Shabana Mahmood's Fable: The Allure of Anti-Immigrant Sentiment
As the UK's newest Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood has embarked on a campaign that justifies her own asylum crackdown policy through an origin story born from her immigrant and racialized experience. With this narrative, she seeks to imbue her politics with sacred authenticity - the credibility of the first person. But beneath her compelling tale lies a cynical and disappointing reality.
Mahmood's "I am the child of immigrants" begins her fable, but soon veers into portraying immigration as tearing the country apart. Her proposed policies aim to deport UK-born children who have known no life elsewhere, leaving refugees without support, tear families apart, punish those legally in the country for claiming benefits, and create a long and arduous process for settlement and security.
Critics argue that her logic is flawed but that her story helps to sell such policies. She emphasizes that as an immigrant herself, she understands what racism and xenophobia look like - particularly when too many rights are given to immigrants and asylum seekers. However, this narrative blurs the line between victimhood and authority, utilizing identity politics for personal gain rather than challenging racism.
Her conversion to anti-immigration advocacy is not a genuine evolution but a convenient move that catapults her into the ranks of prominent politicians like Suella Braverman and Priti Patel. This strategic pivot brings excitement from those who see her as a hard woman with conviction-driven politics - Michael Gove's enthusiasm being a prime example.
The allure of Mahmood's story lies in its ability to shift public perception, making the problem seem more about resentment and racism triggered by immigration rather than addressing deeper issues like economic failure, cultural capitulation, and far-right rise. Her tale allows us to believe that a country with endemic scarcity and inequality can be solved simply by curbing immigration.
Ultimately, Mahmood's fable highlights a worrying trend in late-stage identity politics where victim narratives are used to uphold authority rather than challenge systemic issues. Her rise serves as a reminder of the dangers of using identity for personal gain while downplaying the complexities of real-world problems.
As the UK's newest Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood has embarked on a campaign that justifies her own asylum crackdown policy through an origin story born from her immigrant and racialized experience. With this narrative, she seeks to imbue her politics with sacred authenticity - the credibility of the first person. But beneath her compelling tale lies a cynical and disappointing reality.
Mahmood's "I am the child of immigrants" begins her fable, but soon veers into portraying immigration as tearing the country apart. Her proposed policies aim to deport UK-born children who have known no life elsewhere, leaving refugees without support, tear families apart, punish those legally in the country for claiming benefits, and create a long and arduous process for settlement and security.
Critics argue that her logic is flawed but that her story helps to sell such policies. She emphasizes that as an immigrant herself, she understands what racism and xenophobia look like - particularly when too many rights are given to immigrants and asylum seekers. However, this narrative blurs the line between victimhood and authority, utilizing identity politics for personal gain rather than challenging racism.
Her conversion to anti-immigration advocacy is not a genuine evolution but a convenient move that catapults her into the ranks of prominent politicians like Suella Braverman and Priti Patel. This strategic pivot brings excitement from those who see her as a hard woman with conviction-driven politics - Michael Gove's enthusiasm being a prime example.
The allure of Mahmood's story lies in its ability to shift public perception, making the problem seem more about resentment and racism triggered by immigration rather than addressing deeper issues like economic failure, cultural capitulation, and far-right rise. Her tale allows us to believe that a country with endemic scarcity and inequality can be solved simply by curbing immigration.
Ultimately, Mahmood's fable highlights a worrying trend in late-stage identity politics where victim narratives are used to uphold authority rather than challenge systemic issues. Her rise serves as a reminder of the dangers of using identity for personal gain while downplaying the complexities of real-world problems.