Donald Trump Is No Longer the President of the United States

We must accept what is happening

I remember that day in 1985 when I accompanied my parents to a courthouse in San Francisco. As I recall, they stood before a judge and, with other new Americans all around them, said the Pledge of Allegiance and became American citizens. We then went out for sandwiches. I was in fifth grade. It was one of the most significant days of my life. That was the day that I officially became an American.

My parents recited words that opened our schooldays, words that American schoolchildren still recite every morning. We Americans pledge our allegiance to the flag and to the republic for which it stands. That is our highest political commitment. The republic may no longer stand. Donald Trump’s disregard for law and norms means that we are undergoing a coup. Our republic is quickly becoming a tyranny. Should that happen, we should remember that we have not pledged allegiance to any regime but to a republic. If the republic falls, our pledge does not oblige us to transfer our allegiance to what replaces it. Indeed, it may require us to oppose it.

"Where-ever law ends, tyranny begins," Locke wrote in his Second Treatise on Government during England’s Exclusion Crisis. At the time, Charles II was king, and English leaders worried that his heir, his brother James, would undermine English liberties. Locke sought to find a way to resist a ruler who comes to power constitutionally but threatens that very constitution.

Locke’s words are at the foundation of our political tradition. According to Locke, when a ruler demonstrates their disregard for the constitutional order, they lose legitimacy; we can treat them as we would a "thief and a robber." Even in the state of nature, before governments are established, we have the right to protect our lives, liberties, and estates. Once government is established, we rely on the rule of law to protect us. But when “whosoever in authority exceeds the power given him by the law and makes use of the force he has under his command, to compass that upon the subject, which the law allows not, ceases in that to be a magistrate; and, acting without authority, may be opposed, as any other man, who by force invades the right of another.”

From this perspective, Trump is just another highway brigand, not the President of the United States. Trump came to office after winning a popular majority and with his party holding majorities in both houses. He could have used the constitutional system established by the Framers to pursue his policy priorities, many of which are popular with American voters, including civil service reform, immigration, and trade. Instead, in his first weeks in office Trump, with the aid of Elon Musk, has consistently violated the Constitution and willingly broken laws.

A republic is “an Empire of Laws and not of Men,” John Adams wrote in 1776, but Trump has sought to replace law with his will. Take the case of TikTok. American companies seeking Trump’s favor—or worried about being the subject of Trump’s anger—have had to choose between obeying federal law prohibiting TikTok or Trump’s executive order permitting it. When the will of one man is put above law, and when Americans are worried about the consequences of obeying the law and angering the man, we are not free.

Since his first term, Trump has also made clear that he is willing to use extra-constitutional violence and coercion to silence his opponents. Local, state, and national leaders fear for their and their families’ safety. FBI agents who worked on the January 6 investigations have asked the courts to prevent Trump from releasing their names publicly to protect their families from harm. Drawing from Victor Orbán’s playbook in Hungary, Trump is using the power of the federal purse and lawsuits to undermine society’s institutions, including universities, the press, and nonprofits. He and Musk are willing to call out individual journalists by name. All Americans have reasons to fear that Trump or Musk could unsettle their lives and work by targeting them on social media.

Locke warned his readers not to allow specious arguments gaslight them. Even the executive’s constitutional prerogative can be “employed contrary to the end for which it was given,” he argued. For example, while the Constitution authorizes the president to oversee the Justice Department, Trump is turning the law into a tool for his personal rule. Trump has promised to use the Justice Department to seek retribution on his political enemies, excuse the illegal actions of his supporters, and punish FBI officials who sought to hold him accountable to law. He has taken away the security details of former officials whose lives are threatened to demonstrate that he will not protect those who cross him.

Locke recognized that people cannot resist every time a ruler transgresses the law. Doing so “will unhinge and overturn all polities, and, instead of government and order, leave nothing but anarchy and confusion.” Instead, one must look for a pattern. Trump’s actions form that pattern. Locke urged his readers to trust what they were seeing: when “a long train of actions shew the councils all tending the same way, how can a man any more hinder himself from being persuaded in his own mind, which way things are going.” Drawing on Locke, the Continental Congress wrote in the Declaration of Independence, “a Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.”

Locke urged restraint so long as “the injured party may be relieved, and his damages repaired by appeal to the law.” Americans are turning to the courts to reign in Trump’s unconstitutional and illegal actions, hoping that their appeals to law will protect the republic. To Locke, so long as courts can maintain the rule of law, there is a remedy for an unconstitutional ruler’s harms.

Yet we cannot rely on the courts to save us. The courts do not move fast enough to contain the damage to the republic caused by Trump’s determination to undermine America’s institutions and laws. Courts also deal with the specific issues before them rather than Trump’s pattern of action. Finally, in our constitutional order, it is not a sign of health when the courts are forced to police the executive branch. Even if the courts could stop most of Trump’s illegal orders, they may not be able to interfere with Trump’s use of legal tools and extralegal pressure to consolidate his power and to silence his opponents. Trump and Musk have the resources to fund primary challenges against any Republican who questions him. Trump is willing to file frivolous lawsuits to cow the media into silence. Moreover, Trump’s capricious and unpredictable actions encourage individuals and institutions to obey in advance rather than risk becoming the focus of Trump’s attacks.

It is vital therefore that Congress perform its constitutional duty and remove him from office. As voters, we need to make clear that we expect members of Congress to uphold their obligations and protect our freedom. Otherwise, Americans will be subject to a pretender who claims the power but not the legitimate authority of the presidency. The implications of Congress’s failure to uphold the constitutional order are immense: Trump’s actions threaten the legitimacy of the government itself. Locke argued that when “a single person, or prince, sets up his own arbitrary will in place of the laws, which are the will of the society, declared by the legislative,” government is effectively dissolved.

We are in frightening times. Even writing these words gives me significant pause because they enunciate clearly what we would all rather avoid saying out loud. It requires seeing what our eyes do not want to see, what they would rather refuse to see. We are no longer living under the protection of the Constitution. We may be subject to force—from the government or from extralegal actors—designed to silence us. Our lives, our families, our liberties, our property are subject to the arbitrary will of a man who has demonstrated his capacity for capricious and vengeful action.

It is extremely sad for me to write this. Like most immigrants, I am patriotic and love my country. I believe in the American Dream. If I can remember the day that I officially became an American, I will with great sadness also remember the day that the republic to which I have pledged my allegiance ceased to exist. I remain committed, however, to the republic for which our flag stands.

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