- After a would-be assassin shot at former U.S. President and current Republican candidate Donald Trump on 13 July, the country’s political leaders, especially Trump himself, should avoid stoking division in order to reduce risks of violence as the November election approaches
The United States’ politics took a dangerous turn over the weekend when an apparently lone gunman tried to assassinate former President Donald Trump at a rally in the state of Pennsylvania, injuring Trump and two others, and killing one of his supporters. The shooter’s motives remain unclear but the incident at least momentarily heightened fears that the country’s already divided politics could transform into something far uglier in the run-up to November’s presidential elections. Though a victim in this context, Trump’s norm-shattering appetite for confrontation – he helped mobilise the violent mob that attacked the U.S. Capitol on 6 January 2021 – augmented the sense of peril. Fortunately the immediate risks created by the weekend shooting have since eased. Incumbent President Joe Biden and other leaders in his Democratic Party called for unity and non-violence, and Trump himself has so far steered clear of escalatory rhetoric. Some prominent members of his Republican party initially sought to lay blame for the incident on their political opponents but much of that rhetoric has subsided.
Still, the shooting remains an important reminder of how quickly the politics of this polarised nation, awash in guns, could go off the rails. Responsibility for avoiding that scenario falls first and foremost on Trump given his historic willingness to set Americans against each other. But fairly or not, efforts to avoid escalation will also create burdens for Biden and his Democratic party, which have placed the threat Trump poses to democracy in the United States at the centre of their political agenda. The shooting cannot be allowed to derail their advocacy for that agenda, but it does require all political leaders to take extra pains to remind their audience that democratic systems heal themselves at the ballot box, and not through violence. The more those messages can be delivered jointly by representatives of both parties – challenging public perceptions of a nation hopelessly divided – the better.
A Fragile Moment
The assassination attempt took place at a campaign event in Butler County, Pennsylvania, one of the handful of “battleground states” that could decide the outcome of the presidential election. That vote is expected to pit Trump, the Republican party nominee, against Biden, the presumptive Democratic candidate. Standing at a podium, Trump swatted at his ear as the would-be assassin’s bullet grazed it and then dove to the ground. As Secret Service agents lifted him up, hustling him from the stage, he pumped his fist, exclaiming “Fight, fight, fight!” A photo capturing that moment – Trump defiant, his face streaked with blood and the U.S. flag billowing behind – seems destined for the annals of U.S. political journalism. But what kind of chapter it will illustrate is not yet clear.
The two candidates acted responsibly in the immediate aftermath. President Joe Biden placed a supportive call to Trump, who received it civilly, with both men offering positive readouts to the public. The president then addressed the nation from the Oval Office, deploring violence and calling on the public to rally in support of national unity. After some casting about, the Trump campaign settled into a relatively low profile for several days, eschewing both speculation about the shooter’s motives and incendiary rhetoric.
Trump’s co-partisans were more uneven. Republican Senator J.D. Vance (who has since joined the Republican ticket as vice presidential candidate) blamed the attack on what he characterised as Democrats’ claims that Trump is ”an authoritarian fascist who must be stopped at all costs”. Other prominent Republicans invoked Biden’s private comment that “it’s time to put Trump in a bullseye”(wording the president later said he regretted) and earlier remarks saying Trump was using “Hitler’s language”. The complaints were dismissed as overblown by Democrats and their allies, many of whom also pointed out Trump’s history of flirtations with political violence. During his last term in office, these culminated in the 6 January 2021 mob assault on the U.S. Congress to disrupt the transfer of power, for which the former president remains unrepentant. Moreover, recent months have seen several Republican leaders appearing to embracearmed violence in the context of the present campaign. In the event, some Republicans who at first appeared inclined to paint Democrats as complicit backed off, and by the second night of the Republican nominating convention in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the party’s rhetoric seemed to be moving away from the often angry cadences of a traditional Trump rally toward a more unifying message.
Nothing in Trump’s record or even recent acts suggests he will move fully away from the confrontational rhetoric that has defined his political career.
There are explanations for the change in tone beyond concern about avoiding a dangerous escalation. That the shooter was a registered Republican without apparent ideological motive may have drawn some of the political poison from the incident. Republicans may also want to avoid turmoil as they work to present a strong and confident picture at their Milwaukee convention. Plus, in contrast to late 2020 and early 2021, after Trump had lost the election, the former president – for all his legal and other baggage – now appears to have momentum. Although the race is still close, Biden’s halting, unsteady performance in a nationally televised debate with Trump on 27 June have led some Democratic leaders, donors and allies to call on the 81-year-old president to yield his spot at the top of the Democratic ticket, arguing that he cannot win and will drag down Democratic candidates for lower offices. The president and his inner circle have so far resisted those calls, which quieted after the 13 July shooting. They have not, however, disappeared. Democrats’ division plays to Trump’s advantage. He faces an opponent who many in his own party see as weakened but who for now remains ensconced as their candidate.
One question now is how Trump will use the platform afforded by the Republican convention in Milwaukee, which has already seen the party formally nominate him and Vance, and will culminate in the nominee’s acceptance speech on 19 July. Certainly, there would be a strong civic and political logic for Trump to take a statesperson’s tone that could appeal to fence-sitting voters – drawing on themes that some speakers have already sounded – and he may well do that. Indeed, he himself said he has recrafted his speech to focus on national unity rather than swipes at Biden.
But while fine words at a fragile moment are important, they can only have enduring impact if the tone they set is sustained in the campaign that surrounds them. Nothing in Trump’s record or even recent acts suggests he will move fully away from the confrontational rhetoric that has defined his political career. On 15 July he told his social media followers that the proper response to the 13 July shooting would be for “the Democrat Justice Department” to drop all its “witch hunts” in state and federal courts, including those related to his role on 6 January 2021. On the same day, in a video address to the convention, Trump implied that the 2020 election had been stolen from him, and that Republican voters should remain vigilant come November because “these people want to cheat and do cheat”. It has become routine for Republicans to dodge questions about whether they will accept the results of the coming election, and Trump’s defence of imprisoned 6 January rioters – whom he refers to as “hostages” and suggests he may pardon – is widely seen as a signal that he will protect those who use violence on his behalf.
Meanwhile, Trump’s Democratic opponents and their supporters have been at once uniform in their condemnation of political violence, and deeply reluctant to tone down their characterisations of Trump as a danger to U.S. democratic traditions and the world order that the U.S. helped construct. They worry, with seeming justification, that Trump will erode the guardrails that have kept the already enormously powerful U.S. presidency in check by dismissing much of the civil service, weaponising the Justice Department against political enemies, and clothing himself in the broad grant of immunity recently memorialised in a landmark decision by the U.S. Supreme Court. Both publicly and privately Democrats say that they cannot accurately portray the electoral stakes without making clear that these kinds of steps would have a transformative and deeply destructive impact on U.S. constitutional traditions. If that makes him sound like an existential threat to democracy, they say, it is with good reason.
Assessing the Risk
The events of the past week are neither reassuring when it comes to assessing the risks of broader political violence in the U.S. nor necessarily a harbinger of certain escalation. Some of the risk factors that led Crisis Group to sound an early warning alarm in the run-up to the 2020 presidential election remain. Both sides arguably sense even more this time around that the stakes are enormous. Polarisation has by all outward appearances deepened, and the siloing of political media persists. Incendiary rhetoric, often bordering on endorsement of violence, is arguably more commonplace, particularly from some quarters of the Republican party. Vast quantities of weapons around the country (there are estimated to be hundreds of millions of guns in private hands) are easily accessible.
Some of the factors that Crisis Group identified as heightening risks of election-related violence in 2020 have receded.
That said, some of the factors that Crisis Group identified as heightening risks of election-related violence in 2020 have receded, at least somewhat. Four years ago, the U.S. was on knife’s edge amid the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown and associated shocks, and in the aftermath of the George Floyd killing and subsequent waves of protest and counter-protest. Today, the economy is rebounding from the lockdown, and the 2020 protests have long since subsided. In the wake of the 6 January 2021 insurrection, law enforcement efforts have degraded the militias that assaulted the Capitol that day. According to officials and researchers, groups have been stripped of their leadership cadres. Many have been arrested, undercutting their ability to organise, particularly nationally. Their members report fears of legal consequences for violence and worries about infiltration. Events could still trigger a new wave of mobilisation, particularly if Trump is favoured to win by a significant margin and falls short nonetheless, leading to cries of election rigging. But the milieu as a whole is less coherent than four years ago. It also matters that Trump is not in the Oval Office, in control of the state security apparatus and using that platform to undermine confidence in the election’s integrity and whip up supporters.
As for whether the 13 July shooting will become a source of snowballing conspiracy theories and engine of violent protest – that could still happen but right now it seems far from inevitable. The shooter’s motives are not yet fully known, but if it is confirmed that his logic was fundamentally personal, a phenomenon familiar from the mass shootings that have become a fixture of U.S. national life, then the attempted assassination’s political saliency could diminish further. Helen Comperatore, whose husband Corey died protecting his family from the sniper’s bullets, declined to take a condolence call from the president, but also refused to politicise her husband’s murder. She told a reporter, “I support Trump, that’s who I’m voting for, but I don’t have ill-will toward Biden. He didn’t do anything bad to my husband. A 20-year-old despicable kid did”.
A Plea for Non Violence
While the 13 July shooting did not send the U.S. barreling down a dark path, that path still awaits if the nation’s political leaders do not take seriously the risk of violence that their words and actions can either heighten or diminish. There is no question that here the lion’s share of the burden lies with former President Trump. Although he was a victim of the 13 July shooting, he stands alone among the country’s living political leaders in having mobilised political violence in the past. He should break with form and, understanding all too well the impact his words can have on his supporters, measure them more carefully not only during the convention but throughout the campaign. In the same vein, he should also stop demonising his political opponents as cheaters and lionising the 6 January rioters as heroes, and send the strongest possible message of non-violence to his supporters. The odds of this seem small given his political history but it is hardly too much to ask of a man who could well find himself leading the world’s most powerful country in half a year’s time.
Although Trump bears the main burden, Democrats need to be part of the risk management effort too. While they have every right to press their political case against President Trump, and should not be required to trim their sails in describing the potential implications of his election both at home and abroad, they should take extra pains to make clear that the challenge they are describing can and should be addressed in one way: through peaceful organisation and at the ballot box in November.
One especially effective way for both parties to send a calming message to their supporters would be to do so together. Short video and radio spots featuring Democratic and Republican political leaders jointly calling for mutual understanding can be an effective way of dampening the impulse toward political violence, particularly in fraught constituency contests. Given Trump’s lock on the party, Republican leaders may be reluctant to participate if they do not receive a positive signal from the candidate himself. He should make clear that doing so will not cost them his good graces. For their part, if and when they have the opportunity to join forces with Republican leaders to advocate for civic participation and tolerance of dissonant political views, Democrats should seize it.
An Uneasy Moment
The U.S. is at an uneasy moment of potentially enormous political change. Whatever the shooter’s motives, the 13 July assassination attempt served as a stark reminder that such moments can be accompanied by violence. Right now, that seems neither inevitable nor even likely. But the risk remains, and national leaders – starting with candidate Trump in his acceptance speech on 19 July – must do all they can to steer the United States away from the dangers with which some have too easily toyed.
The above is a statement by International Crisis Group (ICG) dated July 18, 2024