Slotkin Defies Trump, Refuses DOJ Inquiry into ‘Seditious’ Military Video

Paul Riverbank, 2/6/2026Senator Slotkin defies DOJ inquiry, igniting a fierce national debate over free speech and dissent.

The video was blunt. Slotkin and her colleagues told those in uniform that if they ever received orders they believed to be unlawful, they had a duty to resist. The words were deliberate, sidestepping coded language for a message anyone could grasp. What followed, though, made the intended audience look almost secondary. Within hours, the White House seized on the clip. President Trump labeled the six “traitors”—a word dripping with historical weight—and posted the charge online for millions. Even graver, he called their behavior “seditious, punishable by death.” Soon, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth was talking about demoting Arizona’s Senator Mark Kelly and stripping away his security clearance. The Justice Department and FBI wasted little time, launching a formal inquiry.

For some watching from the outside, this whole sequence might have carried a sense of déjà vu—American politics has lately specialized in public reckonings that leave basic constitutional values up for debate. But Senator Slotkin was unmoved. Instead of issuing a cautious denial or disappearing behind tightly-worded statements, she went public. On X (the app formerly known as Twitter), Slotkin fired back: “The FBI and Department of Justice opened up an inquiry on me in response to the president’s tweets. But at this point, I’m not going to be sitting down for this inquiry. I’m not going to legitimize their actions.” For her, this was about drawing a line—refusing to accept what she views as an attempt to punish dissent.

She hasn’t gone silent either. In fact, Slotkin’s stance is about as transparent as it gets. “Our constitution is crystal clear on the issue of freedom of speech, something worth fighting for.” She’s turned the incident into an object lesson, standing on the First Amendment as others might stand on a shield. From her perspective, this isn’t about national security in any practical sense—she sees it as a warning shot to lawmakers and the public: criticize the president or hint at nonconformity, and there will be consequences.

Slotkin shared a glimpse of the private pressures that come with the territory. “To be honest, many lawyers told me to just be quiet, keep my head down, and hopefully this will all just go away.” The advice is familiar enough to anyone who’s spent time around Washington—don’t draw attention, don’t antagonize power, let the storm pass. It’s what she says next that frames the stakes: “But that’s exactly what the Trump administration and Jeanine Pirro want.” In her view, the real goal of the inquiry is to send a message—one that chills not only speech but political opposition itself. “The intimidation is the point, and I’m not going to go along with that.”

As for the agencies at the heart of the inquiry—the Department of Justice and the FBI—they’ve stayed quiet so far. Silence from law enforcement, though, rarely quiets public debate. Across cable news, editorial pages, and dinner tables, the country split into those who see the lawmakers’ video as reckless, perhaps even treacherous—breaking faith with the military—and those who believe the investigation poses a real danger to free expression and democratic dissent. Disagreements drew blood: “Americans trust their military. But that trust is at risk,” one commentator remarked last week. Yet, the more unsettling question lingers underneath: Who truly gets to decide which orders are just, which dissent is patriotic, and when presidential power goes too far?

Slotkin’s refusal to cooperate with the DOJ inquiry turns up the heat on these questions. She’s put herself at the center of a story that asks whether free speech is defended in court, the press, or—increasingly—in the digital town square. Trust in institutions feels as if it’s on a knife’s edge. The consequences aren’t abstract: they will ripple through the halls of Congress, the algorithms of social media, and the judgment of neighbors and friends.

How history will judge this episode is tough to say. Was the video a bold stand for democratic principles or a dangerous gambit that challenged the chain of command? For now, it depends on who you ask, and what news they trust. But if one thing is clear, it’s that in this unsettled era, democracy often feels as fragile—and as fiercely contested—as ever.

On a chilly November morning, when the Capitol’s halls echoed with the usual blend of ambition and uncertainty, six Democratic lawmakers decided to speak directly to America’s service members. Among them, Senator Elissa Slotkin of Michigan—no stranger to icy political waters—hit "record" on a video that would soon ignite fireworks well beyond Congress.The video was blunt. Slotkin and her colleagues told those in uniform that if they ever received orders they believed to be unlawful, they had a duty to resist. The words were deliberate, sidestepping coded language for a message anyone could grasp. What followed, though, made the intended audience look almost secondary. Within hours, the White House seized on the clip. President Trump labeled the six “traitors”—a word dripping with historical weight—and posted the charge online for millions. Even graver, he called their behavior “seditious, punishable by death.” Soon, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth was talking about demoting Arizona’s Senator Mark Kelly and stripping away his security clearance. The Justice Department and FBI wasted little time, launching a formal inquiry.For some watching from the outside, this whole sequence might have carried a sense of déjà vu—American politics has lately specialized in public reckonings that leave basic constitutional values up for debate. But Senator Slotkin was unmoved. Instead of issuing a cautious denial or disappearing behind tightly-worded statements, she went public. On X (the app formerly known as Twitter), Slotkin fired back: “The FBI and Department of Justice opened up an inquiry on me in response to the president’s tweets. But at this point, I’m not going to be sitting down for this inquiry. I’m not going to legitimize their actions.” For her, this was about drawing a line—refusing to accept what she views as an attempt to punish dissent.She hasn’t gone silent either. In fact, Slotkin’s stance is about as transparent as it gets. “Our constitution is crystal clear on the issue of freedom of speech, something worth fighting for.” She’s turned the incident into an object lesson, standing on the First Amendment as others might stand on a shield. From her perspective, this isn’t about national security in any practical sense—she sees it as a warning shot to lawmakers and the public: criticize the president or hint at nonconformity, and there will be consequences.Slotkin shared a glimpse of the private pressures that come with the territory. “To be honest, many lawyers told me to just be quiet, keep my head down, and hopefully this will all just go away.” The advice is familiar enough to anyone who’s spent time around Washington—don’t draw attention, don’t antagonize power, let the storm pass. It’s what she says next that frames the stakes: “But that’s exactly what the Trump administration and Jeanine Pirro want.” In her view, the real goal of the inquiry is to send a message—one that chills not only speech but political opposition itself. “The intimidation is the point, and I’m not going to go along with that.”As for the agencies at the heart of the inquiry—the Department of Justice and the FBI—they’ve stayed quiet so far. Silence from law enforcement, though, rarely quiets public debate. Across cable news, editorial pages, and dinner tables, the country split into those who see the lawmakers’ video as reckless, perhaps even treacherous—breaking faith with the military—and those who believe the investigation poses a real danger to free expression and democratic dissent. Disagreements drew blood: “Americans trust their military. But that trust is at risk,” one commentator remarked last week. Yet, the more unsettling question lingers underneath: Who truly gets to decide which orders are just, which dissent is patriotic, and when presidential power goes too far?Slotkin’s refusal to cooperate with the DOJ inquiry turns up the heat on these questions. She’s put herself at the center of a story that asks whether free speech is defended in court, the press, or—increasingly—in the digital town square. Trust in institutions feels as if it’s on a knife’s edge. The consequences aren’t abstract: they will ripple through the halls of Congress, the algorithms of social media, and the judgment of neighbors and friends.How history will judge this episode is tough to say. Was the video a bold stand for democratic principles or a dangerous gambit that challenged the chain of command? For now, it depends on who you ask, and what news they trust. But if one thing is clear, it’s that in this unsettled era, democracy often feels as fragile—and as fiercely contested—as ever.