When you hear the term “war zone,” what comes to mind? Germany in the 1940s. Vietnam in the 1960s. Ethiopia-Eritrea border fight in the 1990s.
Or do you think of Chicago? The 1968 Democratic National Convention. Robert Taylor Homes. Cook County Jail.
All of these countries, conflicts, homes and places have been described as war zones. With such disparate circumstances, the term loses a bit of its gravity. In Chicago, neighborhoods like Englewood and public housing communities have suffered the war zone label to describe crime.
War analogies seem suitable because of the urgency and trauma gun violence inflicts. But overuse feels cliche. Think about how many times you’ve heard or read a version of “growing up in the inner city is like growing up in a war zone.” Such language chips away at the humanity of residents living in written-off neighborhoods. Even the popularized “Chiraq” (portmanteau of “Chicago” and “Iraq”) of 10 years ago is a failed metaphor.
Another drawback with the war zone trope is it sets up a binary of us vs. them, adversary vs. ally. In a domestic context, that means Chicagoans are the enemy. Does that make the government our foe?
Apparently, yes. President Donald Trump has shockingly declared war on Chicago and other U.S. cities under the guise of crime fighting. The poor metaphor is catching up with us.
Trump unleashed his power last month when the Department of Homeland Security instigated “Operation Midway Blitz” in Chicago and Illinois under the banner of an immigration crackdown.
In the lead-up, Trump posted a dystopic meme of Chicago on fire and wrote, “Chicago is about to find out why it’s called the Department of WAR.” Since then, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers and Border Patrol agents have popped up in neighborhoods and suburbs.
Masked federal agents troll the streets by racially profiling Latinos and abducting them or executing warrantless raids. The president told top military officials that “dangerous” cities like ours should be training grounds for troops. Not only does Trump call these cities war zones, but he said the “enemy within” needs to be handled.
The manufactured Chicago war zone under this administration manifests stylized on social media. On Instagram, videos are a cross between a 1980s action flick and a 1990s slick music video. The “Bag. Tag it. Take it down.” video reel shows officers gleefully pointing weapons, chasing and tackling people to the ground. All to the tunes of a frenetic soundtrack — or Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” while officers cruise down the Chicago River.
Another Instagram post boasts hyper-masculine militarized enforcement “from dawn to dusk.” Border Patrol Commander-At-Large Gregory Bovino, who a judge says must answer questions about the use of force, poses as a star. He struts to the Bee Gees’ “Stayin Alive” and says the Green Machine is bringing the energy to Chicago.
Bovino posted on Instagram, “Chicago: Where inner-city residents welcome us and show support for what we’re doing for their communities.” The video was set to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.
The inner-city cliche pretty much tracks for someone like him, but I have no idea how Motown fits in. I doubt hip-hop legend KRS-One would appreciate the “Sound of da Police” being used to brag about “Operation Midway Blitz.” Does the social media manager know — or, for that matter, care — the song is against police brutality?
These abhorrent videos exhibit what the government truly thinks of Chicagoans. Armed agents cosplay Rambo or Schwarzenegger. When Bovino says, “We are coming for you” to the tunes of Alice in Chains, the “you” is “us.”
The war continues. We’re not sure when there will be a ceasefire.
Natalie Y. Moore is a senior lecturer at Northwestern University.