arrest of a judge, mounting ICE raids, and legal scholars warning of executive overreach, multiple Canadian advocacy groups are petitioning Ottawa to suspend the agreement.
Canada’s security relationship with the U.S. is anchored in:
Each is now under pressure.
NORAD
NATO
Five Eyes
As of April 25, no formal withdrawals from NORAD, NATO, or Five Eyes are underway — but operational trust is eroding.
Polls conducted by Abacus Data and Nanos Research in the wake of Trump’s second inauguration showed:
That’s not a crisis of diplomacy — that’s a crisis of democratic proximity.
Canadians aren’t just watching America collapse.
They’re asking what happens when the collapse starts reaching across the border.
The death of American democracy has immediate consequences for Canada:
The answers are not clear. What is clear is this:
The era of quiet assumption is over. Canada can no longer treat the United States as an unshakable democratic partner. It must treat it — carefully, strategically — as a potentially rogue state with nuclear weapons and global leverage.
And it must do so without losing itself in the process.
On April 25, 2025, Judge Hannah Dugan was arrested at her courthouse in Milwaukee. That’s not hyperbole. That’s not subtext. That’s the fact — confirmed by the U.S. Department of Justice and reported across every major outlet in the country.
She was not dragged away for embezzlement. Not for corruption. Not for some clear-cut act of misconduct. She was arrested for allegedly allowing an undocumented man to leave through a hallway — an act tied to courtroom discretion, not criminal conspiracy.
And in that moment, the last façade of balance, independence, and legality within the American system cracked — visibly, audibly, irreparably.
This was the event many feared, some predicted, and most hoped would never materialize:
A sitting judge prosecuted by the executive for defying its will.
Not through impeachment. Not through review. But through force.
The death of American democracy did not come with a gunshot, a tank column, or a constitutional amendment. It came through a courthouse doorway — with a warrant, a press release, and a message: You are no longer independent. You are in our way.
This wasn’t the first sign. It was the final confirmation of a pattern now too solid to deny:
Each alone could be explained, contextualized, or litigated.
But together?
They are not a series of unfortunate coincidences.
They are a deliberate realignment of the state into a system where power is no longer checked — it is simply exercised.
That is not democracy. That is a competitive authoritarian regime wearing democratic clothing.
America still holds elections. The courts still sit. The press still prints.
But now:
This is the quiet logic of post-democracy:
You don’t need a dictator if you can engineer silence.
And nothing engineers silence like showing the world that even a judge isn’t safe.
The international community has spent decades relying on the U.S. as the anchor of democratic stability — through alliances, trade, judicial cooperation, and deterrence.
That is over now.
Authoritarian regimes are already using the arrest of Judge Dugan to deflect criticism and justify their own repression. Russia, China, Hungary, and Turkey have all responded — explicitly or implicitly — by citing U.S. hypocrisy. And they’re not wrong.
The U.S. government can no longer say “we are different.”
It can only say “you do it too.”
The United States is now in the phase where institutional muscle memory continues to operate — the courts, the Congress, the agencies. But the ligaments holding them together — trust, law, shared constraint — have been torn.
You may still see judicial rulings, elections, news segments.
But they no longer guarantee anything. Not fairness. Not balance. Not constraint.
Democracy is not a flag. It’s not a vibe. It’s a structure. And that structure just fell.
This isn’t about panic. It’s about realism.
Canada, Europe, and every allied democracy now has to:
Silence — for Canada — is no longer neutrality.
It’s complicity.
On April 25, 2025, a judge in a U.S. courtroom was arrested for how she ran her court. That’s not a rumor. That’s the state’s official position.
You do not need to wait for a future moment to declare the republic fallen.
This was it.
The death of American democracy didn’t come with a civil war. It came with federal charges and a warning shot to the judiciary.
What remains now is spectacle — a hollow system that still moves but no longer decides anything independently.
Americans do not live in a constitutional republic anymore.
They live in the aftermath of one.
And unless they name that truth — now — they will soon forget what it ever meant to live under one.