Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Follow Us:
Top Stories

America’s Long History of Political Violence—and Why We Can’t Ignore It Now

From civil rights to Charlie Kirk: Why America’s legacy of political violence still shapes our democracy.

Opinion

America’s Long History of Political Violence—and Why We Can’t Ignore It Now

Political violence has deep roots in American history. From 1968 to today, Jeanne Sheehan Zaino explore why violence remains a force for change in U.S. society.

Getty Images, B.S.P.I.

In 1968, amid riots and assassinations, a magazine asked leading intellectuals why America was so violent. Among the responses was one that stood out—H. Rap Brown’s now-infamous line: “Violence is as American as cherry pie.”

Anthropologist Clifford Geertz dismissed the phrase as a cliché. But sociologist St. Clair Drake took it seriously. “However repulsive and shocking,” Drake wrote, Brown was “telling it like it is.” Americans, he said, must face the fact that their society is, by global standards, a very violent one.


That was April 1968. Martin Luther King Jr. had just been assassinated. Bobby Kennedy would be killed two months later. The decade had already seen the violent deaths of Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, and even George Lincoln Rockwell, leader of the American Nazi Party.

Today, as we process the murder of right-wing activist Charlie Kirk—which Utah Gov. Spencer Cox called a “political assassination”—Drake’s words feel as relevant as ever.

This killing didn’t happen in a vacuum. It joins a long and disturbing list: the plot to kidnap Michigan’s governor, the arson attack on Pennsylvania’s, the fatal shooting of a Minnesota state lawmaker and her husband, assassination attempts against Donald Trump, the brutal assault on Nancy Pelosi’s husband, and the recent murders of two Israeli staffers in D.C. and the UnitedHealth CEO.

This isn’t just polarization. It’s something deeper.

Yes, the rhetoric has gotten more toxic. Leaders on both the right and left blame each other. In his remarks after Kirk’s death, President Trump pointed to the “radical left.” Others blame social media, conspiracy theories, or partisan cable news. Those things matter.

But we can’t ignore the broader context: In America, violence has often been used as a tool for political change—not just by extremists, but by everyday people who’ve felt ignored or powerless.

That was Drake’s main point. Violence, he said, is often “a direct or indirect force for changing the status quo.” It’s what happens when people believe the system isn’t listening. This isn’t an excuse. It’s a warning.

A few months after Drake wrote those words, the National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence released a 350,000-word report. One of its key findings? That nearly every group in American history has used violence—either to protect themselves or to push for change. We’ve seen this play out time and again.

H. Rap Brown himself started in the nonviolent civil rights movement. He led the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). But over time, he lost faith in peaceful protest. He aligned with the Black Panther and declared that nonviolence in the face of injustice was not just ineffective, but immoral.

“Violence is necessary,” he said. “It’s part of America’s culture.”

The Black Panthers embraced militant self-defense. Their Ten-Point Program ended with a quote from the Declaration of Independence—the same one America’s Founders used to justify a revolution: “It is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government.”

It’s uncomfortable, but it’s true: Our country was born in political violence. And to this day, many Americans still believe it’s a legitimate response when they feel all other options have failed. We can't rewrite history, but we can learn from it.

We’ll never eliminate political violence by just condemning it after the fact. We have to make the system more responsive. The Founders deliberately made change hard—to protect against mob rule. But in doing so, they also made it easier for people to feel shut out.

Our challenge today is to protect liberty while making government work better for more people. That means strengthening voting rights, restoring faith in institutions, and creating real, peaceful avenues for change.

If we want to break the cycle, we need to make sure ballots always feel more powerful than bullets. That’s how we move forward—and how we ensure our democracy survives the next 250 years.

Jeanne Sheehan Zaino is a professor of political science at Iona University, a democracy visiting fellow at the Harvard Kennedy Schools' Ash Center for Democratic Governance and Innovation, senior democracy fellow at the Center for the Study of the Presidency & Congress, & a Bloomberg News political contributor.

Read More

Storytelling Is Foundational to Keeping Our Democracy Intact
man in black jacket holding black dslr camera

Storytelling Is Foundational to Keeping Our Democracy Intact

The Fulcrum is committed to nurturing the next generation of journalists. To learn about the many NextGen initiatives we are leading, click HERE.

We asked Daniela Mattson, a student at the University of Southern California and a Fulcrum Fellowship cohort member, to share her thoughts on what democracy means to her and her perspective on its current health.

Keep ReadingShow less
Juneteenth National Holiday Celebrated In Brooklyn, New York

People attend a Juneteenth event in Brower Park on June 19, 2026 in the Crown Heights neighborhood of the Brooklyn borough in New York City.

Michael M. Santiago / Getty Images

Juneteenth: Delayed Not Denied

Juneteenth is not merely a commemoration of June 19, 1865, when Union soldiers arrived in Galveston, Texas, and announced to the last enslaved Black Americans that they were free, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. What began as local community gatherings to mark the end of slavery has evolved into a national holiday, with traditions including parades, prayer services, family reunions, and reflection on the enduring struggle for freedom. Juneteenth serves as a mirror held up to the nation, compelling us to engage in self-examination. What have we been? Who are we? What might we yet become?

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, we are called to celebrate a quarter-millennium of democracy. Yet, what form of democracy are we being asked to honor? Is it the kind that repeatedly inscribes the word “liberty” only to erase it through violence? Or is it the kind that confronts its own failures and strives toward a justice that has been too long deferred?

Keep ReadingShow less