Slotkin Defies Justice Dept: Democrats ‘Incite Sedition,’ Trump Says

Paul Riverbank, 2/7/2026Sen. Elissa Slotkin’s confrontation with the Justice Department over a controversial video spotlights the fault lines between legislative authority and executive power, raising urgent questions about political speech, civilian-military relations, and the resilience of democratic norms in turbulent times.

To some, it read as a principled warning at a fraught moment, a line in the sand. Others, especially Republicans, saw something more insidious—almost an incitement. There were murmurs of sedition. President Trump himself seized the opportunity, branding the video “sedition”—his tone, more prosecutor than president—and reminding his audience about the military’s harsh penalties for such offenses. Few missed the chill in his words: “Punishable by death.”

The Justice Department wasted little time. By December, their questions were out: Would the senators submit to voluntary interviews? Slotkin’s answer came quickly—no. “I did this to go on offense,” she told me in a moment of candor. That’s her stance: force the government to justify pursuing lawmakers who speak directly to troops, to make the DOJ’s motivations plain.

Enter Preet Bharara, a high-profile legal defender with his own history tangled in Trump-era showdowns. His letters, heavy with legal caution, landed at DOJ headquarters, warning not just of public scrutiny but lawsuits to come. For Bharara—and his clients—the fight isn’t just playing out in court. They want the public watching, too.

But with confrontation comes fallout. Slotkin’s family farm, not far from Lansing, received a bomb threat. Someone swatted her parents in the dead of night; her brother needed police protection for weeks. Each incident, she said, just sharpened her resolve. “If I shrink, it only invites more of the same.”

Meanwhile, the Pentagon set its gaze on Sen. Mark Kelly, another Democrat implicated in the video. The standoff has gripped both sides, leaving DOJ on a tightrope: issue subpoenas and escalate, or quietly retreat? Slotkin hasn’t closed the door to testimony—not if it’s compelled—but she’s clearly not eager. “I’d take a hard look at it,” she admits.

Political risks have come alongside legal ones. Kelly, for his part, parlayed the headlines into a fundraising windfall—over $12 million in the final months of 2025. It’s not lost on party strategists that Kelly and Slotkin, both survivors of tough races and vocal in their opposition to Trump’s approach, are now whispered about for 2028. Even before she delivered the Democratic response to Trump’s last address to Congress, Slotkin hinted at a broader mission—urging her party to play less defense, to “accept risk” as she has.

This isn’t just about courtrooms, or campaign coffers, or even the fractured relationships on Capitol Hill. The bigger question is one of boundaries—how far should civilian leaders go when speaking to soldiers? The line between needed oversight and dangerous meddling is as blurred now as ever. For some, the senators’ words were an overdue reminder that military loyalty is meant to law, not leaders. Others worry about the precedent of politicians, even ones with security clearances, counseling the rank-and-file in this way.

As the calendar churns forward, neither side is signaling retreat. Slotkin’s team says any new escalation will be met head-on. DOJ, for now, moves cautiously, mindful of the precedent—and the politics—in any confrontation with a sitting senator. It’s a high-wire act, and everyone involved seems to know: the trust between Congress, the military, and the Justice Department, already shaken, could come out stronger or more fractured, depending on who blinks first.

It started, as these things sometimes do, with a video—twenty-seven seconds of direct talk, grainy enough to feel urgent, pointed enough to set off alarms from Capitol Hill to the Pentagon. In it, Sen. Elissa Slotkin, a Michigan Democrat with a CIA background, and a handful of colleagues, faced the camera to tell America’s service members: if an order seems unlawful—don’t take it. “Stand up for our laws,” they urged, their message plainly shaped by persistent anxieties about the Trump White House’s approach to the military.To some, it read as a principled warning at a fraught moment, a line in the sand. Others, especially Republicans, saw something more insidious—almost an incitement. There were murmurs of sedition. President Trump himself seized the opportunity, branding the video “sedition”—his tone, more prosecutor than president—and reminding his audience about the military’s harsh penalties for such offenses. Few missed the chill in his words: “Punishable by death.”The Justice Department wasted little time. By December, their questions were out: Would the senators submit to voluntary interviews? Slotkin’s answer came quickly—no. “I did this to go on offense,” she told me in a moment of candor. That’s her stance: force the government to justify pursuing lawmakers who speak directly to troops, to make the DOJ’s motivations plain.Enter Preet Bharara, a high-profile legal defender with his own history tangled in Trump-era showdowns. His letters, heavy with legal caution, landed at DOJ headquarters, warning not just of public scrutiny but lawsuits to come. For Bharara—and his clients—the fight isn’t just playing out in court. They want the public watching, too.But with confrontation comes fallout. Slotkin’s family farm, not far from Lansing, received a bomb threat. Someone swatted her parents in the dead of night; her brother needed police protection for weeks. Each incident, she said, just sharpened her resolve. “If I shrink, it only invites more of the same.”Meanwhile, the Pentagon set its gaze on Sen. Mark Kelly, another Democrat implicated in the video. The standoff has gripped both sides, leaving DOJ on a tightrope: issue subpoenas and escalate, or quietly retreat? Slotkin hasn’t closed the door to testimony—not if it’s compelled—but she’s clearly not eager. “I’d take a hard look at it,” she admits.Political risks have come alongside legal ones. Kelly, for his part, parlayed the headlines into a fundraising windfall—over $12 million in the final months of 2025. It’s not lost on party strategists that Kelly and Slotkin, both survivors of tough races and vocal in their opposition to Trump’s approach, are now whispered about for 2028. Even before she delivered the Democratic response to Trump’s last address to Congress, Slotkin hinted at a broader mission—urging her party to play less defense, to “accept risk” as she has.This isn’t just about courtrooms, or campaign coffers, or even the fractured relationships on Capitol Hill. The bigger question is one of boundaries—how far should civilian leaders go when speaking to soldiers? The line between needed oversight and dangerous meddling is as blurred now as ever. For some, the senators’ words were an overdue reminder that military loyalty is meant to law, not leaders. Others worry about the precedent of politicians, even ones with security clearances, counseling the rank-and-file in this way.As the calendar churns forward, neither side is signaling retreat. Slotkin’s team says any new escalation will be met head-on. DOJ, for now, moves cautiously, mindful of the precedent—and the politics—in any confrontation with a sitting senator. It’s a high-wire act, and everyone involved seems to know: the trust between Congress, the military, and the Justice Department, already shaken, could come out stronger or more fractured, depending on who blinks first.