Editor’s Note: Ruth Ben-Ghiat (@ruthbenghiat), a frequent contributor to CNN Opinion, is professor of history at New York University and the author of “Strongmen: From Mussolini to the Present.” The views expressed here are her own. Read more opinion on CNN.
For many Americans this week, myself included, the traumatizing videos the House managers presented during the impeachment trial elicited a visceral response. Rarely has the American public experienced such a compelling example of the power of images and sound to communicate in ways that written texts cannot. That wrenching emotional punch needed to land with us. It’s a reminder that unless we hold leaders like former President Donald Trump accountable for their dangerous and manipulative uses of misinformation, they will be free – or worse, emboldened – to repeat such actions in the future.
The history of strongmen rule bears that out. Looked at through the lens of the history of authoritarian leadership, January 6 could be viewed as a trial run, as failed coups often precede successful ones, as in Chile in 1973. “That’s what we f**king need to have, 30,000 guns up here,” said one man in the crowd, depicted in the video shown on the first day of proceedings, frustrated that the group was not entering the Capitol more rapidly. “Next trip,” someone answered him.
The videos we saw and heard from the House managers this week were an unequivocal statement: We must not let this happen again. The video montages presented by the former President’s defense told quite another story, one that revolved around the attempt to paint Democrats, especially Democratic women, as bloodthirsty revolutionaries who victimized Trump throughout his presidency.
First, let’s take the footage the Democratic impeachment managers showed to the nation and the world over three days. It had a legal rationale. It is an integral part of the evidence presented to argue that former President Trump incited the violence by his followers on January 6, an intentional disruption of the counting of Electoral College votes. The ultimate goal: subverting the election results and maintaining himself in office by illegal means. As Rep. Ted Lieu succinctly stated, “President Trump ran out of non-violent options to remain in power.”
The 13-minute video montage of the coup attempt presented by Rep. Jamie Raskin on Monday made its argument calmly. Sober black and white graphics punctuate the flow of images, silently narrating the progression of events from Trump’s speech at the rally to the breach of the Capitol.
Yet, so many who saw it were taken aback at the strong emotions it evoked. Some viewers had chills from the sight of their lawmakers fleeing for their lives as the insurrectionists stormed the Capitol building, some avoiding, one can easily imagine, a terrible fate by just a few minutes. Others reacted to the terrifying audio, comparing the “grisly, grunting, intimate violence” to a horror movie. “How horrible, my heart hurts,” wrote one person on Twitter, speaking for millions.
Sound, in particular, has the ability to engender strong sentiments and visceral reactions – especially the sound of the human voice. Think of the frightening sound of the thug who wandered the halls looking for Nancy Pelosi, shouting “Nancy, where are you?” Or the audio played on the second day of the proceedings of a Pelosi aide whispering into a phone, “they’re pounding on the door trying to find her,” the emotion in the aide’s voice resonant. Or the desperation in the voices of the overwhelmed Capitol Police.
Like all good persuasive films, this one gets its dramatic tension through contrasts. The juxtaposition of silences and quietness of the Chamber – the heart of the operation of the rule of law in a democratic system – with the terrifying chaotic sounds of a mob that wants to break that system made an impact.
My heart broke for our democracy as I took in the contrasts between the decorum that accompanied the proceedings in the Chamber and the auditory anarchy outside from individuals who intend to “fight for Trump!” and “take the Capitol” for him and him alone. I won’t soon forget the sight of Trump’s primary enabler for years, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, standing in the quiet, saying “we’re debating a step that has never been taken in American history,” as the mob, closing in, broke glass, hooted, chanted and assaulted police officers.
I have long warned that Trump is an authoritarian who poses a threat to the survival of our democracy, and was not surprised that he resorted to inciting violence as part of his attempts to remain in power. But at that moment, while I watched and listened, particularly to Trump’s speech to the rally crowd that preceded its march to the Capitol, the terrifying truth of Trump’s oneness with that mob, and his absolute scorn for the protocols and procedures of democracy became even more real.
The footage provides convincing documentation of Trump’s incitement. The inclusion in the first day’s film of his inflammatory tweets against former Vice President Mike Pence while the assault was in progress, with insurgents hunting for Pence inside the Capitol – and with the threat of an actual hanging made real by the gallows that had been erected just outside – was highly damning. It highlights Trump’s skill at weaponizing Twitter, which he has done for years to disseminate authoritarian-style propaganda – including threats against an ever-widening circle of enemies.
The video presented by the defense on Friday had no story arc or sense of chronology: narrative was not its point. But one 11-minute sequence showed a mastery of one principle of propaganda – repetition – and an understanding of how to weaponize language and sound. “We need to show you some of their own words,” the defense stated, but one word dominated: fight.
To relativize Trump’s history of incitement of violence, the defense presented a montage of Democratic politicians, women in particular, talking about fighting, without any context for their words. The word fight or fought is uttered almost two hundred times in the clips, with the rapid-fire editing in individual sequences featuring Elizabeth Warren or Kamala Harris so forced as to seem cartoonish.
Overall, the video footage of the defense pursued the Trumpian method in litigation and life: be relentless to wear down the adversary’s defenses, leaving them exhausted.
GOP Senators are unlikely to vote to convict Trump. Tellingly, some key senators who have supported the blatant lies undergirding the violent assault, like Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley, did not attend the Democrats’ final presentation of their case.
Yet there was another, far larger, audience for this filmed body of evidence: the American people. These images provide a foundation for public memory about January 6, starkly countering the GOP’s attempt to minimize the violence, even that directed at its own leadership. Former Vice President Pence, for example, has been conspicuously silent about his experience.
They also issue a clear warning, one reiterated by the Democrat impeachment managers: if Trump is not convicted, he will feel empowered, increasing the chances that he will return to finish the job of wrecking our democracy.