ICE Is Not The Enemy. Lawlessness Is.
To treat them as villains is not only dishonest, it’s dangerous.
The opinions expressed here are solely those of the author.
I was raised around people who understood something that feels dangerously out of fashion today: a country is not an idea alone. It is borders, laws, and the resolve to enforce them.
That’s why the recent shooting involving ICE agents isn’t just another tragic headline. It’s a warning.
You don’t have to like ICE. You don’t have to agree with current immigration policy. You don’t even have to support aggressive enforcement. But the moment federal officers become legitimate targets in the public imagination, something foundational has broken.
ICE agents are not politicians. They don’t draft policy, negotiate treaties, or decide which laws exist. They carry out the law as written—law passed by elected officials and upheld by courts. Turning them into villains may score points online, but it carries a real-world cost. People get hurt. Institutions weaken. And eventually, enforcement stops altogether.
We are watching a dangerous inversion of morality. Violence is no longer judged by the act itself, but by whether the victim belongs to an approved category. If the target wears the wrong uniform, outrage turns into justification. Silence turns into complicity.
That is not protest. That is intimidation.
A nation cannot survive if enforcing the law is treated as an act of aggression. Borders become suggestions. Statutes become opinions. And order gives way to whoever is loudest, angriest, or most willing to escalate.
Let’s be honest about something else, too: there is nothing compassionate about chaos. When enforcement collapses, the people who suffer first are not elites arguing on social media. It’s working communities. It’s legal immigrants who played by the rules. It’s border towns, public schools, hospitals, and neighborhoods asked to absorb the consequences while being told not to complain.
You cannot claim to support immigration while undermining the system that makes legal immigration possible. You cannot say you care about human dignity while excusing violence against those tasked with maintaining civic order.
ICE is not perfect. No institution is. Reform is legitimate. Oversight is necessary. But abolishing enforcement in practice—by fear, stigma, or violence—is not reform. It is surrender.
A country unwilling to defend its laws will not remain a country for long. And a society that teaches its citizens to hate the people enforcing those laws should not be surprised when the rule of law itself becomes the casualty.
This isn’t about politics. It’s about whether we still believe that laws mean something—and whether the people sworn to uphold them deserve to come home alive.
Chad is a conservative podcaster and ranch owner from West Texas. Raised in a military family, his commentary focuses on national sovereignty, cultural identity, and the responsibilities required to sustain a functioning republic.