They say things move fast in the world of politics, but 2022 has taken speed to a whole new level. The UK now has its third (yes, third) prime minister this year in former chancellor Rishi Sunak.
His appointment to high office has been heralded by many as a sign of progressiveness. At 42, Sunak is the youngest modern Prime Minister and the first person of colour (of South Asian heritage) to take office. He is also the first Hindu to be hold the role, celebrating Diwali on the day his premiership was announced and posting on social media: ‘I will do everything I can in this job to build a Britain where our children and our grandchildren can light their Diyas and look to the future with hope.’
But as some celebrate this diversity in office, others are asking: is it really enough to celebrate? Much of the conversation happening around Sunak’s premiership focuses on his race, religion, and identity, rather than his policies and previous stint in Boris Johnson’s cabinet. And so, it seems to me we’ve found ourselves in yet another cycle of representation politics: where diverse representation is celebrated at the surface level whilst political concerns are suspended.
Rishi Sunak has spoken often about being the child of Indian migrants. He was born in Southampton to parents of Indian origin who emigrated to the UK from east Africa. One of the tenets of his leadership race was a video in which he said his family gave him ‘opportunities they could only dream of.’ These opportunities included attending Winchester College, a private school with fees in the thousands, an education that saw him go on to attend Oxford and Stanford University. He’s married to Akshata Murty, the daughter of Indian billionaire Narayana Murthy, who came under heavy criticism earlier this year for her non-dom tax status. (Following the revelations she gave up her non-dom status and promised to pay UK tax on worldwide income). Nontheless, their wealth – an estimated £730 million, making the couple richer than the monarch, King Charles III – has seen some questioning whether he can understand the struggles of ordinary British citizens.
Who is Rishi Sunak really representing?
Of course, having a non-white PM in a position of power can be a positive form of representation, with many celebrating the fact this is the first time they’ve seen a British PM who looks like them or is openly the same religion. But can we really ignore the role of his wealth and class in this? It’s hard to see how Sunak becoming PM is truly representative of people of colour in this country when Black and brown communities are more likely to be living in poverty. And this before the new wave of spending cuts Sunak’s government is expected to introduce, which have always disproportionately impacted people of colour, fuelling further inequality.
Representation can, of course, be a reason to celebrate– but surely the question to ask is: who is Rishi Sunak really representing?