“Now is the time for revolution…They can’t defeat us all.” These words from Giancarlo Esposito, known for his role in “Breaking Bad,” resonate with today’s rising number of self-identified revolutionaries. With the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence around the corner, the feeling of a revolutionary spirit is palpable once again.
This Tuesday marks the release of my book, Anger and the Republic: The Unfinished Story of the American Revolution, which delves into the foundation of our distinct republic and its potential future. It’s an exploration of revolutions and the toll they take on those who instigate them. Interestingly, the American and French Revolutions, happening simultaneously, yielded vastly different outcomes—a robust democracy versus a brutal regime during the Reign of Terror.
In the process of writing this book, I found myself juxtaposing the past with the present. A pivotal moment occurred when I was at my law school office. I recount it like this:
“In May 2024, while immersed in my research, I was suddenly reminded of the tumultuous atmosphere of revolutions as a crowd outside chanted ‘Guillotine! Guillotine! Guillotine!’ This didn’t happen in Paris but right on the Quad at George Washington University. It felt surreal, as if the French Revolution had made its way to me. Students conducted a mock trial against the university’s president for not meeting demands voiced during protests over Israel. We camped out in the garden near my office for weeks, amid chants like ‘Get off my head’ and ‘Go to the gallows.’ This farcical trial left me pondering the unsettling thought: could we really devolve into such madness? Protests nowadays seem to be getting more radical and, at times, violent. Despite having one of the most stable constitutional systems ever, I sometimes wonder if it can withstand the times we live in.”
This book is an examination of whether the American republic can endure in the 21st century faced with issues like robotics, artificial intelligence, and overarching global systems. It discusses the emergence of the “Neo-Jacobins,” a term for politicians and academics demanding drastic changes and even the abandonment of the Constitution.
The original Jacobins included journalists and critics who aimed to dismantle existing governance. Today, similar voices echo in our media. For instance, Erwin Chemerinsky, who leads the University of California, Berkeley School of Law, wrote about how “No Democracy Lasts Forever” while expressing skepticism about the Constitution’s future.
Prominent publications like the New York Times frequently feature pieces advocating for scrapping the Constitution entirely, along with rights such as free speech. In one such column, Harvard law professors Ryan D. Dorfler and Samuel Moyn argued for taking America back from constitutionalism, dismissing any so-called “worship” of the Constitution as misguided.
Public discourse has taken a darker turn, with Republicans and law enforcement labeled as “Nazis” by some Democratic leaders. Arrests appear imminent, with Philadelphia’s District Attorney Larry Krasner vowing to pursue ICE agents under such comparisons. Minnesota’s Democratic Governor Tim Walz even described ICE as “Gestapo,” likening current tensions to the pivotal moments that ignited the American Civil War.
This dehumanization of political opponents can lead to extreme reactions. Protests have featured signs calling for violence against perceived rivals, and shocking incidents—like assassination attempts on notable figures—illustrate the severity of the situation. A notable statistic revealed that a quarter of Americans now rationalize political violence.
Yet, through all this chaos, there seems to be a strange admiration for those who resort to violence. Following a shooting incident involving a notable executive, reactions were mixed, with praise directed at the alleged shooter. One commentator described him as a modern-day revolutionary, likening him to the influential figures of past revolutions.
The imagery of guillotines has become commonplace at protests; one could hardly fathom such symbolism making its way to the heart of the nation’s capital. Yet, radical figures often start as proponents of justice before succumbing to extremes. Maximilien Robespierre famously stated, “Terrorism is nothing but justice,” suggesting a disturbing justification for violent acts.
The foundational fears of the Framers revolved around the potential despotism of a tyrannical majority. They aimed to prevent a similar fate as democracies that had faltered in the past, like Athens.
During the French Revolution, someone noted that revolutions are known to “devour their own children,” a trend that has echoed through history. The Jacobins, once the harbingers of change, ultimately fell victim to the very terror they perpetuated.
It’s interesting to consider that the American Revolution prioritized freedom over democracy, marking it as a revolutionary movement inspired by Enlightenment principles. Its leaders viewed direct democracy as a dangerous path leading to mob rule.
Surprisingly, many contemporary neo-Jacobins seem intent on dismantling safeguards established to limit popular whims. They’re attempting to reshape the Supreme Court and alter the Constitution, believing it can lead to significant reforms. It’s notable how, in past discussions about extreme measures, figures like Harvard law professor Michael Claman warned that the judiciary is crucial in this battle.
We’ve certainly seen this before. My new book, Anger and the Republic, narrates this story through the life of Thomas Paine, a significant player in both the American and French Revolutions. He faced many of Madison’s “precautions” and nearly lost his life in France, escaping the guillotine by mere chance.
History tends to show us that igniting a revolution is far easier than quelling it. As political leaders incite unrest in major cities, they might eventually find that today’s revolutionaries could become the reactionaries of tomorrow.
One of the few leaders from the early 1800s who survived was Abbot Emmanuel Joseph Siyes, often regarded as the Thomas Paine of the French Revolution. When asked about his role during the upheaval, he simply reflected, “J’ai vécu” (“I survived”).
