When U.S. Border Patrol Commander-At-Large Gregory Bovino says, “We are coming for you” to the tunes of Alice in Chains, the “you” is “us.”
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.
