Narrator: Imagine a Republican congressman, a veteran of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, driving to his office in the U.S. Capitol. It’s January 6th, 2021, and tucked away in his briefcase is a handgun. He’s not preparing for a foreign attack, but for the possibility of violence from his fellow Americans, incited by the leader of his own party. How does a man who built his career on conservative principles find himself in a position where he feels the need to arm himself against his own side? This is the central question at the heart of Adam Kinzinger's memoir, Renegade: Defending Democracy from Its Own Worst Enemy. The book is a raw, inside account of one man's journey from a loyal Republican to a so-called "traitor" for choosing his oath to the Constitution over his party.

Narrator: Before the era of hyperpartisanship, politics, especially at the local level, operated on a different code. Kinzinger’s entry into politics illustrates this starkly. In 1998, as a 20-year-old college student, he ran for the McLean County Board in Illinois. His first debate against the incumbent, Allen Ware, was held in a historic courthouse, a symbol of American democracy. The local paper’s headline captured the tone perfectly: "CORDIALITY MARKS DEBATE." There were no personal insults or scorched-earth tactics. Kinzinger won by a narrow margin, and the event was treated as a charming local novelty. This early experience, along with his father’s unsuccessful but gracious run for state senate, instilled in Kinzinger a belief in a more civil, issue-focused political system—a system where opponents were rivals, not enemies, and where, as his father said after losing, "The people speak, and we go on with life as it is." This foundation of decency and respect for the process makes his later disillusionment all the more profound.

Narrator: The September 11th attacks were a defining moment that transformed Kinzinger’s life and solidified his commitment to national service. He describes the day as a generational call to action, a moment that shifted his assumptions about national security and inspired him to join the Air Force. This path was not just about patriotism; it was about competence, discipline, and a rigorous ethical code. His military training was intense, from learning to fly jets to surviving simulated prisoner-of-war scenarios in SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) school.

This training had a direct, real-world application that went beyond the battlefield. One night in Milwaukee, Kinzinger witnessed a woman run from a bar, bleeding profusely from her neck, pursued by a man with a knife. Without hesitation, he confronted the attacker, disarmed him, and subdued him until police arrived. He later reflected that his military training had conditioned him to recognize danger and respond decisively, saving the woman's life. This experience reinforced his belief in a life of service and the importance of acting with courage, a theme that would later define his political career.

Narrator: When Kinzinger arrived in Congress in 2011, he entered a political landscape that was rapidly changing. The Tea Party movement, which had begun as a grassroots protest against government spending, was being co-opted by political opportunists. He saw figures like Michele Bachmann use the movement for personal fame and fundraising, even as their actions and statements revealed a shocking lack of knowledge. In one telling anecdote, Bachmann asked Kinzinger, a military pilot, "Do you know the Navy has airplanes? You know, like on aircraft carriers?"

This era, which Speaker John Boehner privately described as "fighting one batshit idea after another," was marked by a new level of intransigence. Compromise became a dirty word. During the 2011 debt-ceiling debate, Kinzinger watched as Tea Party members refused to negotiate, bringing the country to the brink of default and costing taxpayers over a billion dollars. It was a new political reality where scoring points for your side, fueled by outrage media, became more important than governing. Kinzinger found himself trying to be a team player while increasingly feeling that the team was heading into "Crazytown."

Narrator: The 2016 election marked the complete takeover of the Republican party by forces Kinzinger could not support. He watched in dismay as Donald Trump systematically dismantled his opponents, like Jeb Bush, not with policy arguments but with schoolyard taunts like "low-energy Jeb." Trump’s rhetoric tapped into a deep well of anger and resentment among voters who felt left behind, but Kinzinger saw it as a dangerous departure from conservative principles. He refused to endorse Trump, a decision that began his alienation from the party.

The night of the election, he attended a local GOP watch party and was met with a cold silence. One elderly woman, a long-time supporter, angrily confronted him, blaming him for Trump's potential loss. When Kinzinger called Trump a "racist idiot," the woman defended him, and the conversation ended with her husband stepping in. Kinzinger left the party feeling like a pariah. This personal rejection was a microcosm of the larger schism to come. He was witnessing the birth of a new GOP, one built not on policy or principle, but on loyalty to one man.

Narrator: The events of January 6th were the culmination of everything Kinzinger had feared. In the weeks prior, he and Congresswoman Liz Cheney had warned their Republican colleagues that Trump's lies about the election would lead to violence. Their warnings were ignored. On the day of the attack, Kinzinger was in his office, armed, watching in horror as the Capitol was breached. He saw the mob, incited by the president, storm the halls of Congress, and he knew the party he had joined was gone.

In the immediate aftermath, he became the first Republican to publicly call for Trump's removal from office via the 25th Amendment. He then made the career-defining decision to vote for impeachment, one of only ten House Republicans to do so. The backlash was swift and brutal. He was condemned by his local party, received death threats against his family, and was labeled a traitor by his own cousin. His attempt to start a "Country First" movement with other pro-impeachment Republicans fizzled as his colleagues lost their nerve. The experience solidified his new reality: choosing truth had cost him his political home.

Narrator: Kinzinger’s work on the January 6th Committee was his final act as a congressman, a last-ditch effort to hold those responsible accountable. The committee’s investigation revealed the depth of the conspiracy to overturn the election, from early text messages by Trump’s allies to the president’s own actions on the day of the attack. The final hearing focused on Trump's 187 minutes of inaction, during which he watched the violence on TV and told his chief of staff the rioters were "doing what they should be doing."

The committee presented testimony from truth-tellers like Cassidy Hutchinson, a former White House aide who provided a chilling, firsthand account of Trump's rage and his desire to join the mob at the Capitol. This evidence painted a damning picture of a president who had not only incited an insurrection but had willfully abdicated his duty to stop it. For Kinzinger, the committee’s work was not about partisan politics; it was about defending the very foundation of American democracy from an unprecedented threat from within.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Renegade is that the fabric of democracy is not torn by a single, dramatic event, but by a thousand small compromises of integrity. It is frayed when public servants prioritize party loyalty over their oath, when they choose silence in the face of lies, and when they value power over truth. Adam Kinzinger's story is a testament to the profound personal and professional cost of refusing to make those compromises.

The book leaves us with a challenging redefinition of courage. It is not, as Kinzinger concludes, a single heroic act performed without fear. True courage is the quiet, daily decision to continue doing what is right despite the fear—fear of rejection, fear of failure, and even fear of violence. The ultimate question Renegade poses is not just about the past, but about the future: When faced with a similar choice, will enough people have the courage to put their country first?