Beyond Race, But Not the Law

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Beyond Race, But Not the Law
by J. Edward Tremlett, Columnist

February 11, 2004

"Down On the rANT Farm"

J. Edward Tremlett While watching the media circus surrounding Michael Jackson's arrest unfold, I figured it was inevitable that at least one of the many members of the Jackson family would rush to his defense. Unfortunately, it was his brother, Jermaine, who spoke the loudest, calling it a "modern-day lynching."

"You got a bunch of racist, I'm sorry, racist rednecks out there who don't care about people," he later expounded, apparently referring to the people investigating the case.

Racist? That's pretty harsh. I can't see into the head or heart of Santa Barbara D.A. Tom Sneddon, but I have a hard time imagining that his pursuit of Michael Jackson was spurred on by racial hatred.

I also have a hard time believing Sneddon isn't the least bit gratified to have another go at Jackson, after having a similar case against him slip away ten years ago. But that's a whole different ballgame than wanting to string the man up for being Black.

Racism? We heard similar statements when O.J. Simpson was brought to trial for the murder of his ex-wife and her friend. And while Simpson's Defense team may have made a lot of headway by questioning the motives of the LAPD - most notably a certain detective assigned to the case - in the end the accusation stands as little more than a straw man.

That's because O.J., much like Michael Jackson, was most likely not the victim of racism. And that's because they are - in the eyes of most Americans - no longer Black.

No, I'm not talking about Michael Jackson's plastic surgery or his skin condition: that's not the "Black" I'm talking about. Even if Michael still looked like a Black man, and not an asexual refugee from Fairyland, he still wouldn't be "Black" to most folks. He'd be Michael Jackson - gifted entertainer, philanthropist and former child star whose race really doesn't matter at all.

Now, there are no doubt some hardcore racists out there who'd still call Michael Jackson rude names if they saw him face to face, no matter how famous he was. They'd probably want to kill him, too, just because.

Thankfully, such people are an extreme rarity, and such racism is sliding into obscurity along with them. But what remains is a little more sinister for its subtlety.

The sort of racism I'm thinking of - the kind that most people tend to experience these days - is low-key: almost subconscious. It's the sort of thing that places invisible barriers between people of different racial and cultural backgrounds. It says that we all have "our place," and you and yours' is over there, away from me and mine.

But Michael Jackson isn't bound by those barriers, anymore. He's a celebrity. He's "made it" through whatever combination of luck, hard work, lineage or media hype has brought him up to where he is now. Whatever "station" his ancestry might have doomed his kin to, he's risen far above it.

Race doesn't matter when photographers want to get a picture of you just because you're you. Race doesn't matter when you can snap your fingers and get a press conference called. Race doesn't matter when everyone wants your autograph, your products or a handful of the dirt you just walked on. And race really doesn't matter when you can dance a jig on the roof of your car after walking out of a pre-trial hearing and get away with it.

As a celebrity, Michael Jackson lives in a strange, in-between state of being. In that place, your race, religion and cultural background is not as important as what you're seen to contribute to society as a whole. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone was judged this way?

But even celebrities have to obey the law, and that's why Michael Jackson is facing legal problems. The true cause behind his arrest has nothing to do with the color of his skin, and everything to do with the color of his alleged conduct.

Hopefully this truth will prevail, whatever the outcome of the trial. ***

J. Edward Tremlett is a published author, political thinker and self-described "mean-spirited crank." He lives with his wife and two cats in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

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Photo of J. Edward Tremlett courtesy of staff files