The shot that grazed Donald Trump’s ear is just another reminder of how the United States, unique among the dominant English-speaking countries, remains subject to both actual violence and threats of violence. Over the past two centuries, four American presidents have been killed, and there have been numerous attempts, most recently on Ronald Reagan.
In contrast, only one British prime minister has been assassinated. Not a single Canadian or Australian leader has been killed, although one Aussie prime minister, Harold Holt, disappeared in 1967; many think he drowned in a swimming accident, although some also see political conspiracies. Political violence, of course, occurs in all these countries, but not anything like what we see in the United States.
Why is this? One has to start with the country’s origins. The United States is the only British colony with a predominately Anglo population to break violently from the mother country. Canada, Australia and, of course, the United Kingdom’s political systems have a history of accommodation, with the Crown gradually ceding power to the colonies as well as the British commoners. Continuity, as epitomized by the Royal family, has its advantages.
America, on the other hand, was a revolutionary state and appealed to an independent spirit that, at times, lurched into violence. Compared to other British offshoots, Americans tend to resist control, even when it may be useful, as in the case of guns. America is also a military superpower and has a long history of engaging in warfare well beyond its borders. Unlike Britain, which is no longer an empire, nor any of its other offshoots, the U.S. remains a dominant global force.
To be sure, Canada and Australia control larger land masses, but the U.S. is by far the largest anglophone country (unless you include India, where many speak English as a second language). Its population of over 330 million is almost three times as large as the combined inhabitants of Canada, Australia and the United Kingdom. Its size and diversity create a naturally complex, and combative, political culture.
Federalism, a critical part of the U.S. Constitution, is designed to accommodate regional differences in a way that’s not as evident today in Britain and Australia, and increasingly Canada, despite the unique status of Quebec. In the U.S., different states and regions can maintain very different political economies and cultures. A large part of the country, the south as well as Texas, were once independent countries, and fought bitterly to retain their independence. This part of the country — which is becoming increasingly dominant, both demographically and economically — forms the base of support for Trump and the GOP.
These divides, and the country’s rebellious roots, help explain some of its increasingly vicious political culture. Canadians, Australians and Brits may have their heated squabbles, but in the U.S., the divides are sharper. This can be seen by the attempts on both sides to blame the assassination attempt on the rhetoric of the other side.
Democrats point to the sometimes needlessly violent rhetoric expressed by Trump and some of his more rabid followers. And to be sure, Trump does engage in provocative rhetoric, such as raising the spectre of treason trials for disobedient military officials and cheering on supporters who clearly sought to overturn a democratic election. Generally, most establishment voices, such as the Center for Strategic & International Studies, still maintain that “right-wing extremists pose the most significant terrorism threat to the United States.”
And, to be sure, some Republicans, like Florida Sen. Rick Scott and vice-presidential nominee J.D. Vance, have been all too quick, as the usually pro-Biden Atlantic put it, to increase the temperature. Both blamed President Joe Biden and the Democrats for what Scott called “an assassination attempt by a madman inspired by the rhetoric of the radical left.” Yet we still know little of the shooter’s motives and, as a loner and likely a nut, it’s certain he did not get his instructions from the White House or the Democratic National Committee.
Some conservatives have even been critical of Trump’s appeals for unity following the attack. But in contrast to the mainstream media narrative, much of America’s recent political violence comes from the left. Prominent Republicans — such as House Majority Leader Steve Scalise, Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh and Sen. Rand Paul — have been attacked or threatened in recent years, usually by people embracing progressive ideology.
Sadly, President Biden and his backers, perhaps sensing no other path to victory, seem determined to create a sense of political hysteria, treating Trump as a potential Hitlerian figure, as a series of articles in the once-sane New Republic magazine did.
Trump is many things but his similarities to the German Fuehrer are pretty far-fetched given his Jewish grandchildren and his lack of any strong ideology or a well-organized militia like the Nazi SA — or, for that matter, any record of cracking down on free speech. Censorship, if anything, has been more the work of his progressive enemies. The constant lawfare against Trump — such as the Stormy Daniels trial — seems more like something from Stalinist Russia, turning Trump’s personally despicable behaviour into a serious felony.
The depth of hatred against Trump is so deep that an advisor to Biden super-donor Reid Hoffman, co-founder of LinkedIn, suggested that the shooting may have been staged. As for violent rhetoric, Biden’s assertion that, “It’s time to put Trump in a bull’s-eye,” seems to fit the bill. Shortly after condemning the assassination attempt, Biden reverted back to his heated rhetoric about Trump being a “threat to democracy.”
When it comes to discouraging political violence, Democrats have been selective in their zeal. Democrats rightly condemned the shameful events of January 6, but have showed far less zeal in cracking down on far more extensive violence and vandalism from inner-city rioters during the summer of 2020, or law-breaking pro-Hamas demonstrators more recently.
Ultimately, tolerance for political violence, both real and rhetorical, right and left, represents a danger not just to America, but to what is left of the liberal democratic world. America, for better or worse, remains the most successful and powerful republic since Rome, where the rise of political violence led to several civil wars that laid the foundation for the fall of the republic and the establishment of the empire.
A top-dominated social and economic structure has long served as a precondition for civil unrest, social disorder and the rise of autocracy. In modern times, this is more likely to be implemented by the technocratic elite than by a charismatic dictator. The more America resembles Rome as a society ruled by an arrogant elite with a growing underclass, the better chance that we will see populist efforts — and elite reaction — similar to those that undermined the last great republic two millennia ago.
National Post