To the men and women of the United States Armed Forces,
I’m writing to you not as a politician, a scholar, or a businessperson, but as a fellow citizen—someone who deeply believes in the nation you’ve sworn to defend. I’m grateful for your service, aware of your sacrifice, and respectful of the immense responsibility you carry.
You’ve taken an oath that few others ever will: to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.” That oath is the moral compass of your duty. It ties you, not to any one leader or political party, but to the timeless principles that define our Republic.
Right now, as you’re being ordered to turn against your fellow citizens, I’m asking you to remember the sacred limits of that duty to follow only lawful orders and the sacred power of that duty to refuse unlawful orders.
You’re being ordered to stop Americans from peacefully protesting their government—citizens of various backgrounds and beliefs, united by nothing more radical than the conviction that this country they love can and must do better. The president wants to silence them—not through persuasion, but through force.
Any order—even from a president—that directs military force against Americans who are exercising their constitutional rights is an unlawful order. Obeying it would be a betrayal of everything you’ve sworn to protect. You have both the right and the duty to refuse it.
Despite his claims of chaos stemming from protests, local leaders and citizens report the protests are overwhelmingly peaceful, with only a few isolated incidents of violence—well within the abilities and rights of local law enforcement to handle. Many mayors and governors are standing up for their citizens’ rights to protest and calling for peaceful, local solutions—not military involvement.
The Duty That Outlives Power
When you raised your right hand, you didn’t swear allegiance to a president, a party, or a momentary government. You swore allegiance to an idea—the Constitution of the United States. That oath isn’t just symbolic; it’s binding.
The Constitution you promised to defend protects some of our most sacred rights: free speech, peaceful assembly, and the right to petition the government for change. That means your ultimate loyalty is to the principles of liberty, equality, and justice that define who we are as a nation.
When citizens exercise these rights—mostly peacefully and lawfully—they’re not enemies of the state. They’re the very heart of democracy. Moving against them based on lies or political motives isn’t just wrong, it’s a violation of your oath.
And when those in power twist the Constitution and other laws to command your obedience against your own people, you’re not bound to obey. You’re bound to resist.
The Uniform Code of Military Justice makes it clear: only lawful orders must be followed. The Posse Comitatus Act forbids the military from enforcing domestic law except under rare, clearly defined circumstances—circumstances that don’t exist at this time. The Insurrection Act isn’t a political convenience or a way to silence dissent—it’s a last resort for true rebellion or lawlessness, when the rule of law collapses, not for peaceful protest.
An order rooted in falsehood, designed to suppress lawful dissent, isn’t lawful at all.
We The People
The people protesting in the streets are exercising the same rights you defend. They’re teachers, veterans, nurses, mechanics, and more—citizens just like you, the very people you swore to protect.
They might disagree with the government, they might speak uncomfortable truths, they might demand change—but that’s not disloyalty. That’s democracy. The right to dissent is what separates a republic from an empire, a free people from a fearful one.
Turning the military against those voices won’t preserve order. It’ll destroy the public trust that gives the military its honor and legitimacy.
They’re in the streets because they believe America can still listen to its conscience and correct its course. You and they are bound by the same Constitution. You defend it with your strength; they defend it with their voices. Both are acts of courage. Both are acts of service.
The Danger of Political Obedience
History is full of examples of what happens when the military becomes a tool of politics. When the line between defending the nation and defending a ruler blurs, freedom starts to fade. Nations that let their military become an instrument of fear instead of a protector of liberty never end up free.
The founders of this country understood that risk. That’s why they placed the military under civilian control but made it clear that no one—not even the president—stands above the Constitution.
Civilian institutions—our courts, legislatures, the press, and the people—must always be the ones to resolve political conflict. The military’s job is to defend those institutions and protect the promise that no American will ever live in fear of their own government’s military.
Your role isn’t to protect a leader’s image or to shield an administration from criticism. It’s to protect the freedoms that make this country worth serving. And now, as many in our courts and legislatures bend the political knee of obedience—forsaking their constitutional duty—the weight of that responsibility falls even more heavily on you.
True Courage in a Moment of Testing
Courage isn’t shown only in combat. Sometimes it takes even greater courage to stand firm against unlawful power. Every generation of American service members has faced moments when duty and conscience collided. From My Lai to Abu Ghraib, we’ve learned—painfully—that blind obedience can destroy the very values we’re meant to defend.
Refusing an unjust order isn’t disloyalty. It’s the highest form of loyalty—loyalty to the Republic, to the law, and to the truth. It takes moral courage to stand firm when power demands what the Constitution forbids.
You have the power to stop the wrong before it starts. You have the power to protect the very people you serve. And by doing so, you will honor your oath, uphold the Constitution, and stay true to the generations who trusted you with this sacred duty.
That the Republic May Stand
This nation owes you its deepest gratitude. But defending liberty doesn’t end at the water’s edge—it lives in every choice to do what’s right, even when it’s hard. The Republic needs you now, as it always has—not to silence its people, but to stand with them.
When you’re asked to turn your training, your power, and your weapons against peaceful Americans based on lies or political pressure, remember this: you’re the final guardians of the Republic. You have the authority—and the duty—to say no.
When you’re asked to choose between obedience and principle, between fear and freedom, between serving an individual and serving our Republic—choose the Republic. Stand with the Constitution. Stand with the people. Stand with the truth.
The measure of your service won’t be found in obedience to power, but in loyalty to the principles that make this nation worth defending.
With gratitude, hope, and respect,
Patriotic Quill