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Htriv

At htriv social death outweighs


Jared Sexton, Associate professor of African American studies and film and media studies at the
University of California, Irvine, 2010, The Curtain of the Sky: An Introduction,
http://crs.sagepub.com/content/36/1/11.full.pdf
This is why his moments of analytic generalization in the name of global justice contrast with efforts in The Lived Experience of the Black and
The Black and Psychopathology to discern the difference between the lethal dynamics of modern anti-Semitism and negrophobia in the long
history of European colonial enterprise. Discerning does not mean disconnecting, however, for Fanons point, if convoluted at times, regards the
complex interrelations between manifestations of racism within an overarching social structure.1 In Chapter Five of Black Skin,
Fanon writes, for instance, that the anti-Semite is inevitably a negrophobe, but not that the negrophobe is
inevitably an anti-Semite (Fanon 2008: 101).The unidirectional nature of this link would seem to be a corollary
of the hierar- chical discrepancy in racist culture between the Jew and the black in the field of vision.
Whereas the Jewishness of the Jew...can go unnoticed and his acts and behaviors are the determining
factor, the black is not given a second chance because she is, in the famous
formulation,overdetermined from without...slave not to the idea others have of [her], but to [her]
appearance (Fanon 2008: 95). The hyper-visibility of the black is an effect of the sheer corporeality attributed
to the black in the racist imagination, the over-presence of her tangible personality or actual being. Fanon writes: The Negro
symbolizes the biological (Fanon2008:144), where the projective evacuation of biological existence from
certain Western philosophical conceptions of intelligence denigrates the body as a permanent threat to the
continuity of reason.

Their rhetoric of oppression Olympics is a strategy of white supremacy
Jared Sexton, Associate professor of African American studies and film and media studies at the
University of California, Irvine, 2010, People-of-Color-Blindness; Notes on the Afterlife of Slavery,
http://socialtext.dukejournals.org/content/28/2_103/31.full.pdf
If the oppression of nonblack people of color in, and perhaps beyond, the United States seems conditional to
the historic instance and functions at a more restricted empirical scope, antiblackness seems invariant and limitless
(which does not mean that the former is somehow negligible and short-lived or that the latter is exhaustive and unchanging). If pursued with
some consistency, the sort of comparative analysis outlined above would likely impact the formulation of
political strategy and modify the demeanor of our political culture. In fact, it might denature the comparative instinct altogether in favor of
a relational analysis more adequate to the task. Yet all of this is obviated by the silencing mechanism par excellence in
Left political and intellectual circles today: Dont play Oppression Olympics! The Oppression
Olympics dogma levels a charge amounting to little more than a leftist version of playing the race card.
To fuss with details of comparative (or relational) analysis is to play into the hands of divide-and-conquer
tactics and to promote a callous immorality. 72 However, as in its conservative complement, one notes in this catchphrase the
unwarranted translation of an inquiring position of comparison into an insidious posture of competition, the translation of ethical critique into
unethical attack. This point allows us to understand better the intimate relationship between the censure of black inquiry and the recurrent
analogizing to black suffering mentioned above: they bear a common refusal to admit to significant differences of
structural position born of discrepant histories between blacks and their political allies, actual or potential.
We might, finally, name this refusal people-of-color-blindness, a form of colorblindness inherent to the concept
of people of color to the precise extent that it misunderstands the specificity of antiblackness and
presumes or insists upon the mono - lithic character of victimization under white supremacy 73 thinking
(the afterlife of) slavery as a form of exploitation or colonization or a species of racial oppression among
others.
1nr stuff
Extend the settler colonialism link the affirmative just misses the boat no
argument here the only thing the 2ac talks about the way she is oppressed without
talking about her own privilege first the fact that she is living on stolen land
prerequisite to any sort of liberatory politics Vaid-Menon and Balasubrimanian
Must confront your own privledge as an oppressor too
Kahina, Nuunja, 13 (Nuunja Kahina is an Amazigh student and activist living in the United States who
writes occassionally for Intercontinental Cry, This Is Africa, and Decolonization, INDIGENOUS
SETTLER? DECOLONIZATION AND THE POLITICS OF EXILE,
https://intercontinentalcry.org/indigenous-settler-decolonization-and-the-politics-of-exile/)

What are the obligations of Indigenous people living as settlers on another Indigenous peoples stolen land? I have been wrestling with this
question as an Amazigh (Indigenous North African) activist living and working in a settler colony, the United States, on land belonging to other
Indigenous nations. Based on the conceptions of colonialism, liberation, and sovereignty that I utilize to understand my own experience, I also
understand that I am a settler on occupied Native land. Being a person of color, a Muslim, or an
immigrant does not negate ones settler status in the Americas, as other women of color and Indigenous
women have described. But what if youre an Indigenous activist yourself, living in exile and unable to return to your own land base?
What does that entail, especially for ones activism? In the way people identify, there is a difference between being a person of color and being
Indigenous. The term people of color was developed and used by racial justice activists themselves and intended to provide a site of solidarity
between racial and ethnic minorities for resisting a hegemonic white supremacist nation-state such as the United States. This is supposed to
include Indigenous groups, but the oppressions that American Indians face are quite distinct from those of other
people of color, as Andrea Smith has pointed out. Settler colonialism and racism are different processes, albeit with
a complicated relationship. This is one reason that Indigenous groups sometimes dont consider
themselves people of color their primary relationship to the settler state is as an Indigenous person
with a certain connection to their land base. Settlers of color, like their white counterparts, engage in the
oppression of Indigenous peoples. Even the successes of people of color in the United States or Canada
such as assimilating into dominant capitalist structures, as CEOs or other executives happen at the expense of American Indians
by further entrenching settler colonialism. Instead of working to attain success by joining and normalizing
dominant settler society, people of color must work towards justice through decolonization and reflect on their
own status in a settler colony built on violence against Indigenous peoples. As an Indigenous person who is not
Native to the Americas but has an active consciousness of indigeneity, my situation is somewhat different from other settlers of color. The
struggle Im engaged in for my people, the Imazighen, is opposing the processes of Arab colonialism entrenched in North, yet Im doing this
work from a settler colony. I certainly didnt choose to come to the United States, but I directly benefit from the dispossession of American
Indian nations. I am able to attain an education and pursue my goals including activism for the Amazigh nation because I live in a Western
settler colony built on the genocide(s) of American Indian peoples. From this position, I have greater power and more opportunities for activism,
such as a degree of political safety. Problematizing this relationship as both Indigenous and settler is necessary if I am going to claim any sort of
solidarity with Indigenous nations in the Americas. Indigenous dispossession, genocide, and resistance in the Americas cannot be just
convenient analogies for me to use in explaining the struggle of my own people. I have heard other Imazighen living in the United States express
solidarity with American Indians, namely that our situation and struggle against colonialism is similar. We have not, unfortunately, moved
beyond that discourse to question our own complicity in colonialism. The late settler colony allows certain privileges and advantages even to the
North African exile: opportunities to prosper if one assimilates, to participate equally in the destruction of Indigenous lands, and achieve
material gains from Indigenous dispossession. As we consider the politics of exile as Edward Said, for example, has
written about as a Palestinian-American we must step outside ourselves to question: where are we in
exile, and on whose backs? Said writes that modern Western culture is in large part the work of exiles, migrs,
refugees in a fascinating passage offering support for the conception of the American melting pot, a
poetic multiculturalism in a land supposedly espousing freedom and liberty for all. All, that is, except the
Indigenous nations who continue to face systematic marginalization and disempowerment, colonialism
and genocide. For there to be an American melting pot, there must be an American settler state. Other
diasporans, such as the Oromo scholar Asafa Jalata, have written about promoting social justice from the
position of the exile and use the language of Indigenous rights. Yet once again, there is no critical
reflection of ones own role in reproducing and supporting the settler colonial state, the state which
allowed him to pursue his own fight for freedom. In many ways, I think we are simply so engaged in our
own struggles that we have become unwilling to accept our own role in violent colonial processes. What
does it mean if I invoke the platform of Indigenous rights to achieve justice for my people if I do nothing
to fight for those whose homeland I have no right to live upon? There are clear and concrete ways in
which settlers, including settlers of color and exiles, can work for justice alongside Indigenous peoples in
settler colonies such as the United States. We can work for decolonization on Indigenous terms, being
responsive to feedback and guidance. According to Dakota scholar Waziyatawin, this begins with truth-
telling and the recognition of our role in the destruction of Indigenous lands, sovereignty, and livelihoods.
Waziyatawin herself provides many specific examples of ways in which settlers can contribute to
decolonization efforts. For example one group of non-Native activists called Unsettling Minnesota
worked to raise money in order to buy back land on behalf of Dakota people. In addition, we can listen
and react to the demands of Indigenous liberation movements like Idle No More. The majority of my own activism
and work is still focused around Amazigh issues, and I continue to feel conflicted about my status as both Indigenous and
settler, a diasporic agent of U.S. settler colonialism. This recognition is just the first step, not the end.
Indigenous peoples must walk the path toward justice and decolonization together.
Migrants of color were historically used as tools upholding and strengthening
neoliberal multicultural settler states on the blood of indigenous peoples. Thus we
must recognize our complicity with settler states, which is a prerequisite to any
action towards decolonisation

Mayeda and Vijaykumar 08/09/14 (*David Mayeda is a lecturer at the University of Auckland in
the Department of Sociology. He also blogs at SociologyInFocus and TheCrankySociologists, **Raagini
Vijaykumar is a third year undergraduate student in Sociology and Law at the University of Auckland,
Neocolonialism, multiculturalism and settler states,
http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2014/08/neocolonialism-multiculturalism-s-
2014898239712276.html)

Like indigenous peoples worldwide, Australia's Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander populations face harsh social
disparities in their own homelands - greater underrepresentation than any other ethnic group in higher
education, coupled with greatest overrepresentation in the areas of unemployment, incarceration,
homelessness and poor health. Despite these unfortunate realities, a few months ago the Australian government announced its plans to
cut AUS$534m over the following five years that were previously reserved for indigenous programmes. Australian Treasurer Joe Hockey
justified these changes, stating that "there has been incredible duplication and some waste." The severe governmental cuts to
programmes for Australia's indigenous peoples reflect society's current wave of neoliberal policies that
prioritises private, free market enterprise and a reduction of governmental involvement in the global
economy. Furthermore, it is this neoliberal ideological agenda that is proclaimed the most efficient,
rational approach to successful nation-building. Frequently lost in the discourse over neoliberalism,
however, is its Eurocentric cultural bent. Privatisation of resources for the purposes of limitless economic
growth is a cultural principal brought by European colonists and imposed upon indigenous people
centuries ago. Moreover, the competitive, individualistic free market society that has evolved since the
early years of colonialism, and that we see controlling much of the global economy today, is starkly
unaligned with most indigenous peoples' cultural values, which tend to stress collective living practices
and a deep, spiritual connection to the land. Of course sifting out race relations is an intensely complicated process. Settler
societies, such as Australia, New Zealand and the United States, are no longer comprised only of those
who trace their ancestries to the original people of the land[indigenous peoples] or the descendants of
early western European settlers. Rather, these countries' diverse cultural landscapes are shaped by on-
going immigration from across the globe, through calculated immigration systems that feed the dominant
western, neoliberal culture by defining migrants' potential through economic terms. In turn an expanded
racialised dynamic is established where incoming migrants - often of ethnic minority backgrounds - share
space with majority group members in the neoliberal system, while indigenous peoples and their values
become increasingly marginalised. Histories of restrictive inclusion As Aljazeera's three-part documentary, "Immigration Nation,"
demonstrates, society's current cultural landscape is shaped largely by history. In the decades that followed
early waves of colonialism, incoming settlers of colour to countries like Australia were defined
hierarchically and strategically by colonial powers, recruited as objectified, racialised tools to help build
these burgeoning colonial states. Immigration policies, such as Australia's dictation test, were orchestrated that consciously privileged
British migrants over those defined as "others". Australia is not alone in this story of colonialism and restrictive immigration. In the United States,
the Chinese Exclusion Act was established in 1882 after Chinese migrants, originally recruited to work on the transcontinental railroad, were
deemed threatening and undesirable by white Americans. Immigration nation One year earlier, New Zealand enacted the Chinese Immigrants
Act, which objectified Chinese migrants, restricting their entry relative to a vessel's bulk - only one Chinese migrant allowed per 10 tons of a
vessel's weight. And similar to Australia's dictation tests, New Zealand employed English language tests in 1907 to further limit Chinese entry.
For many of these early migrants of colour, the initial plan was to make enough money as physical labourers with eventual hopes
of returning to their home countries with newfound wealth. Unfortunately, extraordinarily harsh working conditions coupled
with poor wages crushed most sojourners' dreams, and they were either deported, essentially moneyless,
or forced to settle in the colonial territories and alter their goals. Often times, reshaped goals involved
pursuing the Australian, Kiwi or American dream -achieving a rightful place in the Eurocentric, capitalist
system. Thus, in Australia, New Zealand and the United States, Asian immigration was allowed, but
limited to those who could help fulfil each nation's economic needs through racialised employment in
exploitive work deemed unsuitable for the majority white populations. The story of immigration was
undeniably one of unforgivable oppression and remarkable perseverance, but not one that accounted for
indigenous rights. Multiculturalism, neoliberalism and neocolonialism Policies once grounded in blatant exclusion of people of colour
have softened in appearance and practicality over the decades, now balancing migrant entry needs (eg, possible refugee status) with skills defined
as helpful to boosting the host nation's current economic system. As such, present day Australia hosts some of the world's most
ethnically vibrant and financially dynamic cities, projecting a contemporary image to the world of
harmonious multiculturalism. Recent census figures show that 25 percent of those living in Australia were
born overseas; in New Zealand and the United States, the corresponding percentages stand at 24 percent
and 13 percent, respectively. However, multiculturalism does not automatically translate to respect for
indigenous rights. Speaking strictly in demographic terms, New Zealand's indigenous Maori population stands at 14 percent. In Australia,
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders make up only 3 percent of the total population; in the United States American Indians and Alaskan Natives
do not even comprise a full percentage point. Moving beyond population statistics, national commitments to multiculturalism
rarely translate to tangible policy changes that truly benefit indigenous populations. 101 East - Locked Up
Warriors Auckland, New Zealand's largest city, now includes residents representing over 200 ethnicities. As such, the city regularly hosts
ethnically dynamic night markets and lively cultural festivals, including Diwali and Chinese New Year. These liberal celebrations of ethnic
diversity reflect Auckland's status as a global hub and are no doubt important, providing citizens from all ethnic groups opportunities to broaden
their cultural experiences. Still, liberal multiculturalism cannot mask the New Zealand government's neoliberal
efforts that encourage foreign investment from China and through broader global partnerships that
embolden overseas investor corporations. Unfortunately, while migrant communities of colour celebrate
their cultural traditions and work to partake in their host country's neoliberal economy, like Australia's
indigenous populations, Maori in New Zealand suffer "higher exposures to risk factors for poor health,
more injury, more disability and poorer outcomes when they interact with health services" as compared to
non-Maori. Migrant communities of colour have a role to play in countering these colonial disparities by
speaking out against governmental policies that facilitate foreign investment and cut funding to
indigenous programmes. National attempts to homogenise minority group members through participation
in a "growth with no end" economic system furthers the dominant Eurocentric narrative and presents
assimilation into the neoliberal system as the pathway to a post-colonial society, free of social injustice. In
reality, however, neoliberal economics masked through celebrations of multiculturalism extend the divide
between settlers and indigenous peoples while discounting the contribution that settlers frequently play in
perpetuating indigenous exploitation. To this end, development of a multicultural society through
neoliberal economics is neocolonial. This is not to suggest that migrant communities are homogenous or that their transitions to a
new homeland reflect a comfortable "model minority" experience. Rather, migrant transitions into settler states are designed
through a Eurocentric framework that values economic growth over indigenous rights. Indigenous
worldviews are ultimately defined as extraneous in the overall system, if acknowledged at all, and the
physical dislocation and genocide inflicted upon indigenous peoples centuries ago is perpetuated through
contemporary neoliberal ideology and utopic visions of multiculturalism. The discrimination and struggles that
migrants face do not exempt them from their responsibility in perpetuating a contemporary colonial model. Importance must be placed
on examining the ways that migrants, despite their circumstances and history, inadvertently support the
broader neoliberal, neocolonial structure of settler states. Speaking as Asian migrants to a settler state, we
call for collective accountability and responsibility on the part of all settlers, for the ways in which
settlers' actions stand in contrast with, and impede native struggles. Settlers - even those of colour - must
recognise their complicity in perpetuating colonialism and alter their behaviours accordingly. Only then
can steps be taken towards effective decolonisation interventions and the subsequent upholding of
indigenous rights.

Sexton card
The only viable political strategy must include the black body the affirmative just
recoordinates civil society and doesnt provide any liberation there is a direct
tradeoff
Jared Sexton, Associate professor of African American studies and film and media studies at the
University of California, Irvine, 2010, People-of-Color-Blindness; Notes on the Afterlife of Slavery,
http://socialtext.dukejournals.org/content/28/2_103/31.full.pdf
The upshot of this predicament is that obscuring the structural position of the category of blackness will inevitably
undermine multiracial coalition building as a politics of radical opposition and, to that extent, force the
question of black liberation back to the center of discussion. Every analysis that attempts to understand the
complexities of racial rule and the machinations of the racial state without accounting for black existence
within its framework which does not mean simply listing it among a chain of equivalents or returning to it as an afterthought is
doomed to miss what is- essential about the situation. Black existence does not represent the total
reality of the racial formation it is not the beginning and the end of the story but it does relate to the totality; it
indicates the (repressed) truth of the political and economic system. That is to say, the whole range of
positions within the racial formation is most fully understood from this vantage point, not unlike the way in
which the range of gender and sexual variance under patriarchal and heteronormative regimes is most fully understood through lenses that are
feminist and queer. 75 What is lost for the study of black existence in the proposal for a decentered, postblack
paradigm is a proper analysis of the true scale and nature of black suffering and of the struggles political,
aesthetic, intellectual, and so on that have sought to transform and undo it. What is lost for the study of nonblack nonwhite
existence is a proper analysis of the true scale and nature of its material and symbolic power relative to the category of blackness. 76 This is why
every attempt to defend the rights and liberties of the latest victims of state repression will fail to make
substantial gains inso - far as it forfeits or sidelines the fate of blacks, the prototypical targets of the
panoply of police practices and the juridical infrastructure built up around them. Without blacks on
board, the only viable political option and the only effective defense against the intensifying cross fire will involve
greater alliance with an antiblack civil society and further capitulation to the magnification of state power. At the apex
of the midcentury social movements, Kwame Ture and Charles Hamilton wrote in their 1968 clas - sic, Black
Power: The Politics of Liberation , that black freedom entails the necessarily total revamping of the society.
77 For Hartman, thinking of the entanglements of the African diaspora in this context, the necessarily total
revamping of the society is more appropriately envisioned as the creation of an entirely new world: I knew
that no matter how far from home I traveled, I would never be able to leave my past behind. I would never
be able to imagine being the kind of person who had not been made and marked by slavery. I was black and a
history of terror had produced that identity. Terror was captivity without the possibility of flight, inescapable
violence, precarious life. There was no going back to a time or place before slavery, and going beyond
it no doubt would entail nothing less momentous than yet another revolution.
Alt
No question of alt solvency the impossible demand on the state allows for the
negativity that solves no question of alt solvency means 100% risk of it no new
1ar args that was the 2nc
The only option is thus, to refuse the world to death instead of resurrecting the
corpse of blackness, our politics brings social life to social death
Wilderson 2007 [Frank B., The Prison Slave as Hegemonys Silent Scandal in Warfare in the
American Homeland ed. Joy James, p. 31-2]

Slavery is the great leveler of the black subject's positionality. The black American subject does not generate historical
categories of entitlement, sovereignty, and immigration for the record. We are "off the map" with respect to
the cartography that charts civil society's semiotics; we have a past but not a heritage. To the data-generating demands of the Historical Axis, we
present a virtual blank, much like that which the Khoisan presented to the Anthropological Axis. This places us in a structurally
impossible position, one that is outside the articulations of hegemony. However, it also places hegemony
in a structurally impossible position because-and this is key-our presence works back on the grammar of hegemony
and threatens it with incoherence. If every subject- even the most massacred among them, Indians-is required to have analogs within
the nation's structuring narrative, and the experience of one subject on whom the nation's order of wealth was built is without analog, then that
subject's presence destabilizes all other analogs. Fanon writes, "Decolonization, which sets out to change the order of the world, is, obviously, a
program of complete disorder.nIl If we take him at his word, then we must accept that no other body functions in the Imaginary, the Symbolic, or
the Real so completely as a repository of complete disorder as the black body. Blackness is the site of absolute dereliction at the level of the Real,
for in its magnetizing of bullets the black body functions as the map of gratuitous violence through which civil society is possible-namely, those
bodies for which violence is, or can be, contingent. Blackness is the site of absolute dereliction at the level of the Symbolic, for blackness in
America generates no categories for the chromosome of history and no data for the categories of immigration or sovereignty. It is an experience
without analog-a past without a heritage. Blackness is the site of absolute dereliction at the level of the Imagi nary, for "whoever says
'rape' says Black" (Fanon), whoever says "prison" says black (Sexton), and whoever says "AIDS" says black-the "Negro is
a phobogenic object."13 Indeed, it means all those things: a phobogenic object, a past without a heritage, the map of
gratuitous violence, and a program of complete disorder. Whereas this realization is, and should be, cause for alarm, it
should not be cause for lament or, worse, disavowal-not at least, for a true revolutionary or for a truly revolutionary movement such as prison
abolition. If a social move- ment is to be neither social-democratic nor Marxist in terms of structure of
political desire, then it should grasp the invitation to assume the positionality of subjects of social
death. If we are to be honest with ourselves, we must admit that the "Negro" has been inviting whites, as well as civil
society's junior partners, to the dance of social death for hundreds of years, but few have wanted to learn the
steps. They have been, and remain today-even in the most antiracist movements, such as the prison abolition movement-invested
elsewhere. This is not to say that all oppositional political desire today is pro-white, but it is usually antiblack,
meaning that it will not dance with death. Black liberation, as a prospect, makes radicalism more dangerous to
the United States. This is not because it raises the specter of an alternative polity (such as socialism or community control
of existing resources), but because its condition of possibility and gesture of resistance function as a
negative dialec- tic: a politics of refusal and a refusal to affirm, a "program of complete disorder."
One must embrace its disorder, its incoherence, and allow oneself to be elabo- rated by it if, indeed,
one's politics are to be underwritten a desire to take down this country. If this is not the desire that
underwrites one's politics, then through what strategy of legitimation is the word "prison" being linked to
the word "abolition"? What are this movement's lines of political accountability? There is nothing foreign, frightening, or even
unpracticed about the embrace of disorder and incoherence. The desire to be embraced, and elaborated, by disorder and incoherence is not
anathema in and of itself. No one, for example, has ever been known to say, "Gee-whiz, if only my orgasms would end a little sooner, or maybe
not come at all." Yet few so-called radicals desire to be embraced, and elaborated, by the disorder and incoherence of blackness-and the state of
political movements in the United States today is marked by this very Negrophobogenisis: "Gee-whiz, if only black rage could be more coherent,
or maybe not come at all." Perhaps there is something more terrifying about the joy of black than there is in the
joy of sex (unless one is talking sex with a Negro). Perhaps coalitions today prefer to remain inorgasmic in the face of
civil society-with hegemony as a handy prophylactic, just in case. If through this stasis or paralysis they try to do the
work of prison abolition, the work will fail, for it is always work from a position of coherence (Le., the
worker) on behalf of a position of incoherence of the black subject, or prison slave. In this way, social
formations on the left remain blind to the contradictions of coalitions between workers and slaves. They remain coalitions
operating within the logic of civil society and function less as revolutionary promises than as crowding
out scenarios of black antagonisms, simply feeding our frustration. Whereas the positionality of the worker (whether a factory
worker demand- ing a monetary wage, an immigrant, or a white woman demanding a social wage) gestures toward the reconfiguration of civil
society, the positionality of the black subject (whether a prison slave or a prison slave-in-waiting) gestures toward the
disconfiguration of civil society. From the coherence of civil so- ciety, the black subject beckons with the
incoherence of civil war, a war that re- claims blackness not as a positive value but as a politically
enabling site, to quote Fanon, of "absolute dereliction." It is a "scandal" that rends civil society asun- der. Civil war, then,
becomes the unthought, but never forgotten, understudy of hegemony. It is a black specter waiting in the wings, an
endless antagonism that cannot be satisfied (via reform or reparation) but that must, nonetheless, be
pursued to the death.