Grief for the queen requires grief for others, and change
Racially and ethnically minoritized communities do not have to bleed at the altar of whiteness for our lives to matter. Most recently, it took the brutal public murder of Mr. George Floyd for many to make commitments to eliminate racism.
But the racial reckoning of 2020 was short-lived. It was short-lived because good white people are often moved by explicit Black oppression, not by insidious and ubiquitous white supremacy. The denial of white supremacy is what keeps racism alive. To end racism, we must make white supremacy as visible we do Black trauma. The death of Queen Elizabeth II is a good moment to do so.
The British monarchy represents white domination for millions of people across the world. To them, Queen Elizabeth II symbolized colonialism, imperialism, slavery, wars and genocides that have caused significant intergenerational suffering.
The queen and the monarchy are to some people what confederate generals and flags are to others. The queen is to some, what Russian President Vladimir Putin is to others, what Adolf Hitler is to others. These are extremely uncomfortable truths.
One of the things that makes the queen beloved to many is what I have come to describe as sanctification of white womanhood — how the society perceives white women as inherently pure, righteous, and unequivocally worthy of respect, protection, and dignity. But it goes beyond the white womanhood of Queen Elizabeth II.
It is the monarchy and its power, having controlled and plundered wealth from over 90 countries and colonies. This power and its legacy influence global narratives and experiences through neo-colonial projects because white supremacy is also about ideological and economic dominance.
Why must we use the historic moment of the death of the queen to expose white supremacy and to recommit to anti-racism?
First, white domination is necessary for the suffering of racially and ethnically minoritized peoples. The monarchy exists as an inherently racialized caste system that protects and preserves white supremacy.
What are the odds of a nonwhite monarch and what would that mean for the monarchy? Why were they concerned about how dark Archie’s skin would be? Why didn’t Queen Elizabeth II engage in conversations about structural racism or acknowledge and apologize for the monarchy’s roles in colonialism, wars, and the genocide of many indigenous populations? What would such an apology mean?
What are the origins of the wealth of the royal family and how does it shape material inequalities and racial hierarchy globally? Considerations of these questions can help make visible the white supremacy of the British monarchy and how it maintains the oppression of racially and ethnically marginalized communities across the world.
Second, glorifying the queen without also critiquing the monarchy’s role in human suffering disregards, and perhaps approves of, the atrocities inflicted across the globe over centuries. While many mourn the loss of a ruler and celebrate her life, her death triggers psychological and physiological responses among many who have endured suffering under the monarchy.
The suffering and trauma of these populations are neither less painful nor less important than the grief of those who mourn the queen. Yet, for many who believe that all people are created equal, the subconscious and deeply embedded notions of white supremacy force them to ironically undermine, invalidate, devalue, and reject the lived experiences, grief, pain and suffering of colonial subjects, ultimately dehumanizing these subjects.
But let’s move forward. Queen Elizabeth’s death presents an opportunity for King Charles III to begin difficult conversations necessary to eliminate racism. It is as good a time as the murder of George Floyd for individuals and institutions to critique colonialism and white supremacy, and to recommit to anti-racism.
The problem is that white supremacy also means to control and define the narrative, to expect that oppressed peoples withhold disdain and show nothing but respect for their oppressors, and to censor the ways by which victims of the same violent white supremacy express pain and trauma.
The solution lies in exposing and rejecting white supremacy, especially during moments when it is ceremoniously upheld. Everyone, every institution can do this, even if they are also mourning the queen as a human being.