In a world that constantly celebrates progress, equality and social advancement, it is natural to ask whether racism still exists today. We live in an era where the language of inclusion is widely spoken. Governments emphasise unity, institutions highlight diversity, and societies often describe themselves as modern and forward thinking. Yet, despite these assurances, incidents of discrimination continue to emerge across the globe. These moments challenge the comforting belief that racism belongs to the past and force us to confront a more complex and unsettling truth.
The idea that racism has ended is appealing, but it is also misleading. While openly discriminatory laws and practices may no longer dominate public life in many countries, prejudice has not disappeared. Instead, it has adapted. Racism today often operates quietly through attitudes, assumptions and everyday behaviour. It appears in how people are spoken to, how they are viewed, and how their experiences are dismissed. These forms of racism may be subtle, but their impact is profound.
Modern racism rarely presents itself in dramatic or obvious ways. It is often embedded in language, humour and social norms. It can be found in stereotypes that are repeated so often they are accepted as truth, or in the casual questioning of someone’s belonging based on their appearance or background. Because these actions are not always recognised as harmful by those who engage in them, they are frequently excused or ignored. For those who experience them, however, they reinforce a sense of exclusion and inequality.
Recent events in India have brought this reality into sharp focus. The death of 24 year old Angel Chakma, a student from Tripura, in Dehradun sparked widespread public outrage and renewed conversations about racial discrimination. According to media reports and statements from her family, Angel and her younger brother were allegedly subjected to racial slurs such as Chinki, Chinese and Momo at a roadside canteen. When they reportedly objected, the situation escalated into violence, leading to a fatal assault.
While the case remains under investigation and authorities have urged caution before drawing conclusions, the response it has generated speaks to a deeper issue. For many people, particularly those from India’s North Eastern states, this incident reflects a pattern rather than an exception. Individuals from these regions have long spoken about being treated as outsiders, misidentified as foreigners and subjected to racialised language because of their physical features. These experiences may not always result in physical harm, but they leave lasting emotional scars.
At the heart of such incidents lies a troubling question. Who gets to belong without explanation. In societies that pride themselves on diversity, the expectation that certain groups must constantly prove their identity reveals a failure of social understanding. It suggests that equality exists more comfortably in theory than in practice.
This reality is not unique to India. Similar patterns can be observed closer to home in Sri Lanka, where ethnic and religious divisions have shaped social and political life for decades. Despite being a multicultural nation with a long history of coexistence, Sri Lanka continues to grapple with deep rooted prejudice, particularly against minorities such as Tamils and Muslims.
The experiences of Tamil communities in the North and the East of Sri Lanka offer a stark example of how racism and ethnic discrimination can become embedded in everyday life. Decades of civil conflict left not only physical destruction but also long lasting mistrust and marginalisation. Even after the end of the war, many Tamils continue to feel excluded from national narratives of unity and progress. Their identities are often viewed through the lens of suspicion, shaped by history rather than individual reality.
In the North and the East, issues such as land ownership, military presence and access to resources have disproportionately affected Tamil communities. These challenges are not always acknowledged as forms of discrimination, yet they contribute to a sense of unequal citizenship. When people feel that their language, culture and history are treated as secondary, it reinforces the idea that they do not fully belong.
Muslim communities in Sri Lanka have faced their own forms of racial and religious prejudice. In recent years, Muslims have been subjected to stereotyping, misinformation and collective blame, particularly during moments of national crisis. From being unfairly associated with extremism to facing hostility over cultural and religious practices, Muslims have often been portrayed as outsiders within their own country. Such narratives can quickly translate into social exclusion and, at times, violence.
What makes these experiences particularly painful is not only the discrimination itself, but the normalisation of it. When prejudice becomes woven into everyday conversation and public discourse, it is easier to deny its existence. Those who speak out are often told they are exaggerating or being overly sensitive. This dismissal can be just as damaging as the original act of discrimination.
Discussing racism does not mean assigning blame without evidence or undermining the importance of law and due process. Justice depends on facts, fairness and careful investigation. However, acknowledging racism as a social issue is different from accusing specific individuals or institutions. It is about recognising patterns, listening to lived experiences and asking difficult questions about whether systems truly serve everyone equally.
Globally, racism has evolved alongside society. It is no longer always enforced through explicit policies, but through silence, denial and inaction. When allegations of discrimination are quickly brushed aside, it discourages victims from speaking out. At the same time, responsible discourse requires balance and restraint. It is possible to demand accountability while still respecting legal processes and avoiding harmful assumptions.
Institutions such as courts, human rights commissions and educational bodies play a vital role in addressing these challenges. Their involvement signals that discrimination and safety are not merely emotional issues, but matters of constitutional and moral importance. More importantly, they prompt societies to reflect on whether equality exists only on paper or also in everyday life.
Education is another crucial factor in confronting racism. When national identity is taught in a narrow or exclusionary way, it leaves little room for complexity and diversity. In Sri Lanka, as in many countries, education that fully reflects the histories and contributions of all communities has the potential to challenge long held prejudices. Understanding difference, when guided by empathy rather than fear, can reshape attitudes over time.
However, laws and education alone are not enough. The fight against racism ultimately begins with mindset. True progress is not measured by slogans, policies or symbolic gestures, but by how people treat one another in ordinary moments. It is reflected in conversations at home, interactions in public spaces and attitudes in workplaces and classrooms. It is seen in the willingness to listen rather than dismiss and to question personal assumptions rather than defend them.
Racism survives because it is often normalised. When offensive remarks are excused as humour or tradition, they are allowed to continue. When people remain silent in the face of discrimination, even unintentionally, that silence can reinforce harm. Change requires more than passive agreement with the idea of equality. It demands active engagement, reflection and courage.
So, is racism still present in today’s world. The honest answer is yes. It exists in forms that are quieter but no less damaging than those of the past. Yet, alongside this reality lies an opportunity. Every difficult conversation, every effort to understand another person’s experience and every stand taken against prejudice moves society closer to the future it claims to desire.
The real question is not whether racism exists, but whether we are willing to confront it honestly. Progress is not defined by how far we believe we have come, but by how prepared we are to acknowledge what still needs to change. Only when societies choose empathy over denial and understanding over comfort can the promise of equality move from words into lived reality.
