If we had become desensitized to videos of policemen killing Black men, the death of Tyre Nichols has reawakened our feelings and demonstrated that we still have the capacity to be shaken and outraged.
The beating of the unarmed, handcuffed Nichols was brutal and shocking. We were also shocked by the deaths of George Floyd, Eric Garner, Michael Brown and many others. In fact, national traumas such as these usually provoke us to spend a week or two asking ourselves how they could have happened and how we can prevent them in the future.
So far answers to these questions elude us. But consider this subset of our American penchant for police violence:
What role — if any — did racism play in the death of Tyre Nichols?
Those who imagine that racism is a thing of the past in our country may have enjoyed some smug satisfaction from the fact that the five police officers who killed Nichols are Black. At first glance, they have a point. At last, police brutality is colorblind.
But if racism played no role in the death of Tyre Nichols, how else do we account for the brutality? Some have suggested that Nichols’ death reflects a broader context of pervasive violence in our culture that transcends racism. They also have a point.
In one respect the United States is close to unique: It’s hard to think of another nation that has never been invaded, colonized, exploited for its natural resources or defeated in war, if we ignore misadventures such as Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.
We’ve always won. And while our winning has depended on hard work, perseverance, sacrifice and ingenuity, it has also relied heavily on the force of arms, in ways that occur to you immediately, just as they do to me. There’s a reason that the Winchester rifle Model 1873 was marketed as “The Gun That Won the West.”
As far as I know, we’re the only nation that has embodied the right to own guns in its constitution, which has abetted our standing as one of the most violent and deadly developed countries. Violence is essential to our national game — football — and it serves as the basis for a great deal of our entertainment. Western movies used to be called “shoot ‘em ups,” and now that term is applied to video games that capitalize on violence, bloodshed and firepower as the only ways to win. Virtually every kid — the boys, anyway — grows up playing these games, including, probably, the five Memphis officers who killed Tyre Nichols.
In fact, it shouldn’t surprise us if police officers raised in this environment absorb our culture’s essential lesson: Action — even violent action — is preferable to reason. It’s the first resort rather than the last.
In fact, a certain ex-president, addressing a group of law enforcement officials in 2017, patted himself on the back for supporting the militarization of police and commended ICE Director Tom Homan for looking “very nasty” and “very mean.” Homan’s officers, Donald Trump said, were “rough guys.” He referred to a Chicago police officer by equating “rough cookie” with a “really respected guy.”
Further, Trump said, to the audience’s general amusement: When you’re throwing a “thug” into the back of a police vehicle, “please don’t be too nice.”
So today’s police officers inherit a history that largely depended on force and oppression to conquer the North American continent; they grow up in a culture that values strength and toughness over negotiation and compromise; their entertainments, from sports to video games to the cop shows on TV, are relentlessly violent; and the nation’s chief law enforcement officer encourages them with a wink and a nod to be tough guys.
With this background Black officers have as much motivation for violence as white ones. It’s almost surprising that the great majority of police officers behave honorably.
Still, it’s not clear where — or if — our infatuation with violence intersects with our history of racism.
But as a thought experiment, try imagining five burly Black police officers beating a white man to death.
No, I can’t do it either.
