IT HAS BEEN called a pandemic within a pandemic. America has been hit by a double whammy—Covid-19, which has claimed over 1.10 lakh lives, and racism, the virus that has infected it for more than 400 years.
Racism in America goes back to the original sin of slavery, and in 2020, it has been perpetuated by the knee of a white police officer which was pressed against the neck of a fallen, unarmed, handcuffed black man. The knee stayed on the victim’s neck, while three other officers watched—for eight minutes and forty-six seconds—until the life oozed out of George Floyd, whose last words were, “I can’t breathe.”
Racism is not new. The only difference now is that it is getting documented. This modern-day lynching was recorded by bystanders on their phone cameras, and the resultant horrific video became the proverbial match to a powder keg, shocking people of all colours and faiths.
George Floyd’s last words—“I can’t breathe”—have become the slogan of millions of protesters. For the past two weeks, people have come together to protest police brutality. The protests have spilled over to a 100 cities in all 50 states, even amid the pandemic. What has been noteworthy is the turnout across racial, gender and age barriers, and the support that has been ignited in many countries across the world.
The question is, where do the Indian-Americans fit into this larger picture?
They themselves have been objects of racism, starting with discrimination against ‘Hindoos’ a hundred years ago to the immigration biases of the 1960s to the Dotbuster incidents in the 1980s to many other hate crimes even now. But all this fades in comparison with the systemic racism against black people for centuries. The country has failed them in social and economic equality, and criminal justice.
Vanita Gupta, president and CEO of The Leadership Conference, was the head of the US Department of Justice’s Civil Rights Division in the Obama administration. Speaking at a virtual town hall organised by Indiaspora, a community organisation, she said, “Mr Floyd’s death really reopened wounds that expose the degree to which there are two justice systems, two kinds of sets of communities in this country. The history of police brutality against black people in particular is a long and storied one.”
She felt that the current confluence of events was a turning point for the nation and there was a feeling that one cannot go back to normal. People are demanding more from their elected officials.
The Leadership Conference, which works on civil and human rights with over 220 organisations, has asked members of Congress for eight specific changes to address police violence.
Indian Americans like Senator Kamala Harris and Representative Ro Khanna are leading the charge in getting critical legislation passed in Congress. There are several Indian Americans who lead non-profit organisations, which are coming together to address issues of racism.
Some young Indian Americans also have individual reasons for marching in protest. For Gurpreet Kaur, a professor in health sciences at California State University, the current situation brought up terrible childhood memories of 1984, when Sikhs were persecuted in India. “Being a Sikh, I feel it is my moral obligation to stand up against systemic racism, abuse of power and the extrajudicial killing of civilians,” she said. “As Martin Luther King Jr. said, ‘In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends’.”
Said Rajeev Sigamoney, chair of film at the Pacific Union College in Napa, California: “We were not brought over to this country unwillingly and subjugated to lifetimes of slavery and systemic oppression. The difference this makes psychologically and to our starting points is immense. Just because you arrived with $50 in your pocket, does not mean you did not arrive with plenty of privilege. We can never fully understand their struggle and life experience.”
He and his wife, Brittnee, who is white, marched in the protests and have contributed to black organisations. As parents of a mixed-race child, they realise that the conversations have to start in childhood.
Also, Indian-American activists owe a debt to the black community, said Theresa Thanjan, who works with the New York Immigration Coalition. “As South Asian immigrants were often targeted after 9/11, we turned to black leaders and they came through in dramatic fashion,” she said. “I am moved to act because of the desire to show solidarity and also work with BLM (Black Lives Matter) to make important institutional changes.”
The race dialogue has continued on social media among Indian Americans: Instagram went dark for a day with posts of black tiles in solidarity; Indians on social media have posted and spoken about the inequities, and arranged virtual panels and gatherings.
But sometimes, it takes more than words. Rahul Dubey, a health care innovator in Washington DC, became an overnight hero when he opened up his home to 70-plus protesters who were being pursued by police in riot gear with tear gas, pepper spray and rubber bullets. He comforted and supported the protesters through the night, until the curfew ended in the wee hours of the morning. Yet, Dubey does not want to take credit. “I believe 95 per cent of the people I know would open that door,” he said. “The good has been set in motion. You will open the door now and you know that, and if you do not, you need to check yourself.”
Since the incident, Dubey has been inundated with calls, letters and offers of help. He tells anyone who will listen, “We have the brain trust of desis and we have the capital that we are sitting on, and we have inner-city problems. Let us find their teams, and let us lend out our star desi people. Let us make it a two-way street. If there is any subculture and any demographic that should be collaborating, it is ours.”
Melwani is a New York-based journalist who blogs at Lassi with Lavina.