AMERICANS HATE AMERICANS

The greatest threat to America isn’t a foreign enemy or a failed economy; it’s the gleeful hatred of Americans who no longer believe their neighbors deserve to exist.

Guest article by Michael Cohen. Remember to follow him on Substack for more by clicking here. Michael is also racing to 500K followers on YouTube! Subscribe today for free here.

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I was sitting at Sant Ambroeus the other morning — my usual spot, the one place I can count on a decent espresso and a moment of peace — when a man at the next table decided to join my conversation uninvited. That’s the new national pastime, by the way: inserting yourself where you don’t belong.

The topic was ICE, and the reports of their increasing brutality during raids. Before I could even finish my sentence, this guy, maybe early forties, pressed his cup down, leaned in with that smug, self-righteous grin I’ve come to recognize, and said, “They shouldn’t be here. They’re not entitled to our protections.”

He said it casually. Like he was commenting on the weather.

Now here’s the irony: he’s first-generation himself. His parents came here from somewhere else — probably the kind of story we like to romanticize as “the American Dream.” But there he was, sneering at the very same struggle that birthed his own existence.

That’s the America we live in now, where hypocrisy isn’t hidden anymore. It’s a badge.

We’ve become a country where Americans hate Americans. And not in the way that used to mean something — Democrat versus Republican, left versus right. No, this runs deeper. It’s personal now. Existential. It’s a moral collapse dressed up as patriotism.

I listened to that man talk, and it hit me: he’s not some anomaly. He’s the average American in 2025 — certain, angry, misinformed, and desperate to feel superior to someone. His hate gave him purpose. His cruelty gave him identity. And his indifference gave him power.

This isn’t politics anymore. It’s pathology.

Every day, I see people turning their outrage inward — not at corruption, not at injustice, not at the billionaires strip-mining the country, but at each other. Their neighbor. The single mother crossing a border. The stranger at the grocery store who doesn’t speak English.

We are rotting from the inside out, and we’re applauding ourselves while it happens.

When I worked for Donald Trump, I saw firsthand how easy it was to weaponize division. You feed people lies long enough and they’ll start to crave them. You tell them who to blame, who to hate, and they’ll thank you for the direction. Hate, after all, is simpler than introspection.

Trump didn’t invent this sickness; he just understood how to sell it.

Now, years later, we’re still buying it — with interest.

We are the United States in name only. Look around. One in three Americans believes violence may be necessary to “save the country.” One in three. Governors are defying federal law. State militias are arming for “defense” against other Americans. We’re fighting cultural wars, racial wars, class wars — all while pretending the real war isn’t the one inside us.

The billionaire Ray Dalio said recently that America’s “power to hurt each other has never been greater.” He’s right, but not just because of weapons or technology. It’s because we’ve learned to enjoy it. The cruelty itself has become entertainment. The humiliation of others — their pain, their downfall — it’s not just tolerated. It’s monetized.

We now have an economy of hate — political, cultural, digital — feeding a population addicted to outrage. And like any addiction, it demands escalation.

The man at Sant Ambroeus wasn’t an outlier. He was a mirror. He was showing me — showing us — what we’ve become: a nation that no longer values decency, only dominance. Where empathy is weakness and hate feels like power.

We don’t talk to each other anymore. We perform at each other. Every disagreement is a declaration of war. Every online argument becomes a moral crusade. We’ve traded humility for hashtags, truth for validation, and citizenship for sides.

The danger isn’t that Americans disagree; it’s that we’ve stopped believing the other side deserves to exist.

This is what happens when a country loses its soul. Not overnight, but inch by inch. Through the small, daily indulgences of contempt. Through conversations like the one I had at that café — where hatred is expressed casually, confidently, and without consequence.

We’ve been trained to think the next civil war will start with gunfire. It won’t. It’ll start exactly like this: with silence. With indifference. With people looking away.

The truth is, the next war won’t be fought between North and South, red and blue. It’ll be between Americans who still believe in the idea of humanity and those who don’t.

That’s what I saw in that man’s smirk. Not confidence. Not conviction. Just a void where empathy used to be.

And that’s what terrifies me most: not that Americans hate each other, but that hate has become the only language we still speak.

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