The Politics of Representation and Colour
Hadja-Umu Fofana explores issues of race representation and responsibility in Scottish political institutions.
I visited the Scottish Parliament as part of my Master’s cohort at the University of Edinburgh. I am one of only three Scottish students on the course, and the only Black Scottish person, a reality that shaped my experience before I spoke, or even set foot in the Parliament.
Walking into a space such as the Scottish Parliament that’s been held up as a symbol of democratic progress, an institution shaped by the idea that power and representation in Scotland. It was built on the promise of a more inclusive political system, one that reflects the people it serves. Knowing this is what made my experience inside it feel particularly significant and what followed feel so revealing.
During a Q&A session, I asked a question to Jeremy Balfour MSP, now sitting as an independent, about how the representation of people of colour in Scottish politics culd be improved.
The response I received was not unfamiliar, but it was deeply revealing.
What surprised me the most was those moments earlier; he had responded thoughtfully to a question on gender equality. That contrast made what followed even more striking.
In a room filled with international students, where I was the only Black Scottish student. He said that “to be fair to the Scottish government… it’s not really up to them to encourage people of colour to get into politics,” and that “they’re not putting themselves forward and it should be something that should be looked into…”
He went on to draw a comparison to disability, noting that one in four people in Scotland are disabled, and questioned whether parliament should therefore have more disabled representation.
The point itself stands. Disabled people are also significantly underrepresented in Scottish politics. But what stood out to me was how quickly the conversation shifted from structural barriers to a question of individual participation.
He then referred to two South Asian MSPs as coming from an “Islamic background.”
What does that even mean?
In that moment, I felt deflated.
Not because I expected a perfect answer, but because the response reflected something deeper, a way of understanding representation that places responsibility on those who are already underrepresented, rather than on the system that shapes participation in the first place.
Sitting in that room, I was reminded that representation is not just about who is present but about how their presence is understood.
The idea that people of colour are simply not “putting themselves forward” reduces a complex issue to an individual’s choice. It reduces and overlooks the structural barriers that influence who feel able to enter political spaces, who is encouraged to do so, and who is taken seriously when they try. Access to networks, financial stability, mentorship, and a sense of belonging all shape political participation, and these are not distributed equally.
Framing the issue in this way risks suggesting that the responsibility for change lies with those who are underrepresented, rather than the institutions that shape political access in the first place.
The misidentification of ethnic and religious backgrounds may seem like a small detail, but it speaks to a broader issue. Representation is often discussed in terms of numbers, how many people of colour are in the room, but less attention is given to whether there is an understanding of the diversity within those identities. Without that understanding, representation risks becoming superficial.
This is not just one conversation or one response. It reflects a wider tension within discussions of diversity and inclusion in Scotland. There is often a willingness to celebrate representation at a surface level, but less willingness to engage with the structural changes required to make political spaces genuinely inclusive.
As someone studying and engaging with these issues, but also living them, moments like this highlight the gap between how representation is talked about and how it is experienced.
This whole interaction also carried a quieter feeling, one that many ethnic minorities in Scotland will recognise. A constant awareness of being present within national spaces, while never fully feeling accounted for within them.
For institutions that often speak about inclusion, togetherness, and national unity, moments like this can feel like reminders that belonging is still conditional. That some identities are still treated as peripheral to Scottishness, rather than part of it.
And if political institutions are meant to represent the people they serve, it raises a difficult question: who is truly being imagined when we talk about “the people of Scotland?”
Of course, representation does exist in some visible forms. Scotland has had prominent politicians of colour, including Humza Yousaf. But individual examples do not erase wider patterns of underrepresentation, nor do they automatically resolve the deeper questions around belonging, access and political understanding.
The question is not simply whether people of colour are putting themselves forward. It is whether the structure they are being asked to enter is prepared to recognise, support and understand them when they do. Representation is not just about being in the room. It is about whether the room is willing to meet you where you are.
If representation is treated as the responsibility of those who are underrepresented, then what responsibility do political institutions actually hold?
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Representation in an opinion poll sense is not what we are looking for in selecting our political representatives. Rather we are choosing people who will put forward the issues that we think are important to us. Our MP or MSP can be our representative in the same sense as our lawyer, he or she does not have to look like us, share our social class or religion. All of us can be divided up in several ways as to how we identify ourselves with some of those ways more important to us than others. Is it your ethnicity, your religion, your social class, trade or profession, or place of dwelling which dominates?
When someone says that no one in the room shares their colour they are clearly showing that this is highly important to them. Their colour or ethnicity probably also embraces several other identities although these may not be exclusive. A Christian Iraqi and an Muslim Iraqi (Sunni or Shi’a) might have rather different views. The main Edinburgh mosque has attendees from a wide part of the world and varied Islamic traditions. The Scottish electorate in choosing MPs and MSPs of varied ethnic and religious backgrounds from Malcolm Rifkind to Anas Sarwar have clearly a different idea of representation than “he worships like me” or “he looks like me”.
I am fiercely opposed to the kind of representation that has been common in some parts of the world and helped the Otttoman Empire to maintain its control over a multi-ethnic, multi-confessional empire by playing one community off against another; a trick the British learned from them. Let’s look for what we have in common, the issues of everyday concern. I don’t support laws aiding the less abled because I’m disabled but because we all share in the insecurities of life, one day it might be me or someone I care for. I don’t reject discrimination because I am discriminated against but because I believe in basic fairness. The record of those who put themselves at the front of a particular fraction of the population and claim to represent them is not good, they too often end by exploiting their own. They become the conduit, often the sole conduit, between their community and the wider political system. Reserved seats preserve division.
Step outside the big cities anywhere in Britain and you will quickly be reminded that our ethnic minorities are still a minority, and most of them only arrived or were born during my lifetime, 75 years. How well are minorities represent in places of power in your place of origin? You cannot give people freedom, they have to take it. The numerous politicians of colour in the UK shows people are putting themselves forward, getting selected and elected. Political parties are crying out for active members. A middle class man of any faith or ethnicity still has a better chance of being elected than a working class woman.
Are ethnic minorities underrepesented in the scottish parliament though?
I think it’s broadly reflective of the community it serves.
There seems to be a consensus of opinion that many people are being driven out of public life by ever-more-extreme campaigns of hatred and threat these days, making standing for public office a trial of endurance and a security challenge. I’m not sure what can be done about this, apart from depersonalising politics, or doing something radical about social media. Education and mental health measures take longer to effect. Racism and misogyny in particular seem to be getting worse in Scotland and elsewhere, and don’t seem to have trouble crossing national borders.
But if we could make politics about ideas rather than people, what effect would that have on demographic representation? Maybe by depersonalising politics we will reduce humanistic (or theistic) biases and make room for the non-human living planet?
Thanks for this thoughtful articulation of a reality that can so easily elude those of us who don’t see the discrimination because it doesn’t affect us directly.
Seeing where my privilege blinds me is always really liberating. It is extraordinary what a disability privilege is, but addressing that blindness can be helped by kind articulations such as yours.
Privilege cuts across in many different ways, and almost always unconsciously.
I used the word ‘blind’ above without thinking it might evoke the notion those who are blind can see less than me. They can see less visually but they can certainly see really clearly some of the contours of discrimination I find hard to notice.
When I used to teach at Glasgow Uni (before returning to work with communities in Africa) I would often refer to a ‘We’ that referred to all those in the room from across the world who were ‘privileged’ enough to be in the room studying for their Masters or PhD.
The need to recognise the diversity of experience that you highlight is crucial.
The need to challenge the way we are all boxed into thinking in a particular dominant way is also crucial.
Your article articulate the former really well. I’d also be interested in your experience of the latter.
Thanks!