Lockard is an Iowa resident who regularly contributes to regional newspapers and periodicals. She is working on the second of a four-book fictional series based on Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice."
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Alice cried after falling down the rabbit hole in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”
In nearly every arena of our lives we might observe the same, from our changing climate and increasingly high-stakes global conflicts, to space travel, energy conservation and the accelerating use of artificial intelligence. And, of course, in our volatile politics. Things are indeed getting curiouser.
Each of our branches of government frequently inhabits an improbable “wonderland.” In the executive branch’s presidential race, we heard: “Christians, get out and vote, just this time. You won’t have to do it anymore. Four more years, you know what, it will be fixed, it will be fine, you won’t have to vote anymore, my beautiful Christians.”
What?!
Like the White Rabbit in Alice’s Wonderland, is the Republican candidate scurrying off to his terribly important date? Win, or an insurrection? Has someone stolen the Red Queen’s tarts, or the previous election? No, it’s Wonderland.
In Wonderland’s Caucus Race, “They began running when they liked, and left when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over.” Sounds much like the Democratic Party’s election process, which we thought happened during the primaries. Apparently not.
And participants in the Queen’s croquet game have nothing on our Congress. “They all played at once, without waiting for turns, quarreling all the while” is a lot like our legislative branch. Lawmakers often even use the Red Queen’s method to win the day: “sentence first, verdict afterwards!”
What about our third, unelected, judicial branch? Again, who stole the tarts? But it was ruled that no tarts were stolen; there are just different rules for those who make the rules. The Red Queen’s “off with their heads” is too harsh, but not reporting lavish gifts and vacations should have some consequences.
Wonderland’s Mock Turtle could be talking about our political campaigns and their “different branches: Ambition, Distraction, Uglification and Derision.” Ambitious politicians spouting ugly rhetorical derisions pretty much describes what we see and hear from every media outlet every day this election season.
Although we may want to hide our heads in a hole, we cannot. And we cannot escape, tumbling down a rabbit hole as Alice did. What then?
Attend the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party and imitate the Dormouse, falling asleep with our heads in our teacups? No time for that. Or perhaps the Caterpillar had the right idea? Take all the pundits, roll them together and smoke them to escape reality. For many reasons, it is a bad idea.
“I wish I hadn’t cried so much,” Alice said, swimming in a pool of her own tears. She is right. There is far too much at stake for useless tears.
The best advice: Do not drink any potions marked “Drink Me,” as the concoction makes us too big or too small. We cannot afford to get too big to listen to others’ viewpoints, or become small enough to drown in our own pool of despair. Be skeptical, but hopeful.
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice tells the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, you can’t help that,” he replies. “We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad. You must be or you wouldn’t have come here.”
Probably true. And here we are. But we have always been here, always brooked controversy and disagreement, arguing and posturing. This adventure is nothing new for us.
Carroll wrote “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” in Oxford, England, in 1865. The same year, our country was coming to the end of a devastating Civil War and our 16th, and arguably greatest president, was assassinated. Yet, here we are today, holding an election for our 47th.
When Alice’s sister hears her tales from Wonderland, she reminds Alice it was all a dream.
So, too, is democracy a dream. One which for 248 years has withstood all kinds of inanity, difficulties, wars, etc., yet continues to exist on the solid ground of the real world.
The dream lives on. Crafted into reality by the foresight of our founders, instilled with checks and balances, a living, changing entity of individual states, united. Stronger for our diversity, more stable with our open venues for discussion and argument, and, despite our differences and strife, still thriving, Wonderland in its wonder.
And still the greatest country the world has ever seen.
image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.