Trump rhetoric fuels anti-Asian harassment and violence

At a Rose Garden press conference in mid-May, a White House correspondent asked President Trump why he asserts that the U.S. is outperforming other countries in testing for COVID-19 when the incidence and deaths of Americans is so high. Trump dismissed her question with the disdain he holds for women and journalists, adding: "... you should ask China. Don’t ask me, ask China that question, OK?”

The CBS News reporter was Chinese American Weijia Jiang, who followed up with, “Sir, why are you saying that to me, specifically?” Trump dismissed her question as “nasty,” cut her off as well shutting down CNN correspondent Kaitlan Collins for allowing Jiang's follow-up question, and abruptly ended the new conference, stomping off.

That exchange reprised a news conference from two months earlier, on March 18, at the start of the national emergency and sheltering orders, when White House correspondents Cecilia Vega of ABC News and Yamiche Alcindor of PBS NewsHour pressed Trump to explain why he continued saying "Chinese virus" when U.S. and global public health officials used the name "COVID-19"— and racist attacks on Asian Americans were spiking. Again, it was women journalists who challenged the president. Trump dismissed any racial connection and continued to insist on blaming China for the pandemic.

In the U.S., there are more than 20 million people whose ancestors hail from throughout Asia and the Pacific; some are immigrants or refugees, while others have roots in America going back five, six, even 10 generations. However, because Asians of all backgrounds are often thought to be all the same by uninformed people, the burgeoning racial tensions are stoking fear and anxiety throughout Asian American communities, beyond those of Chinese descent.

They have good reason to fear: News and social media have been exploding with reports of harassment and bullying, from schoolyard tauntings and beatings before the lockdowns, to a racist stabbing attack of 2- and 6-year-old Southeast Asian children in a store. Videos have been posted of beatings of elderly Asian Americans at bus stops or walking near their homes; acid was thrown in an Asian woman's face as she took her garbage out; taxi drivers have refused to give rides to Asian-looking customers; Asian Americans pushed onto subway tracks, with harassment even directed at essential workers and health care givers in scrubs who have been threatened on their way to work.

When China was first battling the virus, weeks before Trump declared a national emergency, numerous anecdotal online posts were already buzzing about harassment and prejudice, especially against Chinatowns and other Asian shops and neighborhoods. After Trump's March 18 China-blaming, those accounts spiked dramatically. Asian Americans reported their fears of going out for groceries, walking the dog, or taking their kids to a park.

To address the rise in racist incidents after the White House briefing, Asian American advocacy groups set up reporting websites. The most active site, StopAAPIHate.org, had recorded nearly 700 incidents as of March 26, after its first week. By May 20, more than 1,700 incidents had been reported in 45 states and Washington, D.C. The majority were filed by non-Chinese, and two out of three reports were filed by Asian American women, perhaps because they are perceived as vulnerable and passive.

The rash of hate crimes reports by Asian Americans met with online comments along the disdainful theme "So now Asians have discovered racism," as if they had not previously felt the pain of racism. In San Francisco, the police chief commented on the harassment surge noting that his department hadn't received a single complaint. On numerous occasions, including the mass shooting of a Stockton, CA schoolyard in 1989 that targeted and killed several Southeast Asian children, the first reaction by law enforcement and major news media alike was to deny that racism was involved; the killer was later found to have been influenced by white supremacists. Like sex crime survivors, Asian Americans can be reluctant to file police reports when they expect to be discounted and may even doubt themselves.

Contrary to the doubters, Asian Americans have a long history of experience with racist targeting and scapegoating. In the late 1800s, there was rampant mob violence and ethnic cleansing against Chinese that included lynchings and massacres, with racism codified into federal immigration laws, rendering Chinese migrants as the first "illegal aliens" to America: the Page Act of 1875 barring Chinese women from the U.S., followed by the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882 that made immigration of Chinese men illegal. Subsequent federal laws prevented other Asian immigrants from becoming naturalized citizens until 1952.

In more recent times, the collapse of the auto industry beginning in 1979 led to a prolonged recession. The economy tanked, while frustration, anger, and outrage simmered as politicians and CEOs deflected blame by pointing at Japan, because it produced fuel-efficient cars that buyers preferred to Detroit's gas-guzzling dinosaurs. So did Germany with its Volkswagen Beetles — but racism is a more effective tool when the enemy looks foreign. America's leaders declared an economic war with Japan — just as Trump and other politicians evoke the language of war toward China today.

Back then, anyone who looked Japanese became a moving target as hate-filled rhetoric dominated the airwaves. In that racially charged powder keg, two white autoworkers in Detroit bludgeoned to death a young Chinese American named Vincent Chin — because he "looked Japanese." The same volatile ingredients are present today. There is real terror among Asian Americans that the assaults and hate crimes already taking place will become much worse as communities open up, with more people out of work — and losing lives.

Yet history offers other lessons, showing how people of conscience come together to fight bigotry in times of crisis and scapegoating. Following the killing of Vincent Chin, a broad-based multiracial movement to fight anti-Asian violence emerged — led by Asian American women. After 9/11 in 2001, Asian American groups again came together to support Muslim, Arab, and South Asian American communities against Islamophobia, again with strong women's leadership. Even President George W. Bush warned the nation against xenophobia, setting the tone from his White House that xenophobia and hate crimes would not be tolerated.

That kind of presidential stand against hate is not only lacking today, Trump actively promotes division, anger and violence, putting everyone at risk.

This article was written before the cold-blooded killing of George Floyd and the massive outcry for justice, the insistence that Black lives matter. The nationwide protests and calls for action to stop hate and state violence have opened a conversation about systemic change in America. It will take people, united, to end the state violence that killed George Floyd and Breonna Taylor; to tackle the domination and supremacy that killed Ahmaud Arbery and drives the global increase in violence against women as well as anti-Asian and other hate crimes. Joining together is the only way to solve the systemic disparities of race and gender, health, wealth, and more that have been so starkly laid bare by the COVID-19 pandemic.