The White House Demolition: Tearing Down Democracy at Home, and Bombing It Abroad

While thousands of Americans go unpaid, the tear gas, the bombs, and the cranes keep getting funded.

Cranes at the gates. The White House, the People’s House, isn’t just under renovation; it’s being dismantled from within. This Administration calls it modernization. But what’s happening in Washington is demolition. You can see it in the institutions that once upheld the rule of law and hear it in the drone hum over foreign skies. At home, they’re gutting the foundations of democracy. Abroad, they’re bombing by decree. Both are part of the same project, a government that no longer governs, but rules.

Domestic demolition: from tear-gas to troops

The demolition began quietly. An executive order here, a silenced inspector general there. Then came the redefinitions: dissent labeled “extremism,” oversight “red tape,” and militarized agents recast as civic enforcers.

In Chicago last week, federal agents deployed tear gas against protesters after a high-speed Border Patrol chase, one of several clashes across the country. In Portland, agents again used tear gas outside an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) facility as concerns mounted about federal tactics.

Meanwhile, a federal judge pressed immigration officials over their use of force in Chicago, despite a court order limiting such methods. The legal framework is shifting quickly. The same Administration that wants to erase guards at the borders is now positing that domestic protests and political opposition are grounds for riot-control deployment, National Guard intervention, and “riot” designations. Indeed, a U.S. appeals court recently allowed deployment of National Guard troops to Portland, lifting a block on their use in protest states.

What we’re witnessing isn’t simply politicized law enforcement; it’s the militarization of civic life. Dissent is being treated as a security threat. The People’s House stands, but the people are increasingly treated as adversaries.

Meanwhile, the government itself is shut down

As troops fill the streets, the machinery of government is grinding to a halt.
The U.S. government shutdown has now entered its 20th day—leaving around 1.4 million federal workers either furloughed or working without pay. Among them: the agency that safeguards the nation’s nuclear stockpile. The National Nuclear Security Administration (NNSA) confirmed it is furloughing roughly 1,400 employees, leaving fewer than 400 on duty. It’s the first time in the agency’s history that America’s nuclear guardians have been sent home. The NNSA oversees not just maintenance of the arsenal, but also the secure transport of nuclear weapons across the country.

As someone who’s lived through shutdowns before, I can’t overstate the toll they take, not just on federal employees, but on entire communities that depend on them. It’s not theoretical stress. It’s missed paychecks, canceled childcare, delayed prescriptions, and bills piling up while politicians posture. The ripple spreads fast. In my hometown of El Paso (where I’m currently writing this from and visiting), it hit small business owners overnight when the Amigo Airsho was abruptly canceled at the last minute. Vendors who had already invested thousands in supplies—food, tents, staff—were left stranded with no recourse. The event brings tens of thousands to the Borderland each year, a rare celebration that lifts the economy and morale. But this time, Fort Bliss was told to stand down, while other military events across the country went on as planned. I don’t buy for a second that this was an accident. It’s punishment through neglect, a calculated choice to let some communities feel the pain more than others. The shutdown isn’t just about budgets, it’s another form of demolition. When the government stops functioning, when agencies furlough nuclear engineers while still funding tear gas and drone strikes, that’s not mismanagement. It’s intentional decay.

Overseas demolition: force by executive decree

While the wreckers tear at the House at home, drones circle the skies of the Caribbean and beyond. The Administration calls it “counter-narcotics.” It’s not just smuggling boats—they’re being labeled “narco-terrorists” and struck without transparent legal processes. On 14 October, the U.S. military announced it killed six suspected drug smugglers off the coast of Venezuela, the fifth such strike since September, with 27 dead so far. Just days later, on 19 October, the U.S. struck another smuggling vessel, killing three allegedly Colombian “narco-terrorists.” The Administration’s language ties this to terror, not crime.

And it doesn’t stop there. According to reporting, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) is playing a central and previously undisclosed role in these operations, supplying satellite and signal intercept data. At the same time, the actual attacks are happening in international waters, with minimal transparency. Labeling these strikes as “armed conflict” rather than law enforcement blurs every line. Because once a regime asserts it can bomb foreign vessels without due process, what stops it from using that same logic at home?

Two engines of power: surveillance and sweeping authority

You want to see how the domestic and overseas demolitions reinforce each other? Look at data and authority. At home, agencies are merging databases—immigration status, criminal records, social media data, biometric feeds—and tying them into “risk” scores and watchlists. What was once meant to counter terrorism is now used to monitor political dissent.

Overseas, what was previously restrained by international law, oversight, and congressional debate is now framed as “urgent” and “unreviewable.” The same architecture of unaccountable action applies both inside the country and beyond its borders.

When surveillance is normalized at home, extrajudicial strikes abroad become a natural extension. When military force is normalized abroad, military methods inside can’t be far behind.

Human cost: the rubble at home and abroad

Inside the United States, the demolition looks like this: raids, arrests, anonymous data profiles, agents in unmarked vehicles, people gassed in the streets. Peaceful protests become “threats”; civic activism becomes “rioting.”

In another theater, it looks like this: fishing boats turned war targets, narcotics vessels turned terrorist ships, civilians dying off foreign shores, governments protesting breaches of sovereignty. We’re told these are “precision” actions, but precision is meaningless when the legal foundation is gone.

Back home, judges and community groups are now in courtrooms just to force federal agents to use body-cams and record their own use of force.

The architecture of fear

This demolition strategy, whether tear gas in the streets or missiles overseas, works because it erodes public expectation of protection, due process, and accountability. Once citizens believe that the government can act without oversight at home, they’re less likely to challenge actions abroad. Once a nation justifies strikes without congressional approval abroad, it becomes easier to justify sweeps and militarized policing at home.

The People’s House is built on the idea that no one is above the law. But if the law is rewritten daily, if dissent is redefined as extremism, if oversight is reclassified as obstruction, then the House is no longer about the people; it’s about power.

Reconstruction: what comes next

They can demolish buildings, they can deploy drones, they can send in the tear-gas canisters. But they cannot demolish the idea of democracy itself. The next step is not passive hope; it’s active rebuilding. Oversight must be restored. Congressional checks must be reclaimed. Public spaces must remain more than zones of force.

History has shown this playbook before. It always ends the same way: the strongmen fall. The people stand. When the cranes come for the White House, remember, the People’s House was never just its walls. It’s every one of us who still believes that no one, not even a president, is above the law. They may be demolishing democracy, but they’re not demolishing us.

More soon,

Olivia

P.S. I’m still down in Texas working on some projects and special features I’ll be sharing soon.