Ivey is vice president of legislative affairs and national security for Freedom Technologies, Inc. and a Navy veteran. Nicholson is a government consultant, adjunct professor at Georgetown University Law Center and an Army veteran.
Vice President Harris has been widely criticized for her assessment that “our democracy” presented one of the biggest threats to national security. Perhaps the vice president was more correct than the critics are giving her credit for, but the threat she identified (state laws with the proffered goal of ballot integrity) does nothing to address another insidious harm to democracy demonstrated over the last 20 years.
This past Sept. 11 marked the 20th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on U.S. soil that resulted in almost 3,000 deaths and injuries to several thousand more. Our response to those attacks ushered in the longest uninterrupted period of combat operations in the nation’s history. Yet, although the 9/11 attacks affronted all Americans, only a small percentage of them have sought military service since that tragic day. But beyond the aggressive exercise of presidential war powers across at least four administrations and decades of congressional acquiescence, the people of the United States must also bear some responsibility for their inaction.
The impact of extended deployments and combat operations on military personnel and their families is well documented. Indeed, the current and previous administrations have taken several important steps to support military veterans and their families. Those measures, however, neither absolve the American public from its obligation to participate in a discourse on the appropriate use of military force, nor do they address the increasing attenuation between the American people and the wars fought on their behalf.
In a Nov. 10, 2021, Wall Street Journal opinion piece, H.R. McMaster asked: “If civilian leaders send troops into battle without a commitment to victory, who will sign up to serve? ” Indeed, those who served in support of Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere have wrestled with mixed feelings of anger, sadness and futility over the botched withdrawal and subsequent humanitarian crisis. And while an increasingly small percentage of our nation has served in the military, most Americans, regardless of political beliefs or social status, can agree that the haunting images of Afghans desperately clinging to the landing gear of U.S. military aircraft do not reflect our national aspirations.
But McMaster assigns fault too narrowly for our failed military interventions overseas. Much has been written about what went wrong in Afghanistan, Iraq, Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere. Even more has been written about which American president and who in Congress should bear the blame. But accountability goes beyond Presidents Bush, Obama, Trump and Biden or Congress. And if a democratically elected president and Congress are to blame, then we, the people, must share this burden. Democracy not only confers rights, but requires responsibilities. Our national values demand this.
Reflecting on the anniversary of 9/11 and faced with significant national and international challenges, we are presented with an opportunity to rediscover our values and perhaps bridge our divisiveness by making a principled examination of compulsory national service, whether in uniform or in other capacities.
Although compulsory military service (“the draft”) may connect the American public to our war efforts most demonstrably, military leaders historically have resisted the draft as the best means of filling the ranks of a professional force. But compulsory national service differs from a military draft in significant ways. Americans could fulfill service obligations in a range of organizations — in federal, state or local government, with an NGO, or even a public-private partnership — doing something they want to do. Further, much of the unfairness associated with the draft is nullified by compulsory national service because everyone would have to serve.
American public attitudes towards national service are changing. A 2017 Gallup poll revealed nearly half of Americans are in favor of a year of national service — the highest level of public support for universal service in almost two decades. Similarly, a 2021 Voices for National Service poll found 71 percent of young adults (aged 18-24) would consider or have already signed up for AmeriCorps. Beyond the heroics and horrors of war described in Tom Brokaw’s “The Greatest Generation,” a common thread among the Americans profiled in this book was a desire to return home, assimilate into a community, and continue to serve in some meaningful way. Although the rising generation of Americans may not go to war, their sentiments reflect the American desire to serve and be a part of a community.
While the vast majority of Americans may choose not to join the military, opportunity for service abounds. Nationally mandated service with options beyond the armed services would allow a rising generation of Americans to make a difference, develop skills and connect with fellow Americans by supporting a variety of initiatives, whether it be Covid-19 response, teaching in underserved communities, rebuilding the nation’s infrastructure, serving in the Peace Corps, or a number of other worthy endeavors. Perhaps President Biden’s legislative agenda may gain more support by tying certain benefits to a service requirement (such as student loan forgiveness).
With significant global threats emanating from numerous vectors, the next 20 years are poised to bring about a global reckoning. If the United States wishes to remain a world leader — both economically and morally — we have to return to our common values at home. National service could have a unifying effect that our nation needs. We must learn from our mistakes, reconnect with each other, recognize that our similarities exceed our differences, and emerge a version of America that is better equipped to face the challenges before us. We need to return to our values; universal service provides a path to do this.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.