The Black Experience Is the Test: Selective Justice Why History Exposes Today’s Double Standards

When the United States talks about freedom, justice, and democracy, it often speaks as if those values apply equally to everyone. But history—and present-day reality—tell a different story. For Black people in America, this contradiction isn’t theoretical. It’s lived. That’s why the Black experience has become the litmus test for whether America’s words about justice mean anything at all.

From the start, the transatlantic slave trade was not just about labor. It was about fear, control, and domination. African people were stripped of their names, culture, language, and spiritual systems. Christianity was forced on them in a European form that taught obedience to enslavers, not liberation.

If Black people resisted—physically, mentally, or spiritually—they were punished or killed. That wasn’t faith. That was terror. Slavery didn’t end the system—it just changed its form. Jim Crow laws, lynchings , and the Ku Klux Klan enforced racial control. Black towns that became too successful were burned to the ground. Black political power was destroyed. This wasn’t democracy—it was racial dictatorship, hidden behind laws and courts.

The world saw this clearly during the civil rights movement. Police dogs attacking women and children. Fire hoses knocking people down. Peaceful protestors beaten, jailed, and killed. If another country had done this, the United States would have called it authoritarian. Instead, it was called “law and order.”

That same pattern continues today.

We see it in ICE raids that overwhelmingly target people of color, as if being Latino, Hispanic, Caribbean, or African defines who is “un-American.” Families are torn apart. Children come home to empty houses. Workers disappear overnight. Meanwhile, entire industries continue to benefit from undocumented labor with little consequence. Enforcement isn’t about fairness—it’s about who is seen as disposable.

This also exposes a deeper problem: the false idea that only white Europeans define what an American looks like. Black Americans, Indigenous people, Caribbean communities, and Latino families have been part of this country for generations. Yet they are treated as guests who can be removed at any moment.

Even more alarming is how openly racist language now goes unchecked. When a president can openly refer to Somali people as “garbage”—despite Somali Americans being citizens, taxpayers, workers, and neighbors—it reveals white supremacy in plain sight. No apology. No accountability. No real consequences. That kind of language is not accidental. It gives permission. It tells the public who is valued and who is not.

This is the same language that justified slavery. The same language that justified Jim Crow. The same language that justified mass incarceration. And it rarely goes unchallenged when it comes from power.

This hypocrisy doesn’t stop at U.S. borders. When the U.S. bombed Nigeria claiming it was protecting Christians from Muslims, the reality was that both Christians and Muslims were being killed. Religion was used as a cover, just as it was used against enslaved Africans.

In Venezuela, the so-called war on drugs was used to justify interference and even the kidnapping of the country’s president—only for U.S. officials to later admit the real interest was oil. In Venezuela, the so-called “war on drugs” was used to justify interference and even the kidnapping of the country’s president. Later, officials openly admitted the real interest was oil.

This mirrors what happened in Black communities in the U.S., where the government claimed it was fighting drugs while allowing crack cocaine to flood neighborhoods—opening the door to mass incarceration and broken families.

Then there is Israel. As thousands of Palestinians were killed—openly and publicly—the United States offered speeches instead of sanctions. Aid efforts were blocked. Accountability was ignored. Meanwhile, other nations are quickly labeled dictators for far less. This leaves the world asking a fair question: Why is violence condemned in some places and excused in others?

Black Americans already know the answer. Justice in America has always depended on power, not principle. Laws bend for some and crush others. Billions in tax dollars are sent overseas, while citizens at home—Black, brown, and poor—struggle for healthcare, decent jobs, and fair housing. We’re told there’s no money for communities, but endless money for war and special interests.

This is also where Africa must be careful. African nations should not beg for justice from Western powers that colonized them, exploited their resources, and destabilized their governments. Africa must study not only its own history, but the history of Black Americans. Every resource-rich country that has been attacked learned the same lesson: when trouble comes, no superpower rushes in to save you.

That forces us to ask real questions: Who truly fights for the poor? Who defends those who can’t defend themselves? Who stands up to bullies—not with speeches, but with action?

Africa has the power to solve its own problems—but only through unity, self-respect, and historical awareness.

This moment demands that we stop falling for divisive religious talk and political distractions. This is not about Christian versus Muslim, immigrant versus citizen,

Democrat versus Republican. It is about right versus wrong. If we don’t learn from history, we will repeat it. If we ignore hypocrisy, it will grow louder. If we stay silent, injustice will keep finding new targets.

The Black experience—here and globally—is not just pain. It is a warning. It is evidence. And it is the clearest test of whether freedom, justice, and equality are real—or just words.