Owen Shroyer has never been a figure built for quiet loyalty. His rise came inside the loud and confrontational universe of populist media, a space where certainty is prized and compromise is treated as weakness. Yet in recent months, Shroyer has turned that confrontational style inward, directing it not at liberals or the political establishment, but at Donald Trump himself. The reason is not personality or ego. It is foreign policy, specifically what Shroyer describes as an Israel First agenda that he believes contradicts the very heart of the America First promise.

Shroyer’s critique is blunt and deliberately uncomfortable. He has argued that the United States is no longer acting as a sovereign power guided by its own interests, but as a nation constrained by an unspoken obligation to defend Israel regardless of cost or consequence. In his broadcasts and online appearances, he has labeled Israel’s military actions in Gaza a genocide and has insisted that moral language is not optional when civilian suffering reaches such scale. In Shroyer’s view, avoiding that word is itself a form of dishonesty, a way of dulling public outrage and protecting political alliances from scrutiny.

He has argued that the United States is no longer acting as a sovereign power guided by its own interests, but as a nation constrained by an unspoken obligation to defend Israel regardless of cost or consequence.

What makes Shroyer’s position stand out is not only the content of his criticism but its origin. He is not speaking from the progressive left or from the traditional foreign policy establishment. He is speaking from within the broader America First ecosystem, a movement that rose on skepticism of foreign entanglements and endless wars. Shroyer argues that if America First is to mean anything at all, it must apply universally. A principle that collapses when Israel enters the discussion, he claims, is not a principle but a marketing slogan.

At the center of his argument is a simple but radical demand. Shroyer does not call for a temporary pause in aid or for symbolic condemnation. He calls for a complete divorce between the United States and Israel. He argues that the relationship has become a strategic and moral liability, one that drags America into conflicts it cannot control and stains its global reputation. For him, disentanglement is not isolationism. It is an assertion of independence, a reclaiming of national decision making from what he sees as a toxic and unconditional alliance.

He calls for a complete divorce between the United States and Israel.

This position places Shroyer on a collision course with Trump, whose brand has long rested on defying elite consensus while claiming to put American interests first. Shroyer’s accusation is that Trump, despite his outsider image, becomes remarkably conventional when Israel is involved. According to Shroyer, the populist rebellion stops at a familiar red line, revealing limits to how far the movement is willing to challenge entrenched power.

That accusation has not come without consequences. Shroyer’s public break with InfoWars exposed the internal strain surrounding his criticism. The split was messy and highly visible, with accusations flying in both directions. Shroyer framed his departure as a moral and philosophical breaking point, while his former allies suggested he had crossed into unacceptable territory by criticizing Trump too openly. In movement media, access equals influence, and losing a major platform is no small sacrifice. The rupture suggested that the boundaries of acceptable dissent were being actively enforced.

Shroyer’s willingness to push past those boundaries is tied to his broader identity as a dissident figure. His legal history, including a misdemeanor conviction related to January 6 for entering a restricted area, has only strengthened his credibility among audiences who distrust institutions and see punishment as proof of independence. To supporters, his criticism of Israel and Trump fits a familiar pattern. He is once again saying the thing that is not supposed to be said and paying a price for it.

Critics respond with sharp objections. They argue that Shroyer’s framing reduces a complex geopolitical relationship to a single villain narrative. They point out that American support for Israel is shaped by decades of strategic planning, intelligence cooperation, domestic political realities, and regional power balances. From this perspective, a total severing of ties would create instability, empower rival states, and fail to address the humanitarian disaster in Gaza in any meaningful way. To them, Shroyer’s language feels reckless, driven more by outrage than by policy realism.

Supporters counter with a different definition of realism. They argue that unconditional support has already imposed enormous costs on the United States, including financial burden, diplomatic isolation and increased security risks. They claim that America’s close identification with Israel fuels resentment across the Muslim world and undermines any claim to moral leadership. In that light, disentanglement is not abandonment but self-preservation. Shroyer’s rhetoric resonates because it articulates a belief many hold privately but rarely hear expressed so forcefully.

The use of the word genocide is central to this divide. It is not a technical policy critique but a moral indictment. By using it, Shroyer removes the possibility of neutrality. If the actions in Gaza constitute genocide, then continued American support becomes complicity. This framing is precisely what makes his message powerful to some and intolerable to others. It forces audiences to confront the ethical implications of alliances they may have previously accepted without question.

If the actions in Gaza constitute genocide, then continued American support becomes complicity.

Shroyer’s challenge also exposes a deeper tension within the America First movement itself. The movement brands itself as rebellious and anti establishment, yet it still maintains sacred cows. Israel, in Shroyer’s telling, is the clearest example. He argues that there is an invisible boundary that many pro Trump voices refuse to cross, not because of reasoned disagreement, but because careers, platforms and coalition unity depend on silence. His criticism suggests that true populism cannot coexist with forbidden topics.

Importantly, Shroyer does not ground his argument in the language of international institutions or global governance. He does not appeal to United Nations resolutions or abstract legal frameworks. Instead, he frames everything through sovereignty, citizenship and national obligation. His moral outrage is woven into nationalist rhetoric, creating an unusual blend that does not fit neatly into traditional left right categories. This is not a globalist critique of Israel. It is a nationalist one.

Whether this approach gains traction remains uncertain. On one hand, there is evidence of generational change. Younger conservatives and populist voices appear more willing than previous Republican cohorts to question unwavering support for Israel, especially when they see domestic needs going unmet. On the other hand, the old consensus remains deeply embedded in political incentives and media structures. Shroyer is betting that frustration has reached a tipping point.

Ultimately, his criticism is about more than Gaza or Israel. It is about authenticity and power inside a movement that claims to reject both elite control and moral compromise. Shroyer’s message is a challenge as much as an accusation. If America First is real, he argues, it must apply even when doing so is uncomfortable and costly. If it does not, then it is nothing more than a slogan repeated until people stop noticing that it no longer matches reality.

In that sense, Owen Shroyer’s break with Trump is not just a personal or political dispute. It is a stress test. It asks whether populist rhetoric can survive contact with its own contradictions. And it leaves a question hanging over the movement that shaped him. Who decides what comes first when loyalty, morality and power collide.

– Amjad Khan is a contributing writer for The Arab American News. He is an educator, writer and academic researcher with a deep commitment to addressing the challenges facing the Muslim world. Through his work, he seeks to inspire meaningful dialogue and help chart a path toward unity, justice and peace.