Anti-Blackness, Colonialism and Mississippi Masala
Coming to terms with complexities of anti-Blackness within South Asian communities and myself
I am outraged, frustrated, scared, numb and exhausted. Violence against Black bodies is not new. The recent death of George Floyd feels all too familiar. “I can’t breathe” were the same final words of both Eric Garner in 2014 and George Floyd in 2020 and who knows how many others whose names we do not know. I am not Black but am equally responsible, if not more so, to call out and fight back against racism and anti-blackness. As a first-generation Indian American, I am proud of the recent stories of South Asian solidarity with Black Lives Matters including Ruhel Islam, owner of Gandhi Mahal restaurant, who stood in solidarity with protestors and cared more about justice than his burnt restaurant or Rahul Dubey, who sheltered more than 70 protesters in Washington DC from excessive police violence. Sikh Gurdwaras have been mobilizing to provide free meals to protestors and see this service, or langar as a form of revolution. Historically, Indians have played an important role in racial justice movements like working with native South Africans to end Apartheid.
However, behind these beautiful examples persists generations of ugly discrimination and anti-Blackness within the South Asian community that needs deep examination in order to truly stand with our Black brothers and sisters. This time feels different for me, because I am looking within to examine the ways I have perpetuated anti-Blackness and racism and stayed silent too many times. I felt I was doing my part in pointing fingers at ‘those’ white racists and railing against structural racism. I didn’t think I had to change or could do much to sway or educate others; therefore, I wasn’t really part of the fight. Instead of seeing it as just an external fight, standing with and supporting Black communities is an internal fight too. We must examine our anti-Blackness, in every race and culture to fully overcome the learned hate, ignorance and generational trauma that has stained our country and world for hundreds of years.
My intention is to take ownership of my contribution, not to co-opt the space. South Asians must acknowledge and understand our history to confront our challenging and uncomfortable present.
As a Sikh Indian American, I struggled with my identity for years. I was either too Indian or not Indian enough. As a kid in my predominantly white school, I remember being bullied and taunted by kids asking me where my red dot was, if I worshiped cows and why my house smelled. My sense of otherness, racial and ethnic identity and longing to belong were persistent throughout my childhood and into adulthood. Meanwhile, at home and with relatives, I was shamed for not speaking Punjabi well, not knowing about certain cultural practices or holidays and generally being “white washed.” As I was struggling with my identity, I saw how the boys and men in my family faced similar identity issues in a world that couldn’t neatly place them either. Many South Asian boys and men gravitate to Black culture. It is visible in dress, music, style, speech, etc. This is not uncommon in America among many races, as Black culture has been co-opted and frequently defines what is considered “cool.” However, I also saw how the men in my family were profiled and treated by the police was similar (not the same) as other Black men. My 6’6 ft brother was often pulled over by the police in our mostly white San Mateo neighborhood to check if he lived in the area. After discovering he did, they would fake reasons to interrogate him further. I have not had to fear the threat of police violence or had white people gawk because they are scared of me or had to worry about coming off as a threat to white coworkers because they may feel physically threatened for no reason. The men in my family have.
Despite the desire by South Asian men to assimilate with Black culture and people, neither men nor women embrace being physically darker. This overt anti-blackness is rooted in colorism — racism’s cousin and white supremacy’s best friend. Colorism is the belief that the lighter you are, the more attractive, intelligent, successful and overall the better person you are. After a soccer season in high school, my grandmother sweetly told me I was getting too dark and needed to bleach my face. Fair and Lovely remains popular in many Asian cultures. This is not unique to South Asians; this is a global issue and is reinforced by white people and people of color [like racism].
I raise this not to compare my experience with race to the Black community but to demonstrate you can be a target of racism and also a perpetrator if it.
Colorism is not the same as anti-blackness. How do you know your family or community reinforces, perpetuates and suffers from anti-blackness? Ask them what they would say if their son or daughter brought home a black partner. That will get a visceral reaction from most South Asian parents. Even the most progressive South Asians who proudly accept their black son or daughter-in-law probably were not thrilled right away. It is an ugly, sad and baseless prejudice. I remember watching Mira Nair’s Mississippi Masala, starring Denzel Washington, whose character falls for British Indian actress Sarita Choudhury, and feeling an instant connection. Their love story was taboo, and they ended up being ostracized and chastised by both the Indian and black communities. This was a chillingly accurate reflection of my own fears.
While finishing her residency, a South Asian friend of mine met a brilliant and well-respected Black doctor. She was terrified to tell her parents but I dismissed her fears and acknowledged her parents would be upset at first but they would come around soon. I accepted the fact that it would be harder without acknowledging why or how the racism embedded was wrong.
After 2+ years of dating, it was serious and she finally told them. Her parents went cold, silent and said they were “disappointed.” Her relationship with them has been precarious since. I hope they do come around but even then, how do you re-engage? How do you build a new family relationship when you know you are not welcome? How are we holding our parents, aunties, uncles, cousins, siblings and ourselves accountable for this anti-Blackness? What are the opportunities to educate and what level of willingness is needed? This experience is not the life-or-death situation of police violence, but it is another way Blacks are discriminated against and something us Indians just accept as fact. At best, the sentiment is, your life will be harder if you are with a Black person, so just don’t do it. At worst, it perpetuates stereotypes of Black communities as without a future and does not acknowledge the systemic injustice that has robbed African Americans of the opportunity to thrive in America — from housing and job discrimination to violence, exploitation and murder.
Part of the hate comes from fear that intermarrying dilutes your culture — the language, food, traditions, religion, etc. That fear is masking prejudice and anti-Blackness in particular since white partners are not met with the same level of hostility. We can retain and enhance our culture without hate. Frankly, I’m not exactly sure what this looks like or how, but I’m living it. Marrying a Jewish man has exposed the ways it is hard to maintain my cultural and ethnic identity. But I refuse to accept that hate and exclusion are the answer. Rather, how will this next generation of biracial kids reimagine how to define themselves, and what is my responsibility in that?
Colonialism to model minority:
Anti-Blackness is rooted in colonialism and white supremacy. How are White people going to control everyone else? Create privilege and build hierarchy and let people of color reinforce it! The British, a tiny island that at one point claimed most of the world, consistently used a “divide and rule” strategy to create priority communities that are still the seeds of unrest today.
I bring this up to demonstrate how the animosity in South Asian communities against Black people was learned. The contribution of the 2,000-year-old caste system, which includes colorism and racism, can also not be understated and deserves its own essay. Structural inequality to exclude and marginalize lower classes, often darker-skinned people like the “untouchables,” persist today. So maybe it was easier to swallow colonialism if you already believed that some people are born better or worse humans. Again, this needs its own deeper exploration and growing up in America adds complexity, too.
Globally, as Indians migrated, or were forcibly relocated by the British, they were given higher status and privilege over Black natives. In South Africa, Kenya, Uganda and other African countries, Indians were institutionalized as superior to native Black Africans, which translated to more rights including better living situations, jobs and education, among other things.
The strategically given privileges continued in the US with model minorities. The term was first used to describe Japanese-American success stories. In 1966, the New York Times Magazine described Asian Americans as having “strong work ethic due to their cultural heritage through respect for authority” while emphasizing their contrast with African American stereotypes. “Asian Americans are hardworking with no need for welfare; people of all races can make the same achievement as Asian Americans do through hard work, which proves the United States is not a racist society.”
Not only does this ignore the rich diversity and experiences within the AAPI community, it also reinforces the ‘divide and rule’ strategy and just in time, too, as the Civil Rights Movement was winning and more underrepresented groups joined African Americans in asserting their rights. Our opportunity to unite in solidarity was undermined by the power of white supremacy to divide races and create hierarchy and privilege.
Author and activist Deepa Iyla said it best, “Many South Asians take the ‘racial bribe’ and climb the racial ladder in a futile attempt to reach the status of whiteness. The hard conversations with our parents and our uncles and aunties about white supremacy, anti-Black racism, and solidarity are not usually easy or fruitful. But there are moments of clarity and windows of possibility.”
I know it is easier to judge in my shoes with all the privilege I have thanks to my parents and grandparents, who did the best they could and sacrificed so much for me to even be here. But we cannot continue to trade in privilege to advance ourselves or our families, if it comes at the expense of the Black community. Furthermore, we are battling for scraps of power as the buffet is in the other room. Fighting amongst each other is a great distraction from progressing towards real systemic change. Police violence is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to racism and anti-Blackness. Without the political, economic and cultural liberation of Black people, none of us will ever be free of the stain of racism. Focusing on stamping out anti-Blackness could be the tide that lifts all boats out of the dirty waters of racism. That fight begins within our communities, within our families, and amongst our friends. We must unite to decolonize the framework forced on us by our history and dismantle the structures of power that keep us from reimagining a collective future. Together we are powerful. United we are unstoppable.
Some inspirational work happening:
Cultural change targeting South Asians
Blindian
SouthAsians4blacklives
Building Movement Project
BrowngirlMag
The_Indian_Feminist
Hasan Minhaj clip on anti-Blackness and hypocrisy in South Asian community
Economic empowerment
Find black owned restaurants near you — get delivery via Uber/ Postmates
App to find, support and donate to black owned business
Forbes features 75 Black owned business
Political Empowerment: [DONATE and/or get involved!]
Black Future Labs
28 orgs that empower Black communities