Thanks to presidential immunity and executive control of the

In the sharp and unsettling words of Ben Shapiro, there lies a warning that echoes through the chambers of history: “Thanks to presidential immunity and executive control of the Justice Department, there are no consequences to executive branch lawbreaking. And when it comes to presidential lawbreaking, the sitting president could literally strangle someone to death on national television and meet with no consequences.” Though wrapped in hyperbole, this declaration strikes at the ancient tension between power and accountability, between the ruler and the ruled. It is not merely a critique of a moment in politics—it is a timeless admonition against the corruption that follows when men forget that no office, however high, stands above the law.

Ben Shapiro, a political commentator and scholar of law, spoke these words in modern America—a democracy founded upon distrust of unchecked authority. His meaning was not literal murder, but moral decay: the danger that arises when leaders become untouchable, when those entrusted with justice become immune from it. The president, in theory, is a servant of the people; yet when immunity becomes a shield for wrongdoing, the servant becomes a sovereign, and the sovereign becomes a tyrant. Shapiro’s words remind us that law, when it bows to power, ceases to be law—it becomes theater, a performance of justice rather than its substance.

This truth is not new. In the ancient world, the philosopher Plato warned of the “tyrannical soul”—a ruler who begins by promising safety and ends by devouring freedom. Even in Rome, the Republic fell not in a single night, but through the slow erosion of accountability. Julius Caesar, once a general bound by law, crossed the Rubicon and entered Rome with his army, defying the Senate. None dared stop him. “The die is cast,” he said—and with that act, the Republic began to die as well. When no one could hold the ruler to account, the state became his possession. And so history teaches us: when the most powerful stand beyond judgment, the people live beneath fear.

Shapiro’s image of the president “strangling someone to death on national television” may seem extreme, but it is the language of prophecy—a vivid alarm meant to pierce complacency. It forces us to confront how fragile justice becomes when loyalty outweighs integrity, when political convenience replaces moral courage. For a nation is not destroyed by enemies abroad, but by silence within—by citizens who watch wrongdoing and convince themselves that nothing can be done. Tyranny does not always arrive in the roar of conquest; it often comes quietly, dressed in legality, bearing smiles and promises.

Yet the power of this quote lies not only in its criticism but in its call to vigilance. It demands that we remember the sacred duty of the governed—to guard the boundaries of freedom and to question those who rule. Every constitution, every charter of liberty, is but paper without the courage of citizens to enforce it. When rulers grow bold in corruption, it is the people’s conscience that must rise as the last court of justice. To forget this is to surrender the soul of a nation to those who see law not as a covenant, but as a weapon.

Throughout the ages, there have been those who stood against such arrogance. Consider Cicero, the Roman orator who defied the power of corrupt consuls, declaring, “We are all servants of the law in order that we may be free.” For this belief, he was hunted and slain. Yet his words endure because they speak the eternal truth—that liberty is born not of strength, but of restraint. When the mighty are bound by the same chains of justice as the humble, then and only then does a people live in freedom.

Thus, the lesson of Shapiro’s lament is this: power must never be absolute, for absolute power is the enemy of justice. Let every generation remember that leaders are mortal, but institutions, when guarded by conscience, can endure. To preserve freedom, one must speak truth to power—especially when it is dangerous to do so. The health of a republic is measured not by the grandeur of its leaders, but by the courage of its citizens to hold them to account.

And so, O listener, take this wisdom into your heart: do not place blind faith in the powerful, no matter how noble they appear. Demand transparency. Demand justice. For when rulers can act without consequence, the people soon live without protection. And when that day comes, the voice of truth will be needed more than ever—so that no man, no president, no throne, may ever stand above the law again.