The Merits of Martyrdom

One of the ironclad rules of American historiography is that martyrdom bestows greatness. Americans aren't as obsessed with martyrdom as other parts of the world, of course, but the dynamic is the same.

In the American parlance, however, "martyrdom" has acquired an absurdly inaccurate meaning. In American, "martyrdom" means "when a famous person dies unexpectedly or tragically". The make or model of death does not matter.

To the rest of the world, "martyrdom" means "an obscure person who WILLINGLY gives his life for a deeply-held belief, for a CAUSE".

In the Middle East, for example, "martyrs" are anonymous teenagers who willingly give their lives in the act of killing others, an action which they would insist was motivated by love of their own more than hatred of the other.

But in our culture, a famous person dying before his or her time is considered an adequate threshold for martyrdom, even if the person did not willingly give his or her life and even if their death was not in the interest of any identifiable "cause".

There was a poll a few years ago in which Americans rated John Kennedy as the best president of the 20th century. It is clear to myself and to most people literate in presidential history that JFK's legacy is almost entirely an emotional reaction to his awful public murder, to the last 46 seconds of his life rather than the first 46 years.

In addition to his murder making him "great", JFK is also credited as having died for any of a number of "causes". People project their own dreams and desires onto his murder and conclude that he died for civil rights, or for peace in Vietnam, or for tax cuts, or for whatever other cause one might consider worthy of martyrdom.

The unfortunate yet still true truth, however, is that JFK was killed for no reason at all, other than the neurotic and murderous impulse of a 24-year old sociopath. And speaking of 24-year olds, the same dynamic applies to the legacy of the Notorious BIG, just 24 when he was cut down.

The presidency and hip-hop may seem to be aberrant bedfellows, but the dynamic of "martyrdom" is the same. Just as JFK is remembered as the greatest president only because of his murder, so is Notorious BIG remembered as the greatest rapper.

Both men dealt in the poisonous currency of glamorized violence in their own distinct ways. With each of their deaths, there was the undeniable undercurrent of chickens coming home to roost.

When Notorious BIG was murdered, he had released one album. His second album was released weeks after his death. And that was it. 2 albums. Less than 3 hours of recorded music, and he is remembered as the best.

Not to delve too deeply into the minutiae of hip-hop history, but in my mind Jay-Z's first 2 albums, for example, or Nas' first 2 albums, were just as good as Notorious BIG's first 2 albums. And due to the virtue of not having been murdered, Jay-Z and Nas have lived to each release 8 more albums which are just as good as anything BIG ever did.

Early death is something which is, has always been, and will always be romanticized and invested with disproportionate meaning by the survivors. But only in America do we make early death synonymous with greatness, while treating the survivors as somewhat less mystical. Perhaps Notorious BIG had it right after all, when he recorded the last song of his short life.

"You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Kills You".