Karoline Leavitt stands at the White House podium with a polished grin, a cross around her neck, and a prayer in her pocket. Each day, she steps out not as a servant of truth, but as a cheerleader for authoritarianism, defending lawlessness as law, cruelty as compassion, and power as divine right.
She tells deliberate lies, not out of fear, not to feed her family, not to stay alive, but by choice.
She is not like Goebbels’ press agents, who faced imprisonment or worse if they failed to obey. She is not like the mid-level functionaries of Putin or Orban, who navigate tightly controlled states where deviation is met with surveillance, blacklisting, or exile.
Karoline Leavitt is free. She is wealthy. She is married into privilege. She could work anywhere.
Yet she chooses to lie, to fawn over a convicted sexual abuser and felon, to mock due process. She chooses to defend the illegal deportation of asylum seekers to foreign prisons and
to brush off the weaponization of the Department of Justice like it’s no big deal.
She prays before her briefings, but her prayers serve no God of mercy. They are not calls for wisdom or humility. They are whispered contracts with a false idol, Donald Trump, whose crimes she wraps in the language of patriotism and sanctity. She invokes faith to sanctify cruelty, wears a cross while justifying concentration camps, and smirks through questions about human rights violations like it’s just another Tuesday.
Goebbels had his army of smiling apologists too. They stood in front of microphones, wearing rosaries and armbands, explaining away the atrocities as “order,” the oppression as “law,” and the murders as “security.”
And when the Reich fell, they fled, were tried, imprisoned, or faded into shameful obscurity. History remembered them not for their polish or piety but for their complicity.
Karoline Leavitt chooses complicity every day. She chooses the performance, the gaslighting. She chooses to call legal protections “abuse” and to call abuse “salvation.” She chooses to protect the golden calf instead of the Constitution.
She could have chosen decency, humanity, truth. But she didn’t.
And when this regime ends, as it will, history will not forget her. She will not be rehabilitated. She will not be respected. She will not be welcomed into the ranks of serious journalism, public service, or principled conservatism. No newsroom will touch her. No institution of integrity will hire her. No audience outside the dark corners of extremism will applaud her.
She will be remembered as a face of the fall. A willing servant of a lawless regime. A woman who could have done anything, and chose this.
