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Looking at the worldview of the Harry Potter universe as a whole, the conflict between Wizards and Muggles is not merely a simple battle of good versus evil. In reality, it is a profound tragedy rooted in fear, misunderstanding, and the desire for power.
"No wonder it sparked so much fear and rejection among Wizards, allowing radicals like Gellert Grindelwald, who preached Wizard supremacy and warned against the threat of Muggle technology, to gain so many followers." Ian understood clearly that what truly frightened Grindelwald was also the Muggles' nuclear weapons.
If one views things from the perspective of the Wizarding community, especially the extremists represented by Gellert Grindelwald, it becomes clear that the ideology of "Wizard rule" did not arise from baseless madness. Instead, it stemmed from a deeply buried survival instinct and fear passed down through generations. This fear had already begun quietly growing from the moment technology first started to emerge.
Grindelwald's gift of prophecy happened to show him the very future Wizards refused to face, a future where Muggles, through their imagination and innovation, surpassed Wizards.
How could Muggles possibly defeat Wizards?
That sense of disparity existed in nearly every Wizard's heart.
To most Wizards, Wizards were the superior race, a more "advanced" evolution. The way they viewed Muggles was much like how mutants viewed ordinary humans.
Even the kinder ones still subconsciously believed Muggles were inferior to themselves. Deep down, that was the truth. And precisely because of that, once they realized Muggles were also capable of "evolving," most Wizards simply could not accept it.
It was this fear of Muggles, along with that sense of imbalance, that paved the way for Grindelwald's rise, allowing him to rally countless followers and unleash a storm that swept across the world.
Of course, it was not merely about preserving their superiority. The roots of this fear could be traced back to the Middle Ages. Before the signing of the International Statute of Secrecy, the Wizarding World existed openly. However, Muggle society's fear of the unknown had reached its peak, and they regarded Wizards as heretics and servants of the devil.
The shadow of the witch hunts became a nightmare engraved into the collective memory of every Wizarding household. Wizards burning at the stake, witches bound in chains and tortured, these painful histories were not legends, but real collective trauma. Through ignorance and violence, Muggles carried out systematic persecution and slaughter against Wizards.
There was no helping it.
Not every Wizard possessed extraordinary magical ability capable of fighting an army alone. Especially before the House faction became mainstream, the abilities of Wizards varied wildly. Many adult Wizards were perhaps not even as skilled in magic as a second-year Hogwarts student.
On top of that, pure-blood families loved intermarrying with one another. The lack of genetic diversity caused many descendants of pure-blood families to become rather unintelligent, further reducing the number of truly exceptional Wizards.
It was precisely because of this widespread reality that, even though Wizards possessed the idealistic power known as magic, they still could not withstand the schemes and overwhelming numbers of Muggles.
How should one put it? It was actually understandable, just like how even a well-equipped modern mechanized force could be drowned beneath a tide of riflemen. Many differences in firepower could be compensated for through sheer numbers.
If even gunfire and artillery could produce such results, then it was even more true in an age where the average magical ability was only roughly equivalent to that of a new Hogwarts student. In that era, the capable Wizards were incredibly powerful, while the weak ones were disastrously weak. It was quite similar to the Africa Ian currently found himself in, or rather, the situation back then was even worse than modern-day Africa.
After all, the world had progressed with time. Whether it was the educational methods of wandering schools, the survival rate of apprentices, or the spread of learning materials after the popularization of paper, people in the past simply did not have so many ways to "self-study." Therefore, whether in the West, North, South, or East, Wizards lacking sufficient ability were easily persecuted by Muggles.
Such a past caused Wizards, deep in their subconscious, to treat Muggles not only with arrogance, but also with a kind of instinctive vigilance, like the fear mice feel when encountering cats.
To Wizards, Muggles were no longer merely "non-magical people."
They represented ignorance, cruelty, and destructive threat.
This historical trauma was passed down generation after generation, causing "Muggle = danger" to become an almost instinctive cognition.
The deeper motive behind Wizards wanting to "eliminate" Muggles was not simply racial superiority, but a survival logic driven by fear. In their eyes, Muggles were the executioners who had persecuted them throughout history, the hidden danger threatening their secrecy in the present, and the "barbarians" who might one day launch a devastating war in the future.
Grindelwald's success lay in the way he packaged this deeply rooted fear into an idealistic "salvation" movement. He convinced his followers that stripping Muggles of their autonomy, or even erasing their existence entirely, was not an atrocity, but a "necessary evil" so that all Wizards could live safely and freely.
By the twentieth century, although the signing of the International Statute of Secrecy had allowed the Wizarding World to develop safely in the shadows, that safety remained fragile. Ministries of Magic repeatedly emphasized that Wizards must conceal their identities, use Memory Charms to erase Muggle memories, and that any exposure of magic would bring severe punishment.
This constant state of "hiding" was itself a profound form of insecurity. It constantly reminded Wizards: your power is not permitted, your existence is illegal, and if you are discovered, history's tragedies may repeat themselves.
How could such a situation possibly align with the self-perception of most Wizards?
Weren't Wizards supposed to stand above everyone else?
This forced concealment bred resentment and humiliation.
Many Wizards gradually became inflated with pride and began asking themselves: why should Wizards, who wield true power, hide like rats beneath Muggle society? Why should we, who possess the ability to change the world, submit to a group of "Squibs" who know nothing about magic?
That resentment grew quietly from unnoticed fear.
Grindelwald was precisely the one who keenly grasped and amplified this widespread fear and resentment. He did not create hatred from nothing. Rather, he refined the long-suppressed trauma and injustice buried deep within the Wizarding community into an extremely inflammatory political doctrine.
He declared:
"For the Greater Good."
Wizards should no longer hide, but instead rise up and rule over Muggles in order to protect the entire magical world from future persecution.
In Grindelwald's eyes, the development of Muggle technology, airplanes, automobiles, radio broadcasts, symbolized an uncontrollable and destructive force.
Muggles were relying on technology to grasp powers that should belong only to Wizards.
He foresaw Muggles using those weapons to slaughter one another, and eventually threatening the safety of Wizards as well. Therefore, eliminating or ruling over Muggles was not born from malice, but from preemptive self-defense, a necessary measure to ensure the continued survival of the magical race.
The reason Grindelwald's speeches could rally so many followers was precisely because he provided countless ordinary Wizards with an outlet for their fear.
He transformed vague individual anxieties into a clear collective objective. He told those Wizards trapped in the cracks of Muggle society that their fears were justified, their humiliation was real, and that the solution was to unite together and seize the initiative.
It was upon this foundation that the world Grindelwald described became extraordinarily tempting.
A world led by wise and powerful Wizards, orderly and free from ignorance and chaos. In such a world, the tragedy of witch hunts would never happen again.
Magic would shine openly beneath the light.
Tell me, what Wizard, living every day in fear and anxiety, could possibly resist such temptation?
"The era itself gave birth to Grindelwald's ideology." Ian could sense that even those Wizards currently marveling at Muggle inventions, though outwardly curious, still carried unease deep inside.
If someone were willing to stand up and guide those emotions, then Africa could very well produce another Grindelwald.
Of course, Ian would never become such a person.
He did not belong to this era to begin with.
He already knew clearly how history would develop. At least, neither Muggles nor Wizards would ultimately bring catastrophic influence upon each other, so he had no intention of casually tampering with history.
After watching for a while, Ian lost interest.
These things that seemed endlessly novel to ordinary Wizards were merely things he had witnessed countless times throughout his long life.
Especially in his previous life.
Muggle technology had advanced to the point of reaching the heavens above and the deepest corners below. Plans like the "South Heavenly Gate Project" represented a rate of development that Wizards would not even dare imagine.
Within the 1920s–1940s setting established in the Fantastic Beasts series, Grindelwald's fear of Muggle technology mainly centered on the visibly "destructive" forces of the era: poison gas, tanks, and machine guns from the First World War, along with the even greater massacres he foresaw in the Second World War.
The Muggle development he witnessed was linear progress centered around physical violence and war machines.
However, if one shifts the perspective to the twenty-first century, the era Ian had lived in before crossing over, one would discover that Muggle development had long since surpassed even Grindelwald's wildest nightmares, entering a dimension he could never have imagined: a new age where mythology, science fiction, and cutting-edge technology had merged into one.
Grindelwald's limitation in understanding lay in the fact that he still viewed Muggles as primitive beings "without magic," whose threat extended no further than chemical explosives, steel armies, and incendiary bombs. What he could not comprehend was that, although Muggles did not wield spells or wands, they possessed an even more terrifying power, collective intelligence and infinitely iterative scientific rationality.
This power did not rely on individual talent. Instead, through education, cooperation, and systematic research, it enabled knowledge to grow exponentially.
And the "South Heavenly Gate Project" was the ultimate manifestation of that power.
The "South Heavenly Gate Project" was not a single weapon, but a grand and systematic concept for an aerospace defense and combat network.
It envisioned a three-dimensional system composed of massive aerospace carriers, transformable aerospace fighters, and orbital defense platforms.
This had already far surpassed the bombers and airships that Grindelwald feared.
Just imagine it: in Grindelwald's eyes, flying brooms and Apparition were already miraculous forms of magic. Yet Muggles were capable of designing gigantic warships that could freely travel inside and outside the atmosphere, perform hypersonic flight, and perhaps even carry directed-energy weapons.
These "steel dragons" required no magical power at all. By relying solely on humanity's understanding of the laws of physics, they could establish mobile fortresses above the clouds, whose scale and might would make any Wizard castle seem insignificant in comparison.
Ian had seen such things with his own eyes.
That reality was far more convincing than prophecy itself.
Precisely because of that, in comparison, something like a telephone from the early stages of technological development, a bulky brick-like device, truly failed to spark Ian's interest or curiosity.
He turned away from the noisy exhibition area and walked toward the dimly lit, deserted corners near the edge of the marketplace.
At the end of a dead-end alley piled with abandoned wooden crates and junk, Ian stopped.
The place was silent and empty, with only the faint noise of the market echoing in the distance.
"The timing should be about right now."
He checked the beast-skin map hidden in his robes once more before taking out the black wooden box.
Opening the lid, he found inside what appeared to be an ordinary pebble, smooth on the surface and icy to the touch.
This was the Portkey leading to the African Ministry of Magic.
"Let's see how Newt's interrogation is going."
Ian took a deep breath and firmly pressed his hand against the pebble. Following Babua's instructions, he infused it with a thread of pure magical power.
The familiar sensation came instantly, the feeling as though a hook had suddenly yanked him by the navel.
The scenery around him twisted, spun, and stretched into blurred streams of color.
The crates, the walls, the ground, all vanished, as though he had been swept into a dazzling multicolored vortex.
The sensation did not last long, perhaps only a few seconds.
When his feet finally touched solid ground again and the world stabilized around him, a pungent odor invaded his nose: a mixture of disinfectant and some kind of cheap air freshener.
"Looks like there are plenty of people with body odor in Africa too."
Ian understood very well that perfume had originally been invented to cover up body odor. Otherwise, why would Westerners rely so heavily on perfume while Easterners generally do not?
Wasn't it because Westerners tended to have stronger body odor, which led to the invention of perfume in the first place?
Easterners, meanwhile, simply admired floral fragrances, so they often created natural perfumes from flowers.
"Let's see whether this Portkey is some kind of entrapment trap."
Ian steadied himself and surveyed his surroundings.
The facts quickly proved that he had been overthinking things.
He was standing inside a cramped space lined with white ceramic tiles.
In front of him was a porcelain toilet, and a roll of toilet paper hung from the nearby wall.
Above him, an energy-saving lamp cast a deathly pale light.
There were no Ministry enforcers lying in wait.
This place was unmistakably… a bathroom stall.
And it was completely empty.
Still, Ian quickly regained his composure.
At the very least, the Portkey had delivered him accurately without triggering any alarms or leading him into a trap.
"Honestly, this is even more absurd than getting caught in entrapment. It just proves how severe the corruption inside the African Ministry of Magic really is."
Ian gently pushed open the stall door and stepped outside.
Beyond it was a public restroom lined with sinks. The place appeared clean and tidy, yet entirely deserted.
The clock on the wall showed that it was a little past two in the morning.
And thus, the African Ministry of Magic's night shift officially welcomed an uninvited legendary guest.
Ian adjusted his robes, his gaze sharpening into something focused and dangerous.
Like a cheetah melting into the shadows, he silently pushed open the restroom door and stepped into the quiet, empty corridor beyond.
No alarms were triggered.
(End of Chapter)