The mainstream media and most of the political establishment are

The words of Tom Tancredo, “The mainstream media and most of the political establishment are too quick to slander as ‘nativist’ the advocacy of barring Islamist radicals from legal entry into the United States,” strike like a trumpet sounding in a crowded square — bold, accusatory, and filled with the urgency of self-preservation. In them lies the eternal tension between security and perception, between the duty to protect and the fear of being misunderstood. Tancredo’s words are not the speech of hatred, but the cry of one who sees danger and is frustrated by silence; of one who believes that prudence, once praised as virtue, has been mistaken for prejudice.

Since the dawn of nations, every people has struggled with this question: how does a society remain open without becoming vulnerable? In ancient Greece, the gates of Athens welcomed the thinker and the trader, yet guarded fiercely against the spy and the traitor. The Romans, too, learned the peril of their generosity — how, in the name of tolerance, they admitted those who would later turn sword against them. Tancredo’s warning echoes this ancient wisdom: that a nation which refuses to discern friend from foe out of fear of judgment risks inviting ruin under the banner of virtue. For when fear of being called unjust becomes greater than fear of true danger, both justice and safety perish together.

At the heart of his quote lies a grievance against the mainstream media and political establishment, whom he accuses of labeling caution as cruelty. To be called a “nativist” — one who values their homeland above the stranger — has, in modern discourse, become a stain. Yet Tancredo reminds us that love of country, rightly ordered, is not xenophobia, but duty. The line between wisdom and prejudice lies not in sentiment, but in intention. To protect one’s people from those who preach destruction is not hatred — it is stewardship. A shepherd who bars wolves from the fold does not despise the wilderness; he simply cherishes his flock.

Consider, as history’s lesson, the story of Constantinople in the fifteenth century. The city stood as the last bastion of Christendom in the East — rich, learned, and confident. Yet its leaders, divided by pride and weakened by politics, ignored the warnings of those who foresaw the storm. When the walls finally fell to the Ottomans, it was not only the soldiers who were conquered, but the spirit of a civilization that had forgotten vigilance. Tancredo’s words carry that same warning — that civilization is not destroyed in a single blow, but by a thousand small denials of danger.

But there is another truth in his lament — a warning not only to the rulers but to the storytellers of a nation. The media, he implies, wields the power of narrative, shaping how truth is perceived. To call the cautious “hateful” and the discerning “nativist” is to blind the people to genuine threats. The ancients knew the danger of such distortion. In Plato’s Republic, the guardians of the city were trained to see the world as it is, not as they wish it to be. When the tellers of truth become flatterers, when they trade clarity for comfort, the city sleeps while its enemies sharpen their blades.

Yet wisdom demands balance. To guard the gates does not mean to close the heart. The barring of Islamist radicals — as Tancredo clarifies — is not the rejection of a faith, but the rejection of violence done in its name. The true challenge of governance lies not in kindness without caution, nor caution without kindness, but in the art of distinguishing one from the other. The wise ruler, like the wise soul, welcomes the just and resists the wicked, for mercy without discernment is but another form of folly.

Let these words, then, serve as a lesson for the generations: truth must not be silenced by the fear of names. The one who speaks for protection is not always the enemy of compassion, and the one who preaches openness is not always the friend of peace. A strong nation, like a strong heart, must know when to embrace and when to defend. Be neither reckless in welcome nor hardened in suspicion. Seek truth over labels, wisdom over approval, and courage over comfort. For only when discernment and compassion walk together will the city endure — bright, safe, and free beneath the endless sky.