In We Who are Dark: The
Philosophical Foundations of Black Cultural Solidarity, Tommie Shelby
appeals to blacks to come together under the banner of a "Pragmatic Black
Solidarity" to overcome anti-black racism and social injustice for blacks
in the United States. The distinguishing feature of his form of solidarity is
that it entails no commitment to any positive notion of black identity or to
black culture.  To highlight its uniqueness, Shelby contrasts his model of
solidarity to that proposed by "classical nationalism."

Shelby lists eight tenets of black
cultural nationalism: the claim to a distinct black culture, a call to reclaim,
preserve and actively reproduce this culture, along with commercial and
interpretative rights over its products; the demand for government support and
recognition of black cultural contributions and the significance of community
for black self-esteem, economic prosperity and emancipation from anti-black
forms of racism. Shelby subsequently challenges each tenet with criticisms that
range from questioning the coherence of a "unitary black plural subject"
and the reification of race as the ground for black identity, to the legitimacy
of black cultural exclusivity. But his principal problem with black nationalism
is its demand that blacks feel an obligation to identify with, reclaim,
preserve and belong to a distinct black culture. "The trouble with the
position under consideration is not that blacks are not a people but rather
that it does not follow that blacks have a duty to embrace black culture
simply because they are racially black" (175). 

 On Shelby’s model of pragmatic
solidarity blacks are to come together strictly on the basis of their shared
experiences as "victims of anti-black racial oppression" (238).
Shelby makes no pretense of hiding the fact that his call for solidarity is
based in victimhood. "[R]acial blackness should be understood in terms of
one’s vulnerability to anti-black racism" and only that (251). Vulnerability
to anti-black produces empathy and a "mutual identification and special
concern among blacks" to eradicate all forms of racial injustice. Once
this task is accomplished blacks are then free to disband (241-242). However,
Shelby’s call for unity might benefit from bell hooks’ observation of how the
white feminist movement’s emphasis on victimization excludes women who refuse
to conceive of themselves as victims and "directly reflects male
supremacist thinking" by teaching women to be victims ( bell hooks, Feminist
Theory (Boston: South End Press,  1984) pg. 45).  Does Shelby really want
to suggest that blacks identify as victims and unite solely on the basis of victimhood?

On the other hand, the desire to
preserve and support black culture is not contrary to his model of pragmatic black
nationalism. Shelby’s claim is simply that organizing as a black to fight against
racial injustice does not entail a commitment to a black cultural identity and,
likewise, engaging with black culture does not require blacks to identify it as
exclusively one’s own. Rather, black culture may and should be seen as a
collective good that belongs to society at large. But interestingly, in his
struggle to free black solidarity from black cultural identity, Shelby assumes
the very thing he is struggling so hard to free blacks from: black culture.
What then is black culture? According to "racist ideology," Shelby
notes, "blacks have no worthwhile culture of their own–neither past nor
present" (168).  In his constant and relentless call to "abandon"
the "misleading discourse" of classical nationalism with its emphasis
on "cultural purity and distinctiveness" might Shelby’s "thin"
notion of black identity be threatening the very status of black culture
itself?

I would suggest, to the contrary,
that a primary objective of Shelby’s book is, ironically, to fix and solidify a
conception of black culture precisely by challenging whether or not it is
obligatory for blacks to identify with such a culture. In saying that blacks
need not feel the "duty" to identify with black culture, Shelby
commits himself to the very existence of black culture. However, this is a
difficult line for him to hold, as Shelby believes that blacks are a people "tied
by the stigma of race–but not a cohesive cultural or national unit"
(252).  "In fact," he states, "what is culturally black is one
of the most contested issues within the greater black population" (224).
Yet, what arises from his attack against the eight tenets of black nationalism
is a list of positive concessions that all lead toward securing the boundaries
of black culture.

"Even if," Shelby
concedes, "the fate of black culture should rest largely in black hands,
this would not, by itself, entail a duty on the part of blacks to embrace a
black cultural identity." (172).  And, "even if we accept" that
blacks had a more significant role in creating various cultural artifacts and
practices, for example jazz and slang, "this would not entail that blacks
have an obligation to perpetuate black culture," etc. (171). Indeed,
Shelby is adamant about defending the integrity of black culture, albeit from
his own unique perspective. "Granted, if black culture were to come under
unjustified siege or suppression…then there arguably would be an obligation
on the part of blacks to act to preserve it[.]" (172) But significantly,
the preservation of black culture by blacks does not arise from any
identification with black culture. "Here the obligation to keep black
culture alive would spring from the obligation to resist the injustice of
cultural intolerance." (172) 

In fact, Shelby is not interested
in the ongoing practice of black cultural life or in the fruits of what black
culture may deliver in the future, but in the preservation of what blacks have
already contributed to culture up to date. Indeed, it appears Shelby does not
just borrow the notion of the "talented tenth" from Du Bois, whom he
engages along with Delany in the first half of his book, but also Du Bois’ fear
that blacks will not be deemed equal members of the world community until they
have contributed to the stock of world culture. The duty to preserve black
culture, as with the duty to bring forth social justice, Shelby argues, falls
upon the "black elites," but not without qualification.

Shelby takes heed of the black
power movement’s distrust and fear of the cooptation of black elites by white
power structures. Tempering his belief that "it is imperative that
more-affluent blacks extend special concern to the least advantaged," is
the recognition that this elite be accountable to black communities. (246). But
the black power movement did not only fear the corruption of black elites, they
had a suspicion of the very institutions of power that these elites were
appealing to. Indeed, the black power movement’s primary realization was that
there is a direct parallel between black political struggles in the United
States and anti-colonial liberation struggles around the world, a fact Shelby
notes but gives little credence to. Believing that freedom for blacks in the
United States is integrally bound to the condition of those who are dark
living around the world, black power called for an international solidarity
among all oppressed people of color. While Shelby’s argument that black
solidarity need not entail a commitment to black identity or culture is
theoretically sound, well argued and well written, it fails practically as it
does not engage the real problematic posed by classic black nationalism of
whether or not, in the words of Audre Lorde: "the master’s tools" can
ever "dismantle the master’s house[?]"

© 2006 Sharin N. Elkholy

Sharin N. Elkholy, Ph.D., teaches
Philosophy and Women’s Studies at Hunter College in New York.  Her areas of
specialization are 19^th – 20^th Century Continental
Philosophy with a strong interest in Gender and Race Theory. Currently she is
completing an article on Authenticity in the Films of Martin Scorsese for the
upcoming Philosophy and Popular Culture series, Scorsese and Philosophy
(University Press of Kentucky).  

Categories: Psychology