Cultural appropriation needs more nuance: A response to your responses.

Let me just start by saying that I am overwhelmed by the amount of traction and response my article on cultural appropriation got. I am also pleasantly surprised by the fact that the response has been largely positive, when you consider just how ridiculous and defensive people can get about this topic. I was pleased to see that my article resonated with so many people.

I also greatly appreciate the people who, while disagreeing with me, were able to do so in a constructive, civil manner. The interwebz definitely needs more of that. So, thank you everyone.

People have shared some valid criticism and concerns and I would like to acknowledge those in this article.

It is indeed true that often times, people with structural power (in this case white people) will profit of our works — and will get a lot more credit for it than us people of colour do. But I do not think the solution to that is so much to tell people to stop consuming something — because it puts responsibility and blame on individuals — when we should be fighting the powers that be — doing things to change the structure that makes it such that the work of people of colour is invalidated unless white people validate it. I am not asking for that particular aspect of the conversation to stop. But I am saying there needs to be more nuance here.

I am asking you to look at the concept of cultural appropriation with a critical lens. Ask yourself if the censorship and banning of words/arts/crafts/food by people in power is something that provides a viable solution to the problem of structural racism and inequality here. For instance, when black people are mocked for wearing dreadlocks, while white people wearing dreadlocks are seen as cool and edgy — that is absofuckinglutely racism. But is the solution then to instruct white people (or non-black people of colour) to not wear dreadlocks? Will white people or non-black PoC stopping to wear dreadlocks stop the discrimination and mockery that black people get for wearing dreadlocks? The censorship of freedom of expression lies at the core of this concept, and the parallels it has with the blasphemy laws of the country I come from are really rather striking. Especially so when people dictate against the usage of an innocent, harmless metaphor like Spirit Animal.

Is it true that there are racist white people, who while being racist to said culture, use the forms of said culture with no regard to the culture? Absofuckinglutely. But that is a whole another topic altogether. And, for me, personally, it makes more sense to discuss it as racism rather than as cultural appropriation. Because it seems more to the point when I do refer to it as racism.

I am saying, let’s turn this conversation in the direction of structural inequalities that make it okay to mock marginalized cultures until a white person validates those said cultures. Let’s make it less about being the arbiters of who gets to use which cultural forms. I want to see no more of that garbage flying around the interwebz about who stole hummus from who, or furious rants that take offense if non-arab women want to learn how to bellydance. Less of that ridiculousness, please. I am not okay with any concept that tries to shun learning between cultures.

I do not see it as a point of contention if a white woman learns how to apply henna well, and makes use of that skill — the issue here is not that, the issue occurs when her work gains recognition at the expense of a brown woman’s work. The solution then is to change things in a direction that the brown woman’s work isn’t undermined, and not that a white woman not profit of her skills. You know what I am saying? Henna is an amazing art that should be accessible for everyone to learn — regardless of race or class. As someone who is a huge arts enthusiast, I cannot be okay with people trying to ban its consumption/selling/learning in the name of anti-racism.

For now, I am gonna focus more on the fact that henna was largely such a class thing in my home country Pakistan — and good henna designs were so not for you if you were poor. I care about making these kind of things more accessible, and hopefully one day henna becomes an art that is enthusiastically learned by people around the world. And becomes more and more accessible for everyone.

Remember also, that power dynamics are different in every given society in the world — and in many of these contexts it isn’t always white people who are the most powerful. In the context of Pakistan, it’s Punjabi sunnis who have the most privilege — so how do we decide who gets to what and who doesn’t? Remember also that cultures even within a country and region vary greatly. Different regions and provinces in my country had styles of clothing, music, cuisine, history and art and crafts that were specific to them. Who, then, gets to decide who is the most oppressed and most powerful and what rightfully belongs to who? What defines privilege in such a context? There is far too much essentialism that the concept of cultural appropriation leads to that I am simply not okay with. For the lack of a better term, it seems rather totalitarian to me.

Besides, who draws the line for who is allowed to consume and sell what? Who gets to be the authority on that? I am wary of people who try to be the gatekeepers for that kind of thing — almost as though they speak for everyone in their culture and decide what belongs to whom. Also, often times, the concept of cultural appropriation is used to monitor and police minority communities. An issue that is covered very well in this article by Kenan Malik, to quote him:

“…who does the policing? Who gives permission for people of other cultures to use particular cultural forms? Who acts as the gatekeepers to gated cultures?

Most black people could probably not care less what Justin Beiber does to his hair. Inevitably, the gatekeepers are those who are outraged by Bieber’s locks.

The very fact of being outraged makes one the arbiter of what is outrageous. The gatekeepers, in other words, define themselves, because they are ones who want to put up the gates.

The debates around Justin Bieber’s hair or Beyonce’s Bollywood outfit are relatively trivial. But, in other contexts, the creation of gatekeepers has proved highly problematic.

In many European nations, minority groups have come to be seen as distinct communities, each with their own interests, needs and desires, and each with certain so-called “community leaders” acting as their representatives.

Such leaders are frequently religious, often conservative, and rarely representative of their communities. But they wield great power as mediators between their communities and wider society. In effect, they act as gatekeepers to those communities.

Their role as gatekeepers is particularly problematic when it comes to policing not fashion styles or cuisine but ideas. Community leaders often help define what is acceptable to say about particular communities, and what is “offensive”.

And notions of “offence” are often used to police not just what outsiders may say about a particular community, but to shut down debate within those communities — think of the fatwa against Salman Rushdie or the shutting down by Sikh activists of Sikh playwright Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s play Behzti, which explored the role of women within Sikh communities.

The campaign against cultural appropriation is, in other words, part of the broader attempt to police communities and cultures. Those who most suffer from such policing are minority communities themselves, and in particular progressive voices within those communities.

The real fight against injustice begins with ridding ourselves of our self-appointed gatekeepers.”

I highly recommend reading Kenan Malik’s article in its entirety here:
http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2016/04/bane-cultural-appropriation-160414080237198.html

If you liked my previous article, you are going to like his that much more.

I also fundamentally disagree with the the way appropriation-obsessed types tend to define my culture or decide that said things somehow belong to everyone in the culture. When they may only be accessible to many people.

They see my culture as: Henna tattoos, brightly coloured awesome styles of clothing with intricate designs, big grand happy weddings, tasty food, and intricate musical instruments.

But really, to me, those are all the things that the actual misery and pain of my culture hides behind. My culture is better off being seen as one that comprises of justified and rationalized and institutionalized violence towards women, rampant homophobia and transphobia and biphobia, measuring all of a woman’s worth by the state of her hymen, broken dreams, justified parental abuse, religious persecution, lack of autonomy for anyone, toxic ideas of honour and modesty….

The concept of cultural appropriation holds my culture in a higher regard than it deserves, looking only at its most superficial aspects. My culture deserves no respect at all, and I am not ashamed to say that I have 0 respect for it.

I also do have a particular gripe with the way writers of fiction are accused of cultural appropriation. One example that comes to mind is J.K. Rowling being accused of it because of using Native American mythology in her stories. Which struck me as quite ridiculous — so even mythology and fiction itself cannot be used in fiction? To quote the awesome Lionel Shriver:

“The author of Who Owns Culture? Appropriation and Authenticity in American Law, Susan Scafidi, a law professor at Fordham University who for the record is white, defines cultural appropriation as “taking intellectual property, traditional knowledge, cultural expressions, or artifacts from someone else’s culture without permission. This can include unauthorised use of another culture’s dance, dress, music, language, folklore, cuisine, traditional medicine, religious symbols, etc.”

What strikes me about that definition is that “without permission” bit. However are we fiction writers to seek “permission” to use a character from another race or culture, or to employ the vernacular of a group to which we don’t belong? Do we set up a stand on the corner and approach passers-by with a clipboard, getting signatures that grant limited rights to employ an Indonesian character in Chapter Twelve, the way political volunteers get a candidate on the ballot?

I am hopeful that the concept of “cultural appropriation” is a passing fad: people with different backgrounds rubbing up against each other and exchanging ideas and practices is self-evidently one of the most productive, fascinating aspects of modern urban life.

But this latest and little absurd no-no is part of a larger climate of super-sensitivity, giving rise to proliferating prohibitions supposedly in the interest of social justice that constrain fiction writers and prospectively makes our work impossible.”

The rest of her article on guardian regarding this topic can be read here:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/sep/13/lionel-shrivers-full-speech-i-hope-the-concept-of-cultural-appropriation-is-a-passing-fad?CMP=fb_gu

The next time you hear someone accusing someone of cultural appropriation, remember the things I said here, and try and look at this concept more critically. Be critical of anything that you see attacking freedom of expression — from blasphemy laws to the concept of cultural appropriation. That is all I really ask of anyone. And thank you for reading. :)