outsourcing brutality to escape accountability
On Tyranny - Lesson 6
This essay is part of a 20-day project inspired by On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder.

Most governments, most of the time, seek to monopolize violence.
- Timothy Snyder | On Tyranny | Lesson 6
Paramilitary groups exist in the liminal space between official military structures and rogue enforcement squads, often wielding power outside of the rule of law while still serving the interests of those in control. I spent much of my career studying different paramilitary forces—from Boko Haram in Nigeria to the Janjaweed in Sudan, the FARC in Colombia, and Saddam Hussein’s Republican Guard in Iraq—because part of my job was to ensure that people who participated in these groups weren’t admitted into the United States. Participation in paramilitary activities is often grounds for asylum denial and inadmissibility for refugees.
It’s ironic because in the United States, we like to believe we’re different, that our security forces operate under the strict guidance of democratic principles. But the privatization of violence has long been part of our national fabric, from mercenaries deployed in warfare to private corporations running prisons and internment camps. The difference is that America prefers to outsource its brutality, paying companies to do what the government itself refuses to be held accountable for.
This isn’t new. American policing itself is rooted in local groups of white men who were tasked with tracking down enslaved people who had escaped, ensuring that property—human property—was returned to its rightful owner. Paramilitary groups are used by those in power to destabilize democratic elections, obstruct fair trials, and undermine the rule of law. The Ku Klux Klan (KKK) once operated as America's original paramilitary force, enforcing white supremacy through terror, intimidation, and violence.
That foundation, built on the ideology of exclusion and control, continues today in the way we see policing, imprisonment, and immigration enforcement. The past few weeks have made this clear as many of us have watched in horror as ICE agents, at the request of the Secretary of State, arrested a pro-Palestinian permanent resident for exercising his First Amendment rights, framing him as a threat to U.S. foreign policy, with other arrests imminent. We’ve also seen federal marshals forcibly remove civil servants from their offices for refusing to let members of DOGE into their offices. The line between government-sanctioned enforcement and politically motivated force has never been thinner.
I remember watching in horror as the January 6th insurrection unfolded on my screen, feeling my breath tighten as I saw elected representatives hiding behind chairs, being told to remove the congressional pins from their lapels so they would not be identified. January 6th wasn’t an anomaly—it was a warning. Now, 47 has pardoned every single one of those people, laying the groundwork for unwavering loyalty among those who are willing to use violence in his name.
This is how violence transforms from an atmosphere to a system—when insurrections, rallies, and the ideology of exclusion are not only tolerated but incorporated into the training of armed enforcers. We saw it when he first ran for office, using private security to remove opponents from rallies, encouraging supporters to take matters into their own hands. Now, the private paramilitary force he envisioned then is manifesting in the agencies meant to serve the public, reoriented toward one purpose: loyalty at all costs.
The moment we are in now isn’t just about increased violence—it is about who gets to wield that violence and against whom. The question is not whether paramilitaries exist in America—they always have. The question is whether we have the courage to dismantle them before it’s too late.
check out other essays in this series . . .





