Across pockets of the United States, a new form of citizenship defined not by democratic participation, but by loyalty to conspiracy theories, is emerging. Enabled by the promotion of no small number of conspiracy theories from government officials, the real transformation is happening at the grassroots: school boards, sheriff’s offices, and town halls are being systematically captured by those who see governance as a battle against imagined enemies. This isn’t just political polarization. It’s a fundamental redefinition of what it means to be an American citizen, and in this new civic order, belonging isn’t determined by legal status or community contribution but is instead measured by one’s commitment to an alternative reality. This logic was laid bare when Donald Trump, in a hot mic moment ahead of a press briefing, suggested to Salvadoran president Nayib Bukele in April that he build “about five more places [prisons] for the homegrowns,” suggesting that the Trump administration is eager to adhere to a new ideological purity test that holds the rights of even native-born Americans on the line.

In Michigan and New Mexico, for example, sheriffs openly refuse to enforce state and federal laws they deem illegitimate. Groups like Moms for Liberty have been making moves to take over school boards, transforming educational oversight into ideological warfare. Town meetings, once forums for compromise, have become stages for performative outrage about “woke mind control” and “globalist agendas.” This transformation has been decades in the making. Fox News and its ilk do not report news; they instead architect a worldview where American democracy is perpetually under siege, using inflammatory headlines as cannon fodder. For nearly thirty years, segments on immigrant “invasions” and “Deep State” cabals have cultivated an emotional grammar of conspiracy citizenship characterized by mistrust, moral panic, and delusions of heroism.

The Dominion lawsuit revealed what many suspected: Fox hosts knew their narratives were false but broadcast them anyway to retain viewers. It became abundantly, publicly clear that truth is negotiable, and audience loyalty is not. While primetime Fox ignites national narratives, platforms like Facebook, Telegram, and more enable neighbors, school board members, and local law enforcement to circulate tailored misinformation targeting their own communities. What begins as a Tucker Carlson segment about “parental rights” or “border invasion” quickly becomes a Facebook group organizing to ban specific library books or harass election workers.

Meanwhile, Telegram has become the hub for more extreme organizing. Groups like the the Oath Keepers, Constitutional Sheriffs and Peace Officers Association (CSPOA), Proud Boys, international militia offshoots, and COVID-denialist networks use Telegram to coordinate protests, doxx local officials, and swap memes that blend apocalyptic rhetoric with calls to action. Telegram removes the last remaining friction: users can radicalize without fear of moderation, while communicating directly with others who see violence as a civic obligation.

The interplay between these platforms and broadcast media creates a feedback loop with real-world consequences, some of which have proven to be tragically lethal in the assassination of Melissa Hortman and her husband. Local officials, already underpaid and overstretched, have resigned in droves facing onslaughts from virulent election conspiracy theorists. What looks like hyperbole online often materializes as intimidation, violence, and murder offline. 

Underlying this shift is a deeper crisis: late-stage capitalism has hollowed out rural America, leaving behind economic despair and institutional decay. As factories closed and wages stagnated, many felt abandoned by the system. Into this vacuum marched the radicalized outrage economy, offering scapegoats and a fresh new identity. In many towns, ICE raids became both a spectacle and a rallying point, reinforcing the idea that protecting the “real America” meant purging it of perceived outsiders, an ideology aligning seamlessly with the rhetoric of border invasions, demographic replacement, and “sovereign” sheriffs who refuse to enforce federal law. It replaces broken promises of fairness with something more visceral and enticing: the conviction that you are the “real American” fighting against high levels of elite corruption for the sake of a better life.

We face not just a political crisis but a radically dangerous civic one. Project 2025’s proposals to restrict citizenship, tighten birthright access, and reshape immigration enforcement seeks to hardwire this exclusionary vision into national policy, turning what is now a grassroots experiment in conspiracy citizenship into the governing framework of the United States. Until we recognize that the battleground isn’t only in Washington but in every county commission and school board meeting, we’ll fail to address the problem’s true scale and the depth of the rot.

Posted 03 September 2025.