Ade's Word on Racism (Part I)
It could only be in the U.S., the land of the free, home of the brave, where a black man could be so gruesomely murdered in plain view for the community, and the world at large, by a white officer sworn to serve and protect him. It could only be the American police who would, in such a situation, be more ready to reach for a weapon and block the view of cameras to ward off members of the community as their colleague forcibly took the life of a citizen than they were to care about the welfare of their victim for nearly nine minutes.
Only that country that produced, and worked so hard to discredit, undermine, and destroy the lives of such great thinkers as Angela Davis, MLK, Malcolm X, and Maya Angelou. Only there is where the simple assertion: “black lives matter” is tantamount to incitement and becomes the starting point of a period of negotiation and contestation for the public and policy makers alike. It really could only be that tinderbox of racial tension and animus / where racial tension and animus have long brewed, where a black man could be murdered in front of the world’s eyes and there would still be uncertainty about there being any actual recompense/redress for the victim and his family. Only that shining city on the hill whose residents, overlooking the valley where souls have long sung the words “we shall overcome”, “no justice, no peace”, and now, “hands up don’t shoot” and “I can’t breathe” could turn a blind eye, deaf ear, and choose to remain mute ‘til this moment.
If it truly were though, why then have citizens erupted in protest the world over? Why then have people in fifty countries, from Canada to New Zealand, stood in solidarity and taken their governance and policing structures to task nonstop amid a pandemic? Why, if the problem is only one that happens with such frequency and gruesomeness “over there”, has there been such mobilisation in several “over heres”? Simply put, people are beginning, in larger numbers, to realise and understand that viewing racism and its ravages as a problem over there, is to tell tall tales that allow one sleep better, tales that work as comforters amid the stresses of reality. Along with two million, just over half of whom are in London.
My “over here” is the U.K. For too long over here, there has been a wholesale acceptance of the narrative that creates a dichotomous relationship between racism over there and over here. For too long, many here have conceived of racism as its most violent and vile manifestations. People have convinced themselves that unless it manifests itself in the most graphic, cinematic, and frankly borderline pornographic sense, then it is not racism.
In using the U.S. as the yardstick for what constitutes racism, many in this country have constructed a veil behind which they believe they have successfully hidden. This veneer is built on the idea that there has never been in the U.K. the extensive de jure instituting and reconstructing of racist, segregationist laws as has been the case through the U.S.’ history. There has been a carefully cultivated image of Britain as the paragon of demureness that contrasts with its more crass cousin across the water, choosing not to wade in the waters of evil but instead stick its head above the parapet and stand up to injustice. What those who have tended this manicured garden often neglect to acknowledge though is any deep interrogation of Britain’s crucial role in building and supporting the system of racism we all experience. The choice instead has been one of attempting to rehabilitate its image as a benevolent benefactor, if in word only, that spearheaded the effort to end the slave trade in the person of William Wilberforce (whose family was handsomely compensated for the loss of slave revenue by the British Government).
Despite Britain’s role in engaging in enslavement through capture, purchase, and retrieval, there is a tendency to lean on the words and works of historical individuals in ways that ignore and misconstrue the complexities and nuances in a way that upholds the comforting fiction of Britain being an island of quakers to the very last man, woman, and child. In attempting to convince you of the “great goods” the empire was responsible for, or even how gracious it was to grant freedom and independence to those it forcibly subjugated, defendants will, with the expert ease of a royal wave, gloss over the tactics that resulted in starvation, theft, disenfranchisement, and countless deaths of millions of Africans who simply sought to wrest back the right to self determination.
“For certain groups of non black people, the real indignity is not the injustices enacted on black people but in being forced to reconcile with the reality that the lily-white utopia they’ve convinced themselves exists is far from it”
This over reliance on a phoney, incomplete heritage that lauds its tradition of courteousness, is little more than a patina of faux respectability which need only be lightly scratched for it to disintegrate. In its falling apart, what is revealed is the many ways in which the U.K. has allowed racism - including in its being central to the underpinnings of slavery, imperialism, and colonialism - to retrench and reproduce itself. To that end, I’m hoping to address in some part my conception of racism in the U.K. in particular, which I’m sure can be used in other instances.
Perhaps my simplest articulation is that racism, in no uncertain terms, concerns itself with exerting control over and policing of those considered “other” which in this case is black people. While there is possibly an infinite number of manipulations/ permutations one can offer to outline its functional operation, for me, two serve as a good line of departure. Though distinct in many ways, the reality is that they are incontrovertibly linked. They buttress each other thus allowing for each to reproduce itself and aid the other in its efforts to do so. The first form, primarily concerned with the physical, is to do with state - developed, sanctioned and executed - control and policing, and the second, focused on thought and voice, operates at the societal level. For ease, I’m stealing from a number of incredible intellects including Kopano Ratele and calling the former horizontal - the interrelation between those in society and the latter vertical - both top down and bottom up.
While the first expression varies in its overt and violent expressions, its is nevertheless permeating, or perverse. It is primarily about policing: policing not the body, but thought, voice, and intellect. For me, to be black in Britain is to constantly realise and wrestle with certain uncomfortable truths that do not square with your perception of and hope for yourself, community, and the country. It is to be seen not as part of the polity, but outside it. It often feels like we are considered guilty of thumbing our noses at and causing an affront to the standards of the society (in among other things our clothing, music) which out of its boundlessly benevolent heart permits our existence within it. This view of us as outsiders and guests is what drives the incessant feeling of needing to control who we are, what we do, and how we do it - a control rarely encumbered, and often exacerbated, by class distinctions. This control isn’t always physical, but its consequence is always violent. It exacts a certain type of violence on the psyche of black people, gaslighting and reducing true and deep grievances to banal, petty whinges by unappreciative, selfish children.
We see it in all manner of ways. Many black people know the coded language and looks that explicitly and implicitly show the irritable and irritated feeling characterised by tutting and pearl clutching that spell out “why must everything always be about race with you?” “why do you have to be so black?” I’ve long seen that instantaneous reaction by non-black counterparts to black people attempting to discuss the issue of race points to a deep discomfort. It points to a discomfort born of, as far as I see it, one of two things. The first is a lack of the emotional, intellectual bandwidth or range to explore and critically engage in any serious depth the issue of race/racism and its societal impact. While this is a very critical statement, the reality is that a good proportion of people have never had to wrestle first hand with the multiplicity of ways in which racism affects black people and so have never had to emotionally and intellectually engage with racism beyond the surface level. In addition to this, there are also those who have experienced racism and themselves have not developed the range I speak of.
The second is a discomfort that stems from the understanding that one’s views are both so out of lockstep with what society expects and what is right and should they explicitly voice their truest opinions and views, the polite society they openly repudiate, yet secretly wish to be accepted and hailed by, would roundly reject them. For certain groups of non black people, the real indignity is not the injustices enacted on black people but in being forced to reconcile with the reality that the lily-white utopia they’ve convinced themselves exists is far from it. The real injustice is being asked to confront the truth that far from resolved in any deep, meaningful, and lasting way, racism is still very much alive and brings with it a heavy bill that they have never had to pay/come due. To them, it’s almost as if we exist as this Schrodinger’s black person; they’re never quite sure which one they’ll encounter but each and everyone falls into the camp of being either the uneducated fatherless, feckless, directionless scrounger seeking handouts, or the overeducated, unduly resentful and vengeful black person. Whatever the case, the only guarantee is that any attempt by a black person to challenge the system is due to their being angry and acting above their station. To question the way state and society function to uphold and spread racism is tantamount to a brazen thought crime at worst, and an inability to let things go at best.
There is another category/type of attempted control that is arguably more subtle and though not always coming from a place of cruelty or dismissiveness by individuals, is nevertheless rooted in them. We’ve all heard those people who understand that slavery was, and racism is, a bad thing and will fervently denounce both but will follow up with a question about why you are “bogged down in the past, instead of thinking about how we can move forward?” These people tell you how much they truly abhor racism and what it is doing today, but will remind you that everyone had a racist nan, a slaveholding/trading distant relative that they cannot now disown as that is history that cannot be undone. They’ll remind you that these people whose actions we today admonish were simply products of their time and should not now be held to our standards and will task you as a black person with the homework of coming up with palatable - to them - solutions. A good population of adherents to this position honestly believe that enough has been said about the past and that “focusing” on it can produce no results. This population convinces itself that the kind of apology akin to the words “I’m sorry you feel like that” is sufficient to heal the long traced, deep seated injuries caused by racism.
Such an approach, however, is far from a true attempt at a good faith, meaningful interrogation of the way racism informed and was informed by slavery. It also does little to grapple with the way in which this has since been reproduced in society. The problem though, is that in being firm footed in this thought leads people to believe that the simple act of black people discussing the history of racism is treated as whining, and worse still an attempt to guilt trip or victimise white people into taking responsibility for actions they were not directly implicated in. A further problem is that it allows them the comfort of not confronting head on, in any real way that black people are accustomed to, the depths, intricacies, and widespread impact of racism. The “sorry” is an attempt at bringing about absolution for the more direct or less indirect role their forebears had in perpetuating racism, while simultaneously moving past the ways they themselves have and continue to. It’s almost as though they expect a resolution from those suffering at racism’s sharp end for a future they can be seen as partly responsible for helping to build. The “sorry” does not remove or attempt to grapple with how people can be beneficiaries of the legacy of racism.
A recent, inarguably simplistic, example I gave to a mate was to imagine sitting a test, and you get your results back saying you got 25%. The teacher does not tell you which questions you got right, nor do they tell you what you can work and improve on. Then they tell you that you’ll have to resit the exam same test in a week. Would your insistence on getting a copy of your test sheet complete with marking and possibly notes so that you can better prepare for the resit be considered “bogged down in the past, instead of thinking about how we can move forward”? If not, then the question becomes why is this retort, irrespective of its being rooted in genuine interest, such a quick and easy go to? Perhaps, as has been highlighted by a considerable number of people, it’s because doing otherwise would require grappling with one’s own complicity in issues and such a thing - self critique that can show oneself to be in lesser standing than previously imagined - is an incredibly difficult experience.
While, as I said, there is a well-meaning population that engages in such rhetoric that has the consequence of controlling thought and speech, the logical extension and continuation of this is the more knowing and pernicious weaponisation of this rhetorical tactic. Distorting facts and in search of a quick trolly soundbite that can be used on Youtube as an “{insert name} owns lib”, these people speak with all the confidence, and assume themselves to be the reincarnations and intellectual progeny, of ancient scholars, with none of the substantive thought processes, wit, charm, or scything intellect. They perceive of the black thought challenging structural and social injustices as something that must be met with a charge of questionable patriotism, dual loyalty, even bordering on moral treason. They believe that black people must endure the indignity of racism demurely, engaging in a respectability politics that soothes and pays deference to them, and any eschewing from this is considered evidence of our unruliness and thus defence for their stereotyping and controlling of our thoughts and voices.
There seems to be this reflexive instantaneous pivot away from the substantive social, structural, and policy issues being called out by black people. They rely on the same tranche/repertoire of quick meaningless rebuttals: “what about black on black crime?”; “the real issue is a lack of fathers and welfare queens”; “immigrants stealing jobs from/financially undercutting black people”. While prima facie these seem like earnest arguments worth engaging with little more than derision, they are not. Their proponents can never explain why white on white crime is proportionally on par with, often higher, than “black on black crime”. They are loathe to admit that nebulous phenomenon of criminality is largely one of proximity. They never question the over criminalisation of black people from school to prison or seek to challenge the criminal justice system to do more to rehabilitate ex prisoners. They are disinterested in any conversation about the reality that not only do companies under pay black people, but also exploit what they consider cheap labour in immigrants. Their ostensive interest stops at the water’s edge of asking why; black countries are no more deadly than white ones; the city with the highest density of black people is not the site with the highest crime rates; or drug use is no higher among black people than white? They reduce an entire movement discussing deep rooted issues to the toppling of the odd statue accusing black people of blithely and blindly destroying the fabric and history of the country because we’ve supposedly never really loved, wanted to belong to, or played a crucial role in it. They are more deeply concerned with any attempt to show the totality of historical figures they’ve long lionised that would result in their diminishing and exposure as little more than vile men who sought to rape, pillage, kill, and own black people. To them, the diversity of history is not true history - only that which exalts the exceptionalism of white men and a handful of black people who engaged in the kind of respectability they would have admonished had they lived in those eras, must be deemed the one true history.
The reality is that this reaction of turning away from the issue at hand, or calling black people thugs and other such degrading insults does a considerable amount to expose them not to be the paragons of intellectualism they believe themselves to be, but as the loud mouthed, fast talking, substance lacking, snowflakes they take such glee in deriding others to be. They are quick to anger when the charge of racism is levelled, and slow to engage in the work required to undermine racism in all its forms, including to simply stop doing and saying racist things themselves.
Black people are asked to remain silent about internalised personal and community issues as well as the attendant trauma. We are asked to keep it from the public square simply because honest engagement by black people of the real issues that affect us are uncomfortable. Black people are charged with the imagined sin of infusing “racial politics” into what are supposed to be respectable neutral zones devoid of confrontation when in fact they are anything but. This complaint of bringing chaos to the doorstep of a place of comfort is reflected in the idea that black athletes and entertainers, like their non-black colleagues, are simply creatures meant to indulge our consumerism and appetite for entertainment not beings with humanity and lived experiences or feelings. They are not taxpayers, voters, community members, with as much inherent right as their detractors to discuss issues that affect them, their communities, and people who look, walk, talk, and pray like them. There is a misguided charge that presumes the wealth these black entertainers accrue has inured them from “real” racism. “Real” racism typified by the violence I mentioned earlier is what happens to “real” everyday people. That you’re jeered at by people making monkey chants, have pundits denounce you as somehow unruly and poisonous in locker rooms, have the word nigger painted on your home is little more than an inconvenience given you have a plush bed on which to lay your head at night and a nice car to drive. It is believed that somehow the perquisites of their job preclude them both from experiencing racism and having the prerequisite political and philosophical sophistication deemed worthy to speak on it. However, when black entertainers attempt to use their means to effect some iota of change that can combat the issues in black communities, as is the only advice non-black detractors seem to rely on, they are seen as committing yet another moral crime. That Stormzy sets up a fund to help black students attend university, or Anthony Joshua calls on black people to spend money in Afro-Caribbean communities, as Akala puts it, is little more than class treachery. There is, in my view, this idea that: “we have made you what you are, your talents and hard work notwithstanding, and so now we expect you to act in accordance with how we think and feel, including avoiding any action that can show the intertwined way in which classism and racism uphold each other”. Those who crow about economic empowerment recoil at the idea that black people might be interested in substantively rather than superficially helping other black people. They complain that these attempts by people of means to execute the function of the government is done to perpetuate racism, and ask why it is that these efforts are not being directed to white people and their communities as well.
Complex and overbearing as it all seems to encounter and attempt to counter the multifarious nature of racism as we see it in everyday society, its manifestations are not relegated to solely this area. The next part of this series will look at the other critical contact point highlighted earlier - the vertical manifestations of racism. In the next piece, I’ll be focusing on how the examples of racism listed here often find their source in the expansive entity we call the state, as well as how the state can itself be a distributor and reinforcer of these examples. I’ll be grappling with things such as the weaponisation of whiteness as a counter to blackness and axes of confrontation within the state including.
In keeping with my tendency to qualify almost everything I say, I’d like to couch this thought piece by saying this reflects how I see and have experienced things as a black man, not the only black man or person, in the U.K. Like countless others, I’ve been feeling a bit down in the dumps, worn out, overwhelmed, and quite frankly struggling to articulate how I feel about all of this. That said, I’ve finally built up the courage and I guess energy to put down some words and thoughts. By no means does this attempt to capture the entirety of the issue, but I hope it serves as a primer on how I and some others perceive what’s currently going on.
Ade Obafemi-Olopade
@_demiju