THE WASHINGTON UNION PAPERS: NO. 2

WHY AMERICA MUST RECLAIM ECONOMIC SOVEREIGNTY

To the People of the United States,

A nation that cannot command its own economy cannot claim to command its own future. A republic that depends upon the will of foreign markets, upon the machinations of corporate titans with no allegiance to its people, upon financial institutions that regard profit as their only flag, is not sovereign—it is subjugated. And yet, we have allowed ourselves to drift into this dependency, to surrender the levers of our own prosperity to the hands of those who neither toil in our fields nor labor in our factories nor invest in the well-being of our people. The wealth of our nation is extracted, our industries hollowed out, our workers discarded, and our economic future bartered away in the name of efficiency, in the name of globalization, in the name of a prosperity that seems to touch every hand but our own. This is not the promise upon which America was built. It is not the destiny to which we were called. It is the betrayal of a nation that once dared to be great.

Once, America was a land that built, that created, that forged prosperity from its own hands. Its factories roared, its workers thrived, and its industries led the world. To be made in America was to be made with excellence, with pride, with the knowledge that the labor of a free people was the foundation of a strong republic. But now, the hum of industry has quieted, the factories stand empty, and the middle class that once formed the backbone of our economy is weakened, burdened with debt, stripped of security, left to compete not on a fair playing field but against an economy that is rigged against them. This is the result of an economic order that places the interests of multinational corporations above those of the American worker, that permits foreign governments to dictate the terms of our prosperity, that allows speculative markets to gamble with the livelihoods of millions, and that treats economic dependence as an acceptable trade-off for cheaper goods and higher stock prices.

But let us be clear: A cheap product bought at the expense of national strength is no bargain. It is a short-sighted trade, an illusion of prosperity that masks the deeper erosion of a nation’s foundation. It is easy, in the moment, to see the savings in a price tag and think ourselves wealthier for it. It is easy to accept the assurances of economists who speak in abstractions, who measure prosperity not in livelihoods but in quarterly gains, who point to increased consumption as proof that all is well. But what is the true cost of these so-called bargains? What price do we pay when our industries vanish, when our wages stagnate, when the very fabric of our economic independence is unraveled thread by thread?

The hidden cost of a cheap product is not found at the register, nor in the balance sheets of the corporations that move their factories from one low-wage nation to the next in search of ever-cheaper labor. The cost is paid in shuttered factories, in workers displaced, in the slow decline of once-thriving communities left to wither in the absence of industry. The cost is borne by the small businesses that once catered to workers who now have no jobs, by the towns that can no longer sustain themselves, by the families who must stretch their wages thinner each year as their purchasing power dwindles. A nation does not grow rich by consuming alone; it grows rich by producing, by creating, by investing in itself. And yet, we have allowed ourselves to believe that consumption without production is sustainable, that we can import endlessly without consequence, that we can abandon our own industries and still call ourselves prosperous.

There is no dignity in dependency. A nation that does not produce what it needs is a nation at the mercy of those who do. We have allowed foreign interests, global markets, and multinational corporations to dictate the terms of our economy. We have outsourced not just our manufacturing but our self-sufficiency, handing over control of our supply chains to nations that do not share our interests, to economic competitors who see our decline as their opportunity. And then we wonder why, when crisis strikes, we find ourselves vulnerable, scrambling for essential goods that we should have been producing all along. We wonder why the costs of basic necessities skyrocket when supply chains falter. We wonder why the jobs that once built the American middle class have vanished, replaced not by new opportunities but by economic precarity and mounting debt. We wonder why the wealth of our nation is siphoned away, circulating not through the hands of American workers but through foreign economies that grow stronger as we grow weaker.

And yet, we are told that this is progress. That globalization has made us wealthier, that trade deals that shipped away our industries were inevitable, that we must embrace the world as it is rather than strive to shape it to our advantage. But who is "we" in this equation? The worker who has seen his wages decline while the cost of living soars? The entrepreneur who cannot compete against corporations that manufacture goods abroad with labor paid a fraction of what is needed to survive in this country? The young graduate burdened with debt, promised a bright future but met instead with stagnant wages and dwindling opportunities?

No, "we" are not the ones who have benefited from this system. "We" are the ones who have been left behind by it.

There is a lie at the heart of our economic decline, a lie told so often that many have come to accept it as truth: that the loss of our industries was inevitable, that the outsourcing of our jobs was the unavoidable price of modernity, that nothing could have been done to protect the American worker. But history tells us otherwise. Nations rise or fall by the choices they make, and we chose—our leaders chose—to trade away our industrial strength in exchange for short-term profits. They told us that free trade would lift all boats, that it would usher in a new era of prosperity, but they failed to mention that some would be left without boats at all, left to drown in the tide of economic displacement. They told us that cheaper goods would make up for lost wages, but they failed to account for the fact that a hollowed-out economy cannot sustain itself on cheap imports alone.

But here is the truth: This was never about economic inevitability. It was about priorities. It was about policy choices made by those who stood to benefit, about trade agreements that favored the wealthy while leaving the working class behind, about an economic ideology that placed the interests of global markets above the interests of the American people. And if these were choices, then they can be undone. If these were policies, then they can be rewritten. The question before us is not whether we have the ability to reclaim our economic sovereignty, but whether we have the will to do so. Whether we will continue to accept decline as our fate, or whether we will demand a return to an economy that serves the people who sustain it.

To reclaim what is rightfully ours, we must begin by rejecting the idea that our fate is beyond our control. We must understand that trade policies can be rewritten, that industries can be rebuilt, that economic power can be reclaimed. We must recognize that prosperity built upon dependency is not prosperity at all, but a ticking time bomb, one that leaves us vulnerable to the whims of foreign interests and the volatility of global markets. We must demand policies that put American workers first, that encourage domestic production, that ensure that the wealth generated within this country remains within this country. And above all, we must reject the lie that we are powerless to change course. For nations do not fall because they lack the means to rise—they fall because they lack the courage to stand. The choice before us is clear. Will we continue to accept the erosion of our economic sovereignty, or will we rise to reclaim what is rightfully ours?

The erosion of our economic sovereignty did not happen overnight. It was not forced upon us by some external conqueror. It was chosen. It was chosen by leaders who signed away our industrial power in exchange for promises of global markets that never materialized for the average worker. It was chosen by policymakers who deregulated the financial sector under the illusion that wealth at the top would inevitably lift those at the bottom. It was chosen by corporations that saw American workers not as the foundation of their success but as a cost to be minimized, a line on a balance sheet that could be replaced by foreign labor and automation without concern for the communities left behind. This was no accident. It was a decision—a series of decisions—that placed the economic fate of a nation in the hands of those who had no stake in its survival beyond their quarterly earnings reports.

And so, we find ourselves beholden to supply chains we do not control, dependent on industries we no longer own, and forced to accept the consequences of policies that have drained our wealth and sent it abroad. When a crisis strikes, we discover that our medical supplies, our microchips, our basic goods are produced not in the towns and cities of America but in the factories of nations whose interests do not align with our own. When inflation rises, we are told that we must accept it, that we must endure the economic instability caused by forces beyond our control, as though we had no say in the matter, as though our hands are tied by a global system that we ourselves allowed to be built. This is not sovereignty. This is servitude.

The solution to this crisis is not difficult to conceive, though it requires the political courage that has long been absent from our leadership. We must reclaim what was given away. We must rebuild what was abandoned. We must once again become a nation that produces, that manufactures, that invests in itself rather than in the enrichment of foreign economies and corporate shareholders. This means reinvesting in American industry, not with empty rhetoric, not with toothless policies, but with real, substantive action. It means ensuring that our trade policies favor the American worker rather than the multinational corporation. It means breaking the stranglehold that Wall Street has over our economic policy and returning power to the hands of those who build, who innovate, who work. It means rejecting the false choice between economic strength and fairness, between prosperity and dignity, for these things are not opposites—they are the foundation of a strong and just society.

There will be those who argue that such a course is impractical, that the global economy cannot be untangled, that the American worker must learn to compete in a race that has been rigged against them from the start. But such arguments are not made in the interests of the people. They are made in the interests of those who profit from the system as it is, who benefit from the erosion of national strength, who see in economic dependence not a weakness but an opportunity. We reject this. We reject the notion that our fate must be dictated by forces beyond our control. We reject the idea that our best days are behind us. We reject the lie that sovereignty must be sacrificed for prosperity when the reality is that true prosperity cannot exist without sovereignty.

If we are to reclaim our economic independence, we must act with urgency. We must demand policies that favor the American worker over foreign competition, that encourage domestic production rather than outsourcing, that hold accountable those who seek to extract wealth from this nation while contributing nothing to its future. We must recognize that economic strength is national strength, and that a government which allows its people to be made economically dependent on others is a government that has failed in its most fundamental duty.

A nation that does not own its economy does not own its destiny. It becomes subject to forces beyond its control, held captive by decisions made in boardrooms and foreign capitals rather than in the halls of its own government. It drifts, unmoored, no longer shaping the future but being shaped by it, no longer forging its own prosperity but waiting, hoping, grasping for whatever opportunities remain after others have taken their share. This is not the mark of a sovereign people. This is not the mark of a republic that once prided itself on self-reliance, on ingenuity, on the power of its own industry. It is, rather, the mark of a nation that has surrendered—perhaps not in war, perhaps not with arms raised in defeat, but in something far quieter and, in some ways, far more insidious. It is the slow surrender of self-sufficiency, the passive relinquishment of power, the willingness to accept decline rather than fight for renewal.

And yet, let no one say that this is a fate already sealed. Let no one claim that the course we are on cannot be reversed, that our industries cannot be rebuilt, that our workers cannot be empowered, that our economy must forever remain a thing dictated by outside hands. For the truth is that every great nation, every empire, every civilization that has ever stood at the precipice of decline has had a choice: to accept its fall or to fight against it. And history does not remember kindly those who accepted their own demise as though it were written in the stars. History is made by those who refuse, by those who stand, by those who understand that the will of a people is greater than the weight of circumstance.

We do not lack the tools to reclaim our prosperity. We do not lack the resources, nor the minds, nor the hands to rebuild what has been lost. We lack only the will—the political courage to do what must be done, the public demand that cannot be ignored, the unwavering insistence that we will no longer be a nation whose economy is dictated by those who see in it only profit and not people. If our industries have been allowed to decay, then let us build new ones. If our workers have been abandoned, then let us fight for them. If our wealth has been siphoned away, then let us bring it home—not as an act of nostalgia, not as an exercise in mere economic nationalism, but as a declaration that this nation will not stand idle while others shape its fate.

There will be those who scoff at such ambitions, who say that the world has changed, that America cannot return to an era of industrial dominance, that we must accept the realities of a globalized economy where power is dispersed and no nation can truly be independent. But to them, we must ask: Why is it that other nations can shape their own economic destinies while we are told that we cannot? Why is it that China, that Germany, that South Korea can invest in their industries, protect their workers, ensure their prosperity, while we are told to settle for dependence? Why is it that our leaders, our so-called experts, our economists speak of limitations where others see possibilities? The truth is not that we cannot reclaim our economic sovereignty—the truth is that those in power have chosen not to. The truth is that those who benefit from our economic dependence would rather see this nation stagnate than risk their own fortunes. And the truth is that we do not have to accept this.

America has always been strongest when it has seized its own future. When we built the greatest industrial economy the world had ever seen, we did not do so by outsourcing our labor and relying on foreign supply chains. When we became the arsenal of democracy, we did not do so by waiting for others to provide us with the tools of our own survival. When we put a man on the moon, we did not look to foreign expertise, to imported talent, to global cooperation—we looked to ourselves, to our workers, to our engineers, to the boundless ambition of a people who believed that no challenge was too great. And if we were capable of such things then, if we were capable of remaking the world in the image of our ingenuity, of achieving the impossible time and time again, then let no one say that we are incapable of reclaiming what is ours. Let no one say that we must resign ourselves to being a nation that buys what it once built, that imports what it once created, that begs for prosperity where it once commanded it.

Let no one say that we are destined for decline, for decline is not destiny—it is a choice. It is the slow unraveling of ambition, the passive acceptance of decay, the surrender to forces that grow stronger only when we refuse to resist them. Decline is not the product of inevitability; it is the result of complacency, of leadership that no longer believes in the possibility of renewal, of a people told so often that their best days are behind them that they begin to believe it. But belief is a powerful thing. A nation does not fail because it lacks resources, nor because it lacks ingenuity, nor because it lacks people willing to labor for a better future. It fails when its people are convinced that effort is futile, that strength has passed from their hands, that they are no longer the masters of their own fate.

Let no one mistake the trials of this moment for the death of the American experiment. Let no one confuse hardship for finality. We have faced crises before—crises of war, of economy, of leadership—and each time, this nation has risen to the challenge. We have rebuilt before. We have reinvented before. We have, time and again, seized upon the very moments that seemed most dire and transformed them into foundations for greater prosperity. This moment is no different. The path before us is not shrouded in mystery, nor is it blocked by insurmountable obstacles. The only thing required of us is the willingness to take it.

The history of this nation is not a history of resignation. It is not a history of watching, of waiting, of yielding to the tides of economic misfortune. It is a history of builders, of laborers, of visionaries who did not ask permission to create a better world, but who took it upon themselves to do so. And now, we are called to do the same. If we are told that our manufacturing cannot return, we must reject that lie and build it again. If we are told that our workers cannot compete, we must invest in them until they lead the world. If we are told that we are no longer capable of standing at the forefront of industry, we must stand taller, work harder, and prove that we can.

Let no one say that we are destined for decline. Let no one dare whisper that the best of America has passed. For it is not written in the fabric of this land that we must fade. It is not written in the hearts of our people that they will submit. And it is not written in the destiny of this nation that we will fall. If there is any certainty, any truth that must be spoken into the world, it is this: We will not accept the fate others have written for us. We will not shrink before the challenges ahead. And we will not watch as the legacy of those who came before us is traded away for temporary gain.

If we are to reclaim our economy, our strength, our future, then we must first reclaim our belief in ourselves. A nation only declines when it consents to decline. And America does not consent.

The choice before us is clear. We can continue down this path, continue to watch as the wealth of this nation is siphoned away, as our workers are abandoned, as our industries decay, as our economy becomes little more than a servant to foreign interests. We can continue to pretend that this is the natural order of things, that the people of this nation must simply endure economic insecurity while the wealthy few reap the rewards of their labor. We can continue to do nothing. Or we can act. We can demand a government that prioritizes American industry over corporate profit, American workers over foreign shareholders, American prosperity over economic dependence. We can demand policies that rebuild what was lost, that secure what remains, that strengthen what has been weakened. We can demand that those who lead this nation do so not as managers of decline, but as architects of resurgence.

And if we do—if we choose strength over submission, if we choose to reclaim our sovereignty rather than watch it slip away—then we will not only restore what was lost, but we will build something greater than we have ever known. We will not merely revive the industries of old, but create the industries of the future. We will not merely stabilize wages, but lift them to heights that reflect the true worth of American labor. We will not merely participate in the global economy, but lead it, shape it, define it in terms that serve our people rather than diminish them. This is not a fantasy. This is not a dream beyond reach. This is the task that lies before us, if only we have the courage to take it up.

The future belongs to those who seize it. The question is whether we will be among them. The answer must be yes. The answer must always be yes. But let us not only speak of change—let us embody it. Let us reject the half-measures of the past and demand nothing less than the full restoration of American economic might. Let us rekindle the spirit of industry, not as a memory, but as a living force, one that will lift this nation from the depths of dependency and return it to the heights of prosperity. Let us work, let us build, let us reclaim what is rightfully ours. The time is now, and the work is ours to do.