Americans are learning that democracy is a fragile thing. If it is taken for granted, it can wither almost imperceptibly.
Signs of that withering are everywhere. I won’t rehearse them here.
As Yale Law professor Jack Balkin explains, over the last several decades, the United States has witnessed a process of “constitutional rot.” Constitutional rot, he says, “is a process of decay in the features of our system of government that maintain it as a healthy democratic republic.”
It, Balkin argues, “is often a long and slow process of change and debilitation, which may be the work of many hands over many years…. Rot develops slowly and gradually and may be imperceptible in its earliest stages; sometimes features of constitutional rot are obvious, but sometimes they operate quietly in the background.”
Balkin notes that, “As constitutional rot occurs, our system becomes simultaneously less democratic and less republican. The political system becomes less democratic because the power of the state becomes less responsive to popular opinion and popular will.”
He continues, “The political system becomes less republican because representatives are no longer devoted to promoting the public good; instead, they seek to maintain themselves in power and please a relatively small set of powerful individuals and groups. When this happens, the republican system of representation fails—even if the system remains formally representative in the sense that we still have elections—and the result is oligarchy.”
Here I’d like to focus on another aspect of constitutional rot that Balkin neglects: the use of violence to settle political differences or to express political grievances. Democratic constitutions are undermined every time people use force in those ways.
As the murder of Charlie Kirk reminds us, the resort to political violence and political assassination is becoming a prominent feature of American political life. The attack on Kirk was reprehensible and should be decried by everyone who is committed to democracy in this country.
In my view, political violence is not simply a matter of the motives of those who use it. Violence becomes political when it is directed at targets who exemplify or stand for a political viewpoint and whose death has political meaning.
By that measure, whatever the reason that Tyler Robinson, who has been arrested for assassinating Kirk, might have had for doing it, the killing qualifies as political violence. That label also would be appropriate to describe the assassinations of two Democratic state legislators in Minnesota, the attempts on the life of President Trump and Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, and even Luigi Mangionne’s December 2024 killing of insurance company C.E.O. Brian Thompson in New York.
In a well-functioning democracy, political differences are settled by ballots, not bullets. “Democracy,” as former Congressman Richard Gephardt once said, “is a substitute for war to resolve differences.”
The threat of political violence can also “stifle critical forms of public engagement…and chill free expression.” The journalist Laura Bischoff recently observed that “Americans are shrinking from civic duties, such as serving as poll workers, because they fear potential threats and violence. Members of Congress, state legislators, and other officeholders risk their personal safety if they express an unpopular viewpoint.”
Today, large majorities of Americans understand that and see politically-motivated violence in the country as “a major problem.” This should not be a surprise.
When people are told repeatedly that elections are rigged, and as they lose confidence in the electoral process, political violence increases. In June 2024, only 47% of Americans said they felt “completely or fairly confident that American elections are free, fair, and secure.” 36% said that they felt “slightly or not at all confident.”
When opponents are treated as enemies and political contests are presented as life and death struggles, the climate is ripe for resort to political violence. That is why the fact that during the 2024 campaign, “Both Democratic and Republican candidates were far more likely to mention the other party, its policies, and its candidates rather than external threats, including foreign adversaries, as the main threats to democracy,” is so troubling.
The Carnegie Endowment’s Rachel Kleinfeld explains that “as partisan leaders and media personalities demonize the other party, they can create feelings of rage among followers who fear the consequences of the other party’s perceived actions. Dehumanizing and denigrating rhetoric that normalizes violence or threats against some groups turns that sense of fear and anger into a target by making certain groups appear to be both threatening and, at the same time, vulnerable.”
Kleinfeld notes that “the normalization of violence by political leaders, in particular, may provide a sense that acting violently against those groups will be permitted, may not be punished, or could be lauded and turn one into a hero.”
She argues that “the individuals committing political violence may… even be fairly apolitical. But in seeking to connect to and belong within a political community, they may find leaders who make violence seem normal or even laudable, build followers’ rage, and suggest a target for that anger in a political figure, government official, or minority scapegoat… And hints that political leaders accept such violence reduces concerns about the consequences of their violence, which might otherwise stop them from taking part in a rally or other event where their aggression could manifest.”
The closest that Balkin comes to treating political violence as a symptom of constitutional rot is when he says, “By demonizing their opposition, and attempting to crush those who stand in their way, political actors risk increasing and widening cycles of retribution from their opponents. This may lead to deadlock and a political system that is increasingly unable to govern effectively. This, in turn, can cause even greater loss of confidence in government, distrust, and polarization, hastening constitutional rot.”
Political violence is both a symptom of constitutional rot and an accelerant. It can be a way of “crushing” opponents and exacting retribution.
That is now a sad reality of American politics. As we contemplate that sad reality, there is enough blame to go around.
But, especially in light of President Trump’s statement pinning the killing of Charlie Kirk on the radical left, it is important to remember that “studies from the Global Terrorism Database, Reuters, and the National Institute of Justice, using different methodologies, all confirm that the vast number of violent plots, murders, and ideological attacks have come from the right in recent years, and have targeted not only political opponents on the left but also more moderate politicians on right.”
Whatever its source, democracy can neither survive nor thrive where violence and assassination are used to settle scores or silence people whose messages someone finds offensive. If we are to address the rot that is undermining our democracy, the American people will have to do what Spencer Cox, the Governor of Utah, advised in the wake of Charlie Kirk’s assassination: “Look in the mirror and see if you can find a better angel in there somewhere.”
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.
