Habesha IS Black
I was born in Ethiopia. I am an Ethiopian immigrant. I am an Ethiopian American. I am Black.
These are my identities.
Growing up, my parents would tell me: “You are not Black, you’re Ethiopian.”
While this may be partially true, in America, I am undoubtedly Black. If you disagree, go consult a brown paper bag. It’s a seemingly meaningless distinction, but this statement was detrimental to my understanding of my identity as a Black boy transitioning into a Black man in America. I want to talk about it so that we can start a discussion and end the self-hating. I am coming for my own people, but this discussion as a whole should be applied to every single African immigrant community in the U.S. You might not realize it, but we are perpetuating racial stereotypes.
“You are not Black, you’re Ethiopian.”
Unlike other African groups, Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants refer to themselves as “Habesha,” which means Semitic-speaking inhabitants of Ethiopia & Eritrea.
“You are not Black, you’re Ethiopian.”
My parents and Habesha people use this statement to set a distinction between themselves and Black Americans (or descendants of enslaved people). Why is this distinction important for Habesha people? According to Elizabeth Chacko, an expert in racial, national, and ethnic identity formation among immigrants, Black immigrants resist identification with “American Blacks for a number of reasons, including prejudices against native Blacks, general aversion to an undistinguished Black identity, and pride in national identity.” Not only do Eritreans & Ethiopian immigrants know the roots of their ancestors but Ethiopia is one of the two African countries to never be colonized by Europeans. But how did our national pride turn into an aversion to claiming Blackness as an identity?
Historical Perspective
Within a regional context, the ruling elites of Ethiopia, particularly Menelik and Haile Selassie, shaped the nation’s image in paradoxical ways that hailed Ethiopia “as a symbol of Africa and freedom,” yet conversely asserted that “Ethiopians were neither Africans nor Black,” focusing instead on their links to ancient Israel and the legend of Solomon and Sheba. To add to the feelings of superiority, Europeans attempting to buttress their self-image began to regard Ethiopians as “honorary whites” after they defeated the Italian army in the late 19th century since their racist discourse did not permit them to acknowledge that Black men could defeat whites. This evaluation deluded the minds and hearts of Ethiopians and impacted their view of Black people. In fact, in the book “Imaging Ethiopia,” John Sorenson describes the racial prejudices and pretensions of Ethiopian elites who were said to consider themselves better than Blacks, whom they scorned as “barya,” which means “slave” in Amharic.
Media and Blackness
Research on media portrayals of Black Americans has found that Black Americans have been frequently portrayed in stereotypical roles (criminals or athletes) or with negative personality characteristics (lazy, welfare queen, thugs). The media spends a great deal of time dehumanizing Black people, and it has been incredibly effective. Studies dealing with television portrayals of Black Americans have looked at the effects of viewing these images. Thomas Ford conducted an experiment testing this very phenomenon and found that Anglo-Americans who have high exposure to negative television portrayals of African-Americans are more inclined to make negative assumptions about other Black Americans.
Furthermore, Ford maintained that unfavorable portrayals of Blacks not only influenced white people’s perceptions but Black Americans’ perceptions as well. Because some Habesha immigrants never come in contact with nor form meaningful relationships with Black Americans, their perceptions of Black Americans are also based solely on racist media depictions. Often times, the Habesha people who have the least contact with Black Americans and therefore have the least understanding of Black American history (American history) and culture, are the most critical. In contrast, those who spend more time with African Americans and have a basic understanding of Black American history, typically have a more nuanced perspective.
Self-Segregation
Why is this important? We distance ourselves from Black Americans to maintain our Habesha identity by pursuing transnational connections (sending money home, participating in homeland politics, holidays and religious practice), producing Habesha-only spaces, displaying the attributes of a “model minority,” and preserving Habesha ancestry through endogamy (only marrying other Habeshas). In a 2011 study of Habesha Ethiopians and Eritreans in Washington, Shelly Habecker examined the identity choices of Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants and found that Habeshas resist assimilating into African American communities, and they don’t identify with the African American experience of racism and exclusion.
“Little Ethiopia” in the Washington D.C. region is an example of how the Habesha diaspora comes together to form the largest concentration of Ethiopians, and Ethiopian culture, outside of Africa. When Habesha immigrants come to the U.S., the new arrivals self-segregate to areas where they will find other Habesha who will assist them in navigating the city, finding a job and housing, and sorting out immigration matters. They join large churches that function to facilitate the performance of being Habesha in a religious and social context. The older Habeshas create informal groups such as the “mahaber” (meaning “association” or “social club”) and the “ekub” (a rotating savings and credit association) for providing mutual social and financial support. And, as of late, even the younger generations have created a platform on Instagram called, “Selam Central” (Instagram: @selamcentral), where Habesha people can connect, laugh about their shared experiences, and even find love (on a dating app called Jebena).
While I love how our community stays tight and supports other Habeshas, this self-segregation limits our ability to connect with other Black people and maintains our negative perception of Black people, gleaned from media biases. Since we don’t get to know Black Americans personally, we remain fixed on our bias and prejudice. In fact, Habecker argues, “these immigrants resist racialization even while their actions and attitudes potentially reinforce America’s racial divide.” How do Habeshas deny and perpetuate racism at the same time?
By using statements like: “You are not Black, you’re Ethiopian.”
Constructing Racial and Ethnic Identities
W.E.B. Dubois elucidated a phenomenon coined “double consciousness” whereby Black people see themselves through the eyes of White people.
Dubois explains that the experience of double-consciousness, and the shame that misrecognition provokes, undermine the possibility of equal access to democratic participation and self-determination by Black-bodied immigrants in America. If I’m losing you, this means that Habesha people are against identifying as Black because then they don’t want to identify with the racial myths and stereotypes that they believe about Black Americans. As Godfried Agyeman Asante wrote in his 2012 dissertation, Becoming “Black” in America: Exploring Racial Identity Development of African Immigrants, “[Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants] negotiate their Blackness by constantly defining and redefining themselves in social interactions by distancing themselves from the African American culture and putting a heavy emphasis on being Habesha.” Paradoxically, we reject identifying as Black because we don’t want to be mistreated while simultaneously denying that Blacks are being mistreated due to their race.
As Azeb Madebo wrote in his thesis, Re-Imagining Identities: Racial and Ethnic Discourses within Seattle’s Habesha Community, “similar to post-race and colorblind ideologies, Habesha identity results in disregarding the implications of race and racism.” The identity of African immigrants is often shaped by a hybrid of religious, indigenous African beliefs and Eurocentric norms. On the other hand, Black American culture was created and influenced by the historical fight for justice in this country. Due to the cultural differences and lack of understanding between these groups, individuals see each other with suspicion or wariness.
Outside of not knowing Black Americans personally, Habeshas don’t know Black history. Neglecting the historical impact of slavery, the Jim Crow era, segregation, exclusion from GI bills, redlining, mass incarceration, the war on drugs, gerrymandering, school to prison pipeline, systematic inequality, medical experimentations on Blacks, the generational trauma of racism and so on, Habeshas and other African immigrants fall victim to the idea that “hard work” separates them from Black Americans. They falsely believe the myths of the neoclassical theory that the wealth divide is born of differences in self-determination, prioritization, and work ethic alone. Across racial demographics, the assumption that some groups of people (whites, Asians, and Black immigrants, for example) work harder than others (like Black Americans) is maintained and reinforced in various ways.
Constructing an Identity of Exceptions
This perception of Habesha exceptionalism is nurtured by our adherence to Eurocentric values and beauty standards, which is why colorism remains a significant issue in the Habesha community. We don’t want to be Black; we want to be called “honorary whites” again.
To quell our misrecognition of being Black and to find favor among whites, Habeshas aspire to be model minorities by emphasizing hard work, education, and strong familial values. They stick to their Habesha spaces and attempt to become the antithesis of Black Americans by adhering to performative respectability politics.
Unfortunately, no matter how much we succeed, how much education we have, how respectable we are, nor how polite we may be, we will never be seen as equals let alone “honorary whites” in this country. We should give up those pipe dreams when we come to America. Some of you distance yourself from the punitive stereotypes by only accepting Blackness as a descriptor but not as an identity. Stop the self-hate. In AmeriKKKa, we are Black! Stereotypes don’t define our Blackness, we do. Own it!
I get it, most African immigrants migrate to the United States for economic and educational purposes and most often do not want to meddle in the political and moral order of the United States, But the assertion that Habesha immigrants are the model minority cannot be the basis to assume that all Habeshas and their descendants will have upward mobility in the future. In her paper “ Not black, but Habasha: Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants in American society,” Habecker concludes: “Remaining relatively isolated within their ethnic communities they may succeed in differentiating themselves from American Blacks, but they are not likely to join the American mainstream on a par with whites.” More importantly, by staying silent, we are becoming complicit in issues of inequality and racism that not only affect Black Americans but Black immigrants as well.
My fellow Habeshas, HAVE A BACKBONE!
I know the media has played a part in dehumanizing Black people, but it’s up to us to humanize each other. Habeshas, learn more about our Black American brothers and sisters and their historical plight for racial justice in this country. The same way you have reasons for coming to the U.S. in search of a better life, understand the factors that make living life in the U.S. difficult for Black Americans. Don’t perpetuate these racial stereotypes. Don’t empower the systems that oppress you by denial or inaction. We need to understand the privilege that we have as people who haven’t been enslaved. At the same time, because we don’t originate from this country, we don’t understand the structures of systemic racism and oppression operating within our communities and we falsely believe the myth of living in a post-racial society.
My people, please educate yourself.
(To learn more, follow this resource guide)
We need to teach our kids that we are Black and Habesha! We need to prepare them for a world that will see them as a threat due to the color of their skin. They have to understand that self-hate, respectability politics, and distancing themselves from their Black identity will not make them appear less threatening to cops. It will not protect them from racism. It will only leave them feeling lost and misunderstood. The only thing that will protect them is our collective action, we have to stand up and fight for racial justice.
As Zecharias Zelalem reminds us in his article, “Intertwined histories of the African American freedom struggle and Ethiopia’s war against fascism,” Black Americans rallied in support of Ethiopia in 1935 when news of an impending second Italian invasion first made the rounds. Our black brothers and sisters boycotted Italian products and organized protests, while the media portrayed them as a violent mob. According to newspaper clippings from the era, at least 1,500 Black Americans from Harlem alone and another 600 from Texas joined the Ethiopian resistance despite U.S. State Department’s opposition to citizens “fighting in foreign wars.”
Black Americans were there for us when we needed them. How can we, descendants of courageous men and women who fought against colonialist oppressors, remain silent in the face of these grave injustices and accept our position, as second-class citizens in this country? Ethiopians, and Habeshas as a whole, have a moral obligation they should own up to. As Ethiopian historian Bahru Zewde concluded: “Ethiopians should stand beside their African-American brothers and sisters in their struggle to achieve the equality and dignity that they so richly deserve.”
Benefiting from the Protests
Despite our silence, when unarmed Black men and women get killed, it’s Black protestors who put their lives on the line to inspire change for all of us. Furthermore, don’t forget that we are the beneficiaries of resources and opportunities that exist due to the fruits of generations of Black Americans’ personal sacrifices. You can come to America and attend schools to improve your life because Black people made sacrifices to desegregate our schools. Evermore, even though affirmative action is supposed to benefit Black Americans by tightening the education gap, most schools’ diversity quotas for Black students are filled by African immigrants. Even though we were never enslaved, we disproportionally benefit from affirmative action policies that were meant to provide reparations for Black students. Habeshas need to realize that we benefit from the current and historical sacrifices that Black people have made in the fight for racial justice. This is one of the many reasons why we should be out there fighting for racial justice, too.
Black IS Habesha
We may be Habesha, but we are also Black and we need to start treating Black Americans like kinfolk. I’m not mad at us self-segregating. This is a phenomenon that happens among every immigrant group that comes to the United States. What I am worried about, however, are the implications of our self-segregation. We cannot mitigate experiences with racism by staying in our Habesha spaces and using respectability politics to go unnoticed. Instead, Habeshas need to join Black Americans in advocating for their self-interest by getting involved in the battle for racial and economic justice.
My people, organize yourselves within your Habesha community and protest!
If your Habesha family is watching the news of the protests and they’re concerned about the riots but not the Black lives being lost, educate them. Help them realize that Black lives matter more than property and help them see the historical perspective of why we are out there protesting these grave injustices. Don’t wait until a Habesha gets killed to be outraged. Speak out now!
Not Everyone Has the Privilege to Protest
I recognize that not everyone can protest. People with accessibility issues are likely to struggle going out to protest. Immunocompromised people are likely to stay home amid this COVID pandemic. Immigrants with uncertain immigration status are not likely to go out to protest out of fear of deportation. Many factors can limit your chance to protest in person, but you can still contribute to this movement from home. Sign petitions, raise money, check on people who are protesting, get involved with an organization addressing the social detriments of health in communities of color, and talk to your friends and family about these issues. Inaction is not only accepting the status quo but being a part of the injustice. Get involved!
We Should Harness Pan Africanism to Counter Racism
As my brother Thaddeus Miles penned in “Open Letter to My Brothers,” “I am tired of the divide between Black people born in the United States and those who have immigrated here from various islands. We act as if we had a choice where the boat dropped us rather than acknowledge all of our ancestors were brought to foreign shores shackled. Being born in America has given us no greater privilege and speaking the language of another colonizing country will not ward off oppression. Being divided only fortifies the structure of inequality.”
As immigrants, we are so good at fitting in without making anyone feel uncomfortable. This has to stop! I want Habesha people to be outraged when unarmed Black men and women get killed in this country. I want us to stop being silent. I want you to protest. I want you to have uncomfortable conversations with all of your white friends. If you can’t have these conversations, they were never your friends, to begin with. If you are living in the United States, read up on Black history and inform yourself. Get involved in your non-Habesha community. Work to address the inequities in communities of color.
Ultimately, Habesha immigrants should use their Habesha identities as an anti-racist discourse rather than an exclusionist ideology. As Asante argued, we need to politicize the Black experience of African immigrants by connecting their ethnic identity to their racial identity. After all, even though African immigrants might enjoy upward mobility by ignoring racism or using it as a fuel for motivation, their descendants might not enjoy a similar status as they eventually get assimilated into the Black U.S. population. We can’t rely on our Habesha identity to protect us from racism, but we can address racism head-on by getting involved in the current fight for racial justice.
In the end, I want you to realize how damaging it is to hear: “You are not Black, you’re Ethiopian.”
After all, the police aren’t going to ask if you’re Habesha before they shoot you because they “feared for their life.”
I am Habesha AND Black.
BLACK LIVES MATTER
