An Open Letter to r/Republican on Reddit

I raised my right hand in January 1994 and swore an oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That oath didn’t expire. It doesn’t have a partisan exception clause.

I’ve voted Republican in every election since I was old enough to vote. I’ve served this country in uniform. I’ve spent my adult life believing that conservative principles weren’t just political preferences but essential safeguards for everyone’s freedom. By any measure, I should be one of you.

Instead, I was permanently banned for being “anti-Republican” after posting the content of this Substack article I wrote.

I didn’t promote Democratic policies. I didn’t attack Republican voters. I didn’t argue for progressive ideology or leftist economics or any of the things “anti-Republican” should actually mean.

All I did was warn that the precedents you’re celebrating today become the powers you’ll face tomorrow. That the machinery you’re building to target people you oppose will be inherited by administrations you’ll despise. That abandoning constitutional constraints to “finally get things done” doesn’t build durable conservative power—it eliminates the only safeguards that could protect conservative values when power inevitably changes hands.

I made an argument about executive overreach and institutional checks from an explicitly conservative constitutional framework. I invoked the oath I and all my fellow veterans swore, the principles all conservatives claim to hold, and the long-term strategic thinking that used to define conservatism.

And I was told that makes me the enemy.

Think about what you’re actually saying when you do that.

You’re saying “Republican” no longer means holding to a set of principles about limited government and constitutional constraints. It means unquestioning loyalty to current tactics and leadership. You’re saying any expression of concern, any warning about consequences, any appeal to the principles we used to share is grounds for expulsion.

You’re saying the movement has become so fragile that even friendly criticism from within is treated as hostile action.

And here’s what should terrify you about that: Movements that can’t tolerate internal disagreement don’t course-correct. They don’t adapt. They don’t learn from mistakes. They just become more rigid and more detached from reality until they shatter.

The greatest threat to any cause doesn’t come from external enemies. It comes from the moment when loyalty becomes more important than truth, when solidarity matters more than principle, when keeping everyone in line becomes more urgent than asking whether you’re headed in the right direction.

You’ve created a space where a lifelong conservative can be banned for making a conservative argument. Where a veteran can be expelled for taking their oath seriously. Where “anti-Republican” means “raised constitutional concerns we’d rather not think about.”

I understand why you did it. I really do.

It’s easier to ban dissent than engage with it. It’s more comfortable to expel the person raising uncomfortable questions than to actually answer them. It’s simpler to maintain ideological purity than deal with the messy reality that principled people who share your values might reach different conclusions about tactics and strategy.

But easy isn’t the same as wise.

Because here’s what you’re not thinking about: Every person you ban for raising good-faith concerns, every voice you silence for asking uncomfortable questions, every ally you cast out for insufficient loyalty – they don’t disappear. They don’t suddenly decide you were right all along.

They just learn that your movement has no room for them.

And they’re not the only ones watching.

There are others in your community right now who see what happened to me and are thinking twice about speaking up. They’re watching you decide that conformity matters more than conscience. They’re learning that expressing doubt means losing community, being called a traitor, facing excommunication.

So they stay silent. They upvote what they’re supposed to upvote. They keep their concerns to themselves.

And your community gets smaller, louder, and more disconnected from the principles it claims to represent.

I know what it costs to speak up. I’ve lost friendships. I’ve been called a RINO and worse. I’ve been accused of betraying everything I claimed to believe in. All because I took my oath seriously and refused to pretend that abandoning constitutional constraints was somehow conservative.

But here’s the thing: I’d rather be banned for defending the Constitution than welcomed for abandoning it.

I’d rather stand alone with my principles intact than stand with you while you dismantle everything those principles were supposed to protect.

I’d rather honor my oath than keep my membership in a club that’s forgotten what it stands for.

You can build whatever community you want. You can enforce whatever rules serve your purposes. You can ban everyone who makes you uncomfortable and create the perfect echo chamber where nobody ever questions anything.

But when the machinery you’re building today gets turned on people you care about tomorrow – and it will, because power always changes hands—don’t say nobody warned you.

When future administrations use the precedents you’re celebrating to target your communities, your rights, your freedoms—and they will, because you’re teaching them how—don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.

When your children ask why you abandoned the constitutional principles you claimed to hold sacred, what will you tell them? That you were just following the party line? That loyalty mattered more than principle? That it seemed like a good idea at the time?

I’m asking you to think past this moment. Think about what you’re building. Think about who inherits it. Think about whether you’d accept these same powers in the hands of a president you despise.

Because that’s coming. Not maybe. Guaranteed.

There’s a simple test here: Would you accept this if the other side did it?

If your answer is no—if you’d be horrified by a Democratic president doing exactly what you’re cheering today—then you know this is wrong. You know banning people for raising these concerns is wrong. You know that “anti-Republican” has become a weapon for silencing legitimate debate rather than a meaningful description of opposing views.

You know it.

The question is whether you have the courage to admit it.

I still believe in the conservative principles I always have. Limited government. Constitutional constraints. Individual liberty. The rule of law. Institutional integrity. I believe these principles are worth defending even when—especially when—they’re politically inconvenient.

If that makes me anti-Republican, then the term no longer means what I spent my life thinking it meant.

And you should be far more troubled by that than I am.

Because I still have my principles. I still have my oath. I still have my integrity.

What do you have left when loyalty becomes your only principle?

My oath didn’t expire.

If you’re a veteran, neither did yours.

The question is whether you remember what you swore to defend.

Respectfully,

Someone Who Still Does