Try Doing Something

While the nation burns, Democratic leadership clings to decorum. That needs to change.

Not long ago, Republican leaders quietly advised their members to stop attending town halls. The reason? Too many constituents were showing up angry—demanding answers about the state of the nation and holding GOP politicians accountable for a party that has spiraled into extremism.

Unfortunately, leaders within the Democratic Party squandered an opportunity to amplify those public voices and fortify them with real political action. Instead, they chose to tiptoe around the conflicts arising across the nation. They were more concerned with maintaining decorum than with defending democracy.

Republicans often express concern about the level of divisiveness in the country, seemingly unaware of their own role in it. They argue that Democrats should set aside their differences with Republicans for the sake of cooperation. According to Republicans, eliminating divisiveness could enable Congress to become a more productive governing body, rather than remaining bogged down in pointless arguments. While the idea of unity is appealing—after all, nobody enjoys unnecessary conflict—the call for cooperation can be quite misleading. It is insincere to claim that divisiveness harms the country while simultaneously amplifying it.

The reality is that divisiveness is just another term for conflict—and conflict is not inherently negative. Conflict is how we resolve our differences when we disagree on something important. When a government fails to address the needs of its people, conflict becomes not only inevitable—it becomes necessary.

History shows that conflict is resolved in one of two ways: peaceful compromise or war. That’s it. There is no third option. Capitulation—what some of today’s Democratic leaders practice—is not a peaceful resolution. It is surrender. It is a form of war in which one side gives up without a fight, usually to avoid the cost of conflict or because they no longer believe the outcome is worth the fight.

And that’s where we are now.

As the Republican Party drifts closer to authoritarianism, targeting immigrants, silencing dissent, and dismantling civil rights protections, many Democratic leaders have chosen to respond with civility rather than confrontation. Strongly worded letters replace action. Tepid press conferences stand in for real resistance. And the institutions that are supposed to safeguard justice quietly accommodate a regime that breaks the law with impunity. Even the justice system is unable to keep up; it acts far too slowly to keep pace with the rate of attacks on our precious democracy.

It’s not that the Democratic Party itself is beyond redemption—it’s not. But its current leadership has grown dangerously comfortable with capitulation. Leaders like Hakeem Jeffries and Chuck Schumer appear more interested in preserving bipartisan theater than in protecting the people their party has long pledged to defend.

Consider what's happening right now: Asylum seekers are being deported en masse without due process. Protestors are being abducted off the streets by unidentified federal agents and transported to distant prisons. And there are plans to expand Guantanamo Bay—a U.S. military facility out of reach of our justice system—to circumvent constitutional protections and escape the eyes of international justice.

These are not hypotheticals. These are not slippery slope warnings. These are things happening now, right now. And the response from Democratic leadership has been, at best, a shrug disguised as statesmanship.

Meanwhile, corporate America is falling in line. The Washington Post abandoned its endorsement of Kamala Harris during the last election cycle. Goldman Sachs, Google, Target, McDonald’s, Ford, and others have all made quiet but unmistakable concessions to the current regime occupying the White House. Each one may claim they’re just trying to stay “neutral,” but the cumulative effect is not neutrality—it’s collapse.

And collapse doesn’t happen all at once. It begins with a mindset—an acceptance of defeat, a belief that nothing can be done. That mindset spreads until it becomes contagious. Until surrender feels inevitable. Until people stop fighting because they no longer believe they can win.

But they can win. We can win.

Because the truth is, the Democratic Party isn’t just its leadership. It’s also made up of influential leaders like Bernie Sanders, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and Jasmine Crockett—people who are still fighting, still calling out injustice, and still refusing to surrender. And it’s made up of millions of ordinary Americans who believe that liberty and justice are not optional. That they’re worth defending—even when it's uncomfortable, even when it's hard.

That’s where real power lies—not in Congress, not in corporate boardrooms, but in the hands of the people.

Democracy is not a spectator sport. You don’t win by hoping your team scores more points—you win by showing up, again and again, with your body, your voice, your vote, and your dollars. You win by holding leaders accountable—all leaders, from both parties—when they fail to act in the face of conflict.

It’s time to stop treating the fight for democracy as someone else’s job. It’s ours. That means pushing the Democratic Party to live up to its own values. That means demanding new leadership that will stand up to extremism instead of shrinking from it. That means flooding the streets, organizing locally, confronting injustice, and refusing to let despair have the last word.

This is not a time for quiet reflection. This is not a time for decorum. This is a time for bold action.

History is watching. It will separate the cowards from the courageous. Generations before us spilled their blood so that we might enjoy the fruits of liberty and freedom. And now it’s our turn.

This is our time. This is our fight.