Molineaux is co-publisher of The Fulcrum and president/CEO of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
Today, we celebrate Independence Day. Historically, this is the day we credit for our freedom. The facts lay out a march toward freedom that is slower and as-of-yet, unfinished.
The Declaration of Independence, apart from the aspirational opening paragraph, is a list of grievances against the British King and reasoning why the colonies were self-determining their future as free (white, landed) men. The Declaration had been approved by the Continental Congress on July 2; and formally adopted on the 4th of July in 1776, providing the date that would not become a federal holiday until 1941.
Historically, freedom was not granted to all men until June 19, 1865, “Juneteenth,” when the last enslaved people in Galveston, Texas were notified of their freedom via the Emancipation Proclamation that had been in effect since January 1, 1863. A new “ Civic Season ” has been introduced these last few years to mark the three weeks between Juneteenth and Independence Day.
Women’s freedom and independence is more complicated and murky. During colonial times, women were not allowed to own property, earn wages or vote. Laws differed from state to state and it was only 50 years ago when women could establish their own credit without a man’s permission. And of course, as a nation, we failed to pass the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) which seems so simple if women are to live fully free and independent. Simply stated, the ERA states, “equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.” The Supreme Court last year piled onto the complications and murky definition of women’s freedom with their Dobbs decision; women’s control over their own bodies is not absolute. When a woman becomes pregnant, her freedom is curtailed. Body sovereignty is not her right, depending on where she lives.
And yet, we gather each year with our friends and family members to remember the radical (and flawed) men who pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor so we may be (more) free. We must never forget that our rights are only as valid as our ability to act upon or with our freedom.
During the close of Civic Season today, pledge yourself to be the citizen our nation needs. Vote when you can. Engage consistently with your elected officials. Protest when you must. With freedom comes the responsibility to protect our independence and our freedom for our descendants. Without diligence, we will fall back under the rule of an autocrat.




















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.