Thoughts on the 250th Year of the Adoption of the Declaration of Independence

Emanuel Leutze's painting Washington Crossing the Delaware

Washington Crossing the Delaware, by Emanuel Leutze

As I reflect on 250 years of American independence, the weight of that anniversary feels profoundly personal, woven into the fabric of my family’s story. My ancestors answered the Lexington Alarm in April 1775, leaving their farms at a moment’s notice when the call went out that British troops were marching on Concord. From those first shots that “were heard round the world,” they stood among the minutemen, shouldering muskets and risking everything, like their grandparents did in 1689, for the radical idea that ordinary people could govern themselves. To me, today is not just a date on the calendar; it is living proof that Liberty is never guaranteed but that it must be defended by citizens willing to rise at dawn and march toward uncertainty. Their courage at the Alarm reminds me that independence began not in grand declarations but in humble, determined acts of defiance.

Through the long years of war that followed, my forebears carried that commitment from Bunker Hill, through the frozen trenches of Valley Forge, to the decisive fields of Yorktown. They endured supply shortages, disease, and the constant shadow of defeat, yet they persisted because they believed in a future where their children would inherit a nation free from tyranny. By the time the Treaty of Paris was signed in 1783, formally recognizing American sovereignty, they had helped transform thirteen fractious colonies into a sovereign republic. For me, this arc, from Alarm to treaty, embodies the meaning of independence as a hard-won covenant across generations. It is the knowledge that my blood carries the memory of sacrifice, teaching me that freedom demands vigilance, resilience, and an unshakable faith in self-government even when the odds seem impossible.

Today, as we mark a quarter-millennium of independence, I feel both gratitude and responsibility when I look at my ancestors’ journey. Their role from the first alarm to the final treaty and the sacrifices of the generations that followed anchors my understanding that liberty is not an abstract gift, but a legacy earned through sweat, blood, and moral conviction. It calls me to cherish the rights they secured while confronting the imperfections that remain, always striving to perfect our union. Two hundred fifty years later, their story renews my commitment to ensure that the American experiment continues, not as something inherited passively, but as a living promise I must help steward for my children and my children’s children for generations to come.

Saul Montes-Bradley wrote this on July 2, 2026, on the 250th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.

Saul Montes-Bradley II is a Fellow at the Gold Institute for International Strategy, a Washington D.C. based foreign policy and defense think tank.

Why Belgium Is Smarter Than the Netherlands on Asylum Reception

Bart De Wever and Belgian asylum policy

(This article was written by Derk Jan Eppink and appeared in Wynia’s Week. Waarom België met de asielopvang slimmer is dan Nederland)

As the Netherlands bureaucratizes at a brisk pace, the Jetten cabinet loses itself in grand visions. The Hague invariably wants to be Europe’s “frontrunner,” but in fact it is lagging behind. At a high price. Energy and climate policy, now stripped of the frightening UN doomsday scenario, has been ideologically gutted. Asylum policy, the mother of all virtue-signaling, is meeting resistance from the public. In the end, in desperation, the question arises: why do the Belgians do it better?

To the bewilderment of The Hague’s politicians, “the Belgians” have managed to substantially reduce the influx of asylum seekers. The Netherlands has not. Why? In politics and governance the same law applies as in nature: a fish rots from the head down. Bad governance produces bad results. Leading politicians who do not know their classics make citizens suffer. With all its “experts and specialists,” The Hague claims to be entirely in the right yet steers blindly toward a concrete wall. Migration is (and has been for decades) the prime example.

In both the Netherlands and Belgium, the prime ministers bear the political responsibility: in the Netherlands, Rob Jetten; in Belgium, Bart De Wever. Both have been in politics for a considerable time. Jetten was a parliamentary staffer for former D66 leader Alexander Pechtold, and De Wever grew into the figurehead of the New Flemish Alliance (N-VA). In 2013 he became mayor of Antwerp and in 2025 prime minister of federal Belgium, thus including his French-speaking compatriots.

De Wever popular, Jetten not

According to the polls, Jetten is currently the most unpopular prime minister in the Netherlands; De Wever the most popular prime minister in Belgium. Even among French-speaking voters who had always been told he was an extreme Flemish nationalist. In a previous generation, the Netherlands had Ruud Lubbers and Wim Kok as prime ministers, and Belgium had Wilfried Martens and Jean-Luc Dehaene; prime ministers of the same type and caliber.

That balance is now lopsided. De Wever earned authority by, for example, preventing Belgium from bearing all the disadvantages of an EU plan: the unfreezing of Russian assets (180 billion) held at Euroclear in Brussels. The latter could have exposed Belgium to an enormous claim for damages on account of confiscation. De Wever prevented that, from a position of isolation, with a shrewd strategy, finding allies and convincing Germany. De Wever knows his classics and speaks several languages. He grew into the “bravest of all Belgians,” in the tradition of the Celtic forefather Ambiorix. And that for a “Flemish nationalist.” De Wever counts in Europe.

And what about Prime Minister Jetten? One hundred days is too short for an overly harsh judgment, but what stands out above all is a lack of insight. It was clear insight that brought De Wever success. Jetten travels the world. Judging by the many selfies, he seems very much in love with himself. He comes across as a “child prime minister,” while the Netherlands rises up against the Distribution Act, which spreads both asylum seekers and the citizens’ protest across the country. The discontent grows, while Jetten assumes the stature of a holiday photographer. Ergo: his standing (and that of his office) is in the nosedive of a falling star. Since he is prime minister of a minority cabinet, the danger is never far away.

Jetten operates as a tightrope walker, while De Wever is the architect of his center-right alliance N-VA, with enough electoral strength to dominate the political landscape in Flanders and Belgium. With just under 25 percent in Flanders, N-VA is indispensable for coalition-building in both Flanders and Belgium, and it is De Wever who sets the course. The result was a turnaround, while the Netherlands is politically fragmented.

Farcical

Belgium, especially in the 1980s, witnessed farcical scenes with drunken prominent Walloon socialists who spouted gibberish during the sessions of the Chamber of Representatives. One example I once saw myself was the Walloon socialist Michel Daerden, federal minister of transport (!), who addressed parliament dead drunk. That era is over, although the new generation is hardly teetotal.

The difference between De Wever and Jetten is the quality of “insight.” Prime ministers without insight manufacture “policy” without prospect. The Distribution Act is a good example. It solves nothing but spreads the asylum problem around. Many asylum seekers throw away their passports, but not their phones. Photos of asylum reception in Van der Valk hotels and on cruise ships travel around the world: the Netherlands is becoming a popular asylum destination.

Belgium prevents this through frugal reception. Even the Flemish socialists, with whom De Wever governs, support minimal reception. Frank Vandenbroucke (70), Belgium’s deputy prime minister, a Flemish socialist in the De Wever government, knows the consequences of excessive immigration. And not because he is a Flemish socialist with Calvinist traits.

Flemish socialists were once powerful, but lost voters on the right to the Vlaams Belang and on the left to the radical-socialist Workers’ Party (PVDA). A cruise ship for asylum seekers will not appear in Antwerp anytime soon. That is why they move on, to “Hotel Holland.” Logical; I would do the same. The fault lies not in Brussels, but in The Hague. De Wever sees what Jetten fails to see.

Resistance in the capillaries of politics

In Belgium there would be no support whatsoever for a Dutch-style asylum policy, because the resistance begins right in the capillaries of politics. In Flanders, “identity” is experienced more consciously because people had to fight for it, whereas in the Netherlands it is taken for granted. The Fleming sees excessive immigration with large cultural differences as a threat to his own identity.

The electoral system in Belgium is closer to the citizens than in the Netherlands, which is governed centrally from The Hague. As soon as a Flemish citizen is troubled by asylum seekers, he or she goes to complain to the elected officials, such as the mayor, and to members of the Flemish or federal parliament. They are elected in their constituencies, where preference votes are very important. Every Flemish politician with many preference votes will trumpet that around, and then demands a high position in the party and afterward in parliament. The party’s “strongmen” become ministers in the federal or regional government. And the “strongest of all” becomes prime minister of Belgium. Whoever wants to rise high in Belgian politics must not go against the voters’ wishes.

In the Netherlands it is exactly the other way around. There is one national list of candidates for, say, the House of Representatives. The candidate is placed on the list thanks to the party leadership, with preference votes not being essential. A nice bonus, but not decisive for a political career. The list leader has to do the work and, above all, come across well on television. That was the case with Prime Minister Jetten, and he ran an effective campaign. Contact with the population is minimal and often stage-managed. What is alive “among the people” is no guideline. The Distribution Act proves it. In this way a disconnect arises between what The Hague wants (the phrase: “it must”) and the lived reality of ordinary citizens.

In Belgium, ministers nowadays generally enter the government with a “record”; a track record. These are the “strongmen” from the various parties. A blunder such as that of the current Dutch Minister of Housing, Elanor Boekholt-O’Sullivan (50, D66), would not easily occur in Belgium. She was appointed by former Defense Minister Kajsa Ollongren (D66) to the rank of air force general, albeit without a pilot’s license, and is heading for failure in The Hague. That appointment has more to do with favoritism toward friends than with good governance.

The asylum problems the Netherlands is now grappling with are problems of its own making, just as was the case with energy and climate policy, with high costs that citizens get dumped on their plate via higher taxes. Belgian politicians generally stand closer to the voters and know where the ultimate limit lies. The Hague feels nothing, and goes off the rails undisturbed.

Derk Jan Eppink is a Distinguished Fellow at the Gold Institute for International Strategy, a Washington D.C.-based foreign policy and defense think tank.