Did the constant portrayal of Donald Trump as an authoritarian threat to democracy play a role in his attempted assassination? We don’t know. Ronald Reagan was certainly hated by the left, but his shooter was motivated by a desire to impress Jodie Foster. Still, the attempt on Trump’s life—which resulted in the killing of an attendee at his rally—has exposed a profound double standard in American political rhetoric.
Since Trump emerged on the scene in 2015, politicians, academics, and journalists have drawn connections between his rhetoric and instances of violence. At the same time, they have overlooked, excused, or embraced rhetoric that frames Trump as an existential threat to the American political system. If these commentators wish to be taken seriously after Trump’s shooting, they must adopt a consistent approach: either ceasing to connect populist rhetoric to violence, or acknowledging that the same may be true of rhetoric indulged in by the left establishment.
Attempts to tie Trump to political violence have relied heavily on the notion of “stochastic terror”—a phenomenon said to arise when a political leader creates an atmosphere of fear or hatred so intense that it tends to lead to violence, even without any direct call to violent action. As Vox put it, “even if people in power don’t specifically call their followers to violence, by entertaining it as a legitimate tactic or by demonizing a political enemy on a platform capable of reaching millions of people, one of those millions will be inspired to violent action.” Similar articles have appeared in media outlets ranging from Mother Jones and The New Republic to The New York Times.
If this theory holds, why shouldn’t it apply to some of the rhetoric employed against Trump? Speaking on MSNBC, former Sen. Claire McCaskill said that Trump was “even worse than” Hitler and Mussolini. A June news release from the Democratic Party declared, “If Donald Trump retakes power the survival of our democracy will be at risk.” Biden himself, in the wake of his disastrous debate performance last month, tweeted: “Donald Trump is a genuine threat to this nation. He’s a threat to our freedom. He’s a threat to our democracy. He’s literally a threat to everything America stands for.”
Countless academics and journalists have echoed this rhetoric, which received a vivid expression on the cover of the June issue of The New Republic. The cover transposed Donald Trump’s portrait on an infamous 1932 campaign poster for Adolf Hitler. The headline warned of “American Fascism” in the Fraktur font preferred by the Nazis.
“A true de-escalation would mean dialing back claims that Trump is an existential threat.”
Many people are now calling for a de-escalation in political rhetoric, and rightly so. But a true de-escalation will mean dialing back claims that Trump is an existential threat to democracy, rather than merely the latest incarnation of an American populist tradition going back to Andrew Jackson. Whether or not such rhetoric encourages acts of political violence, it misunderstands the nature of Trump’s appeal. As we have long argued, Trump’s rise speaks to the nation’s desire for moderation—just as Biden’s election did, in different ways.
There are, of course, many legitimate grounds for criticizing Trump. And American democracy has always been characterized by rough-and-tumble rhetoric. But those who have spent years warning of the rise of “stochastic terror” appear to believe that such rhetoric is never legitimate when employed on Trump’s behalf, and always legitimate when employed against him.
Strangely enough, it became clear this week that leading Democrats don’t actually view Trump as a threat to democracy. As Ezra Klein reported, that is why they have thus far failed to replace the flailing Biden as their presidential nominee. Perhaps it’s time for leading Democrats to align their rhetoric with what they actually believe.