Archive for February 2015

My tweets on that racist football fan video (with RapGenius annotations, and Johnny Cash).

Last night I saw a video where a bunch of racist football fans stopped a black man getting onto a train. I then went onto Twitter and wrote a series of tweets giving my thoughts on the incident. I didn’t mention the club whom the fans supported as I didn’t think that this was a phenomenon particular to their club.

I then received answers from some people who agreed with me, and some who didn’t, which is after all the nature of Twitter. Some people thought I was saying that this video should not be condemned, and so I thought I should write a short note clarifying my tweets.

So I’m going to do the following, which might seem a bit of an odd approach, but I am doing it mainly because I don’t have time to write a full new article on this (deadlines etc etc).

First I will republish the tweets I wrote. Then I will briefly annotate them, RapGenius style, explaining further what I meant by them. Then I will finish up with some music from Johnny Cash.

I hope that makes sense, and that you’re not bored yet. Right – here goes.

My tweets were as follows:

1. Hm. Many people who will express revulsion at that racist football fan video are just as unpleasant in far subtler and more dangerous ways.

(Explanation: If you condemned that video, awesome. My wider point was that there are a lot of people who have an eye for a conveniently easy fight. The same people who will condemn video of these fans will continue to laugh along with people who make jokes about gas chambers. They are the same people who will embrace bigoted individuals if they can bring some kind of advantage to their club, or simply if they are just fun to hang out with. It is these hypocrites who were the subject of this tweet.)  

2. Extreme, overt, drunken racism by fans is only the symptom of attitudes that may be more commonplace that people would like to admit.

(Explanation: The black man last night faced racism in a very intimidating form. What is particularly worrying is that those racists felt comfortable enough to express those views at such volume and with such confidence, just like that racist who threw the bananas at Dani Alves. We will never know how many passive onlookers silently agreed with their reprehensible views. At such times, the club’s reaction is vital, and to Chelsea’s credit they have acted swiftly in response to this matter.)  

3. The outraged condemnation of drunken racist football fans, without further examination of the underlying issues, is nothing but cathartic.

(Explanation: Yes, you’re right to be angry, absolutely. Let’s also be vigilant about other forms of racial discrimination within the game, and not be quick to dismiss them when they arise. If you are already vigilant, then this tweet was not aimed at you.) 

4. The average racist these days is far, far smarter than a football fan on an away day who gets hammered and abuses a random black person.

(Explanation: The one redeeming feature of those football fans on the train is that they were stupid and so we know exactly what they thought. Again, I was merely saying: let’s stay vigilant. There’s a lot of anti-immigrant sentiment out there at the moment – just look at UK politics. If you’re already vigilant, then that is awesome – you don’t have to duck, this tweet was not aimed at you.)

5. The drunken racist football fan on the evening train is the least dangerous racist of all since you know exactly where you stand with them.

(Explanation: This isn’t entirely accurate as a racist frothing abuse in your face can be pretty intimidating, particularly if they are bigger than you or if there are more than you or if there is nowhere to run or if they are quicker than you. Those ones are pretty scary but they’re thankfully not as commonplace as they have been. So they are physically dangerous, yes. I guess I have just become a little bit desensitised to their excesses. At least, because they make their threat so obvious, I know what I am dealing with.)  

6. The most dangerous racists of all are those who will keep you conveniently at arm’s length for years. They are the ones I worry about.

(Explanation: These are often the really scary ones – the ones who discriminate against you in the workplace, the ones who pass discriminatory laws, the ones who practice what Ta-Nehisi Coates has referred to as “elegant racism”. They are the ones who are clever enough to marginalise you without telling you that it’s down to your race, and it’s only when you look back over the accumulated evidence that you realise that’s what it was. A good friend has a successful claim at an employment tribunal to show for it.)

7. As someone who has experienced both verbal and physical racist abuse on the street, I am not belittling what happened tonight.

(Explanation: No, I’m really not. I hope that poor guy was not too shaken this morning.)

8. I am merely saying: let us be clear. Racism does not simply arise from nowhere. It is mould that has been allowed to fester too long.

(Explana – actually no I think this one is pretty clear.)

9. So no, I’m not going to get on my high horse about the drunken racist fans, and I would advise you to be very very wary of anyone who does.

(Explanation: I am as angry about this as you presumably are. Just watch out for the people who are up in arms about this video, but then go back to their own bigoted ways next week. Trust me, they’re out there.)

10. *end transmission*

(Explanation: I always give some kind of sign-off when I have finished an extended series of tweets, normally when my thumb gets tired, so that anyone who has tuned out in the process of my stream of conscious knows that they can have the timeline back.)

I will now send this article to everyone who wrote to me last night asking for further clarification of my thoughts. And I would like to thank Mashable for putting all of these tweets in one place so that their readers could review them for themselves. Have a great day, all.

(And PS – if it does turn out that these tweets were indeed aimed at you, then they should burn, burn, burn, like the ring of fire, the ring of fire.)







God bless Kanye West, and God bless Ida B. Wells.

Last week, Kanye West got on stage at the Grammys and, in his own words, acted like “an asshole”. This weekend, I was a guest on the BBC World Service, looking back at the week’s news. One of the items for discussion was the Equal Justice Initiative’s report on lynching in America’s Southern states. This made me think in turn of Ida B. Wells, whose pioneering and fearless research in this area cannot be praised enough; and finally, at one profoundly historical level, it made me thank God for the asshole that Kanye has become.

We will return to Kanye West very soon; but, for now, we should go back to the formidable Ida B. Wells. In 1892, following the murder of three of her friends, she began a vigorous investigation of their deaths and the social circumstances which enabled them. She interrogated a world where black boys and men were routinely taken out in the street, tortured and killed, very often in broad daylight. This happened under the pretext that they had raped white women: most commonly, though, it seems that their true offence was to have had consensual sexual relations with those women. On one occasion, in 1891, one black man – Will Lewis, of Tullahoma – was taken from jail by a mob and hung, for the apparent crime of drunken rudeness to his white superiors. Black girls and women were not remotely spared either, with one Mildrey Brown hung in 1892 “on the circumstantial evidence she had poisoned a white infant”. Well’s resulting publication, “Southern Horrors: Lynch Law In All Its Phases”, is a seminal work, and simultaneously a daunting read. Yet so audacious was Wells in her efforts that, at one point, I found myself smiling with glee.

I began to imagine the faces of those everyday white supremacists, so complacent and comfortable in their racial tyranny over the South, if they could have seen Kanye preparing to take the stage at the Grammys. Specifically, I imagined the faces of the editorial team of the Memphis Evening Scimitar. On June 4 1892, they wrote that:

“The chief cause of trouble between the races in the South is the Negro’s lack of manners. In the state of slavery he learned politeness from association with white people, who took pain to teach him. Since the emancipation came and the tie of mutual interest and regard between master and servant was broken, the Negro has drifted away into a state which is neither freedom nor bondage…he has taken up the idea that boorish insolence is independence, and the exercise of a decent degree of breeding toward white people is identical with servile submission….there are many Negroes who use every opportunity to make themselves offensive, particularly when they think it can be done with impunity.” (My italics.)

As I read this I thought of Kanye mounting those steps, I thought of these racists watching him, and as I sat at my kitchen table I allowed myself a quietly maniacal chuckle.  After all, if these editors could have created an algorithm that would have produced their worst nightmare, then it is pretty safe to say that it would have produced someone like Kanye West. (In fact, in the quoted paragraph above, they virtually prophesied his emergence.) Kanye does not even have the good grace to be humble about his talents. He lacks manners; he is frequently impolite; he is rude, boorish, offensive, intemperate, obstreperous and vulgar. And, as I read these words from 1892, I absolutely loved him for it.  Kanye is critically acclaimed, he is independently wealthy, he has the ear of millions whenever he opens that mouth of his, that awful goddamn mouth – in short, he is everything that the slavers feared the day they reluctantly unlocked that final yoke.

Towards the end of her magnificent paper, Wells wrote that  “the more the Afro-American yields and begs, the more he has to do so, the more he is insulted, outraged and lynched.” There is no chance of Kanye ever yielding and begging, and that is thanks in very large part to the extraordinary efforts of Wells, who made possible an America in which a black person could be so free, so bold, brash and unrestrained.

And so I find that there are two contexts in which I view what Kanye did at the Grammys, when he went onstage to tell Beck, the winner of the Best Album award, that Beyoncé would have been a more deserving recipient.  The first context was immediate, in which I rolled my eyes and thought “Kanye, for God’s sake, you’ve been an ass yet again: you’ve disrespected and possibly ruined someone’s big day, a moment which may be the culmination of their career as an artist, let it go.” The second context is historical: and here I watch as the editors of the Memphis Evening Scimitar look helplessly into the future, a world featuring the unapologetic arrogance of Kanye, an uppity Negro the type of which they would gladly have seen dragged out and butchered.  And, in that context, I howl with laughter: and I think, God bless you Kanye West, and God bless you Ida B. Wells.