Some of Donald Trump’s allies responded to his federal indictment by hinting at violence. Kari Lake, the former Arizona gubernatorial candidate, said anyone who wanted to get to the former president would have to go through millions of gun owners. A far-right congressman warned: “Eye for an eye.”
Trump himself is setting the tone. He called Jack Smith, the prosecutor handling the documents case, “deranged” and a “psycho.” This follows the same pattern from his New York indictment, when he thundered about “death and destruction” and posted an image of himself wielding a baseball bat next to a photo of the district attorney.
There’s no place for this under the rule of law. The possibility that it could inspire even one person to take matters into their own hands makes it dangerous. As a result, authorities in Miami stepped up security ahead of Trump’s court appearance last Tuesday. But it’s worth remembering what happened next: Both times Trump showed up to be arraigned, protests were contained and no major trouble broke out.
There’s a reason: When it comes to preventing political violence, accountability matters.
In the more than two years since the storming of the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, more than 1,000 people have been charged in the Justice Department’s sweeping investigation. Almost 600 have pleaded guilty. More than 300 have been sentenced to prison.
Jan. 6 rioters have paid dearly in other ways, too, with ruinous legal bills, threat of personal bankruptcy, lost jobs and alienation in their families and communities.
The effort poured into the law enforcement response to the attack has been worthwhile. Not only are Jan. 6 prosecutions achieving justice for a horrendous assault on our democracy, they’re serving as a powerful deterrent.
In April, Trump’s arraignment in New York turned into a public spectacle, not a mass mobilization. In Miami on Tuesday, when Trump was arraigned on 37 criminal charges related to his handling of classified documents, the atmosphere was lively but contained.
So far, accountability has continued to prevail. Extremists who otherwise might have considered acts of violence in Trump’s name have instead encouraged one another to stand down.
They’ve gotten the message: If you break the law to disrupt the functioning of government, attack police officers, endanger public officials or violate our democracy, the consequences will be devastating.
The Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD), which tracks political extremism, released a fascinating report in March that bears this out. “Audiences of hundreds or thousands that could once be mobilized by a tweet or baseless accusation have become wary,” the report said.
One rationale shared by many Trump supporters was that law enforcement’s response was a trap. Of course, the FBI and other agencies have gone after those who broke the law or are organizing to break the law in the future. But it’s not an elaborate ruse. It’s how accountability works in a functioning democracy.
ISD’s report also picked up a perception among extremists that it’s not worth going to the barricades for Trump for another reason: After Jan. 6, he didn’t use his remaining time in office to pardon the rioters, and he hasn’t helped pay their legal fees. So he may not have their backs in the future.
Pro-Trump agitators may have used the wrong logic, but they’ve arrived at the right conclusion: Break the law and you’re only putting yourself at risk.
This mirrors a trend we see in other countries: When extremists think the state has their backs and they have relative impunity, their violence rises. When they think the state will hold them accountable, their violence falls.
We shouldn’t misunderstand the moment. Political violence is very much still with us. One report tracks 530 specific incidents of hate, extremism and terrorism so far in 2023, some of which resulted in violence. And while some officials on both sides of the aisle are trying to actively combat political violence, the country is hurtling toward a presidential election next year that will turn up the volume on everything, including violent rhetoric.
And even when Trump and his allies aren’t explicitly calling for violence, they’re creating an environment where it thrives. Despite a detailed indictment, packed with evidence, they portray him as the innocent victim of a crazed and political persecution.
So far, though, those supporters have said: No thanks. You’re on your own.
In this moment, the accountability movement can’t let up. And it won’t. As many as 1,200 more people could still be charged in the Jan. 6 investigation. A civil suit filed by the D.C. attorney general against the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers is moving forward. And John Eastman and Jenna Ellis, two lawyers who were instrumental in Trump’s attempt to hold on to power after the 2020 election and setting the stage for Jan. 6, are facing professional discipline.
Accountability can’t be the only tool we use to prevent political violence, of course. It has to be paired with effective law enforcement and bipartisan leadership from all levels of government condemning violence. That’s what happened in Miami and in New York, where police closed streets, erected barriers and had tens of thousands of officers ready to keep people safe.
But the lesson for our future is clear: If we make sure there are clear consequences for political violence, for either side of the aisle, we set an example. And we stand a much better chance of stopping it in the future.
Joanna Lydgate is the co-founder and chief executive officer of the States United Democracy Center, and former chief deputy attorney general of Massachusetts.
Rachel Kleinfeld is a senior fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, member of the States United Democracy Center advisory board, and a leading expert on troubled democracies facing serious violence.
States United is pro-bono co-counsel in the D.C. attorney general’s civil case, and filed Bar complaints against John Eastman and Jenna Ellis.