Preventing Political Violence Through Collective Agency

Introduction

Political violence rarely erupts from nowhere. It grows in the shadows of humiliation, isolation, and the slow suffocation of blocked agency. When someone concludes that the only meaningful political act left is to kill, they are revealing something about their inner world and about the ecosystem around them. They have come to believe that collective pathways are closed, that spectacle is the last available language, and that self-sacrifice fused with destruction will awaken a sleeping public.

For organizers, this is not a matter of psychological curiosity. It is a strategic challenge. If movements fail to offer credible avenues for shared power, disillusionment curdles into nihilism. If we cannot demonstrate that collective action can rupture systems, then the myth of the lone avenger becomes seductive.

The question is not simply how to condemn political violence. It is how to make it obsolete. The deeper task is to transform feelings of powerlessness into lived experiences of agency, to create rituals of shared courage that outshine fantasies of martyrdom, and to build forms of sovereignty that make assassination or sabotage feel archaic.

This essay argues that preventing political violence requires organizers to design community practices that restore agency, broadcast believable paths to change, and construct tangible alternatives to domination. When people taste collective power, the appeal of solitary destruction begins to fade.

The Psychology of Political Violence: Agency, Spectacle, and Sacrifice

Acts of political assassination are rarely impulsive. They are premeditated, often calmly rationalized. The perpetrator frames the violence as a moral offering. They imagine themselves courageous, willing to sacrifice their own life for a higher good. This is not mere rage. It is a distorted theory of change.

To understand how to prevent such acts, you must examine the implicit beliefs beneath them.

The Myth of Blocked Agency

Many individuals drawn toward political violence experience a profound sense of political impotence. They believe that voting is meaningless, protest is theatrical, and reform is impossible. They perceive leaders as untouchable symbols of a system that cannot be influenced through ordinary means.

When every institutional door appears locked, the mind searches for a master key. Violence presents itself as a shortcut to agency. If one cannot persuade or reform, one can at least disrupt. The act becomes proof that the individual is not powerless.

Here lies the paradox. The violent actor seeks to reclaim agency, yet does so through an act that reinforces the logic of domination. They replicate the very structure they claim to oppose: the idea that power flows from the ability to destroy.

Spectacle as Political Currency

Modern politics is saturated with spectacle. Leaders perform strength. Media amplifies drama. In such an environment, assassination appears as the ultimate spectacle. It guarantees attention. It forces a narrative rupture.

But spectacle without sovereignty evaporates. History shows that while assassinations shock, they rarely produce structural transformation. Leaders are replaced. Security expands. Repression intensifies. The system metabolizes the shock.

Consider how the assassination of national figures has often strengthened the state apparatus rather than weakened it. Emergency laws pass. Surveillance grows. Public fear consolidates support for authority. The violent gesture becomes fuel for the machine it sought to dismantle.

The Seduction of Martyrdom

There is also a spiritual dimension. The violent actor imagines themselves as martyr. They are willing to face imprisonment or death. In their mind, this willingness confers moral superiority. Self-sacrifice becomes proof of righteousness.

Movements must take this seriously. Self-sacrifice is not inherently pathological. It is a core ingredient of transformative politics. The civil rights movement relied on disciplined nonviolent sacrifice to expose injustice. The difference lies in direction. Nonviolent self-sacrifice reveals the brutality of the system. Violent sacrifice often obscures it.

If organizers fail to offer rituals of meaningful sacrifice within collective action, individuals may seek solitary forms of sacrifice that spiral into destruction. The energy of martyrdom must be redirected into practices that expand life rather than extinguish it.

Understanding these psychological currents prepares us for the strategic task ahead: constructing environments where agency is collective, spectacle is generative, and sacrifice builds rather than burns.

From Lone Hero to Collective Sovereignty

Political violence thrives on the myth of the lone hero. The individual stands against the system. They act decisively while others hesitate. This narrative is intoxicating because it simplifies history into a duel between one person and power.

Organizers must dismantle this myth not through moral scolding but through superior stories and practices.

Redefining Courage

In many communities, courage is associated with confrontation and physical risk. The assassin often frames their act as ultimate bravery. Yet collective courage is more demanding. It requires vulnerability, coordination, and sustained commitment.

The sit-ins of the early 1960s were acts of immense courage. Students faced beatings and arrest, yet their power emerged from disciplined collectivity. Each participant understood that their risk was amplified by thousands of others acting in concert. The spectacle exposed the violence of segregation rather than reproducing it.

When you design campaigns, ask yourself: where is the visible courage? Are participants taking risks that feel meaningful? If your actions are entirely safe and symbolic, they will not satisfy the hunger for agency. But if the risk is shared and strategic, it channels the desire for heroism into communal transformation.

Building Parallel Authority

Another antidote to the lone-hero myth is the creation of parallel institutions. When people experience decision-making power in their daily lives, the allure of destroying distant leaders diminishes.

Consider the example of the Québec casseroles during the 2012 student strike. Nightly pot-and-pan marches allowed ordinary residents to participate from their balconies and streets. The sound became a form of distributed sovereignty. It signaled that the community itself was a political actor. The movement did not depend on a single dramatic gesture. It diffused power block by block.

Parallel authority can take many forms: community assemblies, cooperative enterprises, mutual aid networks. The key is that they do not merely petition existing power. They enact alternatives. When you build a tenant council that can negotiate collectively, you are not asking permission. You are exercising sovereignty.

Violence often arises when people believe sovereignty is impossible. Prove otherwise through lived experiments.

Broadcasting a Believable Path to Victory

Movements falter when they cannot articulate how change will occur. If participants sense that protests are rituals without consequence, cynicism grows. In that vacuum, more extreme tactics appear logical.

Every campaign must embed a persuasive theory of change. Explain how a debt strike pressures creditors. Show how coordinated rent withholding shifts bargaining power. Map the steps from disruption to negotiation to concession. When people see the chain reaction, they are less tempted by shortcuts.

Collective sovereignty is not an abstract ideal. It is a sequence of actions that accumulate power. Make that sequence visible.

Community Practices That Transform Powerlessness

If political violence feeds on isolation and blocked agency, then prevention begins with designing community practices that reverse those conditions. These practices must be tangible. They must alter material life, not merely provide emotional catharsis.

Pop Up People’s Assemblies

Transform ordinary spaces into temporary forums of decision. A grocery store parking lot becomes a one-hour assembly. A park becomes a micro-parliament. The rule is simple: gather around a single concrete issue and leave with assigned roles and deadlines.

This practice accomplishes several things. It disrupts the routine geography of consumption. It trains participants in collective deliberation. It demonstrates that political agency does not reside exclusively in distant institutions.

The assembly should produce visible outcomes. A coordinated letter campaign delivered the next day. A delegation scheduled to meet a landlord. A public statement crafted and distributed. Each small win reinforces the belief that shared action matters.

Over time, these assemblies can evolve into more permanent councils. What begins as a ritual experiment can harden into durable sovereignty.

Public Ledger Debt Strikes

Debt is a private shame weaponized by financial institutions. Isolation intensifies despair. A public ledger debt strike reverses the logic. Participants voluntarily disclose medical or payday loan balances in a shared forum. The act of visibility transforms shame into solidarity.

Together, participants commit to withhold payments for a defined period while demanding renegotiation. The spectacle is not destructive. It is transparent and collective. Livestream negotiations. Document creditor responses. Frame the action as moral accounting.

This tactic reclaims agency over financial life. It also broadcasts a clear mechanism of change: coordinated nonpayment creates leverage. Participants experience direct structural impact. That lived experience is a powerful antidote to fantasies of violent disruption.

Citizen Audits and Tactical Occupations

Communities often live amid unused resources: vacant buildings, idle land, underutilized public spaces. A citizen audit involves collectively mapping these assets. Walk block by block. Document what lies dormant. Publish the findings.

The next step can be a tactical occupation of one site, repurposed as a clinic, art studio, or meeting hall. The occupation is framed as restorative rather than destructive. It reveals the absurdity of scarcity in the midst of abundance.

Historical precedents abound. From the occupation of factories in Argentina during economic collapse to land rights blockades such as the Oka Crisis, communities have asserted claims over space when formal channels failed. The lesson is not romanticization but strategic clarity. Occupation without a plan decays. Occupation paired with governance can seed new institutions.

When residents physically transform space, they experience sovereignty in their bodies. This embodied agency undercuts the narrative that only violence can shake the system.

Mutual Aid as Political Education

Mutual aid networks surged during crises such as the global pandemic. Groceries were delivered. Funds were raised. Care was distributed horizontally. At their best, these networks were not charity but laboratories of self-governance.

To prevent drift into apolitical service, mutual aid must include reflection. Hold debrief circles. Discuss why needs exist. Connect immediate care to structural critique. In this way, assistance becomes a gateway to organizing rather than a substitute for it.

When people both give and receive aid, they internalize interdependence. The lone-hero narrative weakens. Community becomes the protagonist.

Rituals of Decompression and Meaning

Moments of intense activism can generate emotional highs followed by crashes. Without rituals of decompression, participants may spiral into despair or radicalization. Movements must care for the psyche as carefully as they design tactics.

After major actions, gather for reflection. Name fears and frustrations. Celebrate small victories. Grieve losses. This is not softness. It is strategic maintenance. Psychological safety reduces the risk that individuals will seek extreme gestures to reclaim a sense of purpose.

In short, community practices must integrate action, reflection, and visible wins. Agency is not preached. It is rehearsed.

Integrating the Four Lenses: A Holistic Prevention Strategy

Most contemporary movements default to voluntarism. They believe that if enough people show up and escalate, change will follow. When numbers wane, despair grows. Some individuals then search for more dramatic tactics.

To prevent this cycle, integrate multiple lenses of change.

Voluntarism with Structural Awareness

Mass action matters. But it must be timed. Structural conditions such as economic crisis, war fatigue, or legitimacy collapse create openings. Study indicators. Build networks during lulls. Strike when contradictions peak.

If participants understand that timing shapes outcomes, they are less likely to interpret temporary setbacks as proof of futility. Structural awareness tempers impatience.

Subjective Shifts and Narrative Power

Violence often emerges from narratives of humiliation and betrayal. Counter these stories with compelling myths of collective rebirth. Art, music, and meme culture can shift emotional climates. The slogan Silence equals Death during the AIDS crisis reframed passivity as complicity and galvanized action without endorsing violence.

Consciousness matters. When people feel seen and dignified within a movement, they are less susceptible to extremist narratives that promise restored honor through bloodshed.

Theurgic and Spiritual Dimensions

Do not dismiss the spiritual hunger that sometimes animates violent actors. They seek transcendence. Movements can offer sacred experiences without violence. Ceremonial occupations of land, collective fasts, or synchronized moments of silence can generate profound solidarity.

Standing Rock demonstrated how spiritual practice fused with strategic blockade. Prayer camps were not escapism. They were sources of resilience and legitimacy. When activism honors the sacred without weaponizing it, it channels intensity into preservation rather than annihilation.

A holistic strategy recognizes that preventing political violence is not merely about security. It is about meaning.

Putting Theory Into Practice

To transform powerlessness into shared agency and reduce the appeal of political violence, implement the following steps:

• Establish recurring micro-assemblies in accessible public spaces. Focus each gathering on one solvable issue. Produce concrete tasks and track outcomes publicly.

• Design a visible collective risk action such as a coordinated rent strike, workplace slowdown, or debt refusal with clear legal briefings and support structures. Ensure participants understand the pathway from disruption to negotiation.

• Launch a community asset audit that maps vacant properties, unused funds, or institutional surpluses. Publish findings and develop a plan for reclaiming or repurposing at least one site.

• Integrate mutual aid with political education by pairing service activities with structured reflection sessions that connect immediate needs to systemic change.

• Create rituals of decompression and storytelling after major actions. Document lessons, celebrate courage, and articulate next steps to prevent emotional whiplash.

Each step is a rehearsal of sovereignty. The aim is not perfection but momentum. Small victories accumulate into durable confidence.

Conclusion

Political violence is often the tragic offspring of isolation and blocked imagination. When individuals believe that collective avenues are exhausted, they may turn to solitary spectacle. They mistake destruction for agency.

Your task as an organizer is not only to oppose violence but to render it unnecessary. Build spaces where courage is shared, where sacrifice exposes injustice rather than reproducing it, and where sovereignty is practiced in everyday life. Design campaigns that make the path to victory visible and believable. Care for the emotional terrain as carefully as you map the structural one.

History shows that movements capable of integrating action, timing, narrative, and meaning are more resilient than those relying on shock alone. The ultimate prevention strategy is not surveillance or repression. It is the cultivation of collective power so tangible that the myth of the lone avenger dissolves.

When people taste real agency, even in small doses, they begin to understand that transformation is not a bullet fired in isolation but a chemistry of shared will. What experiment in collective sovereignty will you initiate this season to prove that violence is obsolete?