IN ONE OF the worst mass shootings in modern U.S. history, Omar Mateen killed or injured more than one hundred people in a popular gay night club in Orlando, Florida, in a hateful terrorist act on June 12, 2016. Furor ignited when Donald Trump, then the presumptive Republican presidential nominee, tweeted hours after the tragedy, âAppreciate the congrats for being right on radical Islamic terrorism. . . .â Democrats reacted on Capitol Hill, shouting âPass the Billâ over a stalled vote for a proposed âno-fly, no-buyâ law to prevent suspected terrorists from purchasing guns. Some Democratic leaders walked off the floor as Republican Speaker of the House Paul Ryan called for a moment of silence in memory of the victims and then launched an unprecedented fourteen-hour Senate floor filibuster to force a vote on tighter gun laws for suspected terrorists. The NRA countered that radical Islamic terrorists would not be deterred by gun control laws, and its supporters protested any infringement on Second Amendment freedoms. Meanwhile, thousands of the surviving victims and family members and friends joined with LGBT rights activists and gun control advocates to hold candlelight vigils, mount protests, and stage âdie-insââone outside NRA headquarters in Virginia. The entire spectacle was covered 24/7 by cable news and other media, with many reporters reminding viewers the vast majority of Americans favor âcommon senseâ gun measures.
And then, not much changed.
Drive about a hundred miles south of Washington, D.C., to Charlottesville, Virginia, to understand why. There, a more muted scene unfolded during that same summer month of June 2016: A few days after the mass shooting in Orlando, the Charlottesville City Council met and discussed a resolution asking state and federal lawmakers for stricter gun laws. The resolution passed 4 to 0. Despite the unanimous vote, the majority of local residents attending the meeting objected. âMy hope for tonight is that the Charlottesville City Council, in all itâs [sic] wisdom, decides to forget about this whole thing,â said Albert Shank, an Army veteran and Charlottesville resident. âAnd they let us go on to continue to observe our rights, and obey the Second Amendment.â2 The council members didnât actually have any legal power over gun rights, and their vote was merely a âcall to actionâ due to the Virginia state preemption laws, which prevented local jurisdictions from enacting gun laws that were stricter than what the state had already ruled.3 The Charlottesville City Councilâand every other local council in the state of Virginiaâwas rendered impotent on imposing any kind of further firearm restriction.
The situation in Charlottesville mirrors that of the vast majority of communities across the country. At the local level, even when the most seemingly innocuous resolution is up for consideration by city councils, NRA members and gun rights supporters mobilize to express their views and defend Second Amendment rights. They show up, they speak up, they voteâand dutifully persuade family members, neighbors, and friends to do the same. The NRA projects a visible, palpable presence at statehouses, council chambers, and courtrooms across the country whenever a piece of legislation or law related to guns is up for consideration. Itâs the dutiful activism of citizens like Albert Shankâand hundreds of thousands of others like him across the countryâthat shore up the phenomenal legislative and electoral victories of the NRA.
The NRAâs grassroots organizing strategy is the single most important reason why the movement has been so successful in defending and expanding the rights of gun owners in the United States. Its grassroots membership is far more important than the financial support the NRA receives from gun manufacturers, which historically have provided only a minor percentage of the budget.4 And itâs the fundamental reason why even the most unorthodox NRA policy proposals are enacted. The gun rights movementâs grassroots army is the reason why, despite the waves of angry anti-gun protests, heartbreaking vigils, and pleading calls for reform that erupt after each tragic mass shootingâfrom Columbine to Sandy Hook, Orlando to Las Vegasâgun violence prevention groups still largely lose ground. On the surface, itâs baffling, because the vast majority of Americans support âcommon senseâ gun policies such as universal background checks, including Democrats and Republicans, gun owners as well as non-owners.5 Given the widespread public support of measures like these, it would seem gun safety advocates should be winning handily. But except in a handful of progressive states, they donât. The main reason for their defeat nationally is that gun control advocates historically failed to match the scale and intensity of the NRAâs grassroots-fueled movement.
Leading from the Grassroots
As we examined a range of social and environmental movements surging since the 1980s, it became irrefutably clear that those with strong and robust grassrootsâmeasured by both size and intensity of the baseâwin. It is the single most important factor in the NRAâs success since the group first politicized in the mid-1970s and then intensified its grassroots organizing efforts starting in the 1990s. And in almost every other winning modern societal change we studied, grassroots activism played the key role.
The war to secure marriage rights for same-sex couples was waged at local and state ballot boxes, coordinated in large part by Freedom to Marry campaign leaders who successfully galvanized memberships of major national LGBT groups like Lambda Legal, GLAD, and NCLR, and hundreds of state and local groups, forging coalitions to galvanize grassroots action. Likewise, the antiâdrunk driving movement was almost entirely predicated on chapter-based strategies of Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD), RID, and others to mobilize survivors and victimsâ families and friends. The modern tobacco control movement was sparked by grassroots activists who rallied in the 1970s to pass the first community bans in Arizona and Minnesota.6
California soon followed suit, and with the 1976 launch of Americans for Nonsmokersâ Rights (ANR) by a group of Berkeley-based advocates, ANR (formerly Californians for Nonsmokersâ Rights) expanded the grassroots charge against the tobacco industry to protect non-smokers from secondhand smoke. The tobacco control movement accelerated again with the 1995 launch of the Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids (the Campaign). A national organization created to provide technical support and critically needed resources to state-based grassroots coalitions, the Campaign also mounted national media and public norm change campaigns and provided a powerful counterweight to the influential tobacco industry lobby at the federal level.
Even the global polio eradication movement credits its success in large part to Rotary Internationalâs grassroots membership, which puts more than a million boots on the ground through its thirty thousand chapters as Rotarians marshal the social and political will to fight polio in each country where the disease remainsâeliminating it in 99.9 percent of the world to date.
Conversely, the causes that are faltering in the early 21st century can attribute their struggles in some part to weak or uneven grassroots efforts. One example is gun violence prevention. Prior to when Everytown for Gun Safety formed in 2014, for nearly forty years, two main groups had dominated the gun control agenda: the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence and the Coalition to Stop Gun Violence. The Brady Campaign was founded in 1974 (named National Council to Control Handguns, and later re-named Handgun Control, Inc., from 1980 to 2000). The Brady Campaign quickly became the wealthiest and most politically important gun control group in Americaââthe de facto chief.â7 The Coalition to Stop Gun Violence represented a consortium of womenâs, civic, labor, and religious associations; both organizations advocated for national legislation to prohibit gun use and ownership among the general public. What was missing, however, was a robust sustained movement of individual activists and local groups pushing for gun control from the grassroots up. As Kristin Goss noted in Disarmed: ...