the Guardian
George Floyd should be alive today
Floyd is not a martyr. Talking about him as such is a way of creating myths. No, if justice were true, he would simply be “What exactly does the enchantment of” responsibility “do? Photo: Chandan Khanna / AFP / Getty Images Tuesday’s show surrounding the verdict of Derek Chauvin’s trial felt like a hand approaching to exert a calming pressure on the masses like a weighted blanket. There are few things to say that can be considered truly revealing, other than being explicit about how perverse and orchestrated these events feel. The hours before the verdict consist of filling references from each news item. Here’s what we know so far. What you need to know. There are minutes left. Probability of a conviction. Which makes this process different. As much as the ubiquitous surveillance made possible, not the hot and sustained protest. Testimony from black journalists. Understanding that in the coming days they will be given even more mental weight, regardless of the result. All this was pronounced solemnly, respectfully, with similar feelings echoing on social networks, however the anticipation generated was closer to that of a major sporting event. Writer and comedian Natasha Rothwell touched on a gloomy, crushing irony when she posted on Twitter: “I can’t wait to find out if my life matters! 🙏🏾🤞🏾🙏🏾. “When the final verdict of the jury was read live, the camera remained patiently trained on Chauvin, with a disposable blue mask covering his face, his eyes scanning from left to right. In moments like these, the notion of orchestration comes to mind. How else should we interpret these images? The uninterrupted, static image as the judge recites the jury’s decision, the drama of trying to interpret a reaction from Chauvin. Quiet and unadorned sensationalism. People will write about Chauvin’s body language and the lack of feeling in his eyes. It is less invigorating to say that he looked like a normal person, which, of course, makes it all the more horrible. In the nearly year since George Floyd’s state-recognized execution, intense law enforcement has focused on abolishing the police, a cluttered, gargantuan enterprise that would fundamentally change the structure of the United States if adopted. The fact that no one can definitively say what a post-police world would look like has been fodder for skeptics, conservatives and police apologists to demonstrate the alleged stupidity of the liberals and the left. Indeed, on Tuesday, before and after the verdict, those who opposed the abolition mocked supporters who hailed Chauvin’s indictment. The feeling is “Oh, now you believe in the system.” President Biden called Floyd’s family to support him and congratulated him on his conviction. House spokeswoman Nancy Pelosi, once detached from reality, thanked George Floyd for his “sacrifice” in seeking justice. In the company of the Floyd family were relatives of Emmett Till, making even clearer the unbroken legacy of the black crime so intensely rejected, so burdensome and voyeuristic debated by this country. What can be said about this system and its pastors and the tacit embrace of this country other than to point out that even the president in the meeting could only make a phone call? What exactly does the enchantment of “responsibility” do? At a news conference Tuesday night, Biden said Chauvin’s indictment was a reminder that no one is above the law. Not even the state’s supreme attack dogs, the police, who see themselves more in an American like the Kenosha Kyle Rittenhouse pistol than George Floyd. In such moments, people are fixed by the law’s ability to do justice. There is something disgusting about everyone’s show. Waiting, covering the news, details about what constitutes criminal behavior or not, enlightening public officials to hear their citizens, obsessing with the death and hagiography of those killed, emotionally ruining the lives of black people and waiting to reveal our anxieties and fears. But at some point, we talk in circles or in the past. I have no doubt of the statistics, which are insane in their simultaneous accuracy and irrelevance, according to which the police kill many people and are rarely charged. To hear such a thing means to be confronted with a notion beyond the obvious. I’m starting to get tired, as many of my friends already have, of allies and good intentions and the perpetual delay of common decency. I’m done pampering strangers who want to play the game: “Do I care about that?” In such moments, people are fixed by the law’s ability to do justice. Is there much to understand at this time? I guess the question assumes that everything was confusing at first. For me, it reminds me of Achille Mbembe’s 2019 book, Necropolitics. In it, the Cameroonian philosopher and political theorist writes about the idea of ”necropolitics”, which concerns sovereignty and how it is linked to the state that exercises control over mortality. Those living under necropolitical regimes – as black Americans do – face weapons and state violence that creates, in Mbembe’s words, “dead worlds, new and unique forms of social existence in which vast populations are subjected to living conditions. which confers on them the status of living and dead ”. George Floyd exemplified Mbembe’s concept long before his death. Every black soul does it. But he is not a martyr. Talking about him as such is a way of creating myths. No, if justice were true, it would simply be. Which means I agree with the president on one thing: George Floyd should be alive today. Many, many others should be too. Nicholas Russell is a freelance writer