In Disgraced, Amir Kapoor (who’s South Asian and was raised Muslim but has renounced Islam) and his wife Emily (who’s white) seem to have a progressive interracial marriage and worldly, liberal-minded friends from different backgrounds. Emily celebrates Amir’s Muslim culture much more than Amir himself does, and the couple’s friends Jory (who’s Black) and Isaac (who’s Jewish) see themselves as well-traveled and open-minded. Nonetheless, Emily often says unintentionally offensive things to Amir about his Muslim heritage, which also emboldens Isaac to be overtly racist, creating tension and resentment in both of their relationships with Amir. Emily and Isaac’s behavior shows that even people who think of themselves as well-intentioned and progressive can do and say racist things. Furthermore, the play suggests that unintentional racism is just as damaging as overt racism, because it creates resentment that undermines healthy relationships.
Emily champions herself as a progressive person who celebrates Islam—but in doing so, she minimizes Amir’s lived experiences as a person of Muslim heritage, which makes him feel unseen. Emily knows that talking about Islam triggers Amir, because he felt stifled growing up in a dogmatically religious household—yet she often scolds Amir about his negative view of Islam. She champions her own interpretation of a religion that she’s never lived with, dismissing her husband’s emotional trauma surrounding his Muslim upbringing. By constantly talking about Islam, Emily brings up triggers that remind Amir of a painful time in his life, which makes him feel on-edge and resentful of Emily. One night, at a dinner party, Amir says that he finds airport security “a nightmare” because airport authorities tend to racially profile South Asian people like himself. This embarrasses him, so he usually just volunteers for a search to avoid being singled out in front of everyone in the airport. Rather than empathizing with him, Emily dismisses Amir’s experience of racial profiling and even criticizes his way of avoiding discomfort and humiliation. She suggests that airport authorities try really hard not to be racist, and she scolds Amir for being passive aggressive toward them by volunteering for searches. In depicting Amir as the aggressor rather than the victim, Emily suggests that his feelings and concerns about airport security are unfounded. This makes Amir feel misunderstood and ignored, causing him to resent her even more.
Emily is so concerned about seeming progressive and accepting of Islam that she often pressures Amir into unsafe situations where he’s subject to overt racial discrimination. Amir fears getting entangled with a Muslim cleric, Imam Fareed, who’s been wrongly accused of funding terrorist activity with charity money that he collected for his mosque. But Emily, thinking that she’s being open-minded and progressive, pressures Amir into speaking out in support of Imam Fareed to the press, dismissing Amir’s fear of backlash as exaggerated. When Amir’s bosses see the newspaper article, they question his ties with the Muslim community and end up firing him, destroying his career as a lawyer. In this situation, Emily prioritizes looking progressive over taking the racism that Amir experiences seriously. This not only builds resentment between them as a couple but also puts Amir in a vulnerable position, as it singles him out to be discriminated against.
Emily’s casual, unintentional racism also emboldens overtly racist people (like their friend Isaac) to speak up, causing further harm. When Emily scolds Amir for his attitude at airports, Isaac (who has never been racially profiled himself) suggests that Amir only exacerbates people’s suspicions about Muslim people by volunteering to be searched. At the same time, Isaac admits that he himself is suspicious of Muslim people in airports, as he believes that any one of them could be a terrorist. Isaac embodies the racism that Amir fears, yet he also criticizes Amir for trying to avoid racist confrontations—a hypocritical perspective that creates tension between the two friends. As the dinner conversation continues, Isaac grows more outwardly hostile and pressures Amir into talking about Islam. In a vulnerable moment, Amir admits that he’s so opposed to Islam because he still struggles to rid himself of problematic ideas that he was indoctrinated with as a child (racism against Jewish people, for instance). Then, as soon as Amir leaves the room, Isaac calls Amir a “closet jihadist” (Islamic terrorist) in front of Jory, who’s Amir’s work colleague. Isaac shames Amir for talking about Islam at all, publicly labeling Amir with a dangerous stereotype that could have very real ramifications for his job (or even his personal safety).
Emily and Isaac’s behavior causes Amir to seethe with ongoing resentment. Eventually, Amir cracks under the pressure of tolerating racist conversation, and he has an angry outburst at the end of the dinner party that destroys his marriage with Emily and friendship with Isaac. This implosion of relationships is largely the result of Emily and Isaac continuously indulging their own privilege (in being able to talk about Islam without being traumatized or punished) above Amir’s very real suffering as an ethnic minority. The play thus suggests that subtle, unintentional racism isn’t harmless: it can create resentment, enable more overt racism, and even ruin relationships.
Unintentional Racism and Resentment ThemeTracker
Unintentional Racism and Resentment Quotes in Disgraced
I don’t like what’s happening. Somebody’s gotta do something about it.
I think you’re overthinking this.
Let me get this straight: Some waiter is a dick to me in a restaurant and you want to make a painting. But if it’s something that actually might affect my livelihood, you don’t even want to believe there could be a problem.
The Islamic tiling tradition, Isaac? Is a doorway to the most extraordinary freedom. And which only comes through a kind of profound submission. In my case, of course it’s not submission to Islam but to the formal language. The pattern. The repetition. And the quiet that this work requires of me? It’s extraordinary.
So there you are in your six-hundred-dollar Charvet shirt, like Velázquez’s brilliant apprentice-slave in his lace collar, adorned in the splendors of the world you're now so clearly a part of… And yet... […] The question remains […] Of your Place.
It’s a nightmare at the airports.
Those agents are working hard not to discriminate… Then here’s this guy who comes up to them and calls them out…
I picked up the recipe when I was on a Fulbright in Seville.
Fucking closet jihadist.