Seventy years ago, four African Americans sat in the fifth row of a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. When a white passenger was forced to stand, the bus driver instructed the four individuals to move to the back. Three complied; one did not. This pivotal moment is often simplified in American classrooms as the story of Rosa Parks, yet it embodies not just courage but also a critical act of civil disobedience.

Today, as discussions around government policy and election reform intensify, we must consider what civil disobedience means in a climate where the federal government seems ready to punish dissent, even when it is legal. The narrative surrounding Parks often neglects the broader context of her activism. She was not merely a tired seamstress who spontaneously decided to protest. Parks had been a dedicated member of the NAACP in Montgomery since 1943, leading youth initiatives and investigating crimes against African American women.

Former President Barack Obama emphasized that ordinary citizens can challenge the imperfections of our nation and pursue change. While Parks did not possess wealth or status, she had an extensive network of fellow activists who strengthened her resolve. The successful Montgomery Bus Boycott, lasting an astonishing 381 days, exemplified this collective effort, bolstered by effective political strategy and grassroots organization.

Yet, the portrayal of the civil rights movement often overlooks the significant opposition it faced. Many Americans at the time viewed nonviolent protests as controversial rather than commendable. Current narratives sometimes simplify history, creating a false consensus around “color-blindness,” while misrepresenting the complexities of civic engagement during that period.

Political theorist John Rawls defined civil disobedience as a “public, nonviolent, conscientious yet political act.” However, implementing this idea has become increasingly complicated. Rawls believed that breaking the law to highlight injustice could motivate majorities to enact change. In his time, widespread media coverage allowed the public to witness injustices, such as the brutal crackdowns on civil rights protesters. Although today’s social media can elevate issues like police brutality, the fragmented media landscape can distort narratives and obscure meanings—a challenge that today’s activists like Black Lives Matter must navigate.

Moreover, Rawls suggested that those who engage in civil disobedience ought to be prepared to accept punishment as a reflection of their commitment to justice. This raises critical questions in the contemporary landscape: Is the United States “almost just”? Recent actions by the current administration indicate a troubling erosion of the rule of law and an inclination to retaliate against dissenters.

The Attorney General appears beholden to the executive branch, prioritizing retribution over justice. Reports from within the Department of Justice reveal that cases are increasingly constructed to fit predetermined narratives rather than emerging from factual investigations. While some judges push back against this trend, the institutional damage is already considerable.

Rawls viewed civil disobedience as a form of “public speech,” and today it is uncertain whether this speech will resonate. In a system where dissent—both legitimate and legal—is under attack, many potential advocates for civil disobedience are left to navigate a more complex, repressive landscape than that faced by Parks and her contemporaries. As current political campaigns unfold, those considering civil disobedience must prepare for challenges that extend beyond mere legal repercussions.