Blog
LatestArticlesVideos
Radio
LivePodcastSerialsStations
TV
Podcasts
The Glenn Beck ProgramThe Glenn Beck PodcastThe Beck Story
Fine Art
Real Estate
Shop
More
AboutCharityBooksSponsorsContact
SEARCH
Live Radio

©2024 MERCURY RADIO ARTS.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

TERMS OF USE | PRIVACY POLICY

Live

Glenn's Show Prep

This interview will leave you speechless: The Lost Boys of Sudan

October 01, 2014
Wilson

Writer

Glenn had the opportunity to interview Ger Duany and Emmanuel Jal on radio today, two of the stars (and real life lost boys of Sudan) featured in ‘The Good Lie’ from Warner Bros. The movie is getting rave reviews and Glenn calls it a ‘perspective game changer’ that every American needs to see. Ger and Emmanuel tell Glenn of the horrors they escaped as child soldiers in the Sudanese civil war. Unbelievable stuff.

Watch a trailer for the film below:

GLENN: About a week and a half ago, I saw a movie I've been telling you to see. It opens up Friday. And I've been telling you you need to bring everybody you know. You need to bring your family, your friends, your kids. I'm coming back to my house in Dallas in weekend assuming we're not under some Ebola quarantine. I'm bringing my family to the movie theater on Friday night to see this movie. It is tremendous. And probably I think the most important movie at the right time for America.

You will be amazed at this story, uplifted by the story. Horrified by the story, but I think most importantly at least I was shamed by this story. Because it puts our American problems into perspective and it puts our Christianity into perspective. Really. What are we doing with our life? And you see us with the eyes of an outsider. It's called The Good Lie. Stars Reese Witherspoon, but quite honestly when I left the theater a couple of weeks ago, I said to the guys from Warner Brothers, as much as I like to talk to Reese, we can talk to her any time. I want to talk to the Lost Boys. I want to talk to the guys who were in it, especially if they had led a life similar to that. They have, and they're here with us.

Ger Duany is here. He plays Jeremiah in the movie, and Emmanuel Jal, he plays Paul. You guys both, first of all. Hello, welcome, and how are you.

VOICE: Hi, thank you.

GER: Thanks for having us.

GLENN: You guys both grew up kind of similar to the movie. You were in the Sudan, and you were taken and forced to fight as child soldiers. Right?

GER: Yes.

GLENN: What is that like?

GER: Thanks for having us, first of all.

And this film is set in the backdrop of the civil war between the north and south Sudan. In the center of it is our life experiences as a Lost Boy of Sudan who escaped the war in 1987 by foot to Ethiopia. When we reach Ethiopia and the refugee camp which was controlled by the military, we were trained instantly at the age of eight and then stayed in Ethiopia for four, five years. And not only that, in 1991, we encountered the Ethiopian civil war that make us scared everywhere again in Africa. Many of us ran to Kenya and any country that surrounded our country. So I went back to South Sedan and Emanuel the same goes for him. And now we here, we talking about the movie.

GLENN: Did you guys lose all your family as the characters in the movie did?

EMMANUEL: When -- we all have experienced differently because the war reached my family. All my aunts died in the war, including my mom and later to learn my uncles only two that I know that are alive, and so the way you look at it, it's like Hell. So we have experienced Hell on Earth. Sometimes you ask yourself questions if, when we're kids, if this is not Hell, where is the other Hell? Because my mother would tell me that one day the world would end and bad people are going to go to Hell. And so when the bombs dropped -- rained in my village and seeing everything being taken away from me, and I thought that was Hell. And all through our lives, you see six, seven years old, burying their own dead.

GLENN: I saw the scenes in the movie, you know, where I want to live, and so you're drinking your own urine, and a leader is I don't even know, what, eight or ten years old, of this small little group that goes out. He's now the chief.

And the things that these kids are having to deal with. Nobody in America thinks of things like this.

GER: Yeah, our war was very brutal. Especially the previous one was very brutal. Not as much as the current one that's going on now. And you're watching that movie, you see those kids drinking their own urine, it's real. Because in our area, it's dry. To find water, you just have to bet your entire life. Those kind of events they really happen, in this movie, because we're just in a surviving mode.

GLENN: Okay. I want to make sure that you as a listener, please don't think this is a depressing movie. Because I hear this stuff, and I say I don't want to see a movie about the Sudan and the civil war because that sounds depressing. It's really shocking.

EMMANUEL: It's a testimony.

GLENN: I don't know how you guys did it, but it's so uplifting.

EMMANUEL: It's a testimonial movie. Anyone who come there will see how life is. And also for people who have faith, you will see what faith can do. Because faith is the substance of the things hoped for and evidence of the unseen.

Myself, I would put an experience at one point. When you talk about the urine place, we all have an experience. But one of the lowest point I ever had was when I was tempted to eat my friend when we ran out of food. So my friend was dying. And I told him, 'I'm going to eat you tomorrow.' But I remember what my mother used to do. So she come from the church. So she used to pray. So I prayed to my mother's God, and I say, God, if you can give me something to eat today, one day when I survive, I'm going to give the testimony and give the credit to you.

So if you look at the movie, the Bible is a star in its own right.

GLENN: It is. And yet it's not jammed down anybody's throat. I mean, it's very subtly done and beautifully done, but it is the rock that you tie yourself to. Can I ask what happened, you found food the next day?

EMMANUEL: What happened is when I prayed -- because cannibalism started. We're eating snails, vultures. We ran out of food, and we're a group of 2- to 400 young people. We plan an escape. In the end, only 16 people survived in the end.

GLENN: Oh, my gosh.

EMMANUEL: And a crow was the one that answered my prayer that became the block to prevent me from eating my friend.

GER: You know, to add something to that, you know it's true. We have experienced a lot of famine in our area during the civil war, especially 1991 famines has killed thousands of us, let alone the disease. You know, like, we're sitting here. I know like what it is like to be hungry while you're healthy and you really needed it and you can't find it. It's crazy. If you attempted to eat your comrade, that's something -- I'm scared of this guy now.

EMMANUEL: I mean, I've never been in a situation like that where your senses change. My senses changed where, because we haven't showered for days. We haven't eaten, and then my fellow human being smell like dry meat. That's how people smell, those that die. They don't smell rotten. They smell like dry meat. And one time I went under the tree hoping I could find any pieces to eat when nobody is able to see me.

GER: That's like the dry season. I remember like '92 probably like it was a rainy season. There's nothing because nobody cultivated nothing. So how we used to just eat grass and leaves? Then when you go and take a load, and then it come out as greenness. It went through your mouth.

GLENN: So when you guys got here after everything that you saw, this is the part of the movie that really was exceptionally hard for me because you love your characters by the time you get to America. You just love all of you. You're just really -- you two in particular are just exceptional on screen. And then you come here, and Reese Witherspoon shows up and you immediately dislike her because she has no concept and she doesn't care.

No one can relate in our arrogance. No one in our arrogance can relate. So what -- when you really came over as Lost Boys, did you -- what was your experience like?

Jeremiah, the character Jeremiah you played, when he's out in the back of the store and he's like, wait a minute. All this food and you want to help that homeless person. Did you have those kinds of experiences?

GER: We have. Yes, I have those kinds of experiences, but not exactly as Jeremiah encountered those. But to talk about his character, I think he found himself captivated in a society where it's not moving a lot. And you see him in a grocery store where there's so much food, but it has to be thrown away. So things was not adding up to him.

GLENN: You're thinking about I'm going to eat my dude over here. You got to throw away all this perfectly good food. This is nuts.

GER: Yeah. I viewed the boss as a lion. So lion when they speak, metaphorically, it doesn't really mean a lion that ate Paul. This really is a lion in terms of human being that is smart to you and being cruel at the same time. I think that's what Isaiah was referring to.

So in my personal life, when I came here in 1994, we came here to the Lutheran church. And we were like the first group of guys before everybody knew about the Lost Boys of Sudan. They just knew we were a refugee who came to this part of the world. So we didn't know anything. Everything was learning from the very beginning. And that's when I can admit that we are really a lost generation from war.

And later on, we decided to turn to each other and find a strength for what this guy did in the movie. And things came in society where we were welcomed.

GLENN: You guys are both highly successful now. You've done very famous modeling. You've done albums or CDs, and all kinds of stuff, the two of you. Successful.

How have you not lost -- or have you -- how have you not lost that -- how have you not become part of the problem? How do you not become part of yeah, I got all this and it's disposable it's great. It's never going to end.

EMMANUEL: I think that's not the case.

GLENN: The one you play, your character, he does lose his way.

EMMANUEL: He lost his way in so many way because he wasn't focused, and he had so many hopes and dreams, and it wasn't the life that he was hoping.

But in terms of where you're asking about experiences when you come into a new world. If I try to compare the experiences in the movie and actually what I experienced, because in the movie, it's Paul, just to try to see how this shock and how Jeremiah's situation was. The first time I was brought into an organized place, a complex society, where there's toilet in a room, you know, what fascinated me was a toilet. You know, when you go to that toilet. I was wondering when somebody download a file, how that machine takes everything away in front of you. And then clean water comes, and then what I used to do. It's imagination.

So I used to think probably a snake would come out. So when I'm using it. I have to stand hoping when I download the file, probably a snake wouldn't bite me. I just hold it. And so that's one experience.

And if I try to connect it back to Ger's experience coming here, I was in Kenya. I see the TV. I watch the movies about aliens, and I'm reading the Bible. And when I was shock about the cathedrals, the big buildings, the bridges, the train system, and everything, and in my head, I kind of like concluded and said, probably white people are the fallen angels or maybe they're aliens. It took me a while to actually know that these people are normal human beings.

So, I mean, I could go on and on. The life we are living now we've been transformed. I mean, we come from a situation where we're starving at one point. Now, we have plenty to eat. At one time, I was trying to tell kids that I am in a place where I choose to eat one meal a day. And the kids what do you mean, we eat one meal a day? I told them, in this place, people die of fatness. And one kid said, wow, that's the coolest death ever.

And so -- and now you see me like I have music out there. So the truth is this movie we just did, I happened to an album called the Keys. There were two songs are now in the movie. One song is featuring Nelly Furtado.

And so the transformation of our life, we're in a dream. We can't actually believe it. We don't even know how to thank God. Because we've been transformed. The way you look at it, we came from the bottom like lobsters, and now we're rolling at the top like rock stars, you know.

GLENN: It is a pleasure to have you two, and I can't thank you enough for your work and please let everybody know in the movie just how grateful I am that you made it and you made it with such care and such heart. It is truly a masterpiece. Just fantastic movie.

GER: Thank you so much. The sad thing, the thing is we're promoting -- I just came from refugee camp like three weeks ago and the same people we doing the movie about them they are in the refugee camp right now because no country to stand as new state plunged back into civil war. We have dictators. We have a lot of corruption in the country and a lot of famine is killing a lot of children. So this movie right here, not that it's a lost boy story it's a story for humanity and our message to the world is that come support the children of Sudan. Help us find the help that we need that we got from you guys which is American. Because our country --

GLENN: Are you guy on TV with me tomorrow? Do you know?

GER: I'm not sure.

GLENN: I would like to pursue that with you and talk about that.

GER: Please. We enjoy your moment now, though.

GLENN: Thank you so much. The name of the movie is The Good Lie. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Please go see this movie. It opens this weekend in theaters everywhere. It's from the same people that brought us The Blind Side. It's really, really high quality. Really well-done and one of the best stories I've seen in a long time. The Good Lie in movie theaters beginning Friday.

Why do Americans feel so empty?

Mario Tama / Staff | Getty Images

Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

Harold M. Lambert / Contributor | Getty Images

Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A break in trust: A NEW Watergate is brewing in plain sight

Gary Hershorn / Contributor | Getty Images

When institutions betray the public’s trust, the country splits, and the spiral is hard to stop.

Something drastic is happening in American life. Headlines that should leave us stunned barely register anymore. Stories that once would have united the country instead dissolve into silence or shrugs.

It is not apathy exactly. It is something deeper — a growing belief that the people in charge either cannot or will not fix what is broken.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf.

I call this response the Bubba effect. It describes what happens when institutions lose so much public trust that “Bubba,” the average American minding his own business, finally throws his hands up and says, “Fine. I will handle it myself.” Not because he wants to, but because the system that was supposed to protect him now feels indifferent, corrupt, or openly hostile.

The Bubba effect is not a political movement. It is a survival instinct.

What triggers the Bubba effect

We are watching the triggers unfold in real time. When members of Congress publicly encourage active duty troops to disregard orders from the commander in chief, that is not a political squabble. When a federal judge quietly rewrites the rules so one branch of government can secretly surveil another, that is not normal. That is how republics fall. Yet these stories glided across the news cycle without urgency, without consequence, without explanation.

When the American people see the leadership class shrug, they conclude — correctly — that no one is steering the ship.

This is how the Bubba effect spreads. It is not just individuals resisting authority. It is sheriffs refusing to enforce new policies, school boards ignoring state mandates, entire communities saying, “We do not believe you anymore.” It becomes institutional, cultural, national.

A country cracking from the inside

This effect can be seen in Dearborn, Michigan. In the rise of fringe voices like Nick Fuentes. In the Epstein scandal, where powerful people could not seem to locate a single accountable adult. These stories are different in content but identical in message: The system protects itself, not you.

When people feel ignored or betrayed, they will align with anyone who appears willing to fight on their behalf. That does not mean they suddenly agree with everything that person says. It means they feel abandoned by the institutions that were supposed to be trustworthy.

The Bubba effect is what fills that vacuum.

The dangers of a faithless system

A republic cannot survive without credibility. Congress cannot oversee intelligence agencies if it refuses to discipline its own members. The military cannot remain apolitical if its chain of command becomes optional. The judiciary cannot defend the Constitution while inventing loopholes that erase the separation of powers.

History shows that once a nation militarizes politics, normalizes constitutional shortcuts, or allows government agencies to operate without scrutiny, it does not return to equilibrium peacefully. Something will give.

The question is what — and when.

The responsibility now belongs to us

In a healthy country, this is where the media steps in. This is where universities, pastors, journalists, and cultural leaders pause the outrage machine and explain what is at stake. But today, too many see themselves not as guardians of the republic, but of ideology. Their first loyalty is to narrative, not truth.

The founders never trusted the press more than the public. They trusted citizens who understood their rights, lived their responsibilities, and demanded accountability. That is the antidote to the Bubba effect — not rage, but citizenship.

How to respond without breaking ourselves

Do not riot. Do not withdraw. Do not cheer on destruction just because you dislike the target. That is how nations lose themselves. Instead, demand transparency. Call your representatives. Insist on consequences. Refuse to normalize constitutional violations simply because “everyone does it.” If you expect nothing, you will get nothing.

Do not hand your voice to the loudest warrior simply because he is swinging a bat at the establishment. You do not beat corruption by joining a different version of it. You beat it by modeling the country you want to preserve: principled, accountable, rooted in truth.

Adam Gray / Stringer | Getty Images

Every republic reaches a moment when historians will later say, “That was the warning.” We are living in ours. But warnings are gifts if they are recognized. Institutions bend. People fail. The Constitution can recover — if enough Americans still know and cherish it.

It does not take a majority. Twenty percent of the country — awake, educated, and courageous — can reset the system. It has happened before. It can happen again.

Wake up. Stand up. Demand integrity — from leaders, from institutions, and from yourself. Because the Bubba effect will not end until Americans reclaim the duty that has always belonged to them: preserving the republic for the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Warning: Stop letting TikTok activists think for you

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Bad-faith attacks on Israel and AIPAC warp every debate. Real answers emerge only when people set aside scripts and ask what serves America’s long-term interests.

The search for truth has always required something very much in short supply these days: honesty. Not performative questions, not scripted outrage, not whatever happens to be trending on TikTok, but real curiosity.

Some issues, often focused on foreign aid, AIPAC, or Israel, have become hotbeds of debate and disagreement. Before we jump into those debates, however, we must return to a simpler, more important issue: honest questioning. Without it, nothing in these debates matters.

Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

The phrase “just asking questions” has re-entered the zeitgeist, and that’s fine. We should always question power. But too many of those questions feel preloaded with someone else’s answer. If the goal is truth, then the questions should come from a sincere desire to understand, not from a hunt for a villain.

Honest desire for truth is the only foundation that can support a real conversation about these issues.

Truth-seeking is real work

Right now, plenty of people are not seeking the truth at all. They are repeating something they heard from a politician on cable news or from a stranger on TikTok who has never opened a history book. That is not a search for answers. That is simply outsourcing your own thought.

If you want the truth, you need to work for it. You cannot treat the world like a Marvel movie where the good guy appears in a cape and the villain hisses on command. Real life does not give you a neat script with the moral wrapped up in two hours.

But that is how people are approaching politics now. They want the oppressed and the oppressor, the heroic underdog and the cartoon villain. They embrace this fantastical framing because it is easier than wrestling with reality.

This framing took root in the 1960s when the left rebuilt its worldview around colonizers and the colonized. Overnight, Zionism was recast as imperialism. Suddenly, every conflict had to fit the same script. Today’s young activists are just recycling the same narrative with updated graphics. Everything becomes a morality play. No nuance, no context, just the comforting clarity of heroes and villains.

Bad-faith questions

This same mindset is fueling the sudden obsession with Israel, and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee in particular. You hear it from members of Congress and activists alike: AIPAC pulls the strings, AIPAC controls the government, AIPAC should register as a foreign agent under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. The questions are dramatic, but are they being asked in good faith?

FARA is clear. The standard is whether an individual or group acts under the direction or control of a foreign government. AIPAC simply does not qualify.

Here is a detail conveniently left out of these arguments: Dozens of domestic organizations — Armenian, Cuban, Irish, Turkish — lobby Congress on behalf of other countries. None of them registers under FARA because — like AIPAC — they are independent, domestic organizations.

If someone has a sincere problem with the structure of foreign lobbying, fair enough. Let us have that conversation. But singling out AIPAC alone is not a search for truth. It is bias dressed up as bravery.

Anadolu / Contributor | Getty Images

If someone wants to question foreign aid to Israel, fine. Let’s have that debate. But let’s ask the right questions. The issue is not the size of the package but whether the aid advances our interests. What does the United States gain? Does the investment strengthen our position in the region? How does it compare to what we give other nations? And do we examine those countries with the same intensity?

The real target

These questions reflect good-faith scrutiny. But narrowing the entire argument to one country or one dollar amount misses the larger problem. If someone objects to the way America handles foreign aid, the target is not Israel. The target is the system itself — an entrenched bureaucracy, poor transparency, and decades-old commitments that have never been re-examined. Those problems run through programs around the world.

If you want answers, you need to broaden the lens. You have to be willing to put aside the movie script and confront reality. You have to hold yourself to a simple rule: Ask questions because you want the truth, not because you want a target.

That is the only way this country ever gets clarity on foreign aid, influence, alliances, and our place in the world. Questioning is not just allowed. It is essential. But only if it is honest.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A nation unravels when its shared culture is the first thing to go

Spencer Platt / Staff | Getty Images

Texas now hosts Quran-first academies, Sharia-compliant housing schemes, and rapidly multiplying mosques — all part of a movement building a self-contained society apart from the country around it.

It is time to talk honestly about what is happening inside America’s rapidly growing Muslim communities. In city after city, large pockets of newcomers are choosing to build insulated enclaves rather than enter the broader American culture.

That trend is accelerating, and the longer we ignore it, the harder it becomes to address.

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world.

America has always welcomed people of every faith and people from every corner of the world, but the deal has never changed: You come here and you join the American family. You are free to honor your traditions, keep your faith, but you must embrace the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. You melt into the shared culture that allows all of us to live side by side.

Across the country, this bargain is being rejected by Islamist communities that insist on building a parallel society with its own rules, its own boundaries, and its own vision for how life should be lived.

Texas illustrates the trend. The state now has roughly 330 mosques. At least 48 of them were built in just the last 24 months. The Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex alone has around 200 Islamic centers. Houston has another hundred or so. Many of these communities have no interest in blending into American life.

This is not the same as past waves of immigration. Irish, Italian, Korean, Mexican, and every other group arrived with pride in their heritage. Still, they also raised American flags and wanted their children to be part of the country’s future. They became doctors, small-business owners, teachers, and soldiers. They wanted to be Americans.

What we are watching now is not the melting pot. It is isolation by design.

Parallel societies do not end well

More than 300 fundamentalist Islamic schools now operate full-time across the country. Many use Quran-first curricula that require students to spend hours memorizing religious texts before they ever reach math or science. In Dallas, Brighter Horizons Academy enrolls more than 1,700 students and draws federal support while operating on a social model that keeps children culturally isolated.

Then there is the Epic City project in Collin and Hunt counties — 402 acres originally designated only for Muslim buyers, with Sharia-compliant financing and a mega-mosque at the center. After public outcry and state investigations, the developers renamed it “The Meadows,” but a new sign does not erase the original intent. It is not a neighborhood. It is a parallel society.

Americans should not hesitate to say that parallel societies are dangerous. Europe tried this experiment, and the results could not be clearer. In Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, entire neighborhoods now operate under their own cultural rules, some openly hostile to Western norms. When citizens speak up, they are branded bigots for asserting a basic right: the ability to live safely in their own communities.

A crisis of confidence

While this separation widens, another crisis is unfolding at home. A recent Gallup survey shows that about 40% of American women ages 18 to 39 would leave the country permanently if given the chance. Nearly half of a rising generation — daughters, sisters, soon-to-be mothers — no longer believe this nation is worth building a future in.

And who shapes the worldview of young boys? Their mothers. If a mother no longer believes America is home, why would her child grow up ready to defend it?

As Texas goes, so goes America. And as America goes, so goes the free world. If we lose confidence in our own national identity at the same time that we allow separatist enclaves to spread unchecked, the outcome is predictable. Europe is already showing us what comes next: cultural fracture, political radicalization, and the slow death of national unity.

Brandon Bell / Staff | Getty Images

Stand up and tell the truth

America welcomes Muslims. America defends their right to worship freely. A Muslim who loves the Constitution, respects the rule of law, and wants to raise a family in peace is more than welcome in America.

But an Islamist movement that rejects assimilation, builds enclaves governed by its own religious framework, and treats American law as optional is not simply another participant in our melting pot. It is a direct challenge to it. If we refuse to call this problem out out of fear of being called names, we will bear the consequences.

Europe is already feeling those consequences — rising conflict and a political class too paralyzed to admit the obvious. When people feel their culture, safety, and freedoms slipping away, they will follow anyone who promises to defend them. History has shown that over and over again.

Stand up. Speak plainly. Be unafraid. You can practice any faith in this country, but the supremacy of the Constitution and the Judeo-Christian moral framework that shaped it is non-negotiable. It is what guarantees your freedom in the first place.

If you come here and honor that foundation, welcome. If you come here to undermine it, you do not belong here.

Wake up to what is unfolding before the consequences arrive. Because when a nation refuses to say what is true, the truth eventually forces its way in — and by then, it is always too late.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.