Kamala Harris of California
Learning from Covid that life may be enjoyed a day at a time, I rejoice at recent news from three different parts of the world.
One, Israel’s “suspension” (as part of a deal with the UAE and perhaps with Saudi Arabia) of its plans to annex more parts of Palestine.
Two, the puncturing, at least for the time being, of the BJP’s dream of bringing down the Congress ministry in Rajasthan, one of a handful of India’s states where opposition parties are still in power.
And three, the nomination in the U.S. of the Senator from California, Kamala Harris, as Joe Biden’s running mate and the Democratic Party’s vice-presidential candidate. All of these developments merit savoring, but I want to stay with Kamala Harris.
Hardly surprisingly, Trump wants Americans to doubt the Senator’s American-ness. Born in Oakland, California, of a father migrating from Jamaica and a mother migrating from South India, Kamala was raised, after her parents separated, by mother Shyamala (clearly a remarkable woman) as a Black child.
This too is no surprise, for the histories of Jamaica, slavery, and African Americans merge into a single stream. For example, Marcus Garvey (1887-1940), a great star in America’s fight for racial equality, was born in Jamaica.
As African American as she is American, Senator Harris is also an Asian-American -- she is half Tamil. The pleasure of Tamils in Tamil Nadu and elsewhere at her nomination as vice-president will erupt into joy if the Biden-Harris ticket wins in November -- and into wild joy if, as is possible, she becomes President one day.
Harris’s nomination and Trump’s now-fierce-now-devious opposition to her reveal the clash between America’s changing and diehard halves.
At the centre of the clash are the distinct yet joined notions of equality and a common humanity. Do all souls have equal value? Are all the world’s peoples linked together by their humanity?
Or does race, caste and religion make a basic difference, entitling a government (and society) to give people unequal treatment? To, for example, protect whites more willingly or vigorously than blacks? Or Hindus more than Muslims? Men more than women? High castes more than low castes and outcastes? Non-tribals more than tribals?
If Obama’s victories in 2008 and 2012 suggested that Americans were voting for equality, Trump’s 2016 win showed that domination retained its appeal, that equality could be portrayed as an attack on national pride.
Now in 2020, aware of humanity’s steady if often bumpy journey towards equality, men like Trump combine their support of a white nationalist America with ploys to divide the opposition. Trump’s son-in-law and key adviser Jared Kushner has just met Kanye West, the celebrity rapster and fashion designer, in what is being seen as an attempt to get West to run as an independent in battleground states for siphoning off some of Biden’s Black votes.
“It’s great that Kanye wants his voice heard,” says Trump.
Will every American’s voice be heard in November? Will Trump allow the flow and counting of mailed-in ballots? Questions never before asked about U.S. elections are on many tongues today. But so is delight at the nomination of Kamala Harris, a conspicuous step in the continuing process of defining an American and the meaning of America.
