The phrase “history repeats itself” is widely known and often used for various reasons.
It highlights recurring patterns in human behavior, societal trends and historical or political events.
That’s where Hamilton: An American Musical comes in. The comparison for this analysis: is history really repeating itself?
By examining a quote from the musical alongside a contemporary political story, we can explore whether the ideals, conflicts and ambitions that shaped the early republic are echoing in current events, or if what appears familiar is simply history’s rhyming, not its repetition.
Last week’s discussion on the partisan divide leads us into this week’s edition, where we compare the media polarization and press restrictions surrounding Jimmy Kimmel Live! to the power dynamics that shaped the founding of our nation.
In the song “Washington On Your Side,” Burr raps: “Our cab’net’s fractured into factions / Try not to crack under the stress, we’re breaking down like fractions / We smack each other in the press, and we don’t print retractions.”
This portrayal of political division, media manipulation and personal attacks all feel just as relevant today. On Sept. 15, late-night host Jimmy Kimmel delivered a monologue criticizing the conservative leaning media response following political commentator Charlie Kirk’s death.
“The MAGA Gang [is] desperately trying to characterize this kid who murdered Charlie Kirk as anything other than one of them and doing everything they can to score political points from it,” Kimmel said.
Kimmel accused right-wing outlets of attempting to shift blame and deflect from the broader political climate that, in his view, fuels radicalization.
Several ABC affiliates, particularly those owned by large, conservative-leaning broadcasters like Nexstar and Sinclair, swiftly pulled Jimmy Kimmel Live! from their local lineups. Soon after, Disney/ABC joined and announced a temporary suspension of the show. While Kimmel returned to air a week later, the controversy showed a troubling intersection of corporate influence, political pressure and government overreach.
Federal Communications Commission (FCC) Chairman Brendan Carr further intensified the retaliation by publicly questioning ABC’s license and hinting at potential regulatory consequences.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way… These companies can find ways to change conduct to take action on Kimmel or, you know, there’s going to be additional work for the FCC ahead,” Carr said.
Carr’s remarks did not result in formal action, but his public pressure raised alarm among First Amendment advocates. And while the Communications Act of 1934 explicitly bars the FCC from censoring or interfering with broadcasters’ freedom of speech, the FCC can regulate news distortion and enforce the Equal Time Rule, gray areas that become dangerous when wielded politically.
It is important to note that Disney/ABC is a private company. Suspending Kimmel is not a First Amendment violation in a legal sense. However, when political officials like Carr suggest consequences for broadcasting decisions, or when major station groups like Nexstar and Sinclair use their market dominance to influence programming, the distinction between private choice and political coercion blurs.
This becomes more complicated in the context of media consolidation. With the ongoing Nexstar–TEGNA merger and fewer independent local news outlets, a small number of corporate actors now control what large portions of the country see on TV. In such a landscape, politically motivated decisions at the top can have sweeping effects on public discourse.
This isn’t the first time America has grappled with speech, factionalism and media influence. The Founding era saw vicious pamphlet wars, partisan newspapers and even attempts to silence opposition through laws like the Alien and Sedition Acts. Today’s social media battles and broadcast skirmishes may be digital, but the fundamental tensions remain unchanged.
While the controversy originated from a politically-charged topic, the broader issue goes beyond partisanship. Kimmel used his platform to express a perspective that, while uncomfortable for some, others saw as a legitimate critique of political rhetoric, highlighting the growing difficulty of having open conversations. The suspension further demonstrates how divided the American media ecosystem has become. Local stations, owned by large conglomerates, now have control over national programming. What one viewer sees as satire, another may view as political provocation, and depending on who owns the station, that can determine whether the show even airs.
This fragmentation mirrors the historical tension described in Hamilton, not just between political factions, but between institutions meant to serve the public good.
Supporters of Kimmel argue that he was doing what political comedians have done for decades, offering sharp commentary through humor. His critics claim he crossed a line by politicizing a tragedy. But regardless of one’s view on the monologue itself, the fact that its consequences extended beyond criticism into coordinated broadcasting decisions and government pressure is what many find most troubling.
It sets a precedent that satire and commentary, especially when critical of those in power, can be punished not through debate but through deplatforming.
What makes Kimmel’s case unique is not the content of his speech, but the reaction it provoked, one that could deter others in the media from taking similar risks.
The lines from Hamilton resonate because they speak to a timeless conflict in American democracy: the continued clash between speech, power and truth.
Whether in Revolutionary era newspapers or 24-hour cable news cycles, media remains a battlefield. The Kimmel suspension shows that while technology and platforms have evolved, the core struggle, over who gets to speak and who gets silenced, remains the same.
