There’s a reason why we should always avoid using the word “oppressors” except in dire extremes. This kind of language is the language of radical revolution. It’s an ideological weapon with a very specific purpose. And that purpose is to justify the use of force. It’s a weapon of war. That’s why it’s been used again and again in every bloody revolution throughout all time. The French used it to justify killing the nobles. The Russians used it to justify killing the beourgois. Tribes all across the world have used it to justify destroying other tribes. The Chinese have used it, even the Germans used it against the Jews (and other Western powers). And yes, it was used in the one revolution we judge as just, by the Americans against the British, and again during the Civil War.
There’s too much to get into in individual situations to unpack what the meaning and justification of the term is for humans. It’s enough to observe that everybody uses it, and that it’s fundamental function is the justification of force in demolishing the strength of an enemy. That’s the work it does in our psychology. It’s a useful idea, it’s been used time and again to instigate change, usually with violence. It’s part of the nature of the concept that violence is an almost inevitable outcome, because of how it frames the problem.
The idea does several things that help us prepare for the use of force. First, it divides the world clearly into oppressor and oppressed. That’s both a power dynamic and a moral dynamic. These people have power and these people don’t. These people are evil perpetrators and these people are innocent victims. You’ve got a clear dichotomy. And there’s a clear implicit judgment that the position of the people in power is itself a corruption. There isn’t a good reason for it, they haven’t earned it. They aren’t justified in their position. They’re parasitical. They maintain their power at the expense of the oppressed (an argument made by both Soviets and Nazis about their enemies). And this is also often an argument for the viability of the fight. The power of the oppressors is a trick. It’s not necessary, not supported by the nature of the universe; this state of things is not inevitable, the universe is on our side.
The problem is neatly framed, so the solution is also clear. Either the bad people or their power need to be removed. Revolution. Turning. Take the people on top and move them to the bottom. Take the morally superior oppressed and move them to the top. Give them power. And the world will be fixed. You’re preparing a narrative whose thrust is, “What I see as being wrong with the world will be fixed if we overthrow these people.”
Simplification is also one of the implicit features of this narrative. Reducing categories down to oppressor and oppressed, those who are the problem and those who are victims. Good and bad. Defeat the bad, solve the problem of the good. You need that kind of clarity in order to wage war. Complexity will make you hesitate, and in an outright conflict against a powerful foe (implicit in their role as oppressor), you can’t afford it.
Now, it’s worth noting that this weapon is a powerful weapon for a reason. We often need it in a hostile world of great injustices. It’s very important for our survival and development. To confront great dangers you need something that makes you equally dangerous. When you start building this type of narrative, you’re setting up your nuclear options. You’re gearing your mind for war. That’s why this narrative is such a common precursor to actual wars across the globe and throughout history. It conditions the mind for the task ahead. It prepares the people. If grows the army. It clarifies the enemy. Clarification, identification, simplification, militarization. It makes the problem clear, it tells who who is on what side, it reduces the conflict and its solution to a clear course of action, and it prepares the people to confront the problem.
The function and power and danger of the oppressor narrative exist simply as a fact, outside any judgements about how it was used and whether it was justified. Often the arguments seem good at the time, but the end result is just more instability, failure to see the goals and the new utopia materialize, the rise of a new form of oppression or new class of oppressors, mass destruction, cruelty, incompetence and mismanagement, or in a more banal case things just don’t really get much better or easier once the initial elation wears off. Revolution so often merely turns the wheel of who is being crushed, or how, or why, and starts a new cycle. And round and round it goes.
So what are the potential problems that the oppressor narrative might run into that can lead to these disappointing outcomes? Well, they occur on all four of the chief points: clarification, identification, simplification, and militarization. First, you might have identified the problem incorrectly or insufficiently, so your revolution will fail to really address it. Second, you might have incorrectly identified the perpetrators, either including some that weren’t to blame or not blaming some who were. Third, you might have oversimplified both the problem and who was to blame, as well as how to fix it. Your explanation might have been too reductive and failed to account for the complexity of the situation, leading you to improperly address it. Fourth, you might fail to properly direct or restrain your use of force.
People are inherently challenge and conflict driven. They have a natural need to identify and confront danger and defeat enemies (or build a safe space apart from those dangers, which often requires defending the walls or defending against internal threats). We all want a walled garden in which to thrive, and we all have different ideas about how best to get it and maintain it, but ultimately it’s all about recognizing and dealing with or eliminating threats. We identify dangers and we confront them. It’s helped us survive and develop and promote justice and order, but it’s also caused a huge amount of suffering and injustice and chaos. If the enemies to be confronted aren’t obvious, if they aren’t to be found outside us, it’s still a guarantee that we won’t be content. We’ll still be suffering. It’s part of the reality of human existence. And we’ll want to find the source, the people to blame, and we’ll want to confront the problem. We’ll find enemies; we’ll find them within if we can’t find them without. And if we can’t restrain how we use force, it’s easy for it to get out of hand. And if we’re applying it internally, within our own structures, there’s just as much potential for destruction as when we go to war with an external foe, possibly more.
Confrontation is often necessary in life. Soft power often fails, and you have to meet force with force. Not all the time, but more often than we would like. But how you do that, how you militarize your response, how willing you are to use force rather than soft power, how necessary you see it as being, can be a danger area. Soft power, a lighter touch, diplomacy, negotiation, finding common ground, seeking peaceful solutions can often yield much better and less costly results. And it’s very easy to make hasty judgments about the need to end the words and bring out the guns. Talk is useless, empty placating and mere comisserstion, some would argue. We need action, is the argument of the revolution. And once you’ve made the move to force, it’s not an easy thing to restrain. You’re committed to a certain amount of chaos and destruction by bringing it to bear. So you’d better be pretty sure that you haven’t made any mistake on the first three points and watch very carefully how much free rein you give the fourth, because there are going to be real consequences. You need to make sure that the price you’re going to pay is worth the prize you seek. Thanks to the first three points, for those embracing the narrative, they’re usually quite certain that it is.
It’s often a problem talking to people about the four points. It’s often a problem because any criticism of how they’re approaching the problem might make them decide to lump you in with the people who are the problem. I’ve often read people’s arguments about injustice and felt unable to criticize them. You can’t criticize them without denying their suffering, without denying the injustice, and without therefore being on the side of the oppressors.
And if you’re concerned that the outcome of someone’s arguments might actually be dangerous because of their mistakes and might fail to address their problems, and wonder if maybe the story isn’t so simple as they see it and maybe their identification of the enemy isn’t as clear as they make it, well, you might as well just declare yourself a traitor. Because in war there’s no room for any of that. We’re fighting for our lives here. You’re helping preserve the corrupt power structures. You’re a collaborator. You’re culpable for the wrongs being done by the (possibly small minority, possibly large majority) cruelest, most active oppressors. So you’re condemned with them.
We’re outside the world of personal negotiation or compromise or growth or freedom or discussion here, and we’ve moved into the spheres of the law and war. Criminal justice and deliberate force. Guilt, innocence, and punishment. You’re either for the prosecution or you’re for the defense. You’re either our ally or our enemy. There’s not a lot of room left for discussion when we’ve moved to a criminal trial or open confrontation. All you can do is pick a side.
So how, then, does one criticize an approach that has already elevated rhetoric to the level of the oppressor narrative? It’s not easy. That’s why we need to be so cautious about elevating our rhetoric that high. It’s why we should be cautious about calling the police or army to resolve our concerns. The law and the military and increasingly brute forces. They tend to remove the possibility of peaceful solutions. You’re committing yourself to confrontation. And that doesn’t just militarize you, it militarizes your enemy. They will perceive the threat and the approach you’re taking to them, and they’ll respond in kind. They will recognize how they’re being categorized and the threat of force and they’ll also start to tighten ranks. The situation will escalate.
Once you’ve set the machinery of the oppression narrative to work, it’s not easy to slow it down or stop it or add subtlety. It naturally works to clarify, identify, simplify, and arm us. It turns us into warriors. Not diplomats or counselors or politicians or neighbors or friends or partners or brothers or sisters. Warriors. And that kind of excites us. It’s part of our nature, part of what makes us strong and able to survive and conquer the threats within and without. It changes how we approach resistance and criticism. The criticism itself becomes part of the force we are confronting.
And this, I suppose, it why it’s often the case that revolutions go wrong or don’t really change things much, or get out of hand, or get taken over for the benefit of someone else. Some people instinct ly know how to fan the flames and sieze the reins for their own personal benefit. Because someone is going to benefit from the revolution. When the wheel turns there’s going to be a massive loss of power by someone and some serious gains by others. If you can take care to channel and redirect those gains to yourself, how much the better! And it’s a terrible temptation, if you’re leading the revolution, to not merely stop at increased equity but to keep going and assign power to yourself and your people, and to install yourself as the primary and deserving beneficiary of the revolution. After all, you’re likely to be hailed as the beloved savior of the people and cause you championed, regardless of the outcomes. And if you can keep blaming any problems on the former oppressors and their structures, then you’ll always have a handy way to set aside criticisms of your approach and get people to fall in behind you. The Soviets had the capitalists, Cuba had the USA, Trump had his deep state and Hilary Clinton, Mugabe had the colonialists, China had the Western powers and Japan, Germany had the Jewish conspiracy, Turkey has the Kurds, Iraq has Iran, and so on and so on. You can always put off internal criticism with a reminder that you’re in a battle against an enemy, and they’re to blame, and you need to either get behind us or be branded a traitor.
And let’s be honest, sometimes there isn’t room or time for subtlety. The military works on authority and loyalty, not argument and discussion. It needs that structure to be effective. That’s what makes it dangerous, both positively (in its capacity to match and overcome danger itself), and negatively (it’s not a subtle instrument and is going to have results). Any subtlety or discussion needs to either take place beforehand or only at the highest levels of decision. And thats one reason our country has so much red tape and checks of power when it comes to the use of force, why there are so many restrictions on law and military and how they can use their force. Yes, it’s powerful for good because it’s just plain powerful. If we use it carelessly it can cause great harm as well as great good.
Female abuse as perfect example.