In a revelation that has sent shockwaves through Hollywood and Washington alike, screen legend Mark Hamill—best known worldwide for his iconic role as Luke Skywalker—admitted in a recent interview that he seriously considered leaving the United States after Donald J. Trump secured a second term as President in November 2024. The actor’s frank admission, delivered with characteristic candor, underscores a growing sense of unease among Americans who fear that the nation’s influence on the world stage may never fully recover. For Hamill, the concerns are both personal and patriotic: can a country he loves continue to lead if its core values and alliances appear fractured?
It was late on a chilly December evening when Mark Hamill sat down with political commentator Rachel Greene on her streaming program “State of the Union.” With the soft glow of studio lights illuminating his face, the septuagenarian actor recounted the moment he saw the final returns flash across his phone. “I felt my heart sink,” he said, voice low but steady. “I thought—maybe it’s time to go.” Pausing, he added: “I wanted to explore my options, to find a place where I could still feel proud of being an American by proxy.”
That admission—raw, unfiltered, almost unthinkable coming from a figure so deeply associated with American pop-culture triumphs—struck a chord. Within hours, the clip had gone viral across TikTok, YouTube, and Twitter. Audiences who grew up watching Luke Skywalker battle the Empire were suddenly grappling with an equally daunting question: if America’s own heroes question the country’s direction, what hope remains for the rest of us?
Skeptics might argue that high-profile celebrities have always threatened self-exile in times of political turmoil only to remain firmly planted when the smoke clears. In 2004, actress Meg Ryan mused about leaving the United States if the then-incumbent administration prevailed; in 2016, comedian Chelsea Handler teased relocation to Canada after the first Trump victory. Yet few statements have carried the weight of Hamill’s. His status as a living legend of a franchise that has sold more than $70 billion in merchandise worldwide gives his words extraordinary resonance.
Hamill’s consideration of a new homeland must be seen against a broad arc of American history. From the Founding Fathers’ uneasy alliances to the Red Scare of the 1950s, periods of intense polarization have repeatedly tested the nation’s social fabric. Contemporary scholars note that celebrity endorsements—and renunciations—often serve as cultural barometers. “When people like Mark Hamill voice serious doubts about America’s trajectory, it reveals anxieties that transcend politics,” observes Dr. Linda Murray, a historian at Georgetown University. “It’s a reflection of collective worry about identity, purpose, and our role in the global arena.”
In his decades-long career, Hamill has courted few controversies, choosing instead to let his work speak for itself. He has championed charities, supported progressive causes, and remained an outspoken critic of bigotry and inequality. Yet his latest remarks carry an urgency that goes beyond partisanship. “I’m not anti-American,” he insisted on Greene’s show. “I’m pro-America. And right now, I’m worried we’ve lost the principles that made us great.”
That distinction—between opposition to a president and concern for a nation’s well-being—is crucial. To critics on the right, Hamill’s statements were interpreted as yet another celebrity tantrum. Fox News commentator Greg Hampton dismissed the actor’s musings as “elite virtue signaling.” But on the left, many saw in Hamill’s words a rallying cry. On social media, fans shared clips of Luke Skywalker’s final hopeful message in The Last Jedi, drawing parallels to Hamill’s own search for hope in troubling times.
Hamill’s fear that a second Trump term “could actually be the end” of America’s preeminent position on the world stage is not an idle worry. Under the first Trump administration (2017–2021), the United States withdrew from the Paris Climate Accord, imposed tariffs on longtime allies, and questioned the NATO alliance’s future. While some applaud a more transactional approach to foreign policy, many analysts warn that such a course erodes trust, ceding influence to rival powers like China and Russia.
“Soft power—our cultural exports, democratic ideals, and diplomatic leadership—matters as much as military might,” says Dr. Aamir Hassan, a foreign-policy expert at the Council on Foreign Relations. “If actors like Mark Hamill contemplate permanent exile, it isn’t just celebrity gossip. It’s emblematic of a broader retreat in confidence.” Indeed, several European newspaper editorials have seized upon Hamill’s confession, framing it as evidence of an American decline in popular esteem.
Speculation has flared over where Hamill might have relocated, had he followed through. Canada, Australia, and various European nations top the list—countries that share similar democratic frameworks and lifestyles. In Canada, passport offices reported a minor uptick in inquiries in the week following the election, though many were from everyday citizens rather than Hollywood luminaries. New Zealand’s Tourist Board even issued a light-hearted tweet: “Mark, we have flat whites and stunning landscapes. You’re welcome anytime.”
Hamill himself downplayed these rumors, smiling wryly when asked if he had already applied for residency elsewhere. “Not yet,” he said. “I still love cornrows on the Fourth of July, barbecues with friends, and watching meteor showers from my backyard.” His affection for quintessentially American experiences serves as a poignant reminder: this was not a flight of convenience but a genuine struggle between despair and hope.
In Hollywood, responses ranged from empathy to indifference. Fellow actors such as George Takei and Susan Sarandon praised Hamill’s courage in voicing his doubts. Takei, a Japanese-American civil-rights icon, tweeted: “When heroes admit fear, it gives us permission to face our own.” Others, like action star Gerard Butler, offered a more pragmatic perspective: “We live here. We vote. We stay and fight for what we believe in.”
Yet many in the industry remain cautious. The entertainment business depends heavily on domestic goodwill: studios are loath to alienate sizable voting blocs. As such, most major guilds and agencies declined comment, preferring to focus on ongoing and upcoming projects rather than political drama.
Is Hamill an outlier, or a voice for a silent majority? Recent polling suggests deep divisions. A Washington Post-ABC News survey conducted in January 2025 found that 42 percent of Americans would consider emigrating if the political climate continued to deteriorate; among those aged 18–34, the figure rose to 58 percent. Meanwhile, confidence in America’s role as “global leader” fell to its lowest point in two decades.
Sasha Nguyen, a 27-year-old software engineer from Seattle, says she felt vindicated by Hamill’s candor. “When someone of his stature says he’s worried, it resonates,” Nguyen explains. “I’ve been saving money for a move to Berlin—just in case. It’s not that I hate America; I love it. But I’m tired of feeling like our best days are behind us.”
To what extent can celebrity commentary influence real-world politics? Dr. Delaney Park, a political scientist at Stanford University, notes that while entertainers rarely sway election outcomes, they can shape national conversations. “The phenomenon of ‘elite cueing’—where public figures signal opinions that their followers adopt—is well documented,” Park says. “Mark Hamill’s remarks may not change ballots, but they could intensify the sense of crisis among certain demographics.”
Other experts argue that the focus on celebrity departures can distract from substantive policy debates. “Dwelling on where people might move misses the root issues,” contends Dr. Miguel Alvarez of the Brookings Institution. “We should be asking: how do we strengthen institutions, bridge divides, and restore confidence in democratic governance?”
Hamill himself acknowledges that thoughts of leaving were ultimately a wake-up call. “When I came back to my senses, I realized running away accomplishes nothing,” he told Greene. “If we want to save this experiment in self-governance, we have to stay, engage, and rebuild.” Since then, the actor has intensified his involvement in voter-registration campaigns, partnered with civic-education nonprofits, and participated in bipartisan town-hall forums.
In April 2025, he joined a panel at Washington’s Newseum titled “Stars and the State: Celebrity Voices in Civic Life.” Flanked by veterans, scholars, and grassroots organizers, Hamill urged attendees to treat democracy as a relay race: “We’re handed the baton. We can’t drop it, lest we fail those who come after us.”
As the country braces for further polarization and the 2026 midterms loom, Hamill’s cautionary tale remains a potent reminder of the stakes. Will the United States renew its commitment to alliances, to climate accords, and to the rule of law? Or will isolationist impulses prevail, consigning American leadership to the history books?
For many, Hamill’s internal struggle—caught between fear of decline and love of country—mirrors their own. Whether his words will spark a groundswell of civic renewal or simply another round of internet chatter is uncertain. But one thing is clear: when a beloved figure who once battled an interstellar empire questions his homeland’s destiny, it demands our attention.
Mark Hamill’s confession that he “thought twice about leaving the United States” after Trump’s 2024 victory transcends celebrity drama. It exposes deep anxieties about national identity, global influence, and the resilience of democratic ideals. More than a Hollywood headline, it is a clarion call for Americans to confront their doubts, reengage in public life, and reaffirm the values that propelled the nation to greatness. Whether America heeds that call—or drifts further from its founding promise—may well define the next chapter in its extraordinary saga.
