The United States has long prided itself on being a nation in which political differences are aired by way of ballots, not bullets. In recent years, however, violence has too often invaded our public square, shattering lives, feeding a general atmosphere of fear and distrust, and undermining the democratic ideals we claim to cherish.
As we count down to Election Day on Nov. 4, we must recommit to the principle that civil political discourse — not intimidation, assault or bloodshed — is the only legitimate path forward.
Consider the troubling list of recent events. On Jan. 6, 2021, rioters stormed the U.S. Capitol, brutally attacking police officers in an effort to halt the peaceful transfer of power to then President-elect Joseph Biden, a Democrat. Five people died in the rioting. Since then, President Trump, a Republican, has survived two assassination attempts.
In 2022, Paul Pelosi, the husband of former Democratic House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, was bludgeoned with a hammer in the Pelosis’ home in San Francisco. In April of this year, a man attempted to burn down the residence of Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, a fellow Democrat.
In June, Minnesota State Rep. Melissa Hortman, a Democrat, was killed in a targeted attack at her home, along with her husband, Mark Hortman. In a separate incident, Minnesota State Sen. John Hoffman, also a Democrat, and his wife were wounded, allegedly by the same gunman.
On Sept. 10, one day before our national commemoration of the worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil, the assassination of conservative political activist Charlie Kirk shook the nation.
All of these acts, though politically motivated in different ways, shared a tragic theme: a rejection of reasoned debate in favor of violence. The perpetrators’ actions defied both justice and ethics. Political leaders, regardless of party, must unequivocally denounce violence not only when it is directed at their allies, but also when it strikes their adversaries.
The answers to bitter disagreements can be found instead in the very foundation of American law: our Constitution, which guarantees freedom of speech, association and petition. These rights were spelled out so that individuals and groups could argue, persuade and organize without fear of reprisal.
Violence, by contrast, seeks to silence opponents permanently. It is not an expression of political conviction but rather a repudiation of it — an attempt to destroy debate rather than contribute to it. That is why every civilized society criminalizes assault, murder and terrorism. To resort to such methods is not only to break the law but also to tear at the moral fabric that holds communities together.
Violence corrodes democracy itself. When citizens and leaders live under constant threat, they retreat from public engagement. Ordinary people withdraw from activism. Elected officials alter decisions out of fear for their families’ safety. Journalists censor themselves to avoid becoming targets. These chilling effects shrink the civic space, and create an atmosphere of suspicion and anger.
The way forward requires a cultural shift that emphasizes respect, empathy and resilience even in the face of profound disagreements. Everyone from students to business executives to politicians to the media should refuse to share disinformation, avoid demonizing those with whom we have differing opinions and welcome calm, reasoned argument that can change minds more effectively than threats ever could.
Passionate debate is fine. Disagreement is natural in a diverse society, and progress often emerges from that vigorous discussion. In stark contrast, every time a political leader is targeted, every time a citizen is attacked for his or her beliefs, the American experiment itself is weakened.
At this point in our country’s history, the stakes could not be higher. We must choose civility over cruelty, and persuasion over violence.