This already-bizarre campaign season has taken an ugly turn, with Republican frontrunner Donald Trump encouraging violence at his rallies and even promising to pay his supporters’ legal bills if they were arrested. That’s why many people feared the worst last week, when Trump announced he would hold a rally in Chicago, on the campus of the University of Illinois.
A massive counterprotest quickly sprang up, and at the last minute, the campaign called off the event. They claim that the police advised them to cancel for their own safety, but the Chicago police department denies they gave any such guidance.
It seems bizarre that Trump would plan a rally in a racially diverse liberal stronghold, where he had to know he’d meet with a hostile reception. But I think that was the whole point. I doubt Trump ever really intended to campaign in Chicago. This was a calculated provocation – a feint. He hoped to start a riot or some other kind of mass civil disturbance, so that he could say, “These people are dangerous, and I’m the only one who can protect you from them.”
This may be cunningly Machiavellian, but it’s also scarily reckless. As Josh Marshall points out, the violence and air of disinhibition Trump is stoking at his rallies sets a dangerous precedent. The campaign is sowing the seeds of mob mentality, seeking to attract people who are looking for trouble and who want an excuse to be disinhibited. The longer this goes on, the more likely it is that someone will get seriously hurt or worse.
I’m guessing Trump didn’t get the response he hoped for in Chicago – there were a few scuffles, nothing more. But that makes it all the more likely that he’ll try this tactic again.
And if this is Trump’s move, then that tells us the right countermove for next time. The lesson we should bear in mind is that when we protest racists and junior wannabe fascists like him (and we should protest, vigorously), we have to take care not to cede the moral high ground.
Demagogues love it when you end up in the weeds, fighting over who did what to whom or who threw the first punch. It’s like a smokescreen, giving them a way to divert and distract from the substance of the protest. And if they can claim, even slightly plausibly, that they were endangered, they can wrap themselves in the mantle of martyrdom. (“I must be right, just look at how I’m being persecuted and threatened for my ideas!”)
In fact, I’d argue that this principle has wide applicability beyond just the Trump campaign. When you’re trying to win over the public, change people’s minds, or build a coalition, it’s not enough to be right. Even when the facts are on your side, you can forfeit people’s sympathy by coming off as condescending, self-righteous, abrasive, or belligerent. In short: when you’re right, don’t be a jerk.
There are writers with whom I usually agree, but who so consistently strike a hectoring, holier-than-thou tone that I can’t stand to read them. There are also worthy causes that have been lamentably tainted by their worst advocates, who seem to believe that anything is permissible in defense of a good cause. (If we condemn Trump for having reporters roughed up, we have to do the same for Melissa Click.)
Does this contradict what I’ve said in the past about firebrand advocacy? I don’t believe so. Granted, it can be a tricky line to walk. It’s not possible to be an effective advocate without offending someone, since there will always be people who treat any criticism as a grave personal insult. But in my view, holding the moral high ground doesn’t exclude being angry or impassioned, and it certainly doesn’t mean being a doormat.
What it does mean is that we should strive not to replicate the worst tactics of our adversaries: don’t harass, don’t use dehumanizing language, don’t threaten, don’t engage in violence, and don’t condone those who do. (I believe peaceful civil disobedience has a role to play, in support of the right ends.) It also means practicing intellectual honesty and humility: rather than the arguments-as-soldiers mindset, we should criticize bad arguments even when they come from someone you agree with, and to accept corrections gratefully when you’re wrong even if they come from your worst enemy. (Doing otherwise means isolating yourself in an intellectual echo chamber, and that can only harm your cause in the long run, as the GOP is now finding out to its sorrow.)
Lastly, I think holding the moral high ground entails recognizing that you can’t berate people into agreeing with you. It’s frustrating – believe me, I know this feeling well! – when some clownish ignoramus or obnoxious bigot keeps spouting the same line of argument in spite of well-reasoned rebuttals, and it’s tempting to crank up the polemic and try to bludgeon them into conceding the point. But, again, this is more likely to muddy the waters and make you look bad than it is to “win” the argument. How much enlightenment have you ever gotten from a TV show where two talking heads scream at each other?
There are times and places where the best thing you can do is make your points as clearly and strongly as you can, and then withdraw from the field – don’t draw out the argument indefinitely. If you’re on the right side, you don’t need hostility! Let the reasons and the evidence speak for themselves. If you stand for peace, for freedom, for human rights, and you’re arguing with someone who doesn’t, you’re like an army defending the high ground. You have a built-in advantage. Don’t throw it away by descending into the mud, as the bigots and demagogues so fondly hope to see.