The Minister of Love

On live national television, a senior White House official claims the executive has “plenary authority”—complete, unrestricted power—over military deployment into states. Then he stops talking mid-sentence.

He holds no Senate-confirmed position. No public accountability. Yet he calls mid-level agency employees directly, bypassing chains of command. The message is consistent: hit your enforcement quotas or face career consequences. Resistance is bureaucratic obstruction.

In congressional hearings, he’s been asked about suspending constitutional protections. He treats it as a policy option, not authoritarian overreach. The pattern is clear: constitutional limits become bureaucratic obstacles, federalism principles turn into administrative inefficiencies, judicial review transforms into political obstruction.

When pressed on what “plenary authority” means for domestic military action, there’s no clarification. Just defiant silence or technical deflection—suggesting awareness that fully articulating the philosophy would make its nature undeniable.

His resume reveals years in ideological organizations drafting executive orders designed to circumvent legislative processes. Hundreds of them, waiting. This isn’t reactive governance. It’s implementation of detailed blueprints developed over years.

Career civil servants aren’t viewed as institutional memory or technical expertise. They’re obstacles to be removed, intimidated, or isolated. Constitutional constraints aren’t foundational principles requiring navigation—they’re temporary inconveniences awaiting the right moment to bypass.

The escalation follows a pattern: assert expanded authority in technical language, test institutional resistance, claim critics are politicizing routine functions, implement what was previously inconceivable. Each boundary crossed makes the next less remarkable. What was unthinkable becomes controversial, then routine.

The Minister of Justice

In congressional testimony, the nation’s top prosecutor openly acknowledges taking direct orders from the executive to prosecute political opponents. In previous eras, this admission would have ended careers. Now it draws applause.

The operational approach is consistent: attack questioners personally rather than answer substantively, accuse critics of the conduct being investigated, maintain talking points regardless of evidence. Body camera footage contradicts the official account? Deflect. Questions about meetings before politically motivated indictments? Counterattack.

Career prosecutors who question evidence sufficiency are terminated. Their replacements are inexperienced loyalists whose primary qualification is personal allegiance. The Civil Rights Division—traditionally focused on protecting vulnerable populations from discrimination—has been purged and repurposed. Now it investigates universities for diversity initiatives and local police departments for prosecuting political allies.

This isn’t policy disagreement. It’s role abandonment. The position exists to ensure equal justice under law. Instead it functions as sword against opponents, shield for allies.

The Minister of Peace

Major American cities are “war zones” requiring military-style intervention, according to the official leading domestic security operations. Urban areas governed by political opponents aren’t constituencies to serve—they’re territory to pacify.

Press events are carefully staged. Partisan media gets privileged access. Nonpartisan journalists stand behind barriers. Chemical weapons are deployed in residential neighborhoods not because situations require them, but because the displays project strength. Record enforcement numbers are announced while constitutional violations accumulate, largely unacknowledged.

At a White House roundtable featuring only partisan media figures, this official compares a loosely affiliated network of street activists to internationally designated terrorist organizations—groups that control territory, operate military wings, maintain formal command structures, carry out mass casualty bombings, kidnappings, assassinations.

Federal law enforcement and extremism experts describe the activists as a decentralized movement with no centralized leadership, formal membership, or organizational structure. The comparison is deliberate.

The roundtable occurs after an executive order formally designates these activists a “domestic terrorist organization”—despite having no organizational structure to designate. Days before the announcement, a pardoned January 6th participant posts publicly: “Who’s ready to go hunting? Because I know a few guys.”

The message is clear. The designation provides permission structure.

During the event, the chief law enforcement officer sits beside the executive echoing the condemnation: “This is not activism, it’s anarchy. We can’t and we will not let masked terrorists burn our buildings, attack our law enforcement and intimidate our communities.” The executive lists attacks attributed to the movement, suggests connections to violent incidents that law enforcement hasn’t established.

All witnesses at the roundtable affirm the terrorist designation without presenting evidence. No counterbalancing testimony. No federal law enforcement experts on domestic extremism. The purpose isn’t information gathering—it’s narrative reinforcement. Creating official record to justify extraordinary enforcement measures.

The strategy is deliberate: characterize opposition as existential threat, use extreme rhetoric to justify militarized response, formalize designation through executive authority, create official events providing appearance of factual basis, implement enforcement operations unacceptable against ordinary protesters but defensible against “terrorists.”

The result: an agency transformed from law enforcement to political instrument, where arrest quotas supersede judicial warrants and operational success is measured by media impact rather than legal sustainability. The rhetorical weaponization of “terrorism” provides cover for tactics that would otherwise face immediate constitutional challenge.

The Minister of Plenty

Bureaucrats should be “traumatically affected” by policy changes, says the budget director. They should wake up “not wanting to go to work” because they’re “increasingly viewed as villains.”

This isn’t administrative reform. It’s psychological warfare against career civil servants.

The tactical approach weaponizes the budget process: defund programs without legislative authorization, refuse to commit congressionally appropriated funds, use government shutdowns not as failures to resolve but as opportunities for permanent workforce reductions. The explicit targeting of “Democrat agencies” and blue-state infrastructure represents partisan application of federal resources that previous administrations—regardless of party—would have considered unconstitutional.

During a government shutdown he calls an “unprecedented opportunity,” $18 billion for New York City infrastructure is frozen. So is $8 billion in “green energy” funding for blue states.

The operational sophistication is remarkable. Before returning to government, he led an organization that drafted hundreds of executive orders, regulations, budget proposals. A shadow government ready to activate upon inauguration. Now it’s executing with bureaucratic precision.

The Minister of Health

An environmental attorney with no medical training or public health experience leads federal health policy. Immediately upon taking office: refuse to strongly encourage vaccination during disease outbreaks, promote unproven therapies with documented risks, systematically weaken federal health agencies through staff reductions and reorganization.

The governing philosophy treats scientific institutions not as repositories of expertise but as obstacles to ideological goals. Career scientists and physicians are viewed with suspicion. Their warnings about policy consequences are dismissed as partisan politics rather than professional judgment. When medical organizations condemn policies as dangerous to public health, there’s no reconsideration. Just defiance.

This isn’t cynical manipulation. It’s genuine conviction: scientific consensus is corrupt, established institutions cannot be trusted, individual research and personal intuition supersede systematic peer-reviewed evidence.

The Minister of War

Upon assuming office, the defense secretary summons senior military leadership worldwide to announce the department will now emphasize “war” over “defense.” Anyone uncomfortable with the new direction should resign.

The operational focus prioritizes cultural issues: physical fitness standards, grooming requirements, eliminating diversity programs. Strategic challenges from peer competitors receive less attention. Career officers are viewed with suspicion—potentially disloyal bureaucrats rather than professional warfighters. Security protocols are treated casually. Classified operational information is shared in unsecured communications, justified as necessary for rapid decision-making.

The governing style reflects media experience more than military discipline. Policies are announced for maximum public impact rather than operational effectiveness. Senior officers spend more energy managing internal cultural conflicts than external strategic threats.

The Minister of Information

Intelligence coordination is led by a figure whose defining characteristics are political heterodoxy and willingness to challenge institutional consensus. Upon assuming office: immediate restructuring dissolves offices responsible for identifying foreign influence, counterproliferation, and cyber threats. Overall workforce is cut by half to generate cost savings and eliminate positions viewed as pursuing “partisan agendas.”

The operating assumption: institutional intelligence priorities reflect bureaucratic bias rather than genuine threats. Leadership must fundamentally reorient agency missions.