The Language of Political Violence is Escalating

Would an act of violence on the floor of congress surprise us? This moment is eerily similar to the 1850's

On May 22, 1856, at the height of partisan tensions that promies to tear the country apart, Representative Preston Brooks of South Carolina walked onto the Senate floor and beat Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts unconscious with a gold-headed cane. The attack left Sumner bloodied and unable to return to his duties for over three years. Brooks, an unrepentant slaver, became a hero in the South, receiving hundreds of replacement canes from supporters. Sumner became a martyr in the North, his empty Senate chair a symbol of Southern brutality.

The question haunting our current moment is this: if such an attack happened today, would we really be surprised?

The Escalating Rhetoric of the 1850’s is eerily reminiscent of the present moment.

The Sumner caning didn’t emerge from a vacuum. It was the violent culmination of years of escalating congressional rhetoric over slavery. Sumner himself had delivered a blistering speech called “The Crime Against Kansas,” in which he personally attacked Senator Andrew Butler of South Carolina, Brooks’s cousin, describing Butler as having taken “the harlot, Slavery” as his mistress. The language was deliberately provocative and deeply personal.

But Sumner wasn’t alone in pushing boundaries. Southern representatives regularly threatened violence against their Northern colleagues. Weapons became commonplace in the Capitol. Representatives carried pistols and Bowie knives to legislative sessions. The House floor witnessed shouting matches, near-duels, and physical confrontations that stopped just short of bloodshed.

Each side justified their escalation as a response to the other’s extremism…sound familiar?

Northern abolitionists saw themselves as righteously and correctly confronting an evil institution. Southern defenders of slavery viewed themselves as protecting their honor and way of life against fanatical attacks. The middle ground eroded with each inflammatory speech, each personal attack, each threat of violence.

The moments crisis became existential. There was no room for compromise and both sides lost faith in elections as they sought the manifestation of their world view. Violence became the inevitable result and the largest loss of American life in one of the bloodiest wars in history played out.

Examples of congressional fighting today have become more visceral and commonplace, if petty and personal. Fast-forward to today’s Congress, where Representatives Marjorie Taylor Greene and Jasmine Crockett recently engaged in a heated exchange that devolved into personal attacks about “bleach blonde bad-built butch body” and “fake eyelashes.” While the specific language differs from the 1850s, the underlying dynamics feel disturbingly familiar.

We’ve witnessed Republican representatives shouting “You lie!” during Obama’s presidential addresses, lawmakers bringing props and staging theatrical displays during hearings, and members of Congress openly questioning each other’s intelligence, patriotism, and character. Social media has amplified these confrontations, turning congressional disputes into viral content that rewards the most outrageous behavior.

Like their 1850s predecessors, today’s representatives often justify their conduct as necessary responses to unprecedented circumstances. Each side views the other as an existential threat to democracy itself. The stakes feel so high that normal decorum seems inadequate, even naive.

Each side blames the other for ‘starting it!’ while the most partisan among us excuse their dangerous behavior by dismissing calls for seriousness as “Both sidesism” and “False equivalence.”

The rhetoric has become explicitly martial. New York Governor Kathy Hochul declared “This is war” during the redistricting battle. Politicians routinely call for “fighting fire with fire” and demand we “stop bringing knives to a gun fight.” Social media platforms amplify these increasingly aggressive messages to millions of followers, transforming political opponents into enemies and framing legislative disagreement as existential combat requiring ever-escalating responses.

I’ve even had one commentator ironically named Karen declare it’s time for ‘Bare knuckled brawling’ urging Democrats to undermine the will of the voters to fight Republican cheating by…cheating.

Ok, Karen.

The Dangerous momentum of our current situation now rhymes with the past as we sidled up to the edge of actual war. Not the kind of violence urged by people on their phones but the actual physical assault, maiming and killing of other human beings.

What made the 1850s so dangerous wasn’t just the presence of passionate disagreement—it was the systematic breakdown of institutional norms that had previously contained that disagreement. When respected senators began making personal attacks, when weapons appeared in the Capitol, when violence was celebrated rather than condemned, the institution lost its ability to function as a deliberative body.

Today’s Congress shows troubling signs of following a similar trajectory. Personal attacks have become routine. Members openly express contempt for the institution itself. Physical altercations, while not yet reaching the level of the Sumner caning, have increased.

Republican Representative Paul Gosar posted an animated video depicting himself killing Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and attacking President Biden. Initially censured by the House, Gosar was quietly restored to his committee assignments once Republican pressure mounted—demonstrating how institutional accountability crumbles when political bases reward extremism rather than condemn it.

The Sumner caning shocked the nation in 1856, but it shouldn’t have. The warning signs had been building for years. The escalating rhetoric, the personal attacks, the celebration of extremism, the breakdown of institutional norms—all pointed toward inevitable violence.

Looking at our current moment, we must honestly ask: have we already traveled too far down this same path? When members of Congress regularly question each other’s basic humanity, when political disagreement becomes grounds for personal destruction, when the institution itself is treated with contempt, how long before someone decides that words are no longer sufficient?

Ask yourself a question and be honest: Did you question why this essay didn’t include more examples of the ‘other side’ being worse than your own?

The answer may depend on whether we can recognize the patterns of the past and choose a different course.

The escalation of violent rhetoric of the past week doesn’t leave me hopeful.

The alternative—waiting to see if history repeats itself—may leave us with blood on the Capitol floor and democracy in ruins.

Again.