Cho's Violent Crusade Ripped from the Middle Ages
Title
Cho's Violent Crusade Ripped from the Middle Ages
Description
As a medieval historian, one rarely feels that his expertise can shed some light on a current debate. But I teach at Virginia Tech.
Now that the semester is over and there is time to reflect, I have been struck by how "medieval" the events of this past April seem -- both Seung-Hui Cho's violence and our collective revulsion to it.
In the snippets of Cho's "manifesto" that have been released to the public, there is rhetoric of (likely imagined) persecution of the innocent, violent defense of the helpless, and Cho's perception of himself as a martyr by appropriating explicitly Christian imagery -- Jesus himself, the cross, and even the torments the saints endured for their faith (burning like St. Polycarp, suffocating like St. Cecilia and beheading like St. Denis, etc.).
Even Cho's oft-repeated statement that "Jesus loves crucifying me" reinforces the idea of martyrdom, suggesting, as countless biographies of the saints have, that God triumphs through the martyr's sacrifice.
Taken alone, these statements might be interesting from a purely academic standpoint. Unfortunately, we all know what followed Cho's statements.
So, it's this combination of language and action that's most "medieval," since the essential elements of Cho's manifesto mirror Pope Urban II's speech at Clermont (in modern France) in 1095 that launched the First Crusade.
From what we can reconstruct of that speech, Urban first railed against the sins of his listeners. But then, when the hellfires beckoned, Urban offered them a way out -- a path to heaven.
Go to Jerusalem. Reclaim the land where Jesus was crucified and where he would return in triumph. This land rightfully belongs to us, Urban continued, so emulate the suffering of Christ and "take up [your] cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23).
Defend your fellow Christians who suffer under (an imagined) oppression by God's enemies. Become a "soldier of Christ" and destroy "the enemy." God would reward you with martyrdom if you died. Jesus. The cross. Suffering. Martyrdom. Defense of the innocent. Violence.
Cries of "God wills it!" rang through the crowd. More than 100,000 people, many of whom had never left their village, decided to walk the 4,000 miles to Jerusalem. Again, we all know what came next.
It's important to note that neither of the events of 1095 or 2007 "just happened." There are explanations, even if they're not comfortable ones.
Urban's message met a receptive audience because long-held ideas and traditions in the West came together just so. So too with Cho.
He created a mental world, which only rarely touched reality, drawn from our culture's obsession with violence and guns as well as a radical Christianity, likely generated by his upbringing and continued interest in the religion, witnessed by the number of courses on religious topics that he took here at Tech.
This particular Christianity isn't unlike that unleashed during the First Crusade, even if such language of violence can still be found at places in our own, modern society.
Cho's mental world divided everything between good and evil and called for the oppressed to rise and take vengeance. Cho's mental illness made him cross a line and act upon these ideas. Unfortunately, it did not generate the ideas themselves, though.
But just as Cho was, in a way, an heir to the ideas of the First Crusade, so too are the rest of us for, in addition to violence and intolerance, the First Crusade was also about peace -- true, lasting peace.
As conceived in 1095, the violent reconquest of Jerusalem would hasten the arrival of God's kingdom on Earth, an earthly paradise in which all would share.
Later in the Middle Ages, the influential thought of Joachim of Fiore changed this tradition, stripping away the violence that preceded this kingdom, saying that all would peacefully -- peacefully -- come together.
And just as Urban's vision has endured, so too has Joachim's. The world, without hesitation, now condemns actions like Cho's. Violence is not normative anymore.
If nothing else, the Middle Ages show us how the intellectual path we're on isn't the only one available. In 1095, 100,000 people thought that violence could bring peace. In 2007, Cho believed the same and the world cried out in horror.
Cho took one path from 1095 and the vast majority took the other. In and of itself, and in the middle of all this sadness, this is a reason to look forward with hope.
--
Originally published in _The Roanoke Times_, 6/2/07
Source: <a href="http://www.roanoke.com/editorials/commentary/wb/wb/xp-119117">http://www.roanoke.com/editorials/commentary/wb/wb/xp-119117</a>
Now that the semester is over and there is time to reflect, I have been struck by how "medieval" the events of this past April seem -- both Seung-Hui Cho's violence and our collective revulsion to it.
In the snippets of Cho's "manifesto" that have been released to the public, there is rhetoric of (likely imagined) persecution of the innocent, violent defense of the helpless, and Cho's perception of himself as a martyr by appropriating explicitly Christian imagery -- Jesus himself, the cross, and even the torments the saints endured for their faith (burning like St. Polycarp, suffocating like St. Cecilia and beheading like St. Denis, etc.).
Even Cho's oft-repeated statement that "Jesus loves crucifying me" reinforces the idea of martyrdom, suggesting, as countless biographies of the saints have, that God triumphs through the martyr's sacrifice.
Taken alone, these statements might be interesting from a purely academic standpoint. Unfortunately, we all know what followed Cho's statements.
So, it's this combination of language and action that's most "medieval," since the essential elements of Cho's manifesto mirror Pope Urban II's speech at Clermont (in modern France) in 1095 that launched the First Crusade.
From what we can reconstruct of that speech, Urban first railed against the sins of his listeners. But then, when the hellfires beckoned, Urban offered them a way out -- a path to heaven.
Go to Jerusalem. Reclaim the land where Jesus was crucified and where he would return in triumph. This land rightfully belongs to us, Urban continued, so emulate the suffering of Christ and "take up [your] cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23).
Defend your fellow Christians who suffer under (an imagined) oppression by God's enemies. Become a "soldier of Christ" and destroy "the enemy." God would reward you with martyrdom if you died. Jesus. The cross. Suffering. Martyrdom. Defense of the innocent. Violence.
Cries of "God wills it!" rang through the crowd. More than 100,000 people, many of whom had never left their village, decided to walk the 4,000 miles to Jerusalem. Again, we all know what came next.
It's important to note that neither of the events of 1095 or 2007 "just happened." There are explanations, even if they're not comfortable ones.
Urban's message met a receptive audience because long-held ideas and traditions in the West came together just so. So too with Cho.
He created a mental world, which only rarely touched reality, drawn from our culture's obsession with violence and guns as well as a radical Christianity, likely generated by his upbringing and continued interest in the religion, witnessed by the number of courses on religious topics that he took here at Tech.
This particular Christianity isn't unlike that unleashed during the First Crusade, even if such language of violence can still be found at places in our own, modern society.
Cho's mental world divided everything between good and evil and called for the oppressed to rise and take vengeance. Cho's mental illness made him cross a line and act upon these ideas. Unfortunately, it did not generate the ideas themselves, though.
But just as Cho was, in a way, an heir to the ideas of the First Crusade, so too are the rest of us for, in addition to violence and intolerance, the First Crusade was also about peace -- true, lasting peace.
As conceived in 1095, the violent reconquest of Jerusalem would hasten the arrival of God's kingdom on Earth, an earthly paradise in which all would share.
Later in the Middle Ages, the influential thought of Joachim of Fiore changed this tradition, stripping away the violence that preceded this kingdom, saying that all would peacefully -- peacefully -- come together.
And just as Urban's vision has endured, so too has Joachim's. The world, without hesitation, now condemns actions like Cho's. Violence is not normative anymore.
If nothing else, the Middle Ages show us how the intellectual path we're on isn't the only one available. In 1095, 100,000 people thought that violence could bring peace. In 2007, Cho believed the same and the world cried out in horror.
Cho took one path from 1095 and the vast majority took the other. In and of itself, and in the middle of all this sadness, this is a reason to look forward with hope.
--
Originally published in _The Roanoke Times_, 6/2/07
Source: <a href="http://www.roanoke.com/editorials/commentary/wb/wb/xp-119117">http://www.roanoke.com/editorials/commentary/wb/wb/xp-119117</a>
Creator
Matthew Gabriele
Date
2008-01-08
Contributor
Matthew Gabriele
Language
eng
Citation
Matthew Gabriele, “Cho's Violent Crusade Ripped from the Middle Ages,” The April 16 Archive, accessed November 23, 2024, https://april16archive.org/index.php/items/show/1626.