From January 6 Rage to (Near) Unconditional Empathy on January 7

I struggle to think of a moment I felt more gutted, frustrated and enraged than the few hours I spent watching the January 6 insurrection live last year. While I certainly have my grievances with American democracy, it’s legitimacy, and what we should consider acceptable protest against illegitimate institutions, I couldn’t help but feel that all that was good about this American experiment was under siege.

It seemed what I was witnessing was an attack on the idea of democracy itself; that a group of people could insist through force and rhetoric alone that votes do not matter; that their leader was the only legitimate outcome, despite the voice and will of the people.

I looked on at the hundreds of individuals who breached and rioted with utter disdain, disgust and anger. I did this despite a streak of anarchism that makes popular protest — even violent cases — acceptable when necessary. Put another way, it wasn’t that the Capitol had been breached, but that it had been done in the name of authoritarianism.

I was mad. I still am mad. But something interesting happened the next day.

Empathy Wins Out

Perhaps it was that carve out I have within myself to permit such acts when justified that lead me to a near unconditional empathy for those who participated in the day’s events.

Now, I’ll pause here to make a few qualifications to that statement before I continue. Empathy does not excuse anyone from the consequences of one’s actions. What was happening was then, and remains still, wrong in every sense of the word. Those who participated deserve to be charged, prosecuted and sentenced with relative impunity. This newfound empathy does not excuse what was done.

But I landed on an interesting thought, one that has reshaped how I view all that came to be a year ago. I suspect, with a high level of confidence, that I myself have the same hopes, goals, and core values as those who participated in those acts.

That sounds like an impossibility, myself a far left leaning American. But I think we can find more common ground than maybe we care to admit, and with it, perhaps a path forward that’s so badly needed in today’s political climate.

With exception to what I believe to be a small minority of the rioters — those aligned with groups like the Oath Keepers, the III%ers, or others that promote ideas of an ethno-state or similar — I think the hopes are much the same as mine: an America that provides the most freedom and opportunity for the individual, the family, and the community.

An Alternate Reality

Consider this: what would be the appropriate reaction if the election had, in fact, been stolen? What would the fair response be if the voice of the people had been, in some way, ignored, manipulated, or distorted, and a leader of “their” choosing was being installed despite the outcome?

Now, to be abundantly clear, this is not what happened; the evidence (or lack thereof) quite conclusively tells us that Biden carried more than enough states to win the election. The ‘irregularities’ cited have fallen flat, without evidence, in every case. Biden was the legitimately elected president of the election.

But what if the conspiracy theory, in this case, was true? What should the populous do?

The answer is, rather simply, exactly what they attempted to do: to interfere, disrupt and prevent what would be an illegitimate transfer of power. No amount of “violence” would be unjust; the situation would demand that the people take back their government.

For the vast majority of the participants, they believed this to be the case. They acted, in their mind, honorably out of obligation to their country.

Bad People, Or Good People Misguided?

The real enemy here isn’t those who believed a treacherous lie, it is those who promoted and structured that lie in the first place. It has been rather harrowing for me to see that the “pawns” of this plan have been punished while most of the architects remain untouched; in many cases, they still hold office.

I know it is easy to reject this line of thinking, and to paint all who acted in an attempted insurrection with the same, broad brush. But I’m asking you to consider the possibility the best way forward is to reject such reactionary thinking.

Take the case of Jake Peart. The subject of a recent Washington Post feature, let’s consider the question at the heart of this essay: is it possible that Jake, and others, are good people who were badly misguided?

Mr. Peart entered the Capitol, surging past beaten officers, and ignored the warnings and commands of others to vacate the premises. He shouted “This is our house!” as his part of the attacks.

He, like others, believed the Big Lie was true, and was acting accordingly.

Eight years ago, Mr. Peart lost his sister when she was killed by a drunk driver. As part of that process, Mr. Peart petitioned the courts repeatedly with a message of empathy and forgiveness for the woman who ended his sister’s life, a position that is rare, remarkable, and incredibly honorable. That woman credits Jake for the leniency she received, and for being able to move through a horrible mistake.

Since then, Jake has had a mostly normal life; a real estate professional who doesn’t appear to be all that fanatical, nor particularity ignorant.

I find it hard to look at Mr. Peart and conclude he is a bad person; a terrorist. I think it is quite clear he was taken, misguided, and used for a dangerous game.

That’s not to say his actions should be excused; I think a sentence that included no jail time and only house arrest (with exceptions for faith and employment) was far too lenient. But I can’t reach so far as to call him a bad person.

Those who orchestrated this are, not to mince words, tyrants. They should be held accountable to the fullest extent of the law, and in ways we simply have not seen. Some, like the leaders of the Oath Keepers, have come down with sentences that I feel approach appropriate.

For most others, I can find a deep sense of empathy. It’s near unconditional because I believe them to be badly mistaken, despite their efforts to be informed. It’s not unconditional, because, well, I have some conditions.

I would find it hard to forgive or look past those who continue to believe in these falsehoods. While I stop short of anger and rage, knowing they are still being sold the same set of lies, I can’t simply eschew blame to the architects here.

But for those willing to admit that they were duped, willing to admit that they exercised incredibly poor judgement, placed their trust in those who’s aims were not liberation, but tyranny, can’t we find empathy and forgiveness?

While many of these people may have limited abilities in critical thinking, many of them are, objectively, rather average or better. Can we really say that none of us would ever be taken by attractive lies? One of my favorite quotes rings loud here:

“You are not immune to propaganda.”

We’d love to believe and assert that this could never happen to us, but history is littered with groups of “us” being taken all the same. For most of us, the truth here was not unclear, and our anger at the events not unjustified.

But the nature of tyranny is that, often, it is delivered by good people. Shunning those who erred is not likely to dissuade them from rejoining reality, so to speak. To carry anger and resentment is to further entrench these people from improving their positions; should we not encourage their departure from such misguided positions?

I will continue to wait, rather hopelessly, for the architects of January 6 to be held responsible for the lies they sold. But this past year — and beyond — I will look to empathy to sway those willing to repent and improve from who they once were.

Perhaps, at a time when polarization is all we see, some radical unity could go a long way.

What do you think?

Story originally published on my Medium account, where you can find more commentary.