Chapter 12: A Conversation

I took in a deep breath, netted my fingers, and placed my chin upon the back of my palms. I wanted to put my hands in my face and talk into them, but this was business, and there were rules about how to express fatigue in business. The night before drained me, and the internal conflict I felt about even having this meeting did nothing to help. But I had to power through it because—

"We need to talk about Minstrel," I said.

Lucius Fox nodded, "I understand, Bruce. This is a very delicate situation our city has found itself in. All due respect, I don't think Batman can punch his way out of this."

"No need for such formality, Lucius." I replied, "If I didn't want your unfiltered opinion, I wouldn't have asked you here. That goes for all of you, please don't feel like you must hold back, I want to hear everything."

Luke scoffed, "Don't tell me you're about to say, 'this is a safe space', man."

"It is." I assured him.

Luke shook his head, but his tone wasn't too derisive. In fact, ,it was almost comical, "Alright then. So, what do you want to talk about specifically?"

I cleared my throat and made a sideways glance towards Duke. I didn't know how to telepathically signal that I wasn't blaming him for what happened. I understood that he made a mistake. I could be reasonably forgiving of that mistake. But I couldn't ignore the deeper implications of what happened. 

I sighed, this would be a difficult conversation to start. I chose technical language, hoping it could help the conversation flow easier. "Put simply, Minstrel's philosophy and tactics aren't the kind we typically see. His cause is more empathetic, and it's coming at a time when it may be hard for the average Gotham citizen not to sympathize with him."

"You mean, of course, that it's hard for the average Black Gotham citizen not to empathize with him," Luke corrected.

"Luke," Lucius warned.

Luke shrugged, "Look, if we're going to be real, then let's be real. You don't call vegans when Poison Ivy's on a rampage, but Minstrel starts a riot and you assembled what I suspect may be the only Black people you know as both Batman and Bruce Wayne."

"The Johns are both off-world, and Jefferson's on another assignment," I muttered. Regaining volume to my voice, I added, "If I've upset you, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. Yes, you are here because you're Black and I can confide both parts of my life to all of you. I know you aren't experts in this, that's not why you're here. You're here because you've lived life in a way that I haven't, a way that I need to understand better if I'm going to solve this problem."

Luke nodded, "Good. As long as you're honest with yourself and us, that's all I want. So, you're worried about Minstrel starting a revolution?"

"That wouldn't happen," Lucius quickly interjected. "Minstrel is insane and uncontrolled. He would never be able to lead a movement! At most, he could manage a small gang. No one with actual power or ability to affect change for Black people would ever follow him, much less listen to him."

"I think you're underestimating him a little," Duke added. His voice was oddly distant, projecting an air of childlike meekness. That wasn't like him, but it didn't surprise me. I could tell that he still blamed himself for last night's riot. 

Lucius sighed, "I understand that he got to you but—"

"It's more than that!" Duke said. He looked to Lucius with pleading eyes, begging him to understand, "He got to me, yeah, but that's only because he knows what he's talking about. He understands people—Black people—on a fundamental level that we shouldn't underestimate. Minstrel's insane, and I can't say that his plans are well thought out, but he knows how to get people to react. He doesn't need or want anyone to follow him, he just needs them to react to him. He proved that much last night."

I nodded, "That riot lasted five hours, over three hundred citizens were detained, twenty-seven were rushed to the hospital, and there were three total fatalities. Businesses were destroyed, public property was damaged, and the governor called the National Guard in."

"They aren't actually here, though," Luke reminded everyone.

"Yes, because this is Gotham." I said. I could tell that Luke was only trying to point out that things hadn't gotten as bad as they could. But I didn't fully agree with that and made as much clear, "Though we were able to avoid things getting even worse, Minstrel did exactly what he set out to do that night; he demonstrated the brutality of the police and that Gotham's Black citizens are effectively living under a police state."

"An oddly woke statement to come from a white billionaire," Luke said with a smirk.

I couldn't disagree with him on that point. "Perhaps it is; blame it on me not patronizing Fox News. I stand by my claim. The fact of the matter is that the protest was peaceful until the gunshot. After Minstrel's round went off, it was the police over-reacted and escalated the situation even further. I told Jim to be on guard, but he didn't take my warnings seriously enough. Perhaps if he had, none of this would have happened."

Lucius twisted his mouth, "All due respect, I think that's a little naïve, Bruce."

I raised an eyebrow, and made my face inviting so he knew he could continue. But I didn't speak.

Lucius sighed, "I'm not saying that a riot was definite, but you have to remember the times. In every situation, I would have bet good money that someone was going to be assaulted at that protest, and I'd have bet more money that a cop would have done it."

"I agree," Luke said, "no matter how peaceful a protest is, the threat of danger is always going to be there."

I nodded, "I see your point. Still, I don't want to accept that this was unavoidable."

"It wasn't," Lucius began. "Not entirely unavoidable, at least. Look at what happened here, you had a massive movement converging on police headquarters without training, official purpose, or even a real leader to control the situation."

The older man sighed with a breath heavy with the wisdom of his years. He frowned and shook his head, "That's not the way we did it. When I was Duke's age, our protests were planned by people who helped prepare us for some of what we'd face out there. We had lists of demands and educated, articulate men and women that were able and willing to negotiate with government bodies. If we didn't have a bail fund prepared or a network of people to call on in case we were hauled off, we didn't march. Our marches were intentional, reasoned, and thought out. As admirable as last night's efforts were, it was purely emotional and impulsive."

I nodded again, "Thank you, Lucius. I think I'm beginning to understand. Perhaps as Bruce Wayne, I could—"

Luke cut me off before I could continue, "Now hold on a second! Dad, I take issue with how you're characterizing that march last night. Yes, it was an impromptu one, but those existed in the 60s, too. Not every march needs to have a formal list of demands, especially when those lists haven't changed much since you were a kid. There were leaders there, too,  they just weren't commanding the whole thing from the front lines. If Gordon or Mayor Hill offered to sit down with community leaders and activists, there were people from BlackYouthProject100, BlackLivesMatter, Gotham City Copwatch, Gotham City Stop The Violence, neo-Panthers, and even the NAACP. And that's just everyone from formal organizations, there were lots of independent activists there, too. We had just as much of a chance to affect real change as your generation did, but that chance was taken away from us when the cops decided to force us all home."

Lucius pushed back, "It doesn't matter how many previous demands you've made or how many actors from other movements are present. We live in a world of formalities, son! I taught you to understand that. Every protest needs clear leaders and clearer demands if it wants to be successful. You say that the mayor could have spoken to representatives from all these organizations and collectives, but which ones specifically? Cuz I know Mrs. Gold from the Stop The Violence campaign, and she's one of the last women I'd want in any meeting. These things have to be thought out if they're going to be meaningful."

I sensed hostilities rising, so I tried to shift the discussion away from an outright argument, "There's an impasse here that I've seen echoed in my other studies of Black history and politics. Really, generational divides happen across every movement, so I think they're inevitable. I wonder if this divide has impacted Minstrel's worldview."

The father and son calmed in those brief moments I spoke. Lucius's tone was more measured as he responded, "Most likely, I believe so."

"Minstrel seems upset at the way things have typically been done," Duke added with a nod. "Don't forget one of his last messages was a criticism of Mississippi Goddamn."

I remembered the video in question. What I couldn't figure out was whether Minstrel was saying that he would respond violently or calling the rest of Gotham's Black community to do the same. Thinking back on it raised a question in my mind, but I pushed that aside for the time being.

Luke weighed in, "My guess? Minstrel's an accelerationist. He's the one wearing a mask, but I think he wants the rest of us to drop it. He wants riots and looting and fights in the street because it means this story might finally end."

"And that's why he's dangerous," Lucius said.

Luke shrugged, "It's not like we're the ones that started all of this, though. Even Minstrel didn't really start it."

Duke agreed, "Facts. Minstrel may have caused the riot, and he may be fanning flames, but he didn't start this fire."

"Yes," I said. "If we're going to ever hope to not only beat Minstrel but prevent any copycats, then we need to keep in mind that these problems don't begin and end with him."

There was a brief silence for a moment. I personally didn't find it an awkward or uncomfortable silence. I believe we were all reasoning our way through what we'd discussed. I'd grown to see silences like these as signs that people were trying to find an answer that considered what everyone said, and not simply trying to argue their own point to placate their ego.

"Are you all familiar with the concept of the Overton Window?" I asked. In our silence, I hand't come up with a real answer to the situation. But a thought occurred to me, and I wanted to share it with the others. 

Duke shook his head, "What's that?"

Lucius explained, "It's a term used in politics to describe, essentially, the culture of politics and how it changes over time. If we consider certain beliefs, regardless of party, to be inherently Right or Left, then depending on how prevalent those ideas are, a political system as a whole is either skewed more to the left or more to the right. As ideas cycle through a political sphere and politician's platforms change, the Overton Window shifts and what was once a talking point by conservatives becomes one used by liberals and vice versa."

I shook my head, "Exactly. The Overton Window concept reminds us that politics are never static; as situations change, so do politics. This is also true of civic engagement. The tactics and beliefs of activists change throughout time. Perhaps, then, the same can be said of our line of work. If I want to prevent new Minstrels from appearing, maybe it's necessary that I adopt new tactics that better fit this racial climate."

"So, Batman's about to bash the Klan?" Luke asked.

I nodded, "If need be. I've never been a stranger to white supremacist violence; it exists here in Gotham and surrounding areas just as much as it does everywhere else. But it's never been a priority of mine. I hate to be so blunt, but it's true. There are ninjas, warlords, and crime bosses that have done more damage to the people of this city than any of the Neo-Nazi gangs in Gotham could ever even dream of."

Lucius commented, "That's going to have to change, though. Those Neo-Nazi gangs are getting bigger, and there's no guarantee that metahumans and advanced science won't get involved, so Batman is going to have to get involved, too."

I nodded, "Yes, I agree. I also think that Bruce Wayne's tactics are going to have to change."

Duke raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that supporting charities and assistance programs isn't enough to address racism in Gotham. Minstrel's getting everyone ready for war, the police are unresponsive to the people's fears, and our president has convinced the majority demographic that they're at risk of genocide. If there were a window of acceptable forms of activism, it's shifted long ago, and I need to adapt if I want to ensure that there's some meaningful change here in Gotham."

"A commendable desire, to be sure," Lucius said. There was a clear note of uncertainty whistling alongside his voice, and I knew what it meant.

"Bruce," Luke began, "I think this is something that's bigger than even you can handle."

"I understand that." It was true, I really did understand that much. What I was working against was centuries old, and far more invasive and intangible than even the Court of Owls. Attempting to solve racism entirely would take me too much out of my work as Batman. But as I explained to Luke, "I know that this is something I can't fix. But it may be something I can help. At least enough so that Minstrel doesn't have the amount of support that he does, and we can minimize risk of copycats or recidivism once he's captured."

Everyone nodded, and once again there was a brief silence. It was eventually broken by Lucius.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, if you want to be more involved in combatting systemic racism in Gotham, that's something I can help with. I have connections that would be useful for you. We can create more outreach programs, and we can invest in advocacy groups. We can find the people that we know can lead this fight and give them everything they need to do it."

I could tell that there was a 'but' coming. I could also tell that, perhaps, Duke and Luke weren't too passionate about the idea of his father and I leveraging our power to select people to lead social change in Gotham. I had no interest in over-stepping by launching some kind of astroturf campaign, and I wanted to let both of them know that. But I also knew that going further into that discussion might exacerbate a much bigger, more heated debate between the three of them.

"But..." I said, encouraging Lucius to move on to his next thought.

Lucius leaned forward, "But what does that mean for Batman? No matter how you slice it, Bruce, you're everything our people fear. A wealthy white boy in a suit, beating up criminals with no legal oversight."

"I understand their fears, but I try to only engage in violence with people that are posing an active threat to others or myself," I defended.

Duke rolled his eyes, "Said every cop ever."

I sighed, and shook my head, "Yes, I understand how I come off. But I've never intentionally killed anyone, and the tools I use are designed to minimize that risk."

"It's not just about killing, though, Bruce!" Lucius pushed back.

Duke took leaned forward, "It's the fact that a cop can swing on me at any time and he's in the right. Even if I can prove that he was wrong, what's going to happen? He's not going to lose his badge and get kicked off the force, he'll just be reprimanded and at worst get desk duty or time off. Police are people that can be as violent as they want and have the support of the law and other citizens, too."

"That's why I became Batman," I argued. I didn't want to sound too defensive, but Id grown frustrated over the years by people who acted like I hadn't considered this before. "That's why I support you and Luke and the Outsiders and the Justice League and the Titans. I think that, if violence is absolutely necessary to preserve justice, then just and righteous men and women should be able to engage in violence to protect the innocent. I'm trying to give that power back to the good people of the world, so that they aren't caught between remorseless criminals and biased or corrupt police forces."

"That's where you're wrong, Bruce," Duke said as he shook his head, "You don't empower 'the people', you can only empower your people. Every night you go out, you make a world where privileged white men can engage in violence to defend their sense of 'justice' and 'innocent people'. You can give me and Luke and Black Lightning all the tech and inspirational speeches you want, but at the end of the day, our communities don't have the power to defend themselves without first consulting the will of some white guy. I would have never been Signal or a Robin without you or Alfred bankrolling and training me, that's just facts."

My pulse quickened and I felt blood rush to my face. My skin grew hotter as I felt their eyes on me. What were they looking for? Why did their bodies seem so squared off? My brain began looking for holes in Duke's argument, and I grew ready to push back on his claim and argue—I stopped myself. I was becoming defensive, emotional. That wasn't what this meeting was for. Even if I felt like Duke and the others were being hostile, that didn't mean anything. Only I promised to keep an open mind here, I never instructed them to do the same.

"I hear you, Duke, I hear you. I guess my next question, then, is what should I be doing as Batman to prevent new Minstrels from coming around?"

There was a silence that passed around the room as no one knew how to reply. I couldn't tell what the others were thinking, but I suspected their reasoning was along the lines of my own. If I brought more Black people into the fold, gave them the training and technology they needed to be the heroes that their communities needed and deserved, that wouldn't actually shift power towards Gotham's Black community. It was the easy fix scenario, the one that I felt most inclined to go with so that whole conversation, and each one thereafter would be easier. But Duke was right, Black heroes only go so far and mean so much if some white guy is making a path for them.

Since Minstrel first appeared, I'd been asking myself a question, one that I had to keep asking myself even though it flew in the face of everything I believed...or everything that I wanted to believe that I believed.

I looked around the room, and for the first time that day I really looked at each of the men I was talking with. Lucius, with his refined and serious gaze, somehow weary with bags but eyelids hanging at an easy-going height. Where most men would be uncomfortable in conversations like this, he wasn't. He'd been in these talks so many times that it was as natural as breathing to him—or maybe not? Maybe the finely pressed and tailored, tan, plaid suit was his own cape, and his friendly but non-plussed expression a cowl. Was he treating me the way he treated men like Grant? Was he humoring me, this wealthy white man with a guilty conscience? I didn't want to believe that he was doing that, I hoped that as friends we could be honest with each other in matters like these. But as his friend, I also had too much respect for him to delude myself into thinking that this wise, older man wasn't capable of placating me with a few well-selected expressions.

I looked to Duke next. His demeanor had changed a bit during the conversation. No longer was his back slightly arched and his neck bent as he peered out to us all from the safety of his tortoise shell. He spine erect and his eyes straight forward, he looked far more comfortable as he sat in his hoodie and jeans.  Still, I could tell there was some hesitation to his existence. Lines of concentration on his face directed me towards a tightened jaw, tapping fingers, and the faintest evidence of an absent mind locked behind his irises. There was a machine inside Duke's mind, and it was working over-time trying to crack some equation too large for me to even consider. And it had been running like that for some time.

Finally, there was Luke. Throughout our talk he'd been rather casual. His demeanor reflected the same. He sat with a slight slouch and legs spread apart, a posture more befitting of an afternoon hang out than the serious business at hand. To say that his face was unreadable would be incorrect. Though bland, I could still make deductions from the lack of signs it gave. He wasn't non-plussed like Lucius or newly relaxed like Duke--if I didn't know him better, I would say that he wasn't taking the matter seriously at all. But I did know Luke, and so I knew that his demeanor didn't reflect lack of interest. He cared about everything we discussed here, but he was determined to not get too upset over any of it. Or, at the very least, he was determined not to let me see how upset he was. 

"There's a question that I have to ask you all," I finally began. I knew what words to say, and I knew they had to be said. I just didn't want to be the one to say them.

People mischaracterize me all the time, they think that my suspicion and pragmatism mean that I don't value the people around me. But that isn't true, I'm distrustful and discerning because I value the people around me. I didn't want to ask this question to either validate or invalidate Luke, Duke, and Lucius, I did it because I valued each of their opinions, and I wanted to take them into consideration as I planned my next steps.

"None of us support Minstrel, Bruce." Lucius reassured.

I believed him at his word, but I didn't think his statement was true, either. The way that reality often contradicts itself would be funny if it weren't so damn annoying. I knew that each of their answers would be more complicated than that. In fact, I would have preferred more complicated answers than a flat 'no', because it would be in those complications that I'd better understand the impact Minstrel's ideology had on even those working to stop him.

I thought of a way to approach Lucius's response. I didn't want to draw Luke and Duke into the crossfire if I could help it at all.

"You're not swayed at all, Lucius? Why's that?" I asked.

Lucius shook his head, "Like I said, he's going about this all the wrong way, and from what I've seen and heard of him, I don't think our end goals are the same. I don't think he's concerned with racial harmony, justice, or even freedom. If he were, why would he be Minstrel and not just a Black man? No, I cannot support Minstrel. He makes a mockery of everything my people have suffered under and fought for so he can justify his need for wonton destruction."

Luke rolled his eyes. The action was immediately noticed by Lucius, and it caused the man to scowl at his son and give him a warning shake of his head.

"Sorry, Dad, but I really can't bring myself to say that I'm against Minstrel."

It was the kind of honest, real answer that I'd been hoping to receive, even if it did trouble me. I thought about what this bias might mean for Luke while he was in the field. I didn't think that he'd betray the team and our objective, but that didn't mean he would always have a clear head. All Minstrel did was talk to Duke and he froze. I wondered; would Luke's sympathies lead to him doing the same?

"Luke! That is not how you were raised!" Lucius argued with his son. His fist tightened and his face twisted in a scowl. It was one of the most blatantly angry states I'd ever seen the older gentleman in, and I found myself wondering who it was meant for. Was the scowl for his son, who'd said something which went against the central beliefs of their family? Was it for himself, who had to maintain an illusion of control and influence over his children to feel validated? Or was it for me, the white man who couldn't hear that any Black person they held in high regard, could feel neutral about a man like Minstrel.

"I never said that I agreed with him," Luke shot back to his dad, but in a reassuring—if not pleading – tone. "You're right, I wasn't raised that way. I could never do the things that Minstrel does. But I don't know if that means he's wrong. It just means that he's wrong for me."

I nodded, "I understand your perspective, Luke. I feel the same way about many of the people I've had to work with in my day. This is a complicated game that we're all playing."

Lucius frowned at Luke, I could tell that he was disappointed in him, angry even. But I couldn't see why. Luke was just speaking his own opinion, one informed by the realities that he and his people faced. I couldn't be mad at that, so how could Lucius?

Luke didn't appear interested in debating the matter with his father. He turned to Duke, "And what about you, Duke? I mean, you talked to the guy, so I'm sure you get it too, right? Minstrel has a reason for what he's doing, and I think that makes it hard to determine whether he's wrong or right."

Luke's question to Duke was met with a vigorously shaking head, but no corresponding speech.

"Glad to see that someone sees reason," Lucius mumbled.

Duke shook his head again, "I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I neither like nor believe in what Minstrel's doing, and I do wonder how much of his ideology is born form a sincere desire to end the suffering of other Black people, and how much of it is just him justifying his own insanity. But even if he is insane, I think it's clear that he didn't get that way on his own. Something happened to him to drive him to this, and I can imagine quite a few things that would make him think chaos was the way forward. I don't know what type of effect he's going to have on the people, I don't know if we're about to see more riots or copycats, and I don't know how far he's willing to escalate this. Minstrel is a complete mystery to me. And honestly, that pisses me off."

I watched Duke curiously as he shut his eyes for a few seconds and took calming breaths.

"Minstrel's Black, and I'm Black. He's talking about the same issues our entire race has been talking about for years, issues that I know about and have my own experience with. Minstrel's running around telling us exactly what he wants and why he's doing this, I know he is. But it's like he's speaking another language that I only kind of understand. He should be an open book to me, but I have no idea what he's thinking. And that just makes me angry at him."

Duke didn't mention that it also made him angry at himself, but I knew him well enough to deduce he was thinking that. It wasn't a feeling that I was unfamiliar with, I'd been living in that emotional state for years. I'd felt a similar way about Joker, but also for my other foes. Ra's Al-Ghul, Bane, Catwoman, all the people that mattered to me gave me that same frustration Duke highlighted. To say it felt like having just one empty piece of the puzzle left didn't do the feeling justice. Having an adversary like this felt like having just one last puzzle piece left, a set of instructions on how to solve it, and a puzzle piece in your hand that wouldn't fit no matter how hard you tried to force it.

Minstrel started off targeting a blackface party. He used a non-leathal mixture of Joker gas and painted the attendee's faces. It was assault, but more of a public nuisance crime compared to everything else he'd done after. Paint washes out and the effects of the gas can be healed with minor risk to the victim. Then there was the instance at the mall, where Minstrel assaulted teenagers dressed like him; again, he didn't deliver any serious or fatal blow, the kids were in and out of the hospital in under two hours. The same couldn't be said of the man and woman he'd kidnapped and disfigured. Minstrel cut out and destroyed a woman's tongue and a man's penis; that was a drastically different form of assault, one with lasting consequences. Still, there was an internal reason to that crime that I could map out. The man in question was a rapist and the woman's false reports led to a man's incarceration and suicide. From Minstrel's twisted perspective, he'd delivered justice. Despite being a rapid escalation, I could still see how the three were linked—they were retaliatory crimes against, in simple terms, white people that had harmed Black people either literally or figuratively.

Then there was the previous night, when his entire M.O. was thrown out the window. Minstrel could have gone after Namzmiren, the judge, or the jury. He didn't even have to wait for the verdict, but he did. He waited for Namzmiren to be declared guilty and then did nothing to him or the GCPD. He fired a gun in the middle of a protest knowing that it would cause a riot. More than that, he likely knew that most of the protestors were unarmed, whereas all the police and counter protesters were carrying arms. He brought pain to people he claimed to be avenging, but why? Just to prove that he could?

But, I soon realized, maybe we were coming at this from the wrong angle. Minstrel never said that he was trying to help the Black community of Gotham. Nor had anything he'd done improved anyone's life or protected it. Was he only interested in revenge without helping others? Even if that were true, then why would he incite a riot?

I sighed, "For what it's worth, Duke, I don't know what to think either."