
Introduction: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
“If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar first appeared in Poetry magazine in 2017 before becoming the title poem of her 2018 debut collection If They Come for Us. The poem’s enduring power and popularity lie in its urgent, incantatory litany of belonging—an embrace of scattered diasporic identities across generations, faiths, and cultural practices. Asghar’s verse insists that kinship is not simply inherited by bloodline but continuously re-sewn in acts of recognition: “the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind / bindi a new moon on her forehead / I claim her my kin & sew / the star of her to my breast.” The poem’s populist grandeur comes from its capacious inclusivity, gathering the Sikh uncle at the airport, the Muslim man at prayer, and the khala in crocs into a collective compass that orients identity through solidarity rather than borders: “my people my people I can’t be lost / when I see you my compass / is brown & gold & blood.” In Harold Bloom’s mode of prose, one sees here the tension between mortality and survival, the diasporic cry against erasure, and the visionary fusion of private lyric with public history. The poem’s refrain—“my people my people”—becomes both invocation and defiance, an affirmation that to come for one is to come for all, and it is this ethic of communal survival, wrought in luminous images of aunties’ dupattas turning to ocean and uncles’ hands grinding the air, that has secured the poem’s place as one of the most celebrated expressions of contemporary Muslim and South Asian American identity.
Text: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
these are my people & I find
them on the street & shadow
through any wild all wild
my people my people
a dance of strangers in my blood
the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind
bindi a new moon on her forehead
I claim her my kin & sew
the star of her to my breast
the toddler dangling from stroller
hair a fountain of dandelion seed
at the bakery I claim them too
the Sikh uncle at the airport
who apologizes for the pat
down the Muslim man who abandons
his car at the traffic light drops
to his knees at the call of the Azan
& the Muslim man who drinks
good whiskey at the start of maghrib
the lone khala at the park
pairing her kurta with crocs
my people my people I can’t be lost
when I see you my compass
is brown & gold & blood
my compass a Muslim teenager
snapback & high-tops gracing
the subway platform
Mashallah I claim them all
my country is made
in my people’s image
if they come for you they
come for me too in the dead
of winter a flock of
aunties step out on the sand
their dupattas turn to ocean
a colony of uncles grind their palms
& a thousand jasmines bell the air
my people I follow you like constellations
we hear glass smashing the street
& the nights opening dark
our names this country’s wood
for the fire my people my people
the long years we’ve survived the long
years yet to come I see you map
my sky the light your lantern long
ahead & I follow I follow
Copyright © 2017 by Fatimah Asghar. Originally published in Poetry (March, 2017). Used with the permission of the poet.
Annotations: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
| Line | Text | Simple English Annotation | Literary Devices |
| 1 | these are my people & I find | The speaker declares that the individuals she’s about to describe belong to her community, and she encounters them in everyday life. | Enjambment ↔️, Anaphora 🔁 (start of repeating “my people”) |
| 2 | them on the street & shadow | She finds them on the streets and follows them closely, like a shadow. | Enjambment ↔️ |
| 3 | through any wild all wild | She follows them through any difficult or chaotic place, emphasizing the danger and unpredictability of the world. | Enjambment ↔️, Repetition × (wild/all wild) |
| 4 | my people my people | A strong, emotional declaration of kinship and belonging. | Repetition ×, Apostrophe 🗣️ (addressing the people) |
| 5 | a dance of strangers in my blood | This community is diverse, made up of people who might be strangers to each other, but they are all connected to the speaker through a fundamental, deep bond (in her “blood”). | Metaphor 🌟 (dance of strangers) |
| 6 | the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind | A specific image of an elderly woman whose traditional garment (sari) seems ephemeral or vanishing in the wind. | Imagery 🎨, Metaphor/Hyperbole 🌟 |
| 7 | bindi a new moon on her forehead | Her bindi (a dot worn on the forehead) is beautifully and powerfully compared to a crescent moon. | Metaphor 🌟, Imagery 🎨 |
| 8 | I claim her my kin & sew | The speaker formally accepts this woman as her family (“kin”) and keeps her close to her heart. | Enjambment ↔️ |
| 9 | the star of her to my breast | The woman is compared to a guiding star, and the speaker metaphorically attaches this light or symbol of identity to her own chest, signifying protection and deep connection. | Metaphor 🌟 (star of her), Imagery 🎨 |
| 10 | the toddler dangling from stroller | A vivid image of a small child in a stroller, perhaps excitedly or loosely hanging on. | Imagery 🎨 |
| 11 | hair a fountain of dandelion seed | The toddler’s light, soft hair is compared to the delicate, spreading seeds of a dandelion. | Metaphor 🌟 (fountain of seed), Imagery 🎨 |
| 12 | at the bakery I claim them too | The speaker continues to include these diverse individuals in her community, seeing them everywhere, even in ordinary places like a bakery. | Enjambment ↔️ |
| 13 | the Sikh uncle at the airport | A specific person: an older Sikh man working at the airport. | Specific Detail/Imagery 🎨 |
| 14 | who apologizes for the pat | He is shown to be kind and perhaps conscious of the discomfort or profiling associated with the security pat-down. | Enjambment ↔️ |
| 15 | down the Muslim man who abandons | Another specific person: a Muslim man so devout he immediately stops what he’s doing. | Enjambment ↔️ |
| 16 | his car at the traffic light drops | The man leaves his car where it is to pray. | Enjambment ↔️, Imagery 🎨 |
| 17 | to his knees at the call of the Azan | He kneels to pray immediately upon hearing the Azan (the Muslim call to prayer). | Cultural Detail 🕌 |
| 18 | & the Muslim man who drinks | Contrast: A different Muslim man, showing the diversity of religious practice. | Enjambment ↔️, Juxtaposition ☯️ |
| 19 | good whiskey at the start of maghrib | This man drinks alcohol right as Maghrib (sunset prayer time) begins, highlighting that “her people” are not monolithic. | Cultural Detail 🥃, Juxtaposition ☯️ |
| 20 | the lone khala at the park | A specific woman: an aunt (khala) sitting by herself in the park. | Specific Detail/Imagery 🎨, Cultural Term (Khala) |
| 21 | pairing her kurta with crocs | She mixes a traditional South Asian tunic (kurta) with very casual, modern footwear (crocs), symbolizing the blend of cultures. | Imagery 🎨, Juxtaposition ☯️ |
| 22 | my people my people I can’t be lost | A renewed, emphatic statement of belonging; the community is her anchor and guide. | Repetition ×, Apostrophe 🗣️ |
| 23 | when I see you my compass | The speaker’s sense of direction and moral guide is tied directly to the existence of her community. | Enjambment ↔️, Metaphor 🌟 (compass) |
| 24 | is brown & gold & blood | Her compass is defined by their skin color (“brown”), their inner value/spirit (“gold”), and their shared kinship/life force (“blood”). | Metaphor 🌟 (colors as compass), Tricolon 3️⃣ |
| 25 | my compass a Muslim teenager | The specific image of one member of the community is the compass. | Metaphor 🌟 |
| 26 | snapback & high-tops gracing | Description of the teenager’s modern, confident attire (a snapback cap and high-top sneakers). | Enjambment ↔️, Imagery 🎨 |
| 27 | the subway platform | The teenager is grounded in a modern urban setting. | Imagery 🎨 |
| 28 | Mashallah I claim them all | An Arabic phrase meaning “what God has willed” (expressing appreciation/joy); the speaker embraces everyone she sees. | Cultural Term (Mashallah), Apostrophe 🗣️ |
| 29 | my country is made | The speaker redefines “country” not as a geopolitical state, but as the collective identity of her community. | Enjambment ↔️, Metaphor 🌟 (country) |
| 30 | in my people’s image | Her true “country” is a reflection of the diverse faces and lives of her people. | Metaphor 🌟 |
| 31 | if they come for you they | The central idea of the poem: an immediate, shared threat; an act against one is an act against all. | Enjambment ↔️, Synecdoche/Metonymy 🏷️ (“they”) |
| 32 | come for me too in the dead | An expression of solidarity and fate, particularly in a time of great vulnerability (“dead of winter”). | Enjambment ↔️, Synecdoche/Metonymy 🏷️ |
| 33 | of winter a flock of | The community is described using collective, natural imagery. | Enjambment ↔️, Metaphor 🌟 (flock) |
| 34 | aunties step out on the sand | A communal image of older women (aunties) together, stepping onto a beach (sand). | Imagery 🎨, Cultural Term |
| 35 | their dupattas turn to ocean | Their traditional scarves (dupattas) are poetically transformed into the vastness and power of the sea, symbolizing their strength and unity. | Metaphor 🌟, Imagery 🎨 |
| 36 | a colony of uncles grind their palms | The men (uncles) are a collective (“colony”), perhaps rubbing their palms together out of worry, determination, or preparing for work/prayer. | Metaphor 🌟 (colony), Imagery 🎨, Cultural Term |
| 37 | & a thousand jasmines bell the air | A sudden burst of beautiful, fragrant natural imagery (jasmine flowers) fills the atmosphere, representing the community’s presence and spirit. | Hyperbole ✨, Imagery 🎨 |
| 38 | my people I follow you like constellations | The people are compared to stars in the sky, serving as an ancient, reliable guide. | Simile ≈, Apostrophe 🗣️ |
| 39 | we hear glass smashing the street | A harsh, sudden sound representing violence, chaos, or destruction directed at the community. | Imagery 🎨, Onomatopoeia 🎧 |
| 40 | & the nights opening dark | The atmosphere becomes ominous and dangerous. | Enjambment ↔️, Imagery 🎨 |
| 41 | our names this country’s wood | The community’s names/identities are tragically the material for destruction—they are being targeted. | Metaphor 🌟 (wood for the fire) |
| 42 | for the fire my people my people | The poet clearly states that the community is fuel for persecution and repeats the kinship declaration. | Repetition ×, Apostrophe 🗣️ |
| 43 | the long years we’ve survived the long | An acknowledgement of historical resilience and past trauma. | Enjambment ↔️, Repetition × (long years) |
| 44 | years yet to come I see you map | A look toward the future, anticipating continued struggles but also the continued presence of the community. | Enjambment ↔️, Metaphor 🌟 (map my sky) |
| 45 | my sky the light your lantern long | The people act as a guide and a source of hope for the speaker. | Enjambment ↔️, Metaphor 🌟 (lantern) |
| 46 | ahead & I follow I follow | A final, emphatic commitment to the community and their shared journey into the future. | Repetition × (I follow) |
Literary And Poetic Devices: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
| 🌟 Device | 📖 Definition | ✍ Example (from text) | 🔍 Explanation |
| 🎭 Allusion | Indirect reference to cultural/religious practices or symbols. | “call of the Azan” | Refers to the Muslim call to prayer, rooting identity in shared faith. |
| 🔁 Anaphora | Repetition of a word/phrase at the beginning of successive lines. | “my people my people” | Builds rhythm and emphasizes solidarity, belonging, and collective identity. |
| 🌍 Cultural Symbolism | Use of cultural objects to signify identity. | “bindi a new moon on her forehead” | The bindi symbolizes heritage and femininity, linked to celestial imagery. |
| ✨ Enjambment | Continuation of a sentence without pause beyond line breaks. | “my people my people / a dance of strangers in my blood” | Creates flow and urgency, mirroring the unstoppable pull of kinship. |
| 🔊 Epizeuxis | Repetition of a word in immediate succession. | “my people my people” | Heightens emotional intensity, echoing belonging and longing. |
| 🕊 Imagery | Vivid sensory descriptions appealing to sight, sound, touch, etc. | “dupattas turn to ocean” | Transforms cloth into nature, blending culture with powerful natural imagery. |
| 🕯 Invocation | Addressing an absent group/person as though present. | “my people my people” | The poet calls out directly to her community, uniting them in verse. |
| 🔗 Juxtaposition | Placing contrasting elements side by side. | “the Muslim man who abandons / his car… & the Muslim man who drinks / good whiskey” | Contrasts piety and secular habits, showing diversity within community. |
| 🌌 Metaphor | Implied comparison between two unlike things. | “my compass is brown & gold & blood” | Identity and heritage are compared to a compass, guiding direction and belonging. |
| 🎶 Musicality | Rhythm and sound patterns enhancing lyrical quality. | “a thousand jasmines bell the air” | The soft assonance and consonance create a melodic, chant-like effect. |
| 🌱 Natural Imagery | Use of natural elements to describe people/identity. | “hair a fountain of dandelion seed” | Links the toddler’s innocence to renewal and fragility of nature. |
| 📜 Parallelism | Use of similar grammatical structures in lines. | “my country is made / in my people’s image” | Mirrors biblical or constitutional phrasing, asserting communal nationhood. |
| 🌊 Personification | Attributing human qualities to inanimate objects. | “the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind” | The sari comes alive, carrying heritage into a spiritual realm. |
| 🧭 Refrain | A recurring phrase throughout a poem. | “my people my people” | Serves as a heartbeat of the poem, reinforcing unity and survival. |
| 🌟 Repetition | Reusing words or phrases for emphasis. | “I claim her my kin & sew / the star of her to my breast” | Repetition of “claim” underlines affirmation of belonging. |
| 🔮 Symbolism | Use of objects/figures to represent deeper meanings. | “lantern long ahead” | The lantern symbolizes hope, survival, and intergenerational guidance. |
| 📖 Syntax Variation | Play with sentence structures for effect. | “my compass a Muslim teenager / snapback & high-tops” | Dropping verbs compresses meaning, making the compass-teenager image more powerful. |
| 🌌 Tone (Defiant & Tender) | Poet’s attitude toward subject. | “if they come for you they / come for me too” | Tone blends defiance (against oppression) with tenderness (protecting kin). |
| 🌠 Visual Imagery (Constellations) | Associating people with stars and sky. | “my people I follow you like constellations” | Suggests permanence, guidance, and collective brilliance across time. |
Themes: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
- The Liturgical Assertion of Self-Sovereign Kinship: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar establishes a fierce, almost liturgical assertion of a self-made community that acts as a bulwark against an indifferent or hostile external world. The poet engages in a radical act of sovereignty, declaring her “people” not by inherited nationality or state mandate, but through an intuitive, visceral recognition: “these are my people & I find / them on the street.” The repetition, “my people my people,” functions as a rhythmic, mantric anchor, elevating the diverse individuals—the “old woman’s sari dissolving to wind,” the “Sikh uncle at the airport,” the “Muslim teenager”—from fleeting figures into sacred, claimed entities. This choice is vital because the speaker’s political and spiritual orientation is entirely dependent on this collective, transforming simple observation into a salvific act. She culminates this re-making of identity by declaring, “my country is made / in my people’s image,” effectively collapsing the external political structure and replacing it with a nationhood forged in shared experience and the composite identity of “brown & gold & blood.” This new “country” offers the only true compass in a disorienting, dangerous landscape.
- The Profound Anxiety of Collective and Imminent Persecution: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar centers on the core anxiety of a shared, predetermined fate that binds the community, a prophetic dread that lends urgency and high stakes to every claimed face. The title itself, drawn from the famous line by Martin Niemöller, immediately posits the group under surveillance and threat. The poem moves from celebratory recognition to stark prophecy with the chilling condition: “if they come for you they / come for me too.” This is not a casual promise but an acceptance of a singular, inescapable destiny. The mundane urban setting suddenly acquires a terrifying potential, signaled by the abrupt intrusion of violence and chaos: “we hear glass smashing the street / & the nights opening dark.” This transition reveals the community’s ultimate fragility, forcing their names and identities to become “this country’s wood / for the fire.” The profound agon (struggle) here is the fight for physical existence, where the beauty and cultural richness of the people are constantly shadowed by the awareness that their visibility—their very names—marks them for potential sacrifice in the “dead / of winter.”
- Constellatory Mapping: Resilience and the Guidance of Survival: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar draws profound strength from the historical resilience of the diasporic and marginalized body, transforming survivors into celestial guides. The community is not merely a collection of victims but a procession of ancestors and contemporaries who have already endured “the long years we’ve survived.” This endurance gives them a supernatural, almost mythic quality in the speaker’s eyes. She pledges, “my people I follow you like constellations,” a powerful simile that reframes these ordinary individuals as fixed, reliable points of light in a turbulent, dark sky. The individual—the “Muslim teenager / snapback & high-tops” or the collective “flock of aunties” whose “dupattas turn to ocean”—is transcended, becoming part of a larger, guiding pattern. The speaker’s dependence on this enduring light is absolute: “I see you map / my sky the light your lantern long / ahead & I follow I follow.” This spiritual following is an act of faith, asserting that their collective survival and the cultural markers they carry will continue to illuminate the path forward for the next generation.
- The Dynamic Spectrum of Identity: Blended Piety and Secular Hybrids: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar pointedly refuses any singular, monolithic definition of the South Asian Muslim or Sikh experience, embracing the tensions between the sacred, the secular, and the assimilated as integral to the collective identity. Asghar purposefully disrupts easy categorization by presenting sharply contrasting figures side-by-side. The profound devotion of “the Muslim man who abandons / his car at the traffic light drops / to his knees at the call of the Azan” is immediately followed by “& the Muslim man who drinks / good whiskey at the start of maghrib.” This juxtaposition is not meant to judge but to broaden the tent of belonging. Similarly, the mixing of worlds is embodied by “the lone khala at the park / pairing her kurta with crocs.” These images confirm that the community’s power lies in its internal diversity, where traditional piety and contemporary, hybridized assimilation are equally valid expressions of self. The speaker “claim[s] them all” unconditionally, suggesting that true kinship requires accepting the full, contradictory spectrum of human practice, which in turn fortifies the community against external demands for homogeneity.
Literary Theories and “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
| Literary Theory | Application to If They Come for Us | References from Poem |
| 🌍 Postcolonial Theory | Explores identity, displacement, and cultural hybridity in diasporic communities. Asghar resists erasure by reclaiming kinship across ethnic and religious lines, forming a collective identity beyond borders. | “my people my people I can’t be lost / when I see you my compass / is brown & gold & blood” |
| 🕊️ Feminist Theory | Highlights women’s resilience and symbolic continuity across generations. The sari and dupatta imagery asserts female lineage as a cultural thread of survival. | “the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind / bindi a new moon on her forehead” & “a flock of aunties step out on the sand / their dupattas turn to ocean” |
| ⭐ Cultural Studies | Focuses on everyday practices and cultural markers of Muslim, South Asian, and immigrant communities. Asghar elevates ordinary details—bakery, stroller, crocs—into emblems of solidarity. | “the toddler dangling from stroller / hair a fountain of dandelion seed” & “the lone khala at the park / pairing her kurta with crocs” |
| 🔍 Reader-Response Theory | Centers the reader’s role in generating meaning. The refrain “my people my people” draws readers—especially marginalized ones—into a shared emotional compass of belonging. | “Mashallah I claim them all / my country is made / in my people’s image” |
Critical Questions about “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
🌸 Question 1: How does “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar explore the theme of collective identity?
In “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar, the theme of collective identity emerges through the poet’s repeated invocation of “my people my people.” This refrain creates a rhythm of solidarity, reminding readers that identity is not individual but shared across community. The speaker claims kinship in strangers—“the Sikh uncle at the airport” or “the Muslim man who abandons / his car at the traffic light.” Even differences in practice, such as “the Muslim man who drinks / good whiskey at the start of maghrib,” are folded into belonging. The compass metaphor—“my compass is brown & gold & blood”—further demonstrates that community and heritage act as guiding forces, ensuring the self can never be lost. Thus, Asghar grounds the personal within the collective, resisting isolation through affirmation of kinship.
✨ Question 2: In what ways does “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar highlight resilience in the face of historical and present struggles?
In “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar, resilience is portrayed as an inheritance carried across generations. The lines “the long years we’ve survived the long / years yet to come” reflect both history and futurity of struggle, while “lantern long ahead” becomes a symbol of hope that illuminates the path forward. Even when violence intrudes—“glass smashing the street & the nights opening dark”—the poem refuses despair, instead affirming the survival of community as “constellations” that map the sky. Resilience, here, is both an act of memory and a political stance: to endure is to resist erasure. By layering the past, present, and future of struggle, Asghar crafts a vision of survival that defies defeat.
🌺 Question 3: How does “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar use cultural and religious imagery to assert belonging?
In “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar, cultural and religious imagery serves to root belonging in everyday life while elevating it to cosmic significance. The “bindi a new moon on her forehead” and “dupattas turn to ocean” link cultural artifacts to celestial and natural grandeur, signifying that heritage is both eternal and transformative. Religious invocations, from the “call of the Azan” to the blessing “Mashallah,” frame identity as sacred, affirming pride in community practices. By stitching these images into the fabric of the poem, Asghar resists the marginalization of diasporic identities. Belonging, then, is not granted externally but claimed internally, through cultural and religious markers that speak of dignity, continuity, and pride.
🌼 Question 4: What role does solidarity play in the political and emotional power of “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar?
In “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar, solidarity becomes both shield and statement. The promise “if they come for you they / come for me too” captures the essence of political resistance through communal defense. Figures such as “the lone khala at the park” or “aunties step out on the sand” transform into emblems of unity and cultural pride, embodying shared survival. Repetition of the refrain “my people my people” amplifies this solidarity, creating a chant-like bond that resists fragmentation. Politically, it challenges systems of exclusion, and emotionally, it offers assurance of never being alone. By naming solidarity as both defense and defiance, Asghar positions community as the true homeland—one carried in people rather than borders.
Literary Works Similar to “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
- “Calling a Wolf a Wolf” by Kaveh Akbar 🐺🗣️
- Similarity: Shares the use of cultural and linguistic specificity as a crucial component of claiming and defining a threatened identity.
- “A Small Needful Fact” by Ross Gay 🌱🫂
- Similarity: Shares the poetic move of turning from profound grief and injustice toward a necessary, insistent act of re-humanization through found beauty.
- “What the Living Do” by Marie Howe 🧭🏡
- Similarity: Elevates the mundane, resilient reality of everyday survival and small, immediate acts of compassion into a spiritual anchor against loss.
- “The Country Without a Post Office” by Agha Shahid Ali 🗺️⏳
- Similarity: Shares the sense of political geography shattered, where the only reliable “country” and “compass” is the beloved, enduring community.
Representative Quotations of “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
| Quotation | Context | Theoretical Perspective |
| 🌸 “these are my people & I find / them on the street & shadow” | The opening lines immediately establish the speaker’s core theme: actively identifying and claiming her community in everyday, public spaces. | Diasporic Kinship / Found Family |
| 🌺 “my people my people / a dance of strangers in my blood” | A mantra-like declaration of collective identity, acknowledging the diverse, perhaps unfamiliar, individuals who are bound together by a shared ethnic or cultural lineage. | Postcolonial Identity / Collective Subjectivity |
| 🌼 “bindi a new moon on her forehead / I claim her my kin & sew / the star of her to my breast” | The speaker claims an older woman with a traditional mark, transforming her into a celestial guide and making the act of recognition a deeply personal, protective vow. | The Poetics of Witnessing / Sacred Symbolism |
| 🏵️ “the Sikh uncle at the airport / who apologizes for the pat / down” | This detail captures a specific, shared experience of marginalization and racial profiling, highlighting the daily humiliations endured by the community. | Racialization / The Politics of the Body |
| 🌷 “the Muslim man who abandons / his car at the traffic light drops / to his knees at the call of the Azan / & the Muslim man who drinks / good whiskey at the start of maghrib” | The immediate juxtaposition of strict piety and secularized practice, showing the wide, non-monolithic spectrum of Muslim identity. | Hybridity / Pluralism of Identity |
| 💐 “my compass / is brown & gold & blood / my compass a Muslim teenager / snapback & high-tops gracing / the subway platform” | The speaker redefines her moral and existential guide, replacing national ideology with the lived reality and aesthetic of a contemporary, urban, marginalized youth. | Queer/Brown Futurity / Counter-Geographies |
| 🌸 “my country is made / in my people’s image / if they come for you they / come for me too” | The central thesis of the poem, declaring sovereignty over one’s own identity and establishing total, immediate solidarity against an external, looming threat. | Communal Resistance / Political Solidarity |
| 🌺 “their dupattas turn to ocean / a colony of uncles grind their palms” | Imagery that transforms traditional garments and communal gestures into symbols of vast natural power and collective unity in the face of danger. | Mythopoeia / Metaphorical Transformation |
| 🌼 “our names this country’s wood / for the fire my people my people” | A chilling, explicit metaphor that names the community as the intended fuel for persecution or xenophobic cleansing. | Prophetic Warning / State Violence |
| 🏵️ “I see you map / my sky the light your lantern long / ahead & I follow I follow” | The concluding statement affirms that the community’s survival and existence serve as the only reliable light, guiding the speaker into a potentially dark future. | Enduring Resilience / Poetic Vocation |
Suggested Readings: “If They Come for Us” by Fatimah Asghar
Books
- Asghar, Fatimah. If They Come for Us: Poems. One World / Random House, 2018.
- Asghar, Fatimah. When We Were Sisters. One World, 2022.
Academic Articles
- Yunusoğlu, Andrada. “Longing and Belonging in If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar and Home Is Not a Country by Safia Elhillo.” SSRN, 31 Dec. 2023. https://ssrn.com/abstract=5148940
- Tracey, Janey. “Yesterday Is Tomorrow in Fatimah Asghar’s If They Come for Us.” Ploughshares Blog, 18 Dec. 2018. https://pshares.org/blog/yesterday-is-tomorrow-in-fatimah-asghars-if-they-come-for-us/
Poem Websites
- “If They Come For Us.” Poets.org. https://poets.org/poem/if-they-come-us
- “If They Come For Us.” Poetry Foundation. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/147243/if-they-come-for-us