We need to discuss the basis of a new form of trust built on a

The words of Michael D. Higgins rise like the solemn toll of a great bell: “We need to discuss the basis of a new form of trust built on a meaningful form of citizenship appropriate for a republic.” In this statement, he summons us to a higher vision of community and responsibility. For a republic, unlike a monarchy or tyranny, does not rest upon the power of one ruler, but upon the living fabric of trust between the people and the institutions they create. Without that trust, the body of the republic withers, and the people are left adrift.

The ancients knew well that no state can endure without trust. The Roman Republic thrived not because of wealth alone, nor even because of military strength, but because its citizens believed that their participation mattered. They honored their duties as magistrates, senators, and soldiers, for they were bound by the idea of civitas—the shared life of the city. Yet when that bond of citizenship decayed, when ambition overshadowed service and corruption devoured integrity, the republic collapsed into empire. Higgins echoes this lesson: the survival of a republic depends not only on laws, but on a living covenant of citizenship rooted in meaning and honor.

His call for a “new form of trust” suggests that the old bonds have frayed. In every age, trust is tested—by inequality, by dishonesty, by neglect of the common good. When people no longer feel their voice matters, when leaders betray the ideals they claim to uphold, the sacred covenant between citizen and republic begins to crack. Higgins warns us that trust cannot be assumed; it must be continually renewed, re-forged in the furnace of dialogue, justice, and shared purpose.

Consider the example of the American Revolution. The colonists did not rebel only against taxes, but against the erosion of trust. They believed that their rights as citizens were being trampled, their voices ignored. Out of this fracture was born a new republic, where trust was to be built not on kingship, but on representation and shared responsibility. Yet even that republic has stumbled at times, proving again that trust is not once won for all eternity—it must be guarded, nourished, and re-created in every generation.

The meaning of Higgins’ words, then, is heroic and urgent: a republic is not merely a structure of government; it is a living relationship. Citizenship is not only privilege, but duty. Trust is not only confidence, but sacrifice—the willingness to place the good of the whole above selfish gain. Without these, a republic becomes hollow, a mere shell of institutions without spirit. With them, it becomes a beacon, a society where freedom and responsibility walk hand in hand.

The lesson is timeless: those who live in a republic must see themselves not as spectators, but as participants in a great covenant. To build trust, citizens must practice honesty, accountability, and service. To make citizenship meaningful, they must engage with their communities, vote with conscience, and uphold justice even when it costs them comfort. For in a republic, the destiny of the whole is shaped by the choices of each.

Practical actions follow: cultivate trust by acting with integrity in small and great matters alike. Practice citizenship not only at the ballot box but in daily life—through volunteering, dialogue, and defense of the vulnerable. Hold leaders accountable, but also hold yourself accountable, for a republic belongs to all. And above all, renew the covenant of trust in your own heart, remembering always that the strength of a republic is not found in palaces or parliaments, but in the spirit of its citizens.