By: Joel Irving
The tragic death of George Floyd under the knee of a police officer ignited a global firestorm, forcing a reckoning with entrenched issues of race and justice. In the aftermath, commentator Candace Owens offered a contentious assessment, largely focusing on Floyd's past and questioning his character, thereby, in the view of many, deflecting from the actions of law enforcement on that fateful day. Owens declared George Floyd "neither a martyr or a hero," pointing to his criminal record and suggesting his death was attributable to fentanyl rather than the officer's actions – a claim that starkly contrasts the Hennepin County Medical Examiner's ruling of homicide due to "cardiopulmonary arrest complicating law enforcement subdual, restraint, and neck compression."
This rebuttal is not to canonize George Floyd, nor is it to ignore the complexities of any human life. Instead, it is to refocus the lens on the conduct of the state's representative and to argue that the prolonged, agonizing restraint employed constituted a cruel and unusual punishment, an affront to the very principles enshrined in the U.S. Constitution. Furthermore, it's crucial to understand that for a vast segment of the Black community, George Floyd was not necessarily hailed as a flawless hero, but rather became a stark, tragic emblem of a devastatingly familiar narrative: the dehumanization of Black individuals at the hands of some within law enforcement.
The Unmistakable Cruelty of the Act
The Eighth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution unequivocally prohibits "cruel and unusual punishments." While traditionally applied to post-conviction sentencing, the spirit of this amendment – to prevent barbaric treatment and the unnecessary infliction of pain – casts a long shadow over the entirety of the justice process, including the act of arrest. The Supreme Court has interpreted "cruel and unusual" through the lens of "evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society."
Derek Chauvin's actions – kneeling on George Floyd's neck for over nine minutes, long after Floyd pleaded for his life, stated he couldn't breathe, and ultimately became unresponsive – can be viewed through this prism. This was not a fleeting, split-second decision in a rapidly evolving, life-threatening scenario. It was a prolonged, demonstrably agonizing, and ultimately fatal application of force to a man who was already subdued and posing no evident threat for an alleged minor offense (passing a counterfeit $20 bill).
The visual evidence, seared into the global consciousness, depicted a level of indifference to suffering that "shocks the conscience," a standard often invoked in assessing due process violations. The judge at Chauvin's sentencing recognized the "particular cruelty" of the act as an aggravating factor. To dismiss this as simply "police procedure" or to deflect by assassinating the character of the deceased is to ignore the profound violation of basic human dignity that unfolded.
A Symbol, Not a Saint: Understanding the Community's Cry
Candace Owens' assertion that George Floyd was not a hero to the Black community is, in a narrow sense, partially true but profoundly misleading. The outpouring of grief, anger, and protest was not a unified beatification of George Floyd the individual. Instead, his agonizing public death became a potent symbol for a centuries-old struggle against systemic racism and police brutality.
For many Black Americans, Floyd’s pleas of "I can't breathe" were not just his words, but an echo of Eric Garner, and a terrifyingly familiar articulation of their own lived experiences with a justice system they feel often treats them as subhuman. He was an example – a horrifying, undeniable example – of how routine encounters with law enforcement can escalate to fatal conclusions for Black individuals in a way that they are perceived not to for others. This stark contrast in treatment becomes even more glaring when considering how perpetrators of some of the most heinous crimes in American history, such as Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma City bomber who killed 168 people, or Jeffrey Dahmer, a serial killer responsible for the gruesome murders of 17 individuals, were reportedly handled with a degree of procedural correctness and even dignity by law enforcement during their arrests and initial detentions. The images of their apprehensions did not feature prolonged, public displays of agonizing restraint leading to death. This discrepancy fuels the perception that for some, particularly Black individuals, the presumption of innocence and the right to humane treatment during an arrest are not guaranteed, even when the alleged offense is as minor as the one George Floyd was accused of.
The protests weren't about elevating George Floyd to sainthood. They were about decrying a system that allowed his life to be extinguished with such apparent disregard. The focus was, and remains, on the perceived subhuman treatment of Black individuals by certain elements within law enforcement, where the presumption of innocence seems conditional and the right to life itself appears fragile.
To reframe the narrative, as Owens and others attempt, by focusing solely on Floyd's past is to miss the forest for the trees. It’s an attempt to rationalize the unbearable and to shift accountability away from the state-sanctioned power that was so horrifically abused. The issue was never about whether George Floyd was a perfect man; it was about whether any human being, regardless of their past, deserves to die pleading for breath under the knee of an officer of the law, especially when those accused of far greater atrocities are taken into custody without such fatal incident.
The death of George Floyd forced an uncomfortable, but necessary, confrontation with hard truths. Reducing this to a debate about one man's character rather than the character of the justice administered on our streets is a disservice to the profound issues at stake. The officer's actions were a chilling exhibition of cruelty, and George Floyd, in his tragic end, became an undeniable symbol of why the demand for equal justice and humane treatment endures.
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