Megyn Kelly Tells Glenn How 7th Grade Bullies Prepared Her to Handle Trump

Megyn Kelly, host of The Kelly File on Fox News and author or the new book Settle for More, joined Glenn on radio today for an enlightening conversation about her all-American values and how she views adversity as an opportunity.

"It's a pretty incredible story," Glenn said.

In particular, Megyn told Glenn about an experience in 7th grade that both scarred and shaped her.

"You can learn a lot about life in the seventh grade," Megyn said.

Read below or watch the clip for answers to these questions:

• How did a group of 7th grade girls make Megyn Kelly feel loneliness and deep sadness?

• What dawned on her about Trump's relentless attacks?

• Why did Megyn Kelly called Glenn "a gentleman throughout?"

• What torrent of threats were unleashed after the now infamous debate question?

• What's Megyn Kelly's blueprint for beating bullies?

Below is a rush transcript of this segment, it might contain errors:

GLENN: Welcome to the program, Megyn Kelly. How are you, Megyn?

MEGYN: Hi, Glenn, it's great to be here.

GLENN: Thank you. Shoot. We have a horrible connection. Can we play with that as we talk?

Megyn, I haven't read your book yet. Just came out yesterday. Just got it actually this morning. Have thumbed through it. Have read some excerpts from it. It's a pretty incredible story. And you're ruffling some feathers right now in several areas.

Can we start with Donald Trump? And tell me if I have this story right -- and this is what you wrote in the book or not.

MEGYN: Okay.

GLENN: The Donald Trump story, if I may share a story -- I was on your show one day when you were in lockdown, may I go farther than this? Do you remember this?

MEGYN: Keep going.

GLENN: Okay. And you were having significant security issues.

MEGYN: Yes.

GLENN: And real death threats. Your family was under attack. And you had never seen anything about it. And I was I think maybe in Iowa or Nebraska. And I was waiting for you to come into the studio. You were about an hour late. And we had a conversation, and it was a quite frightening time in your life.

MEGYN: Uh-huh.

GLENN: Do you want to talk about that at all?

MEGYN: Well, I mean -- look, let me just start with this. This book, Settle for More, is about my life and my values, which I think are not just mine, but American values -- at least, used to be. Right? I don't know about today's day and age and these kids.

But one of the things that you see throughout the book is that I think adversity is an opportunity to grow and become stronger. And I can certainly say that my year of Trump, as I describe it in the book, has done that for me.

And it has been a difficult year in many ways. I mean, in particular, the security scares were bad. And clearly unacceptable. No journalist should have to go through that just to cover a candidate.

GLENN: Nobody should.

MEGYN: But I dealt with it. And I think I actually now have a bit of a blueprint for others in how to deal with it. And I hope when people close this book, they will understand that, you know, I think you can grow if hard times come your way. And it's an opportunity to evolve. And as far as Trump and I go, I think we're in a better place now.

GLENN: May I pursue this because of what was printed in the New York Times of what you wrote. And, again, I'm sorry. I have not read the book. I just got it this morning.

MEGYN: Stan Burgos (phonetic).

GLENN: Yeah. I know.

The New York Times spun this as what you were saying in the book was you knew no one was going to come to your rescue, no one was standing by you. I don't necessarily want to get into this, but I have been shocked and horrified at the way you have been treated by several people. And no one stood by you. But you -- the New York Times made it seem that no one was going to stand up for you, and so you had to solve it. And basically, the way I read it from the Times is you had to go kiss his ring and make it go away and make it stop.

MEGYN: So that's not exactly right. I did have people stand up for me. And just so your listeners know, you were one of them. And this is, I'm sure, knowing you, not something you talk about, but just so everybody knows, Glenn would write me the kindest, most supportive, uplifting messages in the darkest days that offered to help and offered to do anything he could. And expressed, of course, genuine concern. And just, you were such a gentleman throughout, Glenn, and I just want to make a record of that to people.

GLENN: Thank you, Megyn.

MEGYN: But what had happened with Trump was he was relentless. You know, he just couldn't let it go. And the book documents how in the initial days after that August debate, I understood he was angry. And I -- I understood why. It was definitely a tough question for him. I don't regret it, but he was new to the game. All these other guys were seasoned politicians, and he's up there like, "Hey, I'm here to get you ratings," and then it's all of a sudden a punch of the face. And he's like, "What the hell is that?" Right?

So I understood his initial anger. But I didn't really understand how he couldn't let it go.

My point is, Roger Ailes did try to stand Trump down many times, but he was unsuccessful. And Sean Hannity, who is tight with Trump, tried to stand Trump down many times, but he was unsuccessful. Hannity was successful in getting some more talk radio guys sort of, you know, not gin up so much hatred at a time when I was under serious threat and I was, you know, having to live my life with bodyguards, which is not how a journalist normally lives or should have to live.

And so I did have some support. But it just wasn't working. You know, it was like, they were trying, but it wasn't working.

And after nine months of it, Glenn -- and the book sort of documents how just every time I would think it was over, it wasn't over. And I'm not just talking about nasty tweets. We've all been subjected to that. I'm a big girl. I can take that. It was the torrent of nastiness that those would unleash in my life and of threats, I mean, real security threats. And people coming to my home, and on my doorstep threatening and screaming obscenities at me on the street in front of my children. And not being able to go anywhere without an armed guard, including Disney World. I mean, it's just like, what the hell is going on here because of a debate question?

So in April, if memory serves, of 2016, it dawned on me that Trump was never going to let this go. That he was enjoying the story line and that, that meant it would be up to me to write an ending to it. And I knew if I could in front of him, he would stop.

And there was no apology. I mean, I wasn't -- he wanted an apology from me for my debate question. That wasn't happening. I didn't want an apology from him. But we had always had a good relationship. So I knew if I could get in there, sit down with him and just talk, we would be okay and he would stop. And that's what happened.

GLENN: There is a theme that is going on in the country today, and it's whether or not -- you know, we for years have been told for years to stop bullying. And what that meant in the past was, "No, kids, you cannot play dodgeball anymore because you might get hit in the face." There's a difference between the bullying that has been -- you know, that the left has been saying has happened and real bullying.

MEGYN: Uh-huh.

GLENN: And you have -- have seen your share of it, as, you know, the bullying that was happening with Donald Trump, the bullying that was happening with Roger Ailes. And it seems as though the country doesn't necessarily care all that much on either side. Is that right? Is that how you're feeling?

MEGYN: Well, first of all, I know that you have experienced this yourself because there's just something about the way some of Trump's supporters marched to the beat of his drum, that whenever he sends out a negative message about somebody, it really does wreak havoc in that person's life. And I haven't seen a lot of people talk about it.

Erick Erickson has written about it. You know, he got some just terrible death threats to his family. And I know you've been subjected to some of that too, just for being a Trump critic. Which is -- this is America. We have dissenting points of view. We as journalists are supposed to be skeptical in our coverage.

But, yes, I do draw a distinction though between bullying, which my book, Settle for More, talks all about. I have had real experience with. I had a brutal seventh grade year, in which my group of friends all turned against me. And I was in tears for much of the year and very, very alone with no friends. And it was hard. You know, this was 1983 when you didn't have helicopter parents intervening at every turn. But it does teach you a thing or too

GLENN: Why did they turn against you at seventh --

MEGYN: Who the hell knows?

GLENN: Why was that an important story to tell?

MEGYN: Well, first of all, who knows, right? These are 12-year-old girls who are just -- who can be the meanest some B's you ever -- terrible.

(chuckling)

GLENN: I have to tell you, I have found that women -- some of the meanest tweets, some of the meanest Facebook posts, and some of the meanest emails I've received, I'll read them and say, "This guy is out of control." And it will be signed by a woman.

(laughter)

GLENN: I mean, women are nasty at times.

MEGYN: Yeah. We can give as good as we get.

GLENN: Ooh. And then some.

MEGYN: And, you know, it all begins in the seventh grade, Glenn. You can learn a lot about life in the seventh grade.

You know, in the book, I tell this story about -- take a step back on the bullying. But in the book, I tell the story about how it culminated in -- because I used to be popular. And then suddenly one day, this group, they just turned on me, and I had no friends.

And they would, you know, flick the spitballs at me and try to trip me in the hall. I used to be overweight. I used to have bad skin. They would make fun of every vulnerability.

JEFFY: Me too.

GLENN: Wow. Boy, must be fun --

MEGYN: One day I was at home. It was a Saturday night. The most popular girl was having a big party, and I was home alone with my parents.

And my phone rang. I said, "Hello." And she said, "You know, it's me." She said, "Do you know where all the people are from my party?" And I said, "No." And they all screamed into the phone, "We're here."

GLENN: Oh, my gosh.

MEGYN: And they hung up. I hung up the phone in front of my parents who didn't know what had just happened. I lied and told them it was a wrong number.

And I went out in my backyard, which had iced over. This is upstate New York, Albany, suburb. And there was snow on the ground that had iced over. And my sneakers -- I went out there, Glenn. I put my hands in my pockets, and I sort of skated across the ice in the darkness, with tears streaming down my face. And I can remember it to this day, you know, just that feeling of ostracization and loneliness and just deep sadness and the desire to connect and feel like you belong. And so, you know, those scars they take a long time to heal.

And the truth is, it took me some 20 years before I had even realized what they had done to me, what that year had done to me as a person. So I do take bullying very seriously.

And when Donald Trump began to act up -- again, in the initial phases, it's like, "Okay. It's a politician that's unhappy with me. I'm experienced in that." But when it was so relentless -- I knew I was not going to submit. You know, actual bullying is intimidation designed to get a certain effect, you know, to have a certain effect.

GLENN: Yeah.

MEGYN: They're looking for compliance, right? To -- to cow you.

And Donald Trump never managed to do that with me. I -- I covered him without fear of favor, every day of that campaign. And so I feel like it was an attempt at bullying, but not an actual bullying, right? Because there was no submission.

But I will say this, when I came out of the bullying, and over the years in thinking about it, I did realize that in dealing with the bully in general, the best course is to send the bully a message that he's nothing to you, right? That there's a good me when you raise a child, the bad me. If you don't pay positive attention to your child, he'll act out badly. And if you don't pay attention to that, the worst thing that you could do to a child is send them the not me message. And I think when you're dealing with a bully, the not me message is the best message you can send. And I think it really irritated Donald Trump over the months that I would not respond to him. But I think that's a proven course for how to handle, as an adult, someone who is trying to push you around.

GLENN: Megyn, I have talked to several people who have expressed the feeling of, "This is not the ending." And it has nothing to do with Donald Trump. It has everything to do with the way our society is going. And the economy and world affairs, if we don't turn a corner here.

MEGYN: Uh-huh.

GLENN: And the people who are saying, "I want to stand, but it's lonely. It is really, really lonely. And I don't know if I can do it."

MEGYN: Uh-huh.

GLENN: What have you learned from truly standing almost alone, or you had to have felt pretty alone even though you did have some people back -- I'm glad to hear that some of the Fox people were backing you behind the scenes?

MEGYN: Well, I don't define myself by applicant or this job or just my identity as a news anchor. And that's been key to everything for me. And, you know, in this book, you know, I talk about what -- what -- a piece of advice that was given to me long ago by one of my first law bosses, when I was practicing law, which was, "In times of trouble, remember who you are."

And what does that mean?

It means, what defines you? You know, who are you? Am I Megyn Kelly news anchor? Well, that's something I do, but it's not who I am.

You know, I'm -- I'm a woman. I'm a person, a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. You know, those are the things when I think about who I am, I think about those people who made me those things. And the influence they've had in my life. And the times we've shared together and the laughter and the tears. And those are the things that are important to me. And that if I ever were, God forbid, to lose would change who I am, you know, would deeply affect me in ways I couldn't change back, not not this job, not, you know, who is even in the Oval Office, Glenn.

And I think that people should hold on to that, because they can try to bully you. They can say mean things about you. But they can't change your soul unless you let them.

And for me, I feel like, you hold on to your integrity, you hold on to your ethics and who you are, which, of course, is what you do behind closed doors when no one is looking. And you hold on to what you hold most dear in this world. And those things don't tend to change. And they certainly aren't dictated by the internet or anything anybody says in a public forum. And you'll be good. You know, just keep redirecting yourself to that stuff, remembering who you are, and you'll be good.

GLENN: The name of the book is Settle for More by Megyn Kelly. It is out today. Megyn, I would like to read the back and then when things slow down for you, I would like to have you back and talk a little more because I think you are one of the more fascinating people in the media today and somebody who actually really tries to be fair and to get it right. And I appreciate that.

MEGYN: Thanks, Glenn.

GLENN: Megyn, thank you. We'll talk to you again. Settle for More is the name of the book by Megyn Kelly. Back in just a second.

Featured Image: FOX news host Megyn Kelly looks on during the Republican Presidential debate sponsored by Fox News at the Iowa Events Center in Des Moines, Iowa on January 28, 2016. (Photo Credit: JIM WATSON/AFP/Getty Images)

A Sharia enclave is quietly taking root in America. It's time to wake up.

NOVA SAFO / Staff | Getty Images

Sharia-based projects like the Meadow in Texas show how political Islam grows quietly, counting on Americans to stay silent while an incompatible legal system takes root.

Apolitical system completely incompatible with the Constitution is gaining ground in the United States, and we are pretending it is not happening.

Sharia — the legal and political framework of Islam — is being woven into developments, institutions, and neighborhoods, including a massive project in Texas. And the consequences will be enormous if we continue to look the other way.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

Before we can have an honest debate, we’d better understand what Sharia represents. Sharia is not simply a set of religious rules about prayer or diet. It is a comprehensive legal and political structure that governs marriage, finance, criminal penalties, and civic life. It is a parallel system that claims supremacy wherever it takes hold.

This is where the distinction matters. Many Muslims in America want nothing to do with Sharia governance. They came here precisely because they lived under it. But political Islam — the movement that seeks to implement Sharia as law — is not the same as personal religious belief.

It is a political ideology with global ambitions, much like communism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently warned that Islamist movements do not seek peaceful coexistence with the West. They seek dominance. History backs him up.

How Sharia arrives

Political Islam does not begin with dramatic declarations. It starts quietly, through enclaves that operate by their own rules. That is why the development once called EPIC City — now rebranded as the Meadow — is so concerning. Early plans framed it as a Muslim-only community built around a mega-mosque and governed by Sharia-compliant financing. After state investigations were conducted, the branding changed, but the underlying intent remained the same.

Developers have openly described practices designed to keep non-Muslims out, using fees and ownership structures to create de facto religious exclusivity. This is not assimilation. It is the construction of a parallel society within a constitutional republic.

The warning from those who have lived under it

Years ago, local imams in Texas told me, without hesitation, that certain Sharia punishments “just work.” They spoke about cutting off hands for theft, stoning adulterers, and maintaining separate standards of testimony for men and women. They insisted it was logical and effective while insisting they would never attempt to implement it in Texas.

But when pressed, they could not explain why a system they consider divinely mandated would suddenly stop applying once someone crossed a border.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

AASHISH KIPHAYET / Contributor | Getty Images

America is vulnerable

Europe is already showing us where this road leads. No-go zones, parallel courts, political intimidation, and clerics preaching supremacy have taken root across major cities.

America’s strength has always come from its melting pot, but assimilation requires boundaries. It requires insisting that the Constitution, not religious law, is the supreme authority on this soil.

Yet we are becoming complacent, even fearful, about saying so. We mistake silence for tolerance. We mistake avoidance for fairness. Meanwhile, political Islam views this hesitation as weakness.

Religious freedom is one of America’s greatest gifts. Muslims may worship freely here, as they should. But political Islam must not be permitted to plant a flag on American soil. The Constitution cannot coexist with a system that denies equal rights, restricts speech, subordinates women, and places clerical authority above civil law.

Wake up before it is too late

Projects like the Meadow are not isolated. They are test runs, footholds, proofs of concept. Political Islam operates with patience. It advances through demographic growth, legal ambiguity, and cultural hesitation — and it counts on Americans being too polite, too distracted, or too afraid to confront it.

We cannot afford that luxury. If we fail to defend the principles that make this country free, we will one day find ourselves asking how a parallel system gained power right in front of us. The answer will be simple: We looked away.

The time to draw boundaries and to speak honestly is now. The time to defend the Constitution as the supreme law of the land is now. Act while there is still time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The Crisis of Meaning: Searching for truth and purpose

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The Bubba Effect erupts as America’s power brokers go rogue

Gary Hershorn / Contributor | Getty Images

When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Grim warning: Bad-faith Israel critics duck REAL questions

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.