THE CRISIS

FEBRUARY 11, 2026 – I have yet to find any survey of history with a chapter entitled, “From [When] to [When] Nothing Much Happened.” Yet even by historical standards, what the country is now experiencing represents a crisis of exceptional proportions. In the wheelhouse of the ship of state is a man with a rudderless mind and no moral compass. He’s surrounded by crew members of demonstrated cruelty, corruption and sycophancy; by enablers, surrogates, apologists and enthusiasts. Together, they have produced the crisis in which we now find ourselves—a crisis involving destruction of the social compact and devaluation of the rule of law. We are at a crossroads. Can we and will we find our bearings in time to avoid runaway disruption?

What exactly is this immediate crisis, which subsumes all other crises that plague society? Authoritarianism of a magnitude that conservatives of yore warned against—albeit emanating from the right, not the left end of the political spectrum. The most openly visual evidence of this authoritarian rule is ICE, but anti-democratic governance reaches far beyond the brazen lawlessness and cruelty with which ICE raids and arrests are executed. Consider, for example, the regime’s blatant disregard for court orders—100 and counting—enjoining certain ICE actions; legally specious deployment of the Department of Justice to serve the despot’s personal campaign of retribution against political enemies; unauthorized delegation to a single powerful individual, a carte-blanche license to gut government agencies and funding but without any accounting or accountability to Congress or the American public; myriad other transgressions, such as abuse of the pardon, breach of civil norms, extra-legal killing of people on the high seas and disregard for laws barring grift and corruption—to name a few. And that’s all before examination of what’s embedded in six million files labeled “Epstein,” only three million of which have been produced.

What perpetuates the crisis is significant, albeit somewhat declining, support among voters. Without this popular bulwark the regime would collapse. Despite fissures and fractures, the madness of the past year has so far failed to turn the regime’s essential base. Without Democrats assuming control of the House and at least two-thirds control of the Senate—an unlikely scenario—impeachment, the surest constitutional remedy, won’t be available to end the regime and its unending sponsorship of crises.

Yesterday, I was reminded that the authoritarian crisis won’t end easily or soon. While walking in the neighborhood, I encountered friends O and K who briefed me on their volunteer efforts to help targets of ICE bounty hunters—taking food to a Latino church; adding O and K’s names/numbers to a list of emergency delivery drivers for community members afraid to leave their homes. O then told me about a recent gathering of her card group, during which one of the members, a Republican, expressed her “shame” for being a Minnesotan in these times. O was shocked and said in response, “I feel the exact opposite. I’m proud of Minnesotans who are resisting the tactics of ICE.” Though I found encouragement in O and K’s sentiments, which are in the majority, I was troubled by the absence of unanimity across Minnesota. As I’ve expressed in prior posts, I no longer view the regime as a mere political problem, but a moral problem, as well. Why, then, in the case of a moral problem, are so many people still on the side of moral bankruptcy?

A few hours later, however, came the shocker. The setting was our monthly book club meeting. Up for discussion was Into the Bright Sunshine by Samuel G. Freedman; the story of Hubert Humphrey’s tireless work to advance racial justice in Minneapolis—and the country as a whole. (See 2/2 – 2/4/26 posts) After an exhaustive conversation, we turned to politics and soon plunged into the subject of ICE. One of our members, B, whose attitudes about the breakdown in Minneapolis policing since the death of George Floyd, were well known to the group, had been uncharacteristically quiet during the book discussion. With the mention of ICE, however, B jumped to life. Well read, well educated, quite intelligent and articulate, he expressed unequivocal support for ICE. I’ve known B for many years; we used to have lunch together every week—for years—and discussed in depth a wide range of subjects, always in a level exchange.

Suddenly, I was hearing positions that were anathema to me. Soon we were locked in an unbecoming shouting match. At one juncture, B snapped three times with rising volume, “Let me finish! . . . Let me finish! . . . LET ME FINISH!”

If I’d lit his fuse, he’d done the same to me, and I later regretted that I’d chosen to speechify instead of cross-examine him.

His springboard was the George Floyd killing and aftermath. In the first place, he strongly believed that the victim died not at the knee of Derek Chauvin but because of a drug overdose. B firmly believed that Chauvin’s conviction was a miscarriage of justice and that by extension, if prosecuted by the state, Jonathan Ross, the ICE agent who shot Reneé Good, would never receive a fair trial—and therefore, shouldn’t even be investigated.

The greater influence on B, however, was the looting and burning that followed the George Floyd killing. Much of that lawlessness encroached on B’s own neighborhood. So angered by it, B has held a grudge ever since against liberals who espoused policing reformation (or in B’s mind, the stupidest suggestion ever: defunding the police). The anti-ICE protests triggered B’s anger all over again, and he now conflated the two—George Floyd demonstrations (and destruction) and anti-ICE reactions.

B then settled into the much abused argument that “all ICE is doing is enforcing the law.” Giving lip service to the rule of law and due process, B acknowledged that “some infrastructure regarding detention and deportation still needed to be worked out.” He further argued that in any organization, a perfect system can’t be magically assembled. “It takes time and process.”

I jumped all over this, declaring that when it comes to an individual’s life and liberty, the constitution doesn’t sanction a “gradual approach” to preserving rights. The Fourth Amendment prohibition against warrantless searches and seizures, for example, doesn’t allow for the police breaking down a few doors “until they get the procedure right.” Moreover, I cited the lawlessness at the front end of ICE operations: ambushing people, slamming them to the pavement, cuffing them and hauling them away, ignoring pleas and evidence of legal residency or citizenship. “No part of the operation should’ve been launched,” I said, “until all of it was figured out and the proper resources be deployed to ensure that due process and the rule of law were followed.”

Then came B’s bottom line. During the aftermath of George Floyd’s death, B feared that his own house might be attacked and burned. This time around, he fears the same, despite the absence of any threat of such violence currently. “I don’t want my house burned down.” [Even though he has since moved to a tony district some distance away from his family’s old neighborhood, and even farther away from the neighborhoods where Reneé Good and Alex Pretti were killed, and where shrines attract visitors but with comportment closer to that of a visitation than a boisterous demonstration.]

To B’s stated concern about his house, I said, “You’re concerned about your house burning down? I’m worried about our constitution going up on flames.”

Then came his ultimate stance: “The top priority has to be order; without order you have nothing.” I shuddered when I heard this.

There the exchange ended. Neither of us had budged from our opening positions; if anything, each of us was more committed to those stances than before—if that was even possible. As discussion turned to the next book, calm was restored. When our meeting broke up amicably soon thereafter, I left deeply troubled; not because I hadn’t changed an unchangeable mind or had experienced weakness in my own arguments (I hadn’t), but because B—no intellectual slouch—has subordinated all considerations to the defense of “order” as defined and projected by sheer physical force at the arm of the police. (B took strong exception to my reference to ICE agents as “goon squads,” calling it “incendiary language.” He insisted that ICE agents are “police.” I rigorously opposed that description, given the unexplained face masks, lack of badges or personal I.D.; murky information regarding who they’re recruited, by whom and from where; their apparent ignorance and/or contempt for the constitutional rights of protesters and detainees; the brutality and cruelty of their tactics; and their lack of training (affirmed by a sheriff’s deputy I’d spoken with at the Whipple Building two weeks ago)).

I wondered how widespread B’s strident position is across the country. And how can the view of “order, first; constitution, second” be reconciled with democratic principles and the Bill of Rights (plus the 14^th Amendment)? Where is this crisis headed? Will the easing of immediate tensions be at the cost of heightened authoritarianism becoming the “new norm” and that much harder to roll back?

The country still has much to worry about. As the crisis continues it reveals traits that are antithetical to how we once preferred to view America—a nation of ideals based, we told the world (and ourselves), on a foundation of enlightened principles.

How now to make our country exceptional, given that we’ve seen we’re not yet so?

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© 2026 by Eric Nilsson