In the realm of contemporary American society, the marginalization of Asians has permeated various aspects of life, revealing an underlying current of hegemonic maintenance that echoes throughout history. This phenomenon is not merely a remnant of past prejudices but a living, breathing reality that continues to shape the dynamics of race, identity, and power within the United States.
Reflecting on my personal experiences in the dating landscape in my early youth, a recurring theme emerges: American women often inquire whether they are the first “white girl” I have dated. This question, laden with implications, contrasts starkly with my interactions with European counterparts, such as Germans or Swedes, who do not exhibit the same preoccupation with racial identity. This fixation on “sacred whiteness” underscores a broader cultural narrative that positions whiteness as a unique and desirable identity, one that is often validated through its juxtaposition against non-white populations.
Historically, this quest for a distinct white identity has been fueled by pseudo-scientific racism, perpetuating the belief that American whiteness stands apart from its European counterparts. As the former Director of Policy Planning at the United States Department Kron Skinner noted, the U.S. must look at China as a “great non-Caucasian power competitor” that threatens the American constructed global identity. The aversion towards Asian populations has deep roots, illustrated by legislative actions such as the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which barred Chinese immigrants from citizenship and effectively ostracized them from the American narrative. It was not until 1943, when geopolitical alliances shifted during World War II, that this exclusion began to wane. The historical trauma of Japanese American internment during the same war highlights the lengths to which the U.S. government has gone to contain perceived threats from Asian populations. The forced relocation of approximately 120,000 Japanese Americans, driven by fear and racial prejudice, stands as a stark reminder of the fragility of civil rights in the face of national security concerns. Even today, we witness a resurgence of discriminatory policies, such as the recent bans on Chinese nationals purchasing real estate and gaining admissions to state universities, revealing a troubling continuity of exclusion.
This ongoing marginalization of Asians serves as a reflection of American self-identity, with whiteness at its core. The racial hierarchies established in the early 20th century, which categorized Anglo Americans as the “Nordic Stock,” reveal an insatiable craving for purity that permeates U.S. foreign and domestic policies. In the 1930s, some American intellectuals sought to rewrite history, claiming that the Viking Leif Ericsson, rather than Columbus, was the true discoverer of America—an overt attempt to reinforce a narrative of white superiority. As the U.S. positions itself as the guardian of Western civilization, it casts Asians as racial others, perpetuating the notion that they threaten the very foundation of that civilization. This perception is compounded by a lack of historical context; the U.S. has little embedded history within the Eurasian plain, leading to a dismissal of Asian cultures as “foreign” and “alien.” This cultural ignorance was underscored during Trump’s 2017 state visit to China when he mistakenly remarked that Egypt’s civilization, at 7,000 years, was longer than China’s 5,000 years—revealing a stark disconnect between American cultural relevance and historical reality.
Ultimately, the marginalization of Asians—both within the U.S. and on the global stage—serves to reinforce a fragile American hegemony. However, this strong racial consciousness is also a double-edged sword, representing a profound challenge for Americans themselves. As the nation grapples with its identity in an increasingly globalized world, the need for introspection and a reevaluation of its racial narratives has never been more pressing. The journey toward a more inclusive society necessitates confronting these historical injustices and dismantling the structures of marginalization that continue to persist. Only through such reflection can the U.S. hope to overcome its own self-imposed limitations and forge a path toward a more equitable future.