Commentary: Multiple forms of our political violence

We all should denounce political violence unequivocally. In doing so, it is tempting to claim killing political leaders is un-American, to believe we are beyond such atrocities more common in developing nations and young democracies. History teaches this is not the case.

The assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump and killing of firefighter Corey Comperatore were tragic and reprehensible. A dark day in challenging times, indeed. I pray it does not prove to be a lit match thrown on the pile of dry kindling we’ve been stacking for years.

By many measures, we are as divided now as any time since the Civil War or the upheaval of the 1960s. If that’s true, then I’m afraid we may be in another American assassination season.

During those two eras, President Abraham Lincoln and President John F. Kennedy were killed. So, too, were Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Medgar Evers assassinated, among others. In times of division, the country I love tends to get violent.

Social scientists have been warning of this current threat. In a survey from a few years ago, the Public Religion Research Institute found 23 percent of Americans agreed “because things have gotten so far off track, true American patriots may have to resort to violence in order to save our country.”

For Republicans, that number is 33 percent. Among Republicans who support Trump, that number rises to an astounding 41 percent.

‘Othering’ and political violence

As we approach the 250th anniversary of our independence, we like to claim the United States is the longest surviving democracy on earth, but this stretches the truth.

No woman could vote in the United States until just over 100 years ago. The Voting Rights Act was signed by President Lyndon Johnson in 1965. It was less than 60 years ago that non-white Americans truly secured the right to vote. That legislation was possible only when the nation witnessed the political violence perpetrated against John Lewis and other marchers on “Bloody Sunday” in Selma.

We’re not even 60 years into our attempt at a true multiracial democracy. The outcome of this uniquely American experiment is yet to be determined.

We all carry responsibility in the outcome of this democratic experiment, and we hinder it when we “otherize” our fellow citizens. By labeling those with different convictions as enemies and threatening political opponents with jail time, we have fanned the flames of violence.

By judging a neighbor’s worth based on their party affiliation and curating our social media feeds to drown out contrary views, we’ve fed a hyper-partisan culture that leads to dehumanization.

Once we acknowledge our own role in this context of violence, we also should recognize the attempted assassination of a politician is only one type of political violence.

Other forms of political violence

Driving through the night more than 600 miles to an El Paso Walmart to target and kill 23 Saturday-morning shoppers in an anti-Latino attack based on the racist, anti-immigrant, great replacement theory is political violence.

Joining a Bible study at an historic Black church, then gunning down nine Christians because they were “taking over our country” is political violence.

The State of Texas executing the poor, the abused, the mentally ill, the addicted and those with inadequate counsel is political violence.

Snatching nursing migrant children from the arms of their mothers hoping to deter others from fleeing to the United States is political violence.

Putting razor wire-covered buoys in the Rio Grande and other fortifications on the border we know will injure migrants or drive them to cartel coyotes is political violence.

Sending an endless supply of bombs and weapons of war used to kill children and civilians in Gaza is political violence.

If the truth is ever going to set us free, we first must be humble enough to recognize we’re not so exceptional. Our self-delusions need to die before another sister or brother becomes a victim of political violence. Only by living the truth that we’re all created equal in the image of God will we ever douse the rising flames.

Stephen Reeves is executive director of Fellowship Southwest. This article is adapted from where it first appeared on the Fellowship Southwest blog.