As I peruse social media this morning, I can’t help but notice the unmistakable fog of confusion, distortion, and outright delusion swirling around “Juneteenth.” What was once a relatively obscure, regionally significant marker of emancipation has now been duct-taped into the masthead of America’s ever-expanding inventory of leftist virtue-signaling rituals.

The internet, of course, is drenched in it… Twitter, in particular, is a digital parade of raised fists, afro-centric color schemes, pan-African propaganda, and calls to arms for yet more reparative justice. Replete with raised fists of every imaginable shade—except white, of course, because heaven forbid someone get confused and think this was about actual unity.

No, the modern observance of “Juneteenth” has nothing to do with honoring the end of slavery. It’s not a solemn remembrance of what actually happened on June 19th. It’s not a historical reflection of the ills of American chattel slavery. It’s not even an honest acknowledgment of the facts.
It’s a political pep rally… a grievance carnival. It’s a pageant of performative wokeness where everyone competes for the gold medal in indignation.
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And most bizarrely, it’s a day now imbued with a not-so-subtle animosity toward white Americans—especially conservatives—the very people who, as a matter of historical fact, died by the hundreds of thousands to end the institution of slavery in the first place.
I think this Twitter user nailed it:

And let’s not forget, slavery didn’t end on “Juneteenth.” It ended legally when the Thirteenth Amendment was ratified in December of 1865. The so-called “Juneteenth” was simply the day Union soldiers got around to telling a backwater corner of Texas that the war was over and, oh by the way, Abraham Lincoln had already freed the slaves over two years ago.
That’s it. That’s the whole story.
The only reason it took that long was because Democrat slaveholders in Texas ignored the Emancipation Proclamation—signed, I might add, by a Republican president—and kept pretending the Confederacy still had a future. In other words, the very group screaming about liberation today was the same group obstructing it back then. The irony is simply impenetrable.
But don’t expect to hear that little historical nugget at your local “Juneteenth” bash. No, what you’ll hear is the usual revisionist sermon… that Black Americans freed themselves, that the system never really changed, and that somehow, inexplicably, the Democrat Party is the champion of civil rights.

Never mind that it was the party of slavery, segregation, Jim Crow, and the Klan. Forget that it was Republican votes that passed civil rights legislation. That inconvenient truth is swept under the Kente cloth carpet while activists dance atop the graves of historical literacy.
The truth is that the Democratic Party never abandoned the plantation. It just changed the model. The shackles became subsidies. The master’s whip became government checks.
The overseers traded in their leather for laptops, their plantations for bureaucracies. Instead of back-breaking labor, now it’s soul-breaking dependency. The modern welfare state doesn’t just corral people, it devours them. And all of it wrapped in the warm, suffocating embrace of progressive compassion.
Yet here we are, being told that “Juneteenth” is a moment of collective pride. A celebration. A milestone. And what does that celebration actually look like? City-wide brawls. Parking lot melees.

Gunfire breaking out in the middle of block parties. Police officers ducking for cover while the DEI director hands out flyers about unconscious bias. Vendors hawking red, black, and green merch as if selling trinkets on the Titanic.
It’s like watching a social justice-themed episode of Jerry Springer break out in real time—and being told to clap.
We’ve seen these celebrations spiral into mass shootings. We’ve seen businesses vandalized, police overwhelmed, and cities bracing for impact every June 19th like it’s a Category 5 hurricane. And yet we’re supposed to nod solemnly, pretend it’s sacred, and act shocked when the predictable descent into chaos unfolds once again.

And perhaps the most tragic part is watching Christians stumble over themselves to participate. Churches hosting “freedom services,” pastors twisting Scripture into racialized theology, congregations substituting gospel truth with grievance theater.
Instead of being salt and light, they’re playing background vocals in the choir of cultural madness. They think they’re building bridges when in fact they’re walking tightropes over pits of fire, applauding a movement that despises the very gospel they claim to believe.
“Juneteenth” isn’t a holy day. It’s not even a national day of genuine unity. It’s a costume party with a body count and a distraction masquerading as progress. It’s a Trojan horse filled with critical race theory, victimhood ideology, and racial essentialism, all dressed up in the language of liberation.
And Christians who choose to participate in it, beyond a simple historical acknowledgment, risk not just irrelevance, but compromise.
In the end, this isn’t about freedom. It’s about drama. And as with all bad drama, the script is shallow, the actors overplay their parts, and the audience is left wondering whether they’re watching a tragedy or a farce.
Probably both.