Hateful rhetoric and its consequences
The El Paso shooting, which claimed 22 lives earlier this month, is further evidence of how profoundly hateful and xenophobic rhetoric has altered public discourse in the United States. Less than half an hour before the gunman opened fire with a semi-automatic rifle in the Cielo Vista mall, he posted a manifesto on 8chan, a website favoured by white nationalists and other members of the far right. Praising the Christchurch mosque shootings, the document justified the forthcoming massacre as “a response to the Hispanic invasion of Texas.” Apparently, among other things, this would mean that: “The Democrat party will own America and they know it. They have already begun the transition by pandering heavily to the Hispanic voting bloc in the 1st Democratic Debate.” The shooter also noted that “at least with Republicans, the process of mass immigration and citizenship can be greatly reduced” and he added that unlike “Our European comrades” who “have no choice but to sit by and watch their countries burn,” he could rely on US gun laws to help him defend America.
In the wake of the shooting, President Donald Trump and many rightwing pundits who have railed against a migrant “invasion” of the US, sought to distance themselves from the incident. Despite reams of evidence that their rhetoric had helped to radicalize the shooter, outlets like Fox News treated the crime solely as the work of a crazed lone wolf. Pushing back against this narrative, ABC News reported that in at least 36 current criminal cases, Trump has been “invoked in direct connection with violent acts, threats of violence or allegations of assault.” When the New York Times chose to ignore the president’s long history of racism and to take his comments in the wake of the shooting at face value, its headline (“Trump Urges Unity vs. Racism”) was instantly, and correctly, derided. Shortly afterwards, of course, the Times would report that the White House had actively sought to have two Muslim members of Congress barred from visiting Israel, less than a month after Trump told them to “go back” to their ancestral homes instead of criticising America.
Mass shootings occur in the US with such regularity that it seems unlikely that another incident, however appalling, will tip the legislative balance towards gun control. Nevertheless, the El Paso shooting has occurred at an unusual political moment. The shooter’s overtly racist motivation has raised alarms well beyond the state of Texas. Martha Bárcena, Mexico’s ambassador to the US, publicly stated that “Xenophobic and racist discourse breeds hate crimes,” and
the killings of several Mexican nationals in the incident have prompted Mexico’s foreign minister Marcelo Ebrard to consider taking action under international law. According to the Washington Post, the Mexican government has asked its attorney general “to consider charging the [El Paso] suspect…with committing terrorist acts against Mexicans in the United States.”
As the El Paso shooter’s invocation of the Christchurch massacre suggests, murderous extremists now draw inspiration from a growing number of digital hate groups which have, in turn, become increasingly emboldened by the mainstreaming of their opinions. Censorship of such groups is impractical, especially given the strength of America’s First Amendment protections, but holding the pundits who repeatedly stoke xenophobia and racism accountable for their actions should not be. The #MeToo movement has shown that American corporations are sensitive to public pressure and several have withdrawn advertising and sponsorship of pundits who continue to embrace divisive, racist and xenophobic attitudes. This is essential, especially in the run-up to the next American elections, but it may not be enough.
Two years ago, the New Yorker journalist Maria Konnikova examined the rapid shift of cultural norms which allows previously unimaginable statements and acts to become commonplace. She interviewed Betsy Levy Paluck, a Princeton psychologist who had studied Rwanda in the run-up to the 1994 genocide. What Paluck found was that the killings were not due to “the power of age-old hatreds” but because social norms had been altered from the top
down: “influential radio stations broadcast a powerful, persuasive, and constantly repeating message urging listeners to join killing squads and organize roadblocks. ‘That was the voice of authority,’ Paluck explained. Suddenly, people saw violence as something that wasn’t just possible but normal.”
Trump has had unparalleled success at disinhibiting the American id and empowering a base of angry ethnonationalists. American news outlets have hesitated to call out his provocations for what they are, but foreign media have been less timid. A columnist in the German newspaper Der Tagesspiegel, writes that Trump’s “daily racism” is what “prepared the intellectual ground” for the shootings. An editorial in Le Monde noted that while he could not be “held directly responsible” that “his speech fuels hatred.” An op-ed piece in the Sydney Morning Herald noted parallels with the collapse of civil discourse in pre-genocide Rwanda.
The relatively short period in which Trump’s worldview has become the new normal in large swathes of America is a disturbing example of how quickly even the most mature and seemingly robust democracies can fall prey to racism and xenophobia. It is a warning that should not be lost on much younger multicultural societies like our own.