The revolution will be well attended. And it may accomplish absolutely nothing.
On Saturday, hundreds of thousands — perhaps millions — of Americans will pour into city streets for the third installment of the No Kings protests, a nationwide day of action organized by the activist coalition Indivisible. Organizers are predicting that it could be the single largest day of domestic political protest in American history. Bruce Springsteen will perform in St. Paul, Minn. The American Civil Liberties Union has been hosting training sessions on how to reduce risk to yourself while protesting peacefully. Signs are being painted. Chants are being rehearsed.
And when it’s all over, Donald Trump will still be president.
That’s not a prediction rooted in cynicism. It’s a reality that follows from a simple question the No Kings movement has conspicuously avoided answering: What precisely do you want?
Browse the coalition’s official materials and you’ll find the language of a college freshman’s civics essay rather than a political manifesto. The marches are against “authoritarianism.” The organizers say they intend to “show our power, build our power, and power a democracy that advances freedom, equality, justice, and dignity for all.” The ACLU of Illinois describes it as “a nationwide collective demand for accountability, dignity, and the rule of law.” These are sentiments, not demands. And sentiments, however passionately held, do not move the levers of government.
The No Kings label is a rhetorical umbrella large enough to shelter half the country — and therein lies the problem. A demonstration against everything is, in practical terms, a protest against nothing. You cannot negotiate with a slogan. You cannot pressure a senator to change a specific vote when the ask is simply that America remain America. And you cannot pass legislation responding to “no kings” — that law was passed in 1787 and is commonly known as the United States Constitution.
Saturday’s marches risk becoming what so many well-attended American protests have become — a communal emotional release that feels transformative in the moment and registers as noise in Washington.
Consider what effective protest movements actually look like. The marches for marriage equality in the 2000s had a concrete, binary goal: legal recognition of same-sex marriage. The March for Our Lives had a specific legislative target: universal background checks and a ban on assault weapons. Antiabortion marchers spent 50 years showing up in Washington demanding the reversal of a single Supreme Court decision.
You may disagree with any of these causes, but you cannot dispute their clarity. A politician knew exactly what those crowds wanted, which meant politicians could be held to account for delivering or refusing it.









