In the line of fire with accusatio

Roopa Banerjee

“You’re saying I’m lying, but isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”

This sentence is a good example of accusatio — a powerful rhetorical and literary device used by speakers/writers to dilute criticism or blame by accusing the accuser of similar wrongdoing. It’s a way of turning the tables and potentially deflecting the focus of an argument.

What is described as ‘whataboutery’ these days, readers will be surprised to learn, is a literary device used for hundreds of years. The purpose of accusatio is to deflect attention from the original accusation and load it onto the accuser. Whether uttered in a courtroom saga, soap opera, or dramatic novel, such statements instantly generate tension and conflict. Accusatio goes beyond pointing fingers; it reveals inner turmoil, character motivation, and societal truths, triggering a dramatic shift in the narrative.

Inevitably, accusatio has Latin roots, derived from the verb accusare, which means “to accuse” or “to call to account.”

In ancient times, accusatio was used in legal arguments, but over time, moved beyond the courtroom and into literature and drama, where it became a useful literary device for conflict, character development, and moral exploration. Its power lies not only in the accusation itself but in the reaction it provokes and unravelling of truth that follows.

In literature, accusatio carries emotional heft. A notable example is in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. In this play, set during the Salem witch trials, accusations of witchcraft, fuelled by personal grudges and collective hysteria, spiral out of control. Abigail Williams, one of the protagonists, manipulates her position by accusing Elizabeth Proctor of witchcraft to eliminate her as a romantic rival. The accusation is personal and socially explosive, setting in motion a tragic chain of events. Here, accusatio is not merely a rhetorical device — it becomes a weapon to shape reality and fate.

Another classic literary instance of accusatio is in Kazuo Ishiguro’s Remains of the Day where dutiful butler Stevens faces a quiet, internal form of accusation, one that emerges from within himself. As he reflects on his past service to Lord Darlington, Stevens confronts the moral implications of blind loyalty. Though no one explicitly accuses him, the narrative gradually builds a case against his emotional repression. This introspective form of accusatio reveals how characters can be the accuser and accused.

In pop culture, accusatio often fuels the central conflict of stories. In the television series Big Little Lies, accusations drive much of the plot. Characters accuse one another of betrayal, bad parenting, and violence, creating a simmering atmosphere of distrust.

Another striking example is provided by Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling, when Harry accuses Dumbledore of withholding information from him after the death of Sirius Black. Harry’s grief boils over into direct accusation.

Accusatio serves the dual function of revealing deep-seated emotions testing the reader’s moral compass. Sometimes, the accusation is unjust, and innocents suffer. Other times, the accusation forces a reckoning, bringing long-hidden truths to the surface. Either way, accusatio highlights the complexity of human nature.

Accusations spark movement in a story. Accusatio is a compelling literary device because it reflects basic traits of human interaction: the need to confront, to be heard, and to hold others accountable.

Exercise

Here are some examples of books that use accusatio as their central theme. Name the authors.

Books