2008 Woodie Awards
I see the killer in me
Jonathan Coley
Issue date: 2/27/08 Section: Opinion
Last week, two pieces of writing came across my desk that at first seemed unrelated, but the more I thought about it, I found that they were actually closely connected.
The first was in a book I was reading for my genocide class, “Exterminate all the Brutes” by Sven Lindqvist. The book chronicles the invasive European colonialism in Africa that led to the deaths of millions.
Central to the ability of the colonialists to kill so many people was their habit of calling their victims dehumanizing names like “brutes.” Lindqvist writes that such names “reduce(s) the object to its mere animal status,” while really those “objects” were human beings just like them.
The other piece of writing was an editorial written for Colorado University’s Campus Press.
The article, titled “If it’s war the Asians want…it’s war they’ll get,” sparked a firestorm of controversy for its inflammatory stereotyping of a minority group on campus.
Author Max Karson wrote, “The Asians…hate us all. And I say it’s time we started hating them back. That’s right – no more ‘tolerance.’ No more ‘cultural sensitivity.’ No more ‘Mr. Pretend-I’m-Not-Racist.’ It’s time for war.”
The editorial went on to prescribe what exactly readers should do to the Asians on campus – embarrass them if they don’t speak English, redecorate their rooms American style and force them to eat bad sushi.
Though the connection between the two pieces of writing did not hit me until I was standing in line to make a waffle a couple days later, it now seems pretty clear.
The past few hundred years have seen numerous mass killings, much like those in Africa. And while fortunately today the United States is not a place ripe for genocide, certainly we are guilty of doing something that has been characteristic of groups involved in genocides past – dehumanizing others.
Our treatment of African-Americans in the past and even today – yes, racism is still alive, even on Samford’s campus – stands out as an obvious example of inhumane treatment of “other” groups in our society.
But maybe other examples will drive the point closer to home. Why is it that we have such a desire to deport all our Mexican immigrants, painting them as “criminals” who are “hurting our way of life”?
Why is it that a funny punch line to many of our jokes is calling someone “gay” or a “Jew”?
Why is it that we label those who speak Arabic or wear turbans “terrorists,” forcing them to undergo “random security checks” every time they go through an airport?
Why is it that we cheered so easily when Iraq was bombed, even when so many of the victims were innocent women and children?
Why is it that we call human babies mere “fetuses”?
It’s easy to point our fingers in horror at those involved in genocides such as in Rwanda, who regularly labeled their victims as “cockroaches” or “insects.”
Maybe, though, we’re doing the same thing to others when we make them the butt of our jokes, applaud at their deaths and quite simply think of them as the “other” people – even though they’re human, just like us.
And maybe the reason it’s hard for me to read about topics like genocide is because when I read what the killers said about their victims, I more clearly see the killer in me.
It’s a hard message for sure, but it’s one worth thinking about.
The first was in a book I was reading for my genocide class, “Exterminate all the Brutes” by Sven Lindqvist. The book chronicles the invasive European colonialism in Africa that led to the deaths of millions.
Central to the ability of the colonialists to kill so many people was their habit of calling their victims dehumanizing names like “brutes.” Lindqvist writes that such names “reduce(s) the object to its mere animal status,” while really those “objects” were human beings just like them.
The other piece of writing was an editorial written for Colorado University’s Campus Press.
The article, titled “If it’s war the Asians want…it’s war they’ll get,” sparked a firestorm of controversy for its inflammatory stereotyping of a minority group on campus.
Author Max Karson wrote, “The Asians…hate us all. And I say it’s time we started hating them back. That’s right – no more ‘tolerance.’ No more ‘cultural sensitivity.’ No more ‘Mr. Pretend-I’m-Not-Racist.’ It’s time for war.”
The editorial went on to prescribe what exactly readers should do to the Asians on campus – embarrass them if they don’t speak English, redecorate their rooms American style and force them to eat bad sushi.
Though the connection between the two pieces of writing did not hit me until I was standing in line to make a waffle a couple days later, it now seems pretty clear.
The past few hundred years have seen numerous mass killings, much like those in Africa. And while fortunately today the United States is not a place ripe for genocide, certainly we are guilty of doing something that has been characteristic of groups involved in genocides past – dehumanizing others.
Our treatment of African-Americans in the past and even today – yes, racism is still alive, even on Samford’s campus – stands out as an obvious example of inhumane treatment of “other” groups in our society.
But maybe other examples will drive the point closer to home. Why is it that we have such a desire to deport all our Mexican immigrants, painting them as “criminals” who are “hurting our way of life”?
Why is it that a funny punch line to many of our jokes is calling someone “gay” or a “Jew”?
Why is it that we label those who speak Arabic or wear turbans “terrorists,” forcing them to undergo “random security checks” every time they go through an airport?
Why is it that we cheered so easily when Iraq was bombed, even when so many of the victims were innocent women and children?
Why is it that we call human babies mere “fetuses”?
It’s easy to point our fingers in horror at those involved in genocides such as in Rwanda, who regularly labeled their victims as “cockroaches” or “insects.”
Maybe, though, we’re doing the same thing to others when we make them the butt of our jokes, applaud at their deaths and quite simply think of them as the “other” people – even though they’re human, just like us.
And maybe the reason it’s hard for me to read about topics like genocide is because when I read what the killers said about their victims, I more clearly see the killer in me.
It’s a hard message for sure, but it’s one worth thinking about.
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