Mar 04, 2025
When you think of Josephine Baker, you might picture her shimmying across a Parisian stage in a banana skirt,1 dazzling the world with her charisma and boundary-pushing performances. But there was a lot more to Baker than her dance moves and signature style. Behind the feathers and rhinestones was a fearless woman who weaponized her fame against fascism, making her one of the most badass figures of the 20th century; and the world can certainly use more of that these days.
Born in St. Louis in 1906, Baker’s early life was marked by poverty and racial violence, which left her with a fire that would fuel her entire career. By 19, she’d escaped to France, a country that, despite its flaws, treated her like a superstar instead of a second-class citizen. Baker didn’t just thrive; she conquered, becoming the first Black woman to star in a major motion picture and packing venues with audiences who couldn’t get enough of her bold performances. The French adored her, and Baker adored them right back—so much so that when World War II broke out, she didn’t hesitate to put her life on the line for her adopted home.
Recruited by the French Resistance, Baker became a full-fledged spy. She smuggled secrets written in invisible ink on her sheet music, hid documents in her underwear, and used her celebrity status to gain access to high-ranking Axis officials. Her fame allowed her to travel across Europe without suspicion, gathering intelligence at embassy parties and passing it along to the Allies. She was such a pain in the ass to the Nazis’ that they put her on their most-wanted list—a distinction Baker probably wore with pride.
But espionage was just one chapter of her story. Baker also served as a sub-lieutenant in the Free French Air Force, earning the Croix de Guerre and the Rosette de la Résistance for her service. After the war, she wasn’t content to rest on her laurels. She took her fight for justice to the U.S., refusing to perform for segregated audiences and publicly calling out racism. When the New York Stork Club denied her service because of her race, Baker didn’t just complain—she sparked a media firestorm that put American hypocrisy on full display.
Her activism didn’t end there. Baker adopted 12 children from different ethnic backgrounds, calling them her “Rainbow Tribe,” in a deliberate rebuke to the idea of racial superiority. In 1963, she was the only woman to speak at the March on Washington, standing before thousands in her French military uniform and declaring, “I have walked into the palaces of kings and queens and into the houses of presidents… but I could not walk into a hotel in America and get a cup of coffee.”2
Josephine Baker lived her life as a series of mic drops, refusing to be confined to anyone’s expectations of what a Black woman—especially an expatriate one—could or should do. Whether she was mesmerizing audiences, smuggling secrets, or standing up to Jim Crow, Baker did it all with a level of audacity that can only be described as iconic.
So the next time you think of Josephine Baker, remember that the bananas were just camouflage. Beneath them was a spy, a soldier, an activist, and an absolute force of nature.
