No King's Day: America's Stand for Democracy

On June 14th, 2025, Americans from every corner of the nation came together for No Kings Day—a powerful, peaceful movement affirming that democracy belongs to the people, not any one leader. With over 2,000 rallies in all 50 states, millions stood united against authoritarianism and for the founding principles of our republic.

No Kings Day was a celebration of civic courage and unity, a day when communities large and small raised their voices to say, “America doesn’t do kings—not in 1776, and not today.” The movement’s strength was its hope: ordinary citizens reclaiming their role in shaping the nation’s future.

Yet, even as the day inspired millions, tragedy struck in Minnesota, where political violence claimed the lives of a distinguished and much-loved public servants  and her husband. The contrast was stark—a nation peacefully defending democracy while also confronting the dangers that threaten it from within.

In this brief, special episode of America’s Fractured Politics, Mark Mansour explores the spirit of No Kings Day, the resilience of American democracy, and the urgent work ahead to protect it for generations to come. Join us to remember, reflect, and recommit: the future of democracy is still ours to write.

Transcript

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Welcome to America's Fractured Politics. I'm Mark Mansour in Washington DC where I spent my career as an attorney and democratic activist. On this program, we examined the shifting tectonics of American political life, how power is built, wielded, and sometimes abused in the world's world's oldest democracy. My goal, as always, is to offer you not just headlines, but context and to help us all better understand the forces shaping our nation's future. June 14th, 2025 a day that was supposed to celebrate American tradition flags, waving the Army's birthday, the annual swell of patriotic music. And yes, Donald Trump's 79th birthday. But this year, something changed. That day became something else, something solemn, something fierce, something defiantly democratic. It became no King's Day. A day of protest, A day of principle, A day when millions of Americans said clearly, loudly, peacefully, this is not who we are, and we will not be ruled from coast to coast. In cities and small towns on college campuses and courthouse steps, Americans showed up by the millions. They weren't there for spectacle, they weren't there for party lines. They were there for an idea that in this country, power belongs to the people. That Presidents are not monarchs. The democracy is not a prop, and that a cult of personality is not a foundation for governance. They came together to say, we remember 1776. We remember why this country exists and we are not giving it away. What made no Kings Day powerful wasn't just the numbers, though they were historic. It was the moral clarity. It was the unity in the message that no man, no matter how rich, how loud, or how vengeful is above the law, it was a thunderous rejection of the idea that democracy is weak, that it must be bulldozed to be saved. They didn't come for social media clips, they came for something older, something noble. They came to remind us who we are. Meanwhile, in Washington, Donald Trump held court surrounded by tanks and fighter jets. Military bans and handpicked loyalists. Trump orchestrated a grotesque birthday celebration, a parade, an authoritarian spectacle lifted straight from the pages of a history book we swore we'd never repeat. He stood in the center of it all beneath massive American flags, flanked by generals with war warplanes, roaring overhead, and BA in the pageantry. Not one mention of unity, not one knot to the protests happening all in, all 50 states. Not a word for the millions who disagree with him. Not even a Pretensive humility. Instead, there was Marshall Music chance of USA from curated crowds and a speech that framed descent as treason and protest as chaos. It was not a celebration of America. It was a coronation of one man. And that's what No Kings Day was pushing back against the idea that public service is a stage that military hardware is a campaign prop. That the presidency is a throne. And while the country was absorbing these two competing images, millions peacefully defending democracy, while one man cloaked himself in its symbols, something else happened. Something horrific late the previous night in a quiet neighborhood outside Minneapolis, violence shattered the silence. A twisted, radicalized man dressed in a fake police uniform. Approached the home of former Minnesota House speaker Melissa Hortman and open fire killing her and her husband. Then he targeted state Senator John Hoffman and his wife Hoffman, and his wife luckily survived and remained hospitalized. When the police found his abandoned car, they also found the list 70 names, judges, lawmakers, officials. He was a domestic terrorist, radicalized armed. Intent on killing while millions peacefully defended democracy in the daylight, he tried to assassinate it in the dark, and the juxtaposition is chilling because if you wanna understand what this country is up against, you don't need an op-ed or a think tank report. You need only look at that day, the chance of freedom. In one moment, the actions of hate in another. It's the dual truth of where we are now. An era where democracy and authoritarianism are colliding in real time. And the battle is no longer theoretical. It's in our streets. It's in our homes, it's in our politics, and the aftermath of the Minnesota murders. There was grief, there was outrage. Minnesota Governor, Tim Waltz called it what? It was, an attack on democracy, democratic and Republican lawmakers in the state joined in mourning and condemnation. They spoke with urgency, with emotion, with the clarity of the moment required. But from the Trump circle, nothing. No acknowledgement, no condemnation, no empathy, and from others on the far right, worse than silence, Utah Senator Mike Lee, who once wrapped himself in the cloak of Con the Constitution, mocked the entire tragedy on social media. He tweeted, quote, they're calling an attack on democracy. Please. It's a mental health issue, not a political statement. And then came the follow up. The real threat democracy is weaponized, sympathy, spare some melodrama, but it didn't stop there. Just one day after two elected officials were murdered in their homes. Mike Lee posted again this time, a tweet that said Nightmare on Walt Street. Absorb that for a second. That's not a parody. That's not satire. That's a sitting US senator using a slasher movie reference to taunt a governor whose colleagues have just been assassinated. Let that sink in. This isn't just in decency, it's complicity. When people in power respond to political violence with cynicism, they are sending a clear message, not just to their base, but to the perpetrators. They are saying, this is not serious. This is not unacceptable. This is something we can spin, dismiss, or joke about. And when they do that, they create more killers. They create more lists, more targets. Mike Lee didn't pull the trigger, but he gave cover to the movement that radicalized the man who did. And Donald Trump, he didn't have to say anything at all because his silence is the statement that the life of a democratic lawmaker isn't worth a tweet. That the democratic institutions under attack don't matter unless he's the one being attacked. This is what authoritarian culture looks like. A place where empathy is weakness, where violence is tolerated, where loyalty is demanded and dissent is mocked. But here's the thing, they miscalculated because even in the face of that silence. That mockery, that violence. No King's Day didn't fade. It strengthened because millions of Americans understood that the murders didn't undermine the protests. They proved them necessary. They proved that democracy really is under attack, not just from bullets, but from those who laugh when the shooting starts, they prove that this isn't just about one man or one party, it's about what kind of country we are willing to become. And that's why no King's Day can't just be a one time event. It has to become a movement, a tradition, a civic awakening. Already plans are in place to make June 14th, the day of reflection and resistance every year. Not to mark Trump's birthday, but to counter it, to drown it out, to turn a symbol of authoritarian ego into a national recommitment to the public. Imagine that a day where classrooms teach the meaning of democracy. Where town halls hold forums on civic duty where communities gather not to wave flags in submission, but to raise their voices in solidarity a day that reminds us that power flows from the people, not over them. Because democracy is something we build day by day, law by law, vote by vote. It's not flashy, it's not always thrilling, but it is sacred. And when we stop treating it that way. We get parades, retirements, and funerals for legislators. We get laughter from senators and silence from strong men. So here's the truth, we have a choice right now, not in November of 2026, not in some distant future today, do we normalize what happened in Minnesota or do we rise to meeting? Do we shrug in military parades and snide tweets, or do we reclaim the soul of this country? Do we let violence speak louder than the people, or do we organize, speak, vote, and refuse to be silenced? No. Kings Day gave us a glimpse of the country. We still could be not a perfect country, but a principled one. Not a flawless republic, but a fighting one. A country where dis dissent dishonored, not hunted, where power is borrowed, not seized. Where services revered, not ridiculed. A country that says, without apology, we are not ruled. So what Now? We stay engaged. We reject the cynicism. We name the threats. We defend the institutions. We protect one another. We mobilize. We carry the names of Melissa Hortman in the Hoffman's in our hearts, we remember that behind every assassination is a legacy that deserves to be defended. We remember the democracy is not a backdrop, it's a lifeline. And we remember this above all. We don't have kings. Thank you for listening to America's Fractured Politics. If this episode resonated with you, share it, talk about it, act on it. Democracy won't survive on its own, but with enough of his standing up, it won't have to. Until next time, I'm Mark Mansour. Thank you for listening.