The racial stooge as impediment
by Dr. M. M. Gopal
THOSE who dream of living in a perfectly harmonious society, entirely free of racial prejudice and oppression, may well be dreaming of an unattainable ideal. But an ideal, even an impossible one, can provide direction, energy and, above all, clarity. Part of this clarity is insight into what impedes progress towards the ideal. In what follows I identify one such impediment. Perhaps the most celebrated instance of the racial stooge is Uncle Tom himself, whose venerable presence elsewhere may be witnessed not simply in the spheres of culture and politics but, alas, even in the hallowed walls of the university. I hasten to add, however, that, in our ethnically diverse society, it is both inaccurate and unjust to classify all, or even most, racial stooges as Toms. This is not to say that Tom is not a significant force here. Indeed, it is he who usually stands over the other stooges. But I will focus primarily on the latter, mindful of their numbers and their peculiar condition in academe. Let us address ourselves first of all to the development of the personality of the typical stooge. We begin our discussion with this speculative section, not from misplaced reverence for any academic tradition, but to provide some little proof to the stooges themselves, lest they be offended by what we intend to write about them, that we have taken some modest pains to understand how they have come to be what they are. If, once we suspend our loathing for the stooge, we bring ourselves to observing him and thinking about him, we have to make a number of concessions in his direction: that his behavioural patterns are remarkably consistent, that underlying such patterns must be emotional resources to cope, that he undoubtedly has rationales for his manner of existence, that he especially must know how to live with himself. In short, he has an integrated mental outlook, a mode of consciousness that is distinctive. This outlook, this mode of consciousness, the very being of the racial stooge, all these point to a particular personality type. How, then, is it likely to develop? We can think of its growth in terms of three distinct stages: an amorphous stage, an autonomous stage, and an idiosyncratic stage. The amorphous stage is one of malleability. That is, the potential for development is contradictory and may proceed in any of several directions. Because of the contradictory tensions arising during the period of malleability, the personality is fragile and unstable. At this stage the individual, still only a potential stooge, is especially vulnerable to being discovered, snared and launched on his future course. The cultivation of the personality at the amorphous stage leads to the second stage. We speak of cultivation to emphasize the role of an external force in the formation of the stooge's personality. Now the role of the external force is experienced, and it is experienced essentially as the procurement of pleasure: that is, as the release from the tensions of contradiction of the preceding stage. But this very experience of release generates a paradoxical result in that it ties the experiencer through bonds of affectivity to the releaser. In actuality, then, this second stage into which the personality is released is not at all an independent phase of development. It is sponsored and managed, with the controller of the process standing apart from and above the released individual. Thus, only in a restricted sense do we dub the second stage one of autonomy. The released individual, now a fledgling stooge, begins to experience a newfound freedom and to take pleasure in its exercise. For him the freedom is real enough, in his subjective universe it is almost the only thing he knows. The dominance on his horizons is so total that little room is left for doubt. It takes some time for the novelty of the experience to wear off, at the end of which period development shifts into the next stage. Here a limited insight is achieved regarding his objective position, in that he now becomes aware that his autonomy is no longer as real as he had earlier imagined and is in fact dependent on external influence. But the mode of consciousness at this stage is still constricted. For instance, it lacks an ethical aspect in that there is no insight into the real nature of the relationship between the personality and the source of control; secondly, and partly in consequence of the above, there is no aversion to the factuality of this relationship, which is accepted as part of the natural order of things; and thirdly, there is no vision of an alternative to the hierarchical scheme embodied in that relationship, this blindness itself being the outcome of a cognitive deficit. Indeed, in the absence of the foregoing dimensions, the stooge gladly and enthusiastically accepts the relationship, doubling and trebling his efforts to consolidate it. In the zeal with which the undertaking is pursued and the accelerated pace at which energy is expended, the unique features of personality are manifested. Hence the aptness of the term "idiosyncratic" in characterizing this stage of development marked by the appearance of the full-fledged stooge. This background helps to explain a cardinal principle in the internal functioning of the stooge. He incorporates significant aspects of the perspective of others, specifically those in whose debt he thinks he stands. In part the tendency to incorporate is due to the very makeup of his personality. Here we will limit ourselves to traits which are relevant. Chief among these is a general weakness of character, a dominant trait that renders him ideally suited for subservience. This overall attribute allows him to experience what he lacks, namely strength. By being receptive to the projects of others, whose power he perceives, rightly or mistakenly, to be real, he fills a vacuum in his own composition. The change, however, is not a genuine transformation, not an Adlerian movement from inferiority to superiority. It never sits easily with the underlying personality pattern, mainly because the stooge is aware of the sham, that he wears a mask, a borrowed disguise behind which to hide. This internal ambiguity reveals itself in outward forms, notably in the stooge's attempts to bully and bluster. Such attempts are expressions of the power he experiences in taking on the borrowed role. But because the power is counterfeit, because it is not really his to exercise, because its exercise by a pretender carries attendant risks, he is careful to curtail its use. Always bullying and blustering are directed against those the stooge perceives to be defenceless or those against whom he is assured of protection. The stooge's fondness for exercising a borrowed power, along with the awareness that it is not really his, is an ambiguity that highlights a cluster of traits anchored in cunning and deceit. While cunning and deceit are not the exclusive attributes of the stooge, they are nonetheless, in his case, central characteristics: the marks of a weakling. These qualities serve the stooge well in discharging his responsibilities, responsibilities which relate to the roles he is expected to occupy as he incorporates his master's perspective. It is an invariable truth that wherever racism exists, the beneficiary of the system tends to deny both the objective fact of its existence and the concomitant fact that the system redounds to his advantage. Because the stooge incorporates his master's perspective he is able to identify with him with the greatest ease and, consequently, to undertake the business of denial with corresponding facility. This is doubly convenient for the racial master: he himself is relieved of a most unpleasant task and, by registering denial by proxy, thanks to the faithful stooge, he accomplishes his objective much more effectively. In placing his services at the disposal of his master, the stooge assumes two complementary roles, one of which is that of propagandist. In word and deed he propagandises on behalf of his master. For him the setting in which he functions is ideal, he cannot imagine a better place. He is the perfectly contented man --- at least in respect of one particular. His handshake, his smile, even the way he sits at his desk, all these bear it out. The other role he assumes on behalf of his master is constabulary in nature. Since he himself is perfectly contented with the way the system operates, those of his hue who are not are necessarily an affront to him --- and must be dealt with accordingly. This is what energises him and accounts for his zeal in upholding the rules of the racial status quo. Any infraction of those rules must be detected, reported, and visited with a penalty. He is a good constable, this racial stooge. Given this mode of existence, one is moved to ask a most intriguing question: How does the stooge live with himself? After all, a life of cunning, deceit and mendacity is bound to take its toll on an ordinary human being. But we need to remind ourselves that the stooge is not your average citizen, even though he generally passes himself off as one. He is exceptional in his degeneracy. To understand him demands an entry into the domain of abnormal psychology. To begin with, the stooge is armoured against the hazards of his occupational enterprise. He is protected by a series of deficits, among which an underdeveloped superego and an impoverished capacity for guilt and shame stand out. To these are added the teachings of his master which he has incorporated as a further shield. Even so, though, it is doubtful whether all of the foregoing can prove a sufficient guard against his conflicts. For one thing, the fact of his colour, and that of his family, is constantly before him. How is he to totally escape this gnawing presence? Omitting those obvious courses a vile man may take to hide from himself --- the company of fellow scoundrels, sensual gratification, more vileness --- we can visualize several modes of escape, techniques for rationalising away what he does, tricks he plays with himself. Let us list a few. The easiest is probably not to dwell on what he does. By shifting attention away from the moral implications of his habitual activity, he is able to salve his conscience at a superficial level. But it is a curious characteristic of the mind that what is toyed away in this manner returns at unguarded moments to plague the wrongdoer. Guilt surfaces in dreams, manifests itself in sleeplessness, lapses of concentration and memory, and vague pains and aches. Clearly this is not the best expedient for fending off conscience. A second possibility is to blame those who have fallen victim to his machinations. By placing them in the wrong, he is able to achieve a measure of self-justification. Where, for instance, he can establish to his satisfaction that a person has been recalcitrant or repeatedly rebellious against norms considered by his master as sacrosanct, he has little difficulty resorting to this device. A third expedient available to the stooge is to cram his leisurely moments as much as possible, since it is at vacant times that guilt is likely to make its more annoying assaults, even in the case of one as degraded as he is. A busy schedule helps to ward off the nuisance, at least to the extent of tempering its edge. Yet another way to gain relief is to count the spoils accumulated from a life of immorality, a career of stooping and licking. These tend to focus attention on themselves, to distract it from the means by which they were gained. They have the added advantage of reassuring him that his efforts have been fruitful, these tangible reminders of achievement. In a morally sane society can it be acceptable to turn one's back on the stooge? Is he simply a curse upon himself? What does he objectively represent? To begin with, the stooge is a subjugated being, an object of domination. The overall role into which he has been cast is not of his own choosing. Whatever he does, whatever the nature of his operations, wicked though they be, they never exceed the approved limits. Always, he slaves within a permitted latitude. He is an instrument in the hands of others, a mere tool. The essence of his subordination is revealed in a peculiar blindness to which the stooge is liable. Because of the very nature of the latitude accorded him, which allows him a certain range to spin and weave (but never to create), the stooge imagines he is free. And behind the scenes he is privy to puny plots and petty schemes and treated to the nods and presumed cordiality of the dominator, which he mistakenly takes to be signs of equality. The blindness to which he is subject precludes him from even realizing the fact of his subordination. The dominator himself is handicapped by his practice of domination. All power corrupts and racial power corrupts perniciously. The pleasures of domination, along with its spoils, lead to the creation of their own justifications and these go into the formation of the consciousness of the dominator. With the passage of time he comes to develop a deep-seated, almost subconscious contempt for the stooge. Domination sets in motion a vicious circle which imprisons the dominator. It is a practice which brings him into communion only with those who bow and cringe in his presence. Consequently, he sees no other members of the outgroup and is quite sure that what he sees is all there is. Over the years he has, on the basis of the evidence to which he has been exposed, built up models of what the outgroup is like and these models now guide his thinking. Dislodging them is no easy task. He has fed on them for too long. They are the source of his habituation. In order to highlight who he is and to delineate facets of his inner world, our discussion may have focussed inordinately on the racial stooge and is therefore in danger of conveying an erroneous impression, namely that the stooge exists in isolation. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. Wherever the stooge exists, wherever he flourishes, he exists and flourishes within an elaborate context of kindred practices. It is these practices which must command attention, even if they are concealed and covert. By eliminating such practices, we eliminate the need for the stooge and move a few steps closer to a cherished but unattainable ideal. If, as we stated earlier, it is Uncle Tom who stands above the others, who stands over Tom? To whose bidding is he subject? These questions, so relevant for understanding the phenomenon of the racial stooge, are likely to become increasingly so as we move deeper and deeper into the era of globalisation. Finally, this account of mine, written from the standpoint of an opponent of racial stooges, not one of whom was ever consulted on his style of living, is necessarily partial. A critic from the ranks of the latter would be perfectly justified in asking me: How much can an outsider like you really know about the life of a professional racial stooge? Can you imagine what we stooges have to put up with to succeed at our career? Do you know the kicks, the slights, the years of crawling that go into the making of an accomplished racial stooge? What appreciation do you show for those consummate arts which so distinguish a top-level Uncle Tom? These omissions are genuine shortcomings in my account. I therefore urge all racial stooges, including top-level Uncle Toms, to correct me where I have erred.
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