A Democratic Defence of Reparations

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A Democratic Defence of Reparations

MSc thesis written by Jack Noel

Student ID: 12780669 Academic year: 2019-2020 Submission date: June 2020

Supervisor: Dr. Afsoun Afsahi Second reader: Dr. Johan Olsthoorn

Words: 12,499

Master thesis Political Science (specialisation: Political Theory) Graduate School of Social Sciences

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oppression are a necessary condition for democracy in the United States. I develop the concept of ‘democratic power’ and identify African American democratic powerlessness as a central problem for democracy. This problem cannot be solved without reparations, as they are the only existing solution that can address all three aspects of African American democratic powerlessness: the material, sociocultural, and psychological. This is because solving democratic powerlessness in the latter two of these aspects requires an attention to history that only reparations can provide. I conclude the paper by considering an objection to my argument that claims reparations would reinforce a sense of victimhood in recipients. I respond that this does not have to be the case, as it is possible for a reparations programme to empower, not victimise, African Americans.

Keywords: reparations; democracy; African Americans; democratic power;

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1. Introduction

African American reparations for slavery, Jim Crow, and the racial oppression that followed are a necessary condition for democracy in the United States. That is the main thesis of this paper. I identify ‘African American democratic powerlessness’ as a central problem for democracy and argue this problem cannot be solved without reparations.

During the last century, various of history’s most mistreated groups were vindicated in their calls for reparation (Sepinwall, 2006, 183). For instance, victims of the Holocaust, those who suffered under the Pinochet regime, and Korean ‘comfort women’ were all paid reparation by Germany, Chile, and Japan, respectively. In the US, the state paid reparation to Indigenous Americans, Japanese Americans detained during the Second World War, and various other groups (Posner & Vermeule, 2003, 694-698). This global proliferation of reparative programmes has led some scholars to contend that we are living through an ‘age of apology’ (Brooks, 1999).

However, missing from this list is one of history’s longest-suffering groups: African Americans (Sepinwall, 2006, 183). In recent years, calls for reparations for slavery and Jim Crow have gained momentum in the US, even making it onto the agenda in the 2020 Democratic debates (Lockhart, 2019) - something which would have been extremely difficult to imagine just decades ago. This comes within a wider social and political context whereby African Americans continue to suffer enormously at the hands of the state (McCarthy, 2020), and liberal-democratic institutions long-thought to be sacred are under attack (Galston, 2018). Thus, the arguments considered in this paper are particularly significant to the current political moment: the time for a democratic case for reparations has come. The overarching goal of this study is therefore to develop a convincing democratic argument for African American reparations.

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The structure of this paper is as follows. In the following section, I situate my argument within the existing literature, differentiating the democratic approach I take from the traditional justice approach. This is this paper’s first original contribution. In section 3, I develop the concept of ‘democratic power’ (the paper’s second original contribution) to describe the problems African Americans, as a group, face in the political sphere. I define the three faces of democratic power as the material, sociocultural, and psychological, and contend that African Americans suffer from a lack of democratic power (democratic powerlessness) in all three of these faces. I identify African American democratic powerlessness as a central problem for democracy and locate it as the problem I wish to solve in this paper. In sections 4 and 5, I conceptualise reparations, before advocating for them as a means of solving the problem of African American democratic powerlessness, arguing they are a necessary condition in doing so. Reparations can effectively address all three aspects of African American democratic

powerlessness, however it is the sociocultural and psychological aspects that make reparations

necessary here, as addressing them requires an attention to history that only reparations can

provide. In section 6, I consider an objection to my argument that claims reparations would reinforce a sense of victimisation in recipients. In section 7, I respond that this is not a necessary consequence of reparations, and that the programme I put forward would obviate these concerns, instead empowering African Americans. In conclusion, I briefly summarise the paper’s

arguments, implications, and limitations.

2. Reparations: Democracy vs Justice

The issue of African American reparations has a long history in academic thought (see Brooks, 2004; Browne, 1972; McGary, 2003, 2010; Ogletree, 2003), meaning the general topic of this

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paper is not an original one. However, the argument I make for reparations is original, as the vast majority of arguments concerning reparations are justice-based (see Boxill, 2003; Rubio-Marin & De Greiff, 2007; Sepinwall, 2006; Thompson, 2001). Here, scholars advocating for

reparations often point to the existence of “historical injustices” - gross injustices committed in the past - and argue that justice requires a responsibility to rectify them (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 575). Conversely, justice-based arguments against reparations often focus on the temporal dislocation between the past injustice and the present (see Waldron, 1992).

In contrast, my argument is specifically a democratic argument for African American reparations, and whilst some studies allude to the democratising potential reparations can have (see Balfour, 2003; McGary, 2003), most ignore their democratic effects, and none offer a fully theorised democratic defence of them. I contend that this under-theorisation of the relationship between democracy and reparations is a mistake, and that the democratic approach I take is advantageous to the typical justice approach for two reasons. First, as stated above, it provides much-needed novel analysis to the reparations literature; second, many important democratic insights are missed when justice is the sole lens of analysis. As I shall presently show, issues of ‘historical injustice’ have important consequences for democracy.

Here I borrow Alasia Nuti’s concept of historical-structural injustice (HSI), which is defined as:

unjust social-structural processes enabling asymmetries between differently positioned persons, which started in the past and are reproduced in a different fashion, even if the original form of injustice may appear to have ended (Nuti, 2019, 44).

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A HSI is a historical injustice that becomes part of the structure of a society and is thereby reproduced in the present, meaning the present injustice and historical injustice should be

regarded as instances of a ‘single catastrophe’ that adapts over time (Nuti, 2019, 45). This differs from the focus solely on past injustices (see Thompson, 2001) that is common in the literature, in that it does not concern past events with a definitive ending, but those that are structurally

reproduced in the present. Additionally, although HSI has various similarities with Spinner-Halev’s (2007) concept of ‘enduring injustice’, it also differs from this as it places more emphasis on the banal mechanisms (e.g. stereotypes) whereby an unjust history is presently reproduced (Nuti, 2019, 41-42).

I claim the ‘historical injustices’ of slavery and Jim Crow are archetypal examples of HSI, in that their logics have become embedded into the structures of American society, so they are constantly newly reproduced in the present. This is hardly a new or original idea, as various scholars have been integral in exposing how this reproduction occurs (see Alexander, 2010; Davis, 2003; Muhammad, 2011; Threadcraft, 2016). For instance, Davis (2003) and Alexander (2010) have convincingly shown that the institutionally racist and exploitative carceral system of the US is one way in which the logics of Black subjugation inherent in slavery and Jim Crow have been continually reproduced long after formal abolition. Crucially, this has various democratic consequences, most obvious of which being the fact that those incarcerated cannot vote (Alexander, 2010, 4).

Thus, I want to conceptualise slavery and Jim Crow not as past injustices that have definitively ended, but historical-structural injustices that are constantly newly reproduced in contemporary American society. This allows one to think of slavery and Jim Crow not only as

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issues of justice, but also of democracy – this is in contrast to the mainstream literature. If slavery and Jim Crow do have present consequences, and these consequences vastly inhibit African Americans’ collective ability to engage in democratic politics, then addressing them becomes an essential means of ensuring the legitimacy of a democratic system and maintaining democracy itself. If this is the case, and reparations are an effective mechanism of addressing these issues, then we may be more willing to bear the cost of reparations programmes than if we solely consider them from a justice standpoint. Put simply, the price we are willing to pay for reparations will increase if they are shown to be essential for democracy. I contend that

reparations can contribute much to democracy, but this will depend on there being fully theorised

democratic arguments for them1. This is what I aim to contribute through this paper.

3. Democratic Power and Powerlessness

Looking at the United States today, it is obvious that despite formal equality, there is some sort of political inequality between African Americans and their white compatriots. Black issues are continually given insufficient political attention (see Pulido, 2016), racial minorities often have their vote suppressed (Hajnal et al., 2017), and the President is arguably an outright white supremacist (Coates, 2017). Facts such as these have led scholars to define America as a “white democracy - a polity ruled in the interests of a white citizenry” (Olson, 2004, XV). Thus, there is clearly some form of political inequality between racial groups in the US. The question is: inequality in what? Here, I propose the novel concept of democratic power. The problem I wish to solve in this paper is therefore African American democratic powerlessness; my aim is simply to counter this by providing African Americans with more democratic power.

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Before proceeding, it is important to caveat that my interest is in democratic power in African Americans as a social group. I follow Young’s definition of social groups as a

“collective of persons differentiated from at least one other group by cultural forms, practices, or ways of life” (1990, 43), whereby members generally share something of a common identity, social status, and history with one another. This has specific consequences for how people understand them, and how they understand and experience the world (Young, 1990, 43-44). I contend that African Americans experience democratic powerlessness as a social group: as a group, they occupy a certain “unjust structural position” (Nuti, 2019, 162) in the US that produces their democratic powerlessness in relation to other, more privileged groups (white Americans).

In defining democratic power, I draw inspiration from Steven Lukes’ (1974) seminal framework of the three faces of power to evoke the three faces of democratic power. Here, I take a critical theory approach, considering some real-world problems that African Americans

experience in the political sphere that intuitively strike one as democratically problematic. From this, we will be able to extrapolate the very essence of democratic powerlessness, and as a corollary, democratic power.

First, the material inequality between white and Black Americans has historically been a much-studied phenomenon (see Du Bois, 1935; Mills, 2004). This is an inequality not only in income but even more so in wealth: white households are worth roughly twenty times as much as Black households in the US (Coates, 2014, A Difference in Kind, Not Degree, para. 5). African Americans also suffer materially in terms of the services they have access to, such as education (Fridkin et al., 2006, 607). Thus, as Charles Mills (1997, 38) has claimed, economically, white and Black Americans inhabit two wholly different nations.

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Due to the various ways material resources can be used in politics, this automatically means African Americans have a diminished influence in the political sphere. For instance, they lack the material resources to force their issues into the public sphere, as wealthier groups are able to use their resources to control what is deemed ‘political’ (Lukes, 1974, 20-25). Even when they do see their issues enter the public sphere, they are less likely to prevail in any open policy conflicts with richer (white) groups (Goodin & Dryzek, 1980, 286). In addition, a lack of material resources means African Americans have less access to quality education that can increase political influence (Fridkin et al., 2006, 607). By reversing these conditions, we can identify the material face of democratic power: possessing the material resources necessary to effectively influence the political sphere.

Second, not only do African Americans suffer from a lack of material resources, but also a lack of social status and esteem. They suffer from ‘status inequality’ in that the dominant culture perceives certain facts about them (i.e. their race) to mean they are of a naturally inferior status (Scanlon, 2018, 26). Relatedly, they suffer from ‘powerlessness’ in the Youngean sense in that they lack the authority and sense of self other groups have, as well as ‘cultural imperialism’ in that their experiences and perspectives are perceived as deviant or Other by the dominant culture (Young, 1990, 56-61). This manifests outwardly in overtly racist worldviews, as well as more subtly through stigmatization, stereotyping, and unconscious biases (Collins, 2000, C4; Loury, 2002, C2-C3). This can be both exterior, i.e. deriving from other groups, but also interior, as subjects come to internalise negative views of the self as naturally inferior (see Fanon, 1963).

This lack of esteem and social status leads to various problems for African Americans in the political sphere. For instance, Black issues are deemed as unimportant and thus less worthy of political attention because Black people themselves are deemed as less worthy by hegemonic

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groups (see Pulido, 2016). Diminished social status therefore means African Americans are less able to get their issues on the political agenda, and even when they do, they are seen as less legitimate and authoritative interlocutors. By reversing these conditions, we can identify the

sociocultural face of democratic power: having the social status and esteem to be seen, by

oneself and others, as an equal and worthy participant in a democratic scheme.

Third, consider the nature of the relationship that exists between African Americans and their government. Here, note that the American state has been a historic purveyor of violence against racial minorities, particularly African Americans (Ogletree, 2003, 1060-1062). Indeed, it was the coercive power of the state that quite literally made slavery and Jim Crow possible (Sepinwall, 2006, 211). This state terrorisation continues in the present, directly through institutions such as the police (see McCarthy, 2020), and indirectly in the sense that violence against African Americans in wider society is largely tolerated and rationalised by the state (see Williams, 1991, 58-61). African Americans thus suffer systemic violence in the Youngean sense (Young, 1990, 61-63). The effect is a collective memory of oppression which causes a

(justifiable) deep mistrust of and negative feelings towards the state and political process (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 584-587). African Americans justifiably believe that the government is not on ‘their side’ and that they are unable to achieve their aims through the political process (Avery, 2009).

These feelings of mistrust, negativity, and a lack of efficacy cause African Americans to depoliticise by withdrawing from the public sphere (Fridkin, et al., 2006, 608-609). Here we might apply Matthies-Boon and Head’s (2017, 262-263) concept of ‘political trauma’, whereby subjects withdraw from the public sphere as their normative expectation to be treated as an equal and worthy participant in public dialogue has been shattered. In addition, historic mistrust will

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mean any attempt by the government to improve the condition of African Americans will be met with suspicion (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 585). Thus, this broken relationship between African Americans and the state leads to less political influence and authority. By reversing this, we can identify the psychological face of democratic power: having the collective memory necessary to have a fruitful relationship with the state.

To reiterate, the three faces of democratic power can be outlined as follows. The

material: possessing the material resources necessary to effectively influence the political

sphere; the sociocultural: having the social status and esteem to be seen, by oneself and others, as an equal and worthy participant in a democratic scheme; and the psychological: having the collective memory necessary to have a fruitful relationship with the state. African Americans suffer a lack of democratic power (democratic powerlessness) in all three of its aspects. With these three individual faces in mind, we are now in a position to define democratic power as a whole succinctly as:

occupying a societal position that enables one to have a genuine influence in the way one’s political and social landscapes are structured, and to be seen, by others and oneself, as an equal and worthy participant within those structures.

To truly possess democratic power, these three faces are individually necessary and jointly sufficient. For instance, it is of little use to have sufficient social status and esteem if one’s lack of material resources means they are unable to effectively participate. Or, even if one has the necessary material resources and social esteem, this will be of limited use if one’s collective memory is such that one cannot fruitfully engage with the state. Thus, lacking in any

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of these three areas is sufficient to suffer from democratic powerlessness, and none are necessary in doing so, meaning to truly empower African Americans we should attempt to address their democratic powerlessness in all three of its aspects.

Whilst I have elucidated the concept of democratic power specifically in regard to African Americans, I see no reason why it could not be applied to other social groups. For instance, women, sexual minorities, the working-class, and Indigenous Americans may suffer from democratic powerlessness in similar ways to African Americans. In addition, democratic power is inherently relative because in the political sphere, all power is relative as “the

distribution of a fixed quantity of scarce goods - policy outputs - is determined by the relative influence alternative claimants can bring to bear” (Goodin & Dryzek, 1980, 277: my emphasis). It matters little how much power one social group has in absolute terms; what matters is their position vis-à-vis other groups they will be competing with for a given political decision (Goodin & Dryzek, 1980, 278). Thus, to effectively address African American democratic powerlessness, it will be necessary to improve the position of African Americans relative to more dominant social groups (white Americans). A successful democratic argument for reparations should close the gap in democratic power that exists between these groups.

African American democratic powerlessness is a problem democratic theory must solve. Even the most basic conceptions of democracy hold that a genuine democracy must be

responsive to the needs of all of its citizens, regardless of race (McGary, 2003, 105). Democratic powerlessness means African Americans are largely unable to effectively influence the political sphere and are thus subject to coercive state power they have little control over. This violates the all-affected principle which is often thought of as an essential aspect of democracy (Heyward, 2008, 628). It follows that for America to be a genuine democracy, the problem of African

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American democratic powerlessness must be solved. In what follows, I motivate reparations as a means of doing this.

4. What are Reparations?

At the most basic level, reparations seek to establish a relationship between ‘beneficiaries’ and ‘victims’ of a past crime or injustice. This is done through a coordinated set of measures that aim to ‘repair’ this injustice by providing benefits to its victims, which are usually paid for by its beneficiaries or perpetrators (Rubio-Marin & De Greiff, 2007, 320). This payment can come in many forms, with a fundamental distinction being between material and symbolic payment (De Greiff, 2006, 453). The former takes the form of compensation, which can be paid either via direct cash payment or the provision of service packages in areas such as education and housing. Symbolic payment may include official apologies, the creation of museums dedicated to victims, the establishment of days of commemoration, public-history efforts to educate the citizenry about the past injustice in question, the changing of place names, and so on (see De Greiff, 2006, 453-468). The form of payment should match the nature of the harm the reparations are meant to address (Boxill, 2015, Reparations, Restitution, Compensation, para. 1), meaning whatever measures I argue for should be particularly appropriate in countering relative democratic powerlessness in African Americans.

Here we can establish a characteristic of reparations that distinguishes them from other programmes relating to past crimes or injustices: the perpetrating party acknowledges their wrongdoing and seeks atonement for it (Brooks, 1999, 8). This is usually done through an

apology, however even if an explicit apology is absent, the perpetrators tacitly acknowledge their culpability through the voluntary payment of reparations. This is in contrast to a settlement,

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whereby one may pay another for a past injustice, but the paying party does not admit wrongdoing nor seek atonement: they pay involuntarily (Brooks, 1999, 8).

Another similar yet analytically distinct concept to reparation is restitution, which attempts to return victims to their status quo ante by literally returning what was stolen from them (De Greiff, 2006, 452) - consider advocations of the return of stolen land to Indigenous Americans (see Alfred, 2009). This is less easy to apply to the case of African Americans, as it is unclear what tangible asset would be returned to them. Thus, reparations can be thought of necessary when what was stolen cannot literally be returned (Alfred, 2009, 181). Finally, reparations can also be paid to individuals or groups (Brooks, 1999, 9), and as this paper is concerned with African Americans as a social group, it is the latter I am arguing for.

5. Reparations and Democracy

In this section, I argue reparations are a necessary condition in addressing African American democratic powerlessness because they are the only solution that can properly address all three of its aspects (material, sociocultural, psychological). This is because addressing the latter two of these aspects requires an attention to history that only reparations can provide. African American democratic powerlessness is thus a problem that falls “outside the bounds of liberal justice” (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 576) as it cannot be fully remedied without taking history into account.

5.1. The Material

First, reparations are an effective means of addressing the material aspect of African American democratic powerlessness. In section 3, I defined the material aspect of democratic power as: possessing the material resources necessary to effectively influence the political sphere. The

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mechanism through which reparations could address democratic powerlessness here is fairly obvious: material payment. This could take various forms, such as a per capita cash payment allocated annually to the African American community, a monthly basic income, massive investment in public services and infrastructure in African American communities, and so on (see Browne, 1972, 44-45).

It is not within the scope of this paper to examine the pros and cons of each of these suggestions. However, due to the multitude of the material problems (in terms of wealth, income, and public services) African Americans face, massive material payment should be a necessary feature of any reparations programme and should involve both cash payment and investment in services. Nor is it within the scope of this paper to calculate exactly how much should be paid. However, to truly counter the material aspect of democratic powerlessness then African

Americans must have the resources to influence politics in a way that is relatively equal to their white compatriots. The figure needed to achieve this would no doubt be astronomical, but this massive economic investment in African American communities would make substantial changes in the material conditions of the people living in them (Balfour, 2005, 790). For instance, cash payment and housing services would help to eliminate the ‘ghettoization’ of the African American urban poor (see Shelby, 2007). Thus, it seems rather inarguable that

reparations can help to address the material aspect of African American democratic powerlessness.

Here we can highlight another important point: reparations are particularly effective in addressing the relative nature of African American democratic powerlessness. In section 3, I argued democratic power is inherently relative in that what matters is the amount of democratic power a group has relative to other groups, meaning a successful argument to counter African

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American democratic powerlessness should close the gap that exists between them and more powerful social groups. Reparations are effective here because the victim is the primary category in reparative programmes (De Greiff, 2006, 2), meaning the vast amount of the benefits are accrued solely by the victims of the past injustice in question: in this case African Americans. For instance, through material payment, the economic benefit would be accrued solely by African Americans. This would particularly be the case if reparations were paid for by increased taxation on wealthy (and therefore largely white) actors and groups.

Contrast this with other proposed solutions such as democratic advocations of a Universal Basic Income (see Goodhart, 2008). Here, the very universality which is purported to be an advantage of a UBI means it would do little in addressing the relative nature of African American democratic powerlessness. Put simply: if everyone gets the same, in terms of

relativities, what has changed? From the analysis in this section, it is evident that reparations a) can address the material aspect of African American democratic powerlessness; and b) are effective in addressing the relative nature of democratic powerlessness.

5.2. The Sociocultural

Reparations are also effective in addressing the sociocultural aspect of African American

democratic powerlessness. Indeed, in this section I argue they are necessary in doing so because without reparations, we cannot properly challenge the historic myths and narratives of African American inferiority that drive their sociocultural democratic powerlessness.

In section 3, I outlined the sociocultural face of democratic power thus: having the social status and esteem to be seen, by oneself and others, as an equal and worthy participant in a democratic scheme. First, it is important to note that the material payment I outlined in the

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previous section would also help to address a lack of democratic power here. This is because, as scholars such as Scanlon (2018) have outlined, a lack of economic resources often leads to a lack of status, as the way one dresses, what one consumes, the house one lives in or the car one drives all have an effect on the regard one is held in by others. Following this logic, it is clear how material payment would also help to address the sociocultural aspect of African American democratic powerlessness, as it would mitigate the economic poverty that helps to cause ‘status poverty’ (Scanlon, 2018, 28-30).

Despite this, I do not wish to claim that a lack of social status and esteem in African Americans derives solely, or even predominantly, from their material condition. As a range of scholars have shown, African Americans suffer forms of oppression that are not rooted in economic exploitation (see Crenshaw, 1989; Williams, 1991). For instance, even the wealthiest of African Americans are often considered as inferior in the eyes of the dominant culture (Yancy, 2004, 7). In this way, material deprivation acts as evidence of pre-existing beliefs of inferiority, but it is not necessary for these beliefs. As an example, consider the African American man who is automatically assumed to be criminal because of his race (see Muhammad, 2011). This is clearly an example of a lack of social status and esteem, yet happens to African Americans of all economic classes, and does not happen even to the poorest of whites (see Alexander, 2010; Muhammad, 2011).

This doctrine that African Americans are somehow of a lesser status and generally inferior regardless of any other facts about their life can be referred to as the myth of African American inferiority. This myth (and the concomitant myth of white supremacy) has existed for centuries - it was first used to justify European colonial domination and transatlantic slavery, as it was claimed the inherent inferiority, the sub-humanity, of Black peoples meant enslaving them

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involved no moral transgression (Mills, 1997, 24-25). This functions in a similar way in the present, as a range of historic myths and narratives continue to deny African American equality in order to rationalise white dominance (Roberts, 1997, 8). Thus, I contend the lack of social status and esteem in African Americans that drives their sociocultural democratic powerlessness is rooted in myths and narratives of inferiority that have been sustained and reinforced

throughout history. These myths work to produce the negative worldviews, opinions, stereotypes, and unconscious biases that logically conclude in sociocultural democratic powerlessness for African Americans.

There are also various sub-myths and narratives born out of this original myth of

inferiority, which centre around purported inherent characteristics including laziness, criminality, sexual promiscuity, degeneracy, violence, and unintelligence (Roberts, 1997, 3-21). Crucially, these myths are the product of history: they often have their roots in slavery, and are reproduced, usually through subtler institutional means, as time progresses (Nuti, 2019, 36-44). A deeper analysis of two of these sub-myths will highlight the modus operandi of this myth of African American inferiority, and how it has worked through history to produce a lack of social status and esteem.

First, consider the historic myth that links Blackness with criminality or danger (see Alexander, 2010; Davis, 2003; Muhammad, 2011). Davis (2003, 28-39) outlines how this was originally used to justify the slavery system and was reinforced during Jim Crow, as legislation was introduced to criminalise the behaviour of newly ‘free’ African Americans. This

manufactured link between Blackness and criminality was subsequently used to justify racial oppression, as “the stigma of criminality was an intellectual defense of lynching, colonial-style criminal justice practices, and genocide” (Muhammad, 2011, 11). This criminalisation of

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Blackness is continued in the present, as race continues to play a principal role in constructing presumptions of criminality (Davis, 2003, 29). The effects of this are tragically evident in contemporary American society in both the continued murder of African Americans by police forces across the US (seeMcCarthy, 2020), as well as in America’s racist carceral system: the US now imprisons a higher percentage of its Black population than South Africa at the height of apartheid (Alexander, 2010, 6). Phenomena such as mass incarceration and police brutality are impossible to understand without an analysis of the historic myth of African American

criminality: the myth both produces these phenomena and justifies them.

As another example, consider the myth of chronic sexual promiscuity in African

American women (see Collins, 2000, 81-84, hooks, 1981, C1-C2). Again, this began in slavery, as the marking of these women as sexually immoral2 served to justify their systematic sexual exploitation by their white masters (hooks, 1981, 77). This narrative continued throughout Jim Crow, and is reproduced in contemporary American society through popular culture and racist-sexist stereotypes such as the Black ‘Jezebel’ (Collins, 2000, 81). Myths of sexual promiscuity continue to both produce and justify sexual violence against African American women (hooks, 1981, 87) as well as coercive attempts on the part of the state to control their reproductive lives through the welfare state, the criminal justice system, and even forced sterilization (see Roberts, 1997; Threadcraft, 2016).

Moreover, myths of African American inferiority are underpinned through the

‘management of memory’ (Mills, 2007, 28). Here, Mills claims the doctrine of African American inferiority is sustained through a constructed social memory produced through textbooks,

ceremonies, monuments, and so on (Mills, 2007, 27-30). For instance, the minimisation of the

2_{To be sure, I do not claim ‘sexual promiscuity’ is in itself problematic, but merely that this myth has been used in} an oppressive manner against African Americans throughout history

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brutality of slavery and subsequent racial oppression in social memory reinforces African American inferiority as it allows hegemonic groups to portray the playing field as historically equal, meaning African Americans’ current disadvantaged societal position is only their own fault (Mills, 2007, 31). Historic African American contributions to the US are also minimised to reaffirm inferiority, as the “unifying cultural memory of Black people is the helplessness of living under slavery or in its shadow” (Williams, 1991, 154). Thus, history both produces and legitimates the myth of African American inferiority.

The link between these myths of inferiority and the sociocultural aspect of African American democratic powerlessness is clear. African Americans are deemed as of a lesser social status than their white compatriots as the former are naturally criminal, sexually promiscuous, and lazy, whilst the latter are industrious, responsible, and intelligent (Roberts, 1997, 9). Thus, the present lack of social status and esteem in African Americans is largely the result of myths and narratives that have been reproduced through history.

Reparations would challenge this myth of African American inferiority in a fundamental sense in that they would be a means of providing ‘recognition’ (Taylor, 1994) to African

Americans as equal and worthy citizens that are deserving of respect. This is because reparations are based in the professed equality and moral worth of the victims: the past injustice in question was wrong because of this very equality, and it is this equality that generates the need to ‘repair’ the injustice (De Greiff, 2006, 460). Reparations would therefore be a way of saying: slavery, Jim Crow, and the racial oppression that followed were wrong because African Americans are equal to others, but were not treated as such, thus something needs to change to repair this. Reparations therefore represent African American integrity, humanity, and “the right to be respected as individuals and as equals, and treated accordingly” (Ogletree, 2003, 1059).

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Thus, a denial of reparation can be seen as the historic denial of African American equality manifested in policy. For what is more damaging to a group’s esteem than enslaving, systematically murdering, raping, and continuing to oppress them, and then offering nothing in return? How is this possible, unless one denies they are equal? The fact that nothing, not even the original promise of “forty acres and a mule” (Robinson, 2000, 211) has been offered to African Americans as compensation for 400 years of oppression is surely the ultimate legitimisation of the myth of African American inferiority on behalf of the state. It is here slavery and Jim Crow exist as ‘enduring harms’ (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 578-579), in that aside from their material consequences, they exist as an affront to African American dignity. Reparations would help to restore this dignity by providing public recognition of the equal status and moral worth of African Americans.

Furthermore, a range of forms of symbolic payment could be used to offer an alternative account of racial history in the US that empowers African Americans, instead of marking them as inferior. For example, museums and public apologies could challenge the aforementioned dominant myth linking Blackness with criminality by showing this is far from any innate connection, but the result of a structural reproduction of slavery and Jim Crow through

institutional mechanisms such as a racist criminal justice system (Alexander, 2010; Davis, 2003). In the same way, these measures could also challenge the previously mentioned myth of African American sexual promiscuity, exposing this supposed link as the effect of a history of racist-sexist narratives and processes designed to justify sexual exploitation of Black women (hooks, 1981, C2). Thus, reparations are an effective means of showing the aforementioned sub-myths to actually be the evidence of centuries of racist structural oppression, and not any innate

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Relatedly, reparations could be a mechanism through which to engender a national dialogue about racial history in America that contests received explanations of racial hierarchies (Balfour, 2005, 803-804). For instance, educational programmes and public apologies should explain how, after slavery, Jim Crow forced African Americans into the “the worst jobs, the worst housing, and the worst educational systems” the effects of which are still evident today (Brooks, 2004, 44). These measures would emphasise the brutality and pervasiveness of slavery and Jim Crow, and explain how they are far from anomalies in an otherwise egalitarian history, but an instance of the systemic white supremacy that has been central to the modern US since its inception (Mills, 2007, 17). Thus, reparations would draw an explicit causal link between past injustices and racial inequalities today (Balfour, 2005, 790), providing an alternative explanation of present-day racial hierarchies that is not rooted in mythological narratives of African

American inferiority. The present material and social condition of African Americans would no longer be seen as evidence of myths of their inferiority, but of their historic oppression at the hands of the state.

This would fundamentally challenge the dominant narrative that “racial inequality is caused by Black people themselves and not by an unjust social order” (Roberts, 1997, 21). This is important both externally (in the eyes of white Americans), and internally, as African

Americans need to know for their own esteem that they bear no responsibility for their material condition (McGary, 2003, 101). Therefore, by acknowledging the historical conditions that led to the formation of African American communities, reparations can empower these communities (McGary, 2010, 551). Instead of their material condition being viewed as evidence of their innate inferiority, their continued survival despite their historic oppression might be seen as an

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In addition, reparations could forge a social memory that challenges dominant myths of African American inferiority by celebrating their historic achievements in and contributions to the US. For instance, monuments and museums could highlight the historic role the institutions of slavery and Jim Crow played in the development of the modern American state, stressing that slavery was an integral fabric of society that served as a catalyst for US global hegemony (see Baptist, 2014). Moreover, memorials, plaques, or monuments might be established for figures who have been central in the struggle for Black rights in the US, or places could be named after the many African Americans that have contributed much to popular culture, science and

technology, or literature3.

An example will highlight how a range of symbolic measures could address African American sociocultural democratic powerlessness by challenging historic myths of inferiority. Consider an African American mother who receives state aid to support her children. Whilst receiving welfare might improve her material condition, without a concomitant attention to history it may only serve to worsen her sociocultural democratic powerlessness by reinforcing racist-sexist tropes such as the Black ‘welfare Queen’ or ‘welfare mother’ (Collins, 2000, 78-80). Her need for welfare will only act as further proof of her inherent laziness, unintelligence, and inferiority in the eyes of dominant groups. The same is true of any purely redistributive measure that aims to improve the material condition of African Americans. Here we can see the inherent limitations of liberal justice in solving problems with a historical root.

However, consider how the symbolic measures I have outlined would alter this example. Reparations would interrogate the historic narratives and myths of laziness and sexual

promiscuity underpinning this woman’s lack of status and esteem, exposing them as the product

3_{This celebration of Black history has long been a means rejecting white supremacist values and the stigma attached} to one’s identity as African American (Shelby, 2002, 256)

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of a long history of attempts to devalue African American womanhood to justify oppression (hooks, 1981, C2). They would also provide an explanation of this woman’s need for welfare that is not rooted in myths of her inferiority: her historic oppression. In addition, reparations would stress the historic contribution of African Americans to the US, meaning she would now be seen as a ‘deserving’ (see Soss, 2005) recipient of welfare.Redistributive measures would no longer be seen as evidence of her innate inferiority, but as justified in light of the historic

oppression of African Americans and their contributions to the US.

I want to be careful not to overstate my argument here. To clarify, I do not argue reparations would completely eliminate the lack of social status and esteem that drives African American sociocultural democratic powerlessness; nor do I argue any solution that does not take history into account cannot help whatsoever. I simply argue that without reparations, the

dominant historic myths that drive a diminished social status and esteem in African Americans cannot be effectively challenged. Indeed, as we have seen, without reparations, well intentioned solutions from liberal justice may even reinforce these myths.

Finally, I would like to briefly acknowledge a possible objection to my argument. One might object that we can challenge these historic myths of inferiority via means other than reparations. For instance, why could this not be achieved by simply changing the school curriculum? In response, I claim three things. First, whilst this would be a start, it could not nearly offer the breadth and depth a reparations programme could. Myths of African American inferiority are so long held and deeply ingrained in the American psyche that they are ideological in that they are somewhat resistant to evidence (Mills, 2007). Thus, if we really want to properly challenge them, a continuous and holistic range of measures will be necessary; only reparations can offer this. Second, unless there are reparations explicitly for slavery, Jim Crow, and

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subsequent racial oppression, these injustices would still exist as an affront to the dignity of African Americans, in that they occurred and have not even been acknowledged, let alone compensated for. The only way this can change is through reparations. Third, as reparations would also involve massive material payment, they are advantageous to merely introducing efforts to educate the citizenry in that they can also address the material poverty that contributes to a diminished status.

5.3. The Psychological

Finally, I shall consider how reparations would address the psychological aspect of African American democratic powerlessness. Here, reparations are again necessary, because only reparations can offer the proper apology for America’s oppressive racial history that is essential in repairing the relationship and restoring trust between African Americans and the state.

In section 3, I defined the psychological aspect of democratic power thus: having the collective memory necessary to have a fruitful relationship with the state. In this regard, African Americans suffer democratic powerlessness because of their collective memory of state

terrorisation, which causes them to deeply mistrust and have negative feelings towards the state and the political process. How can this be addressed? Here, one might object that there is no need for reparation, as redistributive solutions from liberal justice would suffice if they improved the material condition of African Americans to the point that they forgave or forgot their historic mistreatment.

I deny this is true. If African American mistrust of the government was the consequence of one or two mistakes, then a present redistribution of resources might suffice. But what the logic of liberal justice fails to realise is that some issues are more than simply matters of a

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present redistribution (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 585). In this case, mistrust of the state is the result of a collective memory born out of a history of 400 years of racist structural oppression and exclusion; it is naive to assume redistributive measures would be enough to address this. In addition, without an acknowledgement of this history, African Americans will likely mistrust any effort on the part of the state that purports to aid them, meaning it will likely be ineffective (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 585).

What could a reparations programme do in repairing this relationship? Here, reparations can openly and publicly acknowledge America’s brutal racial history (Ogletree, 2003, 1062) through the issue of a public apology4 for this history. There are various ways this might happen, the most obvious of which being the issue of an official statement of apology for public record by a political leader. However, I also favour the establishment of an annual day of

commemoration, as its continuous nature means the apology is not forgotten as time progresses (Weyeneth, 2001, 12-14). Finally, an apology might come in the form of the dissemination of written apologies from government officials.

However, by ‘apology’, I mean something much more than the simple act of saying ‘sorry’. Here, I claim for an apology to be optimal in addressing the psychological aspect of African American democratic powerlessness, it must be holistic, necessary, and genuine. By

holistic, I mean the apology should not come only in one form. Reparations should make use of

the wide range of measures outlined above, so as to reinforce the message that the state truly is sorry to its African American citizenry. For instance, a programme of apology might include an official apology issued by the President on national television, the establishment of a national day of memorial, and also come in written form in a popular national newspaper.

4_{This idea is not a new one: various institutions and individuals in the US have offered ‘apologies’ for slavery over} the last few decades (see Davis, 2014)

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Second, by necessary, I mean there must be no doubt as to whether an apology is required (McGary, 2003, 102). In other words, the state must show that it fully understands the harm its actions have caused, as it is “important for the victims of wrongdoing to know that the perpetrators realize what they have done and how the victims have been affected by their actions” (McGary, 2003, 103). The state must be unambiguous in showing why an apology is necessary by explicitly highlighting the sheer brutality and horror of slavery, Jim Crow, and subsequent racial oppression, and how these injustices continue to debilitate African Americans in many areas of life to this day.

This can be contrasted to the various actually-existing ‘apologies’ offered by individuals and institutions in the US. For instance, consider Bill Clinton’s remarks, during a 1998 trip to Uganda, that “Going back to the time before we were even a nation, European-Americans received the fruits of the slave trade, and we were wrong in that” (quoted in Balfour, 2005, 786). Here, Clinton’s vague vocabulary portrays slavery as some nebulous force that mysteriously happened to benefit white America; he fails to mention white America was in fact the driving force behind it. In addition, consider the apology resolutions introduced by various US states (Davis, 2014, 273-279). These ‘apologies’ make little mention of the myriad ways in which slavery impacts contemporary American society, disadvantaging Blacks and advantaging whites (Davis, 2014, 276). In contrast, the apology I am advocating for would make it explicitly clear, in unambiguous language, why it is necessary.

Third, by genuine, I mean the state would have to show the words of the apology are not empty. In other words, the state would have to show it really is sorry. This is because “to

apologise, but not to offer to return one's unfair benefits, casts doubt on one's sincerity”

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of other forms of payment to come with the apology (McGary, 2010, 552). For instance, the massive material payment to the African American community in the form of cash or services that I argued for in section 5.1 would perhaps suffice to show the apology was genuine. Indeed, an apology without material payment would rightly be seen as a largely hollow gesture that carries no genuine commitment to repair the damage done by slavery and Jim Crow. Again, this genuine apology can be contrasted with the largely meaningless attempts to apologise mentioned above, which offered no material compensation whatsoever (Davis, 2014, 275).

This holistic, necessary, and genuine apology would provide African Americans with concrete evidence for two things: 1) the state is truly sorry for and regrets its actions; and 2) the currently-existing state differs from its predecessors in that it is willing to break with the racial injustice and oppression of the past (Spinner-Halev, 2007, 586). I find it difficult to imagine how the relationship between African Americans and the state can even begin to repair without these things. Given the US’s history of brutal racial oppression, we cannot rationally expect African Americans to trust their government and politically participate unless they believe a) the state is sorry, and b) the current state is breaking with its racist history.

In this way, reparations are a mechanism by which the state can attempt to ‘win over’ African Americans by showing them they are committed to the same norms and values they themselves are, such as racial equality and mutual respect (De Greiff, 2006, 462). This would improve the trust African Americans have in their government, as trust is fundamentally a matter of expectations of a shared normative commitment: if I know that me and another are committed to the same norms and values, I can trust she will act in a certain way in pursuit of these values (De Greiff, 2006, 462). African Americans are simply much more likely to believe they can

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achieve their aims through the political process and therefore more likely to participate if they believe their government is committed to the same values as they are.

To clarify, I am not arguing reparations would be the great peacemaker between African Americans and their government, and all past crimes would be forgiven and forgotten. I simply argue they are a necessary first step towards the reconciliation of the relationship between these two parties. As reparations are the only existing proposal that can provide a holistic, necessary, and genuine apology for historic racial oppression in the US, they are necessary in addressing the psychological aspect of African American democratic powerlessness. In sum, it is now possible to succinctly state my argument thus:

1) African Americans suffer democratic powerlessness in all three of its aspects: material, sociocultural, and psychological.

2) Addressing all three individual aspects of democratic powerlessness is essential to addressing democratic powerlessness as a whole.

3) Reparations are the only existing solution that can properly address all three aspects of African American democratic powerlessness.

C) Reparations are necessary in addressing African American democratic powerlessness. 4) African American democratic powerlessness is a central problem for democracy. C2) Reparations are necessary for democracy in the US.

6. Reinforcing Victimhood

In recent decades, various leftist scholars have sought to critique the apparent proliferation of “politicised identity”, otherwise known as “identity politics” (see Brown, 1996; Gitlin, 1993).

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Here I outline one of these criticisms and apply it to my argument. This objection can be outlined as follows: reparations would only serve to reinforce a sense of victimhood in African Americans and increase state repression over them.

What is the so-called politicisation of identity? In recent decades, historically oppressed or marginalised groups - gays, Blacks, Indigenous peoples, and so on - have reformulated their historic exclusion as a politically rich identity, seeking to make political claims out of this

marginalisation and exclusion (Brown, 1996, 53). The critique of this politicised identity I would like to analyse in detail can be referred to as ‘victimisation’ and has been most thoughtfully and deeply articulated by Wendy Brown (1996, C3).

Brown claims that by constructing a political culture and critique out of their historic exclusion, marginalised groups’ identity becomes based in this very exclusion and marginality. The fact that one is excluded by the dominant culture becomes central to one’s identity; indeed, one’s identity depends on this exclusion from some supposedly legitimate centre for its very existence (Brown, 1996, 53-65). In addition, the force of the political claims group members can make rests upon the fact of their historic exclusion and marginalisation. This means one’s identity becomes fixated on the fact one is marginal, excluded, deviant, or Other: this is what Brown refers to as “the wounded character of politicised identity” (1996, 55).

The Nietzschean idea of ressentiment, the “moralizing revenge of the powerless” (Brown, 1996, 66) is often invoked here. A politics of ressentiment fixes the social positions of the

powerful and powerless, with the latter continually seeking vengeful recrimination on the former. Those motivated by ressentiment are driven to see themselves as morally pure, powerless, and victimised, as opposed to their powerful and evil oppressors (Tapper, 1993, 134). Brown argues that, for various historic, political, and economic reasons, the modern liberal subject ‘literally

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seethes’ with ressentiment. This engenders a further attachment to one’s exclusion and

marginalisation, as it is this that serves as the basis for claims of vengeful recrimination on one’s oppressors (Brown, 1996, 69-70).

Thus, we can see how the self produced by politicised identity in an age of ressentiment becomes obsessed with its own suffering, powerlessness, and victimisation; it “enunciates itself, makes claims for itself, only by entrenching, restating, dramatizing, and inscribing its pain in politics” (Brown, 1996, 74). A consequence of this is the need to turn to the state for protection, thus increasing the state’s coercive and regulatory powers. This is troubling due to the role the state has often played in the historic oppression of these very groups that are turning to it for help (Brown, 1996, C7).

Although this critique of ‘victimisation’ is advanced as an objection to politicised identity more generally, it is clear how it might be applied to an argument for African American

reparations such as mine. By continually restating America’s oppressive racial history, stressing what Saidiya Hartman refers to as the “spectacular character of Black suffering” (1997, 3), reparations may only reinforce a sense of victimisation, powerlessness, and self-suffering in African Americans (Balfour, 2005, 791). For instance, in section 5.2, I argued for various

measures to deeply elucidate the brutal history of African American oppression. This retelling of a history of suffering may create and perpetuate a sense of eternal victimhood and powerlessness in African Americans, reopening the wounds inflicted upon them throughout history, continually reminding themselves and others of their historic victimisation.

Reparations might also further a sense of victimisation in African Americans because they are more likely to be accepted if African Americans are portrayed as powerless victims. Here, critical race theorist Patricia Williams has highlighted how the most successful legal

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defences in US law are often when the victim is portrayed as helpless and powerless (1991, 155-156). Furthermore, Brown’s (1996, C7) worry about the extended state power that identity politics engenders is also particularly applicable here. The reparations programme I have outlined would be carried out by the state itself - this increased coercive and regulatory power could be especially problematic for African Americans given the historic role the state has played in mediating and propagating white supremacy (see Coates, 2014, Making the Second Ghetto).

If the above critique is valid, then contra my argument, it is difficult to believe reparations would be an effective means of addressing African American democratic

powerlessness. The reinforced sense of victimhood and self-suffering that reparations would perpetuate would in fact lead to a lessened social status and esteem, meaning African American sociocultural democratic powerlessness would only worsen. In addition, the expanded regulatory state power required by reparations might lead to increased state repression of African

Americans, thus reinforcing a collective memory of oppression and worsening their

psychological democratic powerlessness. Thus, Brown’s objection is a serious one and one which I must deal with.

7. Reparations to Empower

Whilst I do not take the objection to my argument outlined above lightly, here I argue there are ways a reparations programme for African Americans can obviate these concerns. Brown’s analysis does not highlight any necessary consequences of reparations, as they can instead be used to empower African Americans and democratise US politics.

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In response to Brown’s objection, I would first like to point out that I find the critique of the supposedly recent “proliferation and politicisation of identities in the US” (Brown, 1996, 54) to be curious in a fundamental sense, as these identities are inherently political in the first place. When one’s identity has a profound effect on the resources one has access to and the political influence one has, it is difficult to see how it could be anything other than political to begin with. In the African American case, everything from slavery itself, to economic exploitation, the denial of civic rights, and mass incarceration have all revolved around one’s identity as African

American (Ross, 2000, 833). When one’s identity has such profound political consequences, how can it not be political?

Thus, as Bickford has argued, in a context whereby one’s identity is the basis of one’s oppression, “it is hard to imagine how one could articulate a political claim against oppression without naming group identities.” (1997, 119). This necessity of ‘politicised’ identity to emancipatory politics for oppressed groups is evident in the Combahee River Collective’s seminal statement concerning Black feminist identity politics, as they argue “the most profound and potentially most radical politics come directly out of our own identity” (Combahee River Collective, 1982, 16). This being the case, would it not be better to take these identities as they are (inherently political) and to develop emancipatory politics from there?

Moreover, we might ask what narratives Brown’s analysis reinforces, and what perception of the African American subject they invoke. Here, I refer back to Brown’s

contention that the politicised identity becomes “attached to its own exclusion” (1996, 73). This is blind to the fact that “to see identity claims as obsessed with suffering is to overlook the fact that it is the perspective of the dominant culture that marks them out that way.” (Bickford, 1997, 117). Indeed, the contention that African Americans are obsessed with their own suffering

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reinforces dominant narratives of the ubiquity of racial minorities ‘playing the race card’ by continuously and erroneously blaming all of their misfortune on racial oppression. On this reactionary view, African Americans are all too keen to cast themselves as history’s victims, instead of looking to the future and working hard to ‘make it’ in America (Ogletree, 2003, 1053-1054).

I find it at best disingenuous to be aware of the centuries of suffering African Americans have endured, only to deride them as obsessed with this suffering the minute they voice a political claim in light of it. In addition, implied in the contention that it is actually not in the interest of African Americans to receive reparations, because unbeknownst to them, reparations would in fact worsen their condition, is the paternalistic notion that those many African

Americans who do want reparations (see Andrew, 2019) do not actually know what is best for them. This reinforces a historic tendency of whiteness to paternalism (Yancy, 2004, 14),

supporting racist notions that, due to inherent inferiority, African Americans are simply unable to effectively self-govern and truly know what is best for them (Mills, 1997, 24-27).

The third point I would like to make regarding the victimisation objectionis that whilst this might outline some of the possible consequences of reparations for African Americans, it does not outline any necessary consequences (Balfour, 2005, 791). Indeed, I claim the

reparations programme I have outlined would empower African Americans instead of portraying them as the powerless victims Brown’s analysis suggests. For it is not the case that the African American history a reparative programme would restate is solely “a past of injury, a past as a hurt will” (Brown, 1996, 74); it is also a history of immense achievement, survival, and courage in the face of oppression (Balfour, 2005, 792). The retelling of this history need not create and

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perpetuate a public identity that is overly focused on its own suffering and victimisation, but can engender a sense of pride and pleasure in one’s identity as African American (see Ross, 2000).

Reparations could do this by using the symbolic measures to stress historic African American achievement in the US that I outlined in section 5.2. In addition, by highlighting heroic African American resistance against oppression, reparations could avoid portraying African Americans as passive and powerless. This depiction of African American history as one of courage and heroic resistance can be found in the work of Black feminist scholars such as bell hooks, who contends the history of African American women is a history that “is full of heroic struggle, a struggle against fearful and overwhelming odds” (1981, 15), and that their legacy is a “legacy of defiance, of will, of courage” (1989, 28).

Relatedly, reparations should be thought of not as some desperate appeal to the powerful on behalf of the powerless, but a demand fuelled by righteous indignation and anger that an equal and worthy group has not been treated as such. Here, Audre Lorde (1984, C13) is helpful in outlining the political uses of anger. Lorde explains how her response to the sexism and racism she experienced as an African American woman is not helplessness, but anger; and anger is not a passive emotion, but actively seeks political change (1984, 129). Lorde’s powerful words “what you hear in my voice is fury, not suffering. Anger, not moral authority. There is a

difference” (1984, 132) are particularly pertinent here. Calls for reparation should not be

perceived as an assertion of suffering and powerlessness, but anger at one’s historic mistreatment and a demand that something is done to recognise this.

Here I refer back to Brown’s contention that the politicised identity engenders a sense of self-suffering, powerlessness, and victimhood (1996, 74). The analysis above shows this is simply not the case with regard to African American reparations. On the contrary, reparations

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can be a means of celebrating the historic achievement, courage, and survival of African

Americans despite centuries of oppression. Thus, the public identity promulgated by reparations need not be one of suffering and powerlessness, but courage and strength. Reparations can be a means of the African American community saying: historically, power has been exercised in an unjust manner against us; we are equal and we deserve to be treated as such; we demand that something is done to repair this. Surely to deny this, and to accept centuries of oppression without anything in return, is more akin to asserting powerlessness and victimhood (Brooks, 2004, 191).

But what of the point regarding the extended regulatory powers of the state that

reparations would require? Here, the state’s historic role as a repressive force does not mean we should automatically abandon any effort to remake it in a more democratic manner (Balfour, 2005, 798). It is not an inconsistent position to accept that, historically, the American state has been a purveyor of violence and repression against racial minorities, whilst also trying to use its power for emancipatory ends - this is evident in social movements such as the Civil Rights Movement. Thus, it is surely better to try to improve the state and use it for democratic ends than to cede its power to forces aiming to maintain the oppressive racial status quo (Balfour, 2005, 798).

Another crucial point I would like to make here is as follows. Whilst in this paper I have outlined some of the general contours of a reparations programme to counter African American democratic powerlessness, it is integral that this programme should itself be designed and implemented democratically. What I mean by this is the input of African Americans themselves should be absolutely central to any reparations programme (Nuti, 2019, 167). African American people from various backgrounds (e.g. the working-class, sexual minorities, academics, and

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women) should have a substantial amount of power over the design and implementation of a reparations programme.

This democratic and participatory approach to reparations that centres the perspective of African Americans would serve two purposes: first, it would avoid excluding certain historically marginalised viewpoints (Nuti, 2019, 167); second, we may now return to Brown’s earlier claim that an increased reliance on the coercive and regulatory powers of the state is problematic (1996, C7). In response, I contend that giving African Americans themselves power in deciding the approach to reparations would mean state power would not be used to increase African American oppression.

It is beyond the scope of this paper to deeply consider questions of how exactly decisions regarding the approach to African Americans reparations might be arrived at. However, I find the approach advocated by Amighetti & Nuti (2015), whereby the wronged and the wrongdoer deliberate in the deliberative democratic forum, to be convincing. In addition, the question of how long reparations should continue for is also beyond the scope of this paper; however, if the aim is to counter African American democratic powerlessness, payment should continue until the democratic power of white and Black Americans is relatively equal. Reparations could be

recursive (Mansbridge, 2018)in that they could involve continuous dialogue between the

relevant parties until there is relative equality in democratic power. To note, I am fully aware that due to the vast disparities in democratic power that exist between racial groups, even with

reparations, this may never be the case - I have argued reparations are necessary, not sufficient in solving African American democratic powerlessness.

Of course, this reparations programme to counter African American democratic powerlessness is likely to be exorbitantly expensive. However, the price we are willing to pay

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will depend on the arguments we have in favour of reparations. As I remarked in section 2, if reparations are believed to be necessary for democracy in the US, then (perhaps) the American public will be more willing to pay for them. Thus, it is the job of democratic theorists to continue to produce convincing democratic arguments for reparations - this is what I hope to have

achieved in this paper.

8. Conclusion

In this paper I have primarily done four things. First, I situated the paper within the existing literature, outlining how it is novel in that it takes a democratic approach to reparations, rather than a justice approach. Second, I defined the concept of ‘democratic power’, identifying its three aspects as the material, sociocultural, and psychological. I explained that African American democratic powerlessness is a central problem for democracy, and one which democratic theory must solve.

Third, I advocated for reparations as a means of solving African American democratic powerlessness. I argued reparations are an effective mechanism through which to address democratic powerlessness in all three of its aspects. In particular, I argued reparations are necessary in doing this because solving the sociocultural and psychological aspects requires attention to history, as this is essential in effectively challenging myths of African American inferiority, as well as in repairing the relationship and restoring trust between African Americans and the state. Finally, I analysed an objection to my argument that contends reparations would reinforce a sense of victimhood in recipients. In response, I argued it is perfectly feasible to design a reparations programme that does not fall prey to these concerns and suggested some ways to do so. In sum, I have shown that reparations are essential for democracy in the US,

A Democratic Defence of Reparations

A Democratic Defence of Reparations

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