As I watched the Kennedy siblings close ranks against Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. because of his support for Donald Trump, it reminded me of the fragility of human bonds.

Over the past eight years, since Trump burst onto the political scene, I’ve witnessed the crumbling of so many relationships, including marriages and childhood friendships, based upon an absolute inability to deal with difference and dissent.

I know very few conservatives who have disowned liberal friends. The opposite is far more common.

On social media, I’ve had a number of followers share sad tales of their families broken up over politics. One mother grieved a son who cut off all communication on Memorial Day in 2020 after she said “all lives matter.” Another Trump supporter said they’re no longer allowed in their 89-year-old father’s house.

The overwhelming response agreed with me that the majority of the social and familial excommunications came from liberals canceling conservatives from their lives. But I did get a few examples of the opposite:

“That’s not true. My father disowned anyone who didn’t vote MAGA” and “Oh, the only people I know who have disowned family over beliefs have been conservatives, including my own father.”

Most people I’ve come across in this situation feel saddened but resigned to the fact they had sacrificed important relationships for deeply held principles. Very few if any said they’d silenced themselves to maintain the peace.

I tend to think that’s because when you’re attacked over your beliefs, as opposed to any direct offense or harm you might have caused the other person, you aren’t willing to modify your views to be accepted back into the fold.

Two reasons: First, you don’t feel the need to lie in order to reach a fabricated detente.

Second, and I believe this is the paramount reason, is that a person who would excise you from their lives like a tumor because you disagree with their political choices is not a person who ever really loved you in the first place.

It’s like that great philosopher Billy Joel once wrote: “Don’t go changing, to try and please me … I love you just the way you are.”

There are, of course, certain lines in the sand that are like the Rubicon: once crossed, the damage is irreparable.

They are all personal things, like cheating. Trust, once violated, is forever lost. That principle extends to betrayals of any kind, not just romantic.

But shunning someone because you don’t like their political views after a lifetime of friendship or kinship, especially if neither of you have met or are likely to meet that politician is the height of arrogance and intolerance.

I’ve been very fortunate never to have had anyone that I truly care about cut me off because of my politics.

There was that one high school classmate who blocked me on Facebook because I posted some nice things about Melania Trump, and I have actually lost some professional opportunities because of my outspoken criticism of abortion, but most of the people I have chosen to include in my inner circle have open hearts and open minds.

Which brings me back to Bobby Kennedy.

The thing that really angered me the most about his family’s very open, very vocal betrayal is the idea that they have a patent on their late father’s character.

Each one of them, including sister Kerry, who has made the rounds on every TV station that hates Donald Trump, has somehow floated the idea that they are the custodians of their father’s memory.

The corollary is their brother is an interloper.

You almost expect them to tell us he was actually adopted, which is laughable because if a family ever shared the same obvious DNA it is the family of Robert F. Kennedy Sr.

This is one of the most insidious aspects of these family breakdowns, where one member does something that others don’t like, and there is an almost Amish-like shunning of that person as if they were aliens or traitors to some familial creed.

That is magnified tenfold when the family in question is as famous and iconic as the Kennedys.

The irony is that the reputation that RFK Jr.‘s siblings are trying to preserve is a fabrication, the truth of which is lying at the bottom of a river in Chappaquiddick.

That said, no one should be afraid to vote for or support the political candidate who speaks to them.

No one should be afraid that friendships and relationships stitched together over a lifetime of shared experience should be as fragile as one vote in one election cycle.

And yet, here we are.

Copyright 2024 Christine Flowers