I Was Born An Assassin: On Minorities, Agency, and Legitimacy in Video Games
I have been waiting a long time for Assassin’s Creed III (and ACIII:Liberation, but I’ll save that for another post). I pre-ordered my copy, mapped out my gameplay time, and did the happy dance when I learned that my mother would be visiting during the release window so that Pea would be entertained during my absence from the real world. Who would’ve thunk it? Two minority assassins in one game series, both coming out at the same time! I was excited about both games, but had put it in my head that I would play Liberation first. After all considering the fact that Ubisoft had hired a Native American consultant to make sure that they were on the up and up, ACIII was going to be the least problematic of the two, right?
Well, let’s just say that when I heard from a friend that she had been playing ACIII for hours and still hadn’t seen Connor I was a bit intrigued. My response was more like “What the F*ck?” or “You’re F*cking kidding me!”, but let’s just say it was intrigue. So I put my sweet little Aveline (ACIII:Liberation) on the back burner to find out what the hell was going on with Connor. This was his game! This was his story! We are finally going to get to see how Ubisoft (Montreal) was going to deal with not only the wrongs committed against folk of the African diaspora, but also those committed against the indigenous folks that have all but been wiped out in an (ongoing) genocide. I wanted (and still want) to see how Ubisoft is going to make the murder of white men (British and American alike) by a Native American palatable to a predominantly white, American audience.
Now bear with me folks and recognize that this post (and those sure to come later) are not a review of ACIII, but more of a reaction to the game as a cultural artifact as it reveals itself to me through gameplay (ie I reserve the right to rant like a mad woman and then come back later and change my mind). At this point I have played to the end of Sequence 3 (I won’t spoil it by telling you more than that if you haven’t played the game). Even before the game was released I had begun to “write” Connor’s narrative for myself. Piecing it together from the cinematic and gameplay trailers that Ubisoft so strategically released. Connor was the legitimate assassin born of injustice, not patrilineage. (Remember my earlier post about the Connor backstory that was being released in the US and the UK?) He was the one who was going to start taking folks out in retribution! His entire village was destroyed and everyone killed (according to the trailer) so somebody had to pay, right? So he goes to another Native American for his training. He is the First World Assassin. A new breed. He was born of righteousness and his agency allows him to go out looking for some good old fashioned payback!
And then I pushed start. And I met Haytham Kenway, Connor’s father. And I played through his story…a lot. Hours in and I am still friggin’ playing Haytham. Don’t get me wrong…Haytham is a pretty badass assassin, but he ain’t Connor…and he ain’t Native American! He’s just another Brit who’s fighting the Templar and trying to save the world. Yes, I know that eventually he will be Connor’s father, but do I really need to play him for 5 hours and counting before I get to the assassin that Ubisoft has been promising us all from the beginning? And then I calmed down a bit and pried my controller from the newly formed hole in my game room wall and thought about it for a minute.
Why Haytham? What purpose did he serve? Did we have to play interminable hours of Altair and Enzio’s daddies before we got to their stories? Nope, but then they weren’t the minority characters in a still all to problematic racial history of the US.
Ubisoft pulled a bait and switch, it promised us (ok me…but it is all about me, right?) one thing and then proceeded to deliver us something else. With all of this Haytham in my face and in the construction of Connor as an assassin , he (Connor) becomes less of the Native American badass and more of the assassin who harnesses/overcomes/incorporates his savage side to do what all of his great white ancestors have done. Kill Templars (and anyone doing their bidding) rather than a man on a mission to right the wrongs that have been committed against his people (despite his own connection to them via bloodline).
And then, right before I started this post it struck me. I know why Haytham just sticks in my craw! He is the personification of the infamous letter of authenticity that precedes every slave narrative. Yes, I recognize that Connor is neither African (American) nor a slave, but the feeling is still the same. Connor, as Ratonhnhaké:ton, is unworthy of being an assassin. He is tainted. He can only be an assassin (and avenge the deaths of his Native people?) as Connor Kenway, the son of a white man and not the son of a Native American woman. While Ubisoft tries to play up his Native heritage he is another instance of the great White savior coming in to save/avenge the lowly savage. As the game unfolds it becomes clearer and clearer that their representation of Ratonhnhaké:ton was never going to be as problematic as I thought that it was going to be. But hell, call me the eternal optimist (or just the person who doesn’t want to be pissed by a $60 purchase), but I am still optimistic that some good can be pulled out of this in the end.
There is so much to think about/process/vent about here and I have not even gotten to the main content yet (or have I?). I am really looking forward to digging into this game with a critical eye (and ACIII:Liberation) so you folks can expect to hear and see a lot more about this in the coming days, weeks, and months. Also check out episode 45 of the podcast for more discussion of ACIII and history in games more generically.If you like the work we do here at Not Your Mama's Gamer and would like to help support us, please check out our Patreon campaign or the Kickstarter campaign for our video series looking at race and racial representation in video games, Invisibility Blues .