Then we have the September 27th update, which feels like a preparation for something bigger. Why would the DoD suddenly need clearer guidelines on using force, particularly in response to civil unrest? Are they expecting something? Preparing for the unthinkable—like a coup or large-scale insurrection? This update suggests a shift towards readiness, a proactive stance, where military intervention could very well become a tool in maintaining “order.” And that sounds a lot like the prelude to government overreach.
It’s not just about enforcing the law; it’s about setting up a system that can quickly transition to military action. We’re not talking about disaster relief or a one-off situation. This Directive reads like a playbook for long-term domestic military engagement. So as we consider the implications of Directive 5240.01, we should remember that laws are only as good as the people enforcing them—and the power they’re given. If we start seeing the military on U.S. soil, positioned to “restore order” or confront “civil disturbances,” we might want to ask: Where does it end? And at what point do we stop being civilians in a democracy and start becoming citizens in a security state?
Use of Force: Lessons from the Past
When we talk about using the military for domestic issues, we’re talking about a serious step—one that often comes with unintended consequences. The term “civil disturbance” sounds tame, almost clinical, but its history in America is anything but. And when military force has been used to manage these situations, it hasn’t always gone well.
Consider Kent State University in 1970. It was a time of heavy anti-war protests across the country, with young people taking to the streets to challenge U.S. involvement in Vietnam. On May 4, Ohio National Guard troops were called in to quell a protest. There was no real plan—just a directive to maintain order. But somewhere in that chaotic mix of protestors, tear gas, and confusion, guardsmen fired on the unarmed students. Four young Americans were killed, nine others wounded, in a tragic escalation of force. This wasn’t an attack on the enemy—it was an attack on American citizens exercising their rights. Kent State became a symbol of what can go wrong when the military’s tools are used in civilian settings, a haunting reminder that lethal force should be the very last resort.
This wasn’t the first, and certainly not the last, time force was used in response to civil unrest. Take the 1967 Detroit riots, part of what came to be known as the “Long, Hot Summer” of riots in over 150 American cities. When state and federal troops were deployed, Detroit looked more like a war zone than an American city. Buildings burned, tanks rolled down streets, and there were 43 deaths, many of them civilians caught in the crossfire. These were citizens who, while reacting to systemic inequalities, found themselves under military control in their own neighborhoods.