It is not a good sign for US politics that an apparent second assassination attempt against the former president and current Republican nominee, Donald Trump, seems to be fading into the media’s background noise as a relatively minor story. In part, this might be because of the particulars of the incident at Trump’s Palm Beach golf club in Florida, not far from his resort home at Mar-a-Lago.
For one thing, the suspect never fired a shot, though he was armed with an AK-47-style assault rifle with the serial number scratched off; having hidden in the bushes on the golf course for an estimated 12 hours, apparently waiting for Trump to appear, the would-be shooter was apprehended by Secret Service agents, who shot at him and missed.
That makes this apparent second attempt somewhat less severe than the first, fewer than three months ago, at a Trump rally outside Pittsburgh, where a sniper on a nearby roof not only managed to fire shots at Trump, but was able to graze the former president’s ear.
This time, the former president was never in real danger; he was hundreds of yards away at the time, and the Secret Service said on Monday that the alleged gunman did not have Trump in his sights. The golf course seems to have been relatively empty at the time; there have been no reports of other players being endangered by the plot. Unlike at most of Trump’s public outings, there were no crowds – which means that fewer people were at risk. And unlike most of Trump’s public outings, there were also no cameras – which means that his campaign will have a harder time spinning the incident into pro-Trump propaganda.
In fact, no one seems to have been shot at all in Palm Beach. Though the Pittsburgh shooting injured several and claimed the life of one of Trump’s rally-goers, Corey Comperatore, a Butler county resident, in the Palm Beach shooting, not even the alleged assailant himself was harmed: though he fled the scene, he was captured later in a traffic stop as he headed north. That means he may well become one of those rare historical creatures: the would-be presidential assassin who lives long enough to stand trial. For that much, we can all breathe a sigh of relief: despite the gunshots that were fired and the powerful weapons that the suspect possessed, no one was hurt.
Another reason why the apparent second attempt on Trump’s life this cycle may not make much of a dent in the media ecosystem is because the suspect appears recognizably unstable, rendering the case one of the US’s de rigueur tragedies in which profound mental illness mixes with easy access to guns. It’s true that Ryan Wesley Routh, the alleged gunman, did seem to have some degree of political agenda: he appears, oddly enough, to be a partisan of the Ukraine war effort. But Ruth’s long, checkered past and odd personal statements make it seem unlikely that his political motives were coherent.
They were certainly not partisan. Routh voted for Trump in 2016 and has made public statements supporting other candidates since, seeming to mostly believe in a hawkish foreign policy. He has voiced support for Nikki Haley, for example; he seems to have hoped, during 2024’s abortive Republican primary, that she would run for vice-president on a ticket topped by the businessman Vivek Ramaswamy. His decades-long criminal record includes arrests for writing bad checks, a hit and run, resisting arrest, a concealed weapons violation and possession of a weapon of mass destruction – with that last charge, a felony, stemming from an incident in which he barricaded himself inside a house with an automatic weapon.
Perhaps not the most lucid political thinker, Routh nevertheless followed his passion to Ukraine in recent years, when he was interviewed by several news outlets reporting on a minor trend of Americans traveling to eastern Europe to fight against the Russian invasion. He told the New York Times back in 2022 about a cockamamie scheme he cooked up there, in which Afghans who had previously fought the Taliban would be transported, somehow at his own direction, to Ukraine, to join the anti-Russian cause. The Times reporter who interviewed Routh said that at the time that he thought the man seemed out of his depth. That might be an understatement.
Routh, then, does not appear to be a leftwing extremist or Democratic partisan, motivated by fear of what Trump would do to the country. He seems, rather, like an addled man, perhaps not entirely in possession of his own mind, with a penchant for violence and persistent fantasies of Rambo-like military heroism. Among the devices that the Secret Service discovered at the suspect’s hiding spot in the bushes at the Palm Beach golf course was a GoPro: whatever he imagined he was going to do there, it seems that he intended to stream it.
In another country, Routh’s thin political understandings and ardent delusions of grandeur would make him marginal, an outcast or perhaps someone seen as in need of help. In ours, he is a public danger. Despite being a felon, Routh was able to get himself a weapon of war; despite having been violent and dangerous to others in the past, he was still free, without any apparent restraints on his movement or psychiatric care. We are all very lucky that it wasn’t worse.
But living in the US, now, means taking a risk that the combination of a man’s grievance and insanity will collide with our dangerously lax gun laws in a way that will cost you your life. Immigrant Americans may be massacred in a Walmart by nativist scaremongers for having the temerity to come to this country. Black Americans may be gunned down in a grocery store by a white supremacist. Women may be slaughtered by husbands, boyfriends or exes who decide that their inability to control them is an insult that demands the sacrifice of their lives. These, too, are the product of our polarized, hateful and hierarchical culture, and yet these incidents do not get described as “political violence”. And yet our politics has become highly violent, and usually, the rich and famous are not its primary targets. Every American risks getting shot in public. Most of us do not get to face that risk with Secret Service protection.
Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist
