My political awakening began in the summer of 1968, when I was 10. Robert Kennedy had just been assassinated after winning the California primary. My father, a union representative and Kennedy backer in Detroit, was upset. I didn’t really understand much about presidential politics, but my education began. “Can a black man ever become the president?” I remember asking, somewhat innocently. My father thought for a while and then replied: “Not in my lifetime. But it will probably happen in your lifetime. You’ll live to see it.” My dad died last year. And every day this year, since I’ve watched in wonderment at the unlikely ascent of Barack Obama — as a candidate, as the Democratic Party nominee and now within reach of the White House — I keep thinking back to that conversation 40 years ago and wishing my dad had lived just a little bit longer to see progress that he only dreamed was possible.
My father grew up in the segregated south, in Charleston, under Jim Crow laws that didn’t allow blacks to vote. He left as a young man, primarily so his children would have more opportunities, all the opportunities that America had to offer. And despite the racism he saw and experienced, he never lost his faith in that American dream. “You can be anything you want to be,” was his constant refrain to me. I became a journalist. After my stint in Africa in the mid-1990s, covering the genocide in Rwanda, the famine in Somalia and seeing corruption, poverty and lack of basic human rights, I came away feeling blessed that I was born a black man in America, with all the opportunities and hopes that implied.
But it was in Europe, where I lived for five years from 2000 to 2005, that I really came to appreciate that the ideal of opportunity for all was indeed something uniquely American. Based in Paris, I had the brief to roam around the Continent and what struck me is how multiracial and multicultural Europe had become. And what I noticed soon after was how resistant European attitudes still were toward their black and brown residents.
Paris is a multicolored city — black Africans, North Africans, Asians, Turks and others. But black and brown faces are largely invisible in the top ranks of business, media and politics. France has about six million North African Muslims from its former colonies and another 2.5 million sub-Saharan black Africans, although the numbers are disputed since the government’s official policy of égalité dictates that even counting people by race would be discriminatory. But what’s not in dispute are the visible facts; out of 577 members of the National Assembly, there are no black or brown faces other than those representing the overseas territories.
Germany is home to some three million Muslims, mostly from Turkey, but only a couple are in Parliament. The Netherlands and Sweden are slightly more encouraging — Sweden has members of Parliament who trace their origins to Egypt, Eritrea and Congo.
Britain has fared better in terms of raw numbers. But leaders of Operation Black Vote, a political mobilization group, told me Parliament would not be truly representative until there were 50 to 60 minority members, representing Britain’s 10 percent minority population.
So it’s difficult, if not impossible, to imagine a Barack Obama emerging in Europe soon.
One reason is that Europeans for the most part do not talk about race and race relations as openly as we do. In America, we wallow in it. We self-analyze and form committees, workshops and seminars to talk about it. There are countless organizations and associations dedicated to racial issues. Bookshops stack shelves talking about our racial history and problems. We take measurements of pretty much everything, from black student school test scores to minority living standards. What’s more, many Europeans can’t even bring themselves to call their minority residents what they are — citizens. They are still often referred to as “immigrants” or “outsiders,” even if they were born in the country, speak no other language, know no other home.
A European Obama seems unlikely to emerge soon because of the parliamentary systems in place, in which a newcomer to politics has first to find his way on to a party list and work his or her way up through the ranks. In Obama’s case, this newcomer leapfrogged far more experienced and better-known candidates — think Hillary Clinton — to take his case directly to voters in primary states. A year ago, no one would have predicted that a black candidate would become the nominee of a major party and have a more than realistic chance of winning the White House on Nov. 4. And it’s a testament to Obama’s considerable skill that he has largely managed to make his race an afterthought.
But black Americans are still pinching themselves, still not quite able to believe what has been achieved. And all Americans should pause from the heated political rhetoric and reflect on the sense of accomplishment, win or lose, that his candidacy represents — an affirmation of that American ideal.
I think back to my father, who suffered terrible racism in the south, still believing for his son: “You can be anything you want to be.” That means any little boy can even dream of being President. And that really is only in America.
