Photograph by Nathaniel St. Clair
On April 25, one Cole Allen allegedly charged a security checkpoint outside the Washington Hilton ballroom where many of the nation’s most prominent politicians, journalists, and entertainers were gathered for the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, bearing both arms and ill will toward some or all of those inside — almost certainly including US president Donald Trump.
I’ve been in that ballroom. I’ve also been outside the exit, mere feet away, where there’s a historical plaque commemorating the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan, by John Hinckley, in 1981. I was there even as Donald Trump was too, campaigning for the support of several thousand anti-government extremists at the 2024 Libertarian National Convention. At which event, it’s worth noting, no one tried to kill him (that I know of, anyway).
Allen was quickly taken down after shooting a Secret Service agent (whose bulletproof vest fortunately stopped the bullet). It seems unlikely that he’ll get much enjoyment out of his future lifestyle. And whatever the reasons for his resort to attempted political assassination, the attempt almost certainly didn’t serve his desired ends … and wouldn’t have even if he’d been successful.
This is not the part where I clutch my pearls about the evils of “political violence.” There’s no creature on Earth more violent than a politician, albeit usually at arm’s length and behind a wall of security to insulate him or her from negative consequences.
Politics IS violence, and I don’t see how shooting a politician is inherently any more immoral than, say, ordering the murder of an eight-year-old American girl (Nawar Anwar al-Awlaki) or the bombing of a school in Iran, both of which Trump himself bears responsibility for.
But it’s probably no LESS immoral, either.
I’m no pacifist. I fully support violence in immediate self-defense of one’s own life or the lives of innocent others, and you won’t find me shedding any tears for those who, having overseen and ordered non-defensive violence, eventually pay the ultimate price for their misdeeds.
BUT!
When considering an attempt to kill someone, even if the target arguably deserves to die, the likely consequences of one’s own actions are worth considering.
If Donald Trump — or any other president — dies at the hands of an assassin, two such consequences follow as night follows day.
First, that president becomes a martyr. His party and/or movement become stronger, not weaker. Some of the things he or she was trying to accomplish become far more likely to happen through a process of lionization and memorialization. The assassination of John F. Kennedy arguably resulted in (to name two big things) passage of the Civil Rights Act and the moon landing. Both things might have happened anyway, but his death put them on rails.
Second, the regime that president led opportunistically uses the assassination to expand its police and surveillance powers, and clamp down on dissent. Especially the varieties of dissent associated with the assassin’s persona.
If you happen to be “anti-Trump,” the LAST thing you should want is for him to die violently in office.
Or, for that matter, even non-violently. If he has a perfectly ordinary fatal coronary tomorrow, he’ll still get the “martyr effect” (and a certain sub-set of his supporters will forever suspect foul play regardless of the evidence).
Absent revolution, which seems unlikely in this country and at this time, taking out figurehead politicians empowers rather than enervates their supporters, cronies, and hangers-on.
Don’t like Trump, personally or politically? Your best bet is to persuade others to agree with you and start building sentiment and infrastructure for better times … then wait him out. His time will come without your violent assistance.
