A republic holds its breath. On this Saturday, June 14 - the 250th anniversary of the founding of the U.S. Army, Flag Day, and Donald Trump’s 79th birthday - thousands of soldiers are marching through Washington. But the true march is taking place elsewhere: in the streets of Philadelphia, on the boulevards of Los Angeles, in front of courthouses in Tucson, in public squares in Des Moines, at the gates of Mar-a-Lago. America has organized an uprising - peaceful, yet resolute.
The name of this movement: “No Kings.” A rejection of Trump’s self-stylization as an all-powerful ruler, of the military parade, of governing by decree, of the intimidation of the judiciary. The protest was initiated by the “50501 Movement” - 50 states, 50 protests, one movement. Millions are expected. It is the largest one-day mobilization since Trump’s return to the White House.
Protest als Gegenerzählung
In Philadelphia, the symbolic cradle of American democracy, tens of thousands are gathering. No crown, no throne, no relics. Just one guiding principle: “The flag does not belong to President Trump. It belongs to us.” Washington D.C. itself remains strikingly silent - the president has militarized the capital, and no protests have been permitted there.
The contrast is deliberate. While Trump demonstrates power with hundreds of military vehicles, fighter jets, and a pompous parade - at a cost of between 25 and 45 million dollars - the other America moves through its neighborhoods with banners. Not with tanks, but with signs. Not with threats, but with dissent. The escalation of recent days forms the backdrop for this nationwide release. In Los Angeles, streets were blocked and cars set on fire during protests against ICE raids. The government’s response: Marines, tear gas, rubber bullets, flashbangs - and the declaration of nighttime curfews. Democratic governors from California, New York, and Arizona warned of an “unprecedented misuse of the National Guard” and criticized Trump for openly withdrawing trust from local law enforcement.
At the same time, Republican governors in Virginia, Texas, Missouri, and Nebraska are mobilizing the National Guard - citing the need to prevent violence. “Zero tolerance for destruction,” said Virginia Governor Glenn Youngkin. Missouri announced it would “not wait for chaos.” Nebraska preemptively declared a state of emergency.
The opposing stance was voiced by Washington’s Democratic Governor Bob Ferguson on X: “Trump wants to prove we cannot secure our own country. Let’s show him otherwise - peacefully.” Arizona Governor Katie Hobbs also called for calm. In Pennsylvania, Governor Josh Shapiro spoke of up to 100,000 participants in Philadelphia. District Attorney Larry Krasner made it clear: “If you act like Martin Luther King, you’ll be fine.”
No King, Nowhere
What exactly is planned? Speeches, silent marches, sit-ins - from parking lots in small towns to courthouse steps in big cities. In Florida, a protest march is expected to go directly to the gates of Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate. Governor Ron DeSantis warned: “The red line is clear. Do not cross it.” But on the movement’s website, it states: “On June 14, we show up everywhere he is not. To say: no thrones, no crowns, no kings.”
Weapons are explicitly prohibited. The principle of nonviolence is mandatory for all participants - “De-escalation over confrontation.” Still, many police agencies are on high alert. In California, a tactical state of emergency has been declared: all time off canceled, reinforcements on standby.
“No Kings” is more than a slogan. It is a reminder that this democracy was once founded in rejection of monarchy - and today risks drifting back toward it. The protest is not just against Donald Trump as a person, but against the principle that power can run unchecked, that military spectacle can drown out civilian dissent. In the evening, they will take stock. In Phoenix, in Denver, in St. Paul, in Raleigh. Not in Washington - there, they will only march. But out in the country, people will speak. Question. Hope. Fight. And say one thing, a thousand times over:
“No Kings. Not now. Not here. Not ever.”