Beyond Division: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Roots of Division: How We Got Here

The atrocities of the Holocaust, slavery, Nanjing, Rwanda, and Armenia didn’t erupt from nowhere—they were the bitter fruit of a tree planted deep in human history, its roots twisting through time. Group judgmentalism, the act of judging people by their category rather than their unique individuality, isn’t a modern invention; it’s a flaw as old as humanity itself. From tribal camps to colonial empires, from medieval mobs to 20th-century killing fields, we’ve clung to this poison—driven by fear, power, and the lazy habit of our minds. Understanding how we got here—how group thinking took hold and grew—reveals why it’s so hard to shake, and why it’s so urgent we do. The path to these tragedies wasn’t inevitable, but it was paved by choices, each a step away from seeing humans as individuals.

Tribal Beginnings: The Seed of “Us vs. Them”

Humans started as tribes—small bands of hunters and gatherers, 50 to 150 strong, roaming a world of scarcity. Survival demanded loyalty to the group: your kin fed you, fought with you, kept you alive. Outsiders—those who looked, spoke, or acted differently—were risks. A stranger might steal your food, kill your kin, or bring disease. Anthropologists like Jared Diamond note that early human conflicts, like those between Neanderthals and Homo sapiens, often hinged on difference—group identity was life or death. This wasn’t evil; it was instinct. A child with a crooked smile, a hunter with a quick laugh—their individuality mattered less than their tribe’s banner.

As tribes grew into villages, then cities, this instinct lingered. Mesopotamia’s Sumerians clashed with Akkadians, each a group “other” to be feared or conquered. Egypt’s pharaohs enslaved Nubians, judging them as a lesser race, not as individuals with skills or souls. The Hebrew exodus from Egypt—dated around 1200 BCE—pitted one group against another, freedom won through collective identity. Tribalism wired us to see “us” versus “them,” a reflex that made sense when survival hung by a thread. But as societies scaled, it morphed—difference wasn’t just a threat; it became a tool.

Medieval Madness: Group Hate Takes Shape

By the Middle Ages, group judgmentalism hardened into dogma. Europe’s feudal patchwork bred suspicion—villages eyed neighbors, kingdoms eyed rivals. The Crusades (1095–1291) turned this into holy war, Christians branding Muslims as “infidels,” a group to slaughter en masse. A Muslim scholar in Baghdad, penning astronomy texts, or a Christian knight in Jerusalem, tending his horse—individuals faded into “enemy.” But the Jews bore the ugliest brunt. Pogroms—mob attacks on Jewish communities—swept Europe, fueled by group lies: Jews poisoned wells, killed Christ, hoarded gold.

In 1096, the People’s Crusade saw Rhineland Jews massacred—500 in Worms alone—judged not as neighbors but as “Christ-killers.” A Jewish merchant’s generosity, a child’s curiosity—erased by the label “Jew.” Chronicles from the time record mobs chanting, “Kill the Jews who killed our Lord,” no questions of individuality asked. The Black Death (1347–1351) worsened this—Jews were blamed as a group, burned alive in Strasbourg (2,000 in one day), their humanity torched with their bodies. Difference, cast as danger, justified murder—group judgmentalism’s medieval roots sank deep.

Colonialism: Difference as Profit

The Age of Exploration turned group judgmentalism into an empire-building machine. From the 15th century, European powers—Spain, Portugal, Britain, France—sailed forth, eyeing “savages” to exploit. Columbus landed in 1492, calling Native Americans “Indians,” a group ripe for conquest, not individuals with cultures or names. Within decades, millions died—disease, war, enslavement—judged as lesser beings. Bartolomé de las Casas, a Spanish priest, wrote of the carnage: “They killed without distinction… seeing them as beasts, not men.” A Taíno farmer planting cassava, a child weaving reeds—gone, their group identity their doom.

Africa bore the worst. The transatlantic slave trade, peaking in the 17th and 18th centuries, enslaved over 12 million, judged by group—tribes like the Mandinka or Fon, or simply “Black.” Portuguese traders in Angola didn’t see a mother’s tenderness or a hunter’s skill—they saw profit in a category. Ships like the Clotilda, the last to America in 1860, crammed humans into holds, reducing them to “cargo.” Group difference—skin, origin—became a currency, equality denied. Colonialism judged entire continents as inferior, paving the way for slavery’s global stain.

Eugenics: Science Twisted by Group Thinking

The 19th century dressed group judgmentalism in a lab coat—eugenics, the pseudo-science of “improving” humanity by ranking groups. Francis Galton, its founder, claimed some races—white Europeans—were superior, their potential higher. Africans, Asians, Indigenous peoples? Lesser stock, judged collectively. This wasn’t fringe—by 1900, it gripped the West. America sterilized 60,000 “defectives” (often poor or non-white) under eugenics laws; Britain’s elites debated “racial purity.”

Eugenics fed the Nazis. Hitler’s Mein Kampf (1925) called Jews a “racial poison,” a group to purge, not individuals to know. Scientists measured skulls, charted noses, “proved” inferiority—group judgmentalism cloaked as reason. A Jewish violinist’s melody, an African farmer’s harvest—irrelevant; their categories damned them. Eugenics didn’t just dehumanize—it rationalized slaughter, setting the stage for the 20th century’s horrors.

20th Century: Ideologies of Group Hate

The 20th century turned group judgmentalism into ideologies of mass destruction. Communism and fascism, opposites in aim, shared a flaw: collectives over individuals. Stalin’s purges killed millions—“kulaks,” “traitors”—judged by class or loyalty, not personhood. A Ukrainian peasant’s grit, a poet’s verse—erased. Mao’s Cultural Revolution targeted “bourgeois” groups, individuality crushed under the red banner.

Fascism was worse. Nazi Germany’s Holocaust judged Jews, Romani, Slavs as sub-human groups—six million Jews alone, their uniqueness burned in ovens. Japan’s imperial creed in World War II cast Chinese and Koreans as inferior races—Nanjing’s 300,000 dead a testament. Turkey’s Young Turks saw Armenians as a disloyal group—1.5 million murdered. Rwanda’s Hutu Power branded Tutsis “cockroaches”—a million hacked apart. Each ideology judged by group—race, class, nation—ignoring the human beneath.

Why We Judge by Group: Fear, Power, Laziness

Why does this persist? Three roots run deep. Fear—the tribal reflex—makes difference a threat. A medieval Jew’s faith, a Tutsi’s height—unknowns spark panic, and groups are easier to fear than individuals. Powerexploits this. Kings, slavers, dictators—group judgmentalism justifies control: “They’re less, so we rule.” Columbus enslaved “Indians” for gold; Hitler killed Jews for “purity.” It’s a tool of dominance, difference weaponized.

Laziness seals it. Our minds crave shortcuts—categorizing is simpler than knowing. A Chinese merchant’s life, an Armenian’s hopes—too complex. “Enemy,” “slave”—one word suffices. Cognitive science backs this: we stereotype to save effort, but it blinds us. A Jew isn’t a baker, a child, a dreamer—just “Jew.” This trio—fear, power, laziness—drove us from tribes to gas chambers, each step a choice to judge by group, not individual.

The Cost and the Crack

The cost is staggering: millions dead, societies scarred. The Holocaust’s six million Jews—doctors, mothers, kids—judged as one. Slavery’s millions—artists, fathers—chained by color. Nanjing’s 300,000—teachers, girls—killed as “Chinese.” Rwanda’s million Tutsis—nurses, boys—slashed as a group. Armenia’s 1.5 million—poets, elders—marched to death as “Armenians.” Group judgmentalism didn’t just kill—it erased uniqueness, leaving echoes in today’s divides: racial tensions, ethnic strife, mistrust.

Yet cracks appeared. Medieval monks sheltered Jews, seeing neighbors, not “killers.” Abolitionists fought for enslaved individuals—Frederick Douglass, a man, not a race. Nanjing’s resistors hid Chinese friends, not a category. These weren’t systems—they were humans choosing to see humans. History’s roots twisted toward division, but these choices hint at a break—judging by individuality, not group, as the way out.

Toward a Different Path

Group judgmentalism isn’t our fate—it’s our failure. From tribal fear to eugenic charts, from colonial greed to fascist creeds, we built this trap, step by lazy, fearful, power-hungry step. The Holocaust, slavery, Nanjing, Rwanda, Armenia—they’re the harvest, proof that judging by group dehumanizes and destroys. But those cracks—those moments of seeing individuals—whisper a truth: we can choose differently. Ethical Individualism rises from that whisper, a philosophy to uproot division and plant harmony, seeing each human as unique, equal, and worthy.