I, _____________________ do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend and bear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution to the State of Illinois, and the territory, institutions and facilities thereof, both public and private, against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties upon which I am about to enter. And I do further swear (or affirm) that I do not advocate, nor am I, nor have I been a member of any political party or organization that advocates the overthrow of the government of the United States or of this State by force or violence, and that during such time as I am affiliated with the (organization redacted), I will not advocate nor become a member of any political party or organization that advocates the overthrow of the government of the United States or of this State by force or violence.

Signature: _______________________
Witness: _______________________

—

I read the oath again and again, feeling out my thoughts and conscience for an answer. The training session was almost over and volunteers were lining up to collect the forms.

“..didn’t see that one coming,” I thought to myself as the man at the front of the room made his closing statements. There’s something peculiar about a civilian volunteer force having to take an oath such as this before being allowed to sign up. I say the pledge of allegiance, isn’t that enough?

No, that wasn’t it. At that point I was only kidding myself–I knew the reason why I was confused, but didn’t want to face the reality of it: it was an oath I couldn’t take. I couldn’t bring myself to sign it. I just couldn’t figure out why.

I folded the application between the pages of my training manual and shuffled towards the door.

—

“Did you forget to turn in your form?” On the way home, my wife had been flipping through the manual with casual interest and discovered my dirty little secret.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I think I need some more time to think it over.” Not a lie, just a way of postponing it. Both my wife and my in-laws are involved and want me to join. They were happy enough that I showed interest in the training course tonight, but I suspect they might hope for just a little bit more. The advanced class next, perhaps, then full-fledged membership. It’s not that they’re pressing it, or even thinking about it for that matter, just that the subject is bound to come up at some point.

“Why didn’t you join?” they’d eventually ask. I didn’t have an answer I thought they’d understand.

What was so hard about signing the dotted line, anyway? Why not just fork it over? No conflict, no guilt, no conundrum. Any possible family expectation concerning the matter would be satisfied, I’d have a volunteer service to list on my resume and, hey, it could be lots of fun. Besides, I’m sure this is one of those standard, required forms that gets filed with all the rest.

Still, something didn’t feel right about signing it.

I read over the oath page again, looking over each section. Defend the U.S. Constitution. Check. I do that every chance I get. Defend the State Constitution. Sure. It could use a little tweaking given the traditionally corrupt state of politics in Illinois, but hey. Defend it against all enemies foreign and domestic. You betcha. No mental reservations. Check.

“And I do further swear,” I continued to read aloud,”that I do not advocate, nor am I, nor have I been a member of any political party or organization that advocates the overthrow of the government of the United States or this State by force or violence.”

Bingo. No mental reservations: uncheck.

“I will not advocate nor become a member of any political party or organization that advocates…” I was getting the picture.

Insert thought bubble here.

It’s not as if I was in favor of overthrowing the government, nor was I harboring any fantasies that I could if I tried. On the contrary, I’ve been actively working to change the government and make the country a better place for all. Sure, we have an imperfect system, but is it truly beyond repair? Why was this so hard for me?

Imagine a light-bulb appearing over my head as I sat, searching for reasons why I would ever find myself in a situation where I was trying to overthrow the government by force. Two words made their way into my mind, and when they did they brought with them a mingled sense of curiosity and fear: “What if?”

What if the government’s spiraling trend towards some sort of nightmare police state continued? What if it were amplified and accelerated by some unforeseen event? What if organizations who opposed it became outlawed and oppressed? These were all symptoms of a much more basic question:

What if defending the Constitution meant overthrowing the government by force?

It asks to defend against all enemies “foreign and domestic.” Hey, even with the current trend in fascist policies and secretive decision-making, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility, though it won’t get to that point for a long time. Suppose, however, that we have another 9/11 type of event. And another.

Just like last time, we’d huddle together out of fear, screaming for the blood of the perpetrators while condemning the government for failing to protect us. “There should have been some way to stop this,” we’ll claim,”you didn’t do enough to keep it from happening!”

Again, we’ll willingly surrender more and more of our rights in exchange for feeling safe again. The Right Wing will boast of how they knew, all along, that this would happen if the Liberals were in power.

Forget that terrorism is, by its very nature, random and unpredictable. Nobody expects someone to walk into a football stadium and blow themselves up, taking with them as many people as they can. We’re also stumped for ideas of how to prevent such a tragedy, yet we knowingly turn a blind eye to the kinds of policies that have pushed people to such depths of desperation.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” I knew the answer before I asked the question.

What would it be like if I were on the receiving end of this oppression? I tried to imagine myself getting to the point where I was desperate enough for change that I’d be willing to do anything to get it.

It forced me to visit the darkest depths of my mind as I imagined my family being taken away from me, never to be heard from again. I thought of being held in a dirty cell for months at a time, being beaten and shocked, starved and mocked daily for some of the things I’ve said on this very blog.

I imagine losing my dignity to those who were incapable of giving a fuck about you or your problems. They’re the patriots, right? You’re just some luckless shit that happened to be in their path.

Would regaining my Constitutional rights to be protected from this kind of situation be worth such a fight? Would it be worth dying for? I think it would.

The government would brand me a terrorist while claiming to uphold American values and vowing to protect them from the likes of me. People like me, who only want their lives back. People like me, who speak out and are labeled traitors by their jingoist countrymen.

Who am I kidding? This is already happening.

Even now, the imperialists and the fascists within our own government are working day and night to ensure that power is centralized in a way that could make all of this possible. While they’re doing it, they turn on the charm and smile before the cameras while selling us on the same old insipid lines: “We’ll protect the values of this great nation.” “We’re behind the average Joe.” “We want everyone to live the American Dream.” “It’s time to get tough on crime.” “We’re the freest, greatest nation on earth.”

We ritually misquote the founding fathers for political gain. We insult your intelligence. We lie.

These days, the domestic threats are more of a danger than foreign ones.

Even so, I pondered, could I ever imagine myself walking into a subway and pressing a button that I know will result in the death of every man, woman and child on that train? I’d like to think I’d have the sense to target those responsible rather than people whose death will only fuel their rhetoric. I haven’t experienced anything as painful as what has led so many people to believe this is the only way. Maybe after a certain point, desperation turns into apathy. I don’t know. However, I’m certain that if it ever did get to that point, it wouldn’t be about change; it would be about revenge.

“No,” I thought to myself,”I’d never get to that point.” I’m satisfied enough with my own answer, though I hope never to experience the kind of oppression that would lead me there. Yet still, I found it harder than ever to take such an oath upon myself.

It sits in front of me as I type this, causing me to wonder how a pile of words could get me so worked up. Why not just sign it and forget about it. I’m probably just reading into it too much. Jeez, it’s not like I’m signing over my soul. On the other hand…

No, I don’t think I will sign it, because if push comes to shove, I’ll have to make a choice between being a good German and doing what I’m told, or standing up for what I believe in regardless of the cost. I’m sticking with my principles on this one.

Thank you for reading.