Dissecting my own arguments

  • January 21, 2015 11:53

I want to understand, I really want to. Because I don’t want to contribute to any racial violence. Not intentionally, but neither by ignorance or unwillingness to see.

https://processedlives.wordpress.com/2013/11/16/the-language-of-racial-innocence/

I read this one because the titel rang a bell: wasn’t I claiming racial innocence when saying that colour was not, has never been and will never be an issue to me? It certainly looks like it.

Not all of the white arguments mentioned in the article apply to me – I strongly disagree with some of them – , but some seemed logic and therefore, prone to elaborate dissecting.

 

What recent events have yielded is that a lot of White Autochtoon Dutch folks, when facing the charge of racism, feel that it is their self-image—as good, non-racist (and thus “innocent”) citizens of a tolerant country—and their moral character, in particular, that are being threatened.”

Yes, this one applies to me, apart from the ‘tolerant country’ part, because I do not consider this country as tolerant at all, on the contrary. I think I do consider myself as ‘mainly good’ and non-racist and somewhere deep inside as innocent to racism, because I would tend to think that racism is something that other people do. I don’t refer to myself as tolerant, because I think it is a very negative word, as it expresses something like ‘not objecting to the presence of someone or something you dislike, devalue or disagree with’. To me, tolerance has a very hypocrite meaning as negative judgements are inherent to the word but it is pushed forward as if it were a positive thing.

 

The outward appearance of benevolence, tolerance, and innocence has been central both to the Dutch national self-image and to the political manufacture of the White Autochtoon Dutch identity. The Dutch have become so invested in the image of their being tolerant, “good” people that to many the unrelenting stream of reactionary and racist comments directed at anti-blackface campaigners came as a “complete surprise.””

When I left to France, back in 1986, I think I still had this idea of a non-racist national identity and I was shocked by the normality of racism in France. When I came back ten years later, I realised that meanwhile something had changed. In my memory, before ’86, white people would disagree on and correct racist statements made by other white people (perhaps not everywhere, but at least the people I was familiar to). But I also had the belief that there was less police violence back then and I know now that that wasn’t true. So perhaps I just thought that Dutch people were less racist then than they are now, which is exactly the image that the article is referring to. During the nineties and the first decade of the new millenium, obvious racism was getting clearer and clearer. And from the moment I got involved in the struggle of the migrants, I discovered – to my horror – the amplitude of institutionalised and hidden racism. I know, for not experiencing it personally, I would never be able to discover the full amplitude of institutionalised racism, but what I saw of it was already horrifying.

 

So when I started to notice the anti-blackface protests, three years ago (knowing now that there have been anti-blackface protests for decades, what I didn’t know at that time), I was shocked, but not surprised by the racist comments, as I already considered the myth of ‘tolerant, non-racist and welcoming’ Netherlands as a collective self-deceit.

 

Blackface. Untill three years ago blackface was part of the yearly Sinterklaas celebration I did with my children, on wrap paper, candy, in poems, all over. So even if it is not anymore and will never be again, my children grew up with it. I can remember a couple of occasions when my children were toddlers, saying “hee, zwarte piet” to someone of colour. I was really ashamed and corrected them, but apparently stupid enough to not relate this to the direct source and ban blackface out of the celebration. So here goes my presumed innocence: I’ve induced my children with racism as well. When I finally realised how racist it is, I banned blackface from our celebrations at home and started the process of deconstructing this in my childrens heads, who are now young adults and adolescents. I’m happy to see that two of my children have become anti-blackface and are willing to defend this point of view amidst their pro-blackface peers, up to the point of ending all contact with them. But I’m also disappointed by the fact that my two other children were not willing to change their point of view, one out of fear of exclusion by her friends, the other out of total lack of interest.

 

Conclusion: dissecting this one made me realise that my idea of me being innocent of racism is wrong.

 

Back to the article.

It comes, then, as no surprise that analyses exposing the racist roots of the figure of Zwarte Piet have often been met with outright denial, and insistent appeals to innocence and good intentions.”

For having been confronted with those arguments since I joined anti-blackface protests in daily life, I know. I respond to them as I did here: http://www.dhjana.nl/2014/11/17/kom-nou-eens-met-argumenten/. I certainly do not agree or identify with them.

 

The constant retelling of this myth has worked to strengthen the conviction that if a White Autochtoon Dutch person is benevolent, welcoming, tolerant, and committed to a progressive liberal agenda, then any charge of racism against them is spurious-”

Something weird happens here. When in the context of the reaction of white people to the anti-blackface protests, I can easily see how ridiculous this reaction is. But (?!) when it comes to myself – let’s rephrase like this “the conviction that I am benevolent, welcoming [leaving out tolerant, see above] and comitted to a progressive liberal agenda, then any charge of racism against me is spurious” – all of a sudden it seems logic and not ridiculous at all. Hence, I’m clinging to my own myth. But knowing I am not fully post-racial, it can be nothing else but a myth.

 

The problem is apparently, that I want to distinguish levels of racism and, as I find myself innocent to intentional and obvious racism, I tend to think that therefore, any charge of racism is spurious. This is a difficult one on deconstructing. I know that, as I said before, I cannot at this point be fully post-racial. And I also know that I’m not innocent to racism, as I said above. So a charge of racism is – even if I have an immediate defensive reaction – very likely to be true and well-founded. But it feels as if I’m accused of the same intentional and disgusting racism that pro-blackface people show, or that is showed now in the aftermath of the attacks on Charlie Hebdo. That hurts, because that is the kind of racism that I fight against. But what is this term, ‘kind of racism’? Can you speak of ‘kinds’ or ‘levels’ of racism? Obvious racism is racism. Hidden racism is racism. Unintentional racism is racism. Micro-agressions are racism. Looking at it like this, the whole concept of ‘levels of racism’ is ridiculous. I wouldn’t accept a ‘level of blackface’ neither; there is no solution but a complete ban, as simple as that. Thus, ‘levels of racism’ do not exist and the concept is even harmful to the eradication of racism.

 

And still: something in me strongly believes that it is wrong to accuse someone of something that this person didn’t do. According to that principle – in which I really believe – I then would say: accuse me of the racism that I’m guilty of when I didn’t recognise the efforts of reshaping and correcting a discussion and blocked it, the racism I’m guilty of when using the racial innocence argument, but please, don’t accuse me of the racism I’m not guilty of, like considering a charge of racism as an act of ingratitude (I’ll come back to that one later). But that doesn’t work neither, because by saying this, I would try to force the other person in differentiating levels of racism – that do not exist and of which the concept is harmful.

 

This really ís a difficult one, because the principle of not accusing someone of something that this person didn’t do, is important to me. What if I try to translate the situation?

 

Let’s say that one of my children stole something of me and that this child didn’t do it once, but several times. I consider stealing as wrong (well, okay, with the exception of stealing from big multinationals). Therefore, it doesn’t matter if this child stole fifty eurocents, twenty euro’s, a worn-out shirt or a new dress (supposedly I would have new dresses, which is luckily never the case, but okay). It doesn’t matter what the child steals, the act of stealing is wrong. Therefore, I would not distinguish ‘levels of stealing’. But still, I would not call my child a ‘thief’, because by doing so, I would devalue the person in stead of the act – which I think is not right. And if I would accuse this child of stealing something it didn’t steal – even if it stole a hundred times before – I would consider that as wrong of my part.

 

This is difficult. Both paths seem logic, both seem morally right. Wait. There was something about ‘morally right’ in the article.

 

Here it is: “It is the White person who positions themselves as “good” who gets to boast moral superiority. The moral claims of Black folks are not  taken seriously, at all.” Now I’m starting to get it. In the translated example of the stealing child I rely on what I consider as morally right and, based on that, I think that this morality should apply on the first situation as well. But I just realised that there is a huge difference between the two situations. For having experienced it, I’m entitled to take a moral standpoint on the situation of the stealing child. But as a white woman, I have not experienced racism (I have experienced a lot of painful other ways of exclusion and rejection, but I haven’t experienced racism). Therefore, I’m not entitled to take a moral standpoint on this. No, let’s nuance that: I am entitled to take a moral standpoint and out of accountability I am even obliged to take a standpoint, but if this differs from the moral standpoint from the black person accusing me of racism, there can not be moral superiority on my side.

 

Then another hurdle rises, let’s dissect that one as well. What if the other person is wrong, for example by accusing me of thinking something that I didn’t think? Anyone could be wrong sometime. Mistakes can be made by anyone, in any situation, especially when it comes to assuming what people think. So if a black person, assuming I thought something racist, accused me of racism for thinking that, but if at the same time I would know that I didn’t think that and was – at that point! – wrongly accused, should I then accept the accusation because there are different standpoints but no moral superiority on my side?

 

No, I don’t think so. In the case of a thought, when it concerns my thoughts, there is only one expert: me. I know if I have had this thought or not. When I know I didn’t, there is no reason to accept a wrong accusation. But if I did have that thought, or in the case of an act, something I did or said, then if it comes to judging if that was racist or not, then I’m not the expert; the other person is.

 

I’m tired now and my slowly healing broken fingers hurt. More dissecting next time. There is probably a lot to say about this attempt to deconstruct my own white arguments. I know: I’m far from being post-racial. But it’s a learning process – step by step.