[C]ondemnations of political violence are good. They’re also meaningless—especially when taken in the broader context of Trump’s governing style. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that since Trump first ran for office, political violence has been on the rise. When it’s useful to Trump, he praises violence and makes leveraging the threat of it endemic to his style of politics. When Montana’s then–congressional candidate (and now-governor) Greg Gianforte assaulted a reporter in 2017, Trump later said, “Any guy that can do a body slam, he is my type!” After Kyle Rittenhouse shot and killed a protester in Kenosha, Wisconsin, in the summer of 2020, he had a friendly meeting with Trump at Mar-a-Lago the next year. And during a presidential debate against Joe Biden that fall, when Trump was asked if he would rebuke the Proud Boys, a far-right organization with a history of inciting violence, he told the group to “stand back and stand by,” as though he were giving it orders. (This is also how the Proud Boys interpreted it.)

Trump made his willingness to engage in political violence especially clear during the Capitol insurrection on January 6, 2021. Instead of immediately attempting to call off his rabid supporters, Trump sat on his hands as his supporters stormed the Capitol—even as members of his own party urged him to help. Despite having lost the election, Trump appeared okay with violence if it helped him maintain the presidency.

Since retaking office, Trump has appeared to continue this tradition. When Pete Hegseth, the president’s pick for secretary of defense, faced a sexual-assault accusation ahead of his confirmation vote, violence may have been the ingredient that ensured that Trump got his way. Republican Senator Thom Tillis seemed concerned that some of the allegations against Hegseth could be credible and was on track to tank his nomination. According to Vanity Fair, the FBI warned Tillis of “credible death threats” against him, which could have played a role in his decision to back down. Tillis has not said whether the death threats influenced his Hegseth vote, but his office released recordings of the threats he has received.

Other Republicans in Congress are afraid of opposing Trump because of similar potential concerns for their safety. Many have gone on the record in recent years and said as much. Mitt Romney told my colleague McKay Coppins that a fellow congressman confessed to him that he had wanted to vote for Trump’s second impeachment in 2021 but ultimately chose not to out of fear for his family’s safety. That same year, Republican Representative Peter Meijer told my colleague Tim Alberta that he witnessed a fellow member of Congress have a near breakdown over fear that Trump supporters would come for his family if he voted to certify the 2020 election results.

All of this is to say that when Trump condemns acts of political violence, it’s impossible to take him seriously.

Ali Breland