SIXTY years ago yesterday, 69 peaceful protesters were murdered by South African Police in the South African township of Sharpeville.
Around 6000 protesters had gathered that day outside the local municipal offices to protest against the imposition of the apartheid-era “pass laws” which required all black men and women to carry pass books at all times.
These documents contained personal details including name, tax code and employer details, and had recently been extended to all black women as well as men as a means to restrict the movement of South Africa’s black population in “white” areas of the country.
Anyone found in a public place without their book could be arrested and imprisoned for up to 30 days.
The protest was intended to be the first of a five-day, non-violent campaign by black Africans to persuade the government in Pretoria to abolish these racist laws. Speaking after the event, and in the aftermath of these state-sponsored murders, the local police commander chillingly said, “It started when hordes of natives surrounding the police station. If they do these things, they must learn their lessons the hard way.”
In commemoration of this terrible event, the United Nations adopted the March 21 as the annual International Day for the Elimination of Religious Discrimination in 1966.
To recognise this, MPs from all parties joined in a parliamentary debate yesterday to discuss the issue. It was an emotional and inspiring discussion.
While the Sharpeville Massacre took place a generation and a half a world away, the issue of racism is still one we need to continually address in modern Scotland.
My own experience is a case in point.
When growing up in Edinburgh, I clearly and vividly remember the spectre of racist bullying that hung over my days as a mixed-race child attending an overwhelmingly white primary school. I remember people asking me where I was from, and then asking where I was really from? I can still hear the nasty comments - “paki”, “blackjack”, “sambo” – sometimes whispered, sometimes yelled threateningly in my face. I can still feel the blows from the fists and feet of my fellow pupils who stole my lunch or playtime snack.
I suffered in silence for years because the last thing that I wanted was for my late father, who came to live in London then Edinburgh from Pakistan, to think that the abuse I experienced was in any way his fault. I could not bear to think that he would be called to the school and feel in any way embarrassed by his own background and birthplace.
Years later I can reflect on how this experience has shaped my worldview. Because I started off in life being told by a racist minority that I was inferior and unworthy, throughout my working life I’ve always felt a personal need to work harder than others in order to prove my worth.
More recently following my election to Parliament, the spectre of racism has risen again.
Only a few days ago on Twitter I was told to “go back to where I come from” by one racist critic, and labelled a “traitor” and “oxygen thief” by another.
While Scotland’s record of tackling racism over recent years has been positive – there were fewer racist incidents reported last year than any year since 2003/4 – this despicable behaviour is once again on the rise in other parts of the UK and across the world.
In my experience this contemporary abuse is more likely to be focused on religion and not the colour of your skin, but it is no less pernicious.
While in my youth looking different from your fellow pupils meant that in in their eyes you were somehow inferior, nowadays there are increasing numbers who believe that to follow Islam equates to following evil, and that my fellow Muslims are a danger to others and the wider society around us.
These days the abuse I face as a mixed-race Muslim woman does not equate to the horrors the families of those 69 victims of the Sharpeville Massacre faced six decades ago.
But it’s vital that as we look to challenge modern-day racism we remember the sacrifice paid by those who came before us, who lost their lives while challenging the injustices of a racist society.
As we ready ourselves to meet the challenges of the increasing wave of Islamophobia and institutional racism that is once again on the rise, we owe them all a massive debt.
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