Bill Kelly
10 min readAug 31, 2022

CORNEL WEST: THE POLITICS OF LOVE

Race Matters

For me, the writer who brought the most clarity and insight to understanding race in the United States was Cornel West. In 1991, my friend Angelo Lewis who was working at Princeton had interviewed Cornel West and wrote a highly positive article about him. I had never heard of West, but in 1993, Race Matters appeared and established West as perhaps the leading commentator on African-American life. Returning to the US in the late 1990s, I devoured the short book and began reading his other works as well.

West quickly became my favorite social critic. His spiritual orientation looked to the Old Testament prophets who criticized social injustice. What impressed me most was West’s comprehensive view of the African-American situation and his ability to navigate racial controversies with a sure hand and clear vision. Mainstream commentators had often viewed African-Americans as a problem people and characterized resistance to white supremacy as separatist and antiwhite. Like Baldwin, West didn’t see black Americans as a blemish on American society. He noted that if we want to seriously discuss race in America, the starting point is the historic inequalities and cultural stereotypes of American society, that is, the flaws that characterize American society. Also, in the spirit of Baldwin, West asserted that black people are a fundamental part of American life. They are not outsiders who must become like white people in order to merit inclusion.

West’s position was neither assimilationist nor separatist, even though he supported integration. He understood black nationalism as resistance on the part of black people to mainstream pressures to fit in. Yet, he was critical of the negative elements of African-American culture such as tendencies toward homophobia and sexism. His conviction was that members of oppressed groups together with progressive whites and women can create a new culture and institutions that are radically democratic.

West explained how to usher in a radical democracy that would enable black Americans to flourish. He showed that both the simplistic liberal and conservative approaches to racial uplift didn’t work. It isn’t enough to bring about structural change by initiating more government projects. And liberals also have to be willing to criticize African-Americans when their behavior does not meet ethical and political standards; that is, they need to give black Americans the freedom to make mistakes. But the conservative view that the race problem is due to the immorality of poor black people ignores the public responsibility for creating the oppressive conditions that make such behavior far more likely. Poor black men should get married, take care of their children, and not engage in criminal activity, but the larger society should actively promote stable families and communities through good education, full employment at a living wage, health programs, child-care services, and far-reaching affirmative action.

West’s approach to racial matters deeply satisfied me. My spiritual outlook had alerted me to the crucial role that personal change plays in the creation of a more just and free society. So I could not advocate social change while leaving out the cultural conditions in black America. And, as West described them, these conditions were dire indeed. He didn’t hold back when he stated that debates about life in black America should start with the nihilism that is spreading through black communities. His description of such nihilism was equally sobering, since he characterizes it as “a numbing detachment from others and a self-destructive disposition toward the world. Life without meaning, hope, and love breeds a coldhearted, mean-spirited outlook that destroys both the individual and others.”

In answering the question about how such nihilism came about, West pointed to the decline of black religious and civic institutions that support families and communities. He also made the connection between the culture of nihilism and corporate market institutions. In their pursuit of profit, such institutions have weakened traditional morality by reducing people to objects of pleasure. African-Americans are no different from other Americans in being bombarded by media messages upholding the values of comfort, convenience, masculine dominance, violence, and sexual stimulation. Unsurprisingly, the way of life promoted by the market comes to take precedence over the older cultural values of love, care, and service to others.

I thought West had persuasively demonstrated how the economic system strongly influences culture, even though it doesn’t determine it. Therefore it made sense to say that the structural conditions in which black suffering is situated must change but that is not all. The nihilistic threat must be directly confronted through self-affirmation and self-love as well as care for others. The new politics must be led by people deserving of love and respect who are accountable to the organizations they lead. This approach to politics is spiritual and emphasizes moral qualities such as integrity and character. For me, West’s integration of the structural and moral dimensions into a political stance was inspiring and practical.

Multiculturalism

Upon my return to the United States, I felt challenged to come to terms with the notion of multiculturalism as well as with racial matters. The vehemence of arguments against political correctness and identity politics surprised me. I read attacks from the right like Alan Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind and attacks from the left like Todd Gitlin’s The Twilight of Common Dreams. But I felt that it was West who had the clearest understanding of the culture wars and took the most sensible position. It was West’s strong roots in his own African-American tradition plus his great familiarity and appreciation for European culture that enabled him to expertly advance through the many mine fields awaiting the critic.

In “The New Cultural Politics of Difference,” West starts off by outlining the historical context of the current debate over cultural politics. He divides the recent history of the world into three major periods: the Age of Europe (1492–1945), the Age of America (1945–1973), and the Age of Decolonization (1973-present). What impressed me most about his analysis was the clear connection made between decolonization in the Third World and the rise of new social movements in the United States. Since I had spent eight months in Africa, I was aware of the gap between American representations of Africa and the reality that I was experiencing. Non-Western cultures were being judged from an alien value standpoint and lacked adequate means to mount a defense against negative portrayals in the world media.

In West’s view, the struggles of people of color abroad to escape from Western cultural hegemony influenced similar efforts made by people of color domestically to get out from under White cultural domination. And it was the struggles in the United States that created the context for later controversies over the traditional Western canon and its allegedly universal validity. For West, the decolonization movements had inspired the Civil Rights and Black Power movements, as well as the other social movements that became influential during the late 1960s such as the antiwar, feminist, Chicano, and gay liberation movements.

West pointed out that the arrival of previously silenced groups onto the cultural scene threatened white male WASPs with the loss of their cultural centrality and ability to dominate the national discourse. Their attempts to enforce cultural homogeneity were viewed by ethnic groups as exclusionary and they resented being pressured to remain silent and to accept the reigning ideologies and cultural dictates of the dominant group. Thus West was critiquing the false universalism of Matthew Arnold’s notion of culture as the best and highest knowledge and ideas. At the same time, he made the valid case for cultural self-assertion among marginalized groups that have not been included in the Western canon.

West also put forward the reasons for the black American quest for cultural autonomy. Black Americans were invisible due to the shortage of opportunities for black people to project their complex humanity. They also had to counteract the proliferation of negative and degrading stereotypes that stem from white supremacist attitudes. So there was a great need to gain greater control of cultural production and to generate self-love.

The cultural politics of difference that West promoted nicely surmounts the polarized opposition between Eurocentrism and multiculturalism, and between cultural assimilation and cultural separation. He considered himself a prophetic critic, someone who is “attuned to the best of what the mainstream has to offer — its paradigms, viewpoints, and methods — yet maintains a grounding in affirming and enabling subcultures of criticism.” In other words, the intellectual and artist of color is a freedom fighter, staying close enough to the mainstream to affect it but aligning with groups who maintain traditions of criticism and resistance. West believed in being open to the mainstream without being coopted by it and in being part of a cultural group or subculture without adopting a fortress mentality.

These days, West talks more about the importance of being multicontextual rather than multicultural. Being sensitive to the context, as when he teaches prisoners, means tuning into the situation, no matter how messy; it requires improvisation as well as being flexible and fluid. But don’t turn multicontextualism into an ideal. In the day-to-day struggles, the important thing is to live with integrity and practical wisdom.

Prison Cells

The Democratic Intellectual

I have discussed West’s ideas in order to give an idea of his brilliance, range, and insight as a cultural critic. Thirty years later, I still marvel at the richness of his thinking and his ability to range over vast regions of human history and culture. I agree with Michael Eric Dyson’s judgment of West at the top of his game: “West is, in my estimation, the most exciting black American scholar ever. At his peak, each new idea topped the last with greater vitality. His fluency in a remarkable range of disciplines spilled effortlessly from his pen, and the public performance of his massive erudition inspired many of his students to try to follow suit.”

However, as we entered the new millennium, it seemed that West’s intellectual production had fallen off. When I read his Democracy Matters, my high expectations were disappointed. Not much remained of the sharp analysis that had characterized his earlier critical performances. It seemed that he was merely stating his familiar positions while relying on numerous authors to lend credibility to his standpoint. Sustained treatment of the admittedly huge subject of democracy was lacking as exhortation replaced insight. I was intrigued by the breadth of his cultural references to people like Anton Chekhov, John Coltrane, and Toni Morrison, but little of what he wrote lingered in my mind.

West has been giving many lectures and talks for a very long time, and has said that he would rather reach people and transform their lives and thinking through speech than spend many years in libraries in order to produce a true masterpiece. Even though I no longer read his books, I find much inspiration listening to his talks and interviews that are online. He fully engages the people he speaks with and the people who come to listen to him, enjoying the opportunity to celebrate with others the critical spirit, the inquiring mind, the open heart. His humor, goodwill, and appreciation of others’ humanity enriches the content, and his rhetorical flourishes, preacher-like delivery, and verbal fluency are a treat.

West’s emphasis on love being at the center of political action touches my heart. He shares this anchoring of politics in love with bell hooks. She explored in depth the notion of psychic conversion and, like West, was influenced by Malcolm X’s liberating idea that black people must love themselves and free their minds from the negative characterizations of black people that had been spread by white America. Such a love ethic is essential for creating agency among oppressed peoples and is the basis upon which political resistance becomes possible. Both hooks and West spelled out the significance of love in the struggle against domination and often joined forces to combat the lack of love in people’s lives and in American political life.

West demonstrates in his speeches that there is no contradiction between being intellectually savvy and honing in on what matters to most people in their daily lives. His references cover a huge amount of ground ranging from the Western classics to the heroes of African-American culture like female blues singers and Curtis Mayfield, yet he is at home talking to prisoners, a regular engagement since 1979, and interacting with high school students. After all, one of his goals is to highlight the dignity of the ordinary person and the sanctity of the human being. He sees himself as a blues person with a tragicomic sensibility who keeps pushing on regardless of what is happening in this fallen country where gangsterism prevails. A blues person handles catastrophe gracefully and with dignity while bearing witness to the truth. He attributes his own survival and perseverance to his great good fortune of having received the deep love of his parents.

Personally, I feel enriched by West’s example as a democratic intellectual who seamlessly weaves political issues into his discussions of deep existential matters and moral and spiritual commitments. He exhorts all of us to be at our best, act with courage, and preserve the spirit of hope as we face unpromising situations. But even if events in the larger world turn out contrary to our wishes, there is still joy in serving others and doing all that we can do to empower our fellow humans as well as ourselves. Although he keeps up an arduous schedule and is totally committed to his vocation to spread the word, he emphasizes that he is putting forth a perspective, not the final truth. He is also willing to recognize his frailties and weaknesses, keeping his own fallibility in mind and never taking himself too seriously. I find his democratic persona attractive.

Bill Kelly
Bill Kelly

Written by Bill Kelly

American, 24 years abroad. Interests: philosophy, intercultural communication, spiritual practice, Asia. Author of A New World Arising

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