When Power hurts, We call it Order. When People resist, We call it Violence.
We say we hate violence but mostly when it's not institutional. When it's in the streets, not in suits.
Is the violence of a people defending itself the same as the violence of a state that crushes?
Lately, it’s been impossible to escape the word: violence.
“A person died violently.”
“X made violent comments.”
“A finance minister was put in a violent situation.”
Safe to say, it’s been a busy week.
From the death of Charlie Kirk that sparked reactions in the U.S., to protests in Nepal, Poland invoking Article 4 of NATO, violence in the Congo, Israel bombing Qatar, people sleeping outside despite having jobs, bombed maternity wards… it’s dizzying.
Because “violence” is a loaded word. It doesn’t mean the same thing depending on who’s saying it or from where it’s being observed. And that’s exactly what I want to unpack:
What do we call violence? Why are some forms of violence seen as more legitimate than others? And more importantly who can justify it without anyone raising an eyebrow?
Quick Glossary
A few useful concepts:
Violence: Physical, verbal, or symbolic action that causes suffering, coercion, or harm to the integrity of a person or group.
Power: The ability to impose one’s will, influence, or control often tied to access to resources and status.
Legitimacy: The perception that an action or institution is justified and acceptable.
Police violence: Disproportionate or abusive use of force by state agents often against individuals or groups who do not pose a real threat. This includes verbal abuse, physical assaults, and even killings.
Structural violence (Johan Galtung): When economic, social, or political systems create poverty, exclusion, or inequality without needing a single baton strike.
Violence Doesn’t Exist in a Vacuum
It is always judged based on who commits it and who it targets.
When the state or police act, we hear phrases like “public order,” or “peacekeeping.”
But when protesters defend themselves or express their anger, the words change: “riots,” “vandalism,” “senseless violence.”
The paradox is glaring:
What’s considered necessary and “normal” on one side is instantly seen as illegitimate on the other.
When the State Strikes… and Justifies It
A state can raise taxes, cut education funding, or impose painful reforms.
These decisions are considered “legitimate” because they fall under its authority.
But for the people who suffer the consequences, that’s violence.
The difference?
The state doesn’t just have the power to act—it also has the power to legitimize its own violence.
Historical example:
Colonial laws imposed by European empires were presented as “civilizing.”
For the colonized, they meant exploitation, dispossession, and humiliation.
Power and Asymmetry
Power is the key.
The state holds the monopoly on “legitimate” violence (hello, Max Weber <3).
It has the weapons, the institutions, and the media narrative on its side.
The result?
A protester throwing a stone is criminalized.
Meanwhile, 100 police officers charging with batons and tear gas are described as “restoring order.”
The power dynamic is entirely asymmetrical:
Weapons, protection, moral legitimacy.
On the other side: unarmed, vulnerable citizens, often silenced.
“Look—we have the law, we have the weapons, we have the right.”
Here, the display of power becomes a form of humiliation.
That’s what Pierre Bourdieu called symbolic power: the added authority that transforms force into something seen as “normal.”
And What About the People?
The population also protests sometimes angrily, sometimes violently.
They respond to what they experience as aggression: inequality, repression, precarity.
You could say this kind of violence is legitimate, because it comes from self-defense.
But the violence of the people is less legitimized and often used against them, especially through laws that protect institutions more than individuals.
The outcome:
The violence of the people becomes “illegal,”
While the violence of the state remains “justifiable.”
Plot Twist: Violence, Brutality & Necessity
Maybe we need to distinguish between violence and brutality.
Violence? We all engage in it, to some extent.
Even yelling at your cat after it knocks over your coffee.
Examples:
Shouting at someone,
Punching a pillow in anger,
Throwing a stone at a protest.
It may cause harm, but it’s not necessarily meant to crush the other.
Brutality, on the other hand, is different—
It aims to crush, humiliate, dehumanize.
And it’s often exercised by institutional power that feels entitled to do anything.
Examples:
A police officer beating an unarmed protester,
A boss publicly humiliating an employee,
Austerity policies that leave families on the streets.
In these cases, the goal is to assert dominance and punish.
Sound familiar? Feels like history repeating itself...
So… Does Violence Really Exist?
I’d say yes.
But its existence depends on who defines it, who commits it, and who has the means to justify it.
And that leaves us with the hardest question:
Is Violence Ever Necessary?
Many social struggles would have never succeeded without confrontation.
The right to strike, decolonization movements, civil rights…
All of these involved some form of rupture—some form of resistance.
And every generation asks the same question:
How far is too far?
Maybe the real question isn’t
“Should we be violent?”
(because let’s be real—everyone is, at some point)
But rather:
“Who has the luxury of condemning violence?”
Because those who don’t experience oppression every day
can preach non-violence more easily
than those whose only voice is the street.
We’re constantly told:
“You can’t fight evil with evil.”
“Violence doesn’t solve anything.”
“We need to negotiate.”
“Smashing, yelling—that won’t help.”
Every time I hear that, I wonder:
How many things in this world have ever changed peacefully, with smiles and laughter?
Even giving birth is a violent act contractions, screaming, blood.