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Grim Truth 92/07/03
Mar. 7th, 2009 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_siriusGreetings, British Wizarding World.
I don't know about you, but the journal chatter this week or so has been very disturbing to me. Not the news about the Derby escapes - how's that search party working out, by the way? - but the sorts of headgames being played among several of the so-called 'in-crowd' of first-years at Hogwarts. This class holds my interest for a number of reasons, not least of which is that it's the first class raised entirely within the current regime. Oh, I know virtually all Hogwarts’ current students have no memory of any other era in our history. But the first-years seem particularly vicious this term.
I know a little something about popularity games - and bullying - at school. I was both its victim and its perpetrator, to my discomfort (and remorse) now that I look back on it. We thought we lived atop the world back then, and the brief stint of persecution we suffered as 'ickle firsties' only served to confirm our suspicion that we were the few, the proud and the unstoppable. And after our first year, we were, for the most part.
That meant that we also made some pretty awful decisions. (My sympathies to Headmistress McGonagall, whom I am sure still remembers with equal regret and amusement the days when Potter and Black alternately glorified and besmirched the reputation of Gryffindor House.) And there were always a few who protested that we were being cruel, but for the most part, people would rather turn their heads and secretly thank their stars that we chose someone else to single out. Given the way almost everyone, apart from a very few affected parties, barely reacted to the events I’m about to mention, I see that the callow attitude hasn’t changed – although the stakes are considerably higher.
There were three recent occurrences at Hogwarts that serve as background for our discussion today. You may have read about them; I know that the students are still talking about some of them, even if they say they're not. The first is the Headmistress's decision to assign her library assistant to a student for a personal valet; the second is the disappearance of Amycus Carrow's servant; and the third is the treatment a half-blood student received from several of her classmates. Keep each of these incidents in mind as we continue.
What do these events have in common? They have to do with how we view and exercise our authority as wizards over other beings. For the moment, let's pretend that Muggleborn wizards and witches are actually not members of the same race, with every right to wield the powers with which they were endowed. Does that mean that we therefore have the right to rob them of dignity or autonomy? Does it mean that they are unfit to be trusted with their own choices, their bodies, their very lives? And if we believe that, then how far is it to go to begin persecuting those who are more than half Muggle? Half-Muggle? Less than half?
Apparently, it’s not far at all.
To give someone complete dominion over another intelligent being is to invite him to abuse that power. The longer one has access to such power, the more likely one is to exert it in harmful ways. Even if a 'master' is good, kind and gentle to his ‘slave’, the knowledge that he can if he so desires cause physical or mental harm is a heady potion, impossible not to drink eventually. Over time, that license corrupts its wielder, warps his sense of what is acceptable. The cutting remark becomes a cuff to the ear; a day under lock and key becomes a week in confinement; the swipe of a boot becomes the swish of the Cruciatus curse. And it is superficial differences that become the justifications for one person to tear down someone else.
Physical violence is possibly the worst privation one human can inflict on another. But just as damaging in its way is the psychological effect derived from systematically denigrating a segment of the population, collectively – or individually. While physical pain can do permanent damage, psychological trauma robs its victims of their pride, their self-confidence and their sense of their boundless potential. It doesn’t matter whether the wronged party is male or female, Muggleborn or ‘pure’, destitute or well-heeled. Prejudice is poison.
The Protectorate wants you to believe that it doesn’t matter what happens to the Muggles, Muggleborns and Squibs whose lives have been stolen. It matters because whatever their abilities, they are still human. It matters because the question of equality among humans was settled a long time ago, and yet the oppression of one man by another persists. What does it say about us – not as wizards and witches, but as men and women - that we have returned to a practise deemed illegal in our nation since 1833? For one hundred and fifty years, England had no slaves.
Now?
Why have we turned our backs on lessons already learned by nearly every civilised nation in the world? Why are we teaching our children that it is acceptable – even desirable – to persecute each other based solely on who their parents are or were? There’s no honour in beating down someone who has no recourse for fighting back and it’s a lie to say otherwise.
Anyone who believes that slavery is humane if managed well or that abuse is all that slaves deserve, ask yourself: What would you do if someone snapped your wand, took your freedom, cast you down and forced you to labour for others – not for any specific crime, but simply because you happen to be British?
Well, let's not dwell on that unpleasant thought for the moment. Instead, think about this simple, but Grim Truth. Slavery brutalises both the slaver and the enslaved.
I don't know about you, but the journal chatter this week or so has been very disturbing to me. Not the news about the Derby escapes - how's that search party working out, by the way? - but the sorts of headgames being played among several of the so-called 'in-crowd' of first-years at Hogwarts. This class holds my interest for a number of reasons, not least of which is that it's the first class raised entirely within the current regime. Oh, I know virtually all Hogwarts’ current students have no memory of any other era in our history. But the first-years seem particularly vicious this term.
I know a little something about popularity games - and bullying - at school. I was both its victim and its perpetrator, to my discomfort (and remorse) now that I look back on it. We thought we lived atop the world back then, and the brief stint of persecution we suffered as 'ickle firsties' only served to confirm our suspicion that we were the few, the proud and the unstoppable. And after our first year, we were, for the most part.
That meant that we also made some pretty awful decisions. (My sympathies to Headmistress McGonagall, whom I am sure still remembers with equal regret and amusement the days when Potter and Black alternately glorified and besmirched the reputation of Gryffindor House.) And there were always a few who protested that we were being cruel, but for the most part, people would rather turn their heads and secretly thank their stars that we chose someone else to single out. Given the way almost everyone, apart from a very few affected parties, barely reacted to the events I’m about to mention, I see that the callow attitude hasn’t changed – although the stakes are considerably higher.
There were three recent occurrences at Hogwarts that serve as background for our discussion today. You may have read about them; I know that the students are still talking about some of them, even if they say they're not. The first is the Headmistress's decision to assign her library assistant to a student for a personal valet; the second is the disappearance of Amycus Carrow's servant; and the third is the treatment a half-blood student received from several of her classmates. Keep each of these incidents in mind as we continue.
What do these events have in common? They have to do with how we view and exercise our authority as wizards over other beings. For the moment, let's pretend that Muggleborn wizards and witches are actually not members of the same race, with every right to wield the powers with which they were endowed. Does that mean that we therefore have the right to rob them of dignity or autonomy? Does it mean that they are unfit to be trusted with their own choices, their bodies, their very lives? And if we believe that, then how far is it to go to begin persecuting those who are more than half Muggle? Half-Muggle? Less than half?
Apparently, it’s not far at all.
To give someone complete dominion over another intelligent being is to invite him to abuse that power. The longer one has access to such power, the more likely one is to exert it in harmful ways. Even if a 'master' is good, kind and gentle to his ‘slave’, the knowledge that he can if he so desires cause physical or mental harm is a heady potion, impossible not to drink eventually. Over time, that license corrupts its wielder, warps his sense of what is acceptable. The cutting remark becomes a cuff to the ear; a day under lock and key becomes a week in confinement; the swipe of a boot becomes the swish of the Cruciatus curse. And it is superficial differences that become the justifications for one person to tear down someone else.
Physical violence is possibly the worst privation one human can inflict on another. But just as damaging in its way is the psychological effect derived from systematically denigrating a segment of the population, collectively – or individually. While physical pain can do permanent damage, psychological trauma robs its victims of their pride, their self-confidence and their sense of their boundless potential. It doesn’t matter whether the wronged party is male or female, Muggleborn or ‘pure’, destitute or well-heeled. Prejudice is poison.
The Protectorate wants you to believe that it doesn’t matter what happens to the Muggles, Muggleborns and Squibs whose lives have been stolen. It matters because whatever their abilities, they are still human. It matters because the question of equality among humans was settled a long time ago, and yet the oppression of one man by another persists. What does it say about us – not as wizards and witches, but as men and women - that we have returned to a practise deemed illegal in our nation since 1833? For one hundred and fifty years, England had no slaves.
Now?
Why have we turned our backs on lessons already learned by nearly every civilised nation in the world? Why are we teaching our children that it is acceptable – even desirable – to persecute each other based solely on who their parents are or were? There’s no honour in beating down someone who has no recourse for fighting back and it’s a lie to say otherwise.
Anyone who believes that slavery is humane if managed well or that abuse is all that slaves deserve, ask yourself: What would you do if someone snapped your wand, took your freedom, cast you down and forced you to labour for others – not for any specific crime, but simply because you happen to be British?
Well, let's not dwell on that unpleasant thought for the moment. Instead, think about this simple, but Grim Truth. Slavery brutalises both the slaver and the enslaved.
