Dupont Circle isn’t some remote corner of Washington. It’s a hub — lined with embassies, think tanks, coffee shops, bookstores and crowded sidewalks. On any given day, you’ll find students debating politics over lattes, diplomats heading to meetings and activists gathering in the park that anchors the neighborhood.
This Sunday, I retired as a command sergeant major. In nearly three decades of wearing the uniform, I never carried a government-issued weapon into civilian spaces in the States. Even convoys between installations were tightly regulated. Civilians didn’t see us walking into Krispy Kreme or boarding public transit with pistols on our hips. What I saw last week didn’t resemble the disciplined Army I know.
That should unsettle us.
While no doubt these Guardsmen are proud patriots, they aren’t seasoned veterans. Most are teenagers, far from home, trained for battlefield tasks but not for the unpredictable realities of a major city. In D.C., much like most large cities, you don’t just encounter commuters. You encounter people in crisis — homelessness, addiction, untreated mental illness. A local might avert their eyes or walk around. But what happens when the person in crisis steps aggressively toward an 18-year-old with a pistol on his hip and limited training in de-escalation?
This is not what the Guard was built for. Its mission is to respond to disasters, provide logistical support and back up civil authorities — not to serve as an armed show of force on city streets. Yet that is how they are being deployed in the nation’s capital, as they were in Los Angeles earlier this summer.
The sight of troops with weapons patrolling sidewalks, boarding trains and standing post outside coffee shops has now spread from the nation’s second-largest city to the nation’s capital. What was once extraordinary is quietly being treated as routine.
That should alarm us all.
I’ve seen what that looks like in failed states abroad: checkpoints that divide neighborhoods, convoys that intimidate civilians, armed patrols that blur the line between protector and occupier. Those societies didn’t collapse overnight. They eroded slowly, as citizens became accustomed to soldiers carrying out tasks once reserved for police or community leaders. By the time people realized the cost, trust was gone.
Command Sgt. Maj. Eric Chastain is an adjunct professor at USC’s campus in Washington, where he teaches social analysis. He served as the Army’s first senior enlisted advisor in the White House.