New York’s Amish families are caught in a fight that reaches well beyond their schoolhouses: How much room does religious freedom still occupy when government decides that everyone must follow the same rules?
In 2019, New York eliminated the religious exemption from its school vaccination requirements. The change applied to public, private and religious schools, including Amish schools whose families say vaccination violates their beliefs. Those schools subsequently faced substantial fines for failing to comply. The law was statewide, but its consequences have been particularly difficult for these small religious communities.
The legal battle has already reached the Supreme Court, which returned the case to the Second Circuit for reconsideration. On June 30, 2026, the appeals court again upheld the law, concluding that it was neutral and generally applicable. That leaves a fundamental disagreement unresolved for the families involved: The state sees an enforceable public health requirement; the parents see government compelling them to violate their faith.
You do not need to be Amish—or trade your car for a buggy—to appreciate their place in American life. Their commitment to hard work, family, faith and stewardship deserves respect. A community should not have to abandon its convictions simply because those convictions are inconvenient for Albany.
The original commentary points to the Amish way of life as an example of health, resilience and self-sufficiency. Those qualities deserve consideration, although they do not, by themselves, settle questions about infectious disease or school vaccination requirements.
The broader concern is the power of government to squeeze a religious community until its members feel they have little choice but to comply, close their schools or leave.
Religious liberty matters most when it protects people whose practices differ from those of the majority. Otherwise, it becomes little more than permission to believe whatever government already finds acceptable.
That principle should apply consistently—to Amish families, evangelicals, Catholics, Jews, Muslims and everyone else. Defending one community’s freedom does not require treating another community’s presence as a threat.
My friend Charlie Kirk frequently raised questions about Western civilization, cultural integration and the relationship between religious authority and individual liberty. His arguments belong in that debate, where they can be examined on their merits.
There is also a historical lesson worth revisiting, provided we tell it accurately.
In 1786, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams discussed attacks on American shipping with an ambassador from Tripoli. Their report to John Jay recorded the ambassador invoking religious authority to justify warfare and enslavement:
“It was founded on the Laws of their Prophet, that it was written in their Koran, that all nations who should not have acknowledged their authority were sinners, that it was their right and duty to make war upon them wherever they could be found, and to make slaves of all they could take as Prisoners, and that every Muslim who should be slain in battle was sure to go to Paradise.”
That account documents the justification offered by a particular representative of a particular regime. It deserves serious attention, but it cannot fairly establish the beliefs of every Muslim, then or now.
The United States initially used tribute payments and diplomacy to protect its commerce. Under Jefferson, it fought the First Barbary War from 1801 to 1805. American forces supported an effort to replace Tripoli’s ruler, but the eventual settlement left him in power. Calling the outcome America’s first successful enforced regime change oversimplifies the history.
The enduring lesson is about coercion: Governments must consider whether concessions resolve a conflict or encourage further demands.
France now faces a different crisis. Student protests over school conditions have spread across the country, with some demonstrations escalating into violence. Reporting describes teacher shortages, deteriorating facilities and overcrowded classrooms among the grievances. Those problems warrant a response. They do not justify attacks on people or property.
If you are unhappy with a rundown classroom, setting it on fire is an exceptionally poor renovation plan.
French officials have accused radical political groups of exploiting the protests. Reporting also describes a diverse movement, making it important to distinguish allegations of political coordination from established responsibility for individual acts of violence.
The mayor of Saint-Denis, Bally Bagayoko, has joined student demonstrations. That involvement is open to scrutiny, especially when elected officials must balance support for peaceful protest with their responsibility to discourage violence. His attendance alone, however, does not establish that he organized attacks or endorsed arson.
Officials can address legitimate complaints while insisting that intimidation and destruction carry consequences. The concern raised in the accompanying British commentary is what happens when concessions appear to reward disorder.
The comparison with the Barbary conflicts has limits. Modern school protests and attacks on American sailors are different events, with different causes. Still, leaders in either setting must reckon with the incentives their decisions create.
Kirk’s broader warning about Europe’s future returns to the question of whether a society remains willing to defend its institutions and freedoms.
A democracy needs both the confidence to enforce its laws and the restraint to protect dissent. It also needs leaders who can distinguish peaceful demonstrators from people committing crimes, rather than excusing an entire movement or condemning everyone associated with it.
British commentator and former Brexit Party member of the European Parliament Alex Phillips offers her own warning about the implications for Britain.
Americans should pay attention without assuming that every overseas conflict has the same causes—or that violence can be explained by the religion or birthplace of an entire population.
Here at home, the Amish case presents a concrete test. Can government pursue its stated public health goals while giving meaningful consideration to religious conscience? How severe should penalties become when families believe compliance would violate their faith?
Those questions deserve more than a shrug from Albany.
Today, the families challenging the law are Amish. Tomorrow, a different government policy could place another religious community in the same position. That is why the principle matters beyond one state, one school or one denomination.
Be proud of your heritage. Be bold about your beliefs. And insist that the freedom to practice them remains a right that government must take seriously.