In September 2025, activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated while speaking at a Utah campus event. His death was shocking — not only for its brutality, but because it showed that political violence is not just a relic of the past or a threat on the horizon. It is part of our national identity. Today’s surge in violence follows patterns we’ve seen before. Let’s take a look at that history.
When Pope Alexander VI issued the Doctrine of Discovery in 1493, he gave theological and legal cover for European conquest of lands already inhabited by indigenous people. These papal bulls declared non-Christian peoples “less than” and their lands open for seizure. This was more than a geopolitical maneuver — it embedded into the Western imagination a belief in the inherent supremacy of some over others.
When the United States was founded nearly three centuries later, the Founders carried this worldview with them. In the Constitution, they enshrined compromises that upheld racial hierarchy:
- The 3/5 Compromise gave enslavers disproportionate power by counting enslaved people as partial humans.
- The Fugitive Slave Clause treated Black people as property to be returned.
- Indigenous sovereignty was denied, laying the groundwork for forced removal and massacres.
These legal structures weren’t neutral. They authorized violence: slave patrols, lynchings, Native removals enforced by militias, and the steady expansion of “whiteness” as the standard of belonging.
That seed has borne bitter fruit for centuries. In the United States, political violence has always been part of enforcing this hierarchy.
- In 1837, abolitionist editor Elijah Lovejoy was murdered by a pro-slavery mob for daring to print against bondage.
- After emancipation, the Colfax Massacre (1873) and the Wilmington coup (1898) used terror to crush Black political power during and after Reconstruction.
- Native peoples were targeted in state-sanctioned violence, culminating in the Wounded Knee Massacre (1890).
- In the 20th century, racial violence surged whenever Black communities flourished. The Tulsa Race Massacre (1921) destroyed “Black Wall Street,” while the Red Summer of 1919 saw dozens of cities erupt in white mob violence.
- The Civil Rights Movement was met with assassinations and bombings: Medgar Evers (1963), the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing (1963), the murders of James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner (1964), and of course, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (1968).
- White supremacist violence continued into our own time: the Greensboro Massacre (1979), the murder of Denver talk show host Alan Berg (1984), and mass shootings in Charleston (2015), Pittsburgh (2018), El Paso (2019), Buffalo (2022), and Allen, Texas (2023).
Across four centuries, violence has been used to enforce the same hierarchy: the supremacy of some over others.
We often think of white supremacy as something “out there,” belonging only to extremists. But if we are honest, we must ask: Where does it live inside us? In our unspoken fears, in the reflex to protect what is “ours,” in the subtle hierarchies we accept as normal. To live in peace, we must do the hard work of rooting it out of our own hearts and minds.
What we all yearn for is simple: a dignified life. A way to live securely, peacefully, and in community with one another. That dignity cannot be built on the subjugation of others — it can only grow in soil where all belong.
Steps Forward
My heart yearns for a peaceful world where our society is based in convenient, life-affirming systems. Our current society has deep roots in a hierarchy of human value and we have yet to break free. Our liberation depends upon us doing so. Here are things everyone can do:
- Tell the truth about our history. Remember the massacres, lynchings, and assassinations not as isolated tragedies but as a continuous thread.
- Examine our own complicity. Where do supremacy-based assumptions show up in our daily lives, in how we see neighbors, or strangers?
- Practice dignity. Uphold it in how we speak, how we act, how we shape institutions.
- Create new norms. From local communities to national politics, insist on policies and practices that make space for everyone to thrive.
The arc of violence will not bend toward peace on its own. It requires all of us, together, to name the roots, pull them up, and choose a different inheritance.
The Roots of America’s Violence was first published on Debilyn Molineaux's substack platform and was republished with permission.
Debilyn Molineaux is a storyteller, collaborator & connector. For 20 years, she led cross-partisan organizations. She currently holds several roles, including catalyst for JEDIFutures.org and podcast host of Terrified Nation. She also works with the Center for Collaborative Democracy, which is home to the Grand Bargain Project as a way to unify Americans by getting unstuck on six big issues, all at the same time. She previously co-founded BridgeAlliance, Living Room Conversations, and the National Week of Conversation. You can learn more about her work on LinkedIn.




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.