This newspaper rarely editorialises on overseas politics, but President Trump has been a regular exception to an unwritten rule.
As president of the United States his influence extends far beyond his own country, and we have often had cause to regret the impact his actions have had on our far-off shores — the lamentable war in the Middle East and its associated fuel crisis being but the latest example of that.
But no matter how reprehensible one might believe President Trump to be, either personally or politically, nothing excuses any attempt to cause him bodily harm.
On Sunday Cole Tomas Allen was arrested after attempting to gatecrash the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner, which was being attended by Mr Trump, his wife, many senior administration officials, members of the judiciary, other prominent persons and, of course, many journalists.
As attempts to cause harm go it was not much of one — Allen was wrestled to the ground before being able to deploy the arsenal of weapons he was carrying.
That said, the manifesto he allegedly left behind occasioned little doubt about his malign intentions.
However, serious questions will need to be asked about how Allen got as close to the President as he did — especially given the high-profile visit by King Charles, which started yesterday despite the security scare.
This is far from the first attempt to harm Mr Trump. Most famously, he was nicked by a bullet fired by a gunman during a 2024 presidential campaign event, but there have been several other genuine attempts or unrealised plots to assassinate him.
There will likely be others that have not been disclosed publicly. Sadly, there will likely be more.
Mr Trump has shrugged off the latest attempt as being part of the job, but the risk of death should not be considered an occupational hazard for any politician, anywhere.
The list of US presidents killed or wounded by assailants is distressingly long, and no-one profits by adding to it.
Any other way invites repression in the name of security, and a further weakening of the freedoms all should be able to enjoy and be afforded the protection of.
One of the key tenets of the movement for American independence, which began 250 years ago, was no taxation without representation.
That has evolved into a political system where representatives of the people make regular public appearances and are accessible to the people that they represent.
It would be deeply regrettable if incidents such as the one last weekend forced Mr Trump, or other politicians, to reduce their public appearances, or to go nowhere unless surrounded by a ring of steel.
They should have the same freedom of movement and association as anyone else, and to then be able to exercise their freedom of expression as they see fit.
New Zealand seems far away from all this, and while it certainly is geographically that does not mean that it is immune from the possibility of such unwarranted violence.
The need for a security presence at the talk by Dame Jacinda Ardern and Grant Robertson in Dunedin a fortnight ago is a hyper local example of this.
Dame Jacinda’s inability to feel relaxed and safe when at home is an ongoing disgrace.
More broadly the Prime Minister specifically, and other senior politicians occasionally, travel with security officers for a sadly necessary reason.
While the holders of those positions do not, thankfully, attract the level of hate and threats that President Trump does, there are enough disturbing things said about them online or sent to them via the post for guards to be an unfortunate requirement.
New Zealand’s politicians have so far been able to do their jobs untrammelled, and long may they do so, but they would be well justified in looking at events in the US and wondering how long that state of affairs can continue.
Cole Tomas Allen, Thomas Crooks, Austin Tucker Martin and their ilk are symptomatic of the illness afflicting politics. Finding a cure will not be easy, but failure to do so will irrevocably change the nature of politics, to everyone’s detriment.
