Creating Genocide

Today I watched a documentary about Nuremberg Trials on channel 5*. It had been hanging around on my Sky + box for a while as no one else in the household appreciates me watching documentaries that involve death or destruction. But it is the lawyer in me I like to look at the legalities of what is done and what is achieved at trial.

It reminded me of another development in my novel.

The Freelanders live in the mountains. They are not a party to any of the countries in the continent or what lies behind them. I called them Freelanders for that reason and it is a name that still sits well with me today.

But I was never quite sure of what had happened to them; something had happened to force them up into the mountains, to make them have such a hatred of the people of the lowlands that

Photo by Ian on Unsplash

they would never seek an alliance or trade with any of them.

They simply wanted to be left alone.

But in that solitude, there also had to be a resentment that would make us wonder what side they would be on in the impending war.

What could cause such resentment? Only one thing. The irrationality of prejudice.

If we are hated for a reason, we may not agree with the reasons but there will always be an element of understanding. We are all humans so if you hate me because I don't like lobster or think the Twilight Saga is the worst thing ever (I do) then I can understand it. You hate me because I don't agree with your opinions or tastes. Those things are so fundamental to who we are that there must be a common understanding.

But hate me because I am a woman, a Jew, a black man or other people of colour? That is only driven by emotions that are irrational. You hate me because you think I am inferior and that is unforgivable.

And so, it evolved that in some distant past this prejudice against the Freelander's as they are now known forced them into the mountains where they sat glaring back at their enemies with equal loathing.

They were not worth the fertile lowlands, they were forced to scrape out their existence in the most inhabitable part of this land.

And why?

Because they were simply not good enough.

So, into this tale, I weave a painful, but undeclared history, something that may have happened if the Nazi plans of Jewish only homeland had happened.

And the prejudice still runs through the veins of the people who cast them out as it is deeply embedded in the royal family who they absolutely believe are telling them the truth.

In the Second World War, the Jews were compared to rats.

In Rwanda the Tutsi were cockroaches.

In my story, Queen Tiba compares the freelancers to maggots, but then hastily corrects herself recognizing that even maggots have a purpose in breaking down dead meat.

But the prejudice is still there, and it runs deep in their veins, tissue and marrow. Into this prejudice, the young princess is born.

Her saving grace is that she is not taught history and does not know the tales that the prejudice concocts to justify their ignorance.

So, she is free to make her own choice. And that choice is going to go against all that she was told.

Ending this post, a thought has occurred to me...what colour skin should all the players have? Should it be different for each country?

Or should it be never an issue of colour rather an issue of people?

I'm not sure.

In some ways, colour makes the issues easier to relate to.

But do I want to take the easy path?

I quickly answer No.

This novel started out about simple things and now I want it to be about characters and emotions. I want it not to be about cut and dry issues I want you to read the words and feel it is not as simple as you think.

Because it is not.

It never is.