"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience

SA\"-'SAN ABDlJLRAHI1\l

\IOST OF TIiF 1.11 ERATl'jU: on Arab Americans weaves a relatively consis­

kilt narrative-s-one that celebrates the "assimilation" of an early wave of im­

migrants and bemoans the current "racialization" of the group. This narrative

recounts that, while Arabic-speaking immigrunts at the turn of the twentieth

(L'ntury faced prejudice, they overcame hardship and eventually joined the

'Amer ica n ma inst ream." At the same time, they became incorporated into

J1C United States' system of racial categorization as white. However, a number

"f political forces and events taking place over the past few decades brought

'his process to a halt, The Arab world and Islam presently embody the marked

Other" against which an American identity is constructed. By virtue of their

.ustor ica], cultural, and transnational connections to a perceived foreign en­

.ruv, Arab America ns a rc pushed outside the nat ional consensus and rna rked as

'he "enemy within.": As nation and race in the United States have histor icallv

.ntwined, \ it has been argued that members of the group feci the white ra­

.1.11 designation no longer reflects their experience (Samhan 1999; Maja] 2000;

\ .ibcr 20(0),

I, The krill "Arabic-speaking" has been used In other writings in reference to immigrants at

. turn ott h« twentieth rcntur yuccausc, "hile t nev spoke Arabir not ;111 necessarily identihed

\I'd!>,

2, ior writings on thc impact of September 11 on this process, see Cain k.ir 1200'+0) and

:gnpian (2004 J.

3, See Orni and vvinant (1'J'J'+ l.

131

._'

132 Sawsan Abdulrahim

Although the narrative sketched above has become dominant in Arab

American writings, its assumptions and omissions remain largely unexamined.'

On the one hand, the narrative on the early experience, in its focus on assimila­

tion, overlooks the highly racializcd process through which some immigrant

groups in the United States "became white." On the other hand, muny of the

recent writings on the racialization of Arab Americans, especial lv in a posr-Sep­

tcmher II environment, operate from the presumption that racializat ion oc­

curs only through movi ng away from "wh itencss," in a prcd ictablc truicctory,

and throuzh cnzuai ne in nonwhite racial formation.' In most of this literature, t"l L'o t" t"

white racial formation is rarely cr itically examined. Instead, matters pertaining

to "whiteness," and its relationship to power, remain obscured in favor of udvo­

eating for what is believed to be a slightlv more comfortable position for Arab

Americans vis-:I-vis an unexamined "white center."

The current essay utilizes a "critical whiteness" framework to examine this

white center look inc in from the discursive and margiuul posit ion Arab Arner i­t" ~ t

cans occupy on the racial h icra rchv, Th is discursive posit ion, often associated

ill Arab American writings with invisibility and erasure," ca n serve as a location

for the III arking and crit icaI eva luat ion of "wh itcncss." Given th.1I the mai n ob­

icct ive is to place "whiteness" at the forefront of the .ma lvsis, the essa)' docs not

address the question of whether Arab Americans are, or should be categorizt?d

,IS, white or nonwhite Instead, it asks the following question: In what ways call

an examination of Arab immigrants' interactions with race in the United States

describe and shed a new Iight on "whiteness?" In ot her words, when Arab Amer­

icans identify as nonwhite, why do they do so? /vnd, when the)' assert a white

ident ity, in what sense do they do so, for what benefits, and at what costs?

This chapter starts with a review of "whiteness" and Arab American lit­

cratures. It explores how-presently and in the IOC1] contexts of Detroit and

Dearborn-Arab immigrants describe, relate to, reinforce, or undermine

"whiteness" through narratives of their own identities. This examination rc­

.J, hL'eptions 10 this arc \\riling' hv Son.dl (;ualtieri (cOOl), Lisa Suh.iir ~t.ljai (cOOO'. an,l

Helen Sa mhun (I'N'!I,

~. (lmi and \\'in,ll1t define r.r. ial rorm.u ion as "t hc sociohistor ic.i! prOCl'" I", which raci.u

c,ltrgl1l'ie, art' created. inh.rbued. t ru n-Jormcd .•1J1d dcst roved" (!99.J, ~~ I.

n. On Arab Amcrica n il1\i,ibilitl'. -cc :\.ldinlo :\aber (cOI)O) and l.is.i Suhair ~hliai 120001.

7. These questions .irc adolpkd (1")[11 thc .ittcrwor.] to .-11''' ltalian, 1I'lilte hv ]{(lL'digL'r (cOO.",'

"Whiteness" and the A

quires both abandoning racc-:: .

ization and resisting the tcndcr.:

victims. The arguments put Il .:.,

examine how Arab irnmigr.m..

resent themselves within till' ",

The study examines Arab im: _

context, not only in relation,h:' .

ship to what Toni Morrison i'c',

explores how immigrants rcl.:.

process of organizing their r ,

chapter focuses on dcconst ri., .

express divergent views of t hl.·

Most writings on race in th,

the white racial category ,1'

however, there has been ,I f'r.'

cally concerned with whit" J"

"whiteness studies" or "crit i.. "

cia1categories, "whiteness" i' ,

negotiated by individual- .i n.i .

tion (Doane and Bonilla-Sil. .. ~

structuring system that 0f'l'r,::.,

subjects." In return, it offer' ".

Historically in the United St,)lc·

grant groups were included in ,,'

given new meanings by t ho-,c ,I. '

An integral component ,.:

historical processes through \\:'

H. The 'In.ll\'sis presented in (

S,'hoo! otPubli,' 11c.1Ith at the L"ll\ .:

'J, rill' term "black presl'llle"",,'

10, In .iddit ion to Ra'I11USSl'I1 CI ,

II. Sec hankenberg (cOO] I,

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 133

quires both abandoning race-neutral language of assimilation and American­

ization and resisting the tendency to situate Arab Americans solely as racialized

victims. The arguments put forth derive from a qualitative study that set out to

examine how Arab immigrants interact with the census race question and rep­

resent themselves within the confines of that official system of categorization.'

The study examines Arab immigrants' racial formation in a highly segregated

context, not only in relationship to the white racial category, but also in relation­

ship to what Toni Morrison refers to as a "black presence." In other words, it

explores how immigrants relate to "blackness"-"whiteness's Other"-in the

process of organizing their relationship to "whiteness." The discussion in this

chapter focuses on deconstructing the narratives of two Arab immigrants who

express divergent views of their racial identity.

W H 1T E:" E S S ,\ '.; II 1\1 \1 i c: R AT I () '.; [:" T J J F L' '.; [T L [) S T \'1 F S

Most writings on race in the United States hale focused on nonwhites treating

the white racial category as invisible, normative, and natural. In recent vcars,

however, there has been a proliferation of a new genre of race writings specifi­

c'llly concerned with white racial idcntitv formation. This work, referred to as

"whiteness studies" or "critical studies of whiteness," algues that, like other ra­

cial categories, "whiteness" is constructed, dynamic, and context-specific; it is

negotiated by individuals and collect ivcs as both an identity and a social posi­

'ion (Doane and Bonilla-Silva 2003; Rasmussen ct al. 20011. "Whiteness" is a

-t ructuring system that operates through "unknowing" and "unseeing" racial

-ubiccts." ln return, it offers its subjects a location of structural advantage."

: l istorica lly in the United States, "whiteness" has been a categorv that irurni­

_r,lnt groups were included in or excluded from, and an ideologv embraced and

_l\'en new meanings by those allowed cntr y into it (Roediger 2(02).

An integral component of "whiteness" studies has been to document the

i-torical processes through which different European immigrant groups at the

s, The .malvsi» I'rnenll'd in tile' c''',l)' is 1',\I't of t hc .uuhors diSSl'r1,ltlon research in the

"001 otl'ublic Hc.ilth at the L'nilwsitl'of:"lichig,ln, .vnn Arbor.

'1, The term "bl.ick presence" i, .iduptcd from TOI1l \lnrrison's 1'1(/}'ill~ ill th« l rar}: (J'1'1.)I.

IIJ, In .iddit ion tll Rasmussc'n et .il. 12IJIJ]), sec \Ia[c' r2IJIJ21.

II, Sec lr.uikcnbcrg (2IJIJ] I.

'

"Whiteness" and the AI134 Sawsan Abdulrahim

turn of the twentieth century gained white racial status.': This work demon­

strates that white racial consciousness was constructed through a highly con­

tested process with the participation of immigrants who were deemed to be

"in-between" or "not-yet-white." In an era when fitness for citizenship was being

hotly debated, immigrants allied themselves with African Americans at times,

while at other times they sought to assert their claims to citizenship and up­

ward socia I mobil itv by dista ncing themselves from them. l ; They fought agai nst

nativism not for the promise of a more equal society but for one divided by a

reformulated "whiteness" that has come to incorporate them (jacobson 1998;

Ignatiev 1995).ln his study on how the Irish became white, Ignatiev argues that,

through seeking white racial status, immigrants contributed to the consolida­

tion of an unreachable color line.

In their efforts to deconstruct "whiteness," scholars in the field have turned

many of their crit iques inward. Almost every collection of essays on "whiteness"

starts with an acknowledgment that the earliest-and most articulate-writinp

on "whiteness" a re by black aut hors who wrote on how white ideologies operate

to maintain inequality and oppression." As such, "whiteness" studies existed

long before the term itself came into common usage, even though contribution,

of nonwhite subjects to the field have only recently begun to be acknowledged a,

valid. Relatcdly, the dominant view that "whiteness is invisible" has come under

critique." As writings by authors of color indicate, while "whiteness" may be

invisible to those who benefit from it, it is certainlv visible to those who suffer

its consequences. II, Furthermore, an important critique of "whiteness" studies

addresses the risk that, in the process of deconstructing the category, one can

easily fall hack into conceptualizations that reifv race as opposed to challenging

it (Ware 2(02). While one of the goals of "whiteness" studies is to extend criti­

cal race theory by destabilizing socially constructed racial categories, the tield

continues to operate from a black-white dualism model and pays little attention

to identities that are neither white nor black.

12. Sec Rocdiger 1]991, 20021,llrodkiJ1 1199i\I,IJcol's0J1 iI99i\I,II,1J1l'\-['Jpl'l 119%1, ,111':

lgn.u icv (199) I,

U. Roediger 120021 dcmonst rate-, ho« this ['roll''' u ntolded in Colovc.! \l'iIirc.

l-l. 'Ihe 111'1>t frequent II' cited bl.u k aut hor-, on "whitcnc-;-," <If'' Ilu Bois I] 905 I, Fa non (\ %~ .

a n.! ~lorrison 1]9951.

]), On "wh itcncs-, as invisible," ,,'C "egg\' :--'Ll(lnlosh (19901.

16. For a cr it iquc of"whitcnc" ,I' invisible." scc Rut h l-r.mkcnbcrg 120011.

Two important questions rL':~~

ness" perspective. The first inqu.: .

white" but who did not profit fr, I:' .

ration of why groups or indivi.h.. .

quite white" continue to assert ,','.

are interrelated, the former h.i- ,

while the latter remains almovt C'

ing themes in Arab American 1\' .

white" but who currently do Ill': '.

is never made that there is a ( '''',''

creasing emphasis on their inv 1"

nonwhite racial formation ha-,1':"

of the group have engaged in 1\' '.

may continue to do so in the ['rl"

The main narrative on ALd­

early immigrants faced, and 11<>'" ..

and perseverance, The cconom i, ,.

ten explained by the cultural ',Ii .. ·

strong family ties, and indepl·nl'.'

\Var II, Arabic-speaking immlC::'

the economic and social ladder

city ... into the suburbs" (A,\\',I,:

lated " (Suleiman 1999). Be~'ond;~,'

position of "Arabs-as-white" 1\,1' , ..

migrants responded to the ra(I';~'

employed to gain citizenship rigl~:.

stead, the story of the Arab Am,: •.

trallanguage--the language of ,I .. "

A few writings, however, h.n l ..:

migrants interacted with a racial:"

which they "became white." In 1", ..

I~. Thi-, quest ion W.lS posed in t h,

II', This question permeate's the I: "

(2002 I,

19. On a review otcit izcnship cour: .

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 135

Two important questions remain ripe for exploration from a critical "white­

ness" perspective. The first inquires into what happened to those who "became

white" but who did not profit from their "whiteness.?" The second invites explo­

ration of why groups or individuals who are subordinated and racialized as "not

quite white" continue to assert a white identity." Although these two questions

are interrelated, the former has come to dominate in Arab American writings

while the latter remains almost completely overlooked. One of the most prevail ­

ing themes in Arab American writings is that they are a group who "became

.\ hitc" but who currently do not reap the benefits of "whiteness." While a claim

-, never made that there is a consensus on how Arab Americans identify, the in­

. rl'~lsing emphasis on their invisihilitv in the white category and engagement in

nonwhite racial formation has preempted a critical exploration of how members

(If the group have engaged in white racial formation in the past and how t hev

may continue to do so in the present.

The main narrative on Arab Americans describes the racism and exclusion

C.lrly immigrants faced, and how they' overcame the odds through hard work

.md perseverance. The economic achievements of members of the group are of­

ten explained by the cultural values they brought with them such as dedication,

-t rong family tics, and independence. This narrative recounts that, by World

War II, Arahic-speaking immigrants had "followed the middle-class path up

the economic and social ladder" (Naff 1994, 31), and "moved from the central

,it~· ... into the suburbs" (Aswad 1974, 10). In other words, they have "assirni­

l.itcd " (Suleiman 1(99). Beyond mention of a few court cases in which the racial

position of "Arabs- as-white" was questioned in the U.S. legal system." how im­

'l1igrants responded to the racism they encountered and the arguments they

employed to gain citizenship rights remain largely absent in these accounts. In­

-tcad, the story of the Arab American early wave is often narrated in racc-neu­

ual languagc-i-the language of assimilation.

A few writings, however, have criticallv explored how Arabic-speaking im­

:11igra nts interacted wit h a racia Iized s tructu re through a process at t he end of

.vhich they "became white." In looking at some historical documents, authors

17. This question \\'as posed in the introduction in I\asmlh"cn et al. 12()()1 t.

IR. This quest ion per mc.ucs the h istoricu] .uralvsi« of "whirenc--." presented by Roediger

~11()2).

19. On d rev ic\\' of c it izcns h iI' LOU rt ,'dSCS, s,',' \ 1,)",1d (199-' I a nJ Sulci man ( J999 J.

136 Sawsan Abdulrahim

Lisa Suhair Maia] (2000) and Helen Samhan (1999) argue that when Arabic­

speaking immigrants were faced with the threat oflosing citizenship rights, they

battled for white racial status within the context of white supremacy. In courts

and in the media, immigrants asserted that they were not "Asiatic" or "Negro"

but "civilized whites." Relying on similar documents, Sarah Gualtieri (2001)

further suggests that immigrants' active and organized participation played an

important role in their inclusion in the racial hierarchy as whites, and, more

important, in the shaping of the meanings of "whiteness" at that time.

WIIITF:"lSS ..vx n ARAB I\I\lI(;R ..\:"TS I,," IlFTROIT\:"ll llF.\RBOR:"

An exa mination of how Arab im migrants in Detroit and Dearborn, 1\1 ichigan,

presently engage in discourses on race and "whiteness" rests on two premises.

The first is that, even in a post-September II political climate, Arab Arncrican­

continue to exercise individual and collective agency in organizing their rela­

tionship to "whiteness." They are active subjects and not merely objects ora hos­

tile political discourse that sees them as terrorists and foreign, or ,1 sympathetic

discourse that sees them solely as racialized victims. The second premise is that

Arab 1\ rncrica us' cu rrent interact ions with race and "whiteness" are neither

monolithic nor homogeneous, but are varied and contingent. Arab immigrant>

in Detroit and Dearborn engage in different, even contradictory, racial idcut itx

formations; there are those who identify as white and those who identify as non­

white, and each identity choice is driven bv its own set of arguments. It is cxuct lv. . this divergence and tension that makes the study of "whiteness" from the point

of view of the Arab immigrant experience both provocative and pressing.

The discussion presented in this section draws on qualitative research car­

ried out among Arab immigrant owners of small businesses in Detroit and L L

Dearborn. The business owners occupy a distinct location in the local economic

structure and constitute a social class whose members share economic interest'

As previously indicated, the discussion will focus on the narrut ivcs of two A1',11,

immigrants who position themselves differently in relation to "whiteness" an.:

"blackness." Moreover, while I do not negate the value of research and wr it i nu­

on Arab Americans that address the effects of national- or global-level force" :

arguc that it is importa nt to pay close attention to the effects of the IOGl1 context

Specifically, making ovcrurching generalizations about Arab Americans Ill'!"

"Whiteness" and the A

obscure local historical and eCI ,""

tion. This is especially imporr.n-:

insiders and outsiders alike ,1' "

a suburb whose history is cnt« ::

(Georgakas and Surkin 1991'; "~.:-'.

Because of Detroit's rac i.il .,

an ideal location for a studx (>:

ropolitan area is home to thl' ()I,:, "

can community in the United ,.

unique opportunity to cx.uuir .

racial position of Arab Amcric.r.:

other, they constitute two 't',]",

tinue to have very little in COlll:~'

fers to the city of Detroit onl, ,l:~.: ..

Dearborn and other suburb, .. \ ,

and Dearborn may shed light II:: ..

in context how Arab Arneric.m- .

the economic structure in the I'.',

Detroit is one of the mo-: .

the United States (Massey al1,11 ', what has been termed the "u 1-1-.,"

Detroit's history has been OIh

and racial conflict. The citv, f""

rican American and 12.3 per(l':~:

Detroit's west side-was R6.') )'.',

American in the year 2000."

AIthough employment v, 1t i~

pull factors originally, a largl' r ...

rived in the Detroit mctropolr..'

ralization Act of 1965 and attc: .

restructuring had been set in .::

20. On the racial hisior v of Ilei:

21. Thl"l' data are obtained (,,,,,

22. Set' ShryOCK and Abra h.m: ~

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 137

obscure local historical and economic factors that shape racial identity forma­

tion. This is especially important in Detroit, a place that has come to be seen by

insiders and outsiders alike as a "black space" (Hartigan 1999), and Dearborn,

a suburb whose history is entwined with the maintenance of racia I segregation

(Georgakas and Surkin 1998; Sugrue 1996; Good 1989).

Because of Detroit's racial history and current racial context, it constitutes

an ideal location for a study of "whiteness." Moreover, because the city's met­

ropolitan area is home to the oldest and most highly concentrated Arab Ameri­

can community in the United States (Shryock and Abraham 2(00), it offers a

unique opportunity to examine "whiteness" from the discursive and marginal

racial position of Arab Americans. Although Detroit and Dearhorn border each

other, they constitute two spaces that have had conf1icting histories and con­

tinue to have very little in common today. Therefore, in this chapter, Detroit re­

fers to the city of Detroit ollly and not to the metropolitan area that encompasses

Dearborn and other suburbs. A quick summarv of the recent history of Detroit

,1I1d Dearborn may shed light on the rationale behind this distinction and place

in context how Arab Americans became integrated into the racial hierarchy and

the economic structure in the two spaces the way they are today.

Detroit is one of the most racially and economically segregated cities in

the United States (Massey and Denton 1993), a quintessential representation of

what has been termed the "urban cr isis.":" Throughout the twentieth century,

Detroit's history has been one of institutionalized forms of racial segregation

,1I1d racial conflict. The city's population in the year 2000 was 81.6 percent Af­

rican American and 12.3 percent white. In contrast, Dearborn-which borders

Detroit's west side--was 86.9 percent wh ite and less tha 11 1.3 percent African

American in the year 2000.'(

Although employment with the automobile industry was one of the main

pull factors originally, a large number of immigrants from Arab countries ar­

rived in the Detroit metropolitan area following the Immigration and Natu­

ralization Act of 1965 and after the forces of deindustr ialization and economic

restructuring had been set in motion." A convergence of factors opened the

20. Ou the raci,li his!ory of Dct roil, sec Sugrue' ( 19% I.

21. Thcs« d.u.i .i rc obt a i ned from the l·.S. C,'IlSl" Burcdu \\'cb xitc: http://W\V\\·.lCllsus.go\..

22. See Shryock and Abraham (2000 I.

"Whiteness" and the j138 Sawsan Abdulrahim

door for Arab immigrants to buy businesses in Detroit that had been previously

owned by members of European immigrant groups." Currently, Arab Ameri­

cans in the metropolitan area engage in a multitude of economic spheres, one

of which is small business enterprise. As entrepreneurs, they are represented as

a "middleman minority" in the predominantly African American city of De­

t rojt.:" and as business owners in a thriving ethnic enclave in Dearborn, where a

large number of Arab immigrants live and work."

Based on the 2000 census, almost 30 percent of Dearborn's residents claim

an Arab ancestry, while less than 1 percent of Det roit's do so." These estimates

are obtained from the census ancestry question, which is included only on the

long census form. Because the census defines people who trace their origins to

the Middle East and North Africa as white, information on how persons of Arab

ancestry respond to the race question are nonexistent. Persons who check the

"some other race" category and write Arab are autornaticallv entered as white;

their agency to identify as nonwhite is undermined by the census. Moreover,

though the census flags certain situations that involve reassignment during

the data-entry phase, this situation-reassigning an "other race-Arab" to

"whire't-s-does not receive an allocation tlag." Consequently, data on the per­

centages of Arab Americans who identifv. as "white" and those who identifv,

as "ot her race-Arab" a rc lost. More important, differences between the two

groups-on socioeconomic and a host of other variables available through the

census-remain masked.

The census race categories are highly problematic, as they reflect the his­

tory of how race was manufactured in the United States to justify colonialism

and slavery (Shohut 1998; Wright 1994). Nonetheless, race continues to playa

fundamental role in structuring social relations, and data obtained from the

census race question, albeit imperfect, provides a means of exploring the ra­

cial structure. How Arab immigranrs interact with the census race question and

':U. On the 1%7 Detroit r.ui.il upri,ing .md whit« tligh]. >c'e Sugrue II '!'!6).

24. On the "m iddlcm.m m inor itv" t hcor v, sec Bonacich (1'!7J, 19~()I.

25. On the ethnic enclave ccouornv, sec Por tcs (!'!x71.

26. Sec de IaCruz and Hrit t ing h.un (2()OJ).

27. Th is infor mutiou i, b.rscd on ,I phone conversation with Angel.] Hrit t inp h.un of the L'.S.

Censu- Bureau ,1I1d count hur of rlll'.~ r.il. 1'''1'111<11 ion HCI'MI: .cOOO, ,I' well as on tcedb.u.k provided

by staffat thl' Govcr nmcnt l'ubiic.u ion-, l )(ti,e at t hc L'nivcrsitv of ,\lichigan\ (,radu,lte l.ibr.i rv.

choose to locate thernselve-, I,:: "

light on how racial ideolouic- ..

new agents. The question ,1' :'

question and, more import.i 11: : - .

answer it the way they do, f'll ':: '

the burgeoning field of '\1'11 it.:.: C ..

There is a range of reSp'll) 'c·

tion." Naturally, some Ar.ib

thei r race on official forms I' r. .'

someone asks about their r.u.

them. Others say that t hcv Ii:,:

response categories do not III ,1 ~ •

tion by projecting what '\\'\11 ..

they don't know what thcv .u,

black, nor American Indian.

The two Arab immigr,111:.

der of this section did pnl\ Il'c

pant checked the "other r.uc ,

participants were selected Illl:"

their divergent views of their

for examining how "wh itcn.«.

racial subjects. The comp.ui-v­

participants share many halke:'

immigrated to the United "t,lec'

age and have been living in 1ll'.':'

arrived with less than a high ',:

social networks that provided:".

tered the secondary labor 1ll.1:<,·

arrival." With support frnm ,\','

move out of the secondary 1,1'" :

currently own.

28. The information prcsenic.:

with Arab immigrant busincs 0\\ n. :

2'!. For a discussion on rhe !'Cl::'

• "Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 139

choose to locate themselves within historically constructed categories can shed

light on how racial ideologies become embodied and given meaning through

new agents. The question as to how Arab immigrants answer the census race

question and, more important from a "critical whiteness" perspective, why they

answer it the way they do, promises to contribute to critical race theory and to

the burgeoning field of "whiteness studies."

There is a range of responses Arab immigrants offer to the census race ques­

tion." Naturally, some Arab immigrants indicate that they avoid identifying

their race on official forms whenever possible. Thev express concern that when

someone asks about their race, it is with the intention to discriminate against

them. Others say that they find it difficult to answer the question because the

response categories do not make sense to them. They avoid answering the ques­

tion by projecting what Mary Waters terms a "ruceless persona" (1999); while

they don't know what t hey are, they at least k now that they are neither white, nor

black, nor American Indian.

The two Arab immigrants whose narratives are analyzed 111 the remain­

dcr of this section did provide answers to the race question. The first part ici­

pant checked the "ot her race" category; the second checked "wh ite." These two

p.irticipants were selected from a larger qualitative sample 5pccifiClllly because

t heir divergent views of their own racial identities offer a unique opportunity

lor examining how "whiteness" can be constructed, or undermined, through

:,iLi,l1 subjects. The comparison is made more relevant by the fact that the two

;',lrticipants share many background characteristics. They are both males who

.mmigrated to the United States from the same Arab country at about the same

J~e and have been living in Dearborn for almost the same number of years. Both

.urived with less than a high school education but quickly became embedded in

'\ icia l nctworks that provided them with referrals to job opport unities. They en­

.crcd the secondary labor market in unskilled low-wage jobs shortly after their

urival." With support from extended familv members, they were both able to

nove out of the secondary labor market and to purchase the businesses they

.u rrently own.

2H. The intor mat ion presented in t h i-, seer ion is ha,'ed on an analysis of torr v-six interviews

',:Ih Ar.ib immigrant business owners in Detroit .i nd Dc.irborn.

2'1, for a discussion on the pr ima rv and ,c(ond<lr\' l.ibor m.rrket-, sec l'or tcs (1'1H.»).

140 Sawsan Abdulrahim

The first participant owns a business in Detroit whose customer base is

80-90 percent African American. He indicated that he always checks the "other

race" category on the census and other official forms and writes in "Arab."

While he knows that some Arab Americans check "white," he himself insists

on writing in the word "Arab." For this participant, September 11 was by no

means a wake-up call. When asked about whether and how his life was af­

fected by the event, he replied that it just proved what he has alwavs thought:

"I always thought that we are not liked here. I alwavs thought we are hated. I

always thought that we arc looked down on, because of the movies mainly. And

it ISeptember 11 \ just proved it." But September II is not the only factor affect­

ing how this immigrant views his position in the United States. He was asked

about what he likes and dislikes about the neighborhood where his business is

located in Detroit:

I'lIrticipl1lll 1: Thing> l likc ... wev« hccn here tor a while, the ncighhor.,

know us, t hev like LIS. And rhing-, I don't li kc . .. when sorncbodv (unll'S from

outside t hc neighborhood, .uid t hcv don't know us , thcv han' pre-set notions

about Arabs.

IIlIC1TiCl\'cr: \\'h,lt pre-set notions cio thc\ h.ivc about Ar,\bs?

Pnrticuian; 1: like we ,HC t rving to .,!l';11 from them, trving to cheat them

of their muncy, tn'ing to think t h.it t hcv are thicvc-, this kind otmcnt.rl irv.

This participant's rac inl identity forms not only in relation to the rhetoric ot

Arabs and Muslims as terrorists, but also in relation to a localized image of the

AL1b ,1S an "outsider" in Detroit-a merchant making money in a disenfran­

chised, predominantly African American neighborhood. He, however, subverts

this image by identifying himself as an "insider" and those who level criticism

against his existence in Detroit as "from outside the neighborhood." In iden­

tifying as an "other race," he is asserting ,1 nonwhite raciul identity and disas­

sociating himself from "whiteness." He further expresses ambivalence about ,1

hyphenated Arab American identity, which he believes assumes a relationship

between "becoming American" and "becoming white";

Interviewer: Whut dot's the term Arab American mean to )'OU i

PartiCll'llnt I: Arab Amcric.m!

lntcrvicwcr; ... tor example, who do vou think i., an Arab American'

"Whiteness" and the

Purticipant I: I d(ln'I .,

[IItC/TicII'cr: Y(lU d, \I~' ,

Purticipnn; 1:The Il'!'''

it is? [No nne is aI Purl',\!".'

natclv, normally .. , t h« t..:

l nt crvicwcr: \\'hill':

Participans I: \\'hl,i,

This immigrant's in-i-u :

,lgrees with his arnhiv.ucn;

United States. "Arucric.i" j,:,

,1S white, it follows t hut he c .':

his inability to ideutifv .r- .r.:

rejecting "whiteness" ill ,l -.'. "

term American is used ttll' .:

The second part icip.m:

and expresses pride in hi' I'

fies as an Arab Arncric.ui. :~.

be Arab J\mcrica n.... I ,I I,~ " [always say that 1 (/1/1 :\"tI' '"

affections for the United ":,

love this country" or "1 \,,,,

business in the heart o! th. "

on providing excellent "'1""

tion. In the aftermath ot -. :",

his business were protccic.:

about other Arabs who 0\\ .: •. :

harassed after the event.

Unlike the first ['Mticl:',:

census race question, till' v , c

checks "white." He wa" ,lo,k,,:

l'articipant ]: Sel', IiI "

it doc" not belung to. ,,I v. :­

lntcrvicwcr: You t hn..

Participant 2: \Vhitl"

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 141

Participont 1: I don't believe in the phrase itself, Arab American ...

Interviewer: You don't think that the term Cilptures ...

Participnnt l : The term' No. Is it like I am not pure American! Is that what

it is? [No one is a] pure American except the American Indians. And, unfortu­

nately, norrnallv ... the term American is used tor the \\'hite race.

lntcrvicwet: \\'hite!

Participant 1:Which is not fair either,

This immigrant's insistence on representing himself racially as "nonwhite"

agrees with his ambivalence about idcut ifvi ng ,IS an ethnic American in the

United States. "America" is for the "white race," and because he does not identify

as white, it follows that he cannot identifv as an American. On the other hand,

his inability to identify as an ethnic American mav he the price he has to pay for

rejecting "whiteness" in a system that is structured around white privilege, "the

term American is used for the \\'hite race."

The second partic ipant, on the other hand, identifies as an Arab American

and expresses prid« in his hyphenated identity. When asked whether he identi­

fies as an Arab American, he replied: "I am Arab American, I am ... I want to

be Arab American .... I am not saying I am Arabic and I want to be American.

I always say that I ant Arab American." Throughout the interview, he expressed

affections for the United States, his "second home," in statements such as "I

love this country" or "I [would] die for this country." This participant owns a

business in the heart of the ethnic enclave in Dearborn and his success depends

on providing excellent service to Arab customers in the face of still competi­

tion. In the aftermath of September 11, he expressed appreciation that he and

his business were protected in the ethnic enclave, as he heard numerous stories

.ibout other Arabs who owned businesses "among American people" who were

harassed utter the event.

Unlike the first participant, who insisted on answering "other race" to the

,ensus race question, the second participant quickly answered that he always

.hccks "white." He was asked why:

Pnrt icuurn: J: See, tirst ofall, this couut rvbclongs to \\'hite Americans ...

it dLle's not belong to, s.iv, Black Africans, or Indians, or let's sa)' ...

IIZ/CITicII'a: You think the l·.S. belongs to \\'hites'

Pi/rti(iptlllt J: White's, \·es.

142 Sawsan Abdulrahim

interviewer: Not to African Americans?

Participant 2: No.

Interviewer: Yes, so \'OU think [America] belongs to \\'hite~?

Participant 2: Ye~.

On the surface, this participant's identification with the white racial category

may seem counterintuitive, given his statements about feeling protected in the

ethnic enclave at a time when Arabs living and working outside the enclave were

being harassed. Placing his statements in historical perspective, however, it may

seem "logical" for him to want to "be white" given his belief that "whiteness" in

the United States is a prerequisite for "becoming American." He is subjectively

identifyi ng wi th "whiteness" for "rationa I" reasons: A merica belongs to whites

and aile has to become white in order to become American. Eager to become

American and have access to all the opportunities America offers, this immi­

grant is required to interact with a structure that rewards "whiteness." And he

does. He internalizes "whiteness" in his quest for being accepted as an Ameri­

can. This pnr ticipant's narrative recalls Roediger's view that the United States

continues to be a place where new immigrants arc attracted to "whiteness" and

to all its material and psychological benefits (2002). Arab immigrants arc not

immune to this attraction.

Although the two immigrunts provide ostensibly divergent answers to the

census race question-one embraces the white category and one rejects it-both

expose the "hidden" racial character of the assimilation discourse. That is to say,

they challenge the notion that Arab imrnigruuts" interactions with "America"

take place along a line between "Americanization" and "resistance to American­

ization" (Shryock and Abraham 2000). Issues of race and "whiteness" permeate

the American immigrant experience, and the Arab immigrant case should not be

seen as an exception. While some may engage in nonwhite rucial formation, others

may seek to rectify their precarious sense of he longing in America by embracing

"whiteness." Historical evidence suggests that exclusion from "whiteness" may at

times lead to stronger attachment to it (Roediger 2002; Ha ney-Lopez 1996).

Even though the question of how Arab Americans identify on the census in

relation to the white category is particularly salient, "whiteness" is not the onlv,

and may not be the most important, frame of reference for immigrants' racial

formation. In the United States, new immigrants develop racializcd identities in

"Whiteness" and the

a context shaped by what h.i• l-. , .

relation of domination and llf't V , .

are formed not only through i ::',

bel's ofa group, but also th rou , :'

nent to explore how Arab iml11:::~,

its object others, but as its suhi, "

ized context of Detroit and 1I,.:~·

the "blackness" of Detroit.

Therefore, in addition II'

interact with the census LIL" .:

to both "whiteness" and "hIJ,' ..

presented with a series oflin. .

on opposite ends of a line: \ r..:

They were asked to mark (w

themselves in relation to t he' : ­

chose to position thcrusclv., "

focuses on how the two :\Lli,','"

tion, but in the presence 0\;'"

Not surprisinglv, when t :.

one ofthe two other con xtrtt.:;

selves as close ,IS possible 11\ -.:

a nd black. However, when th, "

on one end of the line and\\:'

themselves differently. Th.: :. "

the census race question, [,,,,',

"black." Conversely, the "'L' '::

census race question, posit i, '::, .

and as close as possible to '\\;:',

The first immigrant, 1\ I:,,:,

and "black," explained \\'11\

Participunt J: Bcc.iu- :

is no difference' betwccu I:', '

30, See Solid (197RI, '\l"rll"':'

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 143

a context shaped by what has been termed the historical burden of a white-black

relation of domination and oppression (Alba and Nee 2003). Moreover, identities

are formed not only through imagining shared characteristics with other mem­

bers of a group, but also through the fabrication of an "Other.";" Thus, it is perti ­

nent to explore how Arab immigrants themselves relate to "whiteness" not only as

its object others, but as its subjects. This is particularly salient in the highly racial­

izcd context of Detroit and Dearborn-namely, the "whiteness" of Dearborn and

the "blackness" of Detroit.

Therefore, in addition to how the two aforementioned Arab immigrants

interact with the census race question, how they position themselves in relation

to both "whiteness" and "blackness" was examined. The two participants were

presented with a series of linear diagrams, each with two constituted categories

on opposite ends of a line: Arab and white, Arab and black, and white and black.

They were asked to mark on each linear diagram where t hev would position

themselves in relation to the two categories and then asked to explain why they

chose to position themselves the way they did. The remainder of this section

focuses on how the two Arab immigrants interact with "whiteness," not in isola­

tion, but in the presence of "blackness."

Not surpr isi ugly, when the diagra m included a category for Arab opposite

one of the two other constituted categories, both participants positioned them­

selves as close as possible to Arab and as far away as possible from both white

.md black. However, when the diagram showed the constituted category "black"

on one end of the line and "white" on the other, the two immigrants positioned

themselves differently. The first participant, who identified as "other race" on

the census race question, positioned himselfin the middle between "white" and

'black." Conversely, the second participant, who identified as "white" on the

cc'nsus race question, positioned himself as far away as possible from "black"

.ind as close as possible to "white" on the line.

The first immigrant, who positioned himselfin the middle between "white"

.md "black," explained why:

Participtllll 1: Because I sec no difference between Black and White. There

is no difference between the two.

31l. Set' S,lid (197K I, Mor risori (19931, and fl,,11 (1990 I.

-"

144 Sawsan Abdnlrahim "Whiteness" and the

Interviewer: There is no difference'

Participant I: In my evaluation.

The participant is well aware that, in Detroit, there isa difference between black

and white. In fact, the structural position he occupies-an Arab business owner

in a segregated African American neighborhood-is a constant reminder of this

reality. In spite of this contradiction, he distances himselffrom "whiteness" and

disturbs the process through which it comes to be embodied by immigrants as

an u ncxa mined center of America n Iife. His unwill ingness to adopt whi te iden­

tity de-centers "whiteness" and allows him to articulate a position that is not

necessarily constituted through a distancing from "blackness." He carves out

a new location that renounces "whiteness," not only on the census form, but,

more important, as an ideology created and given life through a fabricated and

distant "black Other." While this participant may continue to be "invisible," as

far as not being counted in the census is concerned, his invisibility has the po­

tential of disrupting the process through which "whiteness" is made.

The second immigrant, who positions himself as "white" and .IS far away

as possible from "blackness," argucs for a different location, Rarely interacting

with blacks given the location of his business, an ethnic enclave surrounded by

a white space, he makes the following statement about blacks:

Pavticipant 2: ". a lot lll" times, thcv rob a gas xtat ion, thev kill the guy,

they take thL' money, they rob the liquor store. You hear and see what is going

on, people get killed lor the moncv, And, then, 11lL':' lind out, they get the gU\',

they catch him, and he is Black.

Clearly, the notion that "whiteness" in the United States is constructed through

distancing from "blackness" is neither a historical phenomenon nor one that

members of a racialized and beleaguered group shy away from. While racism is

by no means an American invention, the negative srcreotvpcs voiced by this im­

migrant resonate with racial ideologies that arc pervasive in American culture,

those of "blacks as criminal." This process of articulating one's "whiteness"

through the fabrication ofa racializcd, distant "black presence" is intriguing for

its reflexive character. 'I The black in the eyes of the "white" Arab is the Arab ill

the eyes of "white" Arncr ic.i. .:

a white racial space-i-Dc.irbo:

to a secondary "Other."

The old models of assim i 1.11

grant identity to an Amcric..'

scrutiny. Even the most ca~l'

that the process has been ,,:

to Afr ican America l1.S anLl \,' ,

Thus, the assimilation 11,1!'!

gration history that take \'"

ization in the United St.rtc- :

was constructed and sh.u-, .:

Arab American expcricu.«

writings have contcx t u.ih zc.:

"whiteness" in the L'nikcl ,,'

In this chapter, I ,1I'~u,,: '

form racial identities is hi~;:

ahs and Muslims in ,I ['\h(-"l ,

and complete d isiltusionm..

continues to be molded ,l~,':'

hold a precarious posit ion.

Arab Americans rnuv IWI I"

even in the current politic.

The objective oft hi- l\

where Arab Americans IiI,

standpoint that they a r,: 11, "

cnce is naturally that 01 r..;

such. Thus, it is neither IC,'

tracting Arabs from t hc ,,\\:.

the: precarious location .vr..

32. This is in rcfcrel1c" t""

to the cscalating dcmoniv.u ior

"Whiteness" and the Arab Immigrant Experience 145

:i1C eves of "white" America. In order for ,1 racialized Arab to become "white" in

,1 white racial space-Dearborn-he would need to project his "Otherness" on

to a secondary "Other."

C():\CLL'SIO:\

The old models of assimilation-which posit a linear evolution from an immi­

grant identity to an American ethnic identity-have increasingly come under

scrutiny. Even the most eager supporters of the assimilation mode! acknowledge

that the process has been made possible to European immigrants and denied

to African Americans and other immigrant groups (Alba and Nee 1997,2(03).

Thus, the assimilation narrative has contributed to producing a biased immi­

gration history that takes into account neither the effects of racism and racial­

ization in the United States nor the dynarnic process through which "whiteness"

WdS constructed and shaped (Roediger 20(2). Although some writings on the

Arab American experience adopt a race-neutral assimilation paradigm, other

writings have contextualized that experience within the historv of race and

"whiteness" in the United States.

In this chapter, I argued that the process through which Arab imrnigra nts

form racial identities is highl}' subjective and that even the racial marking ofAr­

abs and Muslims ina post-September 11 cnvi ronrncnt may not lead to a un iforrn

and complete disillusionment with "whiteness." "Whiteness" is an ideology that

continues to be molded against a black "other," often by members of groups who

hold a precarious position on the racial hierarchy. Therefore, the possibility that

Arab Americans mav not be naturally transforming to nonwhite racial subjects,

even in the current political climate, should be left open for exploration.

The objective of this exploration was not to argue for a position in terms of

where Arab Americans fit on the racial hierarchy, suppor ting or opposing the

standpoint that they arc not treated the wav whites arc treated so their experi­

ence is naturally that of racial minorities and thcv need to he categorized as

such. Thus, it is neither intended to back nor counter lobbying efforts for ex­

tracting Arabs from the "white" race category." I propose that any resolution to

the precarious location Arah Americans occupy in the racial hierarchy ought to

_12. This is in reference to Sl1111l' ('fI~lI"h h~' :\r.11) ,\I11tTiL,lJ1 n.it ion.i l org,lnization..; 111 rt'Spu!1SC

to the l'S(,llatin~ dcmoniz.ition "r.\r,lb.' clnd \Iu,lilll' in the L'nited St.rt cs ; ,ec' Sa mha n (1999i,

146 Sawsan Abdulrahim

be engaged through a framework that is intended to challenge racial hierarchies,

not reinforce them. Nonetheless, the demonizing of Arabs and Muslims, which

began well before September II, 2001, is part of a dynamic process of racializa­

tion that ought to be understood in the context of the race history of the United

States and, what is more important, challenged,

8tr, Syrian /1':",

and Rl1o,," ,:

\IO!l I:" ILORI Il,\ 1\'-,

bold-type headline of t h,' \,

The accompanying art iL!, ,:. '. ­

killing of"N. C. ROmL'\, \\: -.

chief of police. Other 1"'1" ,:'.

United States revealed t h.u

Fannie, and their children

Lake City, Florida.' Lull!" '

An carl icr vc rs io n 0 f t hi, ,I r II, ;c

HCi, It was first presented .u t h. '

organizcd b~' I'uul T,lb,lr.l Ill' :.'

!'daria Elcna Mar t incz , lhcrc-..

on how to improve the <lrgllIl1l"

I. Thc art ir lr aPr,,",lr, II' ­

ILjI~-I<)Ci5, scrics A, "Ant i! \ I:,'

t ions of Arucr iru, 19R7. SCC <II "I I

~Ci, ILj~<), I.

~_ Althollgh the l.al:« ( ,:

[\1;1\ ~4, 1Lj~<), I; Mi'l/Ili Hail!,i,

Times, Ma~' IH, ILj~<), IH: ,\/t'I,;",

persons originating from th.: L,.

This urea included th« prcsenl ,', '