Pardoning Insurrection: A Dangerous Signal for American Democracy

Pardoning Insurrection: A Dangerous Signal for American Democracy

The pardons granted to January 6th criminals send a chilling message: violence on Trump’s behalf will not only be tolerated but rewarded. These individuals, convicted for their role in a violent attempt to overturn a lawful election, are now being absolved of their actions. This move risks normalizing political violence and emboldening those who see force as a legitimate tool for achieving their aims.

History offers a stark warning. In the 1930s, Hitler’s “Brown Shirts” operated as paramilitary enforcers, using intimidation and violence to suppress dissent and secure Nazi power. The parallels are unsettling. By pardoning those who engaged in violence on January 6th, Trump is signaling that such actions are not only acceptable but potentially encouraged under his leadership.

This normalization of political violence undermines the very foundations of democracy. It fosters an environment where loyalty to a leader takes precedence over the rule of law and where fear replaces the free exchange of ideas. We must remain vigilant and resolute in rejecting any attempts to erode democratic norms and sanction violence as a means of political expression.

The stakes are clear. Allowing this dangerous precedent to stand risks further destabilizing our democracy and empowering those who seek to undermine it. As citizens, we must hold our leaders accountable and demand adherence to the rule of law.

Mercy and Plea for Humanity Denied

In the early days of Trump’s administration, cruelty quickly became a defining feature. As the nation grappled with fear and uncertainty, Bishop Mariann E. Budde, leader of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, courageously spoke out. She offered a plea for mercy—not as a demand, but as an appeal to the humanity of those in power.

“To plea for mercy is actually a very humbling thing to do,” Bishop Budde reflected. “I wasn’t demanding anything of him. I was pleading with him, like, can you see the humanity of these people? Can you acknowledge that there are people in this country who are scared? … If not him, if not the president, could others?”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Trump and his allies, including J.D. Vance, not only dismissed her plea but took offense. It was a stark reminder that, in their vision for governance, there seemed to be no room for compassion or humanity.

The rejection of Bishop Budde’s plea was more than a refusal to acknowledge the suffering of millions—it was a deliberate statement of values. And for many Americans, it signaled the troubling reality of an administration driven by division and devoid of mercy.

A History of Choosing Dishonesty

Americans tried honesty and found it not to their liking. The Nixon-Agnew administration was so corrupt that the nation briefly toyed with the idea of clean governance. But when faced with a choice between a straight shooter like Jimmy Carter and a showman like Ronald Reagan, they chose the entertainer.

Reagan’s presidency ushered in an era of dishonesty, from the Iran-Contra scandal to the criminal pardons issued by his successor, George H.W. Bush. Then, of course, Bill Clinton showed us that Democrats, too, could be dishonest..

When a straight shooter like Al Gore came along, Americans rejected him, instead opting for George W. Bush and Dick Cheney, whose fabrications led to the disastrous Iraq War. Barack Obama, with his integrity and thoughtfulness, seemed like an anomaly—a rare honest president who managed to win reelection.

But by the end of Obama’s term, America seemed ready to return full-force to dishonesty, electing Donald Trump, a figure whose corruption and chaos were on full display. Even after narrowly rejecting him in 2020, they doubled down on deceit and brought him back in 2024, despite knowing the depth of his depravity.

As Andy Borowitz frames it:

As we remember Jimmy Carter, let’s also take a moment to remember what a ginormous dick Ronald Reagan was.

On October 28, 1980, the two men faced off in a televised debate, in which Reagan delivered his zinger for the ages, “There you go again.”

But Reagan’s knockout punch was hardly as spontaneous as it appeared. He had rehearsed it ahead of time, knowing exactly what Carter planned to say. How did he know? His campaign had stolen a copy of Carter’s debate briefing book.

When Americans elected Carter in 1976, they chose a man who pledged never to lie to them. He was a refreshing response to the cesspool of Republican lying typified by Watergate. By electing Reagan in 1980, Americans returned to the cesspool.

Forty-four years later, we find ourselves back in that cesspool yet again—and looking for an honest person like Jimmy Carter to lead us someplace better.