The assassination of Charlie Kirk on Sept. 10 has intensified the profound political divisions in the United States. While Kirk’s widow Erika called for forgiveness of his killer at his memorial service, President Donald Trump threatened to deploy the tools of the federal government to destroy individuals and institutions he labeled as the “radical left.”
Although prominent Democrats have condemned Kirk’s murder, many have resisted lionizing a man they considered divisive. Is there a path of political reconciliation during such a time of political, cultural, and economic division?
The history of the French Revolution helps illuminate the stakes and the challenges at hand. In particular, this history suggests that when each side views the other as an existential threat, maintaining political power becomes the greatest imperative—which only increases the likelihood of authoritarian solutions arising as a result.
The French Revolution of 1789 had many causes—political, ideological, economic, and social—yet in its early phases, many people were optimistic about forming a new representative government based on meritocracy and leaving behind an absolutist polity and hierarchical class structures. The members of the newly formed National Assembly, including representatives of all three French “estates”—clergy, aristocrats, and commoners, came together to forge a government envisioned as a constitutional monarchy ruling in tandem with an elected legislative assembly.
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However, deep divisions soon appeared: the more liberal members of the National Assembly were convinced that the political right was scheming to undermine the Revolution and bring back absolute monarchy—especially when war broke out with European countries hostile to France’s political changes. Conspiracy theories and inflammatory rhetoric emerged among both the general population and the political elite.
As King Louis XVI’s lack of commitment to democratic change became clear, violence broke out in Paris and elsewhere, leading to the overthrow of the monarchy and the declaration of the French Republic in September 1792. The king’s execution in January 1793 led to civil war throughout much of the nation. Royalists fled the country, fearing legal and physical danger.
Divisions emerged even among those committed to democratic reforms. A struggle among factions in the National Convention led to the defeat and arrest of the leftwing Jacobins’ political enemies. During the bloody and violent year that followed, often referred to as the Terror, the Jacobin leadership, including Maximilien Robespierre, tried to eliminate political dissent within the country at the same time that it fought enemies abroad. To do this, the Jacobins loosened the legal safeguards that guaranteed due process; they imprisoned and executed thousands of French citizens in 1793–1794.
The Terror came to an end when Robespierre’s erstwhile allies began to fear that he was coming for them next. A genuine cabal came together quickly and accused him of a conspiracy against the public good and of plotting to bring down his political opponents. They took advantage of the lax legal procedures to condemn Robespierre and his allies to death by guillotine the next day, 10 Thermidor according to the Revolutionary calendar (July 28, 1794). In the days that followed, sometimes called the White Terror, those who had suffered in prison and lost family members turned their fury on the Jacobins they held responsible.
In the wake of such carnage and with such intense hatred on both sides, how could the French people reconcile with each other?
One effort was to scapegoat Robespierre and his closest friends, who were no longer alive to defend themselves. Politicians, in some cases Robespierre’s former allies, tried to make him solely responsible for the excesses of the previous years.
But political divisions remained because of genuine ideological differences. Jacobins continued to believe that French governmental structures should remain responsive to the French people, while more conservative politicians believed that it was necessary to clamp down on popular unrest and to restrict governance to the elite. The constitution of 1795 reflected these more conservative views. The new government, the Directory, was Republican in form, but it limited direct electoral power to wealthy men.
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At the same time, many French men and women believed that the end of the Terror and the creation of new governmental structures offered the possibility for political stability and social reconciliation. Former “enemies of the people,” forced into hiding and exile during the Terror, benefited from periods of political amnesty in the years that followed. Royalist émigrés began to trickle back into the country in 1795, and a number of Jacobins who renounced their earlier radicalism were also reintegrated into civil society.
Salons—social gatherings of men and women dedicated to the discussion of politics and culture—re-emerged and often included those of differing political views. Here, women played a conciliatory role. Political philosopher Germaine de Staël opened her salon to a diverse group of men and women; Thérésia Cabarrus, who had helped royalists escape France, was married to a former Jacobin, Jean-Lambert Tallien, and also worked in favor of political reconciliation. The famous painter Jacques-Louis David, a fervent Jacobin under the Terror, subsequently committed himself to bringing the French people back together. His famous painting of The Intervention of the Sabines (1799) was a tribute to the power of political reconciliation.
And yet, social and cultural efforts could not overcome the political divides that violence and distrust had dug into the French social fabric. The conservative republican men who controlled the Directory, the new French government, believed that allowing their enemies from either the right or left to come to power was too dangerous for them and for France. When the legislative elections in the spring of 1797 led to a monarchist majority, the Directors annulled the results, arrested over 50 right-wing deputies in what was called the coup of 18 Fructidor (Sept. 4, 1797), and sent a number of royalists into exile once again. The following year, the coup of 22 Floréal (May 11, 1798) purged elected Jacobins.
Clearly, the efforts to rebuild civil society had done little to bridge political divisions.
Against this background, Napoleon Bonaparte emerged as a leader who promised to mend political and social divisions—with his Coup of 18th Brumaire (Nov. 9, 1799) supported by many French elite who believed that he could unite the country. Bonaparte used the tools of government to harass Jacobins and curb dissent—a disaster for civil society. While political violence decreased, his heavy-handed rule papered over France’s wounds without healing them. His pursuit of military adventures was one way he tried to bring the French together, but his defeat in Russia and eventually at Waterloo brought down his empire in 1815. Political and social divisions continued to fester in France, leading to frequent unrest and periodic revolution over the course of the 19th century.
The lesson? Clamping down on dissent cannot heal political and cultural hatreds. The French had the right idea after Thermidor: to focus on civil society to bring the nation together. But this was not enough without responsible political leaders also committed to the project.
At her husband’s funeral, Erika Kirk called for “love for our enemies and love for those who persecute us.” Likewise, the children of the late Minnesota Speaker of the House who was gunned down last summer, Melissa Hortman, also reminded us that the only way out is to treat each other with kindness and respect—a useful message for our political leaders and fellow citizens to heed. It would be even better if we could also regard our political opponents as fellow Americans, not enemies.
Christine Adams, a former American Council for Learned Societies and Andrew W. Mellon Foundation fellow at the Newberry Library, is professor of history at St. Mary’s College of Maryland and author of The Creation of the French Royal Mistress with Tracy Adams.
Made by History takes readers beyond the headlines with articles written and edited by professional historians. Learn more about Made by History at TIME here. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of TIME editors.
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