June 14th
Two visions of America, one date, and the battle for the soul of a republic
Today, tanks are rolling down Constitution Avenue. Protesters are gathering in over 2,000 locations across the country. America is holding up a mirror to itself and seeing not one nation, but two competing visions of what this country should be.
The Army's Birthday
On June 14, 1775, the Continental Congress authorized the creation of the Continental Army to fight King George III. It was America's first act of organized military resistance against monarchy—the moment we decided that no man should rule over free people simply by accident of birth.
Two years later, on June 14, 1777, that same Congress adopted our flag. Thirteen stripes, thirteen stars, "representing a new constellation"—a republic born from the radical idea that power comes from the consent of the governed, not the divine right of kings.
These were dangerous, revolutionary ideas that got people hanged for treason.
The Parade
Today, $45 million later, M1 Abrams tanks—each weighing 60 tons—are rolling through our capital. Six thousand seven hundred soldiers are marching in formation. Apache helicopters are flying overhead. The president, celebrating his 79th birthday, is reviewing troops from a viewing stand.
It is spectacular. Perfectly choreographed. Disciplined. Powerful.
It is also everything our founders fought against.
Not the military itself—they understood the need for defense. But this: the spectacle of unchecked power, the deliberate conflation of personal celebration with national identity, the visual grammar of dominance that says "obey" rather than "consent."
In France, Bastille Day celebrates the overthrow of monarchy. In Britain, Trooping the Colour honors constitutional monarchy with clear limits. In North Korea, they celebrate the Kim dynasty.
What are we celebrating today?
The Counter-Narrative
Across the country, Americans are gathering under a different banner: "No Kings." They're not going to Washington—that's strategic. Instead, they're claiming every other space, from courthouse steps to city parks.
They're carrying American flags too. Not as props in a carefully orchestrated display of power, but as symbols reclaimed for democracy. Their message is simple: "The flag doesn't belong to any one person. It belongs to us."
This isn't anti-military. Many protesters are veterans themselves. This is pro-Constitution, pro-republic, pro-democracy. A reminder that in America, we don't do kings.
The Historical Mirror
The irony cuts deep. June 14th—the very date we first organized to resist a king—has been chosen to host a display that critics call "what dictators do." The same date we adopted a flag representing a new form of government has become the backdrop for competing claims about what that government should be.
History doesn't repeat, but it rhymes. And today's rhyme is discordant.
Washington himself—the man who could have been king—walked away from power. He set the precedent that in America, military power serves civilian authority, not the other way around.
Today feels different. Not because the military is staging a coup—nothing so dramatic. But because the symbolism is inverted. Instead of citizen-soldiers serving the republic, we have the republic serving the spectacle.
The Cost of Spectacle
Forty-five million dollars. Street damage alone will cost $16 million. Meanwhile, federal programs face cuts, and Americans struggle with basic needs.
But the real cost isn't financial. It's symbolic. Every democracy has a social contract about how power is displayed and justified. Today's parade is breaking that contract by turning military service into political theater, by making the Army's birthday about someone else's ego.
The protesters understand this. That's why they're gathering in 2,000 places to say: "Not in our name. Not with our flag. Not in our democracy."
What We're Learning
June 14, 2025, is teaching us that America contains multitudes—some that understand the fragility of democratic norms, others that see strength only in spectacle. Some that remember why we fought our first revolution, others that seem nostalgic for the very monarchy we overthrew.
We're learning that our symbols are contested territory. The flag, the military, the Constitution itself—their meaning isn't fixed. They mean what we collectively decide they mean, and that decision gets made and remade through actions like today's.
Most importantly, we're learning that democracy isn't a thing you achieve once and keep forever. It's a practice. It's the ongoing work of negotiating power, defending norms, and ensuring that government serves the people rather than the other way around.
The Choice Being Made
Today, millions of Americans are making a choice. In Washington, some are choosing spectacle. In 2,000 other places, others are choosing dissent.
The founders would recognize this tension. They built a system designed to channel it productively—through elections, through peaceful protest, through the marketplace of ideas. They knew that power corrupts, that vigilance is the price of freedom, that every generation must choose democracy anew.
History will judge which choice better honors the revolutionary spirit of June 14, 1775—the day Americans first organized to resist kings.
But history is written by the living, not the dead. And we're still writing it.