On June 6, we marked the 79th anniversary of D-Day, when American and Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy at a turning point in World War II. The success of that mission under General Dwight Eisenhower and the commander in chief, President Franklin Roosevelt, depended on total secrecy until the moment of launch. Reams have been written about the extreme measures commanders used to keep it under wraps; it’s chilling to imagine the tension that surrounded the concern about leaks.
Now imagine this: Roosevelt is kicking back in his private office at his estate in Hyde Park sometime in 1944. He has friends, donors and maybe a writer or two coming and going. He’s waving classified battle plans around in the air, bragging to visitors about having them at his home — even teasing them with a peek. Sounds unimaginable, right? No American president would endanger American troops’ lives in that way.
But that’s essentially what Donald Trump allegedly did, according to the federal indictment unsealed just two days after this year’s D-Day anniversary. Worse, he reportedly did it well after he left office, so any privileged presidential access he may have had to classified documents had long expired.
We need to let that sink in. Because while pundits are busy parsing the political and legal ramifications of the federal indictment of Trump, we risk losing sight of just how profound the betrayal at the heart of this matter really is. This is not a victimless crime; far from it.
According to the indictment, the agencies whose secrecy was breached include the CIA, the Departments of Defense and State and the National Security Agency. Right now, it seems likely that information about our defense capabilities, possibly our nuclear capabilities, our allies’ and enemies’ capabilities, human intelligence sources and more was being used by Trump to show off (when it wasn’t sitting in a shower stall).
The people whose lives may have been put at risk are our most selfless patriots. They are soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and people in the intelligence community who put their lives on the line, endure long deployments away from family, suffer hardship and, above all, keep the secrets they are entrusted with.
Trump is alleged to have put all of them at risk. And for what? There are a couple of theories as to why he might have wanted these documents and why he tried so hard to hide them from investigators: He wanted to leverage them for financial or political gain, or he wanted to possess them out of sheer vanity. Either motive is inexcusable.
Right now, Republicans are taking part in some of the most energetic what-aboutism we’ve ever seen as they try to defend Trump. They claim that Hillary Clinton, who cooperated with investigations of her emails and server and was not charged, should have been prosecuted. They say the Justice Department should prosecute President Joe Biden, who immediately returned classified documents that ended up in his personal papers (as did former Vice President Mike Pence).
Those arguments should be rejected, along with the complaints that only “banana republics” prosecute their former leaders. First, it’s not true: Scotland’s former First Minister Nicola Sturgeon was just arrested in an investigation of financial wrongdoing. Second, mature democracies rest on the principle that no one is above the law; democracy will hold when those currently in power behave responsibly and prosecutions are for genuine crimes.
And all these arguments are offensive. The party Trump represents has wrapped itself in the flag many times over the years as it accused opponents of being un-American. Its defense of Trump now in an alleged crime that is the essence of un-American behavior needs to be called out; anything less is unacceptable.
We don’t know how the latest indictment will affect the 2024 elections. We don’t know if Trump’s polling numbers will go up or down. But this much is clear: What he is accused of doing is as deep and depraved a betrayal of the American people as we have ever seen. It’s a morally bankrupt act that could only be committed by a person with no conscience or moral compass, a person who should never, ever hold the reins of power again.
Svante Myrick is president of People For the American Way. Previously, he served as executive director of People For and led campaigns focused on transforming public safety, racial equity, voting rights and empowering young elected officials.