This past weekend, across Maryland, across the nation and even in places as far as France and Ireland, people gathered under one resonant banner: “No Kings.” It was a phrase painted on cardboard and cloth, shouted from courthouse steps and public squares, chanted not in anger but in remembrance of an idea, an idea that power in a democracy is borrowed, never owned.
But slogans, like fireworks, flare brightly and fade fast. What matters is what lingers after the echo. The truest defense of liberty is not the rallying cry itself, but the discipline to live by its meaning long after the crowd has dispersed. That is where our democracy either strengthens or slips.
Corruption and apathy thrive not because we lack laws, but because we lack the courage to enforce them equally. Marylanders understand this. We live in a state whose founding principles helped define the delicate balance between freedom and order. Yet too often, we mistake the presence of institutions for the practice of democracy. We assume that if there are elections, Human Rights Commissions or ethics boards, the system will self-correct. It will not. Systems only work when residents make them work.
Many today, frustrated by federal dysfunction, are tempted to assign blame, on a party, a person or a movement. But democratic backsliding rarely arrives in the form of a single figure. It creeps in quietly, as residents cease to hold their leaders accountable. The decline begins not in Washington, but in our own willingness to tolerate what we once would not.
Here in Maryland, we need to remember that “No Kings” is not just a national appeal; it is a local obligation. It means telling our mayors, council members and state officials the same truth we tell any federal power: No kings, no exceptions. When those in authority disregard transparency laws or treat public office as personal possession, we must not defer out of politeness or partisanship. We must respond with principled insistence that no one, no mayor, no commissioner, no department head, is above the people they serve.
Democracy, after all, is not self-cleaning. Accountability does not descend from the heavens; it is built from the ground up, by residents who refuse to trade moral clarity for comfort. The founders did not design a government to be adored, but to be checked. The moment we mistake loyalty for virtue, we invite the very monarchy past generations rejected.
There is, in the Maryland spirit, something sturdier than cynicism. Ours is a state of stewards, people who show up for hearings, file public records requests, volunteer at polls and write letters long after the cameras are gone. That is the courage democracy demands. To act independently of the crowd. To question even those we admire. To stand up not because it is popular, but because it is right.
In that sense, the “No Kings” movement may become less a protest than a practice. It calls us to strengthen our moral muscles, to exercise civic courage in small, steady ways. It is not enough to affix a slogan to a bumper; we must affix its meaning to our lives. To do so is to realign ourselves with the balance our principles demand: liberty paired with responsibility, freedom sustained by vigilance, integrity demonstrated through action.
Maryland’s role, as it has been since the founding era, is to model that balance, to remind the nation that true power in a democracy belongs not to those who hold office, but to those who hold faith in their neighbors.
“No Kings” is more than a chant. It is our covenant. And it begins again, each time an ordinary resident decides that principles are worth the discomfort it takes to uphold them.
To honor that covenant, Marylanders must embrace courage without fear. As our state’s most influential jurist, Thurgood Marshall, advised: “You do what you think is right and let the law catch up.” Act boldly when the crowd has dispersed. Speak truth to power when it feels inconvenient. Challenge what is comfortable. Let liberty be defended not in slogans alone, but in the steady courage of residents unwilling to trade principle for ease.
“No Kings” is not a moment. It is a practice. And in practicing it, we remind ourselves, and the world, that freedom favors the brave and that Maryland is the home of the brave.
Will Fries is the editor of The Watershed Observer based on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
