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DEMOCRACY NEEDS THE LOSER  
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Barbara F. Walter
August 24, 2024
The New Yorker
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_ The observance of defeat, especially in an election, is often all
that keeps a state from tipping into violence. _

Protesters rally during the 2016 Republican National Convention.,
Matt Black / Magnum

 

The election was all anyone could talk about. The country would soon
choose a new President, and conversations in homes, marketplaces, and
houses of worship were dominated by a single topic: Who would win?
Lurking behind these discussions was a more ominous question: Would
there be violence? During the previous election, four years earlier,
mobs had burned buildings, snatched ballot boxes, and targeted
government leaders for assassination. When the outcome was announced,
supporters of the vanquished candidate had erupted. The election, they
claimed, had been stolen. Roughly two hundred people died in a matter
of days.

Nigerians knew that the 2011 Presidential election might be similar.
Muhammadu Buhari, the retired general who had lost in 2007, was facing
off against the sitting President, Goodluck Jonathan. Buhari was
running as a populist, an avowed outsider, despite the fact that he
had been the country’s military head of state in the eighties,
before the modern Presidency was established. He promised to bring
order and security to Nigerians, and his main base of support came
from the country’s rural and working-class voters, who loved him.
When Buhari ran and lost in 2003 and 2007, he claimed the elections
had been rigged. He challenged the results in court, but both times
his case was dismissed.

In many ways, the tension surrounding the election was unsurprising.
Nigeria has a federal system comprising dozens of states, and the
country is deeply divided. Buhari’s main supporters came from the
poor, rural north, and many of them felt left behind by the wealthier,
more educated south, where Jonathan was from, and where most of the
country’s oil and gas reserves were situated. Compounding this
economic divide was a religious one. Jonathan’s region was largely
Christian, with increasing support for evangelicalism, while
Buhari’s was embracing more extreme forms of Islam. In the early
two-thousands, a wave of states in Buhari’s stronghold began to
expand the use of Sharia law, and in 2009 the jihadist group Boko
Haram sparked an insurgency against the federal government. The two
halves of the country distrusted each other. Jonathan’s supporters
feared that Buhari and his allies would pursue a conservative
religious agenda if in power, while Buhari’s base feared being
permanently excluded from government.

If Buhari lost in 2011, he suggested, he would not appeal to the
courts again: “Anybody who stands in the way of the people will be
crushed by the people.” His supporters echoed his threats, saying
that “all hell would be let loose” if Buhari was not declared the
winner. Election Day—a Saturday—was peaceful. But violence broke
out on Sunday, as preliminary results suggested that Jonathan would
win. One of the first attacks took place at a college in the northern
city of Zaria. According to Human Rights Watch, a crowd of young
people armed with sticks, clubs, and machetes stormed the campus,
demanding that students reveal their religious and ethnic identities,
along with their political affiliations. Then the mob beat a group of
students to death.

The worst violence was in Kaduna, a state in the middle of the country
that had a fairly balanced mix of Muslims and Christians. Armed mobs
of Buhari supporters roamed the streets, attacking police stations and
the homes of Jonathan supporters. Violence then moved farther south,
as Christians began to seek revenge against Muslims. The attacks and
rioting lasted for roughly three days, and some witnesses reported
that it subsided only when the government deployed soldiers to
intercede. In the end, an estimated eight hundred people—mainly in
Kaduna—were killed, and sixty-five thousand were displaced.

When people think of elections, they usually focus on who might win
and the policies that the winner is likely to enact once in office.
But equally important in a democracy is how the loser reacts. If he or
she does not accept the vote, then portions of a country can become
ungovernable. Buhari’s devoted followers did what many, throughout
history, have done when their favored leader faced defeat: they turned
to violence. Democracies survive only if losers accept the results.

As the United States barrels toward another contentious election, the
spectre of such violence looms. The last Presidential election was
followed by an attack on the Capitol
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and just weeks ago the man who encouraged that attack, Donald Trump,
was nearly assassinated
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I have been studying contested elections in deeply divided democracies
for decades, reading about thousands that have taken place. It’s a
rich field filled with experts who have analyzed enormous amounts of
data. We know the ways in which an election loss can spark violence,
and we know what risk factors make unrest more likely.

The first rule is that, in order to accept defeat, citizens need hope.
Hope—the belief that every election will not be the last—is the
glue that binds citizens to the democratic process. It drives them to
vote, to run for office, and to care that the system survives. When
people and parties believe that they can win in the future, they are
more likely to accept temporary setbacks. But hope relies on
uncertainty. If people feel that they know the outcome of an election
in advance, either because their party does not have enough votes or
they believe the outcome is rigged, hope disappears.

In its place, violence tends to break out. This is what happened after
Buhari’s second and third defeats, but it’s a pattern found
throughout history. In Northern Ireland, many Irish Catholics
eventually backed the I.R.A. and its violent methods when they became
convinced that Protestants, using gerrymandering, voter suppression,
and London’s military support, would always win. In Venezuela,
violent protests started in 2013, after the incumbent party was
declared the winner by a narrow margin and the opposition candidate
cried foul. The 2007 Presidential election in Kenya provoked
widespread violence—initially, from opposition supporters of Raila
Odinga, who alleged that the election was rigged—resulting in more
than a thousand deaths and the displacement of hundreds of thousands.

We know what political conditions make populations vulnerable to
losing hope. Majoritarian systems with strong Presidents—such as
Nigeria’s—create a winner-takes-all dynamic, in which the party
that wins the most votes assumes all, or nearly all, the power. In a
parliamentary system, power is often shared by different parties,
making coöperation essential. Majoritarian-style systems are more
dangerous: losing an election may leave significant portions of the
electorate without representation, reduce incentives for interparty
collaboration, and allow the winning side to impose its agenda on the
losers. This type of system existed in most countries that experienced
significant political violence between 1960 and 1995, including
Afghanistan, Angola, Burundi, Indonesia, Nigeria, the Philippines, and
Rwanda. In the past century, the majority of civil wars appear to have
occurred in winner-takes-all systems, rather than in parliamentary
ones. After the 2007 election in Kenya, much of the violence occurred
between the Kikuyu and Luo ethnic groups, likely because each viewed
the election as a high-stakes, zero-sum contest for its political and
economic survival. It is the fear of exclusion that drives people to
fight.

Governments with parties that are organized by race, ethnicity, or
religion make elections even more fraught. Think of the Catholic and
Protestant parties in Northern Ireland. If voters choose a party based
mainly on their religious or racial identity, then elections become a
numbers game, determined by the shifting demographics of the country.
If your group is shrinking as a percentage of the population, then you
can anticipate, with dreadful precision, the year you will essentially
be shut out of the system. Nothing kills hope as fast as knowing that
you are becoming a minority in a majoritarian system.

Finally, elections are particularly dangerous in democracies whose
institutions are weak or under attack. If citizens believe those in
power can manipulate the outcome of an election, then some will come
to believe that violence and even war may be justified. Demagogues and
would-be dictators, anticipating a potential loss, can groom their
supporters to reject the results, using claims of fraud and calls for
retribution. Jair Bolsonaro
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this in Brazil. Ferdinand Marcos, Jr.,
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done this in the Philippines. Each used lies and fear to convince
their supporters that a loss in the polls was proof that the system
itself was illegitimate.

Even though political scientists have long studied these risk factors,
almost no one considered the U.S. a serious candidate for
post-election violence until recently. Americans have historically had
a great deal of trust in their system of government, and hence a long
tradition of electoral losers conceding gracefully. America’s first
President, George Washington, refused to seek a third term, making
clear that the Presidency was not a lifetime appointment. Since then,
five Americans have lost the election even after winning the popular
vote: Andrew Jackson, Samuel Tilden, Grover Cleveland, Al Gore, and
Hillary Clinton. Tilden won the popular vote in 1876, the
highest-turnout election, by percentage of eligible voters, in U.S.
history. He also possibly won the Electoral College vote, yet an
ad-hoc commission handed the Presidency to Rutherford B. Hayes, likely
because of a back-room deal to end military Reconstruction in the
South. Tilden, valuing the country’s stability, conceded. In a
speech at the Manhattan Club that year, he said, “If my voice could
reach throughout our country and be heard in its remotest hamlet I
would say, ‘Be of good cheer. The Republic will live. The
institutions of our fathers are not to expire in shame.’ ”

But, in the past eight years, these attitudes have changed. It’s now
impossible to ignore that America has all the characteristics of a
country at risk. We have the exact type of political
system—Presidential, winner-takes-all—that is most vulnerable.
Various democratic norms are being degraded by gerrymandering and
voter suppression, and long-harmful features of our political
system—the Electoral College, corporate money, lifetime appointments
for judges—show little sign of reform. We also have a candidate for
President who is actively sowing mistrust in the upcoming election.
Trump has accused Democrats and others, hundreds of times, of
attempting to “influence,” “cheat,” “rig,” and “steal”
November’s election. In July, he told a group of Christian
conservatives that, if they voted for him, “in four years, you
don’t have to vote again. We’ll have it fixed so good, you’re
not going to have to vote.” J. D. Vance, his running mate, has
championed the January 6th
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and said he would have tried to overturn the 2020 election results.
This is the type of incendiary rhetoric that Buhari and his team used
in the lead-up to the 2011 election.

Meanwhile, the parties themselves seem increasingly split along
racial, ethnic, and religious lines. Project 2025
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the well-funded Republican initiative backing Trump’s election, aims
to yoke the government to Christian nationalist values, creating a
state that will impose stringent limits on immigration. The
demographic change that has left so many white Americans feeling
insecure and threatened will continue to advance. History tells us
that the groups that initiate violence tend to be those which had once
been politically dominant but are in decline. If Trump loses again,
the more extreme members of the _MAGA_ base will have even more
evidence that the system no longer works for them, and that their
chance of winning in the future is going to plummet. They will lose
hope in our federal government, and in our democracy.

What would violence look like if Trump loses? It would likely start
with protests against the election results, which could turn into
riots. Far-right militias might join in. They would not begin by
attacking Democratic voters. Instead, they would first target those
they perceive to be traitors within their own party: Republicans who
are deemed too moderate, those who have reached across party lines,
refused to support _MAGA_, or who have enacted laws with which these
extremists disagree. This is what happened in Nigeria in 2011.
Buhari’s most ardent supporters didn’t start by killing Christians
who happened to live in the north. They attacked groups who seemed to
be collaborating with the federal government: police, party officials.
The January 6th rioters who stormed the Capitol also seemed to have
targets in mind, including Trump’s own Vice-President, Mike Pence.
Rioters chanted, “Hang Mike Pence,” for his role in refusing to
certify the election for Trump.

In the U.S., extremists would likely then target minorities living in
red and purple states, attempting to marginalize supposed interlopers
in their communities. In Nigeria, rioters in Muslim-majority areas
attacked local Christians, burning their churches and shops. When
people feel insecure, they seek to cleanse their communities of those
they deem a potential threat. If the white, Christian males who make
up the core of the _MAGA_ base no longer have the votes to control
the federal government, then they will insure that they have the votes
to control many of the red and purple states in which they live.

But the most violence can be expected in the states with a fairly
equal balance of white Americans and nonwhite Americans, where power
is still being contested. Experts have found that some of the most
volatile countries are the ones whose societies are divided into two
relatively large groups. Some of the greatest racial tension in the
United States has occurred in places where the white and nonwhite
populations were relatively even. This included several former
Confederate states during Reconstruction, after Black people were
given the right to vote and hold office, as well as cities such as
Birmingham, Memphis, Cleveland, Gary, and Newark, which experienced
bursts of violence as they became minority-white, starting in the
nineteen-sixties. It is the mixed cities, states, and regions—just
like Kaduna, in Nigeria—where the declining side feels most
threatened. In the United States today, this means that places like
Georgia, Florida, Nevada, North Carolina, and Arizona could become hot
spots of violence.

In the short term, a Democratic loss in November is likely to yield a
more peaceful transition. But, in the longer term, we’ll probably
see more violence under a Trump Presidency, especially if he uses the
office to favor white Americans. Nonwhites are projected to represent
a majority of Americans by 2044, and they will not remain silent
should they become excluded from power. A response from the left might
start, for example, with mass protests around the country. Whether
this escalates to violence will depend on how Trump responds; one of
the fastest ways to radicalize a population is to answer peaceful
protests with force. This is what happened with the Basques in Spain,
the Vietnamese during the Vietnam War, and Syrians during the Arab
Spring. Trump has shown every indication of advocating for a
heavy-handed military response.

Is there a way out? One reason to maintain hope is that numerous
places in America have already completed the demographic shift, with
white majorities becoming minorities. In California, and in cities
like Memphis and Birmingham, racial conflict eventually decreased
after this transition was complete. California, for example, began to
embrace its diversity as its minority population amassed enough
support to wield political power. The state shed its reputation for
anti-immigrant activism—in the nineties, voters passed a measure
that would prevent the undocumented from attending public school—to
become a forward-thinking model for policies on inclusion. And, in
many cities that elected Black mayors for the first time, tensions
declined when it became clear that nonwhite leadership would not hurt
whites. White fears of a Black mayor in Los Angeles greatly diminished
after Tom Bradley’s highly successful, twenty-year tenure, even
though violence flared again during the 1992 riots. In these cases,
racial fear was broadly replaced with racial acceptance.

Our greatest hope may be uncertainty itself. A key piece of data that
most Americans don’t know is that much of the immigrant population
in the United States is unaffiliated with either the Democratic or
Republican Party. Surveys also show that many Latinos and Asian
Americans remain independent; they don’t feel any affinity for
either party, and don’t know where they themselves fit in. This is
the gift of democracy—the opportunity to persuade, to work toward
new and better futures, and to recognize that both setbacks and
victories are what allow this work to continue. ♦

_Barbara F. Walter teaches at the University of California, San Diego.
She is the author of “How Civil Wars Start
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and is a member of the National Academy of Sciences, the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, and the Council on Foreign Relations._

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* democracy
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* Violence
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* elections
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* race
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* ethnicity
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* religion
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