Kevan Blanche
Burning epitaph spans decades, races
Once again it is that time of year when battle lines are drawn about the Burning of the Bruin. Every fall, for the past four years, I have listened to the debate and am always surprised by the intense arguing which accompanies this tradition. Perhaps the most frustrating part of this debate for me has long been the misconceptions and sweeping generalizations that people make about the symbolism of being burned at the stake, and the pains they go to in order to link it to racial hatred. I always felt that if people really took the time to evaluate, in a historic sense, their opposition to this activity, they might realize the absurdity of arguing over a burning stuffed animal.
Despite what some might
contend, the concept of burning people at the stake is not one forged from
19th-century American racial tensions. Rather, the act of burning people at
the stake is a centuries-old form of execution which was employed mainly to
dispose of religious heretics.During the Spanish
Inquisition, beginning in the late 15th century, burnings at the stake were
often the culmination of an official Catholic judicial process and ceremony
known as an "Auto-Da-Fe," Portuguese for "Act of Faith." During this
ceremony, which was often a large and impressive one, crowds gathered to
watch the victim be burned, and to hear the accompanying sermon.During this period, and
that of the other inquisitions, thousands of people were burned for heresy,
including suspected witches, church dissenters, Jewish and Moorish
converts, philosophers and scientists. Furthermore, many early Protestant
reformers -- including John Huss, the early Bohemian reformer; Thomas
Cranmer, the archbishop of Canterbury; and William Tyndale (whose
unauthorized English translations of the Bible later formed much of the
King James version) -- were all burned at the stake for heresy. Even Joan
of Arc, patron saint of France, was burned at the stake.The great majority of
people in Western civilization who have been burned at the stake were
Europeans, not Americans -- black, white or otherwise. To suggest that
being burned at the stake should invariably evoke images of 19th- and
20th-century American racial-hatred crimes is to ignore hundreds of years
of history. Perhaps those who have the
most reason to feel offended by the act of burning someone at the stake are
Protestants. However, I doubt that you will find many Lutherans,
Episcopalians or Presbyterians protesting the Burning of the Bruin, for it
is obviously not intended to be suggestive of Protestant persecutions
centuries ago.In fact, to further
underscore the utter remoteness of racial overtones, one need only to be
reminded that we are not even burning a person in effigy, but rather a
stuffed teddy bear. The Burning of the Bruin has always been, and will
always be, about one thing: a traditional gathering of Trojans of all
backgrounds to demonstrate our school pride, and to issue a challenge to
our cross-town rival, UCLA. The continued debate and
opposition to the Burning of the Bruin is not only misguided, but it
undermines the solidarity that should be derived from a joint gathering of
Trojans. I propose, if one must look at this event only in racial terms (as
is apparently inescapable), that it be looked at with a different
perspective. In the spirit of higher learning, which USC stands for, use
logic to understand that the Burning of the Bruin is not racially motivated
or suggestive. Likewise, in the spirit of
modern American democracy, be proud and thankful that we all live in a
nation in which people of all backgrounds and histories can stand together
and know, confidently, that they have overcome the hatred and prejudice of
the past, and that they need not fear such tyranny as being burned at the
stake for their beliefs or their race.Kevan Blanche is a senior majoring in political science and history.