Beyond Justification: Unmasking the Contempt Behind Anti-Immigrant Sentiment

Image courtesy: Reuters

My grandfather arrived in England in the 1960s. Previously a teacher who had dedicated his life to the pursuit and distribution of knowledge, he sought new means of support for his young family, including my mother, who was 5 at the time. When he told his white colleagues he wanted to be a bus conductor, they laughed. He was told the job was far too aspirational for a man 'like him', and that he could try being a bus driver instead.

This isn't an isolated incident. As many immigrants will know, our relatives shedding their passions, communities, and old lives, so we could enjoy better ones, is a frequently told story.

So why now do I feel compelled to question why the same sentiments, weaponised against immigrants in the 60s against my own relatives, appear to be re-emerging? Why is anti-immigrant hatred, something deemed an anachronistic relic of the past, still rearing its ugly head in politics today?

The race riots of July 2024 point to the disturbing existence of the racialised rhetoric that continues to pervade Britain. The riots saw mobs of, primarily white men, take to the streets to 'highlight their grievances' over the immigrants who were allegedly taking over their country and causing disarray in Britain. Emboldened by their numbers, they overcame these ‘struggles’ by looting Greggs, dragging immigrant drivers out of their cars, and throwing rocks at Filipino nurses. The riots were characterised by prominent anti- immigrant sentiment, islamophobia and cultural nativism.

A recent study by KCL suggested Britain was amongst the least racist countries in the world. As a country, we view ourselves as a prime example of multiculturalism, and we wear this label like a badge of honour. After all, in a country whose national dish is Chicken Tikka Masala, how can we be racist? 

But it is precisely this kind of narrative that has made us so complacent in ignoring the endemic racial animosity across the country. One only has to look as far back as the 2016 Brexit vote to observe the ease at which politicians can manipulate existing racial divides. The referendum itself was intensely racially charged; Farage's 'Breaking Point' poster, which depicted a host of POC attempting to enter the country, was reported to the police for its potential to incite racial hatred. 

Individuals have theorised over again about why anti-immigrant nationalism has become so prevalent. The consensus is that most of these, primarily white, individuals come from communities characterised by economic stagnation, and instead of directing their anger at the establishment, it is easier for them to metaphorically 'dump' their stultifying disappointment on those deemed socially 'beneath' them, like immigrants. 

Every time this narrative is espoused, we are reminded that these angry, rioting, people are victims of a political system that has left them behind. They are people who, enraged by regional disparities and governmental neglect, have taken to the streets, frustrated at their political voicelessness.

For the riots of 2024, this is not the case.

As someone who is non- white themselves, the exhortations to empathise with the rioters leave me with nothing but an empty sense of anger. The idea that POC should be burdened to sympathise with the very people who refuse to accept them as fellow Britons, is grossly unjust. During the riots, I feared for friends and family. I feared for my elderly Grandma leaving her house and walking on the streets she had lived on for 89 years. I feared for my younger brother. I felt alienated from myself and the country I am supposedly a citizen of. 

Whilst England does indeed suffer from national disparities that need to be urgently addressed, these rioters were not driven by the urge to better their nation. These people, who attempted to set alight hotels where traumatised refugees had sought safety, used their alleged patriotic commitment as a veneer for their true motivation: contempt. They masked their malice as morality. And it is bitterly ironic, then, that they themselves pose such a threat to the country they claim to love.