Act 1: Foundations and Fault Lines

In a quiet chateau nestled in the green hills of Auvergne, a boy was born into a name older than most nations. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier—known simply as Gilbert to those who loved him—would grow to be one of history’s most celebrated revolutionaries. But from the very start, Lafayette's world was one of contradictions.

He was born into nobility, yet surrounded by stories of poverty and loss. His father, a decorated grenadier, was killed by a British cannonball before Lafayette ever saw his face. His mother, devastated by grief, fled to Paris, leaving young Gilbert to be raised by his stern but kind grandmother in the countryside. She taught him duty, discipline, and stories of battlefield glory. Under the watchful eyes of abbés and aristocrats, Lafayette soaked in the values of the French Enlightenment. Reason, liberty, the rights of man—these became the drumbeat of his youth.

But knowledge alone doesn’t make a man wise.

From the halls of Paris to the salons of Versailles, Lafayette learned to charm and maneuver. He married Adrienne de Noailles, a fourteen-year-old girl from one of France’s most powerful families. At sixteen, Lafayette was rich, married, and well on his way to joining the king’s elite guard. But behind the courtly elegance, something restless stirred in his heart. He longed for purpose—glory, as he called it. The kind that would echo through time.

So when whispers of rebellion across the Atlantic reached his ears, he was enthralled. America, a land fighting for liberty against the British—the very empire that had taken his father—became an obsession. Even when King Louis XVI forbade it, Lafayette defied him, sneaking across the sea to join George Washington’s struggling army.

From a worldly point of view, it was heroic. A young man leaving behind wealth, a pregnant wife, and privilege to fight for strangers. But beneath the idealism, there was a flaw—a subtle one, but dangerous.

Lafayette believed that man could save himself.

Through reason. Through revolution. Through liberty unanchored from any higher truth.

He didn’t yet understand what the Bible makes clear: that the heart of man is “deceitful above all things” (Jeremiah 17:9), and that liberty without virtue is just another form of chaos. Lafayette loved the idea of freedom, but he lacked a framework that could keep that freedom from becoming an idol. He was, in many ways, a knight in search of a cause—but without a compass pointing to God's moral order.

While Lafayette crossed the Atlantic in search of glory, Adrienne was left behind in Paris, pregnant and alone. She received glowing letters—tales of cannons and courage—but little concern for her own trials. She had married a boy still chasing the ghost of a father he barely knew.

In America, Lafayette was welcomed… reluctantly. The Continental Congress had seen too many glory-seeking Europeans hoping to play general. At first, they dismissed him. But when Lafayette offered to serve without pay, and when they read letters of praise from Benjamin Franklin, they reconsidered. Lafayette was given the honorary title of major-general—though he would command no troops.

He met George Washington soon after, and an unexpected friendship blossomed. Washington, a man of discipline and restraint, took the fiery Frenchman under his wing. Lafayette found in Washington a father figure, and in the American cause, a sense of belonging.

But even as Lafayette fought bravely in battle—earning respect and even suffering wounds—he never stopped chasing applause. And back in France, Adrienne suffered silently, raising children alone, enduring gossip about Lafayette’s rumored mistresses, and using her influence to protect his reputation.

She loved him. He often forgot to love her in return.

The story of Lafayette was already being written in two parallel threads: the public hero, adored on two continents, and the private man, blind to the cost others paid for his ambitions.

Even his noblest efforts—his fight for liberty, his calls to end slavery, his dreams of global reform—were built on a foundation that was subtly cracked.

He believed, as many Enlightenment thinkers did, that humanity was basically good, that progress was inevitable, and that the right ideas could fix the world.

But history—and Scripture—tell a different story.

"Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain." (Psalm 127:1)

Lafayette’s foundation was bold. But it wasn’t biblical.

And the storm was coming.

Let me know if you're ready for Act 2: Fallout and Fractures. It will dive into the French Revolution, betrayal from both sides, Adrienne’s suffering, and the unraveling of Lafayette’s ideals.

Act 2: Fallout and Fractures

The smell of smoke lingered in the Paris air. The Bastille had fallen. The people roared. The king trembled. And in the center of it all stood Lafayette—beloved by some, cursed by others, and no longer sure who he truly was.

Act I: Foundations and Fault Lines

Thomas Woodrow Wilson was born in 1856 into a deeply religious Southern Presbyterian family. His father, Joseph Ruggles Wilson, was a respected minister and educator. His mother, Janet—called Jessie—was a devoted Scottish churchwoman. From the outside, the Wilson home seemed soaked in Scripture and tradition, but beneath the surface, a different foundation was quietly forming.

As a boy, “Tommy” Wilson was clever but struggled to read until age twelve—what today might be considered dyslexia. Still, he grew to admire ideas and institutions more than people. Though he spent his childhood in the Confederate South during the Civil War, the conflict seemed to leave little mark on him emotionally. His loyalties remained Southern, though, and he absorbed the white supremacist thinking that had gripped post-war Democratic circles.

America is standing at the edge of a political earthquake. It’s not just about one executive order, one census, or one round of redistricting. What’s unfolding is the culmination of decades of partisan maneuvering, demographic shifts, and constitutional disputes (and the results could permanently change the balance of power in Washington).

At the center of the storm is a startling admission: the U.S. Census Bureau overcounted several Democrat-leaning states in 2020, while undercounting Republican-leaning states. According to the Bureau’s own post-enumeration survey, these errors handed Democrats an estimated five extra congressional seats (and the electoral college votes that go with them) at the direct expense of red states like Florida and Texas.

Even more frustrating to many Americans, the Bureau insists the “oops” must stand until the next census numbers are applied in 2032. That’s nearly a decade of political power built on faulty data.

Trump’s Bold Countermove

President Donald J. Trump has decided that’s unacceptable. On August 7, 2025, he instructed the Commerce Department to conduct a new, highly accurate mid-decade census (one that excludes illegal aliens from the population count used for congressional apportionment and electoral college allocation).

Trump’s rationale rests on both constitutional and practical grounds. The Constitution requires an “actual Enumeration,” not statistical guesswork, and certainly not a count that inflates the representation of states with large populations of non-citizens. Under this new approach, red states like Texas and Florida could gain multiple seats, while blue strongholds like California, New York, and Illinois could see their delegations shrink.

Analysts estimate that excluding illegal aliens from the count could shift up to 14 seats from blue states to red states. California alone might lose four House seats. Florida and Texas could each gain four. The ripple effects on the Electoral College would be seismic, potentially locking Democrats out of a 270-vote path even if they won every “blue wall” state.

The Hypocrisy of Gerrymandering

While Democrats howl that this is an “attack on democracy,” they’ve long played the very same game in reverse. In fact, some of the most egregious gerrymanders in modern history exist in deep-blue states:

• Massachusetts: Republicans make up 36% of voters but hold zero congressional seats.

• Connecticut: 42% Republican, zero seats.

• Maine: 46% Republican, zero seats.

• New Mexico: 46% Republican, zero seats.

• New Hampshire: 48% Republican, zero seats.

• Rhode Island: 42% Republican, zero seats.

• Vermont: 32% Republican, zero seats.

• Hawaii: 38% Republican, zero seats.

• Delaware: 42% Republican, zero seats.

Even in states where Republicans do hold seats, the imbalance is stark:

• California: 38% Republican voters, but just 9 of 52 seats (20.9%).

• Illinois: 44% Republican voters, but only 3 of 17 seats (17.6%).

• Maryland: 34% Republican voters, but just 1 of 8 seats (12.5%).

• Oregon: 41% Republican voters, but only 1 of 6 seats (16.7%).

This disparity is no accident. Blue states have systematically drawn maps to wipe out Republican representation. Now that red states are returning the favor, Democrats are discovering they have no room left to retaliate… they’ve already maxed out their own partisan advantages.

Texas as the Flashpoint

The battle has been especially fierce in Texas. After Democrat lawmakers fled the state to block legislation, Governor Greg Abbott and Attorney General Ken Paxton moved aggressively. Arrest warrants were issued for runaway legislators, and GOP lawmakers openly discussed increasing Republican representation with each week Democrats refused to return.

Under the Supreme Court’s 2019 Rucho v. Common Cause decision, partisan gerrymandering is a “political question” beyond federal court jurisdiction (meaning states can draw districts however they see fit). Red states are seizing that opportunity to counter decades of Democrat-drawn maps in blue territory.

The Bigger Picture

What’s happening now isn’t just about maps, or census methodology, or one executive order. It’s about a political realignment that could define American governance for a generation. By excluding non-citizens from the count and aggressively redrawing districts, Republicans could secure a structural advantage in both Congress and the Electoral College that Democrats would be hard-pressed to overcome.

Democrats have long argued these tactics undermine democracy. But as even some liberal commentators admit, they’ve been using the exact same tactics in their own states for years (and in many cases, more aggressively than Republicans ever did).

The irony is inescapable: the party that perfected the art of gerrymandering and census manipulation is now on the receiving end of its own playbook.

If the trends hold, the 2026 midterms could deliver a decisive shift in power… not just for the next Congress, but for decades to come.