Sometimes I hear from ordinary people who wish to do something about the multiplying threats to freedom and democracy that we face under the growing Trump tyranny, but fear that their activism may cost them dearly. Our country is on the road to a fascist state and the Trump administration comes up daily with new ways to divert attention from its lack of popularity, untethered to democratic norms.
In August 2025, for example, Trump declared a public safety emergency in Washington, D.C., federalizing the Metropolitan Police under Attorney General Pam Bondi and deploying approximately 800 National Guard troops—undertaking aggressive actions including curfews, checkpoints, and clearing homeless encampments. These measures raised serious alarm about federal overreach and suppression of dissent, especially when there is no public safety emergency and, on the contrary, the crime rate has gone down significantly not only in Washington, but in most other cities in the U.S. He then spectacularly announced that this action “will go further.” The cities he identified as potential next targets include Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Baltimore, and Oakland. All the cities Trump listed are large, urban centers with Democratic leadership. Some—including Baltimore and Oakland—are also majority-Black cities with mayors who are Black. This pattern unveils a politically—and racially—charged strategy of targeting progressive, often minority-governed cities under the guise of public safety.
Another notable example: Mahmoud Khalil, a Columbia University graduate and lawful permanent resident (green card holder), was arrested in March 2025 by ICE agents. He was detained thousands of miles from home, without a warrant, and the government initiated deportation proceedings under a rarely used Cold War–era immigration provision that permits removal if a noncitizen is deemed a foreign policy threat. Importantly, his offense was his pro‑Palestinian activism, including negotiating campus protests—not criminal conduct. And all it took to consider Khalil a “threat” was for Secretary of State Marco Rubio to rule so, without showing any evidence.
The case exemplifies a direct attempt to deport a lawful immigrant purely for exercising constitutionally protected speech. Criticism has been sharp: civil liberties groups have labeled it a dangerous precedent, potentially expanding the executive’s immigration power.
Politicization of human rights reporting is another weapon in the Trump arsenal. The 2025 U.S. State Department’s annual human rights report was manipulated to align with Trump’s political preferences. Allies—including Hungary and El Salvador—received leniency despite documented abuses, while democratic allies were harshly criticized. The report also pared down coverage of LGBTQ+ rights, gender-based violence, and racial injustice, turning it into a tool for ideological propaganda.
Academic freedom has been under fire at multiple higher‑education institutions as well, under intense pressure from the Trump administration to conform to illiberal ideology. UCLA was targeted with a staggering $1 billion settlement demand tied to alleged civil rights violations—which critics called political extortion designed to police campus speech. Similarly, Columbia University agreed to constraints on its academic programs, including defining protest restrictions and changing intellectual‐diversity structures, after threats to freeze $400 million in federal funding. Brown University reached a deal restoring frozen funds and committed ~$50 million to workforce programs. The settlement also includes commitments to revise admissions policies, adopt specific definitions of “male” and “female” for sports and other programs, and other concessions. Similarly, the University of Pennsylvania made policy concessions to settle dubious cases, in what has been described as a political shakedown, and paid several million dollars. Harvard now appears inclined to pay $500 million in the face of blatantly political demands and threats. Other esteemed institutions facing federal pressure include the University of Michigan, Northwestern, Cornell, and Brown again. These schools are reportedly in the administration’s sights, possibly being instructed to follow Columbia’s model of settlement in exchange for restored funding. Programs to promote diversity, equality, and inclusion have been jettisoned not only at academic institutions, but across corporations, government, and society overall.
Anti-LGBTQ+ measures between May and August 2025 have intensified as the administration engaged in endorsing discredited “gender exploratory therapy,” slashing over $800 million in LGBTQ+ health research, banning transgender troops and athletes, dismantling youth programs, and censoring historical and cultural references. The Justice Department even subpoenaed clinics for providing gender-affirming care. Legal challenges have emerged, with critics calling this a coordinated assault on rights and healthcare. These measures weaken the military, hurt young people and their families, and endanger the health of the nation, but they satisfy a cruel thirst for punishment against disadvantaged groups that Trump believes will redoubt to his benefit.
In one of its most extreme spectacles, denaturalization has been turned into a political weapon. The Justice Department, with efforts like an expanded “Operation Janus,” is flagging naturalized citizens for revocation of citizenship based on broadly defined allegations. This shakes the core of constitutional protection and instills fear among immigrant communities.
The systematic targeting of lawyers, law firms, and the judiciary has been a hallmark of the Trump administration’s suppression tactics. Security clearances were revoked from high-profile attorneys (e.g., Alvin Bragg, Andrew Weissmann, Mark Zaid) who had worked on investigations involving Trump. Executive orders and memoranda restricted law firms like Covington & Burling, Perkins Coie, WilmerHale, Susman Godfrey, and Elias Law Group, often barring them from federal contracts or buildings, in retaliation for representing or associating with Trump’s political adversaries. Multiple lawsuits ensued, and courts issued injunctions citing chilling effects on legal advocacy. Judges who ruled against the administration or resisted its orders have become targets of public attacks, investigations, or harassment. One state judge in Milwaukee, Hannah Dugan, was arrested under highly suspicious circumstances, raising red flags about judicial independence.
Curtailing press access and free expression is so granular and absurd that the administration blocked Associated Press journalists from White House events—including briefings and Oval Office access—for refusing to adopt Trump’s preferred terminology (“Gulf of America” rather than “Gulf of Mexico”). Courts intervened, ordering the ban lifted—but even when mandated, AP found itself excluded from government events. Moreover, Executive Order 14290, issued on May 1, 2025, ended all federal funding for NPR and PBS, labeling them “biased media.” Both organizations sued, citing violations of the First Amendment.
Recent articles warn about a trend toward authoritarianism: Trump’s declaration of a “crime emergency” in D.C. is seen as a political spectacle, deployed to overshadow scandal (e.g., the Jeffrey Epstein case) or dissent—setting a chilling precedent for undermining democracy. Critics cite militarization, targeting of media with corporate settlements, and the broader creation of a domestic enforcement apparatus that checks dissent. As a prime example, in July 2025, Paramount Global—CBS’s parent company—agreed to a $16 million settlement with Trump. This was in resolution of a lawsuit pertaining to a 60 Minutes interview with then–Vice President Kamala Harris, which Trump falsely claimed had been deceptively edited. Although the company admitted no wrongdoing, two key conditions accompanied the settlement: the release of full interview transcripts of future presidential candidates, and the allocation of funds to Trump’s presidential library. After the highly popular comedian Stephen Colbert criticized the settlement, he was fired by CBS––an added bonus since Colbert was a thorn on Trump’ side. In return, Paramount’s was allowed to finalize its $8 billion merger with Skydance Media—approval of which hinged on a favorable review by the FCC, an agency taking orders from the Trump administration.
So, in the America of 2025, Trump’s intimidation pervades everything and fear has become ordinary, even mundane. It doesn’t need to arrive in jackboots on your doorstep; it sits beside you at the office, invisible but palpable, like static in the air. It is the hesitation before you raise your hand in a meeting, the reflex to close a browser tab when someone walks past your desk, the instinct to lower your voice in the café when a conversation drifts toward politics.
This is not paranoia conjured from thin air. In Ohio last spring, a man named Pedro Alvarez was arrested in Pasadena, Texas. He was charged with disrupting a city council meeting and had to pay a bond to be released after speaking about police overreach. He had been in the country for forty years; his passport was valid and current. It took his congresswoman’s intervention to have him released. In California, a public university professor critical of the administration’s foreign policy found herself under investigation for “misuse of research funds,” an allegation that evaporated once she resigned her tenured position.
Even Social Security and Medicare—once the untouchable fixtures of American life—are not immune. No one is being stripped of benefits by fiat, but in Florida, retirees have waited months longer for basic claims to be processed because local SSA offices were closed. One elderly woman in Tampa, after six months without her Medicare Part B reinstated, said she had learned “exactly how far they can go without crossing the line into something the courts would stop.”
The reach of intimidation is diffuse, and it’s easy to imagine the scenarios. A high school librarian in Texas may remove half her history section after the district receives a “guidance memo” on politically sensitive content. An IT contractor in Virginia deletes his Twitter account after hearing that his firm, which holds federal contracts, is reviewing employees’ public political activity. A nurse in Colorado tells friends she will no longer attend rallies, even on her days off, because she fears her hospital—dependent on Medicare reimbursements—could face an audit.
If this is the environment, how does one speak without self-destruction? The answer is not to retreat into silence, nor to launch blind attacks, but to move deliberately, with an internal map.
The first point on that map is knowledge. A middle-school teacher in Illinois learned that her state’s whistleblower protections applied to her if she exposed fake standardized test scores. Knowing her rights allowed her to act without losing her job. The second point is documentation. When a journalist in Arizona was barred from a public press conference, he recorded the exchange on his phone; that footage became evidence in the lawsuit that restored his access.
The second point is community. Some climate scientists, for example, faced concerns about potential impacts on federal funding and responded by collaborating and publishing critiques. One example involves Bethany Bradley, a professor at UMass Amherst, and her colleagues, who published an article in The Conversationadvocating for a renewed focus on climate adaptation science. To favor fossil fuel development, the administration reduces funding and personnel for climate adaptation science and tries to falsify evidence.
The third point is legal readiness. A legal aid volunteer may keep a lawyer’s number in her phone, along with a short script to use if questioned by federal agents. She may never need it, but the knowledge makes her bolder when she speaks at public forums. If you work with immigrants, check https://www.ilrc.org/red-cards-tarjetas-rojas, which allows you to print or order cards to be distributed among immigrants explaining their rights and what to say.
We are not yet in a place where dissent itself is outlawed. But we are in a place where dissent might cost you your job, your security, or your peace of mind—and where that possibility alone is enough to change behavior. The map is not a sword; it is a compass. It will not win a battle for you, but it might keep you from wandering into traps. And if enough people use it, the narrow, brambled paths of lawful resistance may widen into roads again, until the fences we’ve built inside our own heads begin to come down.
You’ll still need courage––no one can give you that.
Amaury Cruz is a writer, political activist, and retired lawyer living in South Carolina.