Trump's shooting should give pause to a self-destructive America

Secret Service agents shielded Donald Trump after a lone gunman shot him in the ear at a rally in Pennsylvania on July 13. AP

Blood streaming from his right ear, punctured just moments earlier by a would-be assassin’s bullet, Donald Trump defied his protection detail’s best efforts to conceal him. He righted himself on the campaign stage in Butler County, Pennsylvania on Saturday, faced his simultaneously terrified and awe-struck supporters, and raised his fist in the air. “Fight,” he shouted to them.

The Secret Service whisked Trump into a nearby SUV and subsequently to the nearest hospital. Within a minute of the first shot being fired, the shooter, 20-year-old Pennsylvania man Matthew Crooks, was killed.

The attempt on Trump’s life marks an odious moment in America’s darkening political cycle. Hopefully, it will also be a sobering one for the American body politic. The country has witnessed an unacceptable rise in political violence in recent years, often characterised by so-called “lone wolf” attackers infected with extreme, virulent and conspiratorial ideologies.

On January 6, 2021, hundreds of conspiracists pooled their rage to attempt a violent insurrection at the Capitol; they were supporters of Trump, who had mentioned the need to “fight” no less than 18 times in a speech earlier that day. Trump’s repetition of that word after being shot on Saturday showed his remarkable fortitude and political talent; his supporters have never been more energised. But it was also a signal that more violence may lie ahead.

The country has witnessed an unacceptable rise in political violence in recent years

The American republic has withstood many attempts on the lives of its presidents in decades past. Sixteen commanders-in-chief have been the target of assassination attempts. Four have been killed as a result, and three injured (Trump is the third). Trump is also the fourth candidate in US history to have been shot. But after all previous shootings, brighter days eventually followed.

But the current moment in American democracy, nonetheless, stands out for its generalised disaffection. The public’s level of confidence in the current crop of politicians is abysmal; last year, a Pew Research poll found just 16 per cent of Americans trusted their government. As of April, the figure is just seven points higher. Americans are also polarising faster than their counterparts in other western democracies, a process fuelled in no small part by misinformation, political memes and social media.

Trump and his political rival, incumbent President Joe Biden, have run their race too often in the muck, and the fact the two men are the oldest presidential candidates in US history speaks to the lack of opportunity for strong talent in the lower political ranks to rise up. Mr Biden’s age has become so apparently debilitating in the past fortnight that many of his erstwhile supporters have called on him to bow out of the race.

In light of all of this, there is no shortage of academics who are ready to speak of America’s decline. But in the world’s richest and most powerful nation, violence, disaffection and, ultimately, decline need not be inexorable processes. America’s political climate is the product of choices made by its political class. These include choices to demonise their fellow citizens of different political stripes, to normalise cynicism, to forego civic-mindedness and to estrange national unity in the public discourse. The shooting of any politician, let alone a former president and presidential candidate, is the clearest sign possible that better choices must be made.