What They Are
While reading about the early years of the Soviet Union, I came across an observation that stayed with me.
The communists often claimed that the capitalist West hated them.
There was some truth in that. Western governments opposed communist regimes and feared their expansion. They disliked the censorship, the political repression, the secret police, the labor camps, and the revolutionary violence.
In other words, much of the opposition was directed at what communist governments did.
The communists often saw things differently.
For many of them, the problem was not simply what capitalists did.
The problem was that they were capitalists.
The problem was not merely what landlords did.
The problem was that they were landlords.
The problem was not merely what the bourgeoisie did.
The problem was that they were bourgeois.
This may sound like a subtle distinction.
It is not.
To criticize what someone does leaves room for change.
To condemn what someone is does not.
A corrupt politician can leave office.
A thief can stop stealing.
A dishonest businessman can change his behavior.
But once a category itself becomes the offense, there is nowhere left to go.
The individual disappears behind the label.
History offers many examples.
The Nazis did not primarily hate Jews because of specific actions. They hated Jews because they were Jews.
The Stalinist persecution of the kulaks did not depend on what a particular farmer had done. The category itself was enough.
Once that happens, curiosity ends.
The category does all the thinking.
This tendency did not disappear with the twentieth century.
It merely changed its vocabulary.
Today people speak about migrants, conservatives, progressives, elites, Trump supporters, academics, journalists, billionaires, activists, and countless other categories.
The temptation is always the same.
Instead of asking:
"What are these people doing?"
we begin asking:
"What are these people?"
The first question invites investigation.
The second invites tribalism.
The first allows disagreement.
The second encourages contempt.
I have noticed this tendency in politics.
There are political movements whose worldview I do not share.
There are parties I often disagree with.
Yet from time to time they make a valid point.
If I judge them by what they do, I can acknowledge it.
If I judge them by what they are, I cannot.
The verdict has already been reached.
The same thing happens in ordinary life.
A teacher begins by seeing students.
Eventually he sees troublemakers.
A social worker begins by seeing clients.
Eventually he sees addicts, welfare recipients, and cases.
A manager begins by seeing people.
Eventually he sees human resources.
The labels are not always wrong.
That is not the problem.
The problem is that they are incomplete.
They become dangerous when they replace the person standing in front of us.
Perhaps that is the real lesson.
The opposite of hatred is not agreement.
The opposite of hatred is curiosity.
Hatred says:
"I already know what you are."
Curiosity asks:
"Tell me more."
One of those habits leaves room for conversation.
The other turns politics, and eventually society itself, into a sorting machine.
History suggests that this rarely ends well.