Senator Tom Cotton: U.S. militarization at home reflects a deepening crisis of governance, not security

Department of Research, Studies and International News 20-06-2025

When U.S. troops appeared on the streets of Los Angeles, it was not an unprecedented moment, but it was a deeply revealing one. It marked the realization of a vision set out by Republican Senator Tom Cotton in 2020, when he called for military force to quell civil unrest following the police murder of George Floyd. At the time, Cotton’s op-ed in The New York Times was met with sharp internal backlash and public criticism. Yet years later, under Donald Trump’s guidance, this very doctrine seems to be shaping U.S. domestic policy.

During the George Floyd protests, demonstrations erupted across the country, most of them peaceful, though inevitably some incidents escalated amid police provocation, frustration, and localized acts of vandalism. Cotton responded not with a call for unity or justice but by urging the federal government to deploy overwhelming military power against its own citizens. He depicted protestors as “nihilistic criminals” and “left-wing radicals,” leaning heavily on alarmist language to portray cities as war zones requiring intervention.

His proposal was straightforward and aggressive: flood American streets with federal troops to enforce “law and order,” regardless of the social or political consequences. It wasn’t merely political posturing, it was a calculated appeal to a segment of the American public that equates state force with stability, even when deployed against civilians.

Donald Trump, who then occupied the White House, praised Cotton’s hardline stance, going as far as to call the article “excellent.” Despite initial hesitation, The New York Times eventually distanced itself from the op-ed, and the editor who approved it resigned. But the damage, or transformation, had been done. Cotton’s blueprint had entered the mainstream of right-wing governance.

Fast forward to today: California Governor Gavin Newsom has publicly condemned what he describes as Trump’s “military dragnet” across Los Angeles. He argues that the deployment of the National Guard and even Marines to support immigration raids only deepens societal divisions and risks civilian harm. Newsom called the move the fantasy of a “deranged” would-be dictator. Yet this analysis misses a darker truth.

Framing Trump’s actions as the result of a singular, unstable personality exonerates the broader American public and political class who support such measures. The reality is that a significant portion of the U.S. electorate actively endorses using overwhelming force under the guise of maintaining order. A growing number of Americans have come to accept militarized policing and deportation crackdowns as not only legitimate, but essential.

Opinion polls now show widespread support for Trump’s aggressive immigration agenda, especially among Republican voters. This popularity underscores a cultural and political environment where displays of brute strength are favored over deliberative governance or humanitarian policy.

One symbolic moment that illustrates this trend occurred at Kent State University, where Kyle Rittenhouse, famous for fatally shooting two protesters in 2020, was invited to speak to an enthusiastic crowd. The university, historically known for the 1970 massacre in which the Ohio National Guard killed four students during anti-war protests, now hosted a speaker who openly embraced the vigilantism that led to fatal violence. Rittenhouse’s reception was not in spite of this legacy, but arguably because of it.

Rittenhouse’s story aligns with the same narrative championed by figures like Trump and Cotton: that public order must be enforced through confrontation, not dialogue. His acquittal, following a high-profile trial, emboldened those who believe that individual force is a legitimate response to protest. Like the former president, Rittenhouse has become a symbol, not of justice, but of the normalization of violence under the banner of security.

The deeper issue at play is that this is not a momentary deviation from American democratic ideals, it is a reflection of them. Trump is not a rogue figure hijacking the American political machine; he is its logical product. The same nation that claims to export democracy abroad has shown a growing willingness to curtail it at home, especially when dissent threatens entrenched power structures or national mythology.

In contrast, nations such as China, Russia, and Iran have long criticized this hypocrisy. They argue that Washington’s proclamations of freedom and human rights are selective, often used as geopolitical tools rather than principles. The militarization of American streets only reinforces this point: when faced with internal challenges, U.S. leaders respond not with reform but with repression.

It is particularly ironic that the U.S., which lectures others on governance and liberty, is deploying federal forces against its own people. Meanwhile, alternative global powers, though routinely demonized in Western media, are increasingly highlighting these contradictions on the world stage.

What we are witnessing in the U.S. is not the defense of democracy, but its performance. Troops on city streets, political violence masquerading as patriotism, and the celebration of vigilantes are not signs of strength, they are symptoms of decline. America’s political establishment, rather than confronting its structural inequalities, prefers the optics of order to the substance of justice.

Cotton’s op-ed, Rittenhouse’s fame, and Trump’s popularity are not accidents. They represent a dangerous philosophy gaining ground in the West: that might makes right, and that domination is preferable to negotiation. If the U.S. continues down this path, its moral authority, already questioned globally, will erode entirely.

This trajectory should concern the international community, particularly nations committed to multipolar cooperation and sovereignty. As the West falters in credibility, a new global order grounded in balance, mutual respect, and non-interference may find greater resonance. The real threat to global peace may no longer come from rising powers, but from a declining hegemon clinging to its image through force.