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The Quest for Purity is Inherently Violent

Paige Brewer
Class of 2015
One of my professors this semester spoke this statement during our class, “Youth in Jewish Fiction and Film.” We had just finished discussing Philip Roth’s The Plot Against America, a story of alternate history in which on the eve of World War II, Americans elect the aviator Charles Lindbergh instead of Roosevelt as president. Lindbergh was famous for his ardent isolationism during World War II, and in the novel, he conducts a series of anti-Semitic reforms throughout the country on a campaign to “Keep America Out of the Jewish War.” The story is told through the eyes of Philip, a young boy growing up in a Jewish family and community in Newark. Amidst the anti-Semitic chaos surrounding him, Philip struggles with his identity as both American and Jew, reminding us all of the struggle for any minorities that exist outside America’s cultural norm to find a home in society.

I couldn’t help but recall an article I read while researching my senior honors thesis. In “Language, Culture, and National Identity”, historian Eric Hobsbawm states:

The concept of a single, exclusive, and unchanging ethnic or cultural or other identity is a dangerous piece of brainwashing. Human mental identities are not like shoes, of which we can only wear one pair at a time. We are all multi-dimensional beings.

I referenced this quote during class, acknowledging the fact that Philip chose to title the novel The Plot Against America rather than America’s Plot Against the Jews or something like that. This is because, I argued, Roth wanted to draw attention the real “plot” against America—the idea that the only people who really “belong” in America are those of a single racial, ethnic, and religious tradition, and that all other groups should either be expelled or relegated to the bottom strata of society. This plot, or what Hobsbawm calls a “dangerous piece of brainwashing”, is what makes The Plot Against America so timely. Our country has struggled to be welcoming and equally accessible to all types of Americans, and despite many positive reforms, current events prove that we’re still struggling.  

I fell in love with American history early on. By second grade, I had memorized three-fourths of the American presidents in order. In seventh grade, I asked for the musical 1776 for Christmas and can still sing along to all the songs. What had really captured my heart, though, was a cultivated myth that instilled in me images of strong and moral leaders who had created the best country possible for me to call home. They’re called founding fathers for a reason—they had forged for me a political and cultural family.

When I entered high school, I was captured by new images—those of Martin Luther King, Eleanor Roosevelt, Sergeant Shriver, and the like. From their stories, I came to believe that there was a part of this American family devoted to improving society and the world at large, motivated by altruism and a strong moral compass.

All the lives and stories I learned remained with me as I started watching the news and thinking more critically about social issues. How could my ideas about the heroes of American history match up to what I was seeing on the news? What about our imperialist, colonial past—and our xenophobic, American-centered present? What about our historical mistreatment of African slaves, Native Americans, and immigrants—and our present discrimination against blacks and Latin Americans?

My professor’s response to my comment about The Plot Against America was, “The quest for purity is inherently violent.” Most systems of socialization, including the American one, attempt to create a purity of thought in society. Purity is attractive and easy to digest. That’s why we teach it to children in schools. That’s why during scary times like war, we hold onto it.


But as I’m learning more about relations between peoples—whether between the Palestinians and the Israelis, the Russians and the Ukrainians, or the police officers and rioters in Ferguson—I continue to see examples that support my professor’s statement. The purity we try to implement or maintain results in a system of violence. We create and promote this system when we consider our society and ourselves as “pure” and foreign others as impure. Not only do we hold ourselves to expectations we can hardly fulfill. We isolate ourselves from “different” others and fail to see how they can improve our world.

Paige Brewer is a senior McConnell Scholar studying political science and philosophy. She is from Wilder, Ky.