Every time there is an instance of political violence in the world we hear calls from most quarters to the effect that such violence is always unacceptable, as a matter of principle. But is it? Here I intend to dig a bit deeper and go beyond the obligatory (and possibly hypocritical) semi-pious statements of politicians and pundits.
First off, what, exactly, is political violence? I think a reasonable definition might be that it is the use or threat of physical force by or against political actors (states, groups, or individuals) to influence, maintain, change, or resist political power, policies, or structures.
This is a purposefully broad definition, as it encompasses State violence (repression, war, police brutality), revolutionary violence (uprisings, coups, guerrilla warfare), terrorist violence (attacks on civilians for political aims), collective violence (riots, civil conflict), and targeted violence (assassinations, lynchings with political motives).
The key elements of political violence according to this definition are that it’s purposeful (i.e., not random), physical (it consists of actual or threatened bodily harm), and political (it’s aimed at power relations rather than purely personal, criminal, or economic motives, though these often overlap).
Types of (arguably) acceptable political violence
Now here comes the controversial bit. The above definition, seems to me, is broad enough to include both “legitimate” state violence (law enforcement, military action) and “illegitimate” non-state violence, while recognizing that the legitimacy question is often precisely what’s being contested. It also covers both instrumental violence (means to an end) and expressive violence (symbolic or communicative acts).
The question of the acceptability or not of political violence is one that philosophers, political theorists, and historians have grappled with for centuries. In all this time, they have been able to articulate a number of frameworks within the contexts of which political violence has been argued as potentially justifiable:
Self-defense and defense of others. The most widely accepted justification extends individual self-defense to collective action. When a government turns violently against its own people (genocide, systematic oppression), violence against the government becomes morally defensible under this framework. The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising exemplifies this principle.
Resistance to tyranny. Classical liberal theory, from Locke to the American founders, argues that people have a right to resist tyrannical government when it systematically violates fundamental rights and when peaceful remedies are exhausted. This was the theoretical foundation for the American Revolution, for example.
Last resort doctrine. Just war theory requires that violence only be used when all peaceful alternatives have been genuinely exhausted and there’s reasonable prospect of success. The anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa illustrates this progression from peaceful resistance to armed struggle.
Prevention of greater violence. Sometimes called the “lesser evil” argument—violence may be justified to prevent greater violence or catastrophic harm. The assassination plots against Hitler and Mussolini represent this reasoning, though they raise complex questions about acting on potential rather than current atrocities, not to mention the prickly issue of unintended consequences.
Popular sovereignty. When governments completely lack legitimacy and popular consent, some argue violent revolution becomes a form of collective self-determination rather than mere rebellion.
So, as we can see, things are not as simple as declaring outright the absolute unacceptability of political violence.
The “punch a Nazi” problem
At least in some circles I sometimes hear phrases along the lines of “the only proper response to a Nazi (or a fascist) is to punch them on the nose.” It’s a bit of a crude way to put it, but the underlying issue is the limits of tolerance of intolerant people within an open society. For instance, if we live in an society where freedom of speech is highly valued, one could argue that a fascist has the right to speak his mind, so long as he doesn’t engage in actual violence. Then again, the very purpose of the fascist’s speech is, eventually, to overthrow the liberal society that allows him to express his views. Something similar could be said about tolerating religious intolerance (by radical fundamentalists), or Ku Klux Klan-style white suprematism.
This problem was identified by Karl Popper in his influential The Open Society and Its Enemies, first published in 1945 (that is, right after the fall of the nazi-fascists in Europe). Popper called it the “paradox of tolerance,” and it is one of liberalism’s most vexing internal contradictions. The crude formulation about punching Nazi on the nose masks a genuinely sophisticated problem.
The core dilemma consists in the notion that liberal societies are built on procedural values (free speech, due process, tolerance) that are supposed to be neutral about outcomes. But what happens when people use those procedures to advocate for eliminating the procedures themselves? The fascist exploits liberal tolerance to gain power, then destroys the liberal system that enabled their rise. This isn’t hypothetical, it has happen over and over again.
Popper’s solution to the paradox of tolerance is that we should tolerate the intolerant only as long as they remain within the bounds of rational discourse. Once they resort to violence or incitement, tolerance ends. But this pushes the problem back a step—when exactly does speech cross that line?
John Rawls, one of the most influential moral philosophers of the 20th century, went further than Popper and argued that a just society need only tolerate those who would preserve the basic structure of justice. Intolerant groups forfeit their claim to tolerance when they threaten the equal liberty of others.
