My husband and I finally watched Hotel Rwanda last night. Like MSOC, we have had the movie sitting around for a long time, but I just couldn't make myself watch it until yesterday.
After the movie ended, we couldn't really talk about it. We exchanged a couple of words, and went to hide out in our respective offices for a bit. As I read dKos, though, it came to me that the movie really wasn't about Rwandan genocide. It told the story of Rwandan genocide, but it was about our very human ability to compartmentalize, to explain away the bad things that happen to other people, or to actually hurt other people because they are different. They are not us. They are not like us.
It came to me why while the raw brutality in the movie was very difficult to watch, the thing the hurt me the most, almost physically, was the repeated use of the word "cockroach." Cockroaches are not like us. You can step on one and the worst thing about it would be that your shoe would get dirty.
In Vietnam, there were gooks. In Iraq, they are hajis. They are not like us, and that is why you can kick them, and put them on the leash. And burn them with cigarettes, and let the dogs at them, and suspend them from the ceiling. The frame, it's stronger than your eyes. When our soldiers were kicking the
MP who was posing as a detainee for training purposes, they were not kicking a human being. He was a detainee. And they are not like us.
We know, of course, all of us here on dKos know that for ages finding someone to blame has been the ruling savages' salvation. Rather often my own people, the Jews, were the ones blamed. Have you ever seen the footage of the Jews of Kiev being marched to the Babiy Yar, with their Ukrainian neighbors lining the streets and cheering? How could you cheer? Well, these are the Jews, after all. They are getting their comeuppance. They are not like us.
But the thing that occurred to me last night is that this compartmentalization is not a sole province of "bad people." The movie's hero, Paul, is a hotel manager when the movie starts. On the evening of the day we meet him, he sees a neighbor being pulled out of his house and beaten by the army. His wife asks him to call in a favor or two to get the man released because "he is a good neighbor." But Paul says to leave these things to his "good judgement." The man is not family, and family is all that matters. He is storing favors up for when he will need them for his family. He even goes as far as to suggest that the man must have been a rebel spy, because there are so many of them around now. He is not us. He is not like us.
We often wonder why American people are not up in arms about Guantanamo. We don't understand our neighbors and acquaintances who don't give a rat's ass about the torture and mistreatment. We don't know how to talk to them, what to say. I don't know either. It scares me when otherwise nice people say "I don't care how many of them we detain and then release. I don't care if they are all innocent. Whatever it takes to protect us from another attack." Yes, "them." We don't care about "them." They are not like us.
As the movie progresses, we get to see the flip side of this phenomenon. We don't understand how other people can look at our suffering and not want to help. Paul tells the white Western cameraman that he is glad of the footage he shot and released to the world. Now they will have to intervene. How could you not intervene when you see this? The cameraman wants to know if it's still a good thing to show if no one will come. "I think when people see things like this, they say `How horrible!' and go on eating their dinners." They are not like us.
The UN commander in Rwanda apologizes to Paul. He explains that the lives of black Africans are not worth a single vote to French or Belgian governments. You are not like us.
Rove came out and said it--liberals are not like "us". They are not real Americans. The White House, Kay Bailey Hutchinson, and some conservatives I know don't understand what the big deal is. He was just talking about the difference in approaches. The liberals, we know what the big deal is. He claimed the ownership of what is supposed to be sacredly common, and he declared that "you are not like us."
Tutsi and Hutu--these are the made-up differences. Introduced by Belgian colonialists, in their misguided attempt to classify ability based on the skin tone and nose width. Ridiculous, right? Would they ever let someone determine their ability based on their nose width? But these people were black. Savages, in need of help. They were not like us.
Democrats, Republicans. We self-affiliate. But what really is the difference? Nose width or beliefs-- what makes one a cockroach? What makes one "not like us?"
This has been a weekend of deep thought for me. We went to NY to celebrate our wedding anniversary. While there, we saw "Streetcar named Desire" and a new play "Paris Letter." If you are in NY or thereabouts, or if you can go, see the "Paris Letter." It's an amazing play, amazingly written, amazingly acted. We also saw the new production of "Who is afraid of Virginia Wolf?" a few months ago. The play has come up a few times this weekend, and finally, Friday night we saw an interview with the stars of that production on NY's public TV channel. So as it turns out, the theme for my week since Thursday has been similarities and differences in the human experience. How do we draw the line? Who is not like us?
The woman who had an abortion, if you haven't had one--she is not like you. Especially if you do not like or approve of her reason for having one. The gay guy, if you are straight--he is not like you. Especially if he makes a big deal out of something you think is unimportant or can wait politically. Infertile people, if you have never had this problem--they are not like you. Especially if they seem so damn sensitive about it. I could go on and on, because, really, who is like us?
A couple of months ago I read an article (in New Yorker maybe?) that talked about how the biggest source of combat veterans' mental health issues is not loosing friends. It's having killed someone. The armed forces need to train soldiers to not recognize the humanity of the enemy because the soldiers need to kill the enemy. Enemy is not like us. But it seems that when the veterans come home, a lot of them think of those they killed as human beings. As family people. Like us.
So what do we do? I don't see a quick solution. I don't think we can all just sing Kumbaya and pledge to never take another's pain for granted, or to dismiss it. We can try to be more conscious of our own tendencies to feel special and unique at the expense of other people, but is it enough? I don't know that it is. Certainly, it won't stop Rove from blabbing on.
And is it enough to only talk about this with people on dKos, people like us? Who is like us, anyway?
