This Protest Violated 8 Rules for Saving Democracy
There's a fragile line between resistance and repression. Do you know the difference?
Earlier this month, comedian and occasional journalist
was harassed at a May Day protest in New York City for asking questions. Masked organizers in yellow vests followed him closely, pointing arrow-shaped signs at him that read “Right Wing Troll.” Wherever he turned, the signs followed. Eventually, they pushed him off the protest grounds entirely.Kawaller wrote about the encounter in an article for
’s Substack, Racket News. You can watch his short video of what happened above. It’s worth seeing it for yourself before reading on.Watching the video, I felt a wave of sadness and concern, not because a right-wing troll had crashed a progressive protest, but because no such troll was there. What I saw wasn’t an outsider undermining a protest, but insiders undermining themselves.
For those of us committed to defending democracy, this moment holds a painful lesson: in our desire to protect democratic values, we can inadvertently betray them. And if we don’t recognize when we cross that line, we risk becoming the very thing we’re fighting against.
When I published 10 Steps for Saving Democracy earlier this year, I argued that resisting authoritarianism isn’t just about opposing bad policies or bad leaders—it’s about practicing democracy every day, in every interaction. Each step I outlined was designed to cultivate the habits and skills that keep democratic culture alive: staying calm, resisting division, building trust, setting a good example, and more. You can read the original essay here:
10 Steps for Saving Democracy
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” —James Baldwin
That’s why what happened at the May Day protest was so troubling. In a well-intentioned effort to protect their protest from infiltration, the organizers abandoned the democratic principles they were fighting for. Their actions violated eight of the ten steps I laid out—and in doing so, they told a story not of resistance, but of repression.
Let’s walk through each step to understand how and why it matters.
Step 1: Stay Calm
Effective resistance begins with emotional regulation. In 10 Steps for Saving Democracy, I wrote: “To resist effectively, we must learn to regulate our emotions in the face of endless provocations.” Calmness isn’t a luxury—it’s a prerequisite for strategic thought and action.
But watching the organizers scramble after a single questioner—signs raised high, masks on, scanning nervously for cameras—didn’t look calm. It looked frantic.
You can hear it in the video: one organizer shouts, “Don’t talk to him! He’s a troll!” The urgency in her voice wasn’t reassuring; it was panicked. And panic spreads. Instead of modeling calm resolve, they modeled fear. Instead of inspiring confidence, they broadcasted alarm.
When fear takes over, it clouds our judgment, narrows our options, and leads us to act in ways that undermine our goals. Democracy isn’t defended by frantic silencing. It’s defended by calm engagement with our fellow citizens.
Step 2: Resist Division
Authoritarians thrive on division. They pit neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, relative against relative, until solidarity collapses. To resist authoritarianism, we have to do the opposite: build bridges across our differences, even with those who disagree with us.
The organizers didn’t build bridges at this protest—they built barriers. By labeling a neutral questioner a “right-wing troll” and warning others away, they deepened suspicion and reinforced an “us vs. them” dynamic.
The signs didn’t just push the journalist away, but pushed away anyone who might have been willing to engage, answer questions, or explain the cause. Listen closely and you can hear one protester say, “I don’t think he’s right-wing,” as she’s warned off. Instead of creating opportunities for connection, they sowed distrust and division.
Step 3: Set a Good Example
Democracy depends on norms, such as transparency, accountability, respect for dissent, and more. We can’t defend those values while violating them ourselves.
The masked organizers holding “Right Wing Troll” signs weren’t setting a democratic example. They mirrored the very tactics we condemn in authoritarians: concealed identities, intolerance of dissent, and control.
Imagine if MAGA supporters chased journalists from a rally holding “FAKE NEWS” signs. We’d call it intimidation. We’d call it censorship. We also condemn Proud Boys and ICE agents for wearing masks as symbols of secrecy and unaccountable power. So why are we copying them?
When we hide our faces and silence questioners, we aren’t setting a good example—we’re modeling the opposite.
Step 4: Build Trust
Trust is the invisible foundation of democracy. Without it, everything else crumbles. Unlike control, trust can’t be forced, but must be given freely to grow.
By labeling Kawaller a “troll” without evidence and warning others not to engage, the organizers revealed a deeper fear: not just of outsiders, but of their own people. They didn’t trust fellow protesters to handle a few basic questions—or to represent the movement honestly without oversight.
In the video, one organizer says, “We can’t let him get soundbites.” That line says it all. They weren’t just worried about being misquoted. They were worried about what their own side might say.
But trust grows when we allow people to speak freely, authentically, and without fear. Shutting down conversation doesn’t build trust. It erodes it.
Step 5: Discuss Politics
A protest isn’t just an expression of outrage—it’s a public conversation. Every sign, chant, and interaction sends a message to the broader public, including those watching from the sidelines. Protests are our chance to explain, persuade, and inspire.
But at this protest, organizers shut that conversation down. When Kawaller asked, “I just want to understand—why are you here?” no one answered. Instead, they stepped between him and other protesters to block the interaction.
In 10 Steps, I warned: “Few things are more damaging to democracy than avoiding political conversations.” Refusing to answer a simple question isn’t just bad optics, it’s a missed opportunity. It undermines the very purpose of showing up in public.
If we don’t tell our own story, someone else will, and chances are, they won’t tell the story we want the world to hear.
Step 6: Communicate Persuasively
Effective protest is persuasive protest. That doesn’t mean silencing dissent. It means meeting people where they are and helping them see things differently.
The journalist wasn’t hostile. He wasn’t trolling. He was asking reasonable questions. By labeling him a troll and driving him away, the organizers forfeited an opportunity to speak to his audience, the many viewers who might have watched his video and learned something new.
In 10 Steps, I emphasized: "Effective persuasion isn’t about delivering the strongest arguments; it’s about helping the other person feel safe enough to lower their defenses." Nothing about this incident lowered defenses. Everything about it raised them.
Step 9: Act Strategically
Every protest tactic tells a story. The question is: Is it the story we want the world to hear?
Driving out a questioner under a banner of silencing signs didn’t tell a story of courage, justice, or democracy. It told a story of fear, defensiveness, and control.
This wasn’t a winning strategy. It was a self-sabotaging one. Instead of showcasing the movement’s message, it handed critics a ready-made narrative: that we fear scrutiny, that we can’t defend our ideas in public, that we’re intolerant of inquiry.
I contacted 50501 for comment, but they did not respond prior to publication. Whether this tactic was officially sanctioned or a rogue action, the damage was done.
When we choose our tactics poorly, even well-intentioned efforts can backfire. This one did—spectacularly.
Step 10: Be a Hero
Heroism isn’t just about grand gestures or dramatic defiance. In a democracy, heroism often means moral courage: the willingness to stand for principle, even when it’s hard.
Many people wear masks at protests for medical reasons, but increasingly we’re seeing people wearing masks out of fear. Fear of surveillance, doxxing, retaliation, and even deportation. Those fears are real. But heroism is facing those risks with courage, not hiding from them.
While I can’t say for sure why people at this protest covered their faces, if they are doing it for nonmedical reasons it’s a mistake. Heroism isn’t covering your face while silencing a questioner. Heroism is showing up, face uncovered, willing to be known. It’s answering questions, even from hostile individuals, because you believe your cause is just.
If we aren’t willing to advocate openly for democracy, how can we expect others to do the same?
As I wrote in 10 Steps: “True heroism lies in refusing to yield—standing firm in your values, even when it seems nothing can be done and everyone else has given in.”
The Story We’re Telling the World
Every protest tells a story. And at least part of the New York May Day protest story was about intolerance, intimidation, and repression—not by the Trump Administration, but by liberal activists. That’s the exact opposite of the story we must tell.
Fortunately, it appears this tactic hasn’t spread yet. But protest strategies are often imitated. Going forward, we must eliminate anti-democratic tactics within our ranks before they become normalized.
Let’s ensure that the next time someone holds up a sign at a protest, it’s an invitation, not a warning. Let’s tell a story that makes every American feel welcome.
This article is part of The Smart Politics Way, a progressive newsletter about defending democracy through persuasive engagement. Dr. Karin Tamerius is a political psychiatrist and founder of Smart Politics.
If you found this piece valuable, please share it with your activist networks, discuss it in your organizing circles, and help create protests that uphold the democratic values we’re fighting for.
Want to learn more about how to defend democracy—without losing your cool, your values, or your relationships? Subscribe to The Smart Politics Way for insights, tools, and strategies you won’t find anywhere else.
I’d love to hear from you: Have you ever witnessed—or participated in—a protest where the tactics felt at odds with democratic values? How can we balance protecting movements with staying open to dialogue?
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After years of following and sharing your writing, this is the first time I've felt that your analysis was a bit reductive and short-sighted. The element that most concerns me is your conveyed attitude and assumptions about masking.
Framing the wearing of masks in public gatherings as a lack of courage and a moral failure is a very strong assertion about the character and motives of quite a lot of people. You mention that "some" organizers wear masks for the reasons that you denounce as un-heroic, but you omitted that other organizers may have very valid reasons to mask. You also gave zero reasons to not mask, nor any basis for your statements about the inherent morality of face exposure. You may have written about the persuasive potential of a visible face at other times, but not supporting those statements here makes the post unsharable for me.
It feels like the wearing of masks was excessively centered here. You describe the organizers as masked, when the person being interviewed didn't have a mask on, and several other organizers didn't have masks on. And again, the focus on masks seems off-message. If the people who followed him while holding signs and not answering questions had not been masking, would it not have been harassment?
What concerns me most here is that you exclusively represented the wearing of surgical masks as tools to hide one's identity. At no point did you even acknowledge that the masks being worn were PPE, and not a bandana tied over their faces like a cartoon bandit. Equating all masks with an intent to hide, as if there is no valid or honest purpose for covering your face, is a pre-judgement that is deeply alienating and downright harmful to people like me.
Perhaps you meant to acknowledge that ill, immunocompromised and religious organizers would have very valid reasons to cover their face, but forgot to include that. It would have been worth stating that those people exist, that it's good for us to have our faces covered, and that we deserve to be in public spaces, and even included in protests. Perhaps you meant to acknowledge that protecting yourself against Covid when you're spending the day surrounded by densely packed crowds is a very reasonable thing for anyone to do.
Not acknowledging those realities perpetuates the prejudice that we have to deal with. People with medical and religious reasons to cover our faces exist, and we don't have to give up our faith or our health to be heroic. Please don't spread negative attitudes or encourage pre-judgement based on the things we have to wear.
Brilliant analysis, Karin!