What the murder of George Floyd means in the United Kingdom
Artwork by Rhianna Betts
As George Floyd’s name resounds across the world, the UK is to assess its own history of oppression. Alisa Wadsworth explains.
George Floyd is now the face of a global civil rights movement fighting for the end to systemic oppression of Black people all around the world. The movement originated in the United States, a country with a history founded upon systemic racism. George Floyd’s death occurred as a result of police brutality, which is one feature of a large web of institutions and policies that perpetuate systemic oppression of Black people in the United States, which also includes mass incarceration, redlining, and voter suppression. However, the protests have crossed borders and continents, with particularly powerful protests occurring in the UK and other Western European countries that have damaging legacies of imperialism and colonialism.
As an American who has spent some time in London, it did not feel as though racism was discussed as much in the United Kingdom as in the US. This may very well be because my time in London was limited, but for a country that - similarly to the US - has racism and white supremacy strongly woven into the fabric of its history, conversations about systemic racism seem few and far between. One of the only times I participated in such conversations within the UK was during my course on welfare states in which examples of institutionalised racism such as discrimination within the legal system as well as housing came up. From my experience in the UK, it seems to me that racism is either under-played or under-discussed, which is a tendency I had also noticed in the US among my non-Black peers.
Nonetheless, racism is regularly practised and upheld within the UK. According to the UK Government’s 2019 Black Caribbean ethnic group report, Black Caribbean people were 9.6 times as likely to be stopped and searched as their white counterparts and 3.8 times as likely to be arrested. Twenty-eight per cent of Black Caribbean people felt as though they were likely to be a victim of crime within the next year, as opposed to 18% of white people. In schools, a two-year study showed that Black Caribbean students were disproportionately expelled from schools; at no point in time have they been less than three times more likely to be permanently excluded than their white peers. In universities, over 50% of students were racially harassed and one out of 20 students subsequently left their studies because of racial harassment, as the Equality and Human Rights Commission reported in 2019.
These statistics represent the daily reality of systemic racism across the UK. In the US, I have spent time understanding how institutionalised racism has shifted from de jure to de facto, in that laws may not promote Black subjugation in writing, but it upholds the oppression, segregation, and discrimination of Black people in practice. For example, while redlining was deemed illegal, it still happens in practice, with banks still denying loans more often to Black people than non-Black people. The statistics described above indicate a similar reality in the UK: while perhaps UK legislation does not explicitly target Black populations, that does not mean that discrimination is not occurring in nearly every facet of life.
The recent three-year anniversary of the Grenfell fire is a stark reminder of governmental failings of Black communities in the UK. Merely seven months before the fire, the Grenfell Action Group had argued that it would take a catastrophe for people to realise the ineptitude of the local council in providing safe housing and living conditions. Segregation and gentrification resulted in poorly built high-rise buildings that were in large part occupied by Black communities; instances such as the Grenfell fire are not accidents, just as other forms of tragedies instigated by institutionalised racism do not happen by sheer coincidence. It is important to recognise the legacy of systemic racism and notions of white supremacy that are so embedded within the foundation of the UK. The tragedy of Grenfell is commemorated yearly, but yet it was seemingly not enough to enact adequate change. The death of Belly Mujinga, a ticket controller who died after a man who said he had COVID-19 spat on her, was a tragedy but it was not an isolated incident; just like Grenfell, it reflects the legacy of racism that courses through the entirety of British colonial history.
The ongoing protests reflect a movement for civil justice that urges people to reconsider not only their own privilege, but the damage of their silence. These protests are fighting for basic and fundamental human rights for Black people, and it is imperative for those who have previously been unengaged, uninformed, or perhaps oblivious to begin the process of unlearning and relearning. This current movement has shown that just because many have been taught to think and behave in a particular way does not mean that this cannot - or should not - be changed. For my British peers seeing police brutality and other injustices within the US that are currently in the limelight, I hope that you take the time to learn about my country’s history of oppression. However, I also hope that the waves of protests throughout the UK encourage you to reflect on British institutionalised racism, and then, I encourage you to take action.
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