Week 4 - 2021 begins to settle in...
I chew on the implications of the Capitol storming, and what it means when we use the term 'oppressor'.
Although I spend a not-insignificant amount of time kvetching about Twitter, it operates as an incredible discovery mechanism. Earlier this week, the algorithm sent a long blog post my way, titled ‘The QAnon Shaman Reminds Me of My Best Friend, and Other Musings on Saving Democracy’. The piece was both intriguing and challenging, a wonderful combination.
And through internal reflection — and this is difficult to admit — I realized that I could relate to the pain of despondent Trump voters, because I knew what it’s like to feel invisible in America. The key difference between me and them is how we’ve been conditioned to deal with our pain.
The author, Panthea Lee, whose bio reads ‘structural justice x active democracy x radical love’, speaks to her attempts to understand the likes of those who stormed the Capitol, the ‘consequences of invisibility’, and the dangers of a racial justice approach that does not take into account the impacts of economic inequality (class).
On the one hand, yes, Black and brown communities historically and presently fare worse on just about every socioeconomic indicator because structural racism is embedded in the very fabric of this country, and is central to the larger project of Western imperialism. But I also know that marginalization manifests in many ways; while race is a key dimension, it’s not the only one. So while I’m relieved that racial justice is at long last being centered in mainstream discourse, I’ve wondered about the unintended consequences of displacing class-based or intersectional analyses. After all, working class white people have long been exploited by wealthy white elites to serve their economic and political ambitions. Does a focus on race-based analyses conveniently obscure this critical point?
I can’t help but wonder: Have American elites embraced racial justice because it is comparatively easier to address via a surface-level approach, and because doing so lets them off the hook around larger systemic change?
While reading Lee’s piece, I found myself battling competing emotions. One, existentially frustrated, and the other, unexpectedly… glad to hear a perspective rooted in pragmatism.
What do I mean?
Let’s start with the frustrated.
Part of my fear when I consider embracing the humanity of those who ostensibly despise me and folks like me (whether Muslim, Immigrant, African, Woman, etc), is that I let them off the hook. Why should I, some part of me screams, be the bigger person? Why should I be the one who embraces their humanity, looks for connection, provide them a safe space to grow when their rhetoric and actions cause me direct and indirect harm? The expectation that I should ‘go high’, despite others ‘going low’, irritates me, gets under my skin, makes me want to be the most petty, petulant version of myself. No, no, no! My gut says. Where is the accountability?
But…if I am petulant and petty, where does that get us? Who does it serve, aside from my ego? Do I want to be right, or do I want to be effective? (Is it even a binary?) Also, a voice whispers, remember the example of the Prophet (SAW). Don’t do it for them, do it for Allah…
Hmm…
The secondary fear is that by focusing on the individuals, I take my eye off the structural ball. This was the main red flag my little grey cells raised while reading Lee’s piece. In reality, I’m a big fan of the importance of understanding, and human connection, a deep believer in its power to create bonds and unlikely alliances. Some of my staunchest defenders when I was torn apart in the press were white working class men who I shared instant coffee with in dongas around Australia while on the rigs. But. Human connection doth not structural change make. To genuinely shift the axes of power in white supremacy, patriarchy, imperalism et. al, changes must be legislative, reparative, substantive. Ultimately, despite my empathy and understanding of the working class white man and their fondness of me on a human level, I was denied substantive power, offered no structural protection. When the rubber hits the road, power is what allows one to chart their own path, make their own decisions, have dignity, autonomy, justice. I’m not convinced that having empathy for an oppressor is the path to power.
That being said… Lee’s perspective is not without merit. In fact, where I have settled, as is often the case, is that perhaps there is truth and value in all our approaches.
Yes, there is value in choosing to try to understand those who are ‘on the other side’. We cannot overcome what we do not understand. Yes, our approaches must be intersectional: racial justice is incomplete without economic justice, gender justice, geopolitical justice and so on. We would do well to avoid the comfortable trap of myopia (and I say that to myself as much as anyone else!).
But in addition to this: as much as structures are made of people, they are also made of laws, policies, regulations, norms. Transformative change cannot occur without shifts in these spaces as well, with a clear focus on implementation, because there’s no point in having equality on paper if that’s not what happens in reality. There’s still too large a gap between who nations say they are and who they actually turn out to be. So, as long as the desire for empathy and understanding is paired with a hard-nosed focus on systemic change, I’m all for it. We need to use all the tools at our disposal, and… remember to not lose ourselves in the process.
Lose ourselves in the process? What could I possibly mean?
Well. My third fear, a quieter one that doesn’t get much airtime, is what I term the Anakin Skywalker effect. After all, Darth Vader was originally a Jedi. So the question I ask myself is, how do we protect ourselves from turning into the exact things we stand against…? Paulo Freire talks to this much more eloquently in the Pedagogy of the Oppressed, and I feel the urgency of his provocation now more than ever. I think part of the answer lies in Lee’s suggestion of doing our bit of the work.
We cannot applaud Gorman’s call to rebuild and reconcile, then refuse to do the work it takes. It will be hard, even excruciating, work. But I believe there is light in all humans — diverse and battered, but still so beautiful — if we’re brave enough to see it.
A final note. I find myself discomforted by my own use of the term ‘oppressor’. As a dear friend said to me recently, we all have ‘complex experiences of privilege and oppression’. That is especially pertinent for someone like me - who was born in Sudan, but grew up in Australia, educated, middle class, with a socially acceptable English accent and a passport that allows me access to places my cousins only dream of. Structurally, I both experience oppression, and oppress others (or at the very least, benefit from systems that do). What does it mean to speak of the ‘oppressed’ and the ‘oppressor’ in the world we live in today?
Perhaps a post for another day.
What I am reading this week: Looking forward to devouring ‘Empireland’, which I got my hands on this weekend. I remember speaking to the author years ago when it was first coming together, so it’s fantastic to see it out in the world!
What I am watching this week: I’m halfway through Fate: The Winx Saga, which is light supernatural fun (…but can we please start casting main characters in stories like this as anything other than waif-like white girls who are oh-so-special and need their black best friend to save them? Note that all the main characters have a love interest except the dark-skinned black girl? I mean, it’s fantasy, folks. Let’s mix it up, shall we?)
What I am listening to this week: Tortoise has a heartwrenching but vital podcast series out now, on ‘hidden homicides’, women whose murders go unrecognised by police.
What I’m paying attention to this week: The battle inside my favourite app, Signal. Oh please oh please, folks! Don’t screw it up!
What is NEWS for next week: My third book comes out this week in Australia and New Zealand! It would mean the world if you grabbed a copy of Listen Layla from your local independent bookstore and let me know what you think :) I also did a radio interview about it, which you can listen to here.
Thanks for subscribing and reading this week’s edition of Diasporan Diaries. Please comment with thoughts, questions, critiques…and share if it resonated. I read every single one of your emails and comments, even if unfortunately I do not get the chance to reply to all of them. Rest assured they are read, and greatly appreciated.
Much love, strength and safety to you all.
Best,
Yassmin
I think that what you describe beautifully in this piece is an ongoing dilemma for those of us committed in some way to a better world. I started off my career as a social worker. In this world empathy is a key to change at an individual level. Later I became involved as an environmental activist. My normal negotiating skills didn’t work. An older, wiser person, said to me that “Sometimes you have to draw a line in the sand and be prepared to fight.” This was shocking at first, but eventually I understood the wisdom. Later in my career I was an advocate for refugee rights and against institutionalized poverty. This was an endless balancing act between when to empathize and when to fight. I am never sure that I get the balance right, but I reassure myself that at least thinking about the issue, increases my chances.
Len
Not sure what l think about those that stormed the capital. White privileged is the elephant in the room here. Change it to a Coloured president spouting lies to his majority coloured supporters. Goes without saying what would have occurred to the rioters and the out going president impeachment process.
So as a white, late 50’s male, born in Victoria Australia to a good family how do l provide any sort of understanding of BLM, Trumpers etc. I couldn’t as a humane be give an greater advantages in life and l constantly struggle with my frustration of privilege. Walk a mile in mile shoes, is how l try to understand those that hate through ignorance, have been brought up with racism as normal as night and day, live pay cheque to pay cheques only see handouts go to those that aren’t even trying. It’s endless the reason and rationalisation people either use or experience. Then l think, well they are all free think individuals that chose to behave in a way they did or should have known was wrong. I’m tied of excusing behaviour because of ignorance particularly white males living in western civilisation.
Reading at present, some of the easiest digestible fiction l could find. Every 3 or 4 books l need something to read like a tv show that doesn’t take much thought. Muhammad Ali autobiography next up thought.
My thoughts, hope they made some sort of sense 😎