What I saw at the insurrection worries me for after Inauguration Day
A jubilance rose from the crowd as it marched toward the Capitol. The marchers seemed peaceful, even respectful. They thanked police officers stationed along the route. They posed for photos with a woman dressed as the Statue of Liberty. They showed little hint of the violence about to unfold — until a woman with a megaphone walked past.
“Four more years!” she shouted. “Or civil war!”
Noticing my glare, she pointed her megaphone at me. “Four more years or civil war!” she shouted again.
It shocked me into remembering what was so strange about this crowd unwinding from the Ellipse beyond the White House to stage a deadly siege of the Capitol. And it’s why what I saw on Jan. 6 leaves me frightened for the country long after Inauguration Day.
These were people who might have been from the conservative Pennsylvania town where I grew up. Overwhelmingly white, they were men with heavy beards wearing Carhartt jackets and cowboy hats. Women sported pink “Keep America Great” hats. Pickup trucks with out-of-state plates were parked on the fringes of the city, beyond the core where the streets had been cordoned off for their rally.
“Whose streets?” a man shouted through a megaphone. It was Jacob Chansely, the man the world would soon recognize as the Q Shaman. He wore a fur pelt and horns on his head. Nordic tattoos spread across his bare torso. His face was painted red, white and blue, and he held a spear affixed with an American flag. Conspiracy theories propelled him from Arizona to storm the Capitol and stand on the the Senate floor.
“Our streets!” the crowd shouted.
If he looked like an outlier, his beliefs dovetailed with those around him. These weren’t just supporters turning out to hear their candidate. These were thousands — tens of thousands — of Trump backers who poured from across the country driven by the disputed, disproven, delusional notion that the election had been stolen and Trump was the rightful winner. No evidence supported it. No judge accepted it. Still, they believed, and belief was enough.
They chanted “Stop the Steal!” but stealing was exactly what they had in mind. These people had come to overturn an election in the name of democracy. With so many waving Blue Lives Matter flags, this crowd would assault the police guarding the Capitol. A band of self-described patriots would attack the seat of American government itself.
As Trump appeared on giant screens over the masses gathered beneath the Washington Monument, he stoked their passions and reminded them of their shifting list of enemies. Republicans could no longer be trusted. Even the vice president wasn’t an ally anymore. “Hang Mike Pence!” rioters would shout as they invaded the Capitol.
Trump alone seemed to have their allegiance. Men climbed trees to get a better view of him speaking. One unfurled the familiar Gadsden flag, the yellow rattlesnake banner emblazoned with the words “Don’t tread on me.”
“Can you imagine anyone doing that for Biden?” a woman asked me.
Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if even Trump would hold their allegiance much longer. He tapped into a current of anger that ran through this country before him and will continue to flow after he’s out of the White House. While “1776” was a rallying cry for this crowd, for many, 1861 was more on their minds.
They may have had gathered to call for four more years for Trump, but for many of the thousands who teemed into D.C. — and legions more who didn’t — civil war was what they were after. Trump may be out of the White House after Inauguration Day, but the resentments he stoked remain.
