Fifteen years ago, White people walked into a shared kitchen in our university halls in the UK and were treated to the sight of me eating rice with my hands. “You could use a fork, you know,” suggested one. I could — but why should I? “This is how we eat,” I shrugged, and that was that. The memory floated unbidden to the surface as I read about Zohran Mamdani, the Democratic nominee for mayor of New York City, being pilloried for eating biryani with his hands.
On one level, beyond the obvious racism, it’s an integration-versus-multiculturalism question: The virtues of the former are often trumpeted over those of the latter in debates about immigration, but how far can you go before it becomes an act of surrender, of passing every little facet of your culture and identity through a filter to ensure the White man’s comfort? The niceties of knives and forks are among the many spoken and unspoken social shibboleths; they span social etiquette, accent, dress, what cricket team you support — a test of loyalty proposed by one of Margaret Thatcher’s lieutenants — and more.
Multiculturalism, which Mamdani exemplifies so well, allows for more give-and-take, a broadening of horizons, and yes, a little more discomfort for everyone — at least in the short run — if done right. If done wrong, it poses a greater challenge to the host polity and society, as opposed to the individual: A lack of mutual understanding, conflicting values, and in the worst instances, total ghettoisation, systemic deprivation and resentment boiling over. The trick may be to find a golden mean, the right balance of integrating migrants into the host society and respecting their cultures. It’s an elusive, subjective and perhaps quixotic idea, as the riven societies of the West and the onward march of ethno-nationalist politics attest to.
For individuals, one challenge — not the greatest, but quite a wearisome one nonetheless — is to fend off alienation by a thousand sneers. In Mamdani’s case, there’s open hatred and bigotry on display from predictable quarters. But such things can also sometimes transcend the conscious politics of the people involved; there’s something visceral in the discomfort, an ingrained feeling of disgust. “You smell (or your house smells) of curry” is another one of those things you encounter unlooked for: It can come out of nowhere and from people you wouldn’t expect it from, given their views — they might explain it as having something to do with ventilation. Just as you might find “mainland” Indians of any political flavour who aren’t exactly comfortable with the aromas and flavours of Northeastern cuisines; perhaps their noses truly can’t help it, but expressing it insensitively is a sure way of causing hurt.
Pinpricks like these can burst the bubble of belonging and security, the sense of having integrated and become a productive and patriotic member of your new society, even identifying proudly with its past. Both the conscious and the unconscious bigots remind you it’s an illusion that can be shattered at any time. The resulting insecurity breeds a certain wariness, especially when you’re the only Brown or Black person in the vicinity; even when there’s no immediate unpleasantness, sometimes you can’t help but wonder — what are they really thinking? It’s why the film Get Out (2017) resonated so strongly with me, although it’s about African Americans in the US rather than immigrants: A horror story in which the Black protagonist meets, and is effusively welcomed by his girlfriend’s family and other White people who hide a terrible secret.
In the face of this ebbing and flowing tide of hostility, it can help to have something to anchor us in the host society: Support, friendships, relationships. In other words, people whose empathy can shatter the barriers built by parochial minds, who can affirm to us that we are who we think and hope we are. Mamdani certainly seems to have no shortage of those. May many others, too, find their people and thrive.
rohan.manoj@expressindia.com
