Save Your Thoughts and Prayers

Reflecting on responses to the Donald Trump "shooting."

Photo of Trump grifting, per usual.

I cannot say whether the recent shooting involving Donald Trump was real or fake. What I can say, without hesitation, is that he is a grifter who will do anything for power. I can also say, with conviction, that I do not wish him well. As he would not spit on me if I was on fire.

It is an unsettling reality that so many are quick to send their thoughts and prayers to a man such as him, while these same people ignore the suffering of Palestinians, the Congolese, the Sudanese, and countless others. The humanity offered to Trump versus the groups named has been—telling.

I suppose the response to the Trump shooting is, in its way, logical in a world where people profess a desire for less violence. Yet, this supposed principle of nonviolence reveals itself to be fickle, dependent entirely on the identity of the victim. It seems the cry for peace is only raised when the afflicted bear a certain complexion, a certain status. When violence strikes the powerful, the privileged, the outcry is resounding, the calls for civility unending. But when it is the oppressed, the marginalized, the Brown child in Rafah, the Black family in Mississippi, the silence is as profound as it is damning.

I do not revel in the thought of bloodshed, nor do I romanticize the chaos of revolution. I am, in essence, a person who craves peace, who yearns for the quietude of a life unburdened by the weight of harm. But history has shown us that the language of the oppressor is often spoken in the harsh, unyielding tongue of violence. The only language Donald Trump and his sycophants have proven to understand.

I believed many of us were on the same page about this. I was wrong.

Ever since Trump’s 2016 campaign, the democratic establishment and liberal voters have spoken ceaselessly about the existential threat he represents. Driving home the fact that he is a white supremacist, a rapist, a fascist—a man capable of propelling the United States, and perhaps the entire world, back generations. And as a Black leftist, I cannot disagree. Trump embodies the ugliest aspects of American history and society. His rhetoric, actions, and policies have laid bare the undercurrents of hate and division that have always been present but are often cloaked in more palatable guises.

Trump’s overt disdain for marginalized communities, his encouragement of violence, and his relentless assault on democratic norms present real and present dangers. The liberal chorus, amplified by a media landscape desperate for clicks and ratings, has correctly identified Trump’s authoritarian impulses and his appeal to the darkest corners of the white American mind. From his disgusting comments about women to his cruel policies on immigration, each act serves as another exhibit in the case against him.

He is so vile, in fact, that the very idea of his potential return to the White House was enough to secure Joe Biden’s victory in 2020. It is not so much that Biden presented a vision of radiant progress or a comprehensive plan to heal the nation’s wounds, but rather that he sold himself as the antithesis to Trump’s malignancy. The mere prospect of Trump reclaiming the Oval Office is also Biden’s most potent campaign weapon for 2024. Trump has been transformed into a symbol, a repository for all the world’s ills, an embodiment of every fear and every injustice that plagues us.

But, if Trump is the existential threat we claim him to be, why then are so many people rooting for his well-being?

I understand politicians having to be performative, for it is their trade, their bread and butter, to feign compassion even when their hearts feel otherwise. But what disturbs me most is seeing countless ordinary citizens, especially white liberals, caught in the same web of performative empathy. These same individuals who claim to stand against Trump, those who speak of being on the frontlines for marginalized people, now find themselves wishing well upon a man who embodies the pits of this soulless nation.

To comprehend this paradox, we must delve deeper into the psyche of American citizens, where the veneer of civility often masks a profound discomfort with true justice. Wishing Trump well, in the eyes of many, is perhaps a means of maintaining a semblance of moral high ground. It is a way of adhering to the principle of compassion, a principle people cling to desperately, even when the object of their compassion would sooner see them—along with the marginalized communities they claim to support—hanging from a tree.

There is a certain safety in performative empathy. It allows one to feel virtuous without the burden of true accountability. It permits the maintenance of societal structures that benefit the privileged while offering crumbs of comfort to the oppressed. Wishing Trump well is an extension of this safety net, a refusal to confront the harsher truths of the world we inhabit. It is easier to wish an enemy well when the harm that enemy causes will only lightly impact you, while destroying everyone else.

Specifically, white liberals often operate within a framework of fear—fear of being perceived as uncivil, fear of being lumped together with the “radicals” who dare to demand more than polite discourse and incremental change. Their empathy is selective, their outrage measured. They are comfortable within the bounds of what society deems acceptable, unwilling to venture into the turbulent waters of true revolution.

Which is partially to blame for Republicans having the opportunity to use this moment to turn Donald Trump into a martyr, framing this violence as an act instigated by the left. All while liberals remain quiet about the fact that Donald Trump reaped what he sowed.

For example, apartheid billionaire, Elon Musk, has used the moment to not only officially endorse Trump, but to lift him as a Herculean figure.

The rhetoric of well wishes by liberals has only helped Republicans. In their attempt to cling to a veneer of civility, to be seen as compassionate and forgiving, liberals have inadvertently bolstered the very forces they claim to oppose. This performative empathy has provided Republicans with the perfect canvas, a means to paint themselves as victims of a supposed liberal intolerance.

It is a masterful stroke of propaganda, one that underscores the naivety of those who believe that kindness alone can conquer such deeply entrenched malice. All while Republicans actively weaponize the moment to stew more violence by claiming that the political left influenced the shooting. Georgia Congressman Mike Collins went so far as to say that Biden gave the order.

These are the people you are trying to be civil with.

Such accusations are not made in a vacuum. They reverberate through a landscape already fractured by division and mistrust. In an era where conspiracy theories thrive and misinformation spreads like wildfire, these claims have the potential to incite real-world consequences. Most likely against people who look like me.

But Republicans know this, and more importantly — they know the Democratic establishment is too busy with respectability politics to do anything about it.

We find ourselves trapped in a cycle where the language of civility becomes a tool of the oppressor. It is a language that insists on politeness over justice, on decorum over truth. It allows those in power to evade accountability, to perpetuate their harm under the guise of respectful discourse. And in doing so, it leaves the oppressed to fend for themselves, bereft of the righteous anger that could fuel real change.

The well wishes extended to Trump are not acts of compassion; they are acts of complicity. They reflect a desire to remain untainted by the ugliness of conflict, to avoid the discomfort of standing firmly on the side of the oppressed. But in doing so, they portray a deeper cowardice, a reluctance to embrace the full weight of moral responsibility.

To claim Donald Trump as a grave threat to the existence of marginalized communities, and in the same breath hope for his well-being, is a tragic contradiction. It is a dance on the edge of a knife, a performance steeped in the absurdity of American moral theater. This dichotomy exposes a fundamental flaw in the fabric of our society—a society that preaches justice while perpetuating oppression, that sings hymns of peace while arming itself for war.

When those who profess to stand against Trump’s tyranny extend their wishes for his recovery, they do more than reveal their own duplicity. They undermine the very message of resistance they claim to champion. How can one denounce a man as a destroyer of worlds and simultaneously hope for his continued existence? This is not the language of genuine revolt; it is the murmur of complacency, the sigh of a society too afraid to confront its own shadows.

The marginalized communities who bear the brunt of Trump's vitriol and policies cannot afford such luxuries. For us, Trump is not a symbol to be debated over dinner; he is a clear and present danger. His rhetoric incites violence, his policies enforce discrimination, his presence emboldens the forces of hate. To wish him well is to wish for the perpetuation of our suffering, to desire the survival of our tormentor.

As I sit here, watching the Republicans craft their martyrdom narrative, claiming Trump is touched and chosen by God, I am filled with a sense of urgency. The invocation of divine selection in the political arena is an old and insidious tactic. It has been used throughout history to justify the unjustifiable, to sanctify power, and to silence dissent. Republicans are using this moment to insulate Trump from accountability, to wrap his human flaws in the cloak of divine purpose.

We are being pushed to the edge of the cliff on the battlefield.

To those who have supported thoughts and prayers for Trump, I say this: Your compassion is misplaced. Your empathy, selective. If you truly believe in the danger he represents, then your duty is not to hope for his recovery but to work tirelessly for his defeat. Your solidarity must be with those he seeks to destroy, not with the man himself. For in wishing him well, you reveal your true allegiance—not to justice, but to the preservation of your own comfort.

The time for half-measures and empty gestures is past. The fight for justice demands clarity of purpose, a steadfast commitment to the principles we claim to uphold. It requires us to look beyond the veneer of civility, to confront the brutal truths of power and oppression. Only then can we hope to build a world where the marginalized are no longer threatened by the likes of Donald Trump.

When they go low—I go whichever direction gets us free.