Blackface scandals reignite debate about Zulu tradition
18th February 2019 · 0 Comments
When Virginia Democratic Governor Ralph Northam was called out for wearing blade in his high school yearbook, is sparked a national discussion about the shameful history of blackface and is impact on the psyche of people of color.
Nowhere is that debate more intense than in New Orleans where the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club members paint their faces black and don+ unkempt wigs every Mardi Gras.
The practice dates back to the early days of the 20th century when Zulu’s founders decided to use their outrageous costumes to mock white Carnival krewes and challenge racist stereotypes and caricatures of Black people.
The tradition has gained Zulu international attention and made it arguably New Orleans’ most popular organization.
But the tradition has not been without its critics.
In the 1970s some of the city’s Black leaders and residents boycotted Zulu because of the black face paint as the “Black is beautiful” era gained momentum.
In the late 1990s, Zulu member Dr. Morris F.X. Jeff Jr. wore a scathing letter to the organization after he and several guests were turned away from the Zulu Coronation Ball for wearing authentic African clothing rather than the customary tuxedos and ball gowns.
This latest flap has led to a growing number of residents calling for Zulu yo do away with the blackface tradition altogether.
“’Blackface’ minstrelsy was a racist and vile form of entertainment popular from the 1820’s through the 1960’s,” Zulu said in a statement last week. “Blackface minstrel shows attempted to mimic enslaved Africans on Southern plantations and depicted black people as lazy, ignorant, and cowardly. In fact, one of the most popular ‘blackface’ minstrelsy characters in America was ‘Jim Crow’ – the inspiration for the harsh and oppressive laws that terrorized Southern Blacks decades later. ‘Blackface’ minstrel performances were intended to be funny to white audiences and hurtful to the Black community.
“Unfortunately, some ignorant people continue to costume in ‘blackface’ minstrelsy through today. Shocking photographs periodically come to light exposing the fact that even some of our most respected citizens still engage in this racist behavior. Recent photographs showing certain high-profile individuals dressed as ‘blackface’ minstrels reveal their hateful intent to demean, disrespect, discount, and demoralize African Americans. The backlash to their conduct has thankfully been severe and the Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club, Inc. joins with countless others in condemning this behavior.
Unfortunately, the offensive conduct of these individuals might cause some to confuse those racist actions with our rich history and traditions – which include wearing black makeup during the Zulu parade. Those who incorrectly compare our use of black makeup to ‘blackface’ minstrelsy can first look to our name to dispel that notion. Unlike minstrelsy, which was designed to ridicule and mock Black people, the founders of our Social Aid & Pleasure Club chose the name “Zulu” to honor their African ancestry and the continent’s most fierce warriors. (The South African Zulu tribe, using vastly inferior weapons, defeated the British Army in 1879 in the Battle of Isandlwana handing Britain their worst defeat in history.) Zulu parade costumes bear no resemblance to the costumes worn by ‘blackface’ minstrel performers at the turn of the century. Zulu parade costumes more closely resemble and are designed to honor garments worn by South African Zulu warriors.
“In conclusion, Loyola Univer-sity New Orleans Professor C.W. Cannon has offered insightful commentary on and historical context for Zulu and its tradition of masking by using black makeup stating:
“It’s hard to measure the scope of Zulu’s influence on what the Times-Picayune’s Doug MacCash has called the ‘new’ Mardi Gras, and on what I have called the restoration of carnivalesque carnival, after the dark ages of the white supremacist anti-carnival ushered in by the (formerly and currently segregated Krewes). It’s a remarkable testament to the resilience of carnival spirit that, in the midst of the white supremacist era . . . the Zulu king first stepped off a banana boat in the New Basin canal wearing a lard can crown. The date: 1909. That’s why it’s so upsetting — also a bit absurd — when people who have no understanding or appreciation for carnival aesthetics and social analysis chime in from hundreds of miles away with self-righteous finger-wagging. What they’re about is shaming traditions that are far more revolutionary than they are able to comprehend… ‘Zulu blackface,’ the style of blackface worn by Zulu riders, is distinct from other forms of blackface viewed as offensive due to their history as a tool of white supremacist ideology . . . It calls into question the extent to which Black people should be allowed agency in representing their own experience; it also places limits on how Black people themselves choose to enunciate anti-racist arguments. In the best traditions of carnivalesque practice, Zulu has expropriated racist representations and inverted them as a form of anti-racist resistance. Those who say people shouldn’t try to do that kind of thing just don’t get what carnival is. Maybe because it’s not part of their culture. But it is a part of ours.”
Not everyone is buying Zulu’s defense of its back face painting tradition.
One WBOK radio caller suggested last week that Zulu trade in the black face paint and wigs for African masks.
WBOK talk-show host Chuck Perkins, who has rode with the Zulus on four occasions , said last week that he won’t ride again after learning about the history of blackface and how it has impacted Black people.
He said abandoning the tradition would be every bit as significant as taking down four Confederate-era monuments in New Orleans.
“When the Zulus first did it, it was brilliant,” Mark Collins told The Louisiana Weekly. “But it is a tradition that has outlived its usefulness. Like sagging pants and use of the N-word, it is degrading and offensive to most Black people.”
“There’s not enough money in the world to make me put on black paint and hand out coconuts and spears to people,” Keith Sundiata told The Louisiana Weekly. “I would never disrespect our ancestors like that.”
This article originally published in the February 18, 2019 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.
