In her wide-ranging article, “An Imperial History of Race-Religion in International Law,” Rabiat Akande delves into the realms of history illustrating how the “race-religion” constellation became formative in current international law, specifically in Western discrimination toward minorities. As Akande writes, “the legacy of that past survives in the continuing interplay of the racial and religious othering of the non-Euro-Christian other.”1 This racialized-religious heritage, for instance, is evident in Western debates on the Hijab, Jewish circumcision (Brit Milah), and various other rituals practiced by religious minorities in the West. As a historian of the nineteenth century, in this essay I mainly focus on Akande's reconstruction of the historical aspect of the “race-religion” nexus. I begin by partially validating Akande's argument concerning the emergence of race-religion during the end of the nineteenth century, and by emphasizing Western racial discrimination against Islam and Judaism—the two “sister Semitic” religions. I then add what I see as important nuances that must be considered in the historical analysis of race-religion. Primarily, I illustrate how race-religion was “fluid” at times, allowing specific groups to “enter” Western civilization, while in other cases, race-religion was rigid, barring the inclusion of groups. Akande argues that the nineteenth century colonial expansion (in Africa, the Middle East, and India) dramatically contributed to the rise of the shared European categories of whiteness and Christianity. This emerging Western identity was antagonistic to the alleged “barbarism” of the non-whites and non-Christians. Nevertheless, further nineteenth-century inner-European contextualization is needed since the exclusion through race-religion also targeted, exactly at the time of this European imperial expansion, other “fellow Christian whites,” such as the Catholic Irish and Poles. It is not only “whiteness” per se that became prevalent, but a specific form of “whiteness” (e.g., Anglo-Saxon, Teutonic, Aryan) that was constantly reimagined and redefined.

Rabiat Akande's article, “An Imperial History of Race-Religion in International Law,” draws attention to the gap in frameworks of protection from religious discrimination, on the compelling rationale that much contemporary discrimination continues to work through racialization. And she provides a genealogy to show that this gap is not there by accident—it presupposes a specific set of histories that excluded the racialization of religion from protection, because such protection was devised to respond to some kinds of wrongs (especially those of concern to white Christians) rather than others. In this essay, I would like to draw out much more explicitly than she does Akande's momentous point that Jews—racialized by white Christian Europeans—once experienced and fought this very same protection gap. This story is of great historical interest in its own right, but it also redoubles the familiar lesson that colonialism never just ends. Instead, it endures in complex ways and facilitates ongoing cycles of suffering and unfreedom.

Race is a Western political project. Religious freedom is a Christian political project. The linkages between the two enabled European nations and their settlers across the globe to condemn natives, slaves, and non-European immigrants to inferior status, and in turn legalize control of their lands and bodies.1 The consequent race-religion systems of power and privilege, which inform Rabiat Akande's thesis, offer valuable insights into the racialized boundaries of contemporary Palestine-Israel discourse in the United States.2 Specifically, the racialization of Muslims and Arabs as terrorism supporters and presumptively anti-Semitic subjects them to censorship, harassment, and discrimination when they advocate for the human rights of Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank. This essay argues that infringements on Muslims and Arabs’ dissenting speech and political activism is another way in which the racialization of religion produces a mutually constitutive form of discrimination.

At the heart of Rabiat Akande's inspiring article, “An Imperial History of Race-Religion in International Law,” is the problematization of international law as an enabler of the othering of “non-Euro-Christian” religions.1 Akande employs “the imperial history of international law” to demonstrate that “racial and religious othering were mutually co-constitutive in the colonial encounter.”2 She rightly points out that “the legacy of that past survives in the continuing interplay of the racial and religious of the non-Euro-Christian other.”3 The focus of my essay is the post-colonial/settler colony4 and post-apartheid state that is South Africa. I argue that despite its highly acclaimed Constitution,5 which values international law and human rights, colonial and apartheid legacies still exist in South Africa, and come in the form of subjugating minority religions in favor of Christianity. In particular, I focus on the failure of the South African government in 2024 to pass legislation that would legally recognize Muslim marriages despite a constitutional obligation to do so.6 I argue that the government's non-recognition of Muslim marriages for almost three decades is a result of South Africa's colonial and apartheid legacies. South Africa's international and constitutional obligations law should be at the heart of the South African government's realization of fundamental rights when dealing with matters pertaining to religious freedom, especially as they relate to Muslim marriages.

South Africa is known historically for racial apartheid when people were classified as white, Indian, Colored, or Black/Native.1 Indians, Coloreds, and Blacks were discriminated against and denied rights afforded to whites. One example was the right to vote, which was withheld from anyone not classified as white.2 What is less well known is that other forms of discrimination also existed, including religion, culture, gender, and sexual orientation. These discriminations manifested in religious marriage laws. They also intersected in the domain of marriage through race and religion, resulting in what Rabiat Akande describes as “mutually imbricated religious and racial othering.”3 Akande's observation that “Euro-Christian foundations of the legal regime of religious liberty” excluded minority religions from legal protections in colonial settler situations resonates in South Africa.4 Apartheid South Africa adopted a colonial European Christianized approach to marriage, namely, the voluntary union of one man to one woman for the duration of the marriage.5 This definition of marriage was embedded within South Africa's common law and entrenched values of heteronormativity and monogamy, both of which are inherent in a Christian understanding of marriage. Consequently, same-sex marriages were excluded from legal protection.6 Similarly, customary marriages and Muslim, Hindu, and Jewish marriages were not legally recognized because they were potentially polygynous, which in South Africa was deemed immoral and contrary to the colonial and apartheid era notions of public policy.7 This essay focuses on the legal implications of Hindu marriages not being legally recognized in South Africa, and especially the disparate effect that this has on women. The essay thus adds a gendered dimension to Akande's arguments about religious discrimination.

Rabiat Akande's article, “An Imperial History of Race-Religion in International Law,” persuasively demonstrates the interplay of racial and religious discrimination both historically and today, and argues that this race-religious nexus is not now adequately addressed by international law.1 Featured in the article is a historical account of the early colonial-era practices and patterns of thought that regarded people indigenous to the Americas and Africa as inferior in significant part due to their non-Christian religious practices and identities. The article's assessment of contemporary international law as it relates to the “race-religious othering” provides important insights into the shortcomings of formal international legal sources and their application. That assessment, however, sidelines or even downplays relevant developments that can provide hope for the victims of that othering, developments that include the adoption of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (“the Declaration” or “the UN Indigenous Rights Declaration”).2 Akande's article summarily dismisses the significance of the Declaration with cursory questioning of its impact and legal character. This essay responds to Akande's treatment of the Declaration and overall sidelining of relevant developments internationally concerning Indigenous peoples.