I always thought of the phrase “divide and conquer” as a fun strategy that my family and I would use. It was a plan for max efficiency, shared responsibility, and maybe even friendly competition when we were trying to make a pit stop at the grocery store as speedy as possible. I never thought of it as a form of mass segregation and debilitation.
In reading Trevor Noah’s memoir, Born A Crime, the narrative seriously caused me to rethink, not only the simple phrase, but also the privilege I had in my ignorance to how a declaration could hold so much power. In South Africa, there was a law called the Immorality Act, which banned the interracial relationships and intercourse; at this very notion, Noah’s birth was very much a crime.
In conjunction of the Immorality Act, laws were in place to segregate the diverse communities of South Africa. The most notable cultures present in Noah’s narrative are the Xhosa, which his mother is, the Zulu, and the whites. The white government took advantage of South Africa’s majority black population, dividing the races from each other, and allowing the division to cause enough conflict that, with monitoring, they would eventually destroy each other.
Noah’s mother was smarter than that, however. She knew that the power that whites had over her would only last if she allowed herself to be divided. Patricia found value in language, the technology that served to connect and separate the different black communities. Just as Douglas states in his narrative, knowledge is one of the most powerful tools to have, and everyone has the right to learn.
The two, bright men, both recognize the power of language, and how, if used correctly, it can alter other’s understanding and perception. In Noah writing his memoir and Douglas writing his narrative, the stories shared continue to bridge the gap of knowledge and ignorance that people have on subjects, and that is the greatest thing they can do with the power and platform that they worked for and earned.