Can we recuperate identity politics?

by Amelia Mertha

If identity politics was ever revolutionary, can we recuperate its radical politics? Or are the original intentions of the term forever lost, obscured by neoliberal and right-wing misuse? Admittedly, 800 words could never do such a variously understood and messy concept justice so I want to frame this piece mostly within feminism, at the roots of the term. Active between 1974 and 1980, the Combahee River Collective (CRC) was a Black radical feminist organisation based out of Boston, USA. Of course notions of “identity”, whether individual or collective, within and for political action, existed far before their Combahee River Collective Statement (1977) but any critique against or in favour of identity politics, needs to engage with this piece of writing. It is believed that the phrase “identity politics” was first used in their 1977 statement:

This focusing upon our own oppression is embodied in the concept of identity politics. We believe that the most profound and potentially most radical politics come directly out of our own identity, as opposed to working to end somebody else’s oppression. In the case of Black women this is a particularly repugnant, dangerous, threatening, and therefore revolutionary concept because it is obvious from looking at all the political movements that have preceded us that anyone is more worthy of liberation than ourselves. The Combahee River Collective described their politics as anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist socialism, understanding that such a socialist revolution would also necessitate a feminist and anti-racist revolution. Their statement also tells us that, whilst flawed and not without internal issues, the CRC’s organising structure was based on a “collective process and a nonhierarchical distribution of power”. So then, identity politics in this key context was borne out of locating material, social and cultural oppression and violence in the lived experience of Black womanhood. It was vocalised as part of a critique of existing working-class and civil rights movements in which Black women were invisibilised by poorly analysed intersecting race, gender and class lines: “We realize that the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation are us.” In looking towards universal liberation, the CRC argued this was only possible in the liberation of Black womanhood (not an essentialist womanhood mind you).

I think in many ways the term has met a similar fate to the second-wave feminist slogan, “the personal is political” — meaning that the personal and private experiences of women (i.e. the domestic sphere) are rooted in misogyny and other oppressions but misconstrued by third-wave feminism to mean that any personal action is inherently political or politicised. Similarly, contemporary identity politics precludes keeping one’s identity to oneself where

Growing Strong the move to identify oneself — to say “I am” — is the bar for empowerment, apparently. Thus, unbalanced by an emphasis on “identity” over “politics”, identity politics may seem far too gone — arguably co-opted by neoliberal language, reductionist, dangerously removed of materiality and class analysis by people who claim to be in the left. This is to the point that “identity politics”, via Walter Benn Michael, is “not an alternative to class politics but a form of it: It’s the politics of an upper class that has no problem with seeing people being left behind as long as they haven’t been left behind because of their race or sex”.

Asad Haider notes, “there is a real political antagonism here between the emancipatory project of the CRC and contemporary identity politics, which are about individual recognition and recognition from the state”. From all corners of the political spectrum, identity politics (as it manifests without its CRC context) is considered as the driving force of representation politics that lauds women of colour (sometimes the “first” of their demographic) at the helm of violent imperialist projects, #girlboss lesbians and “authentic” representations in mega-media conglomerates. Here, identity politics = who has the right to speak at the right time. And yet, in expressing their identity politics and oppression under capitalism, the CRC wrote, “We reject pedestals, queenhood and walking ten paces behind.” In a 2019 New York Times op-ed, Barbara Smith, the founder of CRC and cited as the individual who coined “identity politics”, rejected the mainstream queer rights movement and its calls for marriage equality, gays in the military, and elitism. Smith highlights how persistent issues such as homelessness and food insecurity suggest that “political agendas focused on unquestioned assimilation” do not bring justice for all. Audre Lorde was also a member of the CRC for some time. In her piece “Age, Race, Class and Sex: Women Redefining Difference” Lorde noted that “unacknowledged class differences rob women of each others’ energy and creative insight”.

Claims that identity politics forces “tribalism” and fractures the left into in-groups (thus devastating any chance of the universal emancipation of the working class), appear antithetical to the intentions of Combahee River Collective’s term and praxis. Insofar as there isn’t really any instance, in their statement, that advocates liberation only for Black women by just Black women. We could/should actually interpret “the most profound and potentially most radical politics come directly out of our own identity” line as such:

• One’s identity is not the vehicle of one’s politics but a vehicle for relationality inside and outside the group • One’s identity is not essence/biology/“baby i was born this way”, instead one recognises how they are taxonimised (racialised, gendered, dis/abled) by the structures of capitalism Furthermore, “as opposed to working to end somebody else’s oppression” does not indicate a refusal to organise or act for others if we understand that Black women are not a monolith but are universally oppressed and disregarded. “Somebody else’s oppression” may necessarily still be something Black women, somewhere, experience. Their statement further describes how they grappled at one point with a “Lesbian-straight split but which were also the result of class and political differences” but rejected “the stance of Lesbian separatism because it [was] not viable political analysis or strategy” for their collective. The Combahee River Collective also note that “as BIack women we find any type of biological determinism a particularly dangerous and reactionary basis upon which to build a politic”. “Depending on who you ask, our Women’s Collective either is or is not identity politics at play, and, again depending on who you ask, that is either a good or a bad thing. WoCo rejects any notion of an essential womanhood: anyone who is not a cisgendered man, not just cis and trans women, can be a member of WoCo. This is part of our autonomous organising strategy — less about excluding cis men and more about centring those most materially affected by the colonialpatriarchy in our organising. In fact, as my co-convenor Kimmy reminds me, “we want to visualise our own liberation but don’t want to and can’t do it ourselves” — the wider community is always called upon for action.

So I ask again, if identity politics was ever revolutionary, can we recuperate its radical politics? But then also, do we actually need to recuperate its radical politics or is this a dead-end and — as Robin D G Kelley gently alludes to — a misplaced priority over anti-capitalist and working class movements if class is not part of the identity question? (I think it should be) As feminists, how do we best enact and grow forms of care and accountability across strongly-formed identity lines? Is it naive of me to think that perhaps the issue of people on the left refusing to participate across identity lines,enacting some kind of oppression Olympics (where class is often forgotten), is a “them” problem and not an identity politics problem? We know that successful working class movements have needed to blur boundaries and form solidarity across identity lines. This is sometimes half of the struggle but is the only way we’ll have a revolution. The CRC’s identity politics is absolutely not the only tool offered for analysing and organising around oppression, towards universal liberation. They offered a politics very specific to Black women’s lived experiences, championing the collective over competition and inspiring their on-theground work and education: “we know that we have a very definite revolutionary task to perform and we are ready for the lifetime of work and struggle before us”. The answers to these questions might not come easy, but I encourage us to sit in the discomfort that we all have so much to learn.

Photo: Verso