Blackwashing Empire - MBEs, OBEs, CBEs, and How the Monarchy Co-Opts Black Leaders by Jacob
This article has been published using a pseudonym to protect the identity of the writer and of those referenced in the article.
Introduction
“The only great men among the unfree and the oppressed are those who struggle to destroy the oppressor. ”
As a young activist entering the charity sector after leaving university, I believed that my career could serve my community - that I could use my skills, knowledge, and education to uplift young Black people, providing something with genuine quality and tangible value.
However, I remained healthily sceptical of a sector that, deep down, I knew operated underneath a political glass ceiling - considering it required pandering not only to the political sensibilities of trusts, foundations and funders, but also (even worse) the political sensibilities of the general public, in order to fundraise and continue to exist.
Despite this scepticism, I was still surprised when I walked into my office on Day 1, and one of the first things I saw was a framed photo of one of the co-founders greeting Queen Elizabeth. These same leaders, I understood to be influenced by the same Black radical scholars that I was, felt entirely comfortable not only shaking hands with the figurehead of a bloodied, racist institution, but proudly displaying it on their wall.
Since then, I have met and encountered many more Black non-profit leaders, who make proclamations of ‘bringing down Babylon’, repost images of Malcolm X on his birthday, and claim their work challenges systemic racism, whilst still insisting on carrying the Empire with their name - MBE, OBE, CBE. A quick search on LinkedIn for ‘OBE’, scrolling through only 10 pages, drew up 29 Black charity and third sector leaders and ‘EDI’ professionals, who have all accepted this royal honour.
I will attempt, in this paper, to analyse the reasons cited for the acceptance of these honours; to examine the problems that these patterns of logic present; and to understand the cognitive dissonance between those claiming to act on behalf of the Black community while accepting Royal honours.
There are various positions I’ve seen Black charity leaders advocate for regarding the acceptance of these honours, but they can be summarised in three main categories - royalists, reformists, and ‘activists’.
Royalists
Firstly, there are those who feel a genuine pride in being part of the British royal ranks and see it entirely positively. They believe that the new, seemingly diverse, ranks of the British Empire represent real progress by the monarchy towards decolonising on an institutional level - if they even go so far as to suggest decolonisation is necessary.
This view is characterised by an opt-in delusion, a selective perception, largely motivated by self-interest. This group are essentially the ‘clingy friend’ to the Empire - incessantly seeking validation, volunteering themselves tirelessly as proponents for British nationalist propaganda, desperate to fit in, and embarrassingly dancing around the fact that they simply aren’t welcome.
Reformists
Secondly, there are reformists - those who acknowledge, to an extent, that the history of the British monarchy and Empire is violent and racist - but claim ‘we can’t change the room unless we are in it’. Their view is that they plan to use their position in the honorary ranks of the British Empire to ‘change it from within’, but it’s impossible to do this without a ‘seat at the table’, etc. Reformists might advocate for ‘representation’ as a benefit of having more Black leaders with OBEs, MBEs, and CBEs, arguing that if we can ‘see’ Black people in Buckingham Palace or similar institutions of ‘high society,’ this will inspire others to work hard and believe they can achieve the same success themselves. I recently saw a lengthy defence of an acceptance with this argument articulated extensively.
These deeply liberal stances, steeped in self-indulgence and the typical ‘Black Excellence’ capitalist rhetoric, suggest that individuals have the power to single-handedly change the untenable conditions of the most vulnerable in their community, without the power of this community’s support.
Capitalism and liberalism are ultimately the driving forces behind these individualistic thought patterns; this saviourism in reformist attitudes ultimately stems from a view of the Empire and its institutions as something to aspire towards rather than abolish. Similarly to the Afrikan national bourgeoisie that emerged in various countries across Afrika during the process of decolonisation in the 1960s, on which Fanon has written extensively**, this group tends towards collaborating with the oppressor, and replicating the modes and methods of imperialism as their blueprint for success - claiming to act in the will of the people, whilst conveniently installing themselves in positions of power, wealth, luxury, and excess. ‘Representation’ within the British Empire cannot co-exist with decoloniality.
‘Activists’
Thirdly, there are those with activist backgrounds - they tend to be more honest about the violent history of the British Empire, recognising that the Empire is incompatible with their values. Perhaps they have even built a career from advocating against it - they may feel ashamed to be associated with the Empire, and upon acceptance, some of these people may not even sign their name with their title. However, they believe that the ‘material gains’ these titles bring for our community outweigh the moral compromise their acceptance entails. The material gains they cite are often genuine and sizable, including funding, resources, and access to rooms of High-Net-Worth-Individuals, who could transform an organisation's capacity overnight.
It would be simplistic to suggest that this group has entirely neglected the ideas which they have always championed. Many of these activists have navigated unspeakably tough and challenging conditions, remained principled through decades of struggle, made vast contributions to activism, and consistently supported the most vulnerable racialised people in the United Kingdom. However, their argument contains a glaring logical fallacy.
This view emphasises the ‘resources’ these honours bring, and argues that the cons of accepting them are largely academic, reducing the consequences of accepting royal honours to the three letters that come with them, and sometimes emphasising this as a ‘personal sacrifice’ to their own name and reputation, for the greater good of their community.
Within this framing, on one hand, the decision has a profoundly positive material impact, such that this grave moral compromise becomes justified; on the other hand, the decision is purportedly devoid of a negative material impact. Whilst the decision is acknowledged as a compromise or means to an end, this compromise is made abstract, intellectual, and rhetorical.
However, if they are right, and we do need these resources and material gains for our charities to survive, what does that mean for our future? What does it mean for our community to depend on selling its dignity to survive in a capitalist society? And what impact does this have on our liberation?
Far more than just an abstraction, the material exchange these titles bring allows us to be bought, used and manipulated by the Empire, in exchange for the resources our community needs to clean up after it. The Empire is not charitable, and they do not give away resources for free - every exchange has a cost. The cost here is control. For every Black leader that enters the ranks of the British Empire, they gain power over us, as they attempt to gaslight our community about what they represent. It’s simple - if we are focused on the Black faces kneeling to the sword, we won’t pay attention to the stolen jewels that adorn the King’s crown.
Thomas Sankara said in 1984 that
“he who feeds you also imposes his will.”
In this sense, the logic of these ‘activists’ lulls us into being led by the will of our oppressors, rather than the will of our people. As is currently demonstrated by the Alliance of Sahel States, building true power requires cutting all ties with our colonisers.
In his text ‘Settlers’, J. Sakai said the following
“Amerika is so decadent that it has no proletariat of its own, but must exist parasitically on the colonial proletariat of oppressed nations and national minorities.***”
Sakai extended a similar logic to the United Kingdom in his text, drawing upon Engels’ observations of the emerging reactionary British industrial proletariat in the 19th century, and their persisting relevance. We can use this analysis to understand how the re-appropriation of wealth and power through decades of imperialism has created a large labour aristocracy within the UK, whereby working-class people in this country benefit hugely from the exploitation of workers in the Global South.
This has created conditions where the intellectual leaders of our community - even those who have spent their lives fighting against the state and/or supporting those who have borne the brunt of its violent mechanics - willingly accept lucrative titles, positions, and funding at the expense of our people’s moral values. Despite their purported intentions, the end cannot justify the means if the means compromise the end.
Conclusion
It’s important to acknowledge that many Black non-profit leaders did not start their journey in the charity sector - like many activists within the sector, they began in grassroots organising, and have changed the nature of their operation, whether to deliver more comprehensive support, or simply to sustain themselves financially. Somewhere within this process, as global wealth inequality grows wider along the lines of international imperialist division, the motivation for many Black leaders’ decision-making has become corrupted.
This discourse is incomplete without acknowledging the many Black leaders who have remained principled and declined these honours. For this, they have gained the recognition and respect of the communities they serve, far more valuable than that of wealthy capitalists and royals.
As the Empire scrambles desperately to wash itself clean of the blood of Africa, Asia and the Third World, by ‘Blackwashing’ its honorary ranks - we cannot let them succeed. Rather than depending on executives in the UK’s charity sector, we must refocus our attention towards the nations of colonised people presently struggling against imperialism.
No amount of pretending or pandering will change the putrid and heinous reality of the British Empire—400+ years of colonialism, violence, brutality, white supremacy, racism, genocide and terror. The unassailable fact, the unspeakable detail, and the continuous impact of our people’s suffering leave no room for reform or reprieve - imperialism must end, and the Empire must be wholly condemned.
* Walter Rodney, ‘How Europe Underdeveloped Africa’
** Frantz Fanon - Wretched Of The Earth - Chapter 3, ‘The Pitfalls of National Consciousness’
*** J. Sakai, ‘Settlers’, Chapter 1 - ‘The Heart of Whiteness’