On Allies and Allyship: An Intersectional and Inclusive Perspective

By Pushpa Iyer

In working with minoritised communities in India, we identified ourselves as social justice or human rights activists. Now residing in the United States and focusing on race conflicts, I am becoming familiar with concepts of allyship and the discussions around who is an ally. Same things, different expressions, I decided. So, I took my experiences of working with minoritised communities in India and developed antiracism programs here in the United States.

One of these initiatives is an allyship program I have been leading for years in the school I teach. As a faculty member leading this program, I fought against an unspoken understanding of allyship shared by many in the school. Most believed that because they have the privilege, usually white privilege, they were the only ones who could or should be allies for non-white community members. So, not surprisingly, the allyship program primarily attracts White community members. However, non-White and non-American community members were usually missing in our group. 

I have analysed many reasons for the skewed demographics in the allies’ group. However, I would like to focus on two main reasons that stand out for me as a Brown immigrant woman leading race conversations: (a) the limited definition and understanding of an ally as discussed above and (b) the lack of an inclusive, intersectional approach to allyship. 

A binary understanding of race identifies some as oppressed and others as oppressors, leading to antiracism approaches that put the burden for social change on one group (the oppressors) and assign victimhood status to the other group (the oppressed).  This kind of approach - the oppressors would liberate the oppressed - is what Paulo Freire (author of The Pedagogy of the Oppressed) dissuades us against doing. Instead, he says, only the oppressed can liberate themselves, meaning they should claim their agency. 

Freire’s words of caution resonate with my research and my work in India which developed my understanding of allyship. Allyship, I believe, should be rooted in solidarity and not identity. And yet, in my experience, a reactionary version of allyship is what we see around us; the forever privileged group must always be the allies for the forever underprivileged group. Antiracism efforts with such a limited view of allyship are very troublesome.

I believe very strongly that all of us are privileged in some contexts and underprivileged in other contexts. If, in a context, I experience privilege, I will become an ally to someone who is being oppressed. If in a context, I am being discriminated against, I expect others to be my allies. It is as simple as that for me. I am never always the victim, and I am never always the privileged. I have agency and power, and I will use it when I can for myself or others. 

I learnt this through my work among Muslims and Dalits iin India. Both communities came from a long history of violence and continue to be very marginalised and oppressed. The staff in our NGO came from very diverse backgrounds – we were Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Jains, Sikhs, Dalits, upper castes, and more. Most importantly, we were all allies for the Muslims and Dalits in the slums. My Dalit colleague was an ally for the Muslims in the slum, and my Muslim colleague was an ally for the Dalit resident in the slums. We, the NGO staff, were social justice activists, and we were there to be allies to others who were less privileged than us. Of course, some of our staff colleagues from these same minoritised groups faced discrimination in their everyday lives and were affected during every outbreak of violence. However, at no time did they think they could not be allies for those in the slums. The staff had diverse privileges: middle-class background, education, language/s advantages, proximity to power, and more. We were determined to use those privileges when possible and be there for those who needed our assistance. 

One event sticks out to me and might be the best way to explain my social justice and intersectional framework. One year, during a particularly violent riot between Hindus and Muslims, four of us – one tribal (indigenous communities are called tribals in India), two Christians and me, an upper-caste Hindu and the only woman in our team - decided to visit an all-Muslim slum where our organisation had been involved for over 25 years. We wanted to make sure the people and our community-based trainers were okay, given the level of violence against the Muslims. When we got to this slum, we very quickly realised that Muslim vigilantes from nearby areas had taken over the slum. They were protecting their community. They did not know us and we did not recognise them.

As outsiders, we were suspects, and within no time, a mob of over 100 young men had surrounded us. Communication or reasoning was very difficult at that moment. However, word quickly got around in the slum and our community trainers, all of whom were women, Muslims, and residents of the slum came rushing from their homes. These women pushed through the mob of men and reached us. These eight Muslim women of all ages immediately formed a circle around us by linking their hands, loudly announcing that they knew us and highlighting how much our organisation had done for the people. They told the mob that we should be allowed to leave. Then, slowly, they guided us out of the slum to our vehicle while retaining the protective circle around us. The whole time they kept apologising to us and asked us to leave quickly, saying they were going to be okay and would call us if they needed anything. They were our allies at that moment. As staff members of an NGO, we needed those allies that day, or we would have lost our lives. Literally. 

I remember how terrified I was and still feel fear recounting this incident. I was shaken by the fact that these Muslim women who were the targets of extreme violence those days in our city had protected me and been my ally (by vouching for my work which I feel was more about solidarity and less about saving another human life). The irony that I came from the same religious and caste group that was at that moment their greatest oppressor was not lost on me. Such incidents developed my understanding of allyship. 

What I learnt that day was that anyone can be an ally, and everyone needs an ally. It is that simple. Such an approach to allyship gives agency to everyone because marginalisation experiences are rooted in current contexts. It broadens the definition of allyship to include diverse groups of people, and antiracism efforts will then be rooted at the intersection of these many identities. 

As both an insider and an outsider in this country, I think antiracism efforts in this country need a new framework - a social justice framework that is more inclusive and intersectional. Doing this, I believe, makes us more inclined to join forces with those different from us, and in the process, we will develop collective strength to bring down those oppressive structures of racism.