The provocative questions posed by Hamilton's anti-racism push

The 1999 movie The Green Mile tells the story of a prison guard working on death row at Louisiana State Prison, and his encounter with a black inmate who possesses supernatural powers. The lead character, played by Tom Hanks, has a urinary infection cured by a convicted child murderer, acted by Michael Clarke Duncan, this giant of a man later restoring life to a pet mouse belonging to another prisoner.

Welcome to the 'Magical Black Character', which acclaimed film director Spike Lee spoke about during a lecture at Yale University in 2001. Lee asserted that Hollywood film makers, unable or unwilling to cast black actors as normal people, instead preferred to introduce black characters as being mystical or magical, imbued with special powers to satisfy some need in the white characters and calm the conscience of a predominantly white audience.

Other examples of this approach have included The Legend of Bagger Vance (Will Smith is Matt Damon's mystically gifted golf caddy), What Dreams May Come (Cuba Gooding Jr plays Robin Williams' supernatural spiritual companion), The Matrix Trilogy (Laurence Fishburne is a freedom fighter guiding Keanu Reeves through an alternate reality), and Bruce Almighty (Morgan Freeman plays God).

This is the kind of benign but pernicious way in which black people have been characterised in contemporary culture, and Lewis Hamilton touched on it when he wrote about 'the implicit bias in our systems or the things that society does to let us know we're different'.

His words form part of the article he wrote for The Sunday Times on 21 June in which he announced the creation of The Hamilton Commission. The commission will work with the Royal Academy of Engineering to explore how motor racing can engage with young black and other ethnic minority people to encourage them into studying the four STEM subjects: science, technology, engineering and mathematics.

That statement came less than four weeks after an event far removed from the world of F1, but which had affected Hamilton deeply. The death of George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American who died as Minneapolis policeman Derek Chauvin knelt on his neck for almost eight minutes, sent shockwaves around the world.

Floyd's alleged killing, during which he pleaded with Chauvin "I can't breathe", was recorded on a mobile phone camera and later picked up by social media and news outlets worldwide. Global outrage was instantaneous, triggering protests focused on the Black Lives Matter movement. Chauvin, meanwhile, was sacked from his job and faces second degree murder charges. His three colleagues, who stood watching while Floyd died, face charges of aiding and abetting.

There is no longer any room for underlying racism to remain unquestioned. It's an uncomfortable moment for the championship, and it has taken its only black protagonist to demand that F1 confronts some home truths

Hamilton's response to the killing reflected much of the mood among the black community. "This past week has been so dark," he wrote on Instagram on 2 June. "I have failed to keep hold of my emotions. I have felt so much anger, sadness and disbelief in what my eyes have seen. I am completely overcome with rage at the sight of such blatant disregard for the lives of our people."

Hamilton's call to get behind the Black Lives Matter movement immediately produced much support but also an inevitable backlash from some, including those fond of the trope 'All Lives Matter'. That, however, does not cut it with the black community, as former West Indian fast bowler Michael Holding related in an impassioned film for Sky Sports.

OPINION: Hamilton is using his power to drive change in and out of F1

"This Black Lives Matter movement is not trying to put black people above white people, it is all about equality," he said. "When you say to somebody black lives matter and they say all lives matter or white lives matter, please, we black people know that white lives matter. Don't shout back at us about all lives matter. It is obvious, the evidence is clearly there that white lives matter, we want black lives to matter too - it's as simple as that."

Unfortunately, Hamilton is no stranger either to racism or those who deny its existence. Both he and brother Nic have related how their formative years were afflicted by it.

"Being a black family in a white-dominated sport such as motorsport was not always going to be easy," said Nic recently, going on to recall karting "at Rye House [a circuit in Hertfordshire] - we're all sitting there in our Vauxhall Cavalier and everyone just staring at us, almost like 'who is this black family that's just turned up and what are they doing?"

Racism in sport is a well-trodden topic, though much less in motor racing than in football where monkey chants and bananas thrown on pitches sadly remain a problem. Overt racism in Formula 1 circles is not unknown, however, most notably during that infamous incident at pre-season testing in Barcelona in 2008 when a group of fans decided to dress up in black faces and wigs, wearing 'Hamilton's family' T-shirts.

Racist abuse of the most appalling nature was shouted at Hamilton and his associates, although details of that abuse were not reported verbatim by motorsport media - the words too offensive to relate. The temptation to accept the fans' protests that it was 'just a bit of fun' was left unchallenged.

Some Spanish fans, perhaps incensed Hamilton had beaten local hero Fernando Alonso to second in the world championship the previous year, had decided to use racism as a weapon to demean, offend and provoke an F1 driver who happens to be black.

Hamilton's response to the protests that followed Floyd's killing are nothing new for a man who has already spent much of his professional career promoting good causes and sharing his beliefs. He has devoted the last decade to using his growing stature on the international stage to generate awareness of issues including child poverty, animal cruelty, pollution of our oceans and climate change.

The work he has done for Unicef, such as visiting children's welfare programmes in Cuba, does not get much attention in the motorsport press. Hamilton's support for Comic Relief, Save The Children or Australia's wildlife charities, to which he donated USD$500,000 in the wake of last season's bushfires, has generated much needed publicity for the relevant organisations.

It has also led to collective eye rolling from critics - the same critics who are now coming under scrutiny as to why they feel the need to question Hamilton's motives or denigrate him for living tax-efficiently in Monaco; for having once owned a private jet, or for spending time in America - lifestyle decisions made by many British drivers since Jackie Stewart's day. What is it about Hamilton they dislike so intensely?

Now that Hamilton has planted the anti-racism movement centre stage in Formula 1 there is no longer any room for underlying racism to remain unquestioned. It's an uncomfortable moment for the championship, and it has taken its only black protagonist to demand that F1 confronts some home truths.

Hamilton's 2 June social media statement in the wake of Floyd's death was followed three days later by a reflection on his own experiences and those of his family. In it he recalls facing racial discrimination but being advised by his father to keep his head down, say nothing and let his performances on the kart track do the talking.

"I was bullied, beaten and the only way I could fight this was to learn to defend myself," Hamilton wrote. "So I went to karate. The negative psychological effects cannot be measured. This is why I drive the way I do, I'm still fighting."

For anyone analysing his mesmerising pole position lap for July's Styrian Grand Prix, the motivation woven by Hamilton's lifelong anger, frustration and fear born out of feeling different and being made to feel different, won't feature. Yet in the make-up of Britain's most statistically successful F1 driver, at least some of the answers lie in him being the foremost black man in a white man's world.

A sport in the midst of its 70th anniversary year has pivoted in a matter of weeks to confront a challenge on social justice, equality and inclusion. This is what campaign momentum looks like

Further social media postings about racism and the fight against inequality have followed. This included Hamilton's support for the removal of the statue of slave trader Edward Colston in Bristol, his approval of a giant Black Lives Matter slogan on 16th Street outside the White House currently occupied by Donald Trump, and a picture showing a caged black child in the Belgian Congo in the 1950s. The message was consistent, but Hamilton's campaign was not restricted to online postings.

None of the thousands of people taking part in the Black Lives Matter protest march in London on Sunday 21 June will have recognised a placard-carrying, six-time F1 world champion in their midst. By then Hamilton's campaign was having a profound impact.

To the FIA's credit, it responded quickly, issuing a statement about the death of George Floyd on 5 June. The day after Hamilton was protesting in London, F1 announced its We Race As One campaign. A week later, Mercedes announced it would run an all-black livery for the 2020 season, pledging to improve diversity inside the team and across motorsport.

OPINION: The top-down change to help address racism in F1's society

This is what campaign momentum looks like. A sport in the midst of its 70th anniversary year has pivoted in a matter of weeks to confront a challenge on social justice, equality and inclusion. It would be nice to think it would have happened anyway, but it's difficult to see any of this taking place had Hamilton not sat astride the sport as its dominant figure.

It has certainly wrong-footed the old guard, Bernie Ecclestone giving CNN a typically contrary but poorly considered interview during which he said that, "...in lots of cases black people are more racist than white people."

Hamilton's response was withering: "Bernie is out of the sport and a different generation but this is exactly what is wrong - ignorant and uneducated comments which show us how far we as a society need to go before real equality can happen," he said.

"
It makes complete sense to me now that nothing was said or done to make our sport more diverse or to address the racial abuse I received throughout my career - it starts at the top."

Britain's John Ameachi is black, a former world class basketball player whose London-based company provides leadership coaching, often dealing with what they call 'intractable people problems.' 
In his opinion, leaders within a professional sport like F1 have a duty to set the tone when dealing with a topic such as racism, to see themselves as giants for whom even a small movement will have a significant effect.

Ameachi's view is that all too often people who say they are not racist do little to help matters by remaining silent. He explains how those he calls 'not-racist' will act in a situation where someone has said something racist.

"Someone who's not-racist: they won't say or do anything in that moment. They tend to be bystanders. Afterwards they'll find other people who are also not-racists and they'll talk to each other about, 'well, that was terrible, that thing that happened the other day'."

Instead, Ameachi promotes anti-racism. 
"Anti-racists are constantly looking around to say, 'what tools do I have available to make it clear that this is not acceptable'? What they do is they make sure that they never miss an opportunity to let the world know where they stand. You become someone who makes other people want to be anti-racist too."

The most public and controversial manifestation of Hamilton's push for F1 to become anti-racist has been his decision to 'take the knee' before the opening races of the season. Public, because it was staged in front of the world's media; controversial due to the decision of some drivers not to join him.

Unfortunately, it's been a fiasco in terms of F1's optics, for although Hamilton has accepted that no one should be forced to follow his example, the sight of 20 F1 drivers unable to act together in supporting a single, simple gesture leaves uncomfortable questions hanging in the air.

PLUS: Why was taking a knee a step too far for some F1 drivers?

First prominently utilised in this context by San Francisco 49er quarterback Colin Kaepernick during the US national anthem in his team's pre-season match in 2016, taking the knee has become a symbol of protest against racial inequality and police brutality.

The FIA, F1 and the teams will need to work with Hamilton to ensure that not only are their actions seen to be right, but that subsequent changes make the sport more accessible

Hotly debated in America, with some feeling it is an insult to the anthem; others supporting its message of support for those affected by racism. Indeed, Hamilton has revealed regret at allowing himself to be dissuaded from using a race helmet design in support of Kaepernick at the US GP.

But Hamilton is more than making up for that now, and the 'take the knee' debate is now washing through F1, for although all drivers have committed to fight racism and agreed such through the Grand Prix Drivers' Association, some opting not to make the gesture has confused many observers.

Daniil Kvyat took the time to explain that from a Russian perspective you should only kneel before God or the national flag, while Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen announced it was not something they wished to do, although they support the wider campaign.

The question that now arises is 'what next?' Toto Wolff has already had media asking him how long the Mercedes livery will remain black, while F1 may need to develop more formalised processes around the pre-race build up if Hamilton determines that taking the knee is to become a permanent fixture. He has already said that he plans to continue doing it for the balance of this season, and he's consistently stated through the early races that he won't stop pushing others in F1 to do more to tackle the problem.

Ultimately the FIA, F1 and the teams will need to work with Hamilton to ensure that not only are their actions seen to be right, but that subsequent changes make the sport more accessible to black and other ethnic minorities.

OPINION: The F1 battle that Hamilton cannot fight by himself

"Right now I am trying to push the sport for diversity," Hamilton said back in February. "It is a multi-cultural sport in the sense of nationalities but in an organisation of nearly 2000 people there is not a lot of colour, not a lot of minorities, so I am pushing and trying to get the sport to go in that direction.

"It is very, very unlikely at this current point that you are going to see another me come through in the next ten or 20 years. How can we change that? My goal is really to try and work with the sport, with the governing body, to try and shift the cost of the lower categories and make it more open to working-class families, because that's what we were."

That Britain's most successful F1 driver ever is likely to remain the only black driver to have competed at this level is a prospect Hamilton is all too aware of. It is now up to all those engaged in Formula 1's leadership to determine whether Hamilton's legacy is that of forcing a permanent change to make F1 more inclusive, or to consign him to the role of Hollywood's Magical Black Character - the only black man to have competed at the pinnacle of world motorsport.