Digital America Seems Ready for Civil War. Real America Just Wants a Break.

“I think my 4 year old German Shepard has more intelligence and common sense than this poor excuse of a female human.” -Foxnews.com comment section

“Try it bitch. Give it a go and let’s see how it all plays out. Any of you pussy #maga types want to give it a go, do it.” -Twitter

“Some Republicans call for second Civil War: ‘Citizens take arms!’” — Headline from Al.com

For almost three years, ever since I left the U.S. for a peripatetic life abroad, the digital landscape portrayed above is the America I’ve inhabited — a country composed of hateful tweets, apocalyptic headlines, and flaming online comments, a nation torn asunder by spite, anger, and mutual mistrust. As I sat on my patio in Guatemala, an evergreen volcano rising up beyond my laptop, I read how President Trump was poisoning the political waters with his “Big Lie,” I saw the country’s political institutions put to the test, and I watched the MAGA hordes descend on the Capitol on January 6. But as much as these seismic upheavals concerned me, it was something else that made me wonder if our nation is in the midst of an irreversible decline: the vitriol in the hearts and minds of the people. Everywhere I scrolled, everywhere I clicked, it seemed Americans were ready to give up on the promise of a great, united nation and eager to blame the downfall on the villains from the other side. It seemed we’d truly grown to hate each other.

Then, in April 2021, I came back for a visit. I was expecting the tension to be palpable, as it had been during my last trip home in October 2020: “Trump trains” inspiring cathartic howls from liberal motorists, anxious glances from young workers toward MAGA-hatted patrons, “F*ck Your Feelings” flags billowing in the wind. But I saw none of that. What I encountered was a nation relieved to no longer be so angry. People smiled on sidewalks and wished each other a nice day. Grocery shoppers were quick to joke with their neighbors in line. Everyone seemed genuinely at ease in each other’s presence, like we’d successfully willed our “imagined community” back into existence.

I returned to Guatemala after a week, where I opened my laptop and found digital America just as angry and hateful as before. Twitter users continued to lambast opponents as vile and malevolent, while media personalities and politicians gleefully stoked the flames of resentment. Tucker Carlson, whose every hateful utterance finds a lasting home on the internet, was urging his fans to verbally accost people they encountered wearing masks. Now, very few of his viewers will actually act on his exhortations — the partisan media machine typically oustrips the aggression of the average person— but this fanaticism does trickle down into the population in subtle ways, creating a radicalized subset of pseudo-aware Americans, many with a creeping penchant for political violence.

In a recent poll, 15% of Americans said violence might be necessary to save the county. Most aren’t hardened militia members or lifelong radicals. They’re “normal folks” who, for the most part, continue to act as kind, generous members of their communities. They’re moms who drop their kids off at soccer practice without a thought for the avuncular coach’s political leanings, dads who barely register the babysitter’s “Bernie” bumper sticker. And yet they accept the imminence of political violence. Many of them, statistics would suggest, are buying guns. Despite everything pretty much being the same, they’re convinced their country is being taken away from them, and they’re willing to fight to save it.

The U.S. I visited in April sure didn’t seem a society on the cusp of civil war. And why the hell should it be? Living standards are remarkably high, and our democracy, while flawed, remains a testament to the perspicacity of our founders. Our lives, despite the constraints of recent public health measures, are about as free as they could conceivably be (aside from the travesty of mass incarceration). Imperfections there are a-plenty, but a real reason for the U.S. to tear itself apart? I just don’t see it.

And yet the concerns about a future civil war are valid. Constitutional crises are looming, political disputes are inevitable, and God knows what could happen in a country whose armed citizens have been taught to villainize their neighbors. And taught by who? By media outlets and politicians that know outrage, not love, is the quickest route to the human soul.

Few in today’s America seem eager to slay their countrymen, but we shouldn’t take lightly the violence simmering beneath our political discourse. There’s a chapter in For Whom the Bell Tolls, Hemingway’s take on the Spanish Civil War, in which a character recounts the slaughter of political opponents in his village. When Franco invaded and fighting broke out, neighbors turned against neighbors to do their part in the struggle. The village’s Spanish Republicans stood in two lines, clubs in hand, and savagely bludgeoned to death their ideological enemies — shopkeepers and clergymen who, until that very morning, had been colleagues, confidants, and friends. God forbid anything like that happen in today’s United States of America.

It doesn’t have to end that way. This might sound simplistic and naive, but I’m fairly certain it’s true: If we stepped away from our screens and devices, tuned out the avaricious peddlers of hatred and lies, and just got on with our lives, we’d realize how good we’ve got it. We’d also remember how much we generally like each other.

Let’s not kill each other just because some asshole on TV says it’s a good idea.