Over the past month, the United States has witnessed a dramatic escalation in the use of military and federal forces for domestic law enforcement, particularly under the direction of President Donald Trump. From the deployment of the National Guard in Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles, to the threat of federal troops in Chicago and the creation of a multiagency federal task force for Memphis, the Trump administration’s approach has sparked alarm among civil rights advocates, local leaders, and historians alike.
According to The Conversation, Trump’s second term has been marked by the deployment of U.S. military forces in roles rarely seen in American cities. In Los Angeles, military troops were sent to counter protests over immigration raids, while in Washington, D.C., the National Guard was ordered to patrol the streets after Trump declared—falsely, critics say—that crime in the capital was “out of control.” These moves, justified by claims of public safety emergencies, have raised fundamental concerns about the militarization of law enforcement and the politicization of the armed forces.
Legal scholars point to the Posse Comitatus Act, a cornerstone of American law that prohibits the use of federal military forces in domestic law enforcement. The risk, they argue, is twofold: troops trained for warfare may use excessive force against civilians, and the constitutional principle that limits state power against its citizens is undermined. “Militarizing law enforcement risks using excessive force against civilians by troops trained for warfare. And it undermines a constitutional principle, enshrined in the Bill of Rights, that limits the coercive power of the state against its citizens,” The Conversation reported.
But perhaps more worrying, some experts warn, is the potential erosion of public trust in the military itself. By associating the armed forces with partisan politics, the Trump administration may be politicizing an institution traditionally seen as above the fray. This, observers say, is uncharted territory for the U.S.—but not for other countries. The Conversation draws direct historical parallels to Chile and Argentina in the 1970s, where civilian leaders, unable to resolve economic and civil unrest, encouraged military intervention. The result: democratic breakdown and the rise of military dictatorships.
The Trump administration’s playbook, critics argue, mirrors tactics from those troubled times. The first tactic is priming the public to focus on exaggerated threats. In Los Angeles, federal officials touted the arrest of the “Worst of the Worst Criminal Illegal Aliens,” setting the stage for military intervention. In D.C., the administration declared a “crime emergency” so dire it justified the deployment of the National Guard, opening the door for similar actions in other cities. “Priming the public this way establishes a danger so great that ordinary—civilian—resources are an insufficient response. Military resources become the solution,” The Conversation noted.
The second tactic involves placing military forces in prominent backup roles for nonmilitary personnel. In Los Angeles, Marines were tasked with protecting federal immigration agents. The lines blurred quickly; in one case, Marines detained a civilian who entered an unauthorized zone—an action that, by law, should be handled by local law enforcement. These collaborations have extended across the country: at least 19 states have authorized National Guard deployments to work with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in targeting illegal immigration as of 2025.
ICE’s methods—masked agents, arrests without court warrants—have drawn comparisons to the Gestapo, as The Conversation highlighted. The worry is that military personnel, through collaboration with ICE, may absorb enforcement practices that erode their own professionalism. The Argentine experience looms large: before the 1976 coup, the military’s collaboration with paramilitary groups led to the adoption of death squad tactics, enforced disappearances, and clandestine murders once the military took power.
The third and perhaps most insidious tactic is the political purging of military personnel accused of being “woke.” Firings initially targeted high-ranking officers, but any perceived political misstep—such as contradicting the president—could be grounds for removal. “The Trump administration seeks to eradicate wokeness from the military,” The Conversation reported, warning that this could erode norms of merit-based promotion and professional trust within the armed forces.
On the ground, the effects of these policies are being felt most acutely in cities like Chicago. As reported by The TRiiBE, federal agents have ramped up enforcement of immigration and crime plans in Chicago and its suburbs over the past three weeks, including home raids and traffic stops. On September 12, 2025, an unidentified ICE agent shot and killed 38-year-old Silverio Villegas González during a traffic stop in Franklin Park, Illinois—a stark reminder of the real-world consequences of militarized enforcement.
President Trump has repeatedly threatened to send federal troops to Chicago to “get the city’s crime in order.” The fear among local organizers is palpable. “What I think about what militarism is, more or less, it’s the belief system of the military [being used] to solve crises or to quash civil disobedience or civil unrest. Opposed to assessing the issue at hand, we just use the military to solve it,” said Richard Wallace, executive director of Equity and Transformation, to The TRiiBE.
In response, dozens of Black-led faith and community organizations in Chicago have launched a 30-day emergency response program, including Know-Your-Rights training, mental health support, and mutual aid. Organizers emphasize the shared struggles of Latiné and Black communities facing systemic racism and overpolicing. A recent Supreme Court decision allows federal agents to stop anyone they suspect of being in the country illegally, with race as a permissible factor—a policy likened to New York City’s notorious stop-and-frisk program by the ACLU of Wisconsin.
Despite the anxiety, Chicago’s organizing networks and support from Democratic leadership offer hope. Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker has encouraged residents to resist peacefully and document interactions with ICE agents. Mayor Brandon Johnson and Attorney General Kwame Raoul have indicated readiness to challenge federal troop deployments in court. “Chicago is well-positioned to take up that fight and to lead that struggle,” said KB, an organizer with DC Alliance Against Racist and Political Repression, in The TRiiBE.
But the consequences of militarization are not just theoretical. According to The TRiiBE, the National Guard mobilization and increased federal agents in D.C. have led to hundreds of arrests, overcrowded jails, and an overwhelmed court system. “They’re being arrested on offenses that are fines or citations… It’s really been disproportionately affecting the Black and immigrant working-class communities in D.C.,” said KB.
For many, the path forward is clear: community solidarity, legal empowerment, and political education. “Authoritarianism wins if people don’t fight back and speak up,” said Michelle Garcia, ACLU of Illinois deputy legal director. Organizers urge residents to know their rights, support vulnerable neighbors, and document law enforcement actions. The stakes, they say, could not be higher.
The Trump administration’s tactics may not guarantee democratic breakdown, but the risks of normalizing military involvement in domestic affairs are real and sobering. The lessons of Chile and Argentina serve as a stark warning: restoring democracy after military overreach is a long, painful road. The United States, many believe, cannot afford to take that path.
