The attempted assassination of Donald Trump, a despicable and indefensible act that came within a whisker of success, should shock the conscience of a seething nation. It should prompt sober reflection, deep introspection, and prayer.
The right people are saying the right things. “There’s no place for this kind of violence in America,” said President Joe Biden, urging us to “unite as one nation to condemn it.” U.S. Sen. Thom Tillis said, “violence can never be tolerated.” It “has no place in our politics or communities,” said Gov. Roy Cooper. “People should be able to have differing opinions without fear of violence or threats,” said Attorney Gen. Josh Stein. “Passions are inflamed on both sides of the aisle,” said Lt. Gov. Mark Robinson, “but please, let’s all remember who we are.”
Trump himself posted these words shortly after the shooting. “I want to extend my condolences to the family of the person at the Rally who was killed, and also to the family of another person that was badly injured. It is incredible that such an act can take place in our Country.”
It is. Yet here we are.
I won’t discount the importance of the right people saying the right words at the right time. Rhetoric is as essential to the practice of politics as dexterity is to the practice of surgery, or draftsmanship to architecture. But to be essential is not to be sufficient. Qualities such as discernment and prudence are what distinguish a superior professional from a merely competent one — or, in this case, statesmanship from mere performance.
That your fellow citizen can disagree with you on political matters, large and small, without necessarily being a liar, a villain, or a fool is a proposition you ought to accept because it is true. Even if you doubt its validity, however, you ought to accept it because our system of self-government requires it.
The structure of that system — elections, enumerated rights and powers, separation of powers, checks and balances, the dual sovereignty embedded in federalism — assumes good faith, nonviolent disagreement. If it were already obvious whose ideas were correct, none of this rigamarole would be required.
Moreover, true self-government requires self-restraint. At this writing, we know the name of Trump’s would-be assassin but not enough information to know in detail why he did what he did and how he got close enough to wound our former president and to wound and kill others in the crowd.
Past assassins and would-be assassins had a range of motivations. Some were political extremists. John Wilkes Booth championed the Confederacy. Lee Harvey Oswald was a communist. Leon Czolgosz, who killed William McKinley, was an anarchist. Sirhan Sirhan, who killed senator and presidential candidate Bobby Kennedy, was a foe of Israel. Others had personal grievances. Charles Guiteau, who killed James Garfield, was angry at being passed over for a presidential appointment. Still others — John Hinckley and the men who tried to kill Andrew
Jackson and Teddy Roosevelt — were lunatics.
I’m going to wait for more information before drawing conclusions about this incident. So should our leaders. They should say so, and why. At the same time, our leaders should continue to condemn political violence and advocate political civility. That’s not jumping the gun. That’s trying to make sure no one responds to the events of July 13 by leaping for their own guns.
The attempted assassination of Donald Trump, at once unthinkable but also unsurprising, presents Americans with a momentous choice. It challenges our leaders to guide that decision not only with words but with deeds. In this terrible, providential moment, we can step back from the precipice of disaster. We can heed the words of the first president to be slain by an assassin’s bullet. We can, with malice toward none with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, strive on to finish the work we are in to bind up the nation’s wounds.
Enough.

Editor’s note: John Hood is a John Locke Foundation board member. His latest books, Mountain Folk and Forest Folk, combine epic fantasy with early American history (FolkloreCycle.com).