This is just me getting something down.
Today I was reading Heather Delaney Reese on what happened in Chicago and the parallels to 1930s Germany. There was a big immigration raid—people dragged from their homes, some handcuffed, some without clothes. I don’t care how anyone feels about immigration: there is no justification for a raid carried out like that. It’s state power used to humiliate and terrify families. I can hear the counterargument—“we have to do something about immigration”—but not like that. Not with tactics that sweep up citizens and traumatize kids in the middle of the night. For context, reporting from WBEZ and the Chicago Sun-Times described 37 arrests and residents alleging people were pulled out while unclothed.
Who I’m reading right now
I’ve been following Heather Delaney Reese, whose daily Substack is opinion-forward but grounded in sourcing, and historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose Letters from an American lays out the history behind the news. Reese’s post this week is what made me look hard at how people around me are reacting; Richardson’s write-up of the Chicago raid added the deeper historical frame.
Why history keeps ringing in my ears
I’ve always loved history, especially the World War II era. Like a lot of people, I used to ask: how could Germans allow what happened to the Jews? Some context is real: the Treaty of Versailles (1919) imposed heavy reparations; hyperinflation wrecked daily life in the early 1920s; then the Great Depression hit. The United States never ratified Versailles and made a separate peace. Later, the Dawes Plan (1924) and Young Plan (1929) tried to restructure payments because the original terms were unworkable (see the U.S. State Dept.’s primer on Dawes/Young and the USHMM overview of the Weimar Republic). None of that excuses what came next—but it helps explain how a battered society became ripe for scapegoating and for a leader who promised to punish the “enemy within.”
We are not Weimar—and yet the anger is here
Here’s what gnaws at me: we are not Weimar Germany. Our economy has had ups and downs, but nothing like that collapse. So why so much rage? Is it white grievance as others finally gain ground? Is it fear of disabled people, LGBTQ people, and immigrants claiming the dignity and access they’re owed? Is it corporate power, social media outrage, or all of the above? I don’t have a single neat answer. I do know this: some people would rather punish their neighbors than solve problems.
I’ve seen it up close. During Trump’s first term, two family members told me he was “helping white Americans” who were tired of having things “taken away.” I said: he’s not the president of white people; he’s supposed to be the president of everyone. Silence. That’s the quiet part, isn’t it? Some folks are fine with government muscle if it lands on the “right” necks.
What the research says about the anger
I wanted to understand the heat behind this moment, so I looked at what social scientists have actually found. A few patterns keep showing up:
Status threat: People get angrier when they feel their group is losing standing or being pushed aside. That “we’re being displaced” feeling fuels grievance more than pocketbook pain alone (PNAS study).
Relative deprivation & economic shocks: Real or perceived loss—jobs, status, stability—drives resentment, even when the overall economy isn’t collapsing (research review).
Affective polarization: We’ve slid from “I disagree with them” to “they’re bad people.” That moralized dislike makes cruelty toward the out-group easier to accept (Annual Review synthesis).
Outrage amplification online: Social platforms reward high-arousal emotions, so moral outrage gets amplified and over-perceived (Science Advances study).
How people actually feel: Surveys show majorities say they feel exhausted and angry when they think about politics—so the mood you’re sensing isn’t imaginary (Pew).
None of this excuses cruelty. It explains the tinder. Leaders can either douse it—or throw matches.
The Chicago raids, and a familiar logic
What’s happening in Chicago looks like a choice to normalize cruelty. A huge overnight raid at a South Shore apartment building led to dozens of arrests and a building full of wrecked doors and scattered belongings. Residents and witnesses described kids and adults zip-tied, some unclothed, and hauled into trucks (WBEZ reporting). Protests have followed at the ICE facility in Broadview, a long-time processing and transfer hub for the Chicago area (WBEZ coverage). The pattern is clear: scale up capacity, rough people up, and trust the public to look away.
Policy matters: detention buildouts and civil-rights rollbacks
At the policy level, the federal government has moved to expand immigration enforcement capacity while also narrowing civil-rights enforcement tools. A key example: the April 23, 2025 executive order on “Restoring Equality of Opportunity and Meritocracy,” which directs agencies to limit or sideline disparate-impact enforcement and focus instead on intentional discrimination (WhiteHouse.gov; a plain-English explainer here). For readers asking “what’s Project 2025?”, a helpful primer is the ACLU’s overview: Project 2025, explained.
If we rip out the tools that force schools, agencies, and workplaces to fix barriers before they harm people, who pays first? Disabled families. Immigrants. LGBTQ kids. Anyone who doesn’t fit the default template. If you cheer that on, don’t say later you “didn’t know” it would land on your own family.
If you’re not sure what to do
Three realistic steps: learn (seek out reporting and rights info), link up (local legal-aid and immigrant advocacy groups), and show up (calls, letters, court-watch, voting). Small acts matter—especially before bad habits harden into policy.
A short faith note
I’m a Christian, and for me, refusing cruelty isn’t optional. Scripture keeps circling the same command: do justice, love mercy, walk humbly; welcome the stranger; love your neighbor; recognize the image of God in every person. That doesn’t make policy simple—but it does make the line bright. Raids that humiliate families, rhetoric that targets whole groups, and policies that strip away protections land on the very people Jesus told us not to overlook. My faith doesn’t let me look away.
Crossroads, not doom
No, I don’t think we’re doomed. I think we’re at a crossroads. We still have institutions that push back. We still have courts that sometimes say “no.” We still have the ability to speak, organize, show up, vote, sue, and protect our neighbors. But we won’t have that forever if we keep shrugging at lines being crossed.
So here’s my line: roundups that humiliate people in their own homes are wrong. Detention as default is wrong. Threatening judges and firing civil servants for doing their jobs is wrong. Project 2025’s vision of stripping rights and dismantling civil-rights enforcement is wrong. We don’t need to become 1930s Germany for the warning lights to matter. The lesson from that history isn’t “it’s identical or it’s nothing.” The lesson is: dehumanization starts small, wins a few shrugs, and then it owns the room.
We can still say no. We can still be the kind of neighbors who refuse cruelty in our name. And as long as we can, we should.
Notes from the edge of the system 