It’s once again time for one of my elaborate explorations into a book that has caught my interest. The focus this time is on We Have Never Been Woke: The Cultural Contradictions of a New Elite by Musa al-Gharbi. In the forthcoming posts, I aim to synthesize al-Gharbi’s insights rather than inject my personal views; any questions raised in the comments will be addressed through the lens of his arguments. My individual stance will be reserved for the series’ conclusion.
In recent years, numerous works have emerged that critically scrutinize the concept of “wokeness,” often with a confrontational tone. Among the notable titles are Chris Rufo’s America’s Cultural Revolution: How the Radical Left Conquered Everything, Richard Hanania’s The Origins of Woke: Civil Rights Law, Corporate America, and the Triumph of Identity Politics, and Eric Kauffmann’s The Third Awokening: A 12 Point Plan for Rolling Back Progressive Extremism. My interest in al-Gharbi’s book stems from his approach, which critiques wokeness with a nuanced perspective rather than outright hostility. A sympathetic critique often illuminates complexities that a polarizing stance may obscure—think of Ezra Klein’s reflections on “everything-bagel liberalism” as a prime example.
Al-Gharbi’s exploration of “wokeness” posits it not as a novel phenomenon but rather as a recurring response to distinct social contexts throughout history. He argues that “wokeness” is merely the current iteration of a broader social movement. Furthermore, he delves into the inherent contradictions within wokeness, both today and in its historical precursors. He recounts his perplexing experiences at Columbia University following the 2016 election of Donald Trump:
In the aftermath, many Columbia students claimed to be so traumatized by the electoral outcome that they were unable to focus on tests or homework. They demanded time off, and several aspects of these demands struck me as noteworthy.
First, these were students at an Ivy League university—mostly from affluent backgrounds. Even those not born into wealth were likely to emerge from Columbia with advantageous prospects. After all, the prestige of an Ivy League institution is no secret; students consciously choose Columbia over lesser universities with the aspiration to ascend the social ladder. Those from less privileged backgrounds often express immense joy upon their acceptance, viewing it as a ticket to a brighter future.
Despite their privileged status, these students appeared to believe they were uniquely vulnerable to the implications of Trump’s presidency:
Many students seemed to perceive themselves as particularly at risk from Trump and his administration, feeling especially threatened. They sought various accommodations to cope with his victory, and the university readily complied.
One might assume that such distress stemmed from deep concern for the disadvantaged, yet al-Gharbi observed a lack of tangible advocacy for those truly at risk:
Meanwhile, a whole segment of people—the landscapers, maintenance workers, food service teams, and security personnel—remained invisible to these students. There was no major movement advocating for their needs. Ironically, these workers, who according to the prevailing narrative stood to lose the most from Trump’s presidency, were overlooked. The students, who were predominantly from affluent backgrounds, did not begin their demands by seeking a day off for these laborers or advocating for their rights.
In contrast, those who were supposedly most affected by the election did not exhibit such self-centered behavior:
Nor did these overlooked workers, the ones with the most at stake, claim they were too traumatized to work. They weren’t casting themselves as victims. While classrooms teemed with tears, janitors didn’t stage dramatic protests while cleaning up after the affluent; they simply returned to their duties the following day.
These observations extend beyond university campuses into the world of affluent professionals:
Upon leaving campus, I noticed similar scenes on the Upper West Side and other wealthy areas of Manhattan. The beneficiaries of the current socio-economic order wandered about in shock, comforting one another while weeping for the distressed, even as they received heightened services from their attendants due to their emotional turmoil. Their ability to indulge in such behavior was, of course, made possible by the very workers who continued to show up for work without fail.
This episode highlights a significant phenomenon: how progressive elites often profess concern for the marginalized while simultaneously reaping benefits from the very systems that exacerbate their struggles. Moreover, these elites don’t merely passively benefit; they actively participate in structuring the systems they decry as exploitative. This is evident in their everyday economic interactions:
Even the most prejudiced and privileged individuals in other contexts cannot exploit women and minorities to the extent that liberal professionals in cities like Seattle, San Francisco, or Chicago do in their daily lives. These progressive strongholds are often home to systems that facilitate the casual exploitation and marginalization of the vulnerable, with Democrat-voting professionals as the primary beneficiaries—even as they vocally lament inequality.
Al-Gharbi also notices this contradiction in the actions of activists. He describes how those protesting for the Black Lives Matter movement, mostly affluent and white, would rally in front of homeless Black men:
On several occasions, I observed demonstrators engaging in their rituals right before the very homeless Black men who lacked even basic necessities. The protesters would occupy the space around them, enthusiastically waving BLM signs while the men seemed to exist merely as background props—obstructions they had to navigate around while chanting slogans.
However, it wasn’t long before the community from which these protesters hailed took action to ensure those “obstructions” were removed:
In a neighborhood that overwhelmingly supported Hillary Clinton in the 2016 election and would do the same for Joe Biden, residents rallied together to declare “Not in my backyard” to the homeless, successfully pushing the city to relocate them elsewhere.
These experiences prompted al-Gharbi to ponder the dissonance between the actions of the “woke” and the values they espouse. Why do social justice activists often engage in actions that seem misaligned with the interests of those they claim to support? If social justice discourse is indeed manipulated by elites to serve their purposes, what aspects of social justice ideology make it appealing to the powerful? If membership in a marginalized group is a significant disadvantage, why are elites so eager to identify with these groups or align themselves with such individuals, sometimes even distorting the truth to do so? Ultimately, have the so-called woke ever genuinely sought to create a more just society, or is wokeness merely a framework that allows elites to rationalize their privilege at the expense of those they profess to help?
Musa al-Gharbi presents a wealth of intriguing insights on these issues and more. However, before diving deeper, it is crucial to clarify some foundational ideas within his analysis. In my next post, I will outline the fundamental assumptions and concepts underpinning al-Gharbi’s work, alongside his answers to two pivotal questions: who exactly is “we,” and what does it mean to be “woke?”
