A (spazza) theory of isolated incidents

I started out writing this regular contribution at the start of 2008, at the tail end of finalising my doctoral dissertation. It was, therefore, a rather difficult period. Following the successful defence, and now being unemployed with time on my hands, I am more readily available to make a more consistent contribution to ThoughtLeader.

That said, I have thought about a theme, or a style which would help shape this contribution. In doing so, I have drawn on my scholarly and intellectual interests as a guide. While I shall not bore you for too long with the more pretentious details, I want to make the point, briefly, that as a political economist, a social theorist and cultural critic influenced (broadly) by the Critical tradition in the social sciences, I tend (among other things) to look at contradictions, inconsistencies, antinomies and false beliefs in society which may help provide a more complete understanding of power and influence, especially how existing orthodoxies reproduce myths about our times.

So, having stated all of that — and hopefully never again in this column — I want to start out by discussing a theory that I have been working on. Actually, as the pedantic among us may point out, it is not really a theory, in the purest sense of the word; it is more like a concept to help organise my thoughts. I call it the theory of isolated incidents….

My Theory as Looking Glass
This theory, I continue to call it that just for fun, has two main aspects. One is a tendency in any particular society, to dismiss violent or generally horrendous acts in society as aberrations or “isolated incidents”. Although it does not necessarily follow, the second aspect of the theory is the issue of context — more like justification, if you will — which is usually submitted as an explanation for the so-called isolated incident. Context is, of course, an important determinant of manifest phenomena; it is often very difficult to situate an act, event or state of affairs without explaining the multiplicity of social and historical forces that shaped any such phenomena.

So, the theory is as follows: Good people can never be bad, and bad people can never be good. Whenever good people do something bad, it is considered to be an isolated incident. When bad people do something bad, it is, well, because they are bad.

I remember the first time I noticed the “theory” in action. It was during a murder trial in Klerksdorp, or Potchefstroom during the 1980s. The story was something like this: A white person killed a black person. During the trial, the white person’s mother testified that her son was a “good boy” and could, therefore, not have committed the heinous crime of which he stood accused. The exact outcome is somewhat obscured by the murk and detritus of (Being) and thinking; I do recall, however, that the mother of the accused left the court, in apparent misery, escorted by a (white) policeman and what may have been a family member or friend. See the scanned pictures below.

The US as Force for Good at Home and Abroad
Having lived in the US for the past 10 years, I have had several opportunities to apply my theory of isolated incidents or view this society through the theory as looking class…. What is consistently clear from my observations is that it is generally (in the mainstream) accepted that the US is “a great country,” that it has generally been a force for “good” in the world and that it has a god-given “duty” to go about the world and change societies the way that leaders in Washington saw fit. Washington’s actions are, of course, sanctified, in the same way that “providence” was invoked to justify European expansion, invasion, possession and occupation of North America.

More recently, “Providence” was invoked to explain the election and re-election of George W Bush. With specific reference to the horrendous deaths of thousands of people in New York and Washington DC on 11 September 2001, and the subsequent invasion and occupation of Iraq, the high-priests of US foreign and military policy drew more on rhetoric and cant (and, of course, providence), apparently oblivious to plausible historical comparisons with Hitler’s own claims that he was on a mission from God, as it were. In Mein Kampf, he wrote: “I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator”.

Consider, for instance, two claims. Marine General Peter Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff claimed that: “He (Rumsvelt) leads in a way that the good Lord tells him is best for our country.” Lieutenant General William Boykin made a similar claim about President George W Bush: “Why is this man in the White House? The majority of Americans did not vote for him. Why is he there? And I tell you this morning that he’s in the White House because God put him there for a time such as this.”

Amid all this, there is the belief that the US was innocent. This is clear from the grand eloquence with which the former governor of New York described President Bush. “I thank God that on September 11th, we had a president who didn’t wring his hands and wonder what America had done wrong to deserve this attack,” he added. “I thank God we had a president who understood that America was attacked, not for what we had done wrong, but for what we did right.” It is clear, thus, that the US is generally considered to be a “good” country, and that it cannot, therefore, be bad — unless, of course, one has a problem with God, in which case you have to petition God directly. However, when viewed through the lens of “isolated incidents,” one may be forgiven for thinking that there may be something fundamentally wrong with a tout court claim that the US was good and could, therefore, never be bad.

“Good Guys” Don’t Support Bad People: Or do they?
On 28 August 1998, exactly two weeks after I arrived in the US (in what turned out to be a permanent move), I picked up a copy of the New York Times, and was especially intrigued by an article by Chester Crocker, who served as President Ronald Reagan’s Assistant Secretary of State for Africa. In the article, Crocker seemed to be critical of his own government, or perhaps he was simply being critical of the Clinton Administration.

“Our envoys have crisscrossed the region when crises erupted — a conspicuous demonstration of American concern. But we haven’t had a strategic concept beyond supporting good guys….” Crocker wrote.

More than being an apparent a case of cognitive dissonance, Crocker’s claim reflected the beliefs (as described in the preceding section) that the US was necessarily good, and therefore did only good things. Most Africans and some scholars on Africa might not consider (now deceased) African leaders like Mobutu Sese Seko, or Jonas Savimbi — recipients of significant US largesse — as among the “good guys”. Indeed, many Africans may look to leaders like Albert Luthuli, Nelson Mandela, Patrice Lumumba, Julius Nyerere, Kwame Nkrumah, Desmond Tutu or Amilcar Cabral as being among the “good guys” on the continent.

Mobutu’s cruelty and corruption is well documented; there is no need to reproduce these here. Savimbi, on the other hand, needs special mention, in the context (especially) of the US’s claim to have always supported the “good guys” in Africa. Based on the political and military support he received from the US, Savimbi fit the mould of Washington’s “good guys”. The irony was that the conservatives in Washington — Reagan and Crocker’s natural allies — considered Savimbi to be an incorrigible liar and opportunist who ruthlessly crushed any dissent in his ranks and behaved murderously toward prisoners and civilians. Liberals in the US thought of Savimbi as a cold hearted killer who sowed a veritable hell on earth in Angola. More critically, others referred to him quite simply as a “terrorist”.

Tellingly, and in a stunning about face, one of Savimbi’s erstwhile sycophants, the journalist Fred Bridgeland, described the Unita leader as a serial murderer of his closest followers. In a study of aid to Angola between 1992 and 1998, and with specific reference to Savimbi, a Danish report stated that: “Fred Bridgeland, who praised Savimbi in the 1980s, later concluded that he is a murderous dictator. According to Bridgeland, Savimbi “secures his own position within UNITA through the torture and executing of critics, sexual abuse of women etc.”

Just incidentally, in a conversation with a South African presidential adviser in 1996, I was given the impression that there was a strong sense of loyalty to Savimbi (within the presidency) to the extent that (I was told, without any sense of irony): “Savimbi [was] the real African” in the Angolan conflict….

Washington (and Crocker’s) good guys in Africa included, thus, some of the most vile and ruthless killers (Savimbi), and Mobutu, who is, arguably, the best example of corruption in post-independence Africa. This fits uncomfortably with the self-image of the US as a force for good in the world and, of course, the implication that Washington can not be bad, as detailed in my spazza theory, above.

Hate Crime in the US: Isolated Incidents
Sometime between 6 and 7 October 1998, almost two months to the day after I arrived in the US, Matthew Shepard, a student at the University of Wyoming, was brutally murdered, simply because he was gay. This was how his murder was described: [His killers] … took him out to a split-rail fence, mercilessly beat him with a pistol, tortured him, then tied him up onto the fence, and left him for dead. He was found late the next day at 6:22 p.m. by a two bikers, some 18 hours after the brutal attack. When the bikers first saw Matthew tied to the fence, they thought that what they saw [was] a scarecrow, but realised that it was a person.”

While the killers were sentenced to life imprisonment, the act was described somewhat confusingly by Jim Osborn, the President of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans-gendered Association in the following manner: “I think it’s probably an isolated incident… It is not the first assault that has occurred in Laramie, unfortunately. I do not believe that it will be the last simply because this happens no matter where you are.” The question, here, is this: If, indeed, it was an isolated incident, why the portentous (icily foreboding) statement that it would not be the last hate-crime against a gay person?

There are other incidents which would, I am sure, would be dismissed as isolated. Last year, for instance, the gridiron football player, Channing Crowder of the Miami Dolphins made the befuddling, and self-incriminating statement (not unlike that by Ms South Carolina on YouTube) that he didn’t know people spoke English in England: “I couldn’t find London on a map if they didn’t have the names of the countries. I swear to God. I don’t know what nothing is. I know Italy looks like a boot. I know (Washington Redskins linebacker) London Fletcher. We did a football camp together. So I know him. That’s the closest thing I know to London. He’s black, so I’m sure he’s not from London. I’m sure that’s a coincidental name.”

Generalising about any country is foolish. To say that one country is good, that its very existence was based on providence, and its leaders elected by divine intervention, is quite simply dishonest and, well, absurd….

The events, acts and states of affairs dismissed in a particular society as “isolated incidents” may be a reflection of deeper pathologies of that society. If one used Robert Taber’s War of the Flea as analogy, isolated incidents may well be an indication also of a more dangerous situation. Isolated incidents are, in this sense, like Taber’s ubiquitous flea on a dog. In his book, Taber wrote: “The guerrilla fights the war of the flea, and his military enemy suffers the dog’s disadvantages: too much to defend; too small, ubiquitous, and agile an enemy to come to grips with.”

We can only wait and wonder… As it goes, I may have found a trend or a theme for my contributions to ThoughtLeader; my (spazza) theory of isolated incidents.