It’s official: Greg Abbott has discovered a new frontier in hypocrisy. On a crisp October morning, Texans awoke to the news that their governor had dispatched National Guard troops—not to guard the Texas border, not to respond to a hurricane, not even to escort Ted Cruz home from Cancun—but to Chicago. Against Illinois’ wishes. Against the very idea of state sovereignty. Against, you know, the entire “United” in United States.
And here’s the kicker: Abbott is marketing it as patriotism. As law and order. As Texas grit exported like brisket to the Midwest. What it actually is: an invasion. Let’s call it what it is. This is not assistance, not cooperation, not “boots on the ground.” This is one governor deciding he owns the National Guard the way Elon Musk owns questionable business ventures, and redeploying them as his private army across state lines.
The Confederacy would be proud. The Constitution, not so much.
“States’ Rights” for Me, But Not for Thee
Republicans have spent decades shrieking about “states’ rights.” Every time a Democrat sneezes near a statehouse, conservatives claim tyranny. Mask mandates? States’ rights! EPA pollution standards? States’ rights! Healthcare? States’ rights!
But apparently when it comes to Texas parking Humvees on Chicago’s streets, “states’ rights” vanish faster than Abbott’s interest in keeping his own electrical grid functional.
Imagine if Gavin Newsom decided to send California’s National Guard to Houston during the next blackout. Imagine the outrage. Fox News would declare it a socialist coup. Laura Ingraham would accuse San Francisco vegans of marching into Texas with oat milk weapons. Hannity would demand airstrikes.
But when Abbott does it? Suddenly it’s patriotic. Suddenly it’s about “law and order.” Suddenly we’re all supposed to clap like trained seals while Texas soldiers eat deep dish pizza on Kedzie Avenue.
Remember When Abbott Screamed About Biden?
Let’s rewind. It wasn’t so long ago that President Biden tried to pull Reserve Air Force personnel to serve in the new Space Force. Abbott pitched a fit. He thundered about sovereignty, about Texas’ control over its military resources, about “federal overreach.” You would’ve thought Biden was drafting Texas toddlers to clean solar panels on Mars.
But now? Abbott thinks it’s perfectly fine to override Illinois’ governor and send his troops north like it’s 1861 all over again. Apparently when it’s a Democrat in charge, military redeployments are tyranny. But when it’s a Republican, it’s “courage.” When Biden does it, it’s unconstitutional. When Abbott does it, it’s leadership.
This is not policy. This is cosplay.
If It Looks Like an Invasion and Walks Like an Invasion…
Let’s not mince words. Texas sent armed men into another state, without the consent of that state’s government. That is literally the definition of invasion.
Greg Abbott has become the geopolitical equivalent of that neighbor who lets himself into your house with a spare key “just to check on things” and helps himself to your fridge. Except instead of eating your leftovers, he brought soldiers and Humvees.
The Republican Party—remember them? The ones who brand themselves as the defenders of liberty, the champions of small government, the protectors of “states’ rights”? Those Republicans are now applauding as one state rolls its tanks into another.
Civil War Chic
Let’s talk aesthetics. Civil wars don’t always begin with cannon fire. Sometimes they start with paperwork and National Guard deployments wrapped in euphemisms. Abbott didn’t announce “We’re invading Illinois.” He announced “We’re sending support to help fight crime.” That’s how it always starts. With noble-sounding rationales. With euphemisms. With flags waving.
It’s civil war cosplay. It’s Confederate nostalgia packaged as law enforcement. It’s Jefferson Davis meets Instagram reels.
Abbott’s move isn’t just unconstitutional. It’s theatrical. It’s designed to create a showdown between governors. Between states. Between red and blue. And every time we treat it as “just politics,” we normalize the idea that armed state militias can cross borders at will.
Flip the Script
Imagine, just for one second, that Joe Biden had sent National Guard troops from Delaware to Texas. The screams would be audible from space. Republicans would call it tyranny, dictatorship, martial law. They’d be in front of cameras, screaming about the sacred right of Texas to govern itself. They’d call for impeachment, secession, maybe both.
So why is it different when Abbott does it? Because hypocrisy is the glue that holds the GOP together. “Principle” is just a word they use until it’s inconvenient. States’ rights are sacred until they want to stomp on another state. Constitutional limits are holy until they get in the way of Abbott’s stunt calendar.
Chicago, Meet Texas Hospitality
Picture it: Texas National Guard troops rolling down 79th Street. Locals asking, “Who invited you?” Troops replying, “We’re here to help.” It’s colonialism in cowboy hats.
And let’s be honest: Texas is hardly in a position to play savior. This is a state that can’t keep its power grid running in the winter, can’t manage a women’s healthcare system without a lawsuit, can’t provide drinking water in half its rural counties. Texas “helping” Chicago is like a guy whose car is on cinder blocks volunteering to fix your transmission.
Abbott’s Fantasy: The President of Texas
This is the real game. Abbott wants to be seen not as a governor, but as the commander of his own nation-state. Deploying the Guard outside his borders is a show of force, a flex, a signal that he answers not to the Constitution, not to federal law, not even to precedent—but only to his ambitions.
It’s a power grab wrapped in a cowboy hat. A campaign ad disguised as a military maneuver. A reminder that Abbott’s primary loyalty is to the cult of spectacle, not to the rule of law.
History Repeats First as Farce, Then as Texan Policy
Let’s not forget: the last time states thought it was okay to deploy armed forces against each other, it didn’t end well. They called it the Civil War. It killed 600,000 people.
Now Abbott thinks he can reenact the opening act, but with better PR. He’s betting Americans are too distracted, too divided, too tired to notice the precedent being set. He’s betting that if he cloaks it in the language of crime-fighting, no one will dare call it what it is: an armed incursion.
But the rest of us can see it plainly. This is not a partnership. It’s not law enforcement. It’s not federalism. It’s a governor cosplaying as a general.
Why It Matters
If Abbott gets away with this, what’s next? Florida sending the Guard to California to stop drag brunches? Oklahoma dispatching troops to New York because they don’t like their school curriculum? Alabama occupying Atlanta because it voted blue?
This is not a slippery slope. It’s a greased slide. Once governors believe they can deploy troops across borders at will, the fragile fabric of the union unravels. The United States becomes fifty armed fiefdoms, each with its own militia, each asserting power beyond its borders. That’s not federalism. That’s feudalism.
The Abbott Doctrine: Hypocrisy with Extra Barbecue Sauce
Greg Abbott’s governing philosophy is simple: whatever Democrats do is tyranny, whatever Republicans do is liberty. When Biden tries to reassign reserves, it’s dictatorship. When Abbott deploys troops into Chicago, it’s freedom.
Abbott is betting Americans won’t notice the hypocrisy. But they will. They always do. The only question is whether we’ll care enough to stop him before this reality show turns into an actual war.
Curtain Call
Texas sending National Guard troops into Chicago is not a “law enforcement action.” It is not “help.” It is not “partnership.” It is an invasion. It is a violation of Illinois’ sovereignty. It is the precise opposite of “states’ rights.” And it is an open rehearsal for the kind of internal conflict this country swore never to repeat.
Greg Abbott doesn’t want to be governor. He wants to be generalissimo. He wants to turn Texas into a nation-state with its own foreign policy. And if he has to use Chicago as his testing ground, so be it.
Republicans once swore that they stood for the Constitution. For liberty. For federalism. Today, they stand for nothing but power. And the rest of us are left watching, asking whether anyone still remembers the part of history where states sending troops across borders was the literal definition of civil war.
When States Forget They’re States
History will not look kindly on this moment. It will see a governor testing the limits of democracy, a party applauding the violation of its own principles, and a nation too weary to call it by its true name: an invasion.
And someday, when Abbott writes his memoir, he’ll probably frame it as courage, as leadership, as Texas grit. But the rest of us will remember it for what it was: a stunt, a power grab, and a warning.
Because if this can happen in Chicago today, it can happen anywhere tomorrow.