The redrawing of legislative district boundaries. A 1967 federal law requires House members be elected from single-member districts that (within each state) have nearly identical populations. House maps must be redrawn after reapportionment but before the first congressional election of each decade, based on population changes in each state revealed by the census.
A demonstrator holds a sign in front of the Federal Courthouse in Detroit, Michigan.
When American forces carried out airstrikes against suspected Islamic State militants in northwest Nigeria on Christmas Day 2025, the operation offered a glimpse of renewed security cooperation between Washington and Abuja. But for Nigerians living in communities threatened by terrorism, kidnapping and armed attacks, a more pressing question remained: Would the strikes make their lives any safer?
That question deserves attention in Washington. The United States has spent decades helping Nigeria combat terrorism through military equipment, intelligence sharing and training. Yet armed violence continues to disrupt everyday life across northern Nigeria, raising doubts about how the success of American counterterrorism assistance should be measured.
The December operation followed a diplomatic confrontation after President Donald Trump accused Nigeria of failing to protect Christians and threatened military intervention. Nigeria subsequently welcomed American assistance, leading to coordinated strikes against suspected militants in Sokoto State.
Military strikes can disrupt terrorist operations, destroy equipment and eliminate commanders. But they cannot, by themselves, guarantee the safety of communities or restore confidence in government institutions.
The United States and Nigeria have maintained security cooperation for more than five decades. According to a 2024 State Department fact sheet, Washington had $590 million in active government-to-government military sales cases with Nigeria. Major transactions included a $497 million sale of 12 A-29 Super Tucano aircraft and a $997 million sale of 12 AH-1Z attack helicopters.
Between fiscal years 2019 and 2023, the United States also provided more than $8 million in counterterrorism training, equipment and advisory support, alongside approximately $5 million for international military education and training. These figures cover different programs and stages of assistance, rather than a single amount already spent.
The partnership extends beyond weapons. It includes military professionalization, intelligence cooperation, border security and efforts to improve accountability within Nigeria's security institutions.
These investments have strengthened areas of Nigeria's military capacity but the continued vulnerability of civilians raises a larger question: What should count as success?
In northeastern Nigeria, Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) have sustained an insurgency that has devastated communities around the Lake Chad Basin. In the northwest, armed bandit networks have expanded kidnapping for ransom, cattle rustling and attacks on rural settlements. Although some groups operate in overlapping areas, their motivations and organizational structures differ.
That distinction matters treating every armed group as a terrorist organization risks overlooking the criminal economies, local grievances and failures of law enforcement that sustain different forms of violence.
The Armed Conflict Location & Event Data project (ACLED) reported more than 400 kidnapping incidents across northwest Nigeria in 2026 by the time of its analysis. In June, at least 39 civilians were abducted in Maradun, Zamfara State, after reportedly traveling to negotiate improved relations with an armed group.
A separate ACLED assessment found that armed bandits accounted for more than 80 percent of recorded mass abductions since the beginning of 2025.
These figures do not establish that American counterterrorism operations have failed. They demonstrate that Nigeria's civilian-security crisis extends well beyond the militant organizations targeted by airstrikes.
Having reported on terrorism and violent conflict in northern Nigeria, I have seen how insecurity affects communities beyond the immediate violence. Farmers struggle to access their fields, families live with uncertainty, and residents face restrictions on movement that interfere with ordinary economic and social life.
For people living under these conditions, security is measured less by the number of militants killed than by whether they can travel safely, earn a living and send their children to school.
This is where Washington should reconsider its approach.
The United States and Nigeria have already recognized the importance of broader security reforms. During the 2024 U.S.–Nigeria Binational Commission, both governments committed to deepening military and law enforcement cooperation while protecting civilians, respecting human rights and strengthening democratic institutions.
They proposed a standing security working group and closer cooperation on border and aviation security, terrorist financing, criminal investigations and explosives detection. They also discussed specialized police units to respond to kidnappings, improved police complaint mechanisms, crime mapping, police reform and stronger criminal justice institutions.
Their commitments extended to civilian harm prevention, community peacebuilding, farmer–herder conflict resolution and protection of freedom of expression, peaceful assembly and religious liberty.
These agreements offer a starting point for measuring whether cooperation is improving everyday security. Washington should press for transparent assessments of civilian casualties, kidnapping trends, accountability for abuses and the ability of displaced communities to return safely.
It should also support Nigerian institutions responsible for investigating and prosecuting violent crimes, rather than relying predominantly on military responses.
Religious freedom must remain part of this policy. But Nigeria's security crisis cannot be understood exclusively through attacks against Christians. Muslims have also suffered extensively from terrorism and banditry. A policy focused on protecting all civilians would better address the country's complex security realities.
The stakes extend beyond Nigeria. As Africa's most populous country and an influential regional democracy, Nigeria plays an important role in West African stability and international cooperation. Persistent insecurity weakens public confidence in elected leaders, disrupts civic participation and creates opportunities for armed groups to exercise influence where state institutions are absent.
For the United States, supporting Nigeria therefore involves more than defeating terrorist organizations. It means helping a democratic partner build institutions that citizens can trust.
A stronger bilateral relationship should connect security assistance with civilian protection, public accountability and sustained diplomatic engagement. Such cooperation would demonstrate that American foreign policy can support democratic governance while confronting violent extremism.
Ultimately, the success of U.S.-Nigeria counterterrorism cooperation should be judged by whether Nigerians can live without fear, participate freely in civic life and trust the government institutions responsible for their safety. Until those outcomes become central measures of progress, even successful airstrikes will remain an incomplete answer to Nigeria's security crisis.
Idris Mohammed is a Ph.D. student at the University of Alabama concentrating in Journalism & Creative Media and a fall Fulcrum Fellow.
Residents vote at polling station in St. Timothy's Episcopal Church on November 03, 2026 in West Des Moines, Iowa.
The political earthquake of the 2026 midterm elections has left Washington, DC, in a state of whiplash, delivering a sharp rebuke to the Trump administration and fracturing the expansive coalition that carried him to the White House just two years ago. For Donald Trump, his inner circle, and his most ardent followers, the message from the American electorate is unmistakable: the governing chaos, policy overreaches, and exhausting political theater of the last two years will not fly for the next two
Instead of showing humility following a historic defeat, the president’s immediate elevation of immigration hardliner Stephen Miller to White House Chief of Staff signals a defiant doubling down rather than a constructive course correction. For millions of voters—including the critical Latino demographics alienated by the administration's aggressive deportation campaigns—Miller’s promotion feels like a structural mistake that will only deepen the administration's isolation. If MAGA is to survive past Trump’s tenure, the movement must undergo a radical transformation, moving away from unilateral aggression and toward sustainable governance. As former conservative acolyte Rod Dreher soberly observed following the wreckage of the midterms, “MAGA couldn't deliver on good government. And if you can't deliver on good government, it doesn't matter how charismatic the leader is. It's not going to work.”
At the same time, Democrats must resist the tempting delusion that these midterm victories signal the definitive end of populism. It would be a catastrophic mistake to misread a rejection of administrative chaos as a sweeping endorsement of progressive ideology. Let us be clear: half of the country voted for Trump in 2024 largely because of the crippling economic pressures and inflation felt at the end of the Biden administration. Just as in 2016, millions of everyday Americans chose Trump not out of malice, but because they genuinely believe parts of the progressive agenda have drifted too far into radicalism, leaving traditional values and economic anxieties behind. Warning his party against taking the wrong lessons from their victory, Senator Cory Booker cautioned, “If we make Donald Trump the center of our focus, we will lose this moment in history. We need to deal with the American people's problems.”
Traditional Republicans, meanwhile, face an existential crisis after completely losing their institutional identity to a single leader. Unconditional capitulation to Trumpism has left the party hollowed out, punished at the ballot box by voters craving stability and principled leadership. For the GOP, the time for blind deference is over if they wish to remain a viable national force. As a post-election analysis from RealClearPolicy bluntly summarized, “It's time to look past Donald Trump... the GOP must begin rebuilding a governing coalition around the principles of liberty, constitutional government, economic opportunity, family, and national purpose – or, Republicans will become a feeble, permanent opposition.”
We have arrived at a critical fork in the road for all three political factions. MAGA must choose between evolution or extinction. Democrats must choose between pragmatic moderation or alienating the very swing voters who just handed them a lifeline. And traditional Republicans must decide whether they will reclaim their principles or continue to exist as a hollowed-out vessel.
The path to the White House in 2028 will not be won by the faction that executes the most ruthless political strategy, but by the leaders who listen to the true will of The People.
Americans are fatigued by a useless, unending political tug-of-war designed solely to retain institutional power. The next chapter of American politics belongs to those who stop fighting for total ideological dominance and instead roll up their sleeves to solve our collective societal ills.
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of The Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network.
A recent CNN interview with Attorney General Todd Blanche ignited debate about the role of the Department of Justice after he said, "If you work in this administration, you have a lawyer. It's me, and we will defend you." He also argued that every attorney general represents members of an administration and suggested that the Constitution protects executive branch officials.
Here are the facts, the relevant constitutional provisions, and the key areas of nuance.
The U.S. Constitution does not mention the attorney general, define the office's duties, or demand the attorney general to defend administration officials. Congress created the position in the Judiciary Act of 1789, and it later became the head of the Department of Justice.
Bottom line: The attorney general's responsibilities come primarily from federal statutes enacted by Congress, not from explicit constitutional text.
Article II, Section 3 of the Constitution requires that the president "take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed." This is known as the Take Care Clause.
In practice, the Department of Justice and the attorney general help presidents carry out this constitutional responsibility.
Bottom line: The Constitution assigns law-execution duties to the president and executive branch, but it does not specifically state that the attorney general's constitutional duty is to defend administration officials.
Historically, the Department of Justice has frequently represented federal agencies and executive branch officials sued or called upon to defend official actions. Blanche's statement that attorneys general traditionally represent administration officials reflects a longstanding governmental practice.
However, that practice rests largely on statutes, regulations, and legal precedent rather than a constitutional provision specifically directing the attorney general to do so.
Bottom line: DOJ lawyers generally defend executive branch officials acting in their official capacities, but the Constitution does not expressly mandate that practice.
During the CNN interview, Dana Bash noted that congressional oversight constitutes a constitutional function. Courts and legal scholars have long recognized Congress's authority to conduct investigations and oversight as part of its legislative responsibilities.
Blanche responded that he welcomes legitimate oversight yet argued that threats of impeachment or investigations without factual basis go beyond proper oversight.
Blanche also declined to rule out potential investigations of members of Congress under certain circumstances. When asked whether Democratic lawmakers could face investigation based on statements they had made, he responded, "It depends on what's said. So yes ... there could be." Blanche added that while Americans enjoy free speech protections, "when the threats become so vile and so dangerous ... you have to draw the line." When Bash later referenced suggestions that some lawmakers could be imprisoned, Blanche again declined to categorically reject the possibility, saying, "Well, it depends on what the crime is and what they've done."
Bottom line: Congress has well-established oversight authority, but disagreements often arise over where oversight ends, and partisan investigation begins. Blanche's comments also highlighted a separate constitutional debate over when, if ever, elected officials' political rhetoric could become the subject of criminal investigation.
Blanche stated that "the Constitution absolutely protects members of the executive.
That statement is partially correct, but it requires context.
The Constitution establishes a separation of powers among the legislative, executive, and judicial branches. Courts have recognized various protections for the executive branch, including certain executive privileges and immunities under specific circumstances. At the same time, Congress can oversee executive branch officials, and courts can review their actions, and, in some cases, Congress can initiate impeachment proceedings.
Bottom line: The Constitution protects the executive branch's institutional interests, but those protections exist alongside Congress's oversight powers and the judiciary's authority to interpret the law.
A common misconception is that the attorney general serves as a president's or administration official's personal lawyer.
The attorney general's ultimate responsibility is to represent the United States' interests and enforce federal law. While that commonly involves defending administration actions, the Department of Justice has declined to defend a policy, law, or official action when it concluded the position was unlawful or unconstitutional. [usconstitution.net]
Bottom line: The attorney general represents the government, not the personal interests of government officials.
The most accurate interpretation of Blanche's remarks is that the Constitution does not explicitly make it his job to defend administration officials. Rather, the Constitution places law-execution responsibilities within the executive branch, while federal statutes and longstanding practice assign the attorney general a central role in representing the executive branch and defending official government actions. [usconstitution.net], [law.cornell.edu], [whitehouse.gov]
In short, the Constitution does not say, "The attorney general shall defend members of the administration." Instead, it establishes an executive branch charged with faithfully executing the laws, a Congress empowered to conduct oversight, and a system of checks and balances that ensures continuing tension between those two responsibilities. [law.cornell.edu], [law.cornell.edu], [yahoo.com]
David Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
Americans die younger than people in most wealthy nations. A new study says the cure is political will, and polarization may be what’s blocking it.
Americans die younger than people in nearly every other wealthy democracy.
A study published in September by Steven Woolf of Virginia Commonwealth University traces America's mortality crisis. In 1980, only 13 countries with populations over one million had longer life expectancy than the United States. By 2023, 37 did. People in 60 countries now have a better chance of surviving to age 40.
Young adults have suffered the greatest losses. Between 2010 and 2021, mortality among Americans aged 25 to 44 rose 71.2 percent. Drug overdoses drove much of that increase. Deaths from hypertension, metabolic disorders and alcoholic liver disease also rose. For children and teenagers, car crashes, homicide and suicide added to the toll. In 2023, 4,455 Americans aged 1 to 19 died from firearm injuries, according to a research letter published this year in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Woolf identifies familiar causes: opioids, firearms, obesity, chronic illness and an inadequate health care system. He also identifies the obstacle to fixing them. It is not a lack of solutions but a lack of political will.
He is right. But why?
Americans do not want to die young. Red America does not want its children to overdose. Blue America does not want its neighbors to go without care. The will is missing because our political system turns questions of life and death into battles in America's ongoing cold civil war.
Start with COVID-19. Yale researchers compared voter-registration and death records in Ohio and Florida. Before vaccines became widely available, registered Republicans and Democrats had similar excess-death rates. After vaccines became widely available, deaths among Republican voters were 25.8 percent higher than expected, compared with 18.1 percent among Democrats. The gap was greatest in counties with low vaccination rates.
Think about what happened. President Trump's Operation Warp Speed accelerated the development and production of COVID-19 vaccines. The first shots were administered before he left office. President Biden then expanded the rollout, delivering 200 million shots in his first 100 days. This was a medical achievement that crossed administrations. It should have crossed party lines.
Instead, vaccination became a test of which side a person trusted. Public-health guidance changed as scientists learned more about the virus, but those changes fell on a country already primed to distrust the other side. In February 2022, Pew found that roughly three-quarters of Republicans said changing recommendations had made them less confident in health officials. Researchers also found that showing Americans a video of Trump endorsing vaccination increased the number of shots administered. The messenger mattered.
This was not simply a failure of people who refused vaccination. It was a failure of a political system that made public-health officials and their recommendations part of the struggle for national power. Medical advice had become another message from the other side.
And the damage extended beyond COVID. In a study published this May in Nature Human Behaviour, Elizabeth Elder and Neil O'Brian found that conservatives experienced worsening health during the 2010s and higher mortality in the early 2020s. In a separate survey, they found that Republicans and Trump voters were less willing to seek medical care, follow doctors' advice and trust medications, even for conditions unrelated to COVID.
That is how the cold civil war reaches into the examination room. Distrust does not stop at an election or a government agency. It follows people to their doctors and affects decisions about their own health. When one national government is the prize in a permanent cold civil war, everything it touches becomes contested ground. Even medicine.
Health coverage follows the same pattern.
The Affordable Care Act offered states federal funding to expand Medicaid to low-income adults. Economists Sarah Miller, Norman Johnson and Laura Wherry found that expansion reduced annual mortality by 9.4 percent among the low-income adults aged 55 to 64 most likely to gain coverage. They estimated that 15,600 deaths in non-expansion states from 2014 through 2017 would have been prevented had those states expanded coverage.
Ten states still have not adopted the expansion. Is that because voters in Red America reject coverage for the working poor? Look at what happened when voters decided for themselves. Idaho, Utah, Nebraska, Missouri, Oklahoma and South Dakota all approved Medicaid expansion at the ballot box, despite resistance from Republican leaders.
When the question was health coverage, voters said yes. When the question was Obamacare, partisan leaders said no. The difference was not simply policy. It was tribe.
Woolf documents how health outcomes have diverged as states have divided along partisan lines, especially since 2010. Congress enacted the Affordable Care Act, Republicans tried to repeal it, and the 2025 federal budget law imposed new Medicaid eligibility requirements, with major provisions scheduled for 2027. Hospitals, insurers and patients have spent years planning around a system that national politics keeps changing.
No one builds a durable health system on ground that shifts with every election. Escaping this cycle requires changing the political structure that sustains it.
Elsewhere I have proposed a reorganization of the United States into an American Union: two semi-autonomous democratic republics, one predominantly Red and one predominantly Blue, joined by a common defense, common currency, integrated markets and freedom of movement. Each would have its own modern constitution, with enforceable rights for its political minorities.
The goal is not to create two ideologically pure republics. It is to move the struggle over domestic policy out of a single national government that both sides are determined to control. Both republics would contain conservatives, liberals, independents and people who reject those labels. While neither would be ideologically uniform, each would be a more cohesive political community, with greater agreement about the basic role of government. Disagreements would continue, without every one of them becoming a fight for control of the entire country.
That would change the health care debate. A conservative in Red America would no longer see coverage for the working poor as a concession to Blue America. A progressive in Blue America would no longer see every market-based reform as a Red America scheme to strip away care. Each republic would confront the same question: how to keep its own people alive and well.
Other countries show how many answers that question has. Switzerland uses mandatory private insurance. Britain has a national health service. Canada provides public insurance through its provinces. Singapore combines mandatory health savings with basic insurance for citizens and permanent residents. All four have longer life expectancies than the United States. Their systems are different, but all provide a foundation of broad health coverage.
A Red republic would be free to build a market-driven system. A Blue republic would be free to build a more public one. Each would be accountable for the results. Each could learn from the other, adopt what works and discard what fails. Neither would need to defend a bad policy simply because the other republic opposes it.
Public health also depends on trust. People follow medical advice, get screened and vaccinate their children when they trust the institutions asking them to do so. In 1997, Ichiro Kawachi and his colleagues found that states with lower levels of social trust had higher mortality rates. A study of 177 countries published in The Lancet found that higher trust in government and other people was associated with more COVID-19 vaccination and fewer infections.
America is running out of that trust. Tell people for long enough that the other side threatens everything they value, and they stop trusting its leaders. They start doubting its doctors and scientists. Eventually, they lose confidence in institutions they need themselves.
An American Union would change the stakes. Two more cohesive political communities, each governing itself, would give Red and Blue Americans less reason to fear one another and more reason to make their own institutions work. They could disagree about health policy without treating every disagreement as a fight for national survival.
Woolf is right that we know many of the solutions. Other countries put them to work every day. What we lack is a political structure that lets us do the same. An American Union would let each republic stop asking how to defeat the other side and start asking how to keep its people alive.
Jordan Karp is a lawyer and writer based in New York with a keen interest in American political culture, institutional reform, and civic life.
