The Context:
The 70s and 80s in Britain were a time of political turmoil and economic struggle. Many of us will have heard about the ‘Winter of Discontent’. At times of political discontent and financial struggle within a country, it is common for the population to look for people to blame for what they perceive to be the downfall of their country. It is no coincidence that at times of political unrest, we see that hostility and racism towards ethnic minorities increases. In the early 1970s, Britain saw the rise of the National Front which is a far-right, fascist political party in the UK that has never had its representatives elected to British Parliament nor European Parliament, but it still had and has supporters to this day. In 1972 the National Front began to focus on concern about South Asian migration to Britain, and its membership and vote share increased specifically in East London and Northern England. East London was where my family and many other South Asian families moved to, and many racists will have seen large numbers of ethnic minorities moving into the area as a threat to their ‘way of life’, whatever that means. The 70s were also a time that skinheads were commonly seen. These were “the sort of lads that used to congregate around the Bethnal Green Road end of pre-hipsterised Brick Lane selling National Front newspapers and shouting abuse at the local Bangladeshis.” (The Guardian, 2014)
The Discussion:
Whilst I had a set of prepared questions, the interview was very conversational, so this will not follow a typical ‘question and answer format’, instead I will write some direct quotes amongst a summary of the conversation.
Q.1 When were you first made aware that you were different; a minority, in the new country you found yourself living in?
My father was slightly taken aback by this question and remarked on how difficult this was to answer before telling me that it was “maybe when somebody asked me if I was a half-c****” when I was at school” at the age of about 9 or 10. I was shocked to even hear that someone would have used this term, especially at such a young age, highlighting how what is unacceptable now, was perfectly normal then, reminding me of a lyric from a song in Bend it Like Beckham: The Musical: “many acts which once were common, now are crimes”.
Q.2 What is one of your experiences of racism that is particularly poignant, or sticks out to you? Did you experience both physical and verbal racist abuse?
At the time, there was very little religious education and naturally many people knew very little or nothing at all about the Dastaar (turban), so acts of ignorance were not uncommon. My father recounted a story where once he was in his woodwork class at school and someone in his class hit him over the head with a hammer in the belief that his Pagh “would act as a crash helmet”. My Dad proceeded to say that he “managed to avoid getting attacked mainly by avoiding known dodgy places and being able to run well”. It was strange to me to even think that he had to consider his running ability for his own safety. He spoke of enduring “plenty of verbal abuse” and then “being spat at and shot at”. I was naturally surprised to hear that he had been “shot at” and asked him to tell me the story. It went as follows:
“I was at a train station, waiting for a train sitting down. Then I heard this twang go past my ear, and I thought…that’s a weird noise! It sounded like somebody was flicking a rubber band. There was nobody on the platform and nobody around. I looked over to where the shops were overlooking the station platform, and there was a guy with an air rifle pointing at me…I just moved away”. He didn’t report this to anyone.
One of the most upsetting instances for me to hear about that he told me was something that happened to him at school.
“I was at school waiting to go to class with all the other kids and there always used to be a crush in the corridor. Somebody’s hand reached over to my head and pulled my Pagh off, and they dropped it on the floor. I picked it up and went to the Secretary to re tie it” He spoke of obviously being “very upset and I probably did cry, although I can’t remember exactly” He told the school what happened but is unsure if they ever found out who did it.
Q.3 Were you ever embarrassed of your identity?
Talking about looking visibly different, he told me that “Wearing a turban because you stood out, you became a bit of a target. You got people’s attention easily”. When prompted, my Dad began to tell me about his Grandmother and the fact that wearing Indian clothes “was a bit taken the mick out of”, so he used to walk slightly in front of her to avoid being seen by the kids at his school. It is upsetting to know that fear of what other people might say or do meant that he did not feel comfortable with his own cultural identity in public. These same children he was afraid to see no doubt went on to be adults wanting to wear mehndi (henna) at music festivals and kaftans on holiday, not to mention probably ordering a weekly curry from their local Indian takeaway.
Q.4 How do you think your experience compares or compared to that of immigrants from other ethnicities?
My dad said that it was “probably mostly similar”, when comparing his experiences to that of his childhood best friend who is mixed-race; Jamaican and English.
With skin colour being one of the major reasons that people were subject to racism, my father spoke of how often having a completely different religion and being a Sikh who had kept his hair, looking visibly different both because of his Dastaar and his skin colour meant that he was made to feel less accepted than other ethnic minority groups at the time. So he and people who look liked him were more of a target. This is unsurprising when we consider the political context, knowing that the National Front was so popular at the time in their local area.
Closing remarks:
What my Dad perceived to be strange was that his experiences made him want to keep his identity even more. Even if he cut his hair to try and fit in, he spoke of the fact that he would be unable to change his skin colour, so he didn’t even consider cutting it. This is something that I think many turban-wearing Sikhs who grew up at a similar time in a similar place are likely to be able to relate to.