Diane Abbott is no stranger to misogynistic and racist abuse, facing a consistent tirade since the beginning of her parliamentary career in 1987. The latest example to come to light have been comments made by Frank Hester, the largest donor of the Conservative party.

In 2019, Hester reportedly remarked that Abbot made him “want to hate black women” and that she “should be shot”. The conservative donor insisted the comment had “nothing to do with her gender nor the colour of skin”.

I wholeheartedly agree; it was everything to do with both.

In a parliamentary debate last week, Rishi Sunak insisted that “the gentleman apologised” and that “[his] remorse should be accepted”. Sunak then proceeded to argue that members of the Conservative party had also faced mean comments in the past, referencing the party being called “‘scum” by Deputy Labour Leader Angela Rayner.

It seems that for the Prime Minister, a mandate ‘for someone to be shot’ is on a semantic par with being likened to murky bath water. These tactics of deflection and minimization are the tip of the iceberg that is the structural hatred of Black women in British society today.

Hester’s position as the largest donor to the Conservative party and Sunak’s inability to fully condemn his actions are no coincidence: politics, whilst seemingly divorced from business, is inherently connected to neoliberal capitalism.

As founder and chief executive of healthcare company TTP, Hester has been able to secure large NHS contracts through the leverage of his heavy investment in the conservative party.

This relationship has reportedly seen Hester providing Sunak transportation in a helicopter to his offices valued at £16,000. Despite mounting pressure from Labour and the Liberal Democratic Party, the Prime Minister has refused to commit to divestment from Hesters’ funding. Morality it seems, is a small price to pay for a helicopter ride.

This intricate connection between money and so-called ‘democracy’ highlights the danger of representation politics. I here refer to the phenomenon of marginalised groups being represented within positions of power, providing a smokescreen for the lack of structural change which actually occurs.

Sunak embodies this ideology, arguing in the parliamentary chamber that his status as the first Indian prime minister of the UK is proof of the absence of racism within his party.

We have seen racism perpetuated under this guise a multitude of times.

The same colonial and patriarchal logics which embolden racist political actors can be found beneath the institutional maltreatment of Black women across all sectors of society, to healthcare and education.

From Suella Braverman referring to refugees as “cockroaches” to ex-Home Secretary Priti Patel unveiling her insidious Rwanda migration plan, it has been made abundantly clear that the existence of people of colour in positions of power does not make them immune from reproducing inequality.

As writer Audre Lorde reminds us, “The masters tools will never dismantle the masters house”.

Moving forward, it is crucial that we understand Hesters’ comments as not isolated, but symptomatic of the wider misogynoir which permeates British society today.

The same colonial and patriarchal logics which embolden racist political actors can be found beneath the institutional maltreatment of Black women across all sectors of society, to healthcare and education.

It is no wonder, for instance, that Black women are six times more likely to die in childbirth than their white counterparts when we live in a system where threats can be made upon our lives, with no consequences but our fear.

Our government standing up for Diane Abbott would mean standing up for one of the 1,505,360 Black women currently living in the United Kingdom. It is difficult to put a number on how little this country values Black women.

Compared to the amount Frank Hester has donated to the Conservative government, we are clearly worth less than £10 million pounds. 

Maya Mcfarlane is a PhD Candidate (NOTAF) at the University of Cambridge