Identity, very real yet permanently theorised upon; the reflection in the mirror or thoughts in the head, the heated arguments, the terminology, and beyond – who is what and who says, variance in usage and acceptability over time and from nation to nation; all this and more is almost impossible to escape these days, and just when one is convinced to be almost on top of it, or given up in despair, there it is again demanding to be considered again. For me, at least, that state arises again this time in reading an opinion article in The New York Times by Kwame Anthony Appiah; throwing a spanner in the works again.
Springing from an ongoing debate, some of it fair, and some provocative purely for the sake of provocation (this ranging from the mischievous to the malevolent) about the correct nomenclature when in comes to US Vice-Presidential candidate, Kamala Harris, born in California to an Indian mother and a Jamaican father, Appiah’s thoughtful piece returns half-way home (for him) to the United Kingdom, where ethnicity has been historically approached differently and the matter much more black and white (my pun is intended), to construe his argument.
Appiah describes the “political Blackness” ideology, rooted in the early nineteen seventies and finding legitimacy at the latest in the eighties, and in the wake of recommendations from the Commission for Racial Equality; whereby Asians were officially categorised as Black. (In terms of Britain, important is that here we are talking predominately about South Asians – i.e. Indians, Pakistanis, etc. dispersed in the wake of Partition and the aftermath – whereas in America one would understand “Asian” to refer to those of East Asian, e.g. Chinese, Japanese, Korean or Southeast Asian, for instance, Vietnamese, descent.) While historically and unofficially, Black people were always seen to be anyone who was not absolutely white, that categorisation was then embraced by many in minority communities that were not sub-Saharan or from the African diaspora.
Under the “umbrella” of their Blackness, it is easy enough to understand that its proponents envisaged power, not only in numbers, but shared experiences and just grievances, mostly extending from the remnants of Empire and colonisation. It is also clear: there are disadvantages inherent in claiming too “big a church” for too “diverse a congregation” (my unoriginal metaphors). Appiah also agues on the point of the immense range of internal diversity; cultural and religious (e.g. consider alone India: Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, etc., languages and dialects ad infinitum, socio-economic status and caste) that further complicate sympathies and allegiances.
Today the project still remains highly contentious – for every example of mutuality sought there is at least another of repudiation and offence. But, as an “idea” of inclusivity, it is not dead and that is something.
Returning to consider the matter in respect to the United States, Appiah writes, then rhetorically asks:
There’s a reason that “political Blackness” never gained much purchase in the United States. In Britain, what matters most is whether or not you’re white; in America, what matters most is whether or not you’re Black.
Still, in the United States today, similar debates roil over “people of color” and the acronym now in favor, BIPOC (for Black, Indigenous and people of color). Does such nomenclature suggest that all nonwhite people are interchangeable? Indian-Americans have a household income that’s two-thirds higher than the national median; for Black people, it’s a third lower. Should these groups share an umbrella? Does the language of generality blunt the sharp analysis of racial disparities we need?
Opinion, The New York Times, October 7 2020
And it gets worse – my confusion I mean – when Appiah acquaints me with ADOS (American Descendants of Slavery), a collective with an agenda based on exclusivity rather than inclusivity. How helpful is that one may well ask. Then, too, there is “colorism” as a particularly virulent example of internal divisions across ethnicities, and his example of the Zoe Saldana/Nina Simone fracas from a few years ago is illustrative of the inconsistencies pertaining to Blackness. On one end of the scale: how Black is Black enough? (Saldana evidently was not Black enough.) And on the other: a lighter shading seen as more aesthetically pleasing to some (e.g. in Hollywood, in fashion). Neither of those extremes even deserve reconciliation. It is interesting to note, that after holding her ground on a claim of artistic prerogative of sorts, Saldana has in recent times disavowed her role.
Returning to Kamala Harris, I believe I have heard her say (and, surprise, .surprise, it is important what she has to say on the matter!) that she identifies as Black; does she also as an Indian-American? Bi-racial? Or all of those. Perhaps the ADOS would disown her, though I would contend with Jamaican ancestry her forefathers would have shared the same fate as all Africans traded into slavery – whether on mainland America, or in the Caribbean, or elsewhere. Interesting from the Appiah extract above, one may presume, however Harris may see herself and others see her, she certainly is (a whole lot!) wealthier (I could have said “privileged”, but that is another one of those troublesome words!) than the average from most any demographic!
Sometimes the view from outside is worthy of consideration: I see Kamala Harris, and I see someone who is really quite representative of many other Americans one may come across in the big wide world. I hear Kamala Harris and can then be assured appearances did not deceive, and can further assume something about her socio-economic status. Ms. Harris, then, as an affluent, well-educated, American woman of a certain age. Being American though doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. And, wasn’t that what citizenship in the modern context was meant to be about; as an identification attribute that doesn’t presume to supersede individual histories, but rather to encourage fidelity through common purpose. Sometimes, it seems to me that the extent to which we are forever shifting and reinterpreting – and making small – the boundaries of individual identity (and freedoms), is having an increasingly detrimental effect upon initiatives based on inclusivity that aim to seek out and foster commonality – break down walls, barriers, and all the other (granted, overused) applicable metaphors.
Kwame Anthony Appiah‘s article is an absolute must read, even if on rereading I have ended up with one or two more spanners in the works! And, yes, he concludes, and who can disagree, Blackness can’t help but be political, and it follows, whiteness likewise.