Let me begin with a clear disclaimer: I do not speak for the NAACP. I speak only for myself—as a scholar, citizen, and patriot committed to constitutional democracy and civil rights. But I unequivocally support the NAACP’s decision not to invite Donald Trump to its 116th National Convention.

The organization’s stance is not partisan. It is principled. And in this moment, principles are everything.

The NAACP Statement: A Line in the Sand

In a powerful and unapologetic public statement, NAACP President and CEO Derrick Johnson explained the organization’s unprecedented decision. His words cut through the usual political posturing:

“Donald Trump is attacking our democracy and our civil rights. He believes more in the fascist playbook than the U.S. Constitution.”

That sentence should be printed in bold on every front page in America.

The NAACP has, for over a century, extended invitations to sitting presidents—regardless of political party—as a symbol of dialogue, respect for the office, and the pursuit of justice through engagement. Even presidents with whom the NAACP deeply disagreed were given the opportunity to speak to its members.

But this moment is different. Trump’s presidency—especially in its second term—has not been about governance. It has been about authoritarian consolidation of power, the dismantling of democratic safeguards, and the normalization of state-sanctioned violence against marginalized communities and political opponents.

To invite Trump would be to endorse, or at the very least legitimize, this behavior.

The NAACP said no.

That refusal is more than symbolic—it is a statement of resistance, of clarity, of moral courage.

And in 2025, that kind of leadership is rare.

“Day One” Was a Lie—And the NAACP Knows It

In my June 14th piece on Cloaking Inequity, I wrote that Trump’s “peace on Day One” promise was a lie—a calculated manipulation designed to seduce voters craving order, even if that order came at the expense of liberty. He promised to end wars, bring calm, restore strength.

Instead, we have seen the resumption of bombing campaigns in Gaza, the intentional erosion of aid to Ukraine, and war with Iran. Here at home, the situation is even more chilling: targeted political assassinations, ICE raids on schools and public spaces, escalating rhetoric from law enforcement that borders on extrajudicial threats.

Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband are dead—gunned down in their home by an attacker posing as a police officer. Senator John Hoffman and his wife barely survived a separate ambush. These were coordinated acts of political violence, not random outbursts.

This is what authoritarianism looks like in the United States. And this is the exact threat the NAACP was founded to fight.

That’s why the NAACP’s rejection of Trump is not just justifiable—it’s necessary.

History Remembers the Silence—and the Stand

There are those who argue the NAACP should have “stayed neutral,” that “engagement” with Trump would have been the higher road.

That argument is morally bankrupt.

Neutrality in the face of white nationalism is complicity. Engagement with fascism is appeasement. There is no virtue in giving a microphone to a man who has made it clear—again and again—that he intends to use power not to govern, but to dominate.

Trump has celebrated police violence, demonized immigrants and Muslims, gutted civil rights protections, and threatened protestors with military force. His administration’s current strategy—Project 2025—is openly designed to dismantle checks on presidential power, erase federal support for racial equity, and criminalize dissent.

Why should the NAACP—an organization born from resistance to racial terror—hand a microphone to the architect of its modern return?

President Johnson made it clear: “The NAACP stands at the forefront of the battle for the soul of our nation. Our commitment to civil rights and social justice is unwavering. We will not allow our platform to be used to further divide the country or legitimize hatred.”

That’s leadership.

This Is Not Normal. This Is War on Democracy.

Let’s stop softening the language. What we are witnessing in the United States is not “partisan division.” It is political warfare.

From Gaza to Los Angeles, from college campuses to Capitol buildings, the Trump administration and its enablers have declared war on dissent. Protest is criminalized. Faculty are fired. Students surveilled. Journalists blacklisted. Public servants murdered.

Meanwhile, sheriffs like Florida’s Wayne Ivey are issuing statements like this:

“If you throw a brick or firebomb… we will notify your family where to collect your remains—because we will kill you, graveyard dead.”

That’s not law enforcement. That’s state terror. That’s not policing. That’s lynching with a badge.

So when the NAACP draws a line—saying enough is enough—it’s not just brave. It’s essential for our survival.

Liberty Requires Patriots, Not Spectators

Now is not the time for moderation. Now is not the time for polite disagreement.

Now is the time for a firewall of conscience.

If you believe in the Constitution, if you believe in democracy, if you believe that the United States should not resemble Putin’s Russia or Bolsonaro’s Brazil—then you must speak out. You must stand up.

The NAACP has shown us how to do that.

Their refusal to invite Trump is not partisan pettiness—it’s principled resistance to fascism. It’s a modern-day continuation of the legacy of Ida B. Wells, W.E.B. Du Bois, Medgar Evers, and Fannie Lou Hamer.

Let the history books show that in the face of rising tyranny, the NAACP did not waver. And neither should we.

We must organize. We must educate. We must protect one another. And we must be unflinching in our clarity:

Peace was never Trump’s plan. Control is.

But liberty will not be taken quietly—not while patriots still have breath to resist.