Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Barnie Choudhury: Blacked-up and browned-off

by Barnie Choudhury (Former BBC journalist)

IT HAPPENED in September 1990. I was in Truro’s city centre because I was applying for


a job as news editor at BBC Radio Cornwall.

An old lady with a stoop and walking stick came up to me and rubbed my face. “So, it’s

real then?” she asked, before walking off. I can only think she meant my brown complexion

was not from a tin of shoe polish.

It came as no surprise to me to learn that the Cornish used to celebrate ‘Darkie Day’. It is

now known as Mummer’s Day and, despite the controversy, the celebration of pagan mid-

winter still takes place, with people ‘blacking-up’ between Boxing Day and New Year’s Day.

The memory of that bizarre moment was brought back by the equally bizarre actions of Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau. We’ve learnt that in 2001, when he was 29 and a teacher, he browned his face and came to an event as a character from Aladdin.

So, we’re talking about 18 years ago, when he was almost 30, still a callow youth in Commonwealth terms.

Trudeau has apologised profusely, and he realises that he was “blind-sided by his privileged

upbringing”. Those are the arguments put forward by his supporters. His opponents have

made political capital from his gigantic lapse in judgment.

The question is whether the brouhaha is real or mere political opportunism by those who make a living out of being outraged?

The problem is that Trudeau is a serial offender. By his own ad-mission, he cannot give

a definitive answer to how many times he “blacked-up”. Yet this is the man when asked

why half his cabinet were women, responded: “Because it’s 2015.”

The problem is his championing of diversity means we hold him to a higher standard, and

what this unfortunate episode reminds us is that even modern-day heroes have feet of clay.

Another problem for Trudeau is that he is not being advised very well. His trip to India was a disaster after his advisers invited a convicted criminal to a dinner with the prime minister

when he visited Delhi last year. Later he wore a Punjabi kurta, meant to honour India, but the gesture was interpreted as Trudeau trying too hard. An axiom for any PR officer is to make sure, in public at least, that their principal is a true version of him or herself, only better.

So why, ask his supporters, beat the man up when times were so different then? But even

in 2001, the world knew that ‘blacking-up’ was offensive and racist.

Even if you do not accept that, 2001 was months before the world-changing event of 9/11. The world was alive to global racial and religious tensions.

Forget that it was simply wrong, it was also simply stupid. As the son of a former prime minister, Trudeau should have known his actions have consequences. Social media was in its infancy then, but the prime minister’s father would have been under the magnifying

glass 24/7, 365 days of the year. Trudeau Junior must have known that anything he did when he was younger would come back to haunt him. His father should have taught him that, and Trudeau Junior should have listened if or when he did.

It is so easy to criticise our elected civic leaders, and I use it as a learning tool. If we choose to put ourselves out there, the sad thing is that we had better make sure we have no secrets, because they will not remain concealed for too long.

Being the father of a 23-year old daughter, I am fortunate enough to learn from her. We do

not agree on everything, and she cries out when she thinks I have overstepped the mark. From her I have understood that her generation is more tolerant of gay people, lesbians, bisexuals, trans-gender, non-binary gender, different racial and religious groups, than mine ever was, and thank goodness for that.

My daughter’s generation is struggling with, among other things, social class, and it realises that while diversity is important, inclusivity is the key to true equality.

The days when, in the school playground, my white classmates mimicked the browned-up Indian-born actor, Michael Bates, from It Ain’t Half Hot Mum, and used it as a weapon to ridicule, are over. But the TV series, and ‘Darkie Day’, should never be forgotten or removed from our nation’s history. They should serve as an object lesson of a darker time in our history, so we do not rewind, reload and repeat our egregious errors.

So what does Trudeau intend to do now to repair the wounds he has opened? Surely, that is how history should judge this young leader.

More For You

Does likeability count more than brilliance?

Higher education participation is 50 per cent for British south Asian students

Does likeability count more than brilliance?

THE headline in the Daily Telegraph read: An 18-year-old with a higher IQ than Stephen Hawking has passed 23 A-levels.

The gushing piece went on to report that Mahnoor Cheema, whose family originate from Pakistan, had also received an unconditional offer from Oxford University to read medicine.

Keep ReadingShow less
Comment: Why it’s vital to tell stories
of Asian troops’ war effort

Jay Singh Sohal on Mandalay Hill in Burma at the position once held by Sikh machine gunners who fought to liberate the area

Comment: Why it’s vital to tell stories of Asian troops’ war effort

Jay Singh Sohal OBE VR

ACROSS the Asian subcontinent 80 years ago, the guns finally fell silent on August 15, the Second World War had truly ended.

Yet, in Britain, what became known as VJ Day often remains a distant afterthought, overshadowed by Victory in Europe against the Nazis, which is marked three months earlier.

Keep ReadingShow less
Judicial well-being: From taboo to recognition by the UN

The causes of judicial stress are multifaceted, and their effects go far beyond individual well-being

iStock

Judicial well-being: From taboo to recognition by the UN

Justice Rangajeeva Wimalasena

Judicial well-being has long been a taboo subject, despite the untold toll it has taken on judges who must grapple daily with the problems and traumas of others. Research shows that judicial stress is more pronounced among magistrates and trial judges, who routinely face intense caseloads and are exposed to distressing material. The causes of judicial stress are multifaceted, and their effects go far beyond individual well-being. They ultimately affect the integrity of the institution and the quality of justice delivered. This is why judicial well-being requires serious recognition and priority.

As early as 1981, American clinical psychologist Isaiah M. Zimmerman presented one of the first and most comprehensive analyses of the impact of stress on judges. He identified a collection of stressors, including overwhelming caseloads, isolation, the pressure to maintain a strong public image, and the loneliness of the judicial role. He also highlighted deeply personal challenges such as midlife transitions, marital strain, and diminishing career satisfaction, all of which quietly but persistently erode judicial well-being.

Keep ReadingShow less
Fauja Singh

Fauja Singh

Getty Images

What Fauja Singh taught me

I met Fauja Singh twice, once when we hiked Snowdon and I was in awe he was wearing shoes, not trainers and walking like a pro, no fear, just smiling away. I was struggling to do the hike with trainers. I remember my mum saying “what an inspiration”. He was a very humble and kind human being. The second time I met him was when I was at an event, and again, he just had such a radiant energy about him. He’s one of a kind and I’m blessed to have met him.

He wasn’t just a runner. He was a symbol. A living contradiction to everything we’re taught about age, limits, and when to stop dreaming. And now that he’s gone, it feels like a light has gone out—not just in Punjab or east London, but in the hearts of everyone who saw a bit of themselves in his journey.

Keep ReadingShow less
“Why can’t I just run?”: A south Asian woman’s harrowing harassment story

Minreet with her mother

“Why can’t I just run?”: A south Asian woman’s harrowing harassment story

I was five years old when my parents first signed me up for a mini marathon. They were both keen runners and wanted me to follow in their footsteps. At the time, I hated it. Running felt like punishment — exhausting, uncomfortable, and something I never imagined I’d do by choice.

But one moment changed everything. I was 12, attending a gymnastics competition, and had gone to the car alone to grab my hula hoop. As I walked back, a group of men started shouting at me. They moved closer. I didn’t wait to hear what they had to say — I ran. Fast. My heart was pounding. It was the first time I felt afraid simply for existing in public as a young girl. I never told anyone. But I remember feeling thankful, strangely, that my parents had taught me how to run.

Keep ReadingShow less