After the 2024 election, the Pew Research Center found that political violence was a top concern among voters, where 66% of voters reporting fears of violence. Now, nearly a year into the presidential election cycle, Americans are seeing new trends that may begin to reflect these fears.
In June, Minnesota Rep. Melissa Hortman, along with her husband, was shot and killed in her home. Simultaneously, the shooter made an unsuccessful attempt on the life of John Hoffman, a Minnesota senator, and his wife.
In April, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro’s residence was set aflame with Molotov cocktails.
Although political violence is not new, the recent assassination of Charlie Kirk on a Utah college campus has brought more attention to the severity of the issue.
Katey Berry, a senior political science major, said what happened to Kirk is just one “textbook example of political violence,” but it often goes further than that.
“Political violence hurts all of us, whether that’s left or right, and it appears in ways that I feel like people don’t even realize,” she said.
An immigration judge has ordered Mahmoud Khalil’s deportation. Berry said this action is an act of political violence because it has used threat or intimidation to silence the activist’s speech.
“As much as that’s not, you know, like going out and physically harming someone, you’re still taking away people’s right to dissent, people’s right to be able to talk about things and have open conversations,” Berry said.
Beyond just the election season, politics can take a toll on mental health through the violence that is occurring. Social researcher Cindy Sousa found that political violence does have links to PTSD, depression and anxiety.
Political violence creates an environment of fear. Whether that be due to skin color or religion, it’s there, Berry said. Berry herself has had fears because she is a leader in the political organization Jewish Voices for Peace.
Sophia Swengel, a senior history major, said she faced criticism as a leader in the May 4 Task Force for not engaging with the violence.
Swengel said that when Kyle Rittenhouse, a then-teen who fatally shot two people at a protest, was brought to Kent State as a speaker, she, along with other groups, chose not to attend or protest the event.
“An older activist who I had really looked up to called [the May 4 Task Force] ‘feckless’ and other names over email because we avoided a situation where someone could have gotten seriously hurt,” Swengel explained.
Kent State, having been the site of a massacre 55 years ago, is extremely important in this conversation. Swengel said that people might be talking about Kent State’s history in the wrong context.
“It really disappointed me to see people be talking about what happened here in regards to the National Guard in American cities,” she said. “But then, when someone got shot while speaking on a college campus, everyone just conveniently forgot about it. It doesn’t matter if it happened to someone who you didn’t agree with or like. It just shouldn’t happen at all.”
Physical violence often equates emotional violence, and it creates a disconnect, Swengel said.
“When physical violence is in the air, people feel less comfortable talking to one another because they become more sensitive of their emotions, and they fear backlash, so they don’t even smile to people on the street because they may be someone who would wish violence against them; it becomes internalized on an emotional level in the form of anxiety and fear,” Swengel said.
People may have a harder time connecting or even having conversations with others due to a fear of disagreement, Swengel said. This disconnect is innate, but it doesn’t have to cause fear.
“When I walk around, I’m not thinking about if anyone has a gun or knife on them, because I trust people,” Swengel said. “But I don’t want people to feel like they cannot talk to me because I may not agree with everything they have to say, or make assumptions about me without talking to me.”
Ari Collins is a beat reporter. Contact her at [email protected].
