BY: Robert Jowaiszas
In moments of national tension, many modern protest movements invoke the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. as a moral shield. If a protest is labeled “peaceful,” the argument goes, it automatically fits within King’s tradition. But that interpretation misreads both the man and the movement he led.
Dr. King did not define nonviolence simply as the absence of guns or fists. He defined it as discipline, restraint, moral clarity, and respect for human dignity — including the dignity of opponents. By those standards, much of what now passes for protest would leave him deeply disappointed.
The protests that followed the death of George Floyd in 2020 began with legitimate outrage and widespread peaceful demonstrations. But in Minneapolis and other cities, they also devolved — in part
— into rioting, arson, attacks on law enforcement, and the burning of neighborhoods. More recently, Minnesota’s anti-ICE protests have followed a troublingly similar trajectory, escalating into confrontations, property damage, and clashes with police.
Dr. King was unequivocal on this point. He warned that riots are socially destructive and self-defeating. He believed violence, no matter how understandable the anger behind it, buries the moral message and devastates the very communities already suffering most.
Equally troubling is the language that has accompanied recent protests. In Minnesota, protesters — and at times public officials — have been recorded using terms such as “Nazis” and “Gestapo” to describe federal immigration agents. These words carry the weight of genocide and totalitarianism. King rejected such dehumanizing rhetoric, believing it stripped movements of moral authority and hardened division rather than persuasion.
There is also a structural shift that would likely trouble King. Many modern protests are not organic expressions of individual conscience. Groups such as Indivisible and its local chapters, including Indivisible Rockland and Indivisible Westchester, operate through a coordinated national model that provides call scripts, talking points, and step-by-step instructions for confrontation and turnout.
This model is legal and common in modern advocacy, but it is not spontaneous. King organized marches, but he did not manufacture voices. Protesters were trained in discipline, not handed scripts to overwhelm civic forums.
Locally, this approach has had visible consequences. In all four County, town halls (Rockland, Westchester, Dutchess and Putnam) hosted by Congressman Mike Lawler have been widely reported as disruptive, with coordinated shouting and interruptions that prevented other constituents from participating. In Westchester County, activists have applied the same playbook to regular protests at targeted locations, including Tesla dealerships, raising community concerns about escalation and disruption.
These incidents include the removal of Emily Feiner from his Westchester Town Hall meeting, after she was asked not to disrupt the meeting and began attacking his staff members and refusing police and security requests to peacefully the event.
Another incident happened at the Rockland County Town Hall at Clarkstown South High School, when agitators, some who were reported to be part of Indivisible Rockland, booed the Pledge of Allegiance.
Dr. King believed protest should persuade, not dominate. He valued dialogue, even with adversaries. If he were alive today, he would ask whether today’s protests preserve dignity, expand democracy, and awaken conscience — or whether they silence others and inflame division.
This is not an argument against protest. It is an argument for standards. Communities have a right to demand justice, but they also have a right to question whether violence, dehumanizing language, and scripted disruption reflect the nonviolent legacy so often invoked.
Measured honestly against his words and his life, Dr. King would be disappointed — not because people are demanding justice, but because justice demanded without discipline ceases to be justice at all.