Political violence is defined as violence driven by political motives. To clarify further, the distinction between political violence and everyday violence lies in the former’s intent to either resist or advocate for the imposition of collective decisions on others. For instance, proponents on “the left” may seek to enforce wealth redistribution to benefit the underprivileged, while those on “the right” might advocate for increased state surveillance and militarization of law enforcement. This characterization may come across as overly simplistic; however, the essence of political violence revolves around conflicts concerning shared societal decisions.
Now, let’s entertain a hypothetical scenario: a society devoid of collective choices. To make this thought experiment foolproof, we must also presume that there is no desire for political decisions—everyone accepts a set of broad and traditional rules, like the prohibition against murder and theft. In this utopia, individuals desire a laissez-faire existence and willingly accept its consequences. While many may doubt the feasibility or stability of such a world, this scenario is instrumental in distinguishing political violence from other forms of violence. Even in this society, while common crimes might persist, and perhaps a Hobbesian “war of all against all” might erupt, there would be no political violence—unless one counts the skirmishes over the very existence of a state itself. Without the “political,” there can be no political violence.
Butler Shaffer, a law professor at the University of Miami, employed psychological frameworks to assert that one root cause of societal violence lies within the political-legal system, which enforces arbitrary limitations on individuals’ non-coercive actions (as discussed in his work “Violence as a Product of Imposed Order,” University of Miami Law Review 29 [1975]). Similarly, Auberon Herbert, a British individualist anarchist from the late 19th century, contended that the revolutionary terrorists of his era were the grotesque progeny of the state. He argued that terrorism is essentially “the essence of government,” with revolutionaries merely seeking to impose an alternative set of collective choices (as explored in my post “Terrorism as ‘the Essence of Government’”). These perspectives suggest that politics, which inherently involves violence or threats thereof, naturally incites further violence.
James Buchanan and his school of thought demonstrate a clever attempt to circumvent the quandary between the absence of collective choice (an anarchist ideal) and the violence stemming from collective decisions. He invites us to envision a unanimous social contract, one to which all individuals consent because it embodies a minimal set of rules beneficial to everyone (see his influential work The Limits of Liberty and my review of the book). At this level of consensus, politics ceases to be coercive; rather, it transforms into a voluntary political exchange aimed at the future creation of “public goods.” It’s hard to label any intervention as authoritarian or violent if it receives unanimous consent.
Buchanan’s perspective is inherently democratic, as he posits that “each man counts for one.” Democracy is deemed valuable only when it approaches unanimity. This notion of a free society sharply contrasts with the idea of self-governance as an unrestricted government by the majority, which we might refer to as naïve democratism.
The more individuals’ lives are governed by collective choices or the greater the demand for them, the higher the potential for political violence. Those who haven’t voted for or disagree with the constraints imposed upon them may find themselves with motives to resist, and in certain circumstances, to resort to violence. It’s worth noting that the individuals who take action are often not the most astute, yet this does not invalidate the overarching argument. Contemporary “philosophical” or “reluctant” anarchists like Michael Huemer or Anthony de Jasay assert that there is no moral obligation to obey the state, though they do not advocate for violent revolt, at least in a context where a society is more free than unfree.
Keep in mind that the absence of overt political violence does not equate to the absence of political violence. A state may wield such immense power that its threats of violence effectively deter most forms of resistance, including violent uprisings. Many individuals may feel that their preferences have been coercively disregarded, yet they see no viable means for effective resistance.
The tragic assassination of Minnesota Democratic politicians on June 14 serves as a stark reminder of how naïve democratism can perpetuate violence. From Buchanan’s constitutional perspective, we can only anticipate legitimacy and acceptance from government decisions that adhere to rules virtually embraced by all. When a fragile minority disregards the preferences of a significant portion of the populace, it sets the stage for potential political violence. Despite their slender majority in the state legislature, the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party (the Minnesota chapter of the Democratic Party) attempted to pass legislation that faced considerable opposition from voters. Regarding Melissa Hortman, one of the slain politicians, the Wall Street Journal noted: (“Minnesota Lawmaker Killed in ‘Act of Targeted Political Violence,’” June 14, 2015):
In an interview with The Wall Street Journal last year, Hortman emphasized the importance for members of the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party to utilize their legislative majority to advance progressive legislation. “The [Democratic] governor’s viewpoint, and ours, was that winning elections serves a purpose,” she stated at that time. “All the initiatives we discussed for the 2023-24 session were part of our campaign platform.”
This naïve democratism not only incites political discord and violence but also allows both the left and the right to position themselves as defenders of democracy. Ultimately, the focus should be on preserving individual liberty, which is under threat from both ends of the conventional political spectrum. This issue is similarly observable at the federal level, with the platforms of the two major parties currently inverted compared to the situation in Minnesota. Such problems are prevalent in most, if not all, democratic nations, albeit they may be more acute or visible in the United States at this moment.
