First-Time Libtard

I got called a libtard for the first time a couple days ago. It is no secret, at least to me, that my political alignment has shifted somewhat to the left. I wrote about it recently in my post called The Other Deconstruction, which was published on January 19th.

But after this experience, I found myself wondering: If I'm no longer aligned with the republican party, who moved?

The Exchange

Let me set the stage for what led up to the colorful label being applied. I was scrolling Facebook and came across a woman's page that had posted her thoughts about what it means to be a republican amongst her mostly non-republican friends. She never said what party her friends belonged to. But she'd been able to build a bridge because they thanked her for a perspective she shared recently. I hadn't read that earlier post, but the one I did read contained this tidbit:

"I don't agree with Bibles in all public schools. I Love Jesus. My God saved my life. But that doesn't mean everyone else feels that way. And if we push to the Bible, what's to stop the Torah, the Qua-ran, or other religious text to be forced upon others at school? It isn't ubiquitous to say all have to be included?"

My response to her post was supportive. I simply said, "I have no problems with this kind of Christianity. It's the nationalists that I take exception with."

Then, like a bee drawn to honey, someone else who saw my comment responded with a demand: "define a Christian nationalist. Are you referring to George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams'? This nation was founded on Christian beliefs by the ultimate nationalists."

Many with an understanding about the Constitution and the founding of the United States understands that the founding fathers were not founding the country on Christian beliefs. They established the United States on Enlightenment principles. They remembered how the King of England forced a national religion. They'd watched state religion poison Europe.

The founding fathers wanted to set up something different. They were intentional in setting up, at the foundation of everything, the clause that leads all the rest: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

That is significant. It has weight. It says, this was the very first right that the founders wanted to make sure was protected: the prohibition of Congress to make a national religion and the freedom of the people to worship freely or even to not worship at all.

I assumed my responder would be aware of this. So I simply said, "Don't be obtuse." I shouldn't have to explain this to you, I thought. I gave him a chance to examine himself and see if he might have missed something. I chose not to engage in an argument.

That's when it came: "why can't libtards ever back up their dumbass statements?"

The Irony

The irony of this statement is not lost on me. My earliest memories of being at all politically aware were of being disgusted when Bill Clinton was elected president in 1993. I was 11 years old and don't remember exactly why — I can only speculate it had to do with the home I grew up in, where aligning with the Republican party was simply assumed.

I bring this up not as a tangent, but to establish where I started. The journey from that 11-year-old boy disgusted by Clinton's election to someone being called a "libtard" in 2026 is exactly the journey I'm trying to make sense of. Because many values I thought I was holding haven't changed — but something clearly has.

We believed in the Constitution. The Constitution and the Bill of Rights were considered sacred texts. The republican party was the limited government, pro-constitution party. They gave out pocket constitutions at rallies. And yet, in 2026, that party has wandered from those moorings.

What Changed

The republican party, under Donald Trump, has morphed into something that I would not want to be a part of today. The Christian Nationalists are pushing Project 2025 and seeking to push the Ten Commandments and Christian prayer into schools. One of this project's primary goals is to abolish the principle of separation of church and state.

That's just one example of the larger pattern — a presidency systematically dismantling the structural safeguards that made our democracy resilient.

I didn't lay all of this out in my Facebook response — I didn't feel I should have to. These aren't fringe observations. They're documented shifts in policy and rhetoric that anyone paying attention can see. But this is the background that informed my thinking when I told him not to be obtuse.

I did mention the Treaty of Tripoli to him. This treaty was signed in 1796, just a matter of years after the Constitution was ratified. In the 11th article, it reads plain as day, "As the Government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian religion..." The treaty was ratified by the Senate and President John Adams.

I pointed to the treaty and intended only to let it speak for itself. I encouraged him to reread it — it had been a refresher for me.

I wasn't as graceful as I could have been in the exchange. The commentor threw barbs, I threw some back. But I offered what I thought was concrete evidence of the motivations of our founding fathers. I thought the term Christian Nationalist was well understood.

The bottom line is that we seemed to be speaking past each other instead of to each other.

The Badge

There are powers that seek to establish a national religion in the United States. This is no secret. I intend to call them out when I notice them. In many ways, I haven't moved to the left so much as the Republican party I grew up loving has moved further to the right.

Here's the thing: while this commenter clearly meant "libtard" as an insult, I've chosen to take it as an opportunity for self-reflection. Maybe I have moved left more than I realize. Maybe the shift isn't as simple as "they moved, not me." Maybe both things can be true depending on the situation.

What I know for certain is this: I still believe in the Constitution. I still believe in limited government power and individual liberty. I still believe in the separation of church and state. If holding those positions now makes me a "libtard" to the people who used to share them with me, then perhaps the label says more about how far they've traveled.

And if being called that name is the price of staying anchored to those principles, I'll wear it without shame.