On January 8, 2026, one day after the tragic killing of Renee Good in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Kristi Noem, Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, held a press conference in New York highlighting what she portrayed as the dangerous conditions under which ICE agents are currently working. Referring to the incident in Minneapolis, she said Good died while engaged in “an act of domestic terrorism.”
She compared what Good allegedly tried to do to an ICE agent to what happened last July when an off-duty Customs and Border Protection Officer was shot on the street in Fort Washington Park, New York. Mincing no words, Norm called the alleged perpetrators “scumbags” who “were affiliated with the transnational criminal organization, the notorious Trinitarios gang.”
Norm said that following the shooting, DHS “began to target every single last person who is affiliated with them.” All that was pretty standard fare for our Homeland Security Secretary.
What was not standard fare was that she delivered remarks while standing behind a podium bearing the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours.” Above that phrase was the Department of Homeland Security’s logo
“One of Ours, All of Yours” is not the kind of promise law enforcement agencies typically make. Indeed, its website proclaims that ICE will “protect America” and “preserve national security and public safety.”
Noem left that language behind and substituted a threat of collective punishment.
Constitutional democracies provide due process and determine guilt through trials conducted according to strict procedures. Whatever our political differences, Americans should treasure and defend that commitment and lobby Congress to ensure that ICE adheres to it.
In contrast, collective punishment was a tactic used by the Nazi’s during World War II. As one commentator notes, the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours” evokes “the Lidice Massacre in June 1942, where Nazis retaliated for…(the) assassination (of a high-ranking figure in the German SS) by wiping out the Czech village.”
“SS forces,” they continue, “shot nearly all men over 14, sent women to Ravensbrück camp, and scattered children…. They then razed the site, killing about 340 in a symbol of terror tactics.”
Let’s be clear, collective punishment is never justified, not even to deter violence directed at an individual. It corrodes democratic life and is explicitly prohibited by international humanitarian law.
For example, Article 33 of the Geneva Convention Relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War says that “No protected person may be punished for an offence he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.”
As Professor Shane Darcy observes, in a just society, “an individual may be punished for acts or omissions only where there is personal wrongdoing on that person’s part; that is to say, one person cannot generally be punished for the acts of another.” But Noem seems to be less interested in doing justice than in using ICE to instill fear.
America should be better than that.
“(L)egions of masked immigration officers operating in near-total anonymity on the orders of the president,” Pro Publica’s J. David McSwane and Hannah Allam argue, “cross(es)… a line that had long set the United States apart from the world’s most repressive regimes. ICE…has become an unfettered and unaccountable national police force.”
And what do we make of Noem’s use of the phrase “One of Ours, All of Yours”? It is not the first time that members of the Trump Administration have invoked or alluded to things that would once have been taboo in American politics.
But no more.
“Several high-profile political leaders have,” Professors David Collinson and Keith Grint observe, “in recent months been seen apparently dabbling in Nazi allusions. In many cases, dog whistle messages send oblique signals to supporters. These are pitched at a frequency that most listeners can’t hear but are meaningful to those seeking confirmation of their own views.”
Recall Elon Musk’s straight-arm salute during rallies to celebrate the inauguration of President Trump for a second term. Steve Bannon did the same thing during the annual conference of the Conservative Political Action Committee.
And the president himself has used language associated with the Nazi regime when he calls political opponents “vermin” and accuses immigrants of “poisoning the blood of our country”.
Let me be clear, I do not mean to suggest that Noem, Musk, Bannon, or President Trump are Nazi sympathizers. What seems clear, however, is that they are offering a vision of a society inexorably divided between insiders and outsiders and friends and enemies.
The vision of ICE they offer is as an enforcer of those boundaries, operating with impunity.
It is one thing for a leader to communicate to those who work under her that she will have their backs. It is quite another thing to talk in ways that instill terror in the population that ICE serves.
The United States has had a serious problem of illegal immigration, and we need to address the consequences of that problem. But we don’t need to do so by pitting Americans and residents of this country against each other or encouraging ICE agents to regard migrants as a less-than-human threat.
We need to address our problems in ways appropriate to a constitutional democracy.
The deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti should remind us that no one can be safe unless we do so. Kristi Noem’s embrace of collective punishment takes us in a different direction.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.




















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.