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In the spring of 1096, during the First Crusade, Christian crusaders and local mobs unleashed brutal violence on Jewish communities in the German cities of Speyer, Worms, Mainz and Cologne. Thousands of Jews were slaughtered, forced to convert or driven to suicide to avoid baptism. This massacre, one of many acts of collective violence fueled by religious and ethnic hatred, left deep scars on Jewish history.
A chronicle from around 1140 recounts the massacre of Jews who had sought refuge in the archbishop’s palace in Mainz. In a lament, the chronicler writes, “Why did the heavens not grow dark and the stars not withdraw their brightness? Why did the moon and the sun not darken when, on the third of Sivan, on a Tuesday, eleven hundred souls were killed, among them so many infants and sucklings who had not transgressed or sinned, so many poor, innocent souls?”
This passage reflects the chronicler’s profound anguish and crisis of faith. Faced with such overwhelming cruelty, he questions why the universe remained silent, why the cosmic order did not respond to the immense suffering. His plea—Why do the heavens not weep?—captures the timeless struggle to reconcile human cruelty with divine silence, a question that surfaces repeatedly in the wake of genocides and mass violence.
The chronicler’s cry is a powerful reminder of how people seek meaning in the face of atrocities, expecting cosmic justice or moral intervention where there is none. Whether during the Crusades, the Holocaust or more recent genocides, the question of why such hatred and violence are allowed to persist without divine or cosmic reckoning underscores a sense of abandonment and the painful absence of justice. It speaks to the broader theme of how societies rationalize collective violence, as victims and witnesses grapple with the enduring silence of higher powers in the face of human cruelty.
In the chapter “The Metaphysics of Indian-Hating” from The Confidence Man, Herman Melville offers a sharp, satirical commentary on how white Americans justified the violence inflicted on the continent’s Indigenous population. This chapter examines the rationalizations behind group hatred and violence, connecting it to deeper societal beliefs and contradictions.
The chapter unfolds as a fictional conversation between Colonel John Moredock, a frontier figure and an unnamed narrator. Moredock is portrayed as a relentless “Indian-hater” who hunts Native Americans to avenge the murder of his family. While his actions are presented as rooted in personal tragedy, his obsessive, unrelenting violence against an entire group exposes a broader, irrational hatred that transcends personal revenge. Melville uses Moredock’s character to reveal the darker aspects of collective violence, where such hatred becomes ingrained in society’s moral and philosophical outlook.
The title, “The Metaphysics of Indian-Hating,” is deeply ironic. By invoking the term “metaphysics,” Melville suggests that white America treated its hatred of Native Americans as a philosophical or existential truth—something fundamental, almost natural. Yet, the real “metaphysics” of this hatred is built on prejudice, violence and fear rather than any logical or moral foundation. This irony exposes the hollow reasoning behind the genocidal attitudes toward Native Americans and critiques the way such beliefs were woven into the American worldview.
Through this lens, Melville critiques not just Moredock but American society at large, underscoring the contradictions between the nation’s ideals of liberty and equality and its justification of the extermination of Indigenous peoples. This commentary echoes broader inquiries into the roots of group violence—how societies rationalize their hatred through flawed philosophies, systemic oppression and dehumanization, themes that resonate in the study of racism and prejudice throughout history.
Many of my students mistakenly believe that the academic focus on inequality, prejudice and racial violence is a recent development. In reality, scholars have been grappling with these issues for well over a century, seeking to understand the deep-rooted causes of racial prejudice, group violence and the mechanisms that enable large-scale hatred and dehumanization.
In 1900, W. E. B. Du Bois famously declared that the problem of the color line would be the defining issue of the 20th century. His books, such as The Philadelphia Negro and Black Reconstruction, laid the groundwork for understanding structural racism, showing how systemic exclusion in education, employment and politics perpetuated racial inequality. Du Bois also explored the idea of a racial caste system in the United States, particularly in The Souls of Black Folk (1903), in which he argued that America’s racial hierarchy mirrored the rigid social divisions found in caste systems. This racial caste system was upheld through laws, customs and violence, ensuring that Black Americans remained at the bottom of the social and economic hierarchy.
Sociologists in the early 20th century, particularly the Chicago School, also examined how urbanization and migration influenced race relations. Scholars like Robert E. Park described the “racial caste” in America as a closed system that prevented social mobility, reinforcing racial inequalities. This analysis was expanded by sociologist Oliver Cromwell Cox, who, in Caste, Class and Race (1948), emphasized the role of capitalism in maintaining racial hierarchies. Cox argued that racial inequality in the United States was not just about social status but also about economic exploitation, as capitalism relied on the control of Black labor.
As these structural explanations gained prominence, scholars like Gunnar Myrdal in An American Dilemma (1944) stressed the contradictions between America’s democratic ideals and the reality of systemic racism, showing how legal, economic and educational systems reinforced racial inequality despite constitutional guarantees of equality.
Alongside these structural analyses, social psychologists explored the psychological roots of prejudice and group violence. Gordon Allport, in The Nature of Prejudice (1954), examined how prejudice is reinforced through socialization and cultural norms, introducing the concept of scapegoating—where dominant groups project their fears and insecurities onto vulnerable minorities. For instance, during economic downturns like the Great Depression, Black Americans and other marginalized groups were blamed for societal problems such as unemployment.
Projection, a psychological concept developed by Sigmund Freud, was also applied to understand racist and antisemitic violence. Perpetrators of violence often displaced their own fears and insecurities onto marginalized groups, justifying hatred and dehumanization. For example, Nazis projected their fears of racial purity and decline onto Jews, casting them as corrupting forces, while white supremacists in the United States used similar logic to justify violence against Black Americans.
The Milgram obedience experiments (1961) and Zimbardo’s Stanford prison experiment (1971) further illustrated how social conditions, group pressure and authority figures can lead otherwise moral individuals to commit acts of cruelty. These experiments demonstrated how dehumanization and group dynamics contribute to violence against marginalized groups.
Religious and cultural frameworks also played a significant role in explaining racism and antisemitism. In Europe, Christian anti-Judaism laid the groundwork for modern racial antisemitism, which the Nazis exploited to justify the Holocaust. In the United States, cultural and religious beliefs, such as the so-called curse of Ham, were used to justify the enslavement and segregation of Black Americans.
In the early 20th century, pseudoscientific ideas about race, particularly through the eugenics movement, provided further justification for segregation, anti-Black violence and forced sterilization in the United States. These ideas were also central to Nazi racial science, which portrayed Jews as biologically inferior, fueling the genocidal policies of the Holocaust.
In recent years, Isabel Wilkerson revived the caste analogy in her 2020 book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents. Wilkerson argues that the United States operates under a hidden caste system where race determines caste status, drawing parallels between American racial hierarchies, the caste system in India and Nazi Germany’s racial policies. She demonstrates how caste is maintained through rigid social barriers, such as housing, employment and law enforcement, and continues to manifest in issues like police violence, mass incarceration and economic inequality.
In the later 20th century, critical race theory, developed by scholars like Derrick Bell and Kimberlé Crenshaw, examined how racism is embedded in American legal and political systems. Psychologists also contributed to the understanding of group identity through Henri Tajfel’s social identity theory, which explains how individuals derive a sense of self-worth from their group membership and often dehumanize those outside their group.
The aftermath of World War II and the Holocaust led scholars like Theodor Adorno and the Frankfurt School to develop the authoritarian personality theory, which linked rigid, hierarchical worldviews, socialized within patriarchal families, to racist and antisemitic beliefs. Their work sought to explain how ordinary individuals in Nazi Germany could support or participate in atrocities, and it offered insights into similar dynamics in the United States, where segregation and authoritarian views were prevalent.
Finally, social scientists also examined how racism could be weaponized for political ends. In both the United States and Europe, politicians exploited racial fears to manipulate populations and consolidate power, as seen in the use of antisemitism by the Nazis to unify Germany under a fascist ideology that dehumanized Jews or by white Southern politicians to undercut any possibilities of an alliance between poor whites and impoverished Blacks.
In contemporary discussions of prejudice and discrimination, there is a strong emphasis on the legacies of colonialism and the role of capitalism in shaping and sustaining racial and ethnic inequalities. These explanations argue that modern forms of prejudice and systemic discrimination are not merely remnants of past injustices but are actively intertwined with global economic systems and historical power structures rooted in colonialism.
Legacies of Colonialism
One of the key frameworks for understanding modern prejudice is the enduring impact of European colonialism. Colonial powers, through their domination of large parts of Africa, Asia, the Americas and the Caribbean, established racial hierarchies that continue to shape global and national power dynamics. Colonialism classified people by race, justified exploitation through notions of racial superiority and institutionalized inequality, creating lasting structures of privilege and marginalization.
Thinkers like Frantz Fanon, Edward Said and Homi K. Bhabha developed postcolonial theory to analyze how colonial ideologies—such as the racial hierarchy and the “civilizing mission”—left a legacy of inequality and marginalization. Colonial powers established social systems where the colonizers occupied a superior position and the colonized were considered inferior. These dynamics justified the exploitation of Indigenous peoples and resources, entrenching ideas of racial superiority that persisted long after colonial rule formally ended.
Postcolonial scholars also argue that although colonial rule has ended, its systems of inequality endure. Racial hierarchies established through forced labor, segregation and racial classification continue to influence countries like South Africa, the United States and many Latin American nations. The poverty and underdevelopment that plague many formerly colonized countries are seen as part of a colonial legacy, while former colonial powers continue to benefit from the wealth extracted during that period.
Capitalism and Racial Inequality
The role of capitalism in perpetuating racial and ethnic inequalities is another central element in modern theories of prejudice. Scholars like Cedric Robinson, who helped develop the concept of racial capitalism, argue that capitalism has always been racialized. From its beginnings, capitalism relied on the exploitation of non-European peoples, particularly through slavery and colonialism. The forced labor of enslaved Africans and the extraction of resources from colonized lands generated enormous wealth for European economies, which was justified through racial ideologies.
Racial capitalism emphasizes how economic systems and racial hierarchies are mutually reinforcing. The exploitation of Black and Indigenous labor was not only economically profitable but justified through ideologies of racial inferiority. In the United States, the legacy of slavery continued through segregation and discrimination in labor markets, housing and education, leaving lasting economic disparities that persist today.
Neocolonialism and Global Inequality
Contemporary analyses of discrimination also focus on neocolonialism, which describes how former colonial powers and multinational corporations maintain control over the economies and politics of formerly colonized nations. Even after formal colonialism ended, wealthier, predominantly white nations and corporations continue to dominate global trade, finance and labor markets, perpetuating economic dependency and inequality.
Economic dominance is often accompanied by cultural dominance, as the values and norms of former colonial powers continue to shape societies in formerly colonized nations, reinforcing inequality.
The contemporary emphasis on the legacies of colonialism and the role of capitalism in explaining prejudice and discrimination mark a significant shift from earlier theories that focused on individual attitudes and psychological mechanisms. Many scholars today argue that racial and ethnic inequalities are not simply the result of interpersonal bias but are deeply rooted in historical processes like colonization and sustained by global capitalism.
However, this perspective faces several criticisms. For one thing, it risks oversimplifying complex social dynamics by attributing too much causal power to colonialism and capitalism. While these forces have undoubtedly shaped racial and ethnic inequalities, reducing all forms of prejudice to these factors can obscure other important influences, such as cultural, religious and psychological factors.
In addition, not all societies with significant histories of prejudice fit the colonial framework. Ethnic and racial conflicts in regions like the Middle East, Southeast Asia or Europe often predate or exist independently of colonialism or capitalism. By focusing almost exclusively on historical and economic factors, this approach may neglect the role of individual biases, interpersonal relationships and social psychology in fostering prejudice.
Emphasizing capitalism as the primary driver of inequality not only reifies capitalism (making it seem like an unchanging system incapable of change); it risks overlooking other factors, such as nationalism, ideology, religion and even psychological dynamics like in-group/out-group biases.
Another criticism is that stressing structural forces like colonialism and capitalism diminishes the role of individual agency and personal responsibility and the internal decisions made by former colonies. By framing prejudice as a systemic issue, there is a risk of absolving individuals from accountability for their actions or attitudes.
Furthermore, this perspective can underestimate the progress made in reducing racial inequality. While systemic discrimination persists, focusing primarily on colonial legacies and capitalism may overlook significant advances in civil rights, legal reforms and shifts in social attitudes.
This structural or systemic focus can foster a pessimistic view that fails to recognize positive changes, such as the abolition of segregation, the growth of multiculturalism and the increasing acceptance of diversity. This may even discourage efforts to build on these gains by presenting racism as an almost intractable problem rooted in centuries-old systems.
There is also concern that an overwhelming focus on systemic structures can foster political paralysis. If racism and inequality are viewed as the products of deep-rooted global systems, they may seem too entrenched to dismantle, discouraging local or individual efforts to address everyday discrimination. Recognizing historical and structural roots is important, but it should not eclipse the importance of grassroots efforts and practical actions to combat prejudice on an immediate level.
Another critique is that this perspective tends to neglect other forms of intersectionality, such as those involving gender, sexuality or disability. By centering colonialism and capitalism, the approach may inadvertently sideline how other forms of oppression—like sexism and homophobia—intersect with racial discrimination.
Finally, this framework runs the risk of politicizing racism and tying it too closely to anticapitalist or anticolonial political agendas. Framing inequality primarily in terms of colonialism and capitalism risks alienating those who view the problem more through the lens of moral and ethical concerns about human dignity, fairness and justice, rather than as part of a broader critique of economic systems.
The frameworks for understanding group hatred and collective violence have undergone a profound transformation over the past century. Throughout much of the 20th century, many social scientists focused primarily on individual attitudes, psychological mechanisms and interpersonal biases to explain prejudice and group violence. Theories such as scapegoating and authoritarianism dominated the field, emphasizing how personal psychological traits and social dynamics contributed to racism and ethnic conflict.
In contrast, contemporary approaches have moved beyond these individual-centered explanations. Today’s dominant theories focus on the structural legacies of colonialism and the role of capitalism, marking a significant shift in how we understand racial and ethnic prejudice. Scholars now emphasize that racism is not merely the result of personal bias but is deeply rooted in historical processes, particularly the lasting impact of colonial exploitation and the entrenchment of racial hierarchies within capitalist systems.
This shift from a focus on individual bias to an emphasis on systemic inequality reflects a growing recognition that understanding prejudice requires addressing the historical and economic forces that have shaped global power dynamics. The legacies of colonialism, the economic exploitation of marginalized groups and the ways in which capitalism sustains these hierarchies now dominate explanations of racial and ethnic conflict and inequality.
This transition from psychological to structural explanations represents a broader and more global perspective on racism. It acknowledges that to truly understand and dismantle systemic discrimination, we must confront the historical and economic systems that have long sustained it. This evolving framework not only deepens our understanding of prejudice but also challenges us to think more critically about the enduring legacies of the past and the structures of power that shape the present.
