The place of loyalty in this country’s political system has been at the forefront of political conversations since the November election returned Donald Trump to the Oval Office. Loyalty has long been seen as what the president values most in his relationship with others.
In his 2024 presidential campaign Trump did not try to hide any of that. “We love loyalty in life,” he said. “Don’t you think? Loyalty?”
And recall what he said early in his first term to then-FBI Director James Comey, “I need loyalty; I expect loyalty.” And that was no one-off; years earlier, President Trump wrote, “I value loyalty above everything else—more than brains, more than drive and more than energy.”
Trump praised the notorious lawyer Roy Cohn, who used ruthless legal tactics against his perceived enemies, calling him “a truly loyal guy. … Just compare that with all the hundreds of ‘respectable’ guys who make careers out of boasting about their uncompromising integrity but have absolutely no loyalty.”
The juxtaposition of loyalty and integrity is telling.
The kind of loyalty to which Trump refers is “commitment to a cause or a person, irrespective of the situation and change that time brings… Loyalty transcends promises and performances. It is a commitment beyond consequences - which may be favorable or unfavorable.” The loyalty that Trump seeks is what philosophers call “particularistic.” It is, focused on persons or groups, not on principles.
Seven years ago, Michael Kruse wrote: “All leaders want loyalty. All politicians. All presidents. But in the 241-year history of the United States of America, there’s never been a commander in chief who has thought about loyalty and attempted to use it and enforce it quite like Trump.”
Kruse’s analysis seems even more apt today.
News reports suggest that “Job-seekers hoping to join the Trump administration are facing intense loyalty tests, including questions on who they voted for and when their moment of “MAGA revelation” occurred.” And the acting attorney general, Emil Bove, is implementing the president’s loyalty agenda even in traditionally independent places.
He has begun screening Justice Department officials and FBI agents to determine if they can “faithfully implement the agenda that the American people elected President Trump to execute.”
Properly understood, loyalty is neither a primary personal nor political virtue. And democratic loyalty requires attachment to the principles and procedures that are necessary to a government of, for and by the people. Democratic loyalty is directed at our fellow citizens and manifests itself as a concern for the rights and well-being of others.
Democratic loyalty is, in that sense, impersonal. Indeed, in a democratic political system, misplaced loyalty can be quite a dangerous thing. It requires “us not merely to suspend our own judgment about its object but even to set aside good judgment…”
Where loyalty attaches to persons, especially to political leaders, it goes “hand in hand with royalty. Royalty does not change - it is passed down from generation to generation, whereas democracy needs an impartial decision and good judgment.”
Writing in 1974, in the midst of the Watergate scandal, New York Times columnist William Safire observed, “Men are loyal to political leaders for different reasons: Some… share a belief in a cause or hatred of a perceived danger, and they want a ticket to the center of the action. Others…care little for ideology or favor, rooting their loyalty in a need to be needed and a belief ‘in others’ estimates of the uniqueness of their qualifications.”
And President Nixon was, like Trump, obsessed with loyalty. Like Trump. He started his second term by launching a loyalty campaign.
The historian and author Michael Koncewicz recalls that, “during a meeting with his Chief of Staff H.R. Haldeman and Special Assistant Fred Malek, two months after his landslide victory over George McGovern,” Nixon announced that during his remianing time in office, “There must be absolute loyalty.”
“The White House’s repeated clashes with executive branch officials,” Koncewicz writes, “convinced Nixon that he needed to wrangle the federal bureaucracy during his second term. At one point, he even asked for the resignation of every cabinet member, a mostly symbolic gesture that was meant to send a message across the administration. Nixon demanded that the bureaucracy would be at his disposal, particularly when it came to using the levers of government against his enemies.“
Seventy years later what Nixon said has a very familiar ring to it.
Boston Globe columnist Jeff Jacoby notes that “Nixon’s obsession with loyalty… “blossomed into full-blown, paranoid us-versus-themism’ — so much so that when a small dip in unemployment didn’t get much media attention, he became convinced that disloyal staffers in the Bureau of Labor Statistics were conspiring against him.”
Lyndon Baines Johnson, who became president after the assassination of John F. Kennedy and was Nixon’s predecessor, was also “obsessed with loyalty.” Jeff Shesol reports that he “brooded about it, demanded it, doubted it, and never seemed to find enough of it.”
Shesol says that LBJ once said about someone seeking a job in his administration, “I don’t want loyalty. I want loyalty. I want him to kiss my ass in Macy’s window at high noon and tell me it smells like roses. I want his pecker in my pocket.”
And, of course, at the height of the post-World War II Red Scare, Harry Truman issued an executive order mandating a “loyalty investigation of every person entering the civilian employment of any department or agency of the executive branch of the Federal Government.” The loyalty that Truman demanded was not loyalty to him.
Instead, Truman demanded “complete and unswerving loyalty to the United States.”
Truman feared the Program could become a “witch hunt,” but he defended it as necessary to preserve American security during a time of great tension.
President Trump seems less concerned than Truman was that loyalty tests to him or the country will become witch hunts. He is determined to rid the federal government of those deemed to be disloyal, no matter what the costs in terms of the government’s ability to function effectively in serving the American people.
In the administration he is setting up, loyalty more than brains will be the coin of the realm. As Shesol puts it, “On the continuum between with-the-program loyalty and pecker-in-my-pocket loyalty, Trump clearly wants the latter.”
But maybe loyalty is not the right word.
John Bolton, national security advisor to the president during his first term, argues that “fealty” is a better one. Bolton suggests that Trump wants his appointees “to display fealty, a medieval concept implying not mere loyalty but submission.” What Trump demands, Bolton writes, “is not, in fact, loyalty; it is fealty, servility, sycophancy.“
He warns that “the kind of personalist link that Mr. Trump expects will elide constitutional obligations.” Recall Bove’s emphasis on loyalty to the president, not the Constitution.
Over two hundred years ago, Alexander Hamilton worried about the corrupting influence of personal loyalty among those chosen to serve the president. He hoped that the requirement that the president’s appointments be subject to Senatorial confirmation would “be an excellent check upon a spirit of favoritism in the President, and would tend greatly to prevent the appointment of unfit characters…(who would be) in some way or other personally allied to him, or of possessing the necessary insignificance and pliancy to render them the obsequious instruments of his pleasure.”
I can’t imagine that Hamilton is resting easily today.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.