Feb 5, 2026
Los Angeles, California
The Grammy Awards used to be a celebration of music. This year, it turned into a stage-managed sermon where celebrity elites instructed the country on morality, borders, and history. The loudest applause was reserved not for artistry, but for ideology.
Billie Eilish stepped into that role with the confidence of someone who has never been forced to live with the consequences of the policies she promotes. In her Song of the Year acceptance moment, she attacked immigration enforcement and delivered a line that has become a mantra in activist circles: “No one is illegal on stolen land.”
The room erupted. Cameras caught the predictable standing ovations. And then reality did what it always does when slogans collide with facts. The speech backfired fast, because the claim is morally confused, historically careless, and the hypocrisy is impossible to ignore.
Eilish’s line is designed to function like a moral shortcut. It bypasses law, replaces argument with accusation, and frames anyone who cares about borders as inherently wicked. It is not meant to be debated. It is meant to be repeated.
But even as a slogan, it collapses under basic scrutiny. If “no one is illegal,” then law itself becomes irrelevant. If land is “stolen” in a way that permanently invalidates the country, then every legal category derived from that country becomes illegitimate, including property rights, contracts, courts, and protections for victims.
That is the contradiction at the heart of this rhetoric. The same people who declare the system illegitimate demand the system enforce their rights when it benefits them. They want the moral authority of revolution, and the legal protection of the status quo.
Within hours of the speech, the most obvious question surfaced: if you’re going to call the nation “stolen,” do you apply that standard to your own life, or only to everyone else’s?
Eilish owns a multi-million-dollar property in the Los Angeles area that sits on land historically associated with the Tongva people. After the Grammys remark exploded online, representatives connected to the Tongva confirmed publicly that her home is on their ancestral territory, and that she has not contacted them regarding her ownership.
This matters because it exposes the performance. It is easy to recite activist mantras in a theater full of applauding millionaires. It is harder to live by those claims when it costs you something. If the moral logic of “stolen land” is true, the first demand should fall on the people living in the most expensive ZIP codes, not on working families trying to survive.
The hypocrisy is not abstract. It’s structural.
Hollywood elites live behind gates, cameras, private security, and layers of legal protection. They build personal borders around their lives, their families, and their wealth. They call the police when trespassers cross onto their property. They seek restraining orders when threats appear. They use the very “system” they condemn to enforce their private peace.
Meanwhile, they tell ordinary Americans that wanting national borders is immoral. That is the “rules for thee, not for me” religion of the modern celebrity class. Their private lives reveal what they really believe: boundaries matter when you are the one who pays the price.
And the ones who do pay the price are not the people in designer seats at the Grammys. It is working-class neighborhoods bearing the brunt of crime, overwhelmed services, school strain, wage suppression, and the human misery created by trafficking networks and lawlessness. These elites can virtue-signal about compassion because they have insulated themselves from the fallout.
Now for the deeper issue: the slogan is not merely hypocritical. It is historically bankrupt.
Jeff Fynn-Paul, a historian at Leiden University, lays out what so many Americans instinctively know: the “stolen country” narrative is a selective moral myth masquerading as scholarship. It paints Europeans as uniquely evil and Native peoples as passive saints, which is not only false, but ironically dehumanizing. Real human beings have agency. Real societies form alliances, wage war, migrate, and displace others. That is not a moral endorsement. It is history.
The “stolen land” claim also assumes a modern concept of private property and permanent, fixed borders that simply did not operate in the same way across most of pre-modern societies. Many indigenous groups did not conceive of land ownership as 21st-century Americans do, and tribal territories shifted repeatedly over time due to conflict, migration, and changing power structures. To pretend one tribe held a parcel “in perpetuity” is the kind of ahistorical fantasy that only thrives in an age where slogans replace reading.
Then comes the political sleight of hand: activists borrow the European-derived legal concepts of property rights and title to declare America illegitimate, while ignoring that those legal frameworks are precisely what make stable society possible. In other words, they appeal to the very inheritance they’re trying to condemn.
A serious reading of history reveals a world that is complicated, tragic, and far more human than the activist cartoon.
First, the catastrophic collapse of indigenous populations after European contact was driven largely by disease exposure and immunological vulnerability, not some centrally coordinated extermination plan. Europeans brought disease communities with them because the Old World had been interconnected for millennia. The New World had not. That reality is devastating, but it is not the same thing as a deliberate, universal genocide narrative.
Second, indigenous societies were not frozen in time. They fought wars, displaced rivals, formed confederations, absorbed defeated groups, and negotiated alliances, sometimes with Europeans and sometimes against them. Europeans entered an already contested landscape and often purchased land through agreements that both parties understood according to their own norms. There were betrayals, abuses, and injustices because humans are fallen. But the “America = pure theft” narrative is not history. It is an ideological weapon.
Third, the United States did not become “great” by being uniquely evil. It became great because a constitutional order emerged that restrained power, protected rights, and fostered a culture where opportunity could expand beyond bloodline and tribe. That system is precisely why people risk their lives to come here in the first place. The very migration Hollywood claims to champion is a testimony that the American experiment is not a cage, but a beacon.
There is a spiritual reason this rhetoric feels so suffocating. It is a counterfeit gospel.
The “stolen land” ideology traffics in collective guilt, inherited condemnation, and endless penance. It offers no forgiveness, no restoration, no reconciliation, and no actual path forward except permanent grievance. That is not justice. It is bondage.
Scripture does not teach moral responsibility as an endless bloodline curse. God judges individuals for their actions. We are called to act righteously in our generation, to pursue justice, and to love our neighbor, but we are not commanded to accept a permanent identity of national illegitimacy.
The Bible also affirms borders and lawful order. Nations are not accidents. Boundaries are not inherently evil. The proper question is whether authority is exercised righteously. A nation can uphold law, secure borders, and still treat people with dignity. In fact, without order, the vulnerable are crushed first.
Billie Eilish’s Grammys line was meant to be her heroic cultural moment. Instead, it exposed how shallow the celebrity moral script has become.
If Eilish truly believes her slogan, then the ethical demand starts with her: acknowledge the Tongva claim, engage them directly, and apply her own standard to her own property. Anything less is theater.
And for the rest of America, the takeaway is simple: do not let a room full of applauding elites rewrite your nation’s legitimacy with a meme. America has sins, like every nation. But it is not illegitimate. It is not uniquely “stolen.” And it does not need permission from wealthy entertainers to defend its sovereignty, its laws, or its future.
References
Photo by Rob Laughter on Unsplash
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