Five summers ago, the coronavirus pandemic coincided with a surge of public anger over police violence following the highly publicized death of George Floyd. This, coupled with the ongoing impact of Covid-19 and political tensions surrounding President Trump’s reelection campaign, led to widespread unrest in cities across the U.S. The media, cultural institutions, and political discourse tended to oversimplify the situation into narratives of “social justice” and “antiracism.” In his book, “Our Summer of Frustration: Age of Certainty and End of Discourse” (Knopf, August 5), Thomas Chatterton Williams paints a nuanced picture of the key ideas and events that marked the transformative summer of 2020. Here’s a glimpse of his reflections.
In Kenosha, Wisconsin, 17-year-old Kyle Rittenhouse, despite being too young to legally purchase an AR-15, found himself in the midst of chaos. He had a strange role to play, one that arguably shouldn’t have happened at all, but through his actions—however misguided—he believed he was trying to make his community safer. His presence, armed and alert, only seemed to escalate the tension around him.
On August 25, 2020, events began to unfold rapidly as Rittenhouse joined a group striving to clean up Kenosha. That morning, Joseph Rosenbaum had just been released from a psychiatric hospital nearby. At 36, he had a long history of criminal behavior, including severe issues of domestic violence and assault. As chaos reigned in Kenosha, Rosenbaum sought help at a police station for his belongings but found the place locked up due to the unrest. He then attempted to get his prescription medicine from a closed Walgreens, aggravating the situation further. Meanwhile, Rittenhouse was gearing up to join another group later that night.
As night descended, Rittenhouse was seen standing watch with other armed individuals outside a car dealership. His mission was clear: he believed he was there to protect businesses. “People are getting hurt,” he said, “and it’s my job to help.” His determination, though, created an environment ripe for conflict.
Rosenbaum, on the other hand, would soon surge into the scene. He had a troubled demeanor, and as he approached the makeshift militia, chaos ensued. The crowd witnessed him shout taunts, revealing a reckless bravado. “Don’t aim that gun at me!” he yelled, later switching to a more aggressive challenge. His antics contrasted starkly with the calm demeanor that many around him attempted to maintain.
This complex dynamic often gets lost in mainstream discussions about race and violence. The narratives rarely acknowledge the nuances present that night in Kenosha. The tensions were palpable, but Rosenbaum’s use of racially charged language was not aimed at the Black individuals present; rather, it was directed at the group in which he found himself.
With escalating provocations, Rosenbaum resorted to dangerous actions, like pushing a burning dumpster toward a gas pump, spurring concern among bystanders. And while police sporadically appeared in armored vehicles, they largely stayed on the sidelines, leaving civilians like Rittenhouse to insert themselves into the chaos.
“Move away from the businesses,” law enforcement urged from a distance, as tensions continued to boil. In the cacophony, Rosenbaum swung a metal chain, and Rittenhouse stood firm with his rifle. The scene was surreal—a mix of grave seriousness and chaotic farce as police appeared to outsource their responsibility for safety to untrained civilians.
As night pressed on, Rittenhouse attempted to offer assistance, seemingly oblivious to how precarious the situation had become. The crowds had grown agitated, and soon gunfire erupted. Rittenhouse and Rosenbaum found themselves locked in a dangerous dance of accusations and violence, leading to fatal outcomes. The chaotic scene spiraled into chaos as Rittenhouse shot Rosenbaum before firing at two others who confronted him amidst the surging crowd.
The aftermath was swift and confusing. As Rittenhouse attempted to flee, he had to face a torrent of misconceptions—from his immediate environment and within himself. He eventually turned himself in at the police station, claiming he had shot “two white kids.” The incident sparked fierce debate, with some labeling him a “racist murderer.” But the reality was far more complicated than that.
The aftermath of the violence became entangled in discussions about race and injustice, forcing a closer examination of societal issues. The events of that night, and those preceding it, were not merely tragic but steeped in a web of contradiction and complexity that defied simple classification.
Excerpt from “Summer of our dissatisfaction: age of certainty and end of discourse” (Knopf, August 5, 2025). Copyright©2025 by Thomas Chatterton Williams
