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While rap is a rather recent form of music, it is in many ways the one that has struggled to catch up to the increasing openness of the world. This isn’t to say that rap hasn’t seen progress since the 90’s, and some mainstream artists have been proof of this, but even mainstream rappers often find themselves in the center of controversy, when it comes to their lyrics or their general activities. If mainstream rap is struggling to fit this more tolerant art demand, then we can only imagine what more underground rapper’s music can say, away from all the media scrutiny. The very nature of rap has been in lower class communities and minorities that often lack the education that leads to this more tolerant world, so it’s only logical that there be a lag in progress, but when it comes to masculinity, there almost seems to be an unwillingness to budge.

In Killa Roach’s “Ghora”, we see a very evident verse, Killa Roach’s, that encapsulates all the least tolerant and more unartistic aspect of rap, which do not represent the vast majority of the genre at all. The constant bragging about the ownership of guns, the repetitive aspect of it, the pride in knowledge of different gun types as well as the vocabulary that constantly brings up this behavior. In fact, I have the lyrics in front of me, and there is not a single line in this 14 line verse without something referring guns or shooting someone. Another aspect is the exposition of a machismo form of masculinity which tries so hard to correspond to an idea/concept of it rooted in violence. The use of homophobic slurs are only a part of it but just the general attitude projects an inability to source something truer, less conceptual of masculinity.

In contrast, but only slight contrast, is Blitzkrieg’s verse, which if you count off his lines, only about 3/4 encourage violence. Slight progress. But what changes significantly is the message around guns and violence. For him, the metaphorical aspect dominates. There’s a relation to reality which is vastly different. Killa Roach sees in rap an imitation of the legitimate and existing gang violence and gang discourse notably in the Bronx or O’Block for East Coast rap or Compton and Crenshaw for West Coast rap. Blitzkrieg - Chris Moore - sees the shift and the incompatibility of this kind of rhetoric and violence proning message, while still trying to convene to this violent masculinity, offering a weird double edge to his verse, with guns and violence at its center, but a slight deviation to promote something different about him.

As a South Californian, the image I have of the Deep South and the Red North is very clear. Intolerance, protectionism, xenophobia dominate my perception of these regions. Much of my readings, fictional, non fictional, bibliographical or historical, much of my film culture and general history and political knowledge have given me this perception of them. Sometimes, I forget that that is all I have of these regions: perception. No amount of research could make you fully understand the actual reasons for these preconceived notions than actually living in these areas. I think that this idea is similar to the one that inspired Badri Narayanan in his short essay. A Tamil city man going to a “redneck” white town is the perfect scenario that reveals many of these preconceived notion. But beyond this, this scenario also reveals to his students in Beauce a part of their ignorance, exemplified in this essay around their use of the word “tamoul”

I think an often unspoken aspect of immigration is how being introduced to the other teaches you more than anything else would about this other. Part of the concept of multiculturalism often unaccomplished by those in places that claim to be multicultural is the capacity for individuals to accept it as more than just a concept but an actual reality. In a country where pure multiculturalism has been established as something to aspire to, the ignorance of some in areas like St-George are a road block. Separate to policies on immigration, which are divisive even amongst those of similar political views, the simple fact that Badri Narayanan’s students were unable to explain the origin’s of what they considered to be a racial slur is symbolic of the lack of willingness of many to make an effort in understand the realities of multiculturalism.

As a franco-French early Gen Z kid, I had no choice but to grow up listening to old French rap. 1995, NTM Supreme, Hologram Lo’ and most of all, MC Solaar, were all founding figures of my musical childhood and teenage years. Another founding genre of my musical taste is American rap, it being probably my most listened genre with names like Lil Baby, Gunna, Future, Young Thug, K-Dot, Cole, Wayne, Tupac… From my learning and progressive timely understanding of these genres, I don’t believe they should even share the same name. To me, they are world’s apart: In the sound, the rhythm, the flow, the level of language, but most importantly, the message. While American rap has a much more loose, and much more « read between the lines » message, French rap is the polar opposite with a very « in your face » way of transmitting a song’s meaning. In addition to that, while American rap sprung out of America’s « hoods », notably Compton (had to mention the hometown) and the Bronx, French rap was « adopted » into its banlieues, such as St-Denis, with inspiration from America’s rap scene. Because of this, old French rap (not recents like Zola, Damso…) has an entirely different connotation as a genre than American and Canadian rap scene.

One of the discussion questions was « What kind of image does MC Solaar present of himself in relation to everyday violence and education, and how might it be in tension with the machismo or rebelliousness of his hip-hop sound? » In answer to this, I’ve read many of the discussion posts that saw a clear opposition between the scholarly lyrics and the hip-hop sounds. But what my perception at least of what French rap has served to do is to create this exact image, of the individual amongst the crowd, in opposition to American rap which is more an image of a crowd and crowd pleasing. I can clearly identify the beat as French rap as well because of the vibe I get, so even the first times listening to this song when I was only 10 or 11, it didn’t surprise the activist/studious nature of the lyrics.

In terms of how MC Solaar perceives the racism and violence in Paris, I think he takes a step aside, positioning himself as an observer of it, but paradoxically an observer of his own suffering. He can not avoid it because of its omnipresence but his lyrics give off a sense of narrative omniscience, while staying deeply personal. It reminds me of one of my favorite French rap songs, « Saleté de Rap » by Hologram Lo’ and Georgio, which I’ve always believed was heavily inspired by Lève toi et Rap, maybe the name gives the connection away. In Saleté de Rap, the rappers talk about society’s problems around precarity, lack of motivation, misogyny and general life in banlieue, but they do so in a way that always implicates people around them, as observers. In a way, French rap promotes seriousness and sobriety much more than the more popular American rap, which is why I don’t think there really exists a disconnect between Solaar’s lyrics and his beat.

“ To be queer and diaspora is to be of/against the future simultaneously ” I find this line of Namazie’s poem both very poetic but also something that can be critiqued. The intentions of the line can be easily interpreted. Queerness has been, notably in Iran, a breaking off from the symbolism of the past and the image that the world has of it and it in Iran. With the diaspora representing the perpetuation of cultural tradition and values, this line represents how queerness is a symbol of a general society’s vision of the future. There’s a conflict between being tradition driven and future drive that queerness seeks to reconcile.

However, this comes with the implication that queerness is something that has only recently emerged, as in some sort of concept. It takes away from its true history which outlasts any current civilization, including Persian. Diaspora represents a vision of a homeland, but the danger is to be too selective of what is imported into the vision, leaving many aspects of representation unchecked, including queerness. Queers in many regions of the world lack a source of their identity to find representation in and so struggle to reconcile their identity with the history of their culture. This is what Namazie seeks to express in her poem. Even though there exists an incompatible image between the Persian diaspora and queerness, it is only true in image.

The men were arguing about “religious, racial and political matters,” but liquor played a big role. (Curtis, 91) I find this line not only hilarious, but also quite revealing. I think it leads us to the point of the general racial dynamics when it comes to the way Arabs were treated in America, in this case Michigan City. While it obviously points out the racialization of Muslim Syrians in contrast to Christian Syrians, who were both trying to claim their whiteness in the eyes of European Americans, it also shows the attitudes of the press and public opinion on Arabs in that period. The mention of “race riots” by the Cedar Rapids Gazette to explain the event illustrates the lack of interest attributed to understanding Syrians. By characterizing it like such, it throws the confrontation under the etiquette of “just another fight between minorities”, depriving it, and so Syrians of any substantial weight in society.

This as well as the more blatant racism like the fear of Trachoma spreading because of Syrians are proof that no matter how much Syrians fought between each other for a limited number of “white cards”, they were never truly considered as anything else than Arabs/Turks, or like Indiana newspapers wrote, Asiatic, further orientalizing Arabs to appropriate them the image of the more easily indentifiable darker skinned minorities.

When I moved to Montreal, I grew close to a friend of a friend named David. David is a white Lebanese, previously Christian now converted Muslim man. He is 6’, quite large, has short curly red hair, and a long curly red beard. I’ve only ever known David as Muslim, and when I met him, his religion didn’t come as a shock to me, due to his physical appearance, easily associable to the stereotype of a Muslim man. When I asked him how is life had changed since he converted to Islam, he told me the most notable change was how he was perceived by those who knew him before and after, especially how his physical traits were perceived. When he was Christian, what people saw most was that he was a white Arab. Granted he was only 16, so his beard wasn’t what it is now, but it was clearly there, and his hair was close to the exact same. As a Muslim, he now feels that the attention around his physical appearance has shifted from the color of his skin and towards the physical traits, more closely associated to Islam.

Through the reading and further reflection, I see how this is the clearest example of how religion are interpreted as a package. This is not something that is limited to whiteness: it would be hard for my mind to associate a black man to Buddhism or Japanese man to Hinduism, but with the whiteness aspect comes a social implication, especially in the case of westward migration. The struggle for integration into Western society isn’t limited to people of color. When white Muslims, Jews, and others enter the Western world, they are confronted to the Christian perception rather than any ethnic or racial perception, which still yields similar results in terms of discriminations. Like David, they feel a differenciation from the white majority, despite being a part of it. In a way, there is a white, whiter and whitest.

TH9 is the polar opposite of Ghandian “passive resistance”. It calls for a violent response to the various acts of racism suffered by Bangladeshis in the UK during the race riots of 1993. With lyrics such as “Give the fascist man a gunshot // That's the only way”, there’s a clear shift from the non-violence which we often attach to the decolonization of the old British Raj. However, different contexts, in the UK and in the broader world serve to explain why some find this shift to be necessary to combat racism and exclusion, especially when the other side does not show this kind of restraint.

When I think of this shift, I see the parallel with the American Civil Rights Movement, with this great debate on non-violence, encouraged by MLK Jr, and the violence, encouraged by Malcom X. The parallel is clear in TH9 with the lyrics “Police doing nothing: // One rule for Black // Another for the White.”
By drawing this parallel, we see how this shift from non-violent forms of protests to their violent counterpart is a far more global phenomenon. I think that this is due to growing frustration and impatience of the oppressed, who through the progress of non violent resistance have grown increasingly more aware of the persistence of the systemically racist global order. While non violence can yield in results, and often provide a more stable and peaceful outcome, they can be painfully slow and long to endure for the oppressed. The 1990’s were in a way a culmination of this frustration, as can notably be seen with the heavily mediatized LA riots, which burst into a new era of protests.

The history of Jazz is often perceived as a loose single line narrative: Vocal and rythmic music of slaves —> Gospel —> Ragtime —> Jazz. But this narrative includes only a single outside influence, the European one, in the movement from Gospel to Ragtime. However, jazz as a music form is possibly one of the most complex, notably because it’s true evolution is much closer to a story of borrowing and experimenting with all genres.

What Jazz has represented however has been much clearer. By allowing outside influence to alter itself, and with its high level of musical freedom despite the rhytmic rigidity, jazz symbolizes tolerance and inclusion. This is made even clearer when we understand the history around the genre. In the case of Islamic influence, the same can be said, but with an added layer of social complexity.
We see the inclusion in the Ahmadi Islam, which is the source of much of the Islamic influence on jazz and is in the words of Moustafa Bouyami “is where blacks become Asians and Asians black under color of divine law”. What adds this extra layer of complexity, however, is the message that resonates in the political scene of mid 1900’s America when two oppressed groups in US society both participate in sending out the musical message that Jazz sends. In “The Spark”, Roots continues this symbolism in the genre that many perceive to be heir of jazz in the single line narrative I talked about, exemplifying the prolonged influence Black Islam has had on the predominately black music scene of the US.

Growing up in one of the most diverse city in the world, the variety of foods and the multiculturalism it expresses has always been a given. It was natural for me, like it is for most people in western society, to grab some Mexican for lunch, Poke bowls for dinner, and Shakshuka for breakfast. What I failed to reflect on then, which I do now after the Buetnner reading, is that I always felt some sort of pride in this multiculturalism, personal pride. I felt like my city was a sincere hub of tolerance, diversity and cultural expression, and it didn’t hurt to be able to eat 2$ tacos and 10$ sushi from mom and pops Mexican and Japanese restaurants.

When Buetnner writes of “benevolent multiculturalism”, it is a reflexion of this misplaced pride that I felt, in which I place the city as a gracious host, as if it is a gift we are giving to other cultures to be able to exercise their practices, in this case food, in our city.
When Indians and other South Asians immigrated to the United Kingdom, their culinary culture became one with the national identity of Great Britain. In the same way I had, they had pridefully claimed this aspect of South Indian culture as one of their own, showcasing their willingness to integrate and incorporate only when it would put them in a favorable light. Αs Robin Cook puts it in his speech, “Such cultural traffic did not threaten British national identity.”

However well this reading has allowed me to reflect on this, I still believe it is important to nuance. While there is a subconscious pride within the Western population, there also exists a genuine pure intention in some of creating a perfectly multicultural culinary scene, which in some way, would reflect the integration, however harsh and tumultuous it has been and continues to be, into Western life. In this way, my pride has been transformed through this reading as gratefulness, as I see the 2$ tacos and 10$ sushi as a gift now.

A concept that in my life I have found is much more prevalent in North America then in Europe, both white majority continents, is the concept of “minorities” as a group. While in Europe, ethnic, religious, and racial groups are often spoken of, and often in a discriminatory way, they are rarely squeezed into one group under the banner of “minorities”. This “squeezing” is something that I have found to be far more prevalent in the USA and Canada. In his chapter, Ward talks about the impact that Chinese, and also to a lesser extent, Japanese presence in British Columbia had on the treatment Indians were subjected to upon their arrival. Ward talks about the prevalent Sinophobia in the region and how it naturally overflowed into the Indian population as it was automatically integrated into a broader Asian group.

Ward also talks about how Indians immigrants created associations and an Indian community, in order to fulfill their cultural and spiritual needs. These associations also found themselves politically engaged in notably two missions: “self-defense in Canada and Indian nationalism.” (Ward 81) Through this, they made their identities known and engaged themselves to defend this identity.

I find this to be interesting as it can be brought back to what I said about the concept of minorities. When we associate nationalities, ethnicities…, we stifle individual identities. However, paradoxically, this creates the counter effect of these groups wanting to make themselves seen as who they truly are in their identity. I find this example that Ward gives us through his chapter to be particularly interesting, as despite the Indian population representing a minuscule fraction of the British Columbian population compared to the Chinese population of the province, at a time where non-white immigration was much more limited, they were still subject to this grouping. This idea is still incredibly relevant to this day, as we see various minorities throughout the Western world truly claim their identities in response to this “minority association” they had historically gone through in the form of similar treatments, discriminations or legally or socially segregated neighborhoods.

Immigration in America has always been a tricky balance. The underlying racist structure of the US in the late 19th and early 20th century, when one of the largest wave of migration came, made it difficult for White Americans to come to terms with the fact that immigration was necessary for the country to thrive. However, a sort of self constructed compromise has created a “natural” separation between the various minorities, and for South Asians who arrived in New York in the early 20th, this created a parallel between the situation they now find themselves in and the situation of British rule on the subcontinent.

In both cases, the South Indian populations were subjected to orientalism by the Westerners. As Bald puts it, “ In their original context, Orientalist narratives and imagery had performed a particular kind of work. The British portrayal of India as the seat of a once great but now decaying civilization provided moral and political justification for the imposition and maintenance of colonial rule. In the American context, Orientalist notions were more free-floating.” (Bald 17) In this way, we can see how the South Asian identity was exploited for economic benefits. However, a notable difference is in how the South Asians in America themselves used this to prosper in their new home. Bald speaks of an “insatiable desire” for “Oriental goods”, which drove early South Asian immigrants to tie themselves in the societal networks.

Bald speaks of this narrative of this entrepreneurial immigration of South Asians but also about how this narrative has been rewritten to convey a message which ties itself more with the “American Dream” ideal. I find this to be symbolic in the way that it shows that the South Asian diaspora is often given the role that suits the country it is in best. While early 20th century were given an exotic oriental trait, it seems today, it serves better the American narrative that South Asian immigrants are the fruit of America’s inspiring role in the world.

The song Empire Empire offers a glimpse into how South Asia’s living in the UK artistically express their stories, and their histories. What is extremely relevant to the larger sociological analysis is to go further than the lyrics of the song, which clearly condemns the British Empire and its behavior in the Raj it controlled. If we listen to the music itself, we hear something of an oriental, South Asia ambiance, but in a westernized fashion. The accented beat muffled by a controlled chaos reminds us of the UK’s rebellious punk scene of the 80’s and 90’s. What’s interesting with this is that the song loosely or strongly, depending on much you hear it, borrows from this format. Despite being able to draw parallels between the rebellious anti-monarchic youth of the 80’s in the United Kingdom and the anti-colonial South Asian populations, it remains to me a paradox that to express something against the United Kingdom, this song uses integrated an aspect of the UK’s culture.
There are a few theories I have drawn from this:

1. If the target audience of this song is the British people to get them to understand the message, spreading your message in a way they can understand it is more efficient.
2. The immigrant populations of South Asia have become naturally influenced by their life in the UK and this is a sign of unconscious integration despite the song’s message that is deeply rooted in the origins of the artist.
3. This is a voluntary message that the artist wished to pass along, the message being that there is a persisted grasp on South Asian culture by the UK that South Asians must push away. This would explain why the last few seconds of the song are free of all the UK punk influence and remind us a more of a simpler, less confusing theme.

Whether any of the theories work, it is undeniable that the UK has had tremendous influence on South Asian culture, and South Asians living in the UK are individually and collectively faced with a balance they must tip themselves between assimilation and heritage.

This isn’t necessarily a reply to the first post here but I could not figure out how to make this post stand on its own so I’m putting it as a quick reply.

Though Husain begins his review with an example of the effects of 9/11 on Islamophobia, he does not limit himself to the time period that begins in 2001 and continues to today. It is a socio-historical study of Islamophobia through a long History that can help us characterize why Islamophobia shares many similarities to any other form or racism, despite being by definition, and by definition only, not associated to the concept of race. To understand why, we need to look first at the terrible practical aspect of this association that Junaid Raina puts forth. Rana writes “notions of racialized Muslims were placed on African slaves as enslavement was justified through a process of benevolent domination”. Through this, there is a clear association between race and Islam that is created in the process of the establishment of a rapport of strength. If we can understand this attempt at creating a superiority through this association, we can easily comprehend why Islamophobia has become another form of racism. A generalization of a whole population, which regroups Berbers of Morocco, Arabs of the Golf, or Pakistanis and Indians, under the banner of Islam, wether the individuals or even societies of this group are Muslim or not, has facilitated the development of a racial domination for whites. This includes on a national scale such as racial disparities in the United States, or on a more global scale in the establishment of North-South schism. As Husain explains through the anecdote of the Arab Slayer after 9/11, this creates a widespread stigma on this entire population group despite having no true association. To summarize, Islamophobia has grown to become more than a distrust, hatred or discrimation against a certain religion, but rather has become so entangled with the notion of race that it is as much a form of racism as anti-African or anti-Asian racism.