America’s authoritarians operate with impunity. It’s time to take action
America’s Authoritarians Operate with Impunity. It’s Time to Take Action
America s authoritarians operate with impunity - In recent weeks, Greg Bovino, a former Border Patrol commander known for his controversial actions, became a focal point at a “remigration summit” in Portugal. There, he exchanged smiles with Martin Sellner, a prominent right-wing activist in Europe, and shared insights on shared ideological goals. “We’ve never talked before—face to face, that is—until yesterday, and we were on the same sheet of music almost immediately,” Bovino remarked, encapsulating the seamless alignment between authoritarian figures across the globe. This moment underscores a troubling trend: those who have left government roles continue to wield influence, often emboldened by the absence of accountability.
The Dilemma of Unchecked Power
Tina Peters, the former Colorado elections clerk whose sentence was reduced by Governor Jared Polis, recently appeared on Steve Bannon’s show to discuss Democratic tactics in the midterms. Her remarks, while framed as analysis, echo the narrative of systemic cheating, a theme that resonates with far-right rhetoric. These individuals, removed from office, not only lack remorse but also swiftly exploit their platforms to promote conspiracy theories and monetize their past actions. The ease with which they transition from power to punditry raises questions about the integrity of the political system.
When the second Trump administration took office, it pledged impunity from the outset. This promise materialized in the form of pardons for some of the most violent participants of the January 6 insurrection. Such leniency allows figures like Bovino and Peters to remain unchallenged, perpetuating a cycle where past cruelties are reframed as political strategies. The implications are clear: without institutional checks, authoritarianism can thrive in the shadows of official power.
Argentina’s Lesson in Popular Justice
Argentina offers a compelling case study in how societies can reclaim justice from those who have abused it. During its military dictatorship, the country granted sweeping amnesty to perpetrators of human rights violations, a move enforced by the threat of a coup. This policy enabled many who had committed atrocities to lead quiet, prosperous lives, unburdened by legal consequences. However, the tide turned when citizens, fed up with the prevailing impunity, began to take matters into their own hands.
These grassroots efforts took the form of escraches, a term originating in Spanish that translates to “scratching off” to reveal identity. Essentially, citizens organized public demonstrations around the homes of former regime leaders, using vibrant displays of red paint, graffiti, and theatrical performances to draw attention to their complicity. The acts were nonviolent yet powerful, transforming ordinary neighborhoods into stages for moral reckoning. Red paint, symbolizing blood shed during the dictatorship, became a visual reminder of the past, while noise and music underscored the collective outrage.
The practice of escraches has historical roots, tracing back to medieval times. Villagers would stage mock parades or “serenades”—a term later known as charivari—to protest officials accused of misconduct. These early forms of public shaming served as a means to reintegrate the guilty into society, emphasizing communal moral standards over punitive measures. Today, escraches have evolved into a modern tool of resistance, blending tradition with contemporary activism to challenge those who evade justice.
The Perils of Impunity and the Risk of Escalation
While escraches demonstrate the potential of popular justice, they also highlight its risks. The transition from measured protest to uncontrolled vigilantism can blur the lines between accountability and retribution. If citizens can exact justice through public shaming, there is a danger that the same process might be misused to target individuals for personal or political gain. This concern is amplified by the possibility of civil war, where the balance of power could tip toward repression.
Consider the potential consequences: if Bovino, a figure associated with harsh immigration policies, can face escraches, then so too could any defender of civil rights under the new administration. The threat of escalating violence looms large, especially in a context where one side is likely to possess more firearms. The recent executive order labeling antifa as a domestic terrorist organization, coupled with National Security Presidential Memorandum 7 targeting doxing, exemplifies how far right groups are preparing for a broader crackdown. These measures, framed as necessary for security, could serve as pretexts for further repression.
Moreover, the absence of a robust rule of law leaves room for opportunists to exploit the system. When institutions fail to deliver justice, citizens are left with the burden of enforcing it. This dynamic, while empowering, also risks becoming a tool of ideological warfare. The specter of civil war is not far-fetched: if the state cannot protect its citizens, the people may turn to direct action, even if it means sacrificing the principles of fairness and proportionality.
A Call for Democratic Accountability
Authoritarianism is not a new phenomenon for Americans; the South has long been a laboratory for oppressive systems, with the failures of Reconstruction serving as a cautionary tale. The abrupt halt of that democratic transition allowed entrenched power to persist, a lesson that remains relevant today. Yet, despite these historical precedents, there is a growing sense of uncertainty about how to address human rights violations in the present.
Argentina’s experience provides a model for how to confront impunity effectively. By mobilizing public opinion and using nonviolent means, its citizens managed to reclaim justice from those who had once controlled it. This approach, however, requires vigilance. The current administration’s promise of impunity must be countered with a renewed commitment to accountability. If Democrats fail to act, the people may be forced to do so, regardless of the cost.
Popular justice, as seen in Argentina’s escraches, is a reminder that moral outrage can be a force for good. It compels individuals to confront their actions in the presence of the community, fostering transparency and reintegration. Yet, it also carries the risk of becoming a tool for partisan vendettas. The key lies in maintaining a balance between grassroots action and institutional oversight, ensuring that justice is both swift and fair.
As the nation grapples with the legacy of authoritarianism, it must ask itself: what mechanisms can prevent the cycle of impunity from repeating? The answer may lie in learning from Argentina’s past, where citizens transformed their frustration into a powerful movement for accountability. By embracing these lessons, Americans can reclaim the moral high ground and ensure that those who commit atrocities are not allowed to prosper in the shadows.