There are two Americas on Veteran's Day now…and every other day.

There was a time — not long ago — when national holidays acted as the last remaining neutral ground in American life. Days like Independence Day, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day. These were moments where we paused the noise, stopped sizing each other up, and remembered the things we all share: a home, a history, and a debt to the people who defended both.

In 2025, that truce feels increasingly fragile.

If you spent this Veteran’s Day with family, you may have felt it. The caution. The conversational detours. The quiet calculation: How much can I say? Which subjects are safe? Which version of America are we in at this table?

We don’t have one America anymore. We have two.

Yes, the divides are political, cultural, economic — but beneath all of that, they are emotional. One America believes it is fighting to preserve the country’s character and constitutional backbone. The other believes it is fighting to protect democracy and human rights from an authoritarian unraveling. Both believe they are defending something precious. Both believe the other side is dangerous. And both perspectives are rooted in real experiences — not delusion.

That’s what makes the fracture so hard to mend.

We are no longer debating facts. We are debating reality itself.

And the institutions we once relied on to mediate reality — media, universities, even cultural organizations — are no longer widely trusted. Confidence in journalism has dropped to record lows across the political spectrum. The BBC, historically held up as a model of journalistic restraint, has faced its own credibility crises, internal investigations, and editorial resignations in recent years. If even the “serious” global outlets cannot persuade the public of their neutrality, what referee remains?

So the country retreats into mirrored media ecosystems. Two narratives. Two histories. Two emotional universes.

On Veteran’s Day, the divide shows up in how we interpret the meaning of service itself.

For some, the uniform represents courage, sacrifice, continuity — proof that this nation, imperfect as it is, remains worth defending. For others, military symbolism is tangled up with justified criticism of American policy failures: Iraq, Afghanistan, political manipulation of patriotism.

A nation that cannot agree on the meaning of its heroes is a nation struggling to remain a nation.

And yet — veterans themselves are often among the last Americans who have actually lived in a diverse, interdependent, multi-class, multi-racial institution where trust and cooperation aren’t optional. The military forces unity where civilian life now encourages division.

Maybe the way back begins there.

Because no matter which America someone believes they live in — someone wore a uniform for them.

And that still means something.