the blog

Reflections on Propaganda

I have stood in both the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre in Rwanda and the Yad Vashem Holocaust centre in Jerusalem. In both places, the same question puzzled me: "how could this happen in contemporary times?” Maybe what I should have pondered was: “Where is this happening now and how?”

The how has become clearer to me over the years. It starts with a Latin word propagare - which means to spread or extend. (Likely I knew this back in high school Latin classes but it has sunk to the same depth where the periodic timetable now resides). Anyway, propagare gave rise to the English word propagate meaning to spread (as in dispense everything from seeds to ideas). The word served harmlessly for centuries until 1622 when it was corrupted by a Catholic organization, Congregatio de Propaganda Fide (“Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith”). This group was founded to spread the doctrine of Christianity. Over time, propaganda took on a broader—and more political—meaning: the spreading of ideas, often in a biased or misleading way.

As scholars such as Gregory Stanton have pointed out, propaganda plays a key role in the stages that precede and eventually enable violence and genocide. The path to genocide typically unfolds in stages, with each stage reinforcing the next. For this reason, wherever we reside in the world, it behooves us to become aware of incremental steps in the propaganda playbook that can lead to the exponential rise of mass indoctrination.

It often begins with the control of information. In Rwanda, I witnessed how the Hutu architects of the genocide used the radio to decide what information got amplified, ignored, or framed in a particular way. By selectively reporting or omitting facts, media can create a skewed version of reality.

Ideas are not enough. Propaganda relies on emotion more than logic. Media—especially visual platforms—can stir fear, pride, anger, or sympathy to sway public opinion. Here’s where repetitive emotional messaging (e.g. slogans, powerful imagery, loaded language) can deeply influence how people think or behave.

In the digital age, echo chambers and algorithms play their part. Social media platforms use algorithms that feed users content they already agree with, reinforcing beliefs and isolating them from opposing views. This makes it easier to push propaganda without pushback — people become more polarized and less critical. Modern media, especially digital, allows propaganda to spread instantly and globally. In this regard, fake news, doctored videos, or misleading headlines can go viral before they have been debunked. The damage is done and swiftly.

How and who delivers information can be critical to the acceptance of information or misinformation. When media appears professional or authoritative, audiences are more likely to accept its messages without scrutiny. Governments, corporations, or interest groups can use this trust to push their agendas subtly.

And don’t discount the dark magic of deflection or distraction. Sometimes propaganda works by distracting rather than convincing. If you flood media with trivial or sensational content you can draw attention away from critical issues.

Now we’re picking up momentum and the more sinister aspects emerge. For example, a particular group may be singled out and labeled as “other” through political rhetoric or media narratives. Differences (ethnic, religious, political, etc.) are emphasized to create division. Once this is established, the targeted group is associated with specific symbols, names, or physical characteristics. They may be forced to wear identifying markers (e.g., yellow stars in Nazi Germany). In Rwanda, the Tutsi were referred to as cockroaches by those planning the genocide.

Discrimination now leads to laws, policies, or social norms that restrict the rights of the targeted group, excluding them from economic, political, and social life (e.g., apartheid, Nuremberg Laws).  The targeted group is portrayed as less than human (vermin, disease, criminals, etc.), justifying mistreatment and violence. Hate speech and propaganda intensify. Genocidal actions are planned, often by the state, militias, or extremist groups. Armed groups are trained and supplied (machetes were distributed in Rwanda). 

As polarization ramps up, moderates who oppose violence are silenced, imprisoned, or killed. Victims are identified, rounded up, or forcibly relocated (e.g., ghettos, internment camps). Direct violence can now escalate through mass arrests, forced displacement, or concentration camps. Death lists may be created and large-scale, systematic killings begin. Often justified as a necessary security measure. Perpetrators will downplay, justify, or outright deny the genocide, destroying evidence, intimidating witnesses, or rewriting history.

While not all historical events follow this exact sequence, propaganda is usually a first step in preparing the population to accept, support, or participate in mass violence. Whenever I hear myself say, “This can’t happen here,” I transport myself back to the Genocide memorial centre and reframe the question as, “where am I seeing evidence of fragmentation and polarization already happening.”

Now is the time to propagate seeds that bear a different fruit.

🙏❤. GD

The Polkaville Saga

Once upon a time in the dreary town of Polkaville, a stern-faced man named Mayor Rump ruled with an iron fist. He loved two things: pickled pickles and polka music. Especially polka. He loved it so much that he declared all other genres of music illegal.

“No more funking out!” he bellowed from his pickle-shaped office. “No more free jazz! No more drum circles in the park! From this day forward, it’s polka or nothing!”

To ensure total obedience, he appointed his best friend, the suspiciously squishy Mr. Muskmelon, to be the official music teacher of Polkaville. Mr. Muskmelon only taught one instrument: the accordion. He specialized in one style: classic, toe-tapping, sausage-swinging polka.

For a time, Polkaville grew quiet, save for the endless oompah beats that droned from every public building, sauerkraut shop, and lederhosen stand.

But deep in a hidden alley, beneath a bakery that smelled of cinnamon, a flicker of musical mischief was stirring. A retired musician named Papa G., (who once toured the world with his jazz-funk band Galactic GrooveTrain), had enough of sonic restrictions. He dusted off his old B3 organ, oiled up his vintage trumpet, and opened a secret spot named The Underground Studio.

Here, Papa G. experimented with wild and innovate hybrids: Funk Polka, Ska Polka, Metal Polka, Jazz Polka, and even the dangerously danceable Pop Polka.

When the Polka Police stormed in, mustaches twitching and tubas at the ready, Papa G. simply pointed at the bylaws.

“I am teaching polka,” he said with a sly wink. “Just… with more galactic juice.”

Word spread like confetti in a fan factory. Soon, young whippersnappers and silver-haired grandmas were crowding into the studio, creating mashups the world had never heard: Punk Polka, Polka Hop, and even Peace-Pipe Polka (a hit among the local hippies).

Musicians from faraway lands journeyed to Polkaville to add their sounds to the movement. A drummer from Lagos brought AfroBeat Polka. A singer from Jamaica unleashed Reggae Polka. A kamānche player from Tehran introduced hauntingly beautiful Persian Polka. Polkaville, once a sleepy mono-sonic town, became a bubbling jambalaya of global grooves.

The music grew so big, so bold, so wonderfully weird, that it spilled into the streets. Before you could say Frankie Yankovic (the king of polka), PolkaFest was born. This massive gathering brought citizens and visitors alike together to improvise together and experiment with never-heard-before possibilities. PolkaFest was live-streamed around the world.

Even the grumpy Polka Police couldn’t resist. They formed their own brass-heavy, high-stepping marching band and created a sound all their own: Parade Polka. They were surprisingly good, and slightly funky.

On the day of the next election, the people voted with their heart and feet. Literally. They joyfully danced their way to the ballot boxes, where Mayor Rump was officially ousted, polka-pants and all. Some say he moved to another town where he pushes a pickle cart and hums traditional polkas quietly to himself.

In his place, a new mayor took the stage: none other than Papa G., head of The People’s Polka Party. Under his leadership, Polkaville became a global music capital, where every note or noise was welcome.

Now, if you ever visit Polkatown be sure to visit the downtown bandstand. Every day at sunset, musicians of all ages offer a brand-new version of the Polkaville Anthem—different instruments, different rhythms, but always unmistakably polka.

The soulful sounds remind everyone in Polkaville that music was never meant to be confined to one tradition.

Music is made to be free-spirited. Play on and Power to the Polka People!