To Save The Republic

Can federalism save the republic? As it stands, America consists of one political party and the fantasies of a mad king whose devotees are ever so eager to carry out his — as well as their own — wills. Our sacred institutions now lie in ruin, trammeled by political polarization as Republican inaction reduces the hallowed halls of Congress to performance and spectacle. Democrats, whose primary concern should lie in taking back both chambers of Congress in the 2026 midterm elections, stand powerless before a Republican-controlled House and Senate. As the willing servants of Donald Trump, Republicans appear more than happy to sit idly by as the American republic decays to ruin and democracy wanes in the nation’s capital. Thus, our present predicament raises the question: “Who — and/or what — will save America?” A Democratic party in search of its “identity,” a few brave Republicans willing to oppose Trump, or the “youth” whose idealism, guided by pragmatic solutions, transforms the present into what it can be? Perhaps none, perhaps all three. Though, until “we,” the “youth,”  make that fated transition from childhood to adulthood, and crises present themselves in which we must act, I propose federalism — in spirit, action, and an ideal — as a possible answer, if not as a sign of hope to save and rebuild the republic.

By federalism, I merely mean the foundational principle of federated power-sharing between states and the federal government — perhaps even between persons and people — established at the outset of the republic’s founding. Unlike our democratic counterparts in Europe who prefer parliamentary over electoral democracy and the “nation state” over the “democratic republic,” America exists as a conglomerate of independent states, determined neither by blood nor creed — and whose unity lies in their shared commitment to both the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence. Nevertheless, our modern political structure, corrupted by progressive identity politics and attempting half-heartedly to appeal to the “American spirit,” if it knows of such a thing, now bastardizes this sacred principle.

An outgrowth of our zeitgeist, identity politics usurps federalist authority, supplanting identity-based power structures in its place. Rather than regarding me as “I,” identity politics urges that I should solely concern myself with my race, the “Black race,” tying my successes and failures to a group of people, many of whom I do not know nor care to know. Federalism — which acknowledges inherent differences between states — nonetheless advocates an unequal yet paradoxically equitable understanding of the state. Identity politics, however, eviscerates any sense of “equity,” favoring a near-dystopian conformity maintained by an unwavering commitment to uniformity, no matter the cost. Is it not ludicrous that I would tie my future, fate, and political leanings to an imagined and artificially created community — the “Black race?” A community whose existence lies in humanity’s universal denial. A community whose history lies in perpetual struggle against forces who now appear invisible in the absence of explicitly discriminatory laws? Should we find ourselves surprised that nationalism — varying in form and accompanied by new racial, gender, sexual, and ethnic identity categories — incites and invites race-neutral or outright race-hating politics? Is it at all a surprise that white Americans may find themselves in competition neither against one another nor opposing states but rather against other races? Perhaps not, that is, if a system of laws were in place that specifically designated particular groups in constant tension against each other. Yet, in the absence of such explicit laws, should I, should we, not return to or embrace an “African-American” identity? Our “American” identity. Should you, should we, not return to this nation’s founding, declaring today what truths we hold to be self-evident? The state exists as a set of laws and commitments. “Race” and “races” have no other commitment than to themselves — while the former guarantees law and order, the latter makes inter and intra-state violence all the more possible, as politics structured by race necessitate racial animus, weakening state and geographical power in favor of broad, sweeping racial agendas. In its place, however, federalism, not merely governmental, but in fact, cultural — understanding our “identities” as multifaceted and hierarchal — offers a countermeasure to this worry.

Thus, what was once a right becomes an obligation established at and by our birth. In the American spirit, we must understand ourselves not just as representatives of artificially constructed or seemingly transitory “identities,” but as Chicagoans, Illinoisans — representatives of our respective states whose political positions represent our respective worlds, whose competing interests serve as a bastion against the populist sentiment that now seeks to upend a nation — my nation, our nation, whose flag once stood for more than itself — whose citizens lie not in a person or a people, but rather an “idea.” Is this not the American spirit upon which the nation and state endure her endless trials and tribulations? Is it not compromise, this nation's greatest gift and sin, that is responsible for shackling and rendering enslaved African Americans to seemingly perpetual servitude — and that is the idea upon which this nation could persist? Are we not brought both pride and shame by her hypocrisies — her paradoxes inherent in her founding principle, tolerance?

We need not forget the past, but it’s all the more important that we remember not just what happened but why it happened. The republic urges that we understand ourselves as individuals, concerning ourselves with who, and not what, we are. Identity politics implores that we understand ourselves as particular identity categories, concerning itself with what, and not who, we are. Now, the choice is yours. Who, and what, will you choose to be? For the sake of the republic, I hope you choose the former.