Reflections on Loss and Betrayal

During the annual dinner for the Ciceron Society on March 19th, my phone buzzed, altering the entire evening. It had been a day filled with engaging discussions among Christian thinkers, and my wife and I felt thankful to be included. Then I saw something familiar—a post with men’s pictures. I quickly recognized Brandon Shah.

We were part of the same group in the U.S. Army Command Staff College, Class of 2019. I soon discovered why he was so prominent in my feed; there it was, the news that Lt. Col. Brandon Sher had been identified as the victim in a terrorist attack.

My heart raced, followed closely by an overwhelming anger. This news reignited frustrations I had harbored about how the political class has failed veterans of the so-called Global War on Terror. My wife sensed my distress. “Are you okay?” she asked. I wasn’t. My focus shifted from the presentation I was supposed to deliver to a long-avoided mourning for a comrade who had died on his own soil.

For years, I have listened to politicians expressing gratitude toward the military, promising a secure future for our children in exchange for significant sacrifices. Yet they seem to have imported the very threats we were sent to neutralize. We veterans of the War on Terror did our part.

But the government didn’t uphold its end of the bargain. No hollow “thank you for your service” can mask this betrayal.

For decades, those in power, caught up in their ambitious dreams and the desire to leave a legacy, have focused on foreign missions rather than protecting our homeland.

America for Americans

Brandon was killed by terrorists—Mohamed Baylor Jallow, an immigrant from Sierra Leone, who was previously arrested for attempting to support ISIS. His past includes a guilty plea that led to an 11-year sentence, with early release expected in 2024. If his original sentence had been served, he would have been in prison until 2029. But details surrounding these events seem hard to come by, particularly concerning non-white criminals, often overlooked by mainstream media.

Brandon’s tragic loss isn’t isolated. On November 26, 2025, an Afghan national named Rahmanullah Rakanwar attacked a National Guard patrol in Washington, D.C., resulting in a fatality and injuries. President Trump recognized the sacrifice of our service members with commendations. What they faced was a combat-like scenario on American soil. Rakanwar had been brought over through a program aiding Afghans unwilling to fight for their country, resulting in confusion and misplaced sympathy.

As we know, illegal immigration has surged due to welcoming policies from the Biden administration. While addressing illegal immigration is crucial, the legal means of allowing potential threats remains largely unexamined, even by conservative voices.

Sen. Ted Cruz’s mantra of “If it’s legal, it’s good; if it’s illegal, it’s bad” is insufficient. Jallow was legally in the U.S.; he would have passed Cruz’s test but doesn’t deserve to be here.

Here to Fight Them

My generation fought under the Bush Doctrine, which aimed to confront threats overseas to keep them from reaching the U.S. But in the last two decades, our political leaders have increased immigration from Muslim-majority countries, places where attitudes can be hostile toward our foundational Christian values.

Worse yet, individuals openly supporting groups seeking our destruction are allowed to stay. Take John Walker Lindh, released early despite his extremist beliefs.

Norfolk’s Commonwealth Attorney suggested Brandon’s love for firearms was to blame for his death, calling it a national disease. In reality, it’s our empathy, teetering on anarchic love, that places foreigners above family ties.

Authors Pete Hegseth and David Goodwin argue that this empathy, deeply intertwined with cultural Marxism, creates an atmosphere where words like “Islamophobia” and “racism” are weaponized against those who defend their values.

Joe Rigney contends that the Western obsession with empathy can be deadly, often overshadowing genuine sympathy. Our approach to empathy can lead judges to side with malicious figures, turning common sense upside down. But history shows that our founders sacrificed much to not give safe spaces to those who would harm us.

Sen. Tom Cotton has proposed legislation to denaturalize immigrants connected to felonious acts or terrorist groups. It’s simple: if you wish to live here, do not align with those advocating violence against Americans.

Anyone siding with groups like the Taliban or supporting terrorism should lose their citizenship and face deportation. It’s natural to stigmatize those who lean towards evil.

Yet, after Brandon’s ordeal, ROTC students across the country have been advised to avoid wearing uniforms out of safety concerns, while virtuous actions are shamed. Something feels off about that.

A couple of days after I learned of Brandon’s death, I expressed my reflections, choosing to share them instead of my original presentation at the Ciceron Society meeting. With a heavy heart, I looked at a photo of our class, remembering a time we could learn without the threat of violence.

Brandon wasn’t a close friend, and we hadn’t kept in touch post-graduation. But he was a fellow veteran, someone I shared a significant part of my life with. He should still be here, living his life as a husband, a father, and a leader. His loss feels like a sharp betrayal.

While the terrorists responsible for his death faced consequences, numerous policymakers and enforcers bear responsibility for this tragedy.