Walz was criticized for hyperbole after his remarks comparing Minneapolis to Fort Sumter. But what happens if tensions between state and federal forces do continue to increase, more protesters and ICE agents are injured and killed, and the security forces on each side clash directly with each other? A 2024 simulation run by the Center for Ethics and the Rule of Law at the University of Pennsylvania concluded that this is exactly how a civil conflict in America could start.
Any number of events could continue to escalate polarization, distrust, and political violence in America. But a full-blown secessionist crisis would require a leader or party to champion the cause of independence—someone to articulate an alternative future and rally a substantial portion of the population around that flag.
Thankfully, there are no prominent leaders, regional governments, or parties calling for secession today. Due in part to the centripetal pressures created by the American two-party system, there is no real opening for distinctly regional parties to arise—no equivalent to the Scottish National Party or the Parti Québécois. But there are potential secessionist tipping-point scenarios to watch for. Here are two that take off from the moment of a national election, neither of them pretty.
First, imagine a disputed presidential election in 2028 or 2032. American politics has continued to deteriorate, and each side has increasingly adopted a “win-by-any-means” approach, with prominent leaders warning of a stolen election since early in the campaign. Now, with all the votes counted, neither side is willing to follow the example of Al Gore and concede a painfully close contest. So both sides claim the presidency and denounce the other. For the first time in its history, the US is torn between two competing chief executives.
This bifurcation is accompanied by intense, cycling political violence. Amid growing clamor on the far right for a Red-State America and on the far left for a BlueExit, both presidents choose to declare martial law and demand that the military countermand the orders of their opponent. Months of deadlock finally drive both sides to attempt a brokered division of the country into two ideological main blocs—leading to further fractures and partition-like violence.
In the second scenario—a variation on the first—imagine that one of the 2028 presidential candidates is tied to a state or region that already has latent secessionist leanings, like Texas or California. Again, the election results are questionable, and the incumbent party refuses to relinquish the White House and turn over power.
This sense that democracy has failed has, in the past, served as a tipping point for prominent leaders in other countries to yield to local pressures and throw their weight behind a secessionist cause. A key moment for Catalonian independistas, for instance, came in 2012 when Artur Mas, the Catalan president, finally joined with secessionists over a constitutional crisis with Spain, galvanizing the movement from fringe to mainstream.
In an American scenario where, say, a disenchanted Gavin Newsom chooses secession and throws in with the California Independence Party after an ambiguous national election, the US government would face a crisis. It could permit a referendum for California independence, risking a likely cascade effect and potential dissolution. Or it could deny any attempts at secession and risk violence.
