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n a troubling revelation from a recent AAPI Data and The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research poll, approximately one in three Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders have faced racial abuse within the past year. This statistic underscores the continued presence of racial discrimination and the urgent need for impactful legislation and community support.

Despite legislative efforts and increased public advocacy following a rise in anti-Asian sentiment during the pandemic, the challenges of racial discrimination persist for Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) communities. The poll indicates that roughly 33% of AAPI individuals have encountered racial or ethnic abuse, including verbal harassment, slurs, and threats, both physical and online.

The survey, involving 1,178 U.S. adults who identify as Asian, Native Hawaiian, or Pacific Islanders, was conducted from October 10-20, 2023. The findings, which carry a margin of error of plus or minus 4.2 percentage points, reveal an unsettling landscape of racial hostility despite increased awareness and anti-racism measures.

Enduring effects of hate crimes

The poll further suggests that 15% of AAPI respondents believe they have been victims of a hate crime, while over half perceive racism as a severe issue in the United States. This sentiment is echoed in personal experiences shared by individuals like Jennifer Lee, a Filipino American in San Diego, who recounts instances of discrimination and racial slurs, including during a recent job interview.

The report’s timing is significant as it follows the FBI’s announcement of an overall 7% increase in hate crimes, contrasting with a reported 33% decrease in anti-Asian incidents in 2022 from the prior year. Advocacy groups like Stop AAPI Hate emphasize the likelihood of underreporting within the community, highlighting the persistent fear and stigma associated with hate crimes.

The survey’s political implications are notable, with President Joe Biden receiving mixed reviews from the AAPI community, showing a 52% favorability rating. This stands in contrast to former President Donald Trump, who garners an unfavorable opinion from 70% of the respondents. The data suggests that AAPI voters, traditionally leaning Democratic, may impact upcoming elections, underscoring the need for political parties to engage more deeply with these communities.

Concerns about the potential re-election of Trump

Individuals like Thomas Lee from Long Island, New York, express concerns about the potential re-election of Trump, fearing an escalation in discrimination and hate crimes. The sentiment reflects a broader apprehension among AAPI individuals about the current political climate and its impact on racial tensions.

The survey shines a spotlight on the diverse experiences within the AAPI community, from the fear of hate crimes to the everyday challenges of discrimination. Advocates call for greater awareness beyond high-profile hate crimes, pointing to the frequent occurrences of verbal harassment and civil rights violations that affect daily life.

As the nation continues to grapple with racial issues, the AAPI community’s experiences serve as a stark reminder of the work that remains. The call for effective action and solidarity has never been more pressing, urging society and its leaders to foster a more inclusive and safer environment for all.

The AAPI Data and AP-NORC survey not only provides insights into the present challenges faced by Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders but also acts as a catalyst for future change. It is a call to action for community leaders, policymakers, and every individual to stand against racism and build a more equitable society.

As the United States looks forward, the need for continued vigilance, education, and policy reform is clear. The AAPI community’s experiences and voices must be integral to the national dialogue on race, ensuring that the ideals of diversity and inclusion are not merely aspirational but realized in everyday practice.

The persistence of racial abuse against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, as revealed by the AAPI Data and AP-NORC poll, is a stark reminder of the long road ahead in the fight against racism. While progress has been made, there is a vital need for sustained effort and collective action to eradicate hate and ensure equality for all. The resilience and advocacy of the AAPI community continue to be a beacon of hope and a driving force for change.

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new study has brought to light the pervasive nature of racism faced by Muslim men in Germany, with over 40% reporting experiences of racial discrimination in their daily lives. The findings, released on November 7, by the German Center for Integration and Migration Research (Dezim) in Berlin, indicate that 41.2% of Muslim men feel affected by racism.

The report underscores discrimination encounters in public offices and interactions with authorities, including the police. A notable 39% of Muslim men recounted more frequent experiences of discrimination within the police force, while a significant 51% reported adverse experiences when dealing with public offices and authorities.

Muslim women also face substantial discrimination, with 46% reporting similar experiences in offices and authorities. The figure drops to 25% when referring to interactions with the police.

Discrimination in Germany’s healthcare system

The study also highlighted discrimination in Germany’s healthcare system. Frank Kalter, the director of the Dezim Institute, noted that individuals who are racially characterized often receive inferior appointments and their grievances are less acknowledged.

This alarming revelation comes at a time when Germany’s government, led by Chancellor Olaf Scholz, is expressing concern over rising anti-Muslim racism in the aftermath of the recent Gaza war that began on October 7. Government spokesman Steffen Hebestreit stated that any attacks on Muslims, whether for religious reasons or otherwise, are “absolutely unacceptable.”

The nearly 5 million Muslims residing in Germany have an inherent right to protection, he asserted at a news conference in Berlin.

Last week, the Berlin-based Alliance Against Islamophobia and Anti-Muslim Hate (CLAIM) warned of escalating anti-Muslim racism amidst the intensifying conflict between Israel and Palestine. Rima Hanano, head of CLAIM, emphasized the urgent need to address the uptick in anti-Muslim racism, which threatens social cohesion.

CLAIM has documented numerous instances of anti-Muslim threats, violence, and discrimination in a short span, including attacks on mosques. The organization highlighted that many incidents likely go unreported, particularly in the realm of online hate speech.

The NGO advocates for comprehensive measures to counter anti-Muslim racism and safeguard those affected. “It is imperative for our democracy and societal cohesion to actively combat anti-Muslim racism, antisemitism, and other misanthropic ideologies,” CLAIM asserts, emphasizing the immediate need for action.

The recent study and calls from advocacy groups serve as a stark reminder of the challenges facing Muslim communities in Germany and the importance of concerted efforts to foster an inclusive and equitable society.

Source: Anadolu Agency

In recent years, the rapid advancement of Artificial Intelligence (AI) has sparked both excitement and apprehension about its potential impact on our daily lives and the future of humanity. As AI becomes increasingly integrated into various aspects of society, from banking and shopping to job applications, concerns about its inherent biases and discriminatory tendencies have come to the forefront. Perhaps one of the most alarming issues surrounding AI is the presence of racism.

AI algorithms rely on vast amounts of data to make decisions, and this data is often sourced from historical records and human interactions. The legacy of racism, unfortunately, is deeply ingrained in our historical data, leading to biases being unintentionally encoded into AI systems. These biases can manifest in various forms, including racial profiling, prejudiced hiring practices, and unfair treatment in areas like banking and lending.

In Is Artificial Intelligence Racist?: The Ethics of AI and the Future of Humanity Arshin Adib-Moghaddam explores the troubling presence of racism within the very fabric of the algorithms that now govern our daily lives. This thought-provoking book takes readers on a journey through the history of enlightenment racism and its connection to the discriminatory practices embedded in modern-day Artificial Intelligence (AI) systems.

Providing an examination of the data that feeds into AI technology and how it will inevitably shape the future of humanity, Adib-Moghaddam unveils the profound implications of such data-driven technology on international security and human rights, urging readers to confront the potential consequences of unbridled AI development.

The book delves into the narratives surrounding the birth and progression of AI systems, placing particular emphasis on the influence of tech giants like Mark Zuckerberg, Elon Musk, and Bill Gates. Through this exploration, the author sheds light on how technology inadvertently assists and enables various forms of extremism, perpetuates social hierarchies, and reinforces discriminatory boundaries within our societies.

From the War on Terror to the far-right conspiracies, Islamophobia manifests in various forms. In today’s world, systemic Islamophobia continues to cast a long and dark shadow over the lives of Muslims across continents. Rooted in historical and contemporary contexts, this pervasive form of discrimination and prejudice has significant implications for individuals, communities, and societies at large.

Systemic Islamophobia operates within power structures, institutions, and cultural biases, perpetuating inequality, marginalization, and the violation of human rights. Implicitly and explicitly, Islamophobia is reinforced by various layers of society, including governments around the world.

While its manifestations may differ from one region to another, systemic Islamophobia shares commonalities across countries and societies. It operates as a product of historical legacies, geopolitical dynamics, cultural narratives, and power imbalances. It thrives in contexts where Muslims are viewed as the “Other,” perpetuating stereotypes, prejudices, and negative portrayals that undermine their rights, dignity, and societal inclusion.

The impact of systemic Islamophobia is far-reaching. Muslim individuals and communities face challenges in various domains of life, as the titles included in this Bundle will show. They experience heightened surveillance, racial profiling, and discriminatory legislation, hindering the realization of fundamental human rights and the pursuit of justice and equality. Furthermore, the interconnetedness of discrimination makes the issue even more pressing for all.

Recognizing and understanding systemic Islamophobia is essential for dismantling its deeply entrenched structures. It requires comprehensive analysis, dialogue, and collective action which this collection hopes to envoke.

The Rise of Global Islamophobia in the War on Terror: Coloniality, Race, and Islam delves into the complex and far-reaching consequences of the ‘War on Terror’ on global perceptions of Muslims. The book examines the intersection between Islamophobia, and various social, economic, and political factors that have shaped its prevalence.

The authors convincingly argue that the ‘War on Terror’ has not only intensified anti-Muslim racism but has also provided a framework that perpetuates a global Islamophobic narrative. By framing Muslims a perpetual enemy, this conflict has fostered a climate of fear and suspicion, fueling the growth of nativist and populist movements worldwide.

One of the book’s strengths lies in its comprehensive analysis of the different forms and manifestations of Islamophobia. Through an examination of localized histories, conflicts, and contemporary geopolitical realities, the authors map out the intricate ways in which Islamophobia has taken shape across the global North and South. This approach adds depth to the understanding of the diverse factors contributing to the rise of anti-Muslim sentiment.

The book offers a nuanced and comprehensive analysis of the connections between interpersonal and institutional racism. While highlighting the deeply rooted nature of Islamophobia, the book also sheds light on the activism and resistance that have emerged to confront this issue. By featuring narratives of individuals and groups challenging Islamophobia, the authors provide hope and inspiration for those seeking to combat this pervasive form of discrimination.

Naved Bakali and Farid Hafez, The rise of global Islamophobia in the War on Terror: Coloniality, race, and Islam (Manchester University Press 2022) ISBN: 978-1-5261-6175-8, 264 pages

Islamophobia in France: The Construction of the “Muslim Problem” presents a groundbreaking examination of the multifaceted nature of Islamophobia in the country. Authored by Abdellali Hajjat and Marwan Mohammed, the book challenges the prevailing notion that Islamophobia arises solely from individual bias but rather that Islamophobia in France is deeply entrenched within existing structures of power and control.

The book sheds light on pivotal moments in French history that have contributed to the marginalization of Muslim communities. It highlights the 2004 ban on veils in schools, followed by the 2010 legislation that prohibited face-covering clothing in public spaces, primarily targeting women who wear burqas. President Emmanuel Macron’s public statements regarding the hijab’s compatibility with French ideals further illustrate the pervasive Islamophobia within the country. These cultural biases not only perpetuate discriminatory practices but also position the Muslim population as scapegoats for broader issues surrounding immigration in France.

Hajjat and Mohammed go beyond surface-level analysis to uncover the structural dimensions of Islamophobia in France. They argue that French elites strategically employ Islamophobia as a state technology to exert control and contest the presence of specific groups of postcolonial immigrants and their descendants. By exploring the data on Islamophobia and examining its functioning in contemporary French society, the authors paint a comprehensive portrait of the mechanisms through which Islamophobia operates.

Islamophobia in France is an English translation of Abdellali Hajjat and Marwan Mohammed’s Islamophobie: Comment les e´lites franc¸aises fabriquent le “proble`me musulman.” and an essential contribution to the field, providing a nuanced and insightful examination of the systemic nature of Islamophobia and its consequences on Muslim communities in France.

Abdellali Hajjat and Marwan Mohammed, Islamophobia in France: The Construction of the “Muslim Problem” (University of Georgia Press, 2023) ISBN-10 0820363251, 306 pages

In The New Crusades: Islamophobia and the Global War on Muslims Khaled A. Beydoun presents an essential examination of Islamophobia from a legal and ground-up perspective. Drawing on his intellectual prowess and moral imperative, Beydoun presents a compelling analysis of the network of anti-Muslim campaigns unfolding worldwide and offers a comprehensive analysis of how Islamophobia is utilized by both democratic and authoritarian regimes to persecute Muslim populations.

The New Crusades does not shy away from challenging the established narratives. It delves into the role of the War on Terror in fueling and intensifying anti-Muslim campaigns around the world. Beydoun skillfully illustrates how Islamophobia operates as a unifying thread, perpetuating state and social bigotry and igniting hate-mongering from both liberal and right-wing factions. Through trenchant analysis and firsthand accounts from Muslims on the ground, the author brings to light the various manifestations of Islamophobia in Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and beyond.

The book’s global perspective sets it apart, as Beydoun incorporates on-site experiences, interviews, and a diverse range of contexts. This approach enhances the authority of the narrative and makes it accessible and engaging for scholars, students, and the general public.

The New Crusades unravels the distinct systems of demonization and oppression that have emerged across the post-9/11 geopolitical landscape. Whether it is the imposition of hijab bans in France, state-sponsored hate speech and violence in India, or the existence of concentration camps in China, Beydoun examines how Islamophobia operates as a global phenomenon, perpetuating discrimination on multiple fronts.

The book powerfully reveals the unsettling reality that Islamophobia remains one of the few acceptable forms of hate in the world today. By exposing this truth, Beydoun calls attention to the urgent need for collective action against Islamophobia and its far-reaching consequences. By weaving together social science, law, and captivating narratives, the author highlights the pervasive impact of Islamophobia on Muslims across the globe.

Khaled A. Beydoun, The New Crusades: Islamophobia and the Global War on Muslims (University of California Press, 2023) ISBN: 9780520356306, 390 pages

In Fear of a Muslim Planet: Global Islamophobia in the New World Order Arsalan Iftikhar, a renowned American Muslim human rights lawyer, offers a comprehensive exploration of global Islamophobia. The book refers to the chilling reminder of the Christchurch massacre, where a white supremacist perpetrated a horrific act of violence against Muslim worshippers in New Zealand. Iftikhar draws attention to the manifesto left by the attacker, titled “The Great Replacement,” which espoused the belief that Muslims posed a threat and sought to replace white people. This incident serves as a starting point for exploring the dangerous legacy of this theory and its influence on extremist acts.

Iftikhar goes on to emphasize that the victims of the “Great Replacement” theory extend beyond Muslims alone. The tragic attack on the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, which targeted Jewish congregants, exemplifies the broader impact of this ideology including the infamous actions of Norwegian terrorist Anders Breivik.. The perpetrator’s anti-Semitic and Islamophobic motivations, fueled by anti-immigration sentiments, underline the interconnected nature of discrimination.

Throughout the book, Iftikhar critiques the presidency of Donald Trump, which he argues has contributed to the exacerbation of Islamophobia in America. He dissects Trump’s anti-Muslim rhetoric and policies, including his claim that “Islam hates us” and his call for a complete ban on Muslims entering the US. Iftikhar contends that Trump’s leadership has fueled the growth of Islamophobia.

The book goes beyond the United States and the Western world to shed light on global Islamophobia. Iftikhar highlights the genocidal levels of Islamophobia in countries like China and Myanmar, where Muslim communities face severe oppression. Additionally, he addresses the European focus on policing Muslim women’s hijab, exposing discriminatory policies that curtail religious freedom.

Arsalan Iftikhar, Fear of a Muslim Planet: Global Islamophobia in the New World Order (Skyhorse Publishing, 2021) ISBN-13 978-1510761872, 288 pages

The Suspect: Counterterrorism, Islam, and the Security State offers a captivating and deeply personal exploration of the impact that two decades of policing and counterterrorism have had on the state of mind of Muslims in Britain. Drawing from his own experiences, author Rizwaan Sabir takes readers on a compelling journey through British counterterrorism practices and the pervasive policing of Muslims.

Sabir’s narrative describes his wrongful arrest and detention on suspicion of terrorism. He recounts the distressing process of being unjustly made a target in the “war on terror.” With candor and vivid detail, he outlines the events leading up to his arrest, including being found in possession of the Al-Qaeda Training Manual, which he had downloaded for legitimate postgraduate research purposes. Sabir sheds light on the excruciating experience of being subjected to suspicion and surveillance solely based on his Muslim identity.

Throughout the book, Sabir recounts the harrowing aftermath of his arrest. He vividly describes the relentless monitoring and scrutiny he faced upon release from custody. This included frequent stop-and-search encounters, detentions at the border, surveillance by police and government departments, and an attempt by the UK military to recruit him into their psychological warfare unit. The author’s firsthand account provides a chilling insight into the intrusive and discriminatory practices endured by Muslims in the name of national security.

Sabir argues that the profound harm inflicted on individuals like him is not merely the result of government planning errors but rather a deliberate consequence of employing a counterinsurgency warfare approach to combat terrorism and police Muslim communities. Through his writing, Sabir advocates for and building networks of solidarity and support to challenge the injustices perpetuated by these policies and practices.

The Suspect serves as a powerful call to action, urging readers to recognize and resist the profound injustice faced by Muslims. By sharing his story, Sabir empowers readers to challenge the harmful narratives and practices that perpetuate the policing of Muslims.

Rizwaan Sabir, The Suspect: Counterterrorism, Islam, and the Security State (Pluto Press, 2022) ISBN: 9780745338484, 256 pages

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n the realm of international affairs, the actions and decisions of intelligence agencies wield tremendous influence. Yet, the role of Western intelligence agencies in perpetuating global inequalities through racialized and orientalist worldviews has often gone unexamined.

In The Covert Colour Line: The Racialised Politics of Western State Intelligence, Oliver Kearns presents a provocative and eye-opening exploration of the failures within Western intelligence, particularly in the context of the Middle East and North Africa.

The author delves into the repeated intelligence mishaps in Iraq, Libya, and beyond, questioning the prevailing narratives and searching for the underlying causes of these catastrophic mistakes.

Kearns begins by highlighting the prevalent issue of intelligence failures and the persistent search for accountability. While many critics have focused on identifying a smoking gun or examining who misread or manipulated the intelligence, he argues that a crucial truth remains unaddressed: Western intelligence is fundamentally flawed and incapable of truly understanding the world it operates in.

Drawing on a deep analysis of historical context, Kearns explores how the mistakes made by British and U.S. intelligence services since the tragic events of 9/11 are rooted in orientalist worldviews and racist assumptions that originated during the Cold War-era colonial retreat. He puts forth that comprehending this historical backdrop is essential to understanding why anglophone state intelligence agencies struggle to grasp the motives and international solidarities of their perceived adversaries.

The Covert Colour Line challenges the traditional understanding of intelligence and examines its role in perpetuating global inequalities. Kearns argues that the intelligence agencies’ imagination of “non-Western” states and geopolitics, deeply influenced by colonial legacies, significantly shaped British intelligence assessments that subsequently underpinned the ill-fated 2003 invasion of Iraq and subsequent interventions.

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he global ascent of the far right has become an alarming phenomenon, amplified by the distressing normalization of right-wing extremism. From the U.S. to countries across Europe, far right movements have branched out by displaying variation while retaining their core foundations of violence and hatred, and have adeptly aligned themselves with contemporary political issues, exploiting the expansive reach of online platforms to propagate their ideologies.

Right-wing terrorism has swiftly emerged as the rapidest growing and, in some cases, the most prominent domestic security menace, as underscored by the UN Security Council Counter-Terrorism Committee—not to mention the far right’s harmful everyday rhetoric towards migrants and people of color.

In the United States, the number of far right extremist attacks has surpassed other acts of terrorism. The reverberations of heinous incidents like the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting and the Christchurch mosque shootings remain indelible reminders of the terror wrought by far right militants. From eco-fascists to white supremacists, this month’s book bundle encompasses various prominent and influential far-right movements.

By examining the complexities of far right ideologies, their metamorphosis over time, and the necessary measures to confront them, this collection presents an invaluable resource for comprehending and engaging with this pressing global concern.

In Spreading Hate: The Global Rise of White Supremacist Terrorism, Daniel L. Byman presents a comprehensive analysis of the global white power movement, its appeal, and the imminent threat it poses. Byman’s authoritative account spans the movement’s evolution in the United States and worldwide, shedding light on its multifaceted nature.

Drawing from a wide array of sources, Byman dispels prevalent myths surrounding white power terrorism and exposes critical deficiencies in current policies. This negligence towards growing far-right terrorism has resulted in shocking acts of violence, corroding trust in democratic institutions. Byman emphasizes that mitigating this threat necessitates swift and resolute action from governments, treating white power terrorism with the same urgency as jihadist violence.

Byman highlights how white power terrorists exploit mainstream debates, amplifying polarization and yielding significant political impact, even if the death toll remains relatively low. Contrary to popular belief, the movement is not entrenched in a rigid ideology: it is dynamic, draws inspiration from global sources and leverages cutting-edge technologies, particularly social media.

While white power terrorists exhibit vulnerabilities, such as internal divisions, lackluster leadership, and attracting not only dangerous and deluded individuals but also the inept and criminal, their potential for harm remains potent.

Mitigating the dangers of right-wing terrorism entail measures such as robust law enforcement, international intelligence cooperation, stringent regulations imposed by technology companies, and other forceful interventions. Byman not only examines policy solutions but also synthesizes extensive scholarly research, making Spreading Hate essential reading for those concerned about an increasingly interconnected movement that in the years to come harbors the potential to escalate in perilousness.

Daniel Byman, Spreading Hate: The Global Rise of White Supremacist Terrorism (Oxford University Press, 2022) ISBN: 9780197537619, 288 pages

The Rise of Ecofascism: Climate Change and the Far Right delves into the connection between the climate crisis and the rise of the far right, examining their historical roots and contemporary manifestations. By exploring the far right’s evolving stance on the environment, Sam Moore and Alex Roberts reveal a shift in strategy as they come to recognize the impending crisis as an opportunity for resurgence, moving beyond climate denial to conspiracy.

Far right ecologism is brewing within online circles and manifesting as violence on the ground. The authors argue that ecofascism’s dangerous ideology, steeped in hatred is not the answer. Instead, a genuine commitment to climate justice is crucial to combat both the far right and the environmental challenges we face. A must-read for anyone interested in learning about the trend in right-wing extremism or advocating for climate justice, this book offers a powerful critique of emerging ecofascism.

Sam Moore and Alex Roberts, The Rise of Ecofascism: Climate Change and the Far Right (Polity Press, 2022) ISBN: 978-1-509-54537-7, 160 pages

When the Hood Comes Off: Racism and Resistance in the Digital Age is a timely and comprehensive exploration that delves into the manifestations of racism in the digital realm, shedding light on the emerging antiracist strategies deployed to combat it.

Rob Eschmann skillfully weaves together meticulous research and captivating personal anecdotes to uncover how racism thrives online, challenging the notion of a colorblind society. From viral videos capturing police violence against unarmed Black individuals to the exposure of racist messages and hurtful comments on social media platforms, online communication lays bare the workings of racism in our world.

In this thought-provoking study, Eschmann not only examines the impact of online racism on communities of color and society at large, but also uncovers the unexpected ways in which digital technologies facilitate innovative tools of everyday antiracist resistance.

By drawing from a vast array of data, including insightful interviews with students of color and meticulous analyses of millions of social media posts spanning a decade, Eschmann delves into the influence of online communication on face-to-face interactions.

When the Hood Comes Off underscores the internet’s potential as a powerful organizing tool, exposing the transformative power it holds. Furthermore, the book serves as a poignant reminder that online racism can serve as a profound wake-up call, prompting us to reflect on our own responses and actions.

In a world grappling with the implications of pervasive online racism, When the Hood Comes Off: Racism and Resistance in the Digital Age invites readers to contemplate the crucial question of how we will collectively respond to this urgent challenge. Eschmann’s work is a vital contribution to the ongoing conversation surrounding racism and provides valuable insights into harnessing the potential of the digital landscape for meaningful antiracist efforts.

Rob Eschmann, When the Hood Comes Off: Racism and Resistance in the Digital Age (University of California Press, 2023) ISBN: 9780520379749, 312 pages

Ukraine’s Azov Movement has emerged as one of the most audacious and perilous far-right movements worldwide. What are its core values and goals? From the Fires of War: Ukraine’s Azov Movement and the Global Far Right is groundbreaking as the first book to be written in English about Azov. Michael Colborne unveils the origins and rapid evolution of the movement, transforming from a militia composed of marginal far right individuals and football hooligans fighting against Russian-backed forces to a multifaceted social movement that has attracted global far-right admiration.

Colborne delves into the intricate mechanisms through which the Azov Movement emerged and adeptly exploits Ukraine’s fragmented social and political landscape, including the ongoing conflict following Russia’s invasion. From the Fires of War astutely reveals the movement’s grand ambitions and the threats it poses.

Michael Colborne, From the Fires of War: Ukraine’s Azov Movement and the Global Far Right (ibidem Press, 2022) ISBN: 9783838215082, 200 pages

In a critical time for Boris Johnson, Nusrat Ghani’s allegations have roiled the Conservative Party. The prime minister is awaiting the outcome of a pivotal inquiry into lockdown-flouting parties in Downing Street that took place during a period when government-backed public health restrictions prohibited most social gatherings.

In an interview with the Sunday Times, Nusrat Ghani said that when she was fired as transport minister during a reshuffle in 2020, she was informed that “Muslimness” had been mentioned as a concern at a Downing Street meeting.

“At the post-reshuffle meeting with the whips, I asked what the thinking was behind the decision to fire me…that my ‘Muslim woman minister’ status was making colleagues uncomfortable and that there were concerns ‘that I wasn’t loyal to the party as I didn’t do enough to defend the party against Islamophobia allegations.”

The accusations made by Ghani have been previously echoed by former Tory peer Baroness Sayeeda Warsi, the country’s first female Muslim cabinet minister and a persistent campaigner against Islamophobia. When she learned that Javid had been named chancellor, she stated in a tweet “It’s a shame… that it’s taken four years and a leadership contest to finally drag my colleagues kicking and screaming to address this issue.”

To be an Anti-Muslim bigot is to be rewarded and elevated to a party post but to speak out against it is to be shunned and politically exiled.

There has been criticism from the wider British Muslim community on Ghani’s role as a Conservative MP in normalizing anti-Muslim bigotry through government initiatives such as Prevent. Ghani’s definition of Islamophobia is markedly different from the standard definition, which is as follows: “Intense dislike or fear of Islam, especially as a political force; hostility or prejudice towards Muslims.”

“Thus, if the archetypal radicalizer in the first decade after 9/11 was the almost pantomime figure of Abu Hamza with his eye-patch, hook hands and wild rhetoric; his counterpart in the last ten years was likely to be smartly dressed, soft-spoken and to mouth platitudes about social justice and human rights,” she continued as saying.

Prevent has faced criticism not only from civil organizations but international bodies including the UN.

In a report on anti-Muslim hate and discrimination by UN Special Rapporteur, Ahmed Shaheed, on Freedom of Religion or Belief submitted, it stated the key issues form the Prevent Strategy:

• That the Prevent duty was leaving students fearful of exercising their rights to freedom of expression and belief.
• The Prevent duty risked being counter-productive by driving children to discuss issues related to terrorism, religion, and identity outside the classroom and online, where simplistic narratives are promoted and go unchallenged.

The language used by media outlets and politicians, notably during the “war on terror,” has contributed to the normalization of this bigotry. As with other types of discrimination, it is critical to hear the victims’ voices loudly.

Despite mounting worries from the British Muslim community over escalating Anti-Muslim prejudice, the conservative party has failed to settle on a definition. Islamophobia, as defined by the All-Party Parliamentary Group on British Muslims, is “rooted in racism and is a type of racism that targets expressions of Muslimness or perceived Muslimness.”

The Labour Party, Liberal Democrats, Plaid Cymru, and the Mayor of London have all endorsed this term, but the Conservative Party has rejected it. The Tory government’s refusal to adopt the definition of Islamophobia despite the support of the definition by cross party parliamentarians is a reflection of the party’s stance towards Muslims and Islam.

A YouGov poll conducted on behalf of Hope Not Hate (an non-partisan organization tackling racism and fascism) show Conservative members showing worrying beliefs in Islamophobic myths, don’t want a Muslim to be Prime Minister, and overwhelmingly reject even the very idea that the Conservative Party has a problem with this issue.” 67% believe  “there are areas in Britain that operate under Sharia law,” as opposed to just 18% who oppose this. 39% of members believe that “Islamist terrorists reflect a widespread hostility to Britain amongst the Muslim community”.

Although the Conservatives are in power and have the responsibility of bringing this problem to the forefront, Islamophobia is not only a Conservative issue; the Labour Party is not exempt.

According to a report conducted by the Labour Muslim Network in Nov 2020 on Islamophobia and the Muslim experience, 29% of Muslim members and supporters have directly experienced Islamophobia in the Labour Party, 37% have directly witnessed Islamophobia within the Labour Party and 44 % don’t think the party takes it seriously.

Regardless of how strongly one may disagree with Nusrat Ghani, justice requires that we contextualize this moment within the larger framework of Islamophobia that Muslims suffer. In the end, when we tolerate one person’s persecution, we all lose. While we are not compelled to demonstrate sympathy or solidarity with one person, we must evaluate all angles in the injustice of Anti-Muslim bigotry, Anti- Muslim hatred, Islamophobia (which all mean the same thing).

Changing a word’s spelling, but the intent remains the same, defining the issue is never the problem, genuine change usually is.

Tareq Alaows is one of the initiators of the Seebrücke (1) Initiative and a member of Flüchtlingsrat (2) Berlin. In February 2021, he launched his candidacy for the Green Party to represent Oberhausen in North Rhine-Westphalia. Although there was a public interest in his candidacy, he decided to withdraw due to threat calls that he received against him, and people close to him. Politics Today interviewed Tareq Alaows about his experience as a Syrian refugee in Germany and the political participation and representation of refugees in Germany.

Q. Could you please briefly introduce yourself and tell us about your journey as a Syrian refugee to Germany?

I left Syria in July 2015. After traveling to Lesbos, Greece through Turkey, I took the Balkan route. I took most of the way to Germany from Athens on foot, and I finally arrived in the German city of Dortmund in September 2015. I had studied law back in Syria, and for more than five years now, I work as a jurist, who is engaged in providing legal aid for refugees during their asylum and residency processes in Germany. I am a political activist too and one of the initiators of the political movement called the Seebrücke. I am still a part of the coordination circle and serve as the press secretary.

Q. When and how have you become politically active in Germany?

Well, I haven’t become politically active ever since I arrived in Germany. I furthered my work in the humanitarian field, which I had started much earlier in Syria and continued here in Germany. But the central issue of my work was no longer human rights in Syria, but human rights in Germany. I took the cause for people, who came here as refugees.

I had no other choice than to become politically active. When I arrived here, I saw that our legal rights as refugees were not being properly applied in practice. I was detected in a military center in the middle of nowhere. When I wanted to buy something, I was supposed to walk five kilometers to the nearest supermarket. There were no buses or trains or any other means of transportation. After two months, I was transferred to Bochum. There, I was supposed to live in a basketball hall at a school with sixty other people. Families, men, women, children, all of us, were in one room, and we were not allowed to do anything that we wanted.

I lived in this situation, where we could not even enjoy our basic human rights for six months and I could not stand it anymore. I had to react to this situation and started an action. I organized the people in our accommodation and set a protest camp in front of the City Hall.

Q. Quite naturally, you demanded to live in dignity. How did German authorities react to this? What was your experience with the first protest?

We managed to make our demands heard thanks to our protest in front of the City Hall. Thereafter, we were organized under Refugee Strike Bochum and continued to be active in the negotiations. We observed the implementation process of our demands in regard to the asylum policy in Bochum in the following years. We started to have regular meetings with the City Hall. There, we did only talk about our problems, but also provided solutions. The administration in the city hall was responsible and saw that we, as refugees, were a part of the solution. In the end, we learned a lot from each other.

Q. To protect your basic rights and demands, you have democratically organized and taken a political role at the local level. But what has motivated you to take an active part at the federal level?

During my political activism at the local level, I recognized that everything I said reached the German politicians in my city better than what the German activists or the political parties in the opposition were saying. Because I was talking about my life and the very conditions that I was living in. I think they could not argue against it.

And I see that I am not an exception. I know thousands of refugees from different countries, as well as people from Germany, who are doing a great job here in uplifting the refugee voices and working to maintain the human rights for refugees.

I just have been lucky to have the media attention, which helped shed light on and bring solutions to the issues we -as refugees- encountered. But the question eventually transformed into how could we represent these persons, who have arrived in this society?

I was eventually transformed from being a normal person running for candidacy to a target of racism and hate speech. People who target me are not targeting me as Tareq Alaows but target a person of color with a refugee background, a person who showed the courage to claim his rights to be represented in the German parliament.

I just run for the elections, and this is a democratic right. At the end of the day, it will be German voters’ decision to elect or not to elect me. But the right-wing party viewed it differently. They were afraid of me being elected in a democratic way and they did everything to stop me.

Q. What did exactly happen, and you decided to withdraw your candidacy?

I was receiving hundreds of comments and messages on the internet, that said that they knew where I am living, where I am walking, and where I am eating, and I had to be careful. And I saw that most of the messages were written in the “we” form, and not in the “I” form. It was like groups in the background and not like single persons. There were two people in my team, who were deleting those racist comments and messages on social media and documenting things that are relevant for my safety for the police.

I just run for the elections, and this is a democratic right. It’s the German voters’ decision to elect or not to elect me. But the right-wing party viewed it differently.

Most of the messages were anonymous and we could not tell by whom they were sent, or which persons or groups were doing it, so, there was nothing we could do. For me, it was a very dangerous situation, and nobody could calculate consequences. I had to protect my family and people working with me. I had no guarantee for my safety. So, I had to withdraw my candidacy in the elections. But as a jurist and political activist, I still defend the basic human rights of refugees.

Q. What was the reaction of the Green Party, or of other political parties, to this incident?

Both the Green Party and other democratic parties learned something from this experience. The Green Party, of which I was a candidate, accepted my withdrawal from candidacy and drafted a document in order to avoid a possible future incident as such and to establish a mechanism to counsel and support victims of such racisms. I think every political party in Germany must start debates about racism in politics and work for developing awareness.

Q. Your experience, then, highlights that there are serious obstacles concerning the participation and representation of minorities in political life in Germany. How do you think it could be overcome?

This could be overcome only by empowering those people in politics, who are victims of racism and encouraging them to get involved in democratic processes. Because the only way to fight against racism in politics is to have more people with a refugee or a minority background in politics. We can talk about democracy if every group in our society, including the minorities and the newcomers, are represented. Otherwise, it is nothing but a mock debate. We need to have more democratic environments and dialogue between members of the host society and the newcomers.

We also need to work to create awareness among the youth via programs for young persons, immigrants, or non-immigrants and let them be involved in these political debates. Above all, we need to put it in a context; when we talk about refugees we talk about humans.

Importantly, all these debates and dialogues need to be translated to a legal basis. We need more clear and strict laws against racism and extremism both on online platforms and in real life. Racism is not an opinion, it is a criminal act, and we have to name it and fight against it.

Although I decided to cancel my candidacy for the German federal elections of 2021 and continue my work in the humanitarian field, I am optimistic that political parties in Germany have learned something from that experience.

Almost immediately after the announcement had been made that a new variant of COVID19 – Omicron, as it was later named by the World Health Organization – had been identified, wealthy northern nations rushed to impose travel bans on a number of southern African countries and, later on other African nations as well.

In some very undiplomatic language from African governments, the move was labelled racist, hypocritical, unsupported by science, “travel apartheid” and even “swart gevaar” – particularly because these same northern states did not impose similar bans on each other, despite their infection rates being hugely higher than in southern Africa. The opprobrium was subsequently also extended to countries of the global South that also imposed travel restrictions on southern African states.

It is difficult to believe that the quick actions of the governments imposing the restrictions were not racist; it is even more difficult to believe now it is known that many of these countries already had cases of the Omicron variant before it had been identified in Botswana and South Africa, and seemingly without any spread from southern Africa.

The drama around these travel restrictions began when, on November 23, scientists from Botswana uploaded three Sars-CoV-2 genome sequences to a public database that looked different from the other 96 uploaded that day, which were of the Delta variant. The database had been receiving regular uploading of such sequences since March 2020. On the same day, a South African team uploaded seven genomes that were almost identical. Scientists around the world began discussing the new variant and, within three days, the WHO had named it Omicron.

The teams from the two southern African countries alerted the world because of the need for rapid responses to COVID19 and its various variants, despite the fact that they understood the risks, as indicated by a tweet from a member of the South African genomics team, Tulio de Oliveira. Announcing the variant, he added that the world should support these efforts by South Africa “and not discriminate or isolate it! By protecting and supporting it, we will protect the world!”

Nevertheless, by November 24, dozens of countries imposed travel restrictions not just on South Africa and Botswana where Omicron had been detected, but also on other southern African countries with no confirmed cases: eSwatini, Lesotho, Malawi, Mozambique, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Angola and Zambia were subsequently added on, and, later Nigeria and Egypt.

This did not prevent Omicron being referred by western media as the “South African variant” or “the virus from Africa”. A Spanish publication, Tribuna Albacete, published a cartoon of a boat with the South African flag named Omicron filled with caricatured Africans shaped as viruses, approaching Europe, thus combining its racism, xenophobia and hatred of refugees into one image.

Some of this racism was reminiscent of the outbreak of HIV in Africa. In 2001, the head of USAID opposed funding ARVs for Africans, suggesting we would not be able to maintain a disciplined treatment regime because we did not “know what watches and clocks are”.

Many African leaders – especially in southern Africa – have responded with (in some cases uncharacteristic) anger. South Africa’s president, Cyril Ramaphosa, and foreign minister, Naledi Pandor, were, perhaps, most forthright on the issue. Ramaphosa, during a recent tour of West Africa, called the travel restrictions “harsh”, “unfair” “arbitrary and discriminatory”, “unscientific” and “counter-productive”, and suggested that the leaders of Nigeria, Ghana, Senegal and Cote d’Ivoire agreed with him. He also evoked the colonisation of Africa to make his point.

“[The world] says, ‘No, we know what is good for you, we just want you to do fill-and-finish [of vaccine doses], that’s it,” Ramaphosa said at the opening of the Dakar International Forum on Peace and Security. “We say, ‘We no longer want that. You did that long ago when you colonised us, and when you raped and pillaged our countries’. We say ‘no’ now, we have the capability [to manufacture vaccines] and we want to make full use of it.” Africa, he said, wanted to do business with the West on a respectful basis, but “maybe that is why we were colonized, because we respect too much, and [now] we say, ‘Respect us as well.’”

The South African president said he agreed with UN secretary-general Antonio Guterres that the travel restrictions were “travel apartheid.”

The South African president said he agreed with UN secretary-general Antonio Guterres that the travel restrictions were “travel apartheid”, and drew attention to a term previously used by South Africa’s apartheid government: “Swart Gevaar” – Black danger/threat. “It is an Afrikaans language term used by our former oppressors to scare the white population about the perceived threat of black majority rule, and to keep themselves in power.”

His criticism was not limited to northern states; he accused certain African states of behaving “like our former colonizers”. He was referring to Rwanda, Mauritius, Seychelles and Egypt, which followed the European example and also imposed travel restrictions on southern Africa.

On 4 December, the U.K. added Nigeria to its “red list”, followed by other states. The Nigerian health minister responded with similar language to Ramaphosa, and Nigeria’s aviation minister, Hadi Sirika, announced on 12 December that he planned, in retaliation, to ban flights from Argentina, Britain, Canada and Saudi Arabia.

For Africans in general, and southern Africans in particular, there is no question that the response of northern states to the detection of the Omicron variant is racist, with no concern by, especially Europeans, for the destruction of African economies and livelihoods. Suddenly, overnight, many middle- and upper-class Africans discovered the cold, unwelcoming reception, and lack of concern for African lives, that poorer Africans had discovered for decades in their attempts to migrate to Europe.

Azeem Rafiq is a 30-year-old former professional British-Pakistani cricketer who played for Yorkshire for the majority of his career. He captained England at the youth level before becoming Yorkshire captain in 2012. In a September 2020 interview with ESPN Cricinfo, he claimed that “institutional racism” at Yorkshire County Cricket Club had driven him to suicidal ideation. During his time at the club, Rafiq states he was subjected to constant abuse, including the use of racist language about his Pakistani heritage.

He addressed UK parliamentarians about his requests for Yorkshire County Cricket Club (YCCC) to take disciplinary action after an inquiry revealed he had been exposed to racial harassment and bullying. Rafiq spoke before a parliamentary Digital, Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) hearing on Tuesday 16, 2021, following a tumultuous month that saw many charges of racism levelled against former YCCC players. Senior Yorkshire administrators are also expected to testify. He said: “All I wanted to do was play cricket. Towards the end of my first spell but constantly throughout I knew there was something wrong. I started taking medication for my mental health. It was really tough.”

Rafiq‘s experience

A 57-page witness testimony, published by the DCMS select committee as part of Rafiq’s submission to an employment tribunal, went into excruciating detail about Rafiq’s experiences, which included hearing racist remarks from several other former Yorkshire and England players, including Matthew Hoggard, as well as sustained abuse and bullying from Ballance and former Yorkshire coach and captain Andrew Gale.

In his testimony he stated, “throughout my time at YCCC, I experienced racism, discrimination, and bullying, which I believe was because of my Pakistani ethnic origins. This made me feel unwelcome and that I wasn’t a valued cricketer or member of the club. It undermined my confidence and ultimately my performance, and drove me to depression and suicidal thoughts”.

He also stated that a former Yorkshire player Gary Ballance used the name “Kevin” as a disparaging term to refer to Black and Asian players and he later understood that another England player named his dog Kevin as it was a black dog.

Reactions from the British Asian community

Azeem Rafiq’s statement about the prejudice he faced as a cricket player has sparked outrage within the British Asian community, not only in Yorkshire but across the country. The alarming charges that players of color were referred to as “Kevin” and used terms like the “P-word,” “elephant washers,” and othering them as “you bunch” were widespread and have shined a bright light on the sport’s profound systemic racism.

Azeem’s testimony, as a result, has shown a wide support from ethnic minority communities across the UK on the importance of speaking out against systemic racism. Many have felt that they wouldn’t have been supported and that it would have been swept under the rug, which is why he feels that it is “important that we don’t let this moment go”.

Mpanzu Bamenga was eight years old when in 1994, he fled from the Congo to the Netherlands with his mother and older brother. Today, he is a municipal councilor in the Dutch city of Eindhoven and a passionate advocate for human rights. In 2016, he was elected the “Political Talent of the Year” as a councilor in the city of Eindhoven. In 2018, Bamenga arrived at the airport of his Dutch hometown after having lectured on human rights in Italy. He was selected by the border police for a passport check as according to the officials his appearance matched the risk profile of a “Nigerian money smuggler.” Latife Özdemir of Politics Today interviewed Bamenga – you can read the full interview here.

Q. What is racial profiling, and should people worry about it?

Racial profiling is a forbidden form of discrimination by the government. Yes, it is something people should worry about because racial profiling comes from the idea that someone can be judged based on their skin color, ethnicity, or nationality instead of this person’s character. It is also against the fundamental right of being treated equally. It is against human rights. It threatens what we stand for and who we are as human beings.

Q. Not long ago, we were discussing racial profiling in the Unites States, but nowadays it seems that the issue also started to appear in the Netherlands as for example in the cases of Mitch Henriquez and the 17-year-old Rishi Chandrikasing, who was fatally shot by the police in 2012. Is racial profiling of Black people and citizens with an immigrant background becoming widespread in the Netherlands?

I think that racial profiling has always been there. To fight against something, you should first make it visible. It has always been hidden. It’s been brought to light – this is a step to fight against racial profiling. The first anti-discrimination bureaus in the Netherlands were opened 30 years ago. They basically started after situations of racism. It is widespread, not only in practice but also in policy. It is institutionalized in our society and to fight against it, we should address it. It is also part of implicit biases, and we act upon it, which is wrong because it can be contrary to one’s beliefs and values. But it is even worse if you act upon it and you are an official of the government.

Q. Do you think that the situation regarding racial profiling increased after events such as 9/11 for example?

I think that these kinds of events are used as a justification. For instance, now we have people coming from several countries, Syria, Afghanistan, etc. And now we are using it as a justification to say “We have to stop illegal migration, so how can we stop it if we are not able to control passports?” Well, ethnic profiling doesn’t mean that the border police can’t control passports – they can. But the question is “How do they do this?” Do they look at someone’s skin color and assume that this person must be from Syria, Afghanistan, or Africa? Or thinking that someone must be a money smuggler, a criminal, or a terrorist based on someone’s color? This is forbidden and against human rights.

Q. You experienced a racial profiling situation three years ago, how did you feel at the time?

It is very humiliating, and it also stigmatizes because it fits within the idea that the person who is stopped is a non-white person, so there must be, or there could be, something wrong. – It fits into stigmatization, which has consequences in society. For instance, when a young person wants to apply for an internship and the employee just looks at the name (Mohammed) and that person doesn’t even get the opportunity to present themselves or to get an internship at an organization.

This is a very big issue in the Netherlands. We have a lot of labor market and housing discrimination.

This is a very big issue in the Netherlands. We have a lot of labor market and housing discrimination. There are a lot of things going on here when it comes to the idea that when someone comes from a different country, this must be “wrong.” People are not judged by their character but by certain characteristics which you can’t change. It also shouldn’t matter what your religion or your skin color is. What they do is dehumanizing and humiliating if you are the victim.

Q. What are the legal mechanisms to face racial profiling?

When certain individuals have racially profiled a person, this person can file a complaint. This is a simple thing to do, one can go to court. After the complaint, one can go to the Ombudsman. The Ombudsman must look into the situation. One can go to the police or the anti-discrimination bureau as well.

Q. What are your thoughts regarding the decision of the court in your case?

The decision was not what we expected. Even though we know racial profiling is instituted, it is still a shock to hear the judge basically mentioning that it is all fine for the border police to stop someone also based on his or her skin color. It is pretty shocking that the law justifies this.  Still, our legal system gives us the possibility to go to a higher court. Especially in this case, when we talk about a fundamental issue, it is crucial and necessary to go to a higher court.

We started a petition which says “My color doesn’t say anything about my Dutch citizenship.”

Q. The decision at the higher court will be in nine months. What are you going to do until then? Are you planning to raise more awareness or to carry out any other activities?

Yes, we started a petition which says “My color doesn’t say anything about my Dutch citizenship.” We hope that we will get support and as many people as possible will sign it. I am sure that we already achieved more awareness, and that more and more people will understand what it is about and why racial profiling should be forbidden in the Netherlands. I hope the court will decide that ethnicity can never be a part of profiling,when there is no concrete suspect.

Q. As the municipal councilor in Eindhoven, what do you think about the house of representatives’ stance when it comes to racial profiling? Some argue that it’s passive. Do you agree?

At this moment, the judgement is still in the courts’ hands so the parliament must be careful about how to intervene. Therefore, I understand that some members of the parliament are hesitant to act at this point. But at the same time, a legal procedure can take up to six years, while the government is the executive body and parliament the legislative body, they can change this discriminatory situation tomorrow if they want. They don’t need a court decision for that.

Q. Do you think that the profiling and surveillance of people will become a bigger issue in Western democracies?

As long as we don’t fight racial profiling, it could be. It is simply a stupid idea to stop someone according to their looks or ethnicity. I believe that more awareness seems to be important, and especially having a mixed environment in education. We should do more in the field of education.

Q. You said during a speech three years ago that you still believe in a world which is just, inclusive, and where everyone is treated equally. Is the gap between the current situation and the ideal widening? If yes, is there still hope to achieve the world you talk about?

Of course, I believe in it with all my heart. I’m very positive and I believe that we are making important steps, and that we are in a final moment to change the world for the better. I think it is important to mention the words of Martin Luther King, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” This means that even though you are in a good situation you should think and care about other events happening in the world.

Why is it that white Australians still refuse to acknowledge the past and can’t talk about racism in the present? I thought. Oh, this denial of white privilege is hegemonic. Yes, the invisibilization of white privilege is that. I recall the white Australian founding fathers designed and wrote a political entity and constitution that excluded women, people of color, and First Nations to render a white patriarchal possession.

I remember the colonists designed the police force and prisons during British colonial and then (after Federation 1901) Australia’s frontier wars. I think to myself, disavowed still, when will we discontinue incarcerating First Nations out of the way of the white nation? Are not most people in jail there for poverty-related issues? Shouldn’t they be alleviated of poverty or given housing instead of locked up? My stomach burns as I envision abolition, a world without prisons.

My indeminably helpful cousin who sent me the photograph of our white great grandfather did so while assisting his mother, Elizabeth, my paternal aunt, pack up her home of thirty years to move into a nursing home.  Melbourne and surrounding areas, as far out as my country cottage rented in West Gippsland, was ninety days into a one-hundred-and-twelve-day strict lockdown at the time. We are back in lockdown again as I write (June 2021).

I think of my aunt’s brother, John Koerner, my deceased father, and I turn my attention back to the photo of their grandfather, John Heithersay, leading the gold prospecting expedition in Coolgardie in 1893. The image transports my senses to the land and skies from my childhood in Tennant Creek, Alice Springs, and Katherine, camping with my family and, when I was old enough, bushwalking with my father.

The four Indigenous men sitting on the ground at the front of the photograph capture my attention, sidelining happy childhood memories, safe with my father experiencing the bush’s magic he deeply loved.  We were camping on stolen ground, under land rights claims in the 1970s and 1980s.

All the Indigenous men look at the camera. Their physique reminds me of my now deceased father, John Koerner (1930–2005), grandson of John Heithersay. Like the two middle-aged Indigenous men in the front row, my father was very fit in his middle age. Unlike these men, he ran marathons, kayaked, played tennis, hiked right up until his death. Of course, my father was a free man and a white Australian, but I recognized the quality of that lean, fit physique familiar to me. Dam, I miss him, I thought. I recall our last hike together on the Milford track, Aotearoa, where he died.

Did my father know about his grandfather’s prospecting expedition to Coolgardie? During the 1970s and 1980s, Dad was a public-school teacher who advocated for Indigenous children to attend and complete school. I remember he visited some of the small Aboriginal communities around Katherine, N.T., to connect with Elders and parents. Dad returned, feeling hopeful that as Principal of Katherine State High (KSH), my school, Dad, could do more.

The rights for whites aggressively desired to keep the school for their white children and keep out the Blacks.

In the process, he accrued many enemies in the N.T.; those who were quite content with Indigenous non-attendance and low graduation rates would have much preferred Dad to have let sleeping dogs lie. The rights for whites aggressively desired to keep the school for their white children and keep out the Blacks. They campaigned hard and secured government support against the Jaowyn land claim encompassing Nitmuluk Gorge and rivers. I relax as I remember the stunning Nitmuluk where Dad taught me how to swim and canoe, as families have done since the beginning of time.

If his actions mean so many people died as a direct result? We find people guilty of manslaughter if they accidentally run over someone. The land theft is intentional. The environmental degradation is intentional and was never remedied. And who sold you the mining licence? That would be the British before Federation 1901 and Australian Governments after 1901. There was no treaty. They had no legal grounds to seize land and sell mining licences or land leases, I logicize.

I knew that John Heithersay had gone on to prosper from his gold mining activities. My great-grandfather had twelve children, including my grandmother, Elsie May. My grandmother told her daughter, Aunty Elizabeth, that when she (Elsie May) was a small girl, she used to wrap up gold nuggets as toy babies and push them around the house in her doll’s pram.

With that gold, John Heithersay bought a family home in Adelaide’s elite areas, sent his children to the best public schools through scholarships, and put his sons (not daughters) through university via scholarships. They became renowned for their academic abilities in engineering. John Heithersay mined gold in South Australia until the Great War in 1914, where, sadly, four of his sons died.

I look at the second photo sent of John Heithersay with his four sons in 1914. I think of my grandmother (Elsie-May) who grieved her four brothers’ deaths at war. My great grandfather never returned to mining. White patriarchy kept his daughters and granddaughters from completing their education. The wealth flows to the patriarchal line designed to keep white women dependent on white men to benefit from white privilege. First Nation women, however, form matriarchal societies the sophisticated design ensure no social hierarchies, political autonomy and no poverty. Never achieved under patriarchy.

In the last week of October 2020, Victoria emerged from its 112-day lockdown response to the COVID-19 pandemic. While Victoria celebrated coming out of lockdown, I hear on The Saturday’s 7 am podcast (29/10/2020) that the Andrews Government organised the forced removal and evacuation, including arrests of Djab Wurrung people in Victoria. Djab Wurrung had held a tent embassy site in protest for several years against the Victorian Government designated removal of ancient sacred ancestor trees to make way for a highway.

1200 Australian academics sign a petition to the Victorian State Government to stop this unjustifiable travesty with more ancient trees in danger. During a climate crisis, it is nonsensical. Indeed every sacred site destroyed is further proof that the Uluru Statement from the Heart needs to be the foundational document of a new Australia. To survive the climate catastrophe, First Nations must be in the centre of everything we do. They managed this place as the first human civilizations more than 100,000 years ago, I contemplate.

I watch people march under Black Lives Matter (BLM) around the globe. Trepidation arises in my stomach from my concern for the people’s safety from COVID-19 and associated police powers, each equally unwanted during a protest. An ironic smile slightly touches my lips, about extended police powers under the guise of ‘health’ cast against those who advocate an end to racialized policing.

The ‘ping’ sound of a new email draws my attention. I see it is from my cousin, titled ‘old family photos.’ My cousin saved the electronic file as: ‘Heithersay Prospecting, 1893, Coolgardie’. Curious, I open the photo that takes me to a significant moment. My white great grandfather; Afghan cameleers, and Aboriginal trackers, each embody an impressive end-of-nineteenth-century poise.

It strikes me that this is one of those uncanny timeless moments etched in history that play out before my very eyes in the present.  A moment where personal family stories – represented in the photograph I open – are writ large across national and global political landscapes.

I contemplate the way my personal family history entangles with race relations enacted past and present. The family photo encapsulates the essence of why the BLM movement came to be and its current relevance both globally, to Australia, and for me, a white Australian citizen. I think about the centuries of persecution against Black people and how the privileges attributed to white people are yet to reconcile in many countries, including Australia.

A matrix of time and place yawns wide before my very eyes.

In this suspended matrix moment, photographs of the activists who campaigned against the nine-minute choke-hold of George Floyd, an unarmed African American man who called out ‘I cannot breathe’ until he asphyxiated, murdered by Derek Chauvin police officer flood traditional and social media celebrating the first guilty verdict of a police officer. In Australia, 475 First Nations peoples have died in custody since a Royal Commission to Aboriginal Deaths in Custody 30 years ago. The Government continues to ignore the recommendations.

The pictures my cousin has sent me vexed me in a way I’ve never experienced. I feel gut-wrenching sadness and compassion for what I see. Who are these people? Whose country are they on? I start to notice the details before my eyes and feel my breathing return with the usual passing of time. The caption says ‘The Annisfield Prospecting CPY LTD’ to the left and toward the right-hand bottom is ‘Coolgardie.’ On the back of the photo is ‘1893’.  My cousin notes that one of the images is on an expedition party led by the Heithersays. John Heithersay is my great grandfather.

The image taken in Coolgardie has the soft browns of its time, 1893. The quality of this old photograph that had lasted 200 years with little fading, although there is some damage from wear and tear, draws me. The image is still clear enough to view the people, to see the red shades of fine powder-granulated dirt upon which people and animals stand and sit. Hand-sized rocks are scattered here and there to the horizon.

Two large white-trunked trees stretch a few ghostly gangly arms up and across beyond the frame. Smaller saplings as far as the eye can see emerge from the land as if a hand has cast their seeds and is gently caring for them under the expansive, bright sky. In the timeless pause, I feel the dirt granules underfoot, smell the trees’ slightly sharp eucalypt scent, and hear the soft whispering of the leaves.

The scene reminds me of Gammage’s book The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines Made Australia how the oldest continuing culture developed carefully pan-continental environmental and agricultural management that sustained all natural resources. Brown marks from sticky tape smudge the sky of the photo. This picture represents an era that catastrophically disrupted this ancient care of the country.

Four First Nations men sit cross-legged at the feet of their master, my great grandfather John Heithersay. My breath stifles. I look in turn at each man. The thought arises: here it is. I wondered if my family was ever directly involved like this. Simultaneously I am aware of curiosity: who are you? From where do you come? … My grandfather had slaves! Were your family harmed or killed? What happened to your country?

I look at my great grandfather with misgiving. What have you done? 

I look closely at each person’s clothing in the photo as if doing a virtual pat-down security check for weapons. I expel a deep sigh of relief; there are none. No tell-tale bulge in clothing. Nor is there a ‘saddle gun’ visible on the camels. If they were the hunter/killer type, wouldn’t they proudly brandish their weapons? I look again at the cameleers. Is this a package deal of camels, cameleers, and Indigenous trackers to service what became the Kalgoorlie gold-vein craze? 

I remember going to school with Afganni Descendents in N.T. Their families had been Australian for many generations like mine. Perhaps the Aboriginal men astutely evaded death through their arrangement with the cameleers. Maybe they are family through marriage. After all, the camels, cameleers, and Aboriginal trackers must have worked together before my great grandfather procured their service.  

Now, as I look at the Indigenous men in the photograph, I again have the thought: Who are you? I have to find out. Mmm, to find out about these Indigenous men in the photo, I first have to know where the hell is Coolgardie?

Online I find the Wangka Goldfields Aboriginal Language Centre Aboriginal Corporation (GALCAC) based in Kalgoorlie, Western Australia (WA). Sue Hanson, a Senior Linguist, promptly emails me back. The photo is of immense importance to the Centre. Sue tells me that three main activities decimated the Coolgardie region’s Indigenous people: the mining industry, the railway installation between Perth and Kalgoorlie, and the pipeline from Mundaring to Kalgoorlie.

Sue writes that by 1910 only twenty to thirty people had survived. The descendants of those survivors are currently trying to prove their relationship to the land through Native Title. She is sure the descendants will be delighted to see this photo as they have no images that date back to the 1890s.

I wish I could send The Uluru Statement from the Heart, written by First Nations to the Australian Government and people, through the matrix of time to my great grandfather. I think about how the story of my great grandfather, the Afghan cameleers, and the four Indigenous men on Wangka Country is just one of the thousands of moments. It could have been different in 1893 if there had been Voice and Treaty with First Nations People. Instead, that era brought genocide.

We need people’s movements such as BLM to march and demonstrate on the stolen ground never ceded that First Nations Sovereignty and Black Lives Matter. Daily, during a global Climate Crisis, governments and big business destroy sacred sites for fossil fuels and roads, right across Australia such as the Stingray Sisters in Maningrida, N.T., Wangan and Jagalingou in Queensland by Adani, Jukkan Gorge Caves, in Western Australia by Rio Tinto, and the Djab Wurrung trees by Victoria State Government because we don’t have a document such as the Uluru Statement from the Heart as our nation’s spiritual constitution. This document is our shared cultural and spiritual understanding for the benefit of all Australians.

The most recent major and public act of racism Syrian refugees faced in Lebanon, dates to December 27, 2020, when hundreds of them—75 families according to local news—had to flee for their lives from a makeshift camp in the Miniyeh region near the northern coastal city of Tripoli after their tents were set alight. The incident came against the backdrop of a fight between camp residents and members of a local Lebanese family.

In November 2020, a Syrian refugee allegedly killed a Lebanese resident in Bcharre, a town in the North Governorate of Lebanon. Soon after, a group of Lebanese residents went on a witch-hunt, demanded the eviction of Syrians from the area—even the ones who lived and worked there prior to the Syrian refugee influx—and set fire to their homes in the town.

While the list goes on, two examples in two consecutive months and from two Lebanese regions with different sectarian undertones, are evidence to extrapolate about the multi-layered acts of racism Syrian refugees face in Lebanon.

Nevertheless, slapping the word racism and Lebanon on any search engine shows us that racism in the country is not a new phenomenon simply synonymous with the influx of Syrian refugees following the violent crackdown by the Syrian regime on the 2011 revolution. Racism in Lebanon is one form of discrimination that is rampant and mainstream, while other forms extend to classist discrimination, sectarian, geographic, and so on. However, racism specifically against Syrians could be traced back to the country’s “founding moment.”

While Lebanese racism is not strictly directed towards Syrian refugees, the article aims to tackle discrimination against Syrian refugees in particular. Nevertheless, Syrian and Palestinian refugees paid the brunt for the “founding narrative” and fragility of the Lebanese state that was envisioned during the process of its insurrection following the first World War.

Modern-day Lebanon was initially formed between 1918 and 1926 from the debris of “Ottoman Syria” at a time when the victors of the World War, Britain and France, were “redrawing” the map of the modern Middle East and divvying the spoils among them.

Primarily, it was the French who put the territory of Lebanon together and organized it as a state, laying the foundation for the autonomous “Mutasarrifiyya” of Mount Lebanon within the framework of “Ottoman Syria” in 1861.

In November 2020, a Syrian refugee allegedly killed a Lebanese resident in Bcharre, a town in the North Governorate of Lebanon. Soon after, a group of Lebanese residents went on a witch-hunt.

While the French wanted the country to remain a compact territory with a Christian-dominated majority in an ocean of Arab Muslims, Lebanese Christians and more specifically the Maronite-majority amongst them, saw an opportunity to set up the “national homeland” they had dreamed of with expanded territory, autonomy and independence, and pressed the French while making the best use of favorable circumstances at the time until they achieved their goal.

While the second claims that “[B]etween 1918 and 1920 the Christian demand for an independent state in Lebanon appeared to the Muslims of Syria as a more immediate and serious threat than the corresponding Zionist demand in Palestine.”

Prominent Lebanese historian, the late Kamal Salibi, wisely attributed that to the fact that, “the Muslims of Syria in 1920 identified Zionism as an external danger, but they diagnosed the call for Christian Lebanese separatism, in collusion with Western power, as treason and subversion from within. Their diagnosis of the Christian position may have been uncharitable, but so was the dominant Christian Lebanese attitude towards the aspirations of the Muslims of Syria at the time.”

As such, while Maronites had a choice between a smaller Lebanon or a confederation of autonomous Syrian cantons—sectarian ones, they opted for a “Greater Lebanon,” hoping to create and mold a larger country on the Mediterranean, in their own image.

The question of “who is Lebanese” emerged and the answer to it was: the “non-Syrian,” and the answer to “who is Syrian” question became: the “non-Lebanese.”

With that, the question of “who is Lebanese” emerged and the answer to it was: the “non-Syrian,” and the answer to “who is Syrian” question became: the “non-Lebanese,” Lebanese writer Wissam Saade concludes, sowing the seeds for Lebanese racism towards Syrians, in specific, and towards any component that challenged the Christian-dominated “concept of Lebanon,” in general.

The “othering” process, which preexisted even before Lebanon’s insurrection, was institutionalized at that moment. It drags on till today despite the different context.

Following the moment of creation, the Maronite practice in ruling the country further exacerbated tension between Muslims and Christians and eventually led to the “sectarianizing” of the social setting it on a track of collision. According to Salibi, “[W]hat the Muslims had opposed from 1920 until 1975 was not necessarily the concept of Greater Lebanon.

Rather, it was the Christian interpretation of this Greater Lebanon, as a country where the Christians were the Lebanese in a special way… By persisting in giving Lebanon a Christian interpretation, heedless of the changes that were taking place among their Muslim compatriots… contributed to reawakening the demon of tribal contradiction among the other Lebanese communities.”

Seven decades passed, between 1920 and 1975, without Lebanese Christians paying much attention to the changes that were taking place, first among their Lebanese Muslim compatriots, and then the larger region. Following the disastrous Arab-Israeli war of 1967, dubbed an-Naksah, the setback, and the incidents of Black September of 1970 in Jordan, the Muslim-dominated Palestinian refugee influx to Lebanon became a source of paranoia to the Christian leadership.

For them, the Palestinian refugeehood was perceived to be a factor of demographic change, hence, an outright contestation of the fragile “concept of Lebanon” referred to above. The paranoia and fear were ultimately and directly translated into racism leading down the slippery slope of confrontation which resulted in a 15-year civil war.

The Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990) created a new set of grievances and animosities, among the different Lebanese constituencies and between Lebanese and Syrians as well. The Syrian army’s direct military intervention in the Lebanese war, which in the long run resulted in tilting the balance towards the Muslims against the Christians, dealt again a huge blow to the “concept of Lebanon” as per the Maronites. The war was concluded in 1990 with the signing of the Ta’if Agreement, which reshuffled the system, diffused power from the hands of the Maronites, made it more inclusionary, and gave Syria a “guardianship” status over Lebanon.

The Syrian regime’s guardianship lasted for 15 years (until 2005) with authoritarian practices that only sought to humiliate Lebanese in general and specifically Maronites, who saw their two main leaders either imprisoned or exiled. Lebanese racism mutated in that case and became coupled with feelings of oppression, an exercise the Syrian regime’s troops and lieutenants exercised every day to remind the Lebanese who ruled their country.

On the flip side, all this was internalized by Lebanese and projected later on even towards regular Syrian citizens that constituted an essential labor force in the country. Such blanket approach racism dismissed nuances, as in separating between the oppressor—the Syrian authoritarian regime—and the oppressed (both Syrians and Lebanese citizens).

The breakout of the Syrian revolution in 2011 and the regime’s conscious decision to violently suppress it, resulted again in a Muslim Sunni-dominated Syrian refugee influx to Lebanon. The country received around 1.5 million Syrian refugees as per the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, meaning around 36% of its population. Despite the different current-day political dynamics, the most dominant Christian-Maronite political party, at the time, the Free Patriotic Movement (FPM) found it befitting to capitalize on previously mentioned historical grievances and paranoia, to solidify its grip on the Christian constituency in the country and advance its own political goals.

The story of South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle is glorious, even romantic, that of its post-apartheid era, beginning with the country’s first democratic elections in April 1994, is less so. Less glorious, less romantic, more complex, more tragic.

The democratically-elected government, led by the African National Congress, inherited, in 1994, a state that had been designed to serve only one ‘racial’ group. State systems and institutions had been oriented in a well-thought-out system of racial capitalism that ensured that wealth and poverty were racialized. State policies contributed both to creating and protecting White wealth and to ensuring Black impoverishment.

Thus, the challenges facing a new government that hoped to ensure equal access to state resources by all citizens, including the almost-90 per cent politically and economically disenfranchised, were enormous, especially because it needed to be done in the context of a structural economic crisis caused partly by the global sanctions campaign against apartheid.

With this backdrop, many of South Africa’s post-apartheid achievements have been quite remarkable.

On a constitutional and legislative level, obviously-racist laws were repealed, and racism removed from most other laws. South Africa is often lauded for having one of the “most progressive constitutions” in the world, but the open, transparent and democratic process that led to its creation was also impressive.

And even though the ANC government rejected its social-democratic Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP) in 1996 in favor of a more neoliberal approach, there are important achievements on the socio-economic front too. Millions of houses have been built for the poorest South Africans; from around one-third of the population having access to clean water in 1990, now more than 90 per cent does; and sanitation and electricity access have been extended to millions of additional households.

The social welfare net that already existed was improved, with the state increasing the amounts paid to citizens in pensions and social grants, and creating parity between the different ‘race’ groups. State-provided education and healthcare was made free, and facilities were desegregated. Much emphasis was placed on gender equality, with attempts to give effect to these provisions in the constitution, provide services to women (including those concerning gender-based violence), and so forth.

These worthy achievements do not, however, tell the full story of post-apartheid South Africa. South Africa’s negotiated settlement achieved a great deal in terms of the political liberation of the masses of its people, but, in many ways, its poor – mainly Black – citizens languish in ongoing economic subjugation. Even the socio-economic achievements mentioned above must be qualified.

A quarter of a century after South Africa’s first democratic elections, 10 per cent of the population owns 90 per cent of the country’s wealth, and the vast majority of that wealthy minority is Whites; by some estimates, 85 per cent of the country’s wealth remains in White hands.

This includes the serious (and very emotive) issue of land ownership/control. At the beginning of 1994, over 80 per cent of the land was in the hands of whites, much of this in massive white-owned farms. Land reform programs promised much, but, 26 years later, only 10 per cent of the total land has been redistributed from white to black ownership.

Land reform programs promised much, but, 26 years later, only 10% of the total land has been redistributed from white to black ownership.

The land reform program was part of a larger attempt at the redistribution of wealth; another was BEE (Black economic empowerment, later BBBEE – broad-based Black economic empowerment). In reality, BEE was geared not towards eliminating the impoverishment of Black people, but in transitioning some Black people into the capitalist class. To some extent, it succeeded; a small group of Black faces have joined the economic elite.

This has not economically empowered Black people broadly; it has helped increase inequality (making South Africa one of the most unequal societies in the world). One of its results is that the inequality gap within the African part of the population hugely increased.

Having dumped the RDP in 1996, the ANC government adopted elements of neoliberal economic policy, with the assistance of World Bank and IMF advisers. I say ‘elements’ because the state also maintained elements of welfarism, with a great deal of resources being directed towards pensions, child grants and so forth. These welfarist elements are extremely necessary in a country with an unemployment rate of over 40 per cent, but they are also useful as bribes to ensure repeated reelection of the ruling party.

That the welfare net is not intended or designed for fundamental transformation is highlighted by the poor delivery of various kinds of services – even in the ‘achievements’ mentioned above, and in persistent inequalities in service delivery. Inequalities, e.g., in the education and health sectors are stark, with richer citizens using private schools and health services while the rest suffer with inferior services.

While many rich children attend fancy schools that resemble those in rich European countries, children in some rural areas are still taught under trees; while sick rich people get private healthcare, patients in overcrowded public hospitals often sleep on floors.

The discriminatory service delivery also extends to areas such as policing, with police brutality a serious problem. During the 2020 Covid-19 lockdown, at least eight South Africans – all Black and all poor – were killed by police. And despite excellent legislation relating to GBV, it remains a huge problem, and police handling of GBV cases leaves much to be desired. All these services, thus, have levels of privilege, with White men at the top and African women at the bottom.

Despite the increase in clean water access across South Africa, this too is discriminatory and affected by neoliberal notions of commodification. Among the poorest South Africans, 80 per cent have no running water, and a higher proportion have no toilets.

A tragic illustration of the problem is the case of Empangeni on the country’s east coast. In August 2000, the area experienced a cholera outbreak directly related to the provision of clean water. Within a year, over 100,000 people across the country had been affected, and more than 200 had died. The epidemic began in the squatter settlement of Madlebe, where residents began to be charged for water that, under apartheid, had been provided gratis. Unable to afford the costs, they resorted to unpurified sources, resulting in the outbreak.

The number of emails commencing with or entailing the phrase “we live in unprecedented times” or a variation of this has surely mounted to unsustainable levels since the onset of COVID-19 as a global crisis. But it is no exaggeration to say that history has reached a point of imminence, a point where the viral pandemic, the failure of neoliberal democracies, and the smartphone-to-internet-to-media-exposure of police brutality has necessitated a climax that has been building for some centuries. The murder of George Floyd links at the last bolts of a long chain of events that is fastened to the colonial empire.

The problem is now clearly systemic, has always been systemic, but its institutional hold is being foregrounded. The new politics of antiracism is not, in fact, new. In Ibram X Kendi’s 2019 book How To be an Antiracist, an Amazon top-seller on the subject of race, Kendi defines that “‘Racist policy’ says exactly what the problem is and where the problem is. ‘Institutional racism’ and ‘structural racism’ and ‘systemic racism’ are redundant. Racism itself is institutional, structural, and systemic.” The nature of the power-structures that uphold racist policy is not the subject here, but that this policy is as much a problem of cultural weight as political.

Even so, the move for equity in representation is valuable. The movements and decisions of galleries, publishers, and other cultural institutions are in this way no less acts of policy than those of the state. What the galleries, the publishers, the film studios police, is not the rights of individuals in relation to the law, but the way individuals think about their rights. When a gallery or civil building is stocked with neoclassical evocations of Columbus and other colonial figures, with the works of white-American and white-European artists, the presence of “Black artists” and “artists of color” is very often represented in a skewed pop-urban way. And the political dialectic here – of featured guest, of novelty, of difference – has the effect of distancing. If this does not fade when the patron leaves the gallery, when the book is put down, when it continues to govern: it is a cultural policy.

In 2019, Kara Walker’s Fons Americanus was installed in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern. The 43-foot tall cement composite sculpture became one of the most visited installations in the gallery’s 20-year history. Nothing in its curatorship suggested novelty: it was left unadorned by signage in the central space of the hall, an immense monument for the memory of trans-Atlantic slavery, against the legacy of the empires it built. Its presence was calm, quiet, reflective, its message clear. This seems an example of a cultural policy that has moved beyond its blurry definitions, a resolute artistic display without pretense. The artwork was demolished this year.

Black-authored books have surged in sales. Reni Eddo-Lodge’s Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race is the first Black-British-authored book to ever top the U.K. bestseller list. But it remains consistently difficult, even in literary circles, to find individuals with an awareness of African authors from a region with such a rich literary output as Nigeria, beyond Chinua Achebe and more recently Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. When British and American publishing houses remain predominantly white, it does not take a wide stretch of the imagination to feel a sting of situational profiteering.

As recently as 2018, controversial author Jordan B Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life also topped bestseller lists. The allegedly reluctant Canadian star-theorist is known for his refutation of postmodern gender politics, and his denial of the concepts of patriarchy, Islamophobia, and white privilege – all points he aims to disprove through philosophical logic. Unsurprisingly, he has often been canonized by the alt-right, a complex, clustered movement defined by narcissism and violent acts of white supremacy.

The United States was shaken by the death of black American George Floyd, who was pinned to the ground as police officer, Derek Chauvin, knelt on his neck for nearly nine minutes on May 25th and three other officers looked on. His last words, “I can’t breathe”, have become a motto for the millions who took to the streets to protest the violence against black people and the Trump administration’s handling of the issue. Floyd’s death sparked mass demonstrations in cities across the US, demanding an end to racial injustice and police brutality. Yet the peaceful demonstrations partly turned into violent protests and many people started to defy violence and looting. The murder was further politicized when President Trump declared the protestors as “anarchists” and “radical left”. The United States has now been soul-searching on how to end racial inequalities and securing law and order.

“I can’t breathe” protests

After thousands flooded the streets of Minneapolis to protest the killing of Floyd, four officers involved in his death were fired. Protests spread to major cities across the country, including New York City, Washington DC, Los Angeles, Memphis, Denver, and others in a couple of days.

Lafayette Park across from the White House became the center of the “I can’t breathe” protests, and soon turned into an anti-Trump base. President Trump’s reaction was to call the protesters “thugs” and take to Twitter saying: “When the looting starts, the shooting starts.” The tweet caused an outrage and was labeled as “glorifying violence” by the American public.

National Guard soldiers were deployed in some states; nighttime curfews were imposed and Donald Trump vowed to suppress the “thugs”. As nationwide protests continued, Trump said the administration would list far-left, anti-fascist movement “Antifa” as a terror group. Trump doubled efforts to stem the protestors and threatened to deploy the military if states and cities failed to quell violence during protests. Trump’s controversial visit to St. John’s Episcopal Church in Washington, DC marked a turning point as the pundits blamed Trump for mixing religion with politics.

The United States has now seriously divided into two main camps: Trump-lovers and Trump-haters. It is unfortunate that there is no middle-way between these two polar opposites. It’s becoming increasingly common to view everything that happens in the U.S. under these two main perspectives. Floyd’s tragic death could have led to a broader consensus going beyond this bipolar politics, yet it failed. Floyd is dead because American history is full of racial inequalities against African Americans from the very first day of Mayflower’s arrival to the New World. This story didn’t change much when African Americans got their “legal freedom” in 1865. American history books are full of lynching stories awful enough to fill one’s heart with horror. The idea is simple – the main reason why police brutality against black people hasn’t been averted in the U.S. is that it’s a systemic and institutional problem.

Data from 2019 of all police killings in the U.S. compiled by Mapping Police Violence shows that black Americans are nearly three times more likely to die at the hands of the police than white Americans. Other statistics have shown that black Americans are nearly one-and-a-half times more likely to be unarmed before their death. In 2019 alone, black people were 24% of those killed despite only being 13% of the population.

Another dimension of systemic racism is the lack of accountability of police officers whose actions have led to the death of a black person. “Mapping Police Violence” also tracked what had been happening in the aftermath of any white police officer killing an African American citizen. According to data, they reveal more than 200,000 internal investigations that were opened against approximately 85,000 police officers over the last 10 years. Yet, most of them were internally closed without any submission to the jurisdiction. All these speedy internal investigations seem to have set a precedent for officers dealing with black people.

There is one last thing about why a white police officer could kill Floyd so easily: the lack of education. This subject is sometimes not given due attention, yet it’s as important as other items on racial inequality in the U.S. A high school diploma or equivalent is enough to be considered qualified to get admission into police academies where the training lasts between 13-19 weeks. This implies that many American police officers do not have adequate education on the issue of racial profiling. As a result, systemic racism in the U.S. carries on with impunity as a lack of education and racial bias continues the problem of police brutality against African Americans in different parts of the country.

Any gain from the nationwide protests?

As the nationwide protests spread the flame of Black Lives Matter through Washington D.C., Democrats stepped up to change some laws to honor Floyd’s memory. The House Democrats have unveiled some resolutions targeting police misconduct and racial bias; there is no concrete outcome yet. On the other hand, President Trump signed an executive order last week in an effort to bring significant reform to law enforcement. Trump’s order will ban police from using chokeholds “except if an officer’s life is at risk,” as part of a wider effort to incentivize police departments to adopt nationwide standards. Those that choose to be certified by independent credentialing bodies will be eligible to receive Department of Justice grants under his order.