truthout--2020-06-26--States Are Legally Required to Protect the Right to Vote

As the 2020 general election approaches , the Trump Administration and Republican-controlled states have ramped-up efforts to keep people of color from exercising their right to vote .
Leaders of the Republican Party favor suppressing the votes of minority people , knowing they likely support Democratic candidates .
In March 2020 , The Guardian reported that Texas leads the South in closing voting locations , with the vast majority of closures in communities with large African-American or Latino populations .
Other voter suppression tactics include laws making it more difficult to register new voters , or requiring voters to show @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Alabama began enforcing a law requiring specific types of photo ID in order to vote , while contemporaneously closing DMV offices where the ID is issued , in 8 of 10 counties having the highest percentage of black voters .
In the run-up to the 2020 general election , Republicans are focused on limiting the use of mail-in ballots as another way to reduce voter turnout .
In addition , voter roll purges will prevent those who are purged from getting a ballot .
If in-person voting becomes the only option , voters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ health to vote .
Transportation difficulties and long waits at polling sites discourage many poor and working people from voting .
Efforts to make it more difficult for people to vote not only violate democratic principles , but are also illegal .
The Fifteenth Amendment to the US Constitution , passed shortly after the Civil War during Reconstruction , prohibits the federal government and the states from denying a citizen the right to vote based on his or her “ race , color , or previous condition of servitude.
” Unfortunately , after @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Supreme Court said the Fifteenth Amendment did not guarantee the right to vote , but only prevented denial of that right based on a voter ’ s race .
State and local officials quickly devised ingenious ruses to deny minority voting rights .
Nearly a hundred years later , Congress enacted , and President Lyndon Johnson signed , the Voting Rights Act of 1965 , to counteract those ruses and enforce the Fifteenth Amendment .
The 1965 Act included an enforcement provision that targeted specified jurisdictions where discrimination had been rampant .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ change affecting voting rights without preclearance from the federal government .
The Act proved effective until the Supreme Court , in Shelby v. Holder , eliminated this federal protection .
Since that time , state and local lawmakers have freely taken actions that put obstacles in the way of people trying to vote .
The Brennan Center for Justice reports that jurisdictions no longer subject to federal preclearance had significantly elevated purge rates in the general election cycle that followed Shelby .
In 1993 , Congress passed the National Voter Registration Act to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ requires public benefits offices , including Departments of Motor Vehicles , to register people to vote when they come to get benefits or a drivers ’ license .
This law also declares the right to vote is a fundamental right .
That means governmental efforts to restrict the right to vote must have a compelling purpose .
Additional protection for voting rights in the U.S. is guaranteed by treaties that the United States has ratified .
Article VI , section 2 of the Constitution states “ … all Treaties made , … under @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shall be the supreme Law of the Land ; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby , any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.
” Thus , ratified treaties are the supreme law of the land .
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights , or UDHR , of 1948 was written under the auspices of the United Nations .
The United States was a prime mover in drafting the UDHR and Eleanor Roosevelt was one of its authors .
The right to vote @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the UDHR , which provides , “ Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country , directly or through freely chosen representatives.
” The rights set forth in the UDHR were written into binding treaties which more specifically define those rights .
The United States has ratified two treaties that address voting : 1 ) the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights ( ICCPR ) and 2 ) the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination .
( CERD ) .
Article 25 of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have the right and opportunity “ to take part in the conduct of public affairs… to vote and be elected at genuine periodic elections.
” The rights guaranteed in Article 25 are to be enjoyed without distinctions based on race , color , sex , language , religion , political or other opinion , national or social origin , property , birth or other status .
The body which interprets the ICCPR has stated that , “ Article 25 lies at the core of democratic government based on the consent of the people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Covenant .
States must take effective measures to ensure that all persons entitled to vote are able to exercise that right.
” Now is the time for people to demand that state and local governments take effective measures to ensure all eligible persons are permitted to exercise their right to vote .
“ Effective measures ” means removing barriers and obstacles to voting .
Those obstacles include strict voter ID laws and inadequate access to polling places in areas where minority voters predominate .
Litigators and activists should expand their legal arsenal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tend to rely upon existing constitutional and statutory provisions to seek enforcement of voter rights .
They should also use ratified treaties , such as the ICCPR and CERD , which impose affirmative duties on states to take all effective measures to ensure all those entitled to vote can vote .
We must insist that all eligible voters have ready access to cast a ballot in the crucial upcoming 2020 general election .

As the 2020 general election approaches, the Trump Administration and Republican-controlled states have ramped-up efforts to keep people of color from exercising their right to vote. Leaders of the Republican Party favor suppressing the votes of minority people, knowing they likely support Democratic candidates. In March 2020, The Guardian reported that Texas leads the South in closing voting locations, with the vast majority of closures in communities with large African-American or Latino populations. Other voter suppression tactics include laws making it more difficult to register new voters, or requiring voters to show a government-issued ID. In 2014, Alabama began enforcing a law requiring specific types of photo ID in order to vote, while contemporaneously closing DMV offices where the ID is issued, in 8 of 10 counties having the highest percentage of black voters. In the run-up to the 2020 general election, Republicans are focused on limiting the use of mail-in ballots as another way to reduce voter turnout. In addition, voter roll purges will prevent those who are purged from getting a ballot. If in-person voting becomes the only option, voters fearing exposure to Coronavirus must risk their health to vote. Transportation difficulties and long waits at polling sites discourage many poor and working people from voting.
Efforts to make it more difficult for people to vote not only violate democratic principles, but are also illegal. The Fifteenth Amendment to the US Constitution, passed shortly after the Civil War during Reconstruction, prohibits the federal government and the states from denying a citizen the right to vote based on his or her “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Unfortunately, after Reconstruction gave way to Jim Crow, the Supreme Court said the Fifteenth Amendment did not guarantee the right to vote, but only prevented denial of that right based on a voter’s race. State and local officials quickly devised ingenious ruses to deny minority voting rights.
Nearly a hundred years later, Congress enacted, and President Lyndon Johnson signed, the Voting Rights Act of 1965, to counteract those ruses and enforce the Fifteenth Amendment. The 1965 Act included an enforcement provision that targeted specified jurisdictions where discrimination had been rampant. It forbade those jurisdictions from implementing any change affecting voting rights without preclearance from the federal government. The Act proved effective until the Supreme Court, in Shelby v. Holder, eliminated this federal protection. Since that time, state and local lawmakers have freely taken actions that put obstacles in the way of people trying to vote. The Brennan Center for Justice reports that jurisdictions no longer subject to federal preclearance had significantly elevated purge rates in the general election cycle that followed Shelby.
In 1993, Congress passed the National Voter Registration Act to address barriers to registration. The law requires public benefits offices, including Departments of Motor Vehicles, to register people to vote when they come to get benefits or a drivers’ license. This law also declares the right to vote is a fundamental right. That means governmental efforts to restrict the right to vote must have a compelling purpose.
Additional protection for voting rights in the U.S. is guaranteed by treaties that the United States has ratified. Article VI, section 2 of the Constitution states “… all Treaties made, … under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.” Thus, ratified treaties are the supreme law of the land.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, or UDHR, of 1948 was written under the auspices of the United Nations. The United States was a prime mover in drafting the UDHR and Eleanor Roosevelt was one of its authors. The right to vote is expressly enshrined in Article 21 of the UDHR, which provides, “Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives.” The rights set forth in the UDHR were written into binding treaties which more specifically define those rights. The United States has ratified two treaties that address voting: 1) the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and 2) the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination. (CERD).
Article 25 of the ICCPR declares that every citizen shall have the right and opportunity “to take part in the conduct of public affairs… to vote and be elected at genuine periodic elections.” The rights guaranteed in Article 25 are to be enjoyed without distinctions based on race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. The body which interprets the ICCPR has stated that, “Article 25 lies at the core of democratic government based on the consent of the people and in conformity with the principles of the Covenant. States must take effective measures to ensure that all persons entitled to vote are able to exercise that right.”
Now is the time for people to demand that state and local governments take effective measures to ensure all eligible persons are permitted to exercise their right to vote. “Effective measures” means removing barriers and obstacles to voting. Those obstacles include strict voter ID laws and inadequate access to polling places in areas where minority voters predominate.
Litigators and activists should expand their legal arsenal as they attack voter suppression. They tend to rely upon existing constitutional and statutory provisions to seek enforcement of voter rights. They should also use ratified treaties, such as the ICCPR and CERD, which impose affirmative duties on states to take all effective measures to ensure all those entitled to vote can vote. We must insist that all eligible voters have ready access to cast a ballot in the crucial upcoming 2020 general election.
Tired of reading the same old news from the same old sources? So are we! That’s why we’re on a mission to shake things up and bring you the stories and perspectives that often go untold in mainstream media. But being a radically, unapologetically independent news site isn’t easy (or cheap), and we rely on reader support to keep the lights on.
If you like what you’re reading, please consider making a tax-deductible donation today. We’re not asking for a handout, we’re asking for an investment: Invest in a nonprofit news site that’s not afraid to ruffle a few feathers, not afraid to stand up for what’s right, and not afraid to tell it like it is.
This piece was reprinted by Truthout with permission or license. It may not be reproduced in any form without permission or license from the source.


truthout--2020-06-26--We Must Defund Militarization From the Local Police to the Pentagon

In the wake of the global protests against the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis , activists have begun to reclaim public spaces by destroying statues of conquerors , slave traders , white supremacists and colonizers .
In the United States alone , protesters have torn down and defaced statues of Confederate generals in Richmond , Virginia ; Nashville , Tennessee ; and Montgomery , Alabama ; and statues of Christopher Columbus in St. Paul , Minnesota , and Boston , Massachusetts .
Globally , sympathetic protesters in Bristol , U.K. , threw a statue of Edward Colston — a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ River Avon , while activists in Belgium defaced a statue of King Leopold II — the founder of the Congo Free State — prompting city officials to remove it .
In response , the liberal intelligentsia and a bipartisan coalition of congressional representatives have offered their own efforts to confront the racist history of the United States .
In a recent opinion piece , The New York Times editorial board charged the U.S. military with celebrating white supremacy , calling for the renaming of military bases honoring Confederate generals .
On June 10 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an amendment offered by Sen. Elizabeth Warren to remove the names of Confederate officials from U.S. military assets in three years , a measure that would include renaming military bases as well as aircraft , ships , weapons and streets .
In the House , Speaker Nancy Pelosi has supported a similar bipartisan amendment to the $ 740 billion defense spending bill , while also calling for the removal of 11 Confederate statues from the Capitol .
There is no question that military bases named after Confederate generals should be renamed .
But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ while simultaneously expanding the military budget masks the global roots of structural racism in the United States .
It neglects that racialized policing domestically is intricately connected to the exercise of U.S. international police power abroad .
Several sociologists and historians have shown how counterinsurgency tactics developed to quell anti-colonial revolts boomeranged back to the metropole , influencing the tactics that urban police forces use to counteract the tactics of Black-led protest movements .
Calls to rename military bases exemplify what Aziz Rana calls “ national security citizenship.
” From Crispus Attucks fighting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Du Bois ’ s call to “ close ranks ” and set aside Black grievances in support of U.S. entry into World War I to the demands of the NAACP to desegregate the military , Black Americans are frequently forced to align their demands for racial inclusion with the imperatives of the national security state .
What the call to rebrand these military bases ultimately misses is the intertwined nature of domestic and international politics .
It misses how the terrifying displays of firepower by municipal police against the recent protests are enabled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in 2020 that comprises 37 percent of global military expenditures , an amount larger than the next seven biggest military budgets of major global powers .
These military expenditures directly make their way to the police .
In 1990 , President George H.W .
Bush signed into law the 1033 Program , which authorized the transfer of surplus military equipment and weapons from the Department of Defense to local law enforcement .
In 2015 , President Obama signed an executive order modestly limiting the program , only to be reversed in 2017 .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ how domestic bases honoring white supremacists and Confederate generals are part of a global military apparatus that spans 800 bases in over 70 countries .
This “ empire of bases , ” as the late political scientist Chalmers Johnson has called it , has since 1945 reinforced a liberal international order predicated on free trade , structural adjustments , unbridled multinational capital and global financial deregulation .
Just as this empire of bases segregates the impoverished peoples of the Global South in a system of global apartheid , municipal police forces similarly enforce @ @ @ @ @ @ @ affluence .
Stationed at these imperial outposts , CIA agents or other branches of the national security state have interfered with at least 85 elections worldwide since 1947 , a number that does not include military coups and regime change following elections of leaders opposed to U.S. interests .
In the 1960s , Black Power activists referred to the structural conditions facing Black Americans as a system of “ internal colonialism.
” More than an analogy that metaphorically likens structural racism in the United States to colonial domination abroad , the idea of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ poverty domestically is systematically tethered to the exercise of U.S. imperial power and the foreign policy of the national security state .
The Black Lives Matter movement has recently revived this vibrant connection between anti-imperialism and anti-racism .
In its 2015 policy platform , “ A Vision for Black Lives : Policy Demands for Black Power , Freedom , and Justice , ” the Movement for Black Lives called for the simultaneous “ divestment from exploitative forces including prisons , fossil fuels , police , surveillance , and exploitative corporations ” and “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ safety of Black people.
” The platform went on to demand “ A cut in military expenditures and a reallocation of those funds to invest in domestic infrastructure and community well-being.
” The drafters of the platform explicitly declared that “ America is an empire that uses war to expand territory and power.
” In framing the problem in this way , the platform captures the vicious circle of racialized policing and U.S. empire : Over-investment in the military budget designed to maintain global supremacy resulted in divestment from domestic social programs to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ education , ensure equitable health care and reverse patterns of hyper-incarceration .
The social problems arising from this divestment in poor and Black communities then became evidence of the need for greater investment in urban police forces to deal with “ Black criminality , ” which as we have seen in recent weeks , is merely a veiled dog whistle for politically motivated resistance .
The result is a self-fulfilling prophecy rooted in the militarization of U.S. society .
What the platform very simply shows is that bloated police budgets and bloated military @ @ @ @ @ @ @ coin .
They are both causes and symptoms of a national divestment in poor people and communities of color .
Renaming military bases that memorialize white supremacists through a spending bill that expands the defense budget by $ 20 billion amounts to nothing more than a racially inclusive militarism domestically that remains imperialistic globally .
In the wake of the unprecedented uprisings and protests in early June , the demands of Black activists are beginning to materialize .
But if calls to defund the police are to have any teeth , they must @ @ @ @ @ @ @ defund the U.S. military .
To respond to the demands of protesters by leaving the paraphernalia of U.S. empire intact is not simply to miss the point — it is to resign oneself to the self-defeating logic of the adage expressed by composer Richard Wagner : “ The wound can only be healed by the spear that smote you .
”

In the wake of the global protests against the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis, activists have begun to reclaim public spaces by destroying statues of conquerors, slave traders, white supremacists and colonizers. In the United States alone, protesters have torn down and defaced statues of Confederate generals in Richmond, Virginia; Nashville, Tennessee; and Montgomery, Alabama; and statues of Christopher Columbus in St. Paul, Minnesota, and Boston, Massachusetts. Globally, sympathetic protesters in Bristol, U.K., threw a statue of Edward Colston — a prominent 17th-century slave trader — into the River Avon, while activists in Belgium defaced a statue of King Leopold II — the founder of the Congo Free State — prompting city officials to remove it.
In response, the liberal intelligentsia and a bipartisan coalition of congressional representatives have offered their own efforts to confront the racist history of the United States. In a recent opinion piece, The New York Times editorial board charged the U.S. military with celebrating white supremacy, calling for the renaming of military bases honoring Confederate generals. On June 10, the Senate Armed Services Committee approved an amendment offered by Sen. Elizabeth Warren to remove the names of Confederate officials from U.S. military assets in three years, a measure that would include renaming military bases as well as aircraft, ships, weapons and streets. In the House, Speaker Nancy Pelosi has supported a similar bipartisan amendment to the $740 billion defense spending bill, while also calling for the removal of 11 Confederate statues from the Capitol.
There is no question that military bases named after Confederate generals should be renamed. But responding to the problem in this way while simultaneously expanding the military budget masks the global roots of structural racism in the United States. It neglects that racialized policing domestically is intricately connected to the exercise of U.S. international police power abroad. Several sociologists and historians have shown how counterinsurgency tactics developed to quell anti-colonial revolts boomeranged back to the metropole, influencing the tactics that urban police forces use to counteract the tactics of Black-led protest movements.
Calls to rename military bases exemplify what Aziz Rana calls “national security citizenship.” From Crispus Attucks fighting in the American Revolution to W.E.B. Du Bois’s call to “close ranks” and set aside Black grievances in support of U.S. entry into World War I to the demands of the NAACP to desegregate the military, Black Americans are frequently forced to align their demands for racial inclusion with the imperatives of the national security state.
What the call to rebrand these military bases ultimately misses is the intertwined nature of domestic and international politics. It misses how the terrifying displays of firepower by municipal police against the recent protests are enabled by a $721.5 billion military budget in 2020 that comprises 37 percent of global military expenditures, an amount larger than the next seven biggest military budgets of major global powers. These military expenditures directly make their way to the police. In 1990, President George H.W. Bush signed into law the 1033 Program, which authorized the transfer of surplus military equipment and weapons from the Department of Defense to local law enforcement. In 2015, President Obama signed an executive order modestly limiting the program, only to be reversed in 2017.
The call to rename bases also misses how domestic bases honoring white supremacists and Confederate generals are part of a global military apparatus that spans 800 bases in over 70 countries. This “empire of bases,” as the late political scientist Chalmers Johnson has called it, has since 1945 reinforced a liberal international order predicated on free trade, structural adjustments, unbridled multinational capital and global financial deregulation. Just as this empire of bases segregates the impoverished peoples of the Global South in a system of global apartheid, municipal police forces similarly enforce the boundaries between urban poverty and suburban affluence. Stationed at these imperial outposts, CIA agents or other branches of the national security state have interfered with at least 85 elections worldwide since 1947, a number that does not include military coups and regime change following elections of leaders opposed to U.S. interests.
Racialized policing domestically is intricately connected to the exercise of U.S. international police power abroad.
In the 1960s, Black Power activists referred to the structural conditions facing Black Americans as a system of “internal colonialism.” More than an analogy that metaphorically likens structural racism in the United States to colonial domination abroad, the idea of internal colonialism exposes how anti-Black violence and poverty domestically is systematically tethered to the exercise of U.S. imperial power and the foreign policy of the national security state.
The Black Lives Matter movement has recently revived this vibrant connection between anti-imperialism and anti-racism. In its 2015 policy platform, “A Vision for Black Lives: Policy Demands for Black Power, Freedom, and Justice,” the Movement for Black Lives called for the simultaneous “divestment from exploitative forces including prisons, fossil fuels, police, surveillance, and exploitative corporations” and “investments in the education, health and safety of Black people.” The platform went on to demand “A cut in military expenditures and a reallocation of those funds to invest in domestic infrastructure and community well-being.” The drafters of the platform explicitly declared that “America is an empire that uses war to expand territory and power.”
In framing the problem in this way, the platform captures the vicious circle of racialized policing and U.S. empire: Over-investment in the military budget designed to maintain global supremacy resulted in divestment from domestic social programs to combat poverty, increase access to public education, ensure equitable health care and reverse patterns of hyper-incarceration. The social problems arising from this divestment in poor and Black communities then became evidence of the need for greater investment in urban police forces to deal with “Black criminality,” which as we have seen in recent weeks, is merely a veiled dog whistle for politically motivated resistance. The result is a self-fulfilling prophecy rooted in the militarization of U.S. society. What the platform very simply shows is that bloated police budgets and bloated military budgets are two sides of the same coin. They are both causes and symptoms of a national divestment in poor people and communities of color.
Renaming military bases that memorialize white supremacists through a spending bill that expands the defense budget by $20 billion amounts to nothing more than a racially inclusive militarism domestically that remains imperialistic globally. In the wake of the unprecedented uprisings and protests in early June, the demands of Black activists are beginning to materialize. But if calls to defund the police are to have any teeth, they must move in tandem with calls to radically defund the U.S. military. To respond to the demands of protesters by leaving the paraphernalia of U.S. empire intact is not simply to miss the point — it is to resign oneself to the self-defeating logic of the adage expressed by composer Richard Wagner: “The wound can only be healed by the spear that smote you.”
Tired of reading the same old news from the same old sources? So are we! That’s why we’re on a mission to shake things up and bring you the stories and perspectives that often go untold in mainstream media. But being a radically, unapologetically independent news site isn’t easy (or cheap), and we rely on reader support to keep the lights on.
If you like what you’re reading, please consider making a tax-deductible donation today. We’re not asking for a handout, we’re asking for an investment: Invest in a nonprofit news site that’s not afraid to ruffle a few feathers, not afraid to stand up for what’s right, and not afraid to tell it like it is.
Copyright © Truthout. May not be reprinted without permission.


truthout--2020-06-26--It’s Time to Nationalize the Fossil Fuel Industry

The COVID-19 pandemic ’ s impact on the economy provides a golden opportunity for creating a fairer , more just and sustainable world as it shatters long-held assumptions about the economic and political order .
Its impact on the energy industry in particular can boost support for tackling the existential threat of global warming by raising the prospect of nationalizing and eventually dismantling fossil fuel producing companies , a position argued passionately by one of the world ’ s leading progressive economists , Robert Pollin , distinguished professor of economics and co-director of the Political Economy Research Institute at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Polychroniou : It has been argued by many that the coronavirus pandemic is a game changer for numerous industries , and could change the way we work and the way we use energy .
We could also see the possible return of the social state and thus the end of austerity .
First of all , are there any comparisons to be made between the current health and economic crises and what took place during the Great Depression ?
Robert Pollin : There is one big similarity between the economic collapse today @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is the severity of the downturns in both cases .
The official U.S. unemployment rate coming from the Labor Department as of May 2020 was 13.3 percent .
But a more accurate measure of the collapsing job market is the number of workers who have applied for unemployment insurance since the lockdown began in mid-March .
That figure is 44 million people , equal to about 27 percent of everyone in the current U.S. labor market , employed or unemployed .
By contrast , during the Great Recession of 2007-09 , official unemployment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , at 10.0 percent .
However , between 1930 and 1939 , U.S. unemployment averaged about 18 percent , peaking at nearly 25 percent in 1933 .
The obvious difference between the 1930s and now is that the 1930s figure is an average over 10 brutal years .
Our current severe job market is not going to last for 10 years .
It could only last for a few more months , before the official unemployment rate gets to something like the more “ benign ” levels of Great Recession years , i.e @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Still , since the March lockdown , the severity of the unemployment crisis has been comparable to the 1930s .
This brings up the single most critical point of contrast between the 1930s and today .
That is , we could have easily seen a decade-long economic depression now , except for the fact that the federal government today has intervened to an unprecedented extent to counteract the depression , while in the 1930s , the government did not intervene at the necessary scale until World War II .
The list of ways @ @ @ @ @ @ @ today are clueless is very long indeed .
But they have at least figured out that , to stave off a 1930s-level depression , you pump massive amounts of money into the economy .
For now , this has thus far included the so-called CARES Act , which passed Congress and Trump signed in March .
This was a $ 2 trillion injection , equal to about 10 percent of the overall U.S. economy ( Gross Domestic Product , or GDP ) , and still more important , Federal Reserve bailout funds for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the tune of something like $ 5 trillion — 25 percent of GDP — and counting .
Without the CARES Act and Federal Reserve bailouts , we could easily be looking right now at a replay of the 1930s .
Things are bad enough as it is , of course .
Plus , it is clear that the federal government funds are largely being stuffed into the pockets of corporations instead of where they are needed .
Spending on public health — in the midst of a pandemic no less — as well @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for workers and the poor are getting short shrift , as usual .
The oil and gas industry has been particularly hard hit during the coronavirus pandemic .
In that context , some , including yourself , have argued quite passionately that the time is ripe for nationalizing the fossil fuel industry .
What would be the advantages of doing so ?
And how could we finance the transition to a sustainable energy future ?
The underlying issue here is that , according to the thoroughly mainstream and highly cautious projection of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) we , the residents of planet Earth , have 30 years total to achieve net zero carbon dioxide ( CO2 ) emissions to have a reasonable chance of avoiding the most severe impacts of climate change — in terms of heat extremes , heavy precipitation , droughts , floods , sea-level rise and biodiversity , and the corresponding impacts on health , livelihoods , food security , water supply and human security .
There is no avoiding what this means — which is that the global fossil fuel industry simply must be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 30 years .
This is for the simple reason that burning fossil fuels to produce energy is what spews CO2 into the atmosphere , and is therefore the primary cause of climate change .
The need to put an end to the fossil fuel industry remains an imperative , regardless of whether the industry is facing financial difficulties , as they are at present , or swimming in profits .
Everyone on the planet simply has to stop burning oil , coal and natural gas to produce energy .
We can , of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the fossil fuel companies will fight fiercely , using every single tool at their disposal , to keep themselves alive , so that they can continue to reap big profits from destroying the Earth .
For that reason , probably the best way to defeat the fossil fuel companies , at least in the U.S. , is for the federal government to buy them .
That would bring the companies under public scrutiny and control , which should , in turn , create a clear path for giving them more than what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well-thought-out plan for a relatively painless death over the next 20 years or so .
Now it so happens that the U.S. and global oil industry is experiencing a severe crisis at present unrelated to climate change issues .
The current crisis has resulted from the collapse of demand for energy resulting from the pandemic and recession , and even before this , in early 2020 , an oil price war between Russia and Saudi Arabia .
Thus , the global price of oil fell by more than 50 percent in early 2020 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Reflecting these developments , a report on March 26 by the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas presented a “ bleak outlook ” for the oil industry over the near future , stating that “ industry layoffs and bankruptcies and lower U.S. crude oil production seem inevitable.
” Given these conditions , the U.S. oil and gas industry has been a major recipient of bailout funds , to keep the sector alive .
But why should we keep these industries alive in the first place , since they absolutely must be phased out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ It is critical to recognize that combined market value of the U.S. energy sector fell by nearly 50 percent between the beginning of 2020 and mid-April , from $ 1.27 trillion to $ 700 billion .
The industry has rebounded modestly ( but only modestly ) since April as lockdown conditions are loosening .
The point , in any case , is that the U.S. federal government could purchase a controlling interest in the entire U.S. industry now for around $ 350- $ 400 billion .
This amounts to less than 10 percent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Reserve has undertaken since March and is expected to continue doing in the coming months to bail out Wall Street .
To be a bit specific , the federal government could borrow the money to purchase a controlling interest in the U.S. oil industry , and the Federal Reserve could buy the Treasury Bonds , thereby effectively taking these bonds off the government ’ s books .
It ’ s the type of financial engineering operation that the Treasury and Fed could execute easily within the existing policy environment .
If this sounds @ @ @ @ @ @ @ useful to keep in mind that , during the 2007-09 Great Recession , the federal government did nationalize General Motors and Chrysler , two iconic U.S. corporations .
It was at that time , moreover , the Obama administration that established stringent fuel efficiency standards for the industry — the standards that Trump has been trying to revoke , of course .
Is the plan that you advocate for the nationalization of the fossil fuel industry similar to the one that was advocated by the Labour Party in the U.K. a few years @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but decentralized energy system ?
I actually favor a mix of ownership forms for a transformed energy system — that is , some public ownership , but also private ownership , especially at smaller scale , including community and cooperative private ownership .
Opportunities to develop these alternative smaller-scale ownership forms become a realistic possibility with a transformation to an energy system that relies primarily on solar and wind power , with all economic sectors operating at high efficiency .
The issue of who owns the energy resources is obviously of major significance @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my view , the single most important question is not the ownership form per se , but rather whether we are truly on the path to completely supplanting the existing fossil fuel-dominant energy system with one dominated by clean renewable energy sources and high efficiency .
Can nationalization of the energy industry alone guarantee that we will avert a climate change catastrophe ?
The answer is clearly “ no.
” In fact , throughout the world , the energy sector has long operated under a variety of ownership structures , including public/municipal ownership @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ownership in addition to private corporate entities .
Indeed , in the oil and natural gas industry , publicly owned national companies control approximately 90 percent of the world ’ s reserves and 75 percent of production .
They also control many of the oil and gas infrastructure systems .
These national corporations include Saudi Aramco , Gazprom in Russia , China National Petroleum Corporation , the National Iranian Oil Company , Petróleos de Venezuela , Petrobras in Brazil and Petronas in Malaysia .
None of these publicly owned companies operates with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ corporations , such as ExxonMobil , BP and Royal Dutch Shell .
But this does not mean that they are prepared to commit to fighting climate change simply because we face a global environmental emergency .
Just as with the private companies , most of the time , producing and selling fossil fuel energy generates huge revenue flows for these companies .
National development projects , lucrative careers and political power all depend on continuing the flow of large fossil fuel revenues .
We should therefore not expect that public ownership of energy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a more favorable framework for advancing effective clean energy industrial policies .
Wouldn ’ t there be job loss in the fossil field industry because of decarbonization ?
If so , how do we ensure that trade unions go along with the idea of nationalizing the fossil fuel industry ?
This is a critical question .
Everyone needs to recognize that workers and communities in the United States , as well as throughout the world , whose livelihoods depend on people consuming oil , coal and natural gas are going to lose out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is therefore only a modest exaggeration to say that the fate of the planet depends on whether we can put in place what the late , great labor organizer Tony Mazzocchi initially called just transition policies for these workers and communities .
Just transition policies have to include job , wage , pension and health care guarantees , along with retraining and relocation support , as needed , for all displaced workers .
A just transition must also include large-scale investments in heavily impacted communities .
These investments could be , for example @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and repurposing , as well as new investments in clean energy manufacturing .
Such policies are certainly justified according to any standard of fairness .
But they are also a matter of strategic politics .
Without such adjustment assistance programs operating at a major scale , the workers and communities facing retrenchment from the clean energy investment project will — along with their union representatives — predictably and understandably fight to defend their communities and livelihoods .
This in turn will create unacceptable delays in proceeding with effective climate stabilization policies .
If @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to reshape advanced capitalist societies , what other sectors of the economy would you recommend that they fall under public ownership ?
I don ’ t think we should assume that a transformation of the U.S. economy to advance equality , economic stability and ecological sanity necessarily requires public ownership across the board .
As I mentioned before , how do we deal with the fact that most of the world ’ s energy assets are already publicly owned ?
But let ’ s consider our ever more obviously disastrous health care system @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S. health care system is currently dominated by giant private insurance and pharmaceutical companies as well as big hospital conglomerates .
Here I would say step one is to establish Medicare for All — that is , everyone having the right to decent health care , with nobody facing any financial challenges at all in getting the care they need , including for all types of COVID testing and treatment , along with paid sick days off .
Under Medicare for All , some health care providers and hospitals could still operate as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ established by Medicare for All .
I would call that a mixed system , with public ownership of the health insurance provision , with some private ownership of physicians ’ practices , community clinics and hospitals .
To me , the overarching question is not public or private ownership as such .
The fundamental challenge is rather to always try to understand the alternative pathways to most effectively build truly egalitarian , democratic and ecologically sustainable societies , putting all labels aside .
That should always be our starting point in addressing the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S. or anyplace .
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and length .

The COVID-19 pandemic’s impact on the economy provides a golden opportunity for creating a fairer, more just and sustainable world as it shatters long-held assumptions about the economic and political order. Its impact on the energy industry in particular can boost support for tackling the existential threat of global warming by raising the prospect of nationalizing and eventually dismantling fossil fuel producing companies, a position argued passionately by one of the world’s leading progressive economists, Robert Pollin, distinguished professor of economics and co-director of the Political Economy Research Institute at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst.
C.J. Polychroniou: It has been argued by many that the coronavirus pandemic is a game changer for numerous industries, and could change the way we work and the way we use energy. We could also see the possible return of the social state and thus the end of austerity. First of all, are there any comparisons to be made between the current health and economic crises and what took place during the Great Depression?
Robert Pollin: There is one big similarity between the economic collapse today and the 1930s Great Depression. That is the severity of the downturns in both cases. The official U.S. unemployment rate coming from the Labor Department as of May 2020 was 13.3 percent. But a more accurate measure of the collapsing job market is the number of workers who have applied for unemployment insurance since the lockdown began in mid-March. That figure is 44 million people, equal to about 27 percent of everyone in the current U.S. labor market, employed or unemployed. By contrast, during the Great Recession of 2007-09, official unemployment peaked, and for one month only, at 10.0 percent.
However, between 1930 and 1939, U.S. unemployment averaged about 18 percent, peaking at nearly 25 percent in 1933. The obvious difference between the 1930s and now is that the 1930s figure is an average over 10 brutal years. Our current severe job market is not going to last for 10 years. It could only last for a few more months, before the official unemployment rate gets to something like the more “benign” levels of Great Recession years, i.e. “only” 8-9 percent. Still, since the March lockdown, the severity of the unemployment crisis has been comparable to the 1930s.
This brings up the single most critical point of contrast between the 1930s and today. That is, we could have easily seen a decade-long economic depression now, except for the fact that the federal government today has intervened to an unprecedented extent to counteract the depression, while in the 1930s, the government did not intervene at the necessary scale until World War II.
The list of ways in which orthodox economists and government policymakers today are clueless is very long indeed. But they have at least figured out that, to stave off a 1930s-level depression, you pump massive amounts of money into the economy. For now, this has thus far included the so-called CARES Act, which passed Congress and Trump signed in March. This was a $2 trillion injection, equal to about 10 percent of the overall U.S. economy (Gross Domestic Product, or GDP), and still more important, Federal Reserve bailout funds for big corporations and Wall Street, to the tune of something like $5 trillion — 25 percent of GDP — and counting. Without the CARES Act and Federal Reserve bailouts, we could easily be looking right now at a replay of the 1930s. Things are bad enough as it is, of course. Plus, it is clear that the federal government funds are largely being stuffed into the pockets of corporations instead of where they are needed. Spending on public health — in the midst of a pandemic no less — as well as public education, and direct support for workers and the poor are getting short shrift, as usual.
The oil and gas industry has been particularly hard hit during the coronavirus pandemic. In that context, some, including yourself, have argued quite passionately that the time is ripe for nationalizing the fossil fuel industry. What would be the advantages of doing so? And how could we finance the transition to a sustainable energy future?
The underlying issue here is that, according to the thoroughly mainstream and highly cautious projection of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) we, the residents of planet Earth, have 30 years total to achieve net zero carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions to have a reasonable chance of avoiding the most severe impacts of climate change — in terms of heat extremes, heavy precipitation, droughts, floods, sea-level rise and biodiversity, and the corresponding impacts on health, livelihoods, food security, water supply and human security. There is no avoiding what this means — which is that the global fossil fuel industry simply must be put out of business within the next 30 years. This is for the simple reason that burning fossil fuels to produce energy is what spews CO2 into the atmosphere, and is therefore the primary cause of climate change. The need to put an end to the fossil fuel industry remains an imperative, regardless of whether the industry is facing financial difficulties, as they are at present, or swimming in profits. Everyone on the planet simply has to stop burning oil, coal and natural gas to produce energy. We can, of course, take it as a given that the fossil fuel companies will fight fiercely, using every single tool at their disposal, to keep themselves alive, so that they can continue to reap big profits from destroying the Earth.
The best way to defeat the fossil fuel companies is to bring the companies under public scrutiny and control, which should create a clear path for a relatively painless death over the next 20 years or so.
For that reason, probably the best way to defeat the fossil fuel companies, at least in the U.S., is for the federal government to buy them. That would bring the companies under public scrutiny and control, which should, in turn, create a clear path for giving them more than what they actually deserve — which is a well-thought-out plan for a relatively painless death over the next 20 years or so.
Now it so happens that the U.S. and global oil industry is experiencing a severe crisis at present unrelated to climate change issues. The current crisis has resulted from the collapse of demand for energy resulting from the pandemic and recession, and even before this, in early 2020, an oil price war between Russia and Saudi Arabia. Thus, the global price of oil fell by more than 50 percent in early 2020, before the onset of the pandemic. Reflecting these developments, a report on March 26 by the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas presented a “bleak outlook” for the oil industry over the near future, stating that “industry layoffs and bankruptcies and lower U.S. crude oil production seem inevitable.” Given these conditions, the U.S. oil and gas industry has been a major recipient of bailout funds, to keep the sector alive. But why should we keep these industries alive in the first place, since they absolutely must be phased out within the next 20 years anyway?
It is critical to recognize that combined market value of the U.S. energy sector fell by nearly 50 percent between the beginning of 2020 and mid-April, from $1.27 trillion to $700 billion. The industry has rebounded modestly (but only modestly) since April as lockdown conditions are loosening. The point, in any case, is that the U.S. federal government could purchase a controlling interest in the entire U.S. industry now for around $350-$400 billion. This amounts to less than 10 percent of the bond purchases that the Federal Reserve has undertaken since March and is expected to continue doing in the coming months to bail out Wall Street. To be a bit specific, the federal government could borrow the money to purchase a controlling interest in the U.S. oil industry, and the Federal Reserve could buy the Treasury Bonds, thereby effectively taking these bonds off the government’s books. It’s the type of financial engineering operation that the Treasury and Fed could execute easily within the existing policy environment.
If this sounds like an outlandish proposal, it is useful to keep in mind that, during the 2007-09 Great Recession, the federal government did nationalize General Motors and Chrysler, two iconic U.S. corporations. It was at that time, moreover, the Obama administration that established stringent fuel efficiency standards for the industry — the standards that Trump has been trying to revoke, of course.
Is the plan that you advocate for the nationalization of the fossil fuel industry similar to the one that was advocated by the Labour Party in the U.K. a few years ago — namely, a publicly owned but decentralized energy system?
I actually favor a mix of ownership forms for a transformed energy system — that is, some public ownership, but also private ownership, especially at smaller scale, including community and cooperative private ownership. Opportunities to develop these alternative smaller-scale ownership forms become a realistic possibility with a transformation to an energy system that relies primarily on solar and wind power, with all economic sectors operating at high efficiency. The issue of who owns the energy resources is obviously of major significance. At the same time, in my view, the single most important question is not the ownership form per se, but rather whether we are truly on the path to completely supplanting the existing fossil fuel-dominant energy system with one dominated by clean renewable energy sources and high efficiency.
Can nationalization of the energy industry alone guarantee that we will avert a climate change catastrophe?
The answer is clearly “no.” In fact, throughout the world, the energy sector has long operated under a variety of ownership structures, including public/municipal ownership, and various forms of private cooperative ownership in addition to private corporate entities. Indeed, in the oil and natural gas industry, publicly owned national companies control approximately 90 percent of the world’s reserves and 75 percent of production. They also control many of the oil and gas infrastructure systems. These national corporations include Saudi Aramco, Gazprom in Russia, China National Petroleum Corporation, the National Iranian Oil Company, Petróleos de Venezuela, Petrobras in Brazil and Petronas in Malaysia. None of these publicly owned companies operates with the same profit imperatives as big private energy corporations, such as ExxonMobil, BP and Royal Dutch Shell. But this does not mean that they are prepared to commit to fighting climate change simply because we face a global environmental emergency. Just as with the private companies, most of the time, producing and selling fossil fuel energy generates huge revenue flows for these companies. National development projects, lucrative careers and political power all depend on continuing the flow of large fossil fuel revenues. We should therefore not expect that public ownership of energy companies will, by itself, provide a more favorable framework for advancing effective clean energy industrial policies.
Wouldn’t there be job loss in the fossil field industry because of decarbonization? If so, how do we ensure that trade unions go along with the idea of nationalizing the fossil fuel industry?
This is a critical question. Everyone needs to recognize that workers and communities in the United States, as well as throughout the world, whose livelihoods depend on people consuming oil, coal and natural gas are going to lose out in the clean energy transition. It is therefore only a modest exaggeration to say that the fate of the planet depends on whether we can put in place what the late, great labor organizer Tony Mazzocchi initially called just transition policies for these workers and communities. Just transition policies have to include job, wage, pension and health care guarantees, along with retraining and relocation support, as needed, for all displaced workers. A just transition must also include large-scale investments in heavily impacted communities. These investments could be, for example, in the areas of land reclamation and repurposing, as well as new investments in clean energy manufacturing. Such policies are certainly justified according to any standard of fairness. But they are also a matter of strategic politics. Without such adjustment assistance programs operating at a major scale, the workers and communities facing retrenchment from the clean energy investment project will — along with their union representatives — predictably and understandably fight to defend their communities and livelihoods. This in turn will create unacceptable delays in proceeding with effective climate stabilization policies.
If the coronavirus pandemic offers an opportune time to reshape advanced capitalist societies, what other sectors of the economy would you recommend that they fall under public ownership?
I don’t think we should assume that a transformation of the U.S. economy to advance equality, economic stability and ecological sanity necessarily requires public ownership across the board. As I mentioned before, how do we deal with the fact that most of the world’s energy assets are already publicly owned? But let’s consider our ever more obviously disastrous health care system as another case in point. The U.S. health care system is currently dominated by giant private insurance and pharmaceutical companies as well as big hospital conglomerates. Here I would say step one is to establish Medicare for All — that is, everyone having the right to decent health care, with nobody facing any financial challenges at all in getting the care they need, including for all types of COVID testing and treatment, along with paid sick days off. Under Medicare for All, some health care providers and hospitals could still operate as private entities, under the regulatory system established by Medicare for All. I would call that a mixed system, with public ownership of the health insurance provision, with some private ownership of physicians’ practices, community clinics and hospitals.
To me, the overarching question is not public or private ownership as such. The fundamental challenge is rather to always try to understand the alternative pathways to most effectively build truly egalitarian, democratic and ecologically sustainable societies, putting all labels aside. That should always be our starting point in addressing the issue of public ownership, in the U.S. or anyplace.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and length.
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truthout--2020-06-26--Colonized Loyalty: Asian American Anti-Blackness and Complicity

In the United States , racism against Asian Americans , whether in a public rally , in the public space or in the classroom , has become routine .
In March 2020 Donald Trump called the coronavirus “ Chinese Virus.
” On June 20 , 2020 , at an anemically attended rally in Tulsa , Oklahoma , Trump named the deadly coronavirus “ Kung Flu.
” The same week a white California professor , Matthew Hubbard , was put on leave after he asked a Vietnamese student to change her name .
The student ’ s name is Phuc Bui @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” means endearment and beauty .
The professor said that in English her name sounded like “ F-ck boy ” and the student needed to “ understand ” that her name has “ an offensive sound ” in his English language .
Then on June 21 , 2020 , an Indian restaurant owned by a Sikh family was vandalized by white supremacists in downtown Santa Fe , New Mexico .
When the Sikh owner , Bajit Singh , walked into his restaurant , India Palace , he found “ racial slurs graffitied all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Power , ” “ Trump 2020 , ” “ Go home.
” The Council on American-Islamic Relations ( CAIR ) and the New York-based Sikh Coalition also condemned the attack .
Ibrahim Hooper , CAIR ’ s national communications director named this vandalism a “ hate attack ” and said how such an attack “ once again demonstrates that growing white supremacy , xenophobia , Islamophobia and racism target every minority community and must be challenged by people of all races , faiths and backgrounds.
” This is not the first time Sikhs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Anti-Sikh hatred has been on the rise following Trump ’ s election , but the violence against Sikhs has always existed in the U.S. Racialized violence in the U.S. against Asians is not new .
While racism has existed since the first major wave of Asians arrived as early as 1850s , racialized violence against Asian Americans comes in waves and is expected to rise as we get closer to the U.S. elections in November 2020 .
Historians are predicting that something akin to the racial violence known as the “ Red @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be repeated .
The eruption of violence in 1919 was directed solely at African Americans .
This time , however , this racial violence may also be directed against Asian Americans , as we have already begun to see the rise in racist attacks associated with the scapegoating of Asians since the arrival of COVID-19 in the U.S .
While there is much written about the insidious and brutal forces of everyday white supremacy in the U.S. and how the Asian American diaspora has experienced many forms of exclusion ( as portrayed in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Americans ) , one question still remains .
Why have Asians/Asian-Americans , a minority group themselves , collectively remained so racist when it comes to their interactions with Black people ?
The video of George Floyd ’ s public lynching and Tou Thao ’ s back turned toward Floyd as he died calling out his mother ’ s name has opened up an unavoidable dialogue on anti-Black racism , a debate with a long history .
This is a history that is punctuated by an intersectional history of colonialism , anti-colonial violence , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ myth .
This is a history of racialization predicated upon the old colonial principles of “ divide and rule , ” placing Asian Americans “ above ” African Americans in terms of class , power , wealth , access and education .
Thao ’ s complicity represents an Asian American bystander syndrome that has resulted from deep-seeded anti-Black conditioning mixed with the fear of losing Asian Americans ’ alignment with whiteness as being honorary whites .
It is this complicity-fueling syndrome that needs to be understood and disrupted .
Let ’ s face @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a symptom of imagined power and superiority .
This complicity is a struggle to be a part of the myth of the American dream , an impossible dream to become ideologically white .
To live like the Dick and Jane fantasy coupled with the history of colonialism and colorism is the closest route to entering a world of power and access that whiteness ensures .
For instance , in the Enid Blyton stories like Noddy ( books that I grew up reading as a child in India in the early ‘ 70s ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ golliwog ” dolls , an anti-Black imagery .
These dolls “ were often rude , mischievous , elfin villains.
” Such images of anti-Blackness , along with Bollywood ’ s representations of anti-Blackness , which Dhruva Balram calls an “ endemic problem , ” re-instilled already discriminatory practices against the Dalits — or what Gandhi called the “ untouchables ” — in India , which continues to this day .
For that matter , Blyton ’ s The Famous Five series , which is set in the U.K. , was not that different @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and Jane series set in the U.S. where the white middle class is glorified .
This is the imagination of class privilege , a privilege that the model minority class of Asians coming to the U.S. post-1965 thought was their ticket to the American Dream .
Beyond the world of colonial literary imaginations , the imagination of whiteness as simply being “ superior ” to being Brown or Black , and its relationship to power and desirability , is also a result of the presence of U.S. imperialism in Japan , South Korea @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forcefully contributed to anti-Blackness in the Asian psyche .
In many of the fairly homogenized Asian countries like Japan , the Philippines , South Korea and Vietnam , the presence of U.S. Military bases served as the first contact with Blackness .
While African American men occupied positions of power as American soldiers , Channelle Russell in “ Blackness and Japan ” also asserts how “ they were also subjected to both the prejudice of racially-segregated policy and wide-spread colorist notions concerning darker skin in Japan .
For example , during the period @ @ @ @ @ @ @ black soldiers to be referred to as kurumbo , a highly-derogatory Japanese racial slur for black.
” In 2017 , there was a photography exhibit by photographer Yu Huiping at the Hubei Provincial Museum in Wuhan titled “ This Is Africa.
” In this exhibit , images of wild African animals were juxtaposed with Black African people .
After complaints were filed by Africans ( including students living in China ) that the display was racist , the exhibition was removed .
While it would be too reductionist to claim that everyone belonging @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by anti-Blackness , it is fair to assert that most Asian/Asian Americans have been brought up with some notion of colorism and casteism , whether they belong to the working class or hold the model minority status .
For instance , the South Asians who arrived in the U.S. as a result of the 1965 Immigration Act were primarily part of the intellectual and professional class .
Yet their educated backgrounds did little to dismantle their deeply rooted ideas of anti-Blackness stemming from casteist notions of social stratifications and colonial ideas of anti-Blackness @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the form of what Mai Der Vang calls “ colonized loyalty ” – the “ subservience and colonized loyalty to white people.
” This “ colonized loyalty ” is coupled with a mindset of acceptance and hierarchy based on colorism and exclusions based on one ’ s skin color .
The “ model minorities ” of the post-1965 generation were perceived as distinctly different from the South Asians in 1911 .
The 1911 U.S. Immigration Commission identified South Asians as the “ least desirable race of immigrants thus far admitted to the United @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
In 1907 the riots in Bellingham , Washington , led by white working-class men terrorized the South Asian migrant workers and within 10 days of the riots they were successful in driving the entire South Asian population out of the city .
Yet , there is a failure to understand how the forces of racial capitalism , neoliberalism , white supremacy and a history of state violence — all taken together — unite Asian Americans and Black people much more than they divide .
This routine turning away by Asian Americans — @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their imaginary world of whiteness – comes out of many Asian Americans ’ embrace of a false narrative of assimilation built on layered denials : Denials about racial discrimination and structural racism in the schools and their workplaces .
Denials that their ( sub ) conscious preferences for lighter complexions is a result of deep-seated anti-Blackness .
Denials about hate crimes and attacks on civil liberties post-9/11 ( that did not spare South Asians from being put into detentions , being deported and even being killed ) .
Denials that Asian Americans are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is not that long ago that Srinivas Kuchibhotla , an Indian engineer , was killed by white supremacist Adam Purinton .
Prior to that , in 2006 , a Hmong man , Fong Lee , was shot eight times by a white Minneapolis police officer , Jason Andersen .
Andersen claimed Lee was armed and had motioned to shoot him .
Andersen was later indicted by a federal grand jury on a criminal civil rights charge .
Much to the disappointment of Lee ’ s family , Andersen was exonerated in 2009 by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lawsuit brought by Lee ’ s family .
While Youa Vang , mother of Fong Lee does not know Floyd ’ s family , she understands their pain .
In her shared grief and solidarity and while speaking in her native Hmong , Vang sobbed and said , “ I want the family to know that I ’ ll grieve with them , I sympathize with them , and I ’ m sending them love.
” This was no easy task , and yet this public acknowledgment is the beginning of a postponed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to end anti-Black violence .
This narrative of healing and addressing anti-Blackness , however , may also be gendered .
Mai Der Vang , in her insightful essay , “ To Hmong Americans , On Racial Justice and Patriarchy ” claims : The relationship here between gendered colonialism , anti-Blackness and racism is deeply woven into the consciousness of many postcolonial subjects .
Many Asian Americans also think of themselves as “ honorary whites , ” based on their per capita income and occupational status .
Their almost nonexistent contact with other working-class @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) often prohibits them from understanding racial and economic disparities faced by these communities on a daily basis .
The Asian Americans who represent the “ model minority ” class are those whom Martin Luther King would have classified as mimicking what he called the “ white moderates.
” In his April 1963 “ Letter from Birmingham Jail , ” after King had been arrested for publicly protesting racial inequality , he described his disappointment with the white moderates .
When it comes to standing up for racial justice , Asian Americans are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lukewarm acceptance.
” They are the model minorities still standing on the fence of the racial justice movement while their children have forcefully joined the struggle to dismantle white supremacy and anti-Blackness .
Racial justice educator-activist Simran Jeet Singh , who was born and raised in San Antonio , Texas , says , “ What I am noticing now is young people saying that it is uncomfortable but we don ’ t have the luxury anymore to ignore [ anti-Blackness ] .
” Yet the creation of the model minority demographics was not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the forces of white supremacy to pit Asians against African Americans .
In the 1960s , white liberals purposefully weaponized and promoted the model minority stereotype to stifle Black social movements .
Ellen Wu in The Color of Success : Asian Americans and the Origins of the Model Minority argues how Asian Americans were used against other communities of color , especially African Americans , to prove that meritocracy and equal opportunity when successfully used are a road map to move away from oppressive conditions .
Just like white moderates , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the “ model minority ” myth are much less likely to protest .
They are taught that participating in protests are disruptive , disrespectful , and an act of defiance .
Most are apprehensive of riots and many fear their properties will be damaged .
Most have embraced the idea that it is not protests but hard work that will be the ticket to their assimilation into white America .
Besides , their “ unwavering faith in the government and liberal democracy as opposed to political protests were the keys to overcoming racial @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” noted Wu .
Yet the truth is all Asian Americans are not model minorities .
As The New York Times reported , “ Hmong-Americans do not fit cleanly into the country ’ s broad racial categories .
Because so many came as impoverished refugees , they are more likely to be poor than many other Asian immigrants from places like China and India who often have specialized degrees.
” Also , Kabzuag Vaj , a Hmong American and the founder of Freedom Inc. , a nonprofit aiming to end violence toward @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , understands the nuanced nature of anti-Blackness among Asians based on class .
Vaj , who herself came to the United States as a refugee , explains how the U.S. resettled Southeast Asian refugees ( following the Vietnam War ) in poorly funded urban areas with deprived infrastructures where Black and Brown communities had to exist side by side .
“ When you are put into this situation , and you live amongst other poor black and brown folks with very little resources , there is that piece of strain between communities that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Vaj said .
“ There isn ’ t enough for all of you.
” Here , both anti-Black and anti-Asian racism along with poverty plays a role in triggering various conflicts based on interlocking systems of oppression .
For the Twin Cities ’ Hmong community , at least for now , as reported by NPR ’ s Ashley Westerman and Noel King , this “ debate over anti-Blackness is mostly being talked about behind closed doors.
” Poet-activist Ed Bok Lee , a resident of Twin Cities for decades , tells Westerman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Asian American and you are anti-black , it ’ s probably because you see black people through a white hegemonic lens of racism , colonial-style racism .
For Asian Americans to grapple with this moment will involve opening up a lot of personal and historical trauma of racism and colonialism.
” In the midst of this private or public reckoning , there are , however , Asian-American-Black solidarity movements actively emerging since 2014 .
In the wake of Michael Brown ’ s shooting in 2014 , Emma Chin recalled Vincent Chin ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , 1982 , and commented that “ more than three decades after Vincent Chin ’ s death , the decision not to indict Darren Wilson reminds us that our justice system is still broken.
” While Chin ’ s death had galvanized the Asian diaspora in 1982 , we are witnessing another such galvanizing moment in 2020 since the COVID-19 breakout and George Floyd ’ s lynching and the rise in hate crimes against the Asian diaspora .
There is a recognition that racial violence and xenophobia are intersectional .
“ We can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ happened 30 years ago without conceptualizing how anti-Asian hate is connected to this constant drumbeat of violence against Black , brown and Indigenous people , ” she said .
“ Justice isn ’ t ‘ Just Us ’ , ” said Renee Tajima-Peña , director of the Oscar-nominated documentary , Who Killed Vincent Chin ?
and producer of the recent PBS film series “ Asian Americans.
” Calls for solidarity from Black comrades led to the formation of # AsiansForBlackLives , a grassroots organization with radical Asian American activists in the Bay area @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Lives calls for “ special attention to interrupting the anti-blackness that lives in the American shadow.
” They ask , “ how are we complicit in upholding anti-blackness and the white supremacy that feeds it ?
Are we willing to interrupt our complicity in order to move in the rhythm of justice ?
” Many young Asian Americans like Korean-American Joyce Kang have joined the various solidarity movements to address anti-Black racisms .
For instance , Kang ’ s letter addressed to “ Mom , Dad , Uncle , Auntie , Grandfather , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to end Asian American complicity .
While this letter was written after Philando Castile ’ s shooting in Minneapolis in 2016 , it has now been rewritten to include George Floyd ’ s death .
Can the uprisings in the wake of George Floyd ’ s murder be the beginning of interracial solidarity and healing between Black America and Asian Americans ?
Are Asian Americans , in the words of Soya Jung , ready to unleash the “ model minority mutiny ?
” Are Asian Americans finally ready to confront what Vijay Iyer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ?
” After all , without the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 , a direct gain of the Civil Rights Movement , most of us would not be here .
After all , only in solidarity between and within communities of color , remains our only chance to fight against the brutal and insidious forces of racism , white supremacy and racial capitalism .
After all , racism obeys no boundaries .
After all , we still have Ruhel Islam .
Islam ’ s Bangladeshi Indian restaurant in Minneapolis , Gandhi Mahal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ protest against Floyd .
“ Let my building burn , ” but “ [ j ] ustice needs to be served.
” As police fired tear gas into crowds , Islam ’ s restaurant became a refuge for the injured .
After all , Islam reminds us that our survival is dependent on interracial solidarity , not anti-Black racism .
“ We can rebuild a building , but we can not rebuild a human .
”

In solidarity, between and within communities of color, lies our chance to fight against the insidious forces of racism.
“Capitalism requires inequality and racism enshrines it.” —Ruth Wilson Gilmore
In the United States, racism against Asian Americans, whether in a public rally, in the public space or in the classroom, has become routine.
In March 2020 Donald Trump called the coronavirus “Chinese Virus.” On June 20, 2020, at an anemically attended rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Trump named the deadly coronavirus “Kung Flu.” The same week a white California professor, Matthew Hubbard, was put on leave after he asked a Vietnamese student to change her name. The student’s name is Phuc Bui Diem Nguyen. In Vietnamese “Phuc” means endearment and beauty. The professor said that in English her name sounded like “F-ck boy” and the student needed to “understand” that her name has “an offensive sound” in his English language.
Then on June 21, 2020, an Indian restaurant owned by a Sikh family was vandalized by white supremacists in downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico. When the Sikh owner, Bajit Singh, walked into his restaurant, India Palace, he found “racial slurs graffitied all over the wall”: “White Power,” “Trump 2020,” “Go home.” The Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and the New York-based Sikh Coalition also condemned the attack. Ibrahim Hooper, CAIR’s national communications director named this vandalism a “hate attack” and said how such an attack “once again demonstrates that growing white supremacy, xenophobia, Islamophobia and racism target every minority community and must be challenged by people of all races, faiths and backgrounds.”
This is not the first time Sikhs have been attacked by white supremacy groups. Anti-Sikh hatred has been on the rise following Trump’s election, but the violence against Sikhs has always existed in the U.S.
Racialized violence in the U.S. against Asians is not new. While racism has existed since the first major wave of Asians arrived as early as 1850s, racialized violence against Asian Americans comes in waves and is expected to rise as we get closer to the U.S. elections in November 2020. Historians are predicting that something akin to the racial violence known as the “Red Summer” that erupted in 1919 may be repeated. The eruption of violence in 1919 was directed solely at African Americans. This time, however, this racial violence may also be directed against Asian Americans, as we have already begun to see the rise in racist attacks associated with the scapegoating of Asians since the arrival of COVID-19 in the U.S.
While there is much written about the insidious and brutal forces of everyday white supremacy in the U.S. and how the Asian American diaspora has experienced many forms of exclusion (as portrayed in the most recent PBS documentary on Asian Americans), one question still remains. Why have Asians/Asian-Americans, a minority group themselves, collectively remained so racist when it comes to their interactions with Black people?
This is a history of racialization predicated upon the old colonial principles of “divide and rule,” placing Asian Americans “above” African Americans in terms of class, power, wealth, access and education.
The video of George Floyd’s public lynching and Tou Thao’s back turned toward Floyd as he died calling out his mother’s name has opened up an unavoidable dialogue on anti-Black racism, a debate with a long history. This is a history that is punctuated by an intersectional history of colonialism, anti-colonial violence, casteism, colorism and the model minority myth. This is a history of racialization predicated upon the old colonial principles of “divide and rule,” placing Asian Americans “above” African Americans in terms of class, power, wealth, access and education.
Thao’s complicity represents an Asian American bystander syndrome that has resulted from deep-seeded anti-Black conditioning mixed with the fear of losing Asian Americans’ alignment with whiteness as being honorary whites. It is this complicity-fueling syndrome that needs to be understood and disrupted.
Let’s face it. This complicity against Blackness is a symptom of imagined power and superiority. This complicity is a struggle to be a part of the myth of the American dream, an impossible dream to become ideologically white. To live like the Dick and Jane fantasy coupled with the history of colonialism and colorism is the closest route to entering a world of power and access that whiteness ensures.
For instance, in the Enid Blyton stories like Noddy (books that I grew up reading as a child in India in the early ‘70s), there is the presence of “golliwog” dolls, an anti-Black imagery. These dolls “were often rude, mischievous, elfin villains.” Such images of anti-Blackness, along with Bollywood’s representations of anti-Blackness, which Dhruva Balram calls an “endemic problem,” re-instilled already discriminatory practices against the Dalits — or what Gandhi called the “Harijans” — in India, which continues to this day. For that matter, Blyton’s The Famous Five series, which is set in the U.K., was not that different from William S. Gray’s Dick and Jane series set in the U.S. where the white middle class is glorified. This is the imagination of class privilege, a privilege that the model minority class of Asians coming to the U.S. post-1965 thought was their ticket to the American Dream.
Beyond the world of colonial literary imaginations, the imagination of whiteness as simply being “superior” to being Brown or Black, and its relationship to power and desirability, is also a result of the presence of U.S. imperialism in Japan, South Korea, the Philippines and Vietnam. Militarization forcefully contributed to anti-Blackness in the Asian psyche. In many of the fairly homogenized Asian countries like Japan, the Philippines, South Korea and Vietnam, the presence of U.S. Military bases served as the first contact with Blackness. While African American men occupied positions of power as American soldiers, Channelle Russell in “Blackness and Japan” also asserts how “they were also subjected to both the prejudice of racially-segregated policy and wide-spread colorist notions concerning darker skin in Japan. For example, during the period of occupation, it was commonplace for black soldiers to be referred to as kurumbo, a highly-derogatory Japanese racial slur for black.”
The forces of racial capitalism, neoliberalism, white supremacy and a history of state violence — all taken together — unite Asian Americans and Black people much more than they divide.
In 2017, there was a photography exhibit by photographer Yu Huiping at the Hubei Provincial Museum in Wuhan titled “This Is Africa.” In this exhibit, images of wild African animals were juxtaposed with Black African people. After complaints were filed by Africans (including students living in China) that the display was racist, the exhibition was removed.
While it would be too reductionist to claim that everyone belonging to the Asian American disapora is affected by anti-Blackness, it is fair to assert that most Asian/Asian Americans have been brought up with some notion of colorism and casteism, whether they belong to the working class or hold the model minority status.
For instance, the South Asians who arrived in the U.S. as a result of the 1965 Immigration Act were primarily part of the intellectual and professional class. Yet their educated backgrounds did little to dismantle their deeply rooted ideas of anti-Blackness stemming from casteist notions of social stratifications and colonial ideas of anti-Blackness. This is Asian American anti-Blackness in the form of what Mai Der Vang calls “colonized loyalty” – the “subservience and colonized loyalty to white people.” This “colonized loyalty” is coupled with a mindset of acceptance and hierarchy based on colorism and exclusions based on one’s skin color.
The “model minorities” of the post-1965 generation were perceived as distinctly different from the South Asians in 1911. The 1911 U.S. Immigration Commission identified South Asians as the “least desirable race of immigrants thus far admitted to the United States” according to historian Erika Lee. In 1907 the riots in Bellingham, Washington, led by white working-class men terrorized the South Asian migrant workers and within 10 days of the riots they were successful in driving the entire South Asian population out of the city.
Yet, there is a failure to understand how the forces of racial capitalism, neoliberalism, white supremacy and a history of state violence — all taken together — unite Asian Americans and Black people much more than they divide.
In the 1960s, white liberals purposefully weaponized and promoted the model minority stereotype to stifle Black social movements.
This routine turning away by Asian Americans — especially the model minority bourgeoisie living in their imaginary world of whiteness – comes out of many Asian Americans’ embrace of a false narrative of assimilation built on layered denials: Denials about racial discrimination and structural racism in the schools and their workplaces. Denials that their (sub)conscious preferences for lighter complexions is a result of deep-seated anti-Blackness. Denials about hate crimes and attacks on civil liberties post-9/11 (that did not spare South Asians from being put into detentions, being deported and even being killed). Denials that Asian Americans are also victims of police brutality.
It is not that long ago that Srinivas Kuchibhotla, an Indian engineer, was killed by white supremacist Adam Purinton. Prior to that, in 2006, a Hmong man, Fong Lee, was shot eight times by a white Minneapolis police officer, Jason Andersen. Andersen claimed Lee was armed and had motioned to shoot him. Andersen was later indicted by a federal grand jury on a criminal civil rights charge. Much to the disappointment of Lee’s family, Andersen was exonerated in 2009 by a jury in a federal wrongful death lawsuit brought by Lee’s family.
While Youa Vang, mother of Fong Lee does not know Floyd’s family, she understands their pain. In her shared grief and solidarity and while speaking in her native Hmong, Vang sobbed and said, “I want the family to know that I’ll grieve with them, I sympathize with them, and I’m sending them love.” This was no easy task, and yet this public acknowledgment is the beginning of a postponed narrative of healing, and a call to end anti-Black violence.
This narrative of healing and addressing anti-Blackness, however, may also be gendered. Mai Der Vang, in her insightful essay, “To Hmong Americans, On Racial Justice and Patriarchy” claims:
As a Hmong woman born and raised in this country, I have often found that this particular type of “Hmong man” also embodies patriotic pro-assimilationist tendencies coupled with a superficial belief in the American Dream. In other words, he is someone who might seek social validation from the mainstream. Or he might be someone who fulfills too easily the lackey role, sometimes unbeknownst to himself. Or worse, he can be someone who fails to or is unable to interrogate and dismantle the parts of his own culture that have long granted him far too much privilege over women.
The relationship here between gendered colonialism, anti-Blackness and racism is deeply woven into the consciousness of many postcolonial subjects. Many Asian Americans also think of themselves as “honorary whites,” based on their per capita income and occupational status. Their almost nonexistent contact with other working-class communities of color (including their own) often prohibits them from understanding racial and economic disparities faced by these communities on a daily basis.
The Asian Americans who represent the “model minority” class are those whom Martin Luther King would have classified as mimicking what he called the “white moderates.” In his April 1963 “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” after King had been arrested for publicly protesting racial inequality, he described his disappointment with the white moderates.
. . . who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; . . . Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
When it comes to standing up for racial justice, Asian Americans are the honorary white moderates with their “lukewarm acceptance.” They are the model minorities still standing on the fence of the racial justice movement while their children have forcefully joined the struggle to dismantle white supremacy and anti-Blackness. Racial justice educator-activist Simran Jeet Singh, who was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas, says, “What I am noticing now is young people saying that it is uncomfortable but we don’t have the luxury anymore to ignore [anti-Blackness].” Yet the creation of the model minority demographics was not an accident, but a strategy promoted by the forces of white supremacy to pit Asians against African Americans.
In the 1960s, white liberals purposefully weaponized and promoted the model minority stereotype to stifle Black social movements. Ellen Wu in The Color of Success: Asian Americans and the Origins of the Model Minority argues how Asian Americans were used against other communities of color, especially African Americans, to prove that meritocracy and equal opportunity when successfully used are a road map to move away from oppressive conditions.
Solidarity between and within communities of color remains our only chance to fight against the brutal and insidious forces of racism, white supremacy and racial capitalism.
Just like white moderates, the Asian Americans with opportunities who have embraced the “model minority” myth are much less likely to protest. They are taught that participating in protests are disruptive, disrespectful, and an act of defiance. Most are apprehensive of riots and many fear their properties will be damaged. Most have embraced the idea that it is not protests but hard work that will be the ticket to their assimilation into white America. Besides, their “unwavering faith in the government and liberal democracy as opposed to political protests were the keys to overcoming racial barriers as well as achieving full citizenship,” noted Wu.
Yet the truth is all Asian Americans are not model minorities.
As The New York Times reported, “Hmong-Americans do not fit cleanly into the country’s broad racial categories. Because so many came as impoverished refugees, they are more likely to be poor than many other Asian immigrants from places like China and India who often have specialized degrees.” Also, Kabzuag Vaj, a Hmong American and the founder of Freedom Inc., a nonprofit aiming to end violence toward minorities, women and the LGBTQ community, understands the nuanced nature of anti-Blackness among Asians based on class.
Vaj, who herself came to the United States as a refugee, explains how the U.S. resettled Southeast Asian refugees (following the Vietnam War) in poorly funded urban areas with deprived infrastructures where Black and Brown communities had to exist side by side. “When you are put into this situation, and you live amongst other poor black and brown folks with very little resources, there is that piece of strain between communities that must fight for the same resources,” Vaj said. “There isn’t enough for all of you.”
Here, both anti-Black and anti-Asian racism along with poverty plays a role in triggering various conflicts based on interlocking systems of oppression. For the Twin Cities’ Hmong community, at least for now, as reported by NPR’s Ashley Westerman and Noel King, this “debate over anti-Blackness is mostly being talked about behind closed doors.”
Poet-activist Ed Bok Lee, a resident of Twin Cities for decades, tells Westerman and King that “If you are Asian American and you are anti-black, it’s probably because you see black people through a white hegemonic lens of racism, colonial-style racism. For Asian Americans to grapple with this moment will involve opening up a lot of personal and historical trauma of racism and colonialism.”
In the midst of this private or public reckoning, there are, however, Asian-American-Black solidarity movements actively emerging since 2014. In the wake of Michael Brown’s shooting in 2014, Emma Chin recalled Vincent Chin’s brutal death by beating on June 23, 1982, and commented that “more than three decades after Vincent Chin’s death, the decision not to indict Darren Wilson reminds us that our justice system is still broken.” While Chin’s death had galvanized the Asian diaspora in 1982, we are witnessing another such galvanizing moment in 2020 since the COVID-19 breakout and George Floyd’s lynching and the rise in hate crimes against the Asian diaspora.
There is a recognition that racial violence and xenophobia are intersectional. “We can’t keep on recalling something that happened 30 years ago without conceptualizing how anti-Asian hate is connected to this constant drumbeat of violence against Black, brown and Indigenous people,” she said. “Justice isn’t ‘Just Us’,” said Renee Tajima-Peña, director of the Oscar-nominated documentary, Who Killed Vincent Chin? and producer of the recent PBS film series “Asian Americans.”
Calls for solidarity from Black comrades led to the formation of #AsiansForBlackLives, a grassroots organization with radical Asian American activists in the Bay area. Similarly, Seattle Asians for Black Lives calls for “special attention to interrupting the anti-blackness that lives in the American shadow.” They ask, “how are we complicit in upholding anti-blackness and the white supremacy that feeds it? Are we willing to interrupt our complicity in order to move in the rhythm of justice?”
Many young Asian Americans like Korean-American Joyce Kang have joined the various solidarity movements to address anti-Black racisms. For instance, Kang’s letter addressed to “Mom, Dad, Uncle, Auntie, Grandfather, Grandmother, Family” is a call to end Asian American complicity. While this letter was written after Philando Castile’s shooting in Minneapolis in 2016, it has now been rewritten to include George Floyd’s death.
Can the uprisings in the wake of George Floyd’s murder be the beginning of interracial solidarity and healing between Black America and Asian Americans? Are Asian Americans, in the words of Soya Jung, ready to unleash the “model minority mutiny?” Are Asian Americans finally ready to confront what Vijay Iyer calls our “complicity with their excess?”
After all, without the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965, a direct gain of the Civil Rights Movement, most of us would not be here.
After all, only in solidarity between and within communities of color, remains our only chance to fight against the brutal and insidious forces of racism, white supremacy and racial capitalism.
After all, racism obeys no boundaries.
After all, we still have Ruhel Islam. Islam’s Bangladeshi Indian restaurant in Minneapolis, Gandhi Mahal, burned and yet Islam supported the protest against Floyd. “Let my building burn,” but “[j]ustice needs to be served.”
As police fired tear gas into crowds, Islam’s restaurant became a refuge for the injured.
After all, Islam reminds us that our survival is dependent on interracial solidarity, not anti-Black racism. “We can rebuild a building, but we cannot rebuild a human.”
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