Abstract
In the last decade, the political rhetoric around citizenship for ethnic minority groups, particularly recent migrants, in Aotearoa/New Zealand has been influenced by two dominant paradigms. In the wake of the post-neoliberalism advanced by the Fifth Labour Government (1999–2008) and the efforts to build an inclusive state, the idea of the ‘active citizen’ has evolved, encouraging ethnic migrants to contribute to their own communities and to a wider New Zealand identity. Equally, broader discourses on the recognition of group-based citizenship have helped ethnic communities in securing a multicultural framing of social rights. Based on qualitative analysis of interview and policy documents, this paper argues that the active citizen and the rights-bearing citizen emerge from discrete paradigms that reveal a fundamental tension between policy-centred celebration of diversity and the political recognition of difference.
Keywords
Introduction
A dominant, if contested, paradigm for the construction and practice of citizenship 1 in contemporary multicultural, Western democracies recognizes group-based identity of cultural minority groups (see, among others, Gutmann, 1993; Kymlicka, 1996, 2009; Modood, 2007; Parekh, 2000; Taylor, 1997). Echoing feminist literature that highlights the exclusions in conceptions of universal, liberal citizenship (see, among others, Fraser, 1997; Lister, 2003a; Pateman, 1989; Yeatman, 1994; Young, 1990), a group-rights framework sets a theoretical, and policy, corrective that recognizes difference. What have been insufficiently introduced within this paradigm of multicultural framing, however, are the parallel developments in the economic and political institutions that have had equal bearing on the relationship between the citizen (including the ethnic citizen) and the state. The emergence, in particular, of Third Way-led ‘post-neoliberal’, 2 social investment, and inclusive paradigms in the UK, Canada, and New Zealand since the mid-1990s has encouraged an accompanying, and influential, discourse of active citizenship. 3 Defined by duties to the collective, be it volunteering or participation in local democratic processes, the active citizen is an antidote to neoliberalism’s self-interested, individualist consumer-citizen (Clarke, 2004; Kingfisher, 2002; Needham, 2003; Newman and Clarke, 2009) and a move away from social rights citizenship evoked by the welfare state. Not unsurprisingly, in contemporary post-neoliberal societies, citizenship is increasingly framed by the discourse of ‘duty and obligations’ as much as by that of ‘rights’. 4
Both frames, in some ways, advance the possibilities of belonging for members of cultural minority groups. The idea of group rights for ethnic people has influenced policy practice in several countries, allowing for, among other things, public provisions in migrant and refugee education, celebration of religious festivals and wider debates on diversity (Canada and New Zealand are examples). Active citizenship, on the other hand, offers scope for belonging through participation in, and the collective creation of, a common good – one that stems from the recognition of difference (Honohan, 2007). Contextualized in the geo-politics of Aotearoa/New Zealand, what I argue in this paper is that, despite their seeming compatibilities, both these paradigms lend to the development of two salient, if discrete, discursive frames for articulating the norms of ethnic citizenship at the level of policy. The lens of the ethnic citizen reveals the wider interplay of post-neoliberalism and multiculturalism particularly as it articulates the possibilities and limits of cultural difference and capitalism in the early twenty-first century.
The choice of Aotearoa/New Zealand to explore these articulations deserves some explanation. Ethnic diversity in New Zealand has rapidly increased in the last ten years. To fully appreciate this increase, the ethnic profile of New Zealand needs to be explained. The main population groups in New Zealand include Pakeha/Western European New Zealander, Māori/indigenous peoples, Pacific Island communities, and what are considered ‘other’ ethnic groups (comprising people from Asia, Latin America, Africa, Central and Eastern Europe, and the Middle East). In policy discourse ‘ethnic’ is widely used to refer to the ‘other’ ethnic groups. This usage comes into popular discourse through the Office of Ethnic Affairs (OEA), which defines an ethnic person as anyone who is not Anglo-Celtic, Māori or a Pacific Islander (OEA, 2002). As it stands, the term ‘ethnic’ comprises a diverse agglomeration of peoples with vastly differing histories, religious and cultural backgrounds, legal status, and experiences. Thus, what is called the ‘ethnic’ population has geographical origins ranging from South Asia to Latin America; the term espouses recent migrants, naturalised or born citizens, permanent residents, asylum seekers, and refugees, among others. Furthermore, although some Indians and Chinese made New Zealand their home in the late nineteenth century, the growing proportion of ethnic people are recent migrants who have lived in the country between five and ten years. There is also a conflation of the term ‘ethnic’ with government policy categories such as migrants, newcomers, and new settlers.
As noted, a significant trend in recent years has been the rapid increase in the proportions of people of other ethnicities. Whereas in 1991 the ethnic community comprised just over 3 per cent of the population, according to the 2006 Census it comprised about 10 per cent of the population, a growth rate of over 250 per cent (Ministry of Social Development, 2010). Projections estimate that the ethnic population will rise to around 16 per cent of the total population by 2026. The election of Helen Clark’s Labour coalition government in 1999 was the start of a concerted effort to draw the contours of diversity as an inclusionary discourse in contemporary New Zealand, much of which continues despite the change to a conservative right-of-centre National-led government in 2008 and 2011. Clark’s government also set the pace for a distinctive variant of post-neoliberalism; alongside an intractable ideology that relied on the labour market and global growth to boost productivity, the government also intervened in improving socio-economic conditions of the population mostly by means of social policy that fundamentally aimed to enable individuals to participate in the labour market (Elizabeth and Larner, 2009; Larner and Craig, 2005). Politically, it was a government that sought to create conditions for inclusion and engagement with its citizens, a modicum of participatory democracy albeit heavily mediated by state and policy processes.
Against this background, this paper maps the key characteristics of the ethnic citizenship discourse as revealed through policy in Aotearoa/New Zealand. The paper points to the emergent discourses of ‘active citizenship’ that are embedded in the broader civic discourses of ethnicity and diversity, and the ways in which it is becoming a dominant construct for defining the ideal ethnic personhood. However, the paper goes beyond merely sketching the parameters of the active citizenship discourse; it highlights that the ‘active/doing’ citizen lies uneasily in relation to the discourses of ‘rights’ citizenship. Based fundamentally on the analysis of qualitative data, the paper demonstrates that the rights vs. active citizenship frames are at times disconnected discourses that celebrate but also restrain the personhood of the ethnic individual. It argues that the discontinuity between these discourses is not accidental and ultimately reveals inconsistencies of a state that claims inclusion and multiculturalism; fundamentally, these inconsistencies mirror a contradiction between contemporary policy constructions of ‘diversity’, on the one hand, and the substantive political identities, freedoms, and rights accorded to culturally ‘different’ citizens, on the other.
The paper is organized as follows. The introduction is followed by an overview of the New Zealand socio-political context of the post-neoliberal and inclusive state that sets the context for active citizenship generally as well as outlining targeted policy developments for and within the ethnic sector. Following a note on methodology, the second section draws a profile of the ‘active, doing’ ethnic citizen that emerges in policy discourse by tracing the contours of two facets of active citizenship, namely, economic, and political citizenship. The third section, similarly, maps the discourse of rights of ethnic citizens. In a final concluding section, the discussion explores the dissonance between rights-bearing and active citizenship in an inclusive society.
Multiculturalism and post-neoliberalism in New Zealand: A brief overview
Although there has been an ethnic presence in New Zealand since the late nineteenth century (mostly Chinese and Indian settlers), they did not figure dominantly and in fact were actively excluded from legal rights and political, public, or historical imagination until the late twentieth century (Bartley, 2004; Bartley and Spoonley, 2005; Pearson, 2005; Spoonley et al., 2003; Trlin and Watts, 2004). 5 Changes to immigration policy in the mid-1980s and 1990s resulted in greater numbers of ethnic migrants, mostly from South and South East Asia, arriving in New Zealand (Zodgekar, 2005). 6 For the most part their lives were invisible until election time, when anti-immigration campaigns highlighted the ‘yellow peril’. 7
Helen Clark’s government closely aligned itself with Third Way principles (Chatterjee et al., 1999), developing a state responsible for ‘leading, facilitating, enabling, brokering, and funding where appropriate to get results’ (Clark, cited in McQueen, n.d.: 3). Given the accent of her government’s policies on social change and New Zealand’s labour movement tradition, it is argued that Clark's Third Way-ism was played out at the social democratic end of the spectrum (McQueen, n.d.). The scale of social policy involvement grew markedly; government invested in areas of early childhood care, tertiary education, student loans, family tax credits, training, retirement and savings, and accident compensation, to name a few. Despite this, there is no doubt that economic growth or the market was a significant referential frame that guided government ‘investment’ in social development (Larner and Craig, 2005; Larner et al., 2007).
During its terms in office, the Labour government undertook a range of institutional, policy, procedural, programmatic, and legislative measures to promote participatory citizenship that spanned civic, political, and voluntary engagement. Revival of the voluntary sector, refocusing local government’s role that included mandatory requirements for public consultations, and the development of local ‘partnerships’ were among the measures undertaken. The Local Government Act was amended radically in 2002, giving local government broader powers to govern locally to promote the accountability of local authorities to their communities. 8 In addition, the Office of the Community and Voluntary Sector (OCVS) was set up in 2003 to promote vibrant relationships between government agencies and community, voluntary, and Māori organizations. During the same period, the government began to consult quite heavily with communities as part of its everyday policy-making processes, disseminating information and obtaining feedback on government policies through a range of mechanisms such as small group consultations, online feedback, listening forums, road shows, and referendums. Although not without critique (see ANGOA, 2008), these mechanisms significantly influenced the manner in which policy making was enacted in the New Zealand public sector and considerably increased the opportunities for citizen participation in local governance.
Simultaneously, the Clark government also repositioned multiculturalism, ethnicity, and diversity in political rhetoric and policy practice. 9 Three urgent imperatives motivated this repositioning. First, by the late 1990s, there was a growing pool of highly skilled unemployed people among the recent migrants to New Zealand; this not only constituted an inefficiency and burden on the public system, but was in danger of contributing to the social dislocation of a segment of society (Butcher et al., 2006; Trlin and Watts, 2004). Second, the global realignment of culture and security following the attacks on the Twin Towers, the controversy around the Prophet Mohammed cartoons, and, nearer to home, the riots in Cronulla, Sydney, gave impetus to the government to set in place initiatives to celebrate diversity and develop harmonious race relations between host and ethnic, particularly Muslim, communities, who were vulnerable to discrimination (Butcher et al., 2006; Kolig, 2003). 10 Third, the Labour government also responded to the globalization imperative; as part of its economic growth policy, the government repositioned itself as an Asia-Pacific country eager to embrace the opportunities of globalization. ‘Brand New Zealand’, 11 synonymous with innovativeness and a ‘get-go’ attitude, was part of its economic growth package that had – as will be demonstrated below – direct implications for ethnic communities. Finally, as demographic diversity deepens in New Zealand, public debate increasingly seeks to locate the reality of multiculturalism and, with it ethnic citizenship, against the bicultural commitments of the Crown to indigenous Māori that are foundational to the historical and contemporary makeup of New Zealand.
At this time, ‘diversity’ entered the discourses and practices of the public domain. In real and symbolic terms, there were efforts to recognize the place of the ‘ethnic other’ in New Zealand. The Office of Ethnic Affairs was set up in 2001, the role of the Race Relations Commission was expanded, and a Governor-General of Fiji-Indian origin was appointed in 2006 (see ‘Anand Satyanand the next Governor-General’, scoop.co.nz, 3 April 2006). In 2002, the Prime Minister, Helen Clark, apologised to the Chinese community for the historic poll tax that the community was forced to pay from the late nineteenth century to the mid-twentieth century. A National Statement on Religious Diversity was published under the auspices of the Human Rights Commission, and endorsed by a range of faith communities. 12 Since 2004, the Human Rights Commission has hosted the annual Diversity Forum, a symposium that holds workshops, talks, and activities to highlight issues of race relations, inter-faith matters, and diversity in New Zealand.
Policy and research work, led mainly by the Office of Ethnic Affairs, the Ministry of Social Development, and the Department of Labour, around issues of immigration, diversity, ethnicity, settlement and social cohesion increased. 13 The ‘Ethnic Perspectives in Policy’, a framework aimed at ‘mainstreaming’ policy for ethnic people, was developed in 2002 (OEA, 2002). Drawing on emerging evidence, the then Minister of Immigration, Lianne Dalziel, reoriented the focus of immigration policy from achieving immigration targets to one that stressed settlement and positive migrant outcomes after arrival (Bedford, 2004). Significant government policies that affect New Zealand’s diverse population were initiated during this period; most notable of these was the New Zealand Settlement Strategy released in 2005 and updated in 2007 (Department of Labour, 2007; see also Department of Labour, 2005), which outlined the vision and goals of resettlement of new migrants in New Zealand. Funded programmes, which had been available sporadically mainly through non-governmental organisations, were systematized to support the resettlement of refugees and migrants into the country, facilitate their engagement with on-going economic and political processes, and celebrate the growing cultural diversity in the country.
What is presented here is merely a broad sketch of the changes that were simultaneously being instituted in social development, ethnicity, and diversity, and in local community activities. Although set up during Clark’s post-neoliberal period, these policy and institutional structures continue, in large part, to govern state–ethnic citizen relationships and set the context for exploring evolving discourse and practice of contemporary ethnic citizenship in New Zealand.
A note on methodology
Methodologically, the paper is based on the analysis of two forms of data sources. The first is policy and allied documents mainly from the Labour coalition government, including policy statements, cabinet papers, programme descriptions, research papers particularly of research sponsored or undertaken by government, and reports of consultations undertaken by government with ethnic and refugee people. The second data source is interviews conducted between July and November 2009, with nearly 30 actors in the policy domain related to ethnicity. Interviewees included central and local government officials from three key agencies: the Office of Ethnic Affairs, the Ministry of Social Development, and the Department of Labour. They included both policy and operational staff located at the national level and regional offices, some tasked specifically with engaging local ethnic communities and providing settlement support. Interviews were also undertaken with the Human Rights Commission and the Race Relations Office, with community-based Migrant Resource Centres in multiple cities, and with ethnic and refugee organisations, among them groups such as the New Zealand Federation of Multicultural Councils and the ChangeMakers Refugee Forum. Over and above the formal interviews, the analysis is informed by informal conversations with a range of policy actors and by my own positioning as an ethnic migrant with links to community-based organizations.
There are three clarifications worth noting. First, there is considerable diversity amongst ethnic groups, especially in the extent to which they are embedded in the New Zealand society. The Indian and Chinese communities, for instance, who have been in New Zealand for generations or whose recent migrants comprise highly qualified professionals, have well-established structures of representation compared with other ethnic groups. The government’s relationship with each group reflects this diversity. The attributes explained below, therefore, cannot be blindly applied to all ethnic communities, but rather should be seen as qualified by a range of factors, including capacity within communities.
The second clarification concerns the categorizations of the policy actors that are recorded here. Quite broadly, although the analysis reports ‘ethnic communities’ (and their leaders) as distinct from ‘government officials’ or ‘community service providers’, the ‘ethnic vs. Government’ distinction is, in reality, a construction used for heuristic purposes. On the ground, ethnicity and officialdom were not always distinct categories. Government officials were from ethnic minority groups (in fact, many of them occupied multiple positions, as community leaders and as public-sector employees). Thus, the ethnic vs. government distinction expresses particular standpoints; there are enough thematic patterns to justify the view that institutional positioning influences discourse and meaning.
Finally, in developing the construction of the active ethnic citizen, the analysis deconstructs the manner in which policy actors describe the roles, rights, and responsibilities accorded to ethnic peoples. Given this, it is important to distinguish between social discourse and individual identity. The prevalence of particular discourses does not necessarily mean that all ethnic individuals subscribe to them. Both identity and discourse are fluid, and constantly undergoing renegotiation; a range of socio-cultural factors determine individual choice of identity. Kukutai and Didham’s (2009) analysis shows, for instance, that children born in New Zealand to New Zealand-born parents were more likely to identify as ‘New Zealanders’ rather than as belonging to a group-based ethnicity. While not disregarding the complexity of ethnic identification, the point that is reinforced in this article is that there is a (relatively dominant) discourse around citizenship and ethnicity circulated through state policy discourse and practice.
Constructing the active ethnic citizen: ‘doing’ citizenship
We want all migrants … to contribute fully to our nation’s social and economic life. (Department of Labour, 2005: 1, italics added)
The profile of the active ethnic citizen is couched in the language of contribution and ‘doing’. In the discourses of the policy community, the active ethnic citizen is not a passive recipient of the government’s largesse or a self-designated dependant; rather, s/he is projected as proudly self-supporting. These are not contested views; both government officials and ethnic community members and their representatives acknowledged the ethnic migrant/refugee to be someone who wanted to actively contribute to New Zealand. The following interview excerpts underscore a taken-for-grantedness that ethnic migrants/refugees
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‘want to’ contribute to New Zealand. Yes, they [migrants] want to contribute something to this country. (community service provider, italics added) Refugees want to engage; to be productive. (government official, italics added) We might not be maximizing the skills and the value that those people can contribute to our economy. So if we start looking at … how do we enable ourselves as New Zealanders to benefit from what migrants are here to contribute. (government official, italics added)
The repeated claim that migrants ‘want to’ is an important one. Not only do migrants ‘want to’ be independent, they also ‘want to’ be part of a collective through contribution. This is citizenship-by-doing; the ethnic migrant’s contribution, therefore, is also their moment of political identity, that of being an active citizen. It is through their act of contribution that they become sentient political beings and empowered social citizens. The status of contribution turns the terms of their citizenship contract away from an ethos of charity that ethnic migrants, it seems, eschew. There are two arenas, in particular, wherein active and ‘doing’ citizenship is played out: economic citizenship and political citizenship
Economic citizenship
A primary arena in which the notion of being ‘active’ is signalled in policy text, particularly for recent migrants, is in economic contribution. The New Zealand Settlement Strategy (2005), for instance, accords employment the highest priority in its settlement goals for new migrants, to facilitate migrants ‘to obtain employment appropriate to their qualification and [to ensure that they] are valued for their contribution to economic transformation and innovation’ (Department of Labour, 2005: 11). The emphasis on employment is neither unusual nor unexpected; certainly, scholarly critiques of post-neoliberal/Third-Way states have pointed to the subtext of ‘employability’ and ‘market readiness’ (Clarke, 2005; Levitas, 2005; Newman and Clarke, 2009). However, the added, and notable, feature of the active ‘ethnic’ citizen is, as the New Zealand Settlement Strategy notes, in their ability to contribute to economic transformation and innovation, i.e. ‘stimulating innovation and creativity in business and strengthening relationships between international and domestic markets’ (Department of Labour, 2005: 9). Thus, ethnic citizens are not merely expected to be individually economically active and independent; they are enjoined to be catalysts for growth in New Zealand.
The notion of the ethnic citizen, particularly recent migrants, as enabling economic growth was widespread among the interviewees; as an illustration, the shared views of two participants, one official and the other a migrant, are reproduced below. Immigration is like an economic enabler … [what] we should be getting into is enabling employers to understand a little more than just welcoming people and making them feel comfortable. Maybe understand how that person might connect your business globally or might bring new ideas to your business. (government official, italics added) [If you go and tell the government that migrants are] not going to be costing the country any more … we’re going to create a more vibrant nation, a nation which would be able to utilize its diversity in a similar form as most of the progressive and developed nations have used and an example is the United States. (representative of ethnic community, italics added)
In the discursive frame of policy actors, then, the ideal ethnic migrant was a travelling repository of skills and knowledge, an entrepreneur, a connector, and an economic ambassador who would promote new ideas and be instrumental in fostering a knowledge economy while also generating new, lucrative contacts outside New Zealand.
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The ‘entrepreneurial’ ethnic citizen, a protagonist in New Zealand’s burgeoning global ambitions, is constituted at a propitious time in the country’s economic development. This idea of the ‘entrepreneurial’ ethnic citizen is supported by official policy discourse that sees the future of New Zealand tied to its diversity. In its pivotal document, ‘Towards an Inclusive Economy’, Clark’s Labour government noted both the intrinsic and the instrumental value of diversity: Diversity is important both as freedom for people to express their individuality or cultural aspirations, and instrumentally to make New Zealand a more interesting and stimulating place to live, facilitate new ideas and innovate behaviour, foster competition, raise productivity, and open new markets. (Inclusive Economy Working Group, 2001: 14, italics added)
What is worth remarking about these ideas is the unmistakable convergence of the political and the economic in a discourse of citizenship; for instance, Mervin Singham, the Director of the Office of Ethnic Affairs, promotes the idea of ‘Strength in Diversity’, a paradigm in which, ‘instead of seeing increasing ethnic diversity as a huge challenge, we could see ethnic community integration as a global talent management opportunity for us’ (Singham, 2006: 36, italics added). Singham’s ‘global talent management’ – the marrying of the economic with difference – draws on a contemporary rhetoric extolling the economic benefits of diversity but its extension into the political realm is part of a relatively recent move that binds globalization with citizenship. These entrepreneurial ethnic subjects are akin to the expatriate New Zealanders called on in Larner’s (2007) study of the KEA network to make good their overseas networks to engender an edge in global competitiveness. Like the expatriate community, the entrepreneurial ethnic citizen is indicative of the ‘new latitudes of citizenship’ prevailing in New Zealand (Ong, cited in Larner et al., 2007: 342). Also like the expatriate, the entrepreneurial citizen is constituted to undertake elite initiatives. Thus, as a subject, the entrepreneurial citizen is shaped by a particular political imaginary: these are not the unemployable, low-skilled, migrants on New Zealand's social welfare; rather, these are affluent, established business people, operating transnationally. The favoured entrepreneurial ethnic citizen is a classed subject. 16
Political citizenship
The second prominent dimension of activation associated with the ethnic citizen is political citizenship, a non-monetarized involvement in issues and activities that articulate a voice for the ethnic community. These are ‘political’ in that they require, at a subtle level, mobilizing of community identity. Political citizenship requires involvement in personal and community volunteering, and civic engagement. The politically active ethnic citizen is expected to be a communitarian at heart, taking leadership roles in her/his own ethnic community, participating in the activities of the host or mainstream community and engaging, where required, with the government. Unlike economic citizenship, political citizenship is played out at the local level rather than on a global or national scale.
In the role of a volunteer, the active citizen is to give her/his time freely to organizations, usually community organizations. Volunteering has reciprocal benefits for both the organization and the ethnic person; it provides much-needed support to organizations that are strapped for labour, and in return it gives migrants a sense of belonging. This facet of active citizenship was noticeably visible in the last decade and, as the interviewee below noted, it is an important part of raising and coalescing community ethnic identity and deepening individual belonging. Note the following transcript: But the greater spirit of volunteering continues and I think that is what one of the things that migrants have learned here is the spirit of doing voluntarily and I think that has made things possible for the ethnic groups as well. So much of time is given voluntarily. (ethnic community leader)
A particular strand of this volunteering is ‘care volunteering’, that is, volunteering to develop relationships (a sort of ‘buddying’) between and among communities. The ‘care volunteer’ enacts citizen duties and obligations through everyday acts of responsibility, to families, neighbours, friends, and even strangers. As a government official explains, this ‘care volunteering’ is about ‘doing something for themselves’ and might be as everyday as ‘inviting somebody into your house for a cup of tea’ (interview, official). However, even such ordinary acts are connoted as part of the ‘duty’ of citizens. 17
Civic engagement – a second dimension of political citizenship highlighted in policy – reflects a broad duty for ethnic people to articulate their needs to the government. It was the government’s intent to improve the conditions and ‘settlement’ outcomes for migrants from ethnically different backgrounds and, to some extent, ethnic people were expected to contribute to the policies and programmes that would augment this improvement. Thus, ethnic citizenship was also to be enacted through participation in the activities of government policy making, as co-producers of policy making or in delivery of social services. As the quotes below suggest, there is an onus on ethnic migrants to have their voices heard, and to ensure that they are present at the forums where decisions are being made. It is in these engagements that ethnic community identity is realized as a political voice, and minority voices authorized. If migrants are not around the decision-making table, as the first quote notes, they are likely to be overwhelmed by Pakeha/European constructions of their needs and interests. Being new to the country, it is about settlement issues. Migrants need to be around the table. The Pakeha [European] community, they are the dominant voice. (government ethnic community worker) It is important for them to say what they want. This is a society that is based on needs and if you don’t say it, the government will think it’s all ok with your community. (local government official)
Politically active ethnic citizenship, thus, operates at various levels. It realizes belonging through the constitution, including dissembling and affirmation of collective identities. The political ethnic citizen is also inclusive; enacted as it is in one’s home and neighbourhood as much as it is in government forums, politically active ethnic citizenship seeks to make active citizens of all. Participation in such civic engagement is, according to Honohan (2007), quintessentially civic republican in character where culturally diverse communities influence public debates. This engagement is vital to creating a sense of belonging; as contributors to the common, overarching public realm, the culturally different are living not in isolation but rather in interdependence; this interdependence is ‘created in deliberation, not pre-politically, emerges in multiple publics to which all can contribute, and is not definitive, but open to change’ (Honohan, 2007: 7).
In sum, deconstructing the discourse of active citizenship reveals the ethnic subject as both subject and object of policies of diversity. As subject, they operate within discourses of strength and opportunity; contribution shows up the ethnic migrant, individually and collectively, as self-sufficient. Through this discourse of contribution, immigration is rationalized and migrants/refugees are seen to regenerate rather than drain the resources of New Zealand. Yet they also precariously hover on the edges of being objects of these policies. In their paper on ethnic migrants in New Zealand, Simon-Kumar and Kingfisher (2011) point out that, although ethnic people participate in the policy processes, there were clear constraints on their actual influence in policy, echoing recent scholarship that the involvement of citizens in ‘invited’ spaces of government participation is different from citizenship participation in ‘popular’ spaces of politics (Barnes et al., 2004; Cornwall, 2004; Lister, 2007a). In the present study, participants widely acknowledged that the processes of consultation were genuinely free and wide ranging; however, the actual policy outcomes were whittled down to suit a ‘prescribed idea’ (interview, community service provider) of settlement that corresponded to the Labour government’s social (and, indirectly, economic) policy agenda. This prescribed agenda inevitably focused on ‘education, employment and English and probably health,… and health… was not mental health, it was physical health’ (interview, community service provider). In other words, participation was encouraged in those areas that are favoured in a post-neoliberal interventionist approach.
To the critical eye, then, the ethnic active citizen falls into Clarke’s (2010) category of ‘ordinary people’ recruited into governing strategies; underlying the rhetoric of wanting to contribute, they are also required to contribute. In fact, they are required to identify themselves as ethnic, required to create communities and act as if speaking from their positioning as an ethnic person. As the idea of engaging the ethnic citizen becomes the norm, the number of events that they, on average, contribute to has increased. In ways not expected of other non-ethnic citizens, government institutions assume that, simply by virtue of being a migrant or refugee, ethnic people will: want to be part of a community and will want to be consulted and will put as a priority that they will go to these things as opposed to sitting at home and spending time with their family. (community service provider)
Thus, the expectation that migrants will want to participate in the government-sponsored programmes is underwritten into their political identity. As an active citizen, the ethnic individual is assumed to ‘want to’ exhibit and be framed always by their cultural diversity.
The rights-bearing ethnic citizen
Good settlement outcomes are essential to achieve social inclusion and a shared sense of national identity, while at the same time recognizing and respecting the diversity that exists within our society.
Contrary to the ‘active, doing’ citizen, as a bearer of rights and entitlements, the ethnic subject in New Zealand occupies a contentious space. Divergences emerge among policy actors at the juncture where constructions of national identity, citizenship entitlements and obligations are articulated. The official or public perspective and the ethnic community view differ around questions of differential or similar rights in relation to cultural minorities. Unlike the theoretical problematique in which, as noted earlier, the reservation against the accommodation of culture-specific rights is its potential to create intra-group disadvantages, in the context of New Zealand the idea of special rights for ethnic migrants militates against two specific concerns: the struggle for special rights for indigenous Māori and the imperative to construct a national identity. Thus, in an interesting twist, both the official view and the ethnic view embrace a concept of equal, if universal, citizenship for the ethnically differentiated citizen; however, the notion of equality they use differs vastly – the ‘public/official’ one is contextualized within liberal ideals of individualized equality, while ethnic communities locate themselves in civic republican visions of common and equal good. In both worldviews, difference, while recognized, is the background to, rather than framing factor, in ethnic citizenship.
The two sets of excerpts that follow represent officialdom’s perspective (as articulated by a diversity commentator located in a quango) and an ethnic view (using interview transcripts from ethnic community leaders) respectively. Some context should be given to their excerpts. Since 2006, an established wing of the ethnic community in New Zealand has been lobbying to pass the Multicultural Act in Parliament. The Act, still in its preliminary phases, is currently being lobbied by its proponents in public forums and in the annals of government in the effort to garner sufficient political support for its introduction in Parliament. The responses below are set against the viability of the Multicultural Act and its significance for reconstituting New Zealand as a multicultural, rather than bicultural, society. A group differentiated citizenship in terms of identity … it needs to be debated whether that’s the best thing for this society … calls for ‘special rights’ have been more articulated in the context of Crown and tangata whenua [Māori]. I think that’s where it has sat, and will continue to be debated. I don’t know if there is much room at the moment to bring in ‘special rights’, group rights for other groups. And because of our bicultural foundation I don’t know whether that ‘multicultural’ movement in creating the collective identities would actually have much room here. (official ethnic advisor)
In this ‘official’ view, 18 the multicultural rights borne by the ethnic citizen are bound up in the tension between biculturalism and multiculturalism, in which the latter is seen to dilute Māori claims under the Treaty of Waitangi (Bartley and Spoonley, 2005; Walker, 1995). According to the official, biculturalism cannot be folded into multiculturalism; a liberal notion of universal citizenship for newcomers, in some respects, preserves indigenous citizenship, and any special rights for ethnic migrants can be argued only on grounds of discrimination. Racial difference alone, in this view, cannot account for unifying all cultural minorities; thus, a nuanced interplay of belonging, Māori connection to the land, and historical grievances draw stronger lines that mark ethnic migrants and indigenous people as having ‘different’ group rights. The particular historical context of Aotearoa/New Zealand, therefore, demands not a unified notion of citizenship status but instead a range of citizenships befitting the particularities of broad cultural groups.
Thus, the rights borne by the ethnic citizen are bound up in a range of identities: National Identity, biculturalism and multiculturalism, that exist in inherent tension to each other. Diversity (rather than multiculturalism) sits uneasily amongst these, acknowledged as part of New Zealand identity without actually being central to the normative status of ethnic citizenship. Meanwhile, there have been attempts to locate multiculturalism in relation to biculturalism. Authors such as Bartley and Spoonley (2005), for instance, advocate a pragmatic, ‘workable’ multiculturalism that is first and foremost cognizant of Māori interests, while to Durie (2005) any tension need not be debilitating as the two pertain to very different issues: biculturalism to governance rights of Māori, and multiculturalism to tolerance and celebration of cultural difference generally. Thus, in public, political and academic discourse, there is no clear resolution of this tension; at best, multiculturalism must be revisioned to exclude any explicit discussion of rights.
In the perspectives from the community, especially the proponents of the Multicultural Act reproduced below, differentiated citizenship takes on a completely different meaning. According to them, a differentiated ‘ethnic’ status ghettoizes rather than empowers cultural minority groups. Rather than recognition, which highlights one sector – here, the ethnic community – as different, they propose a paradigm of multiculturalism where all differences are equally recognized, so that everyone is equally ‘different’. [A]cceptance of ethnicity was seen as tolerance, while appreciation of multiculturalism would be seen as understanding, respecting … So that’s where the goal post has now shifted … early on it was so different just really creating a platform and saying that ok, bringing people together was the vision. Now we have brought people together so it’s a different paradigm and so now the vision is that to get the ethnic people at the same equal footing and being recognized as anybody else … (ethnic community leader 1) Being ethnic is still being another sector – like Māori or Pacific Island. We want to move towards multiculturalism … moving towards bringing everyone. (ethnic community leader 2)
Interestingly, equality and universality, which at some level demand a distancing from ethnic difference, inform the two opposing views of marginality and citizenship. In the former, differentiated citizenship is framed against the status of the indigenous population; Māori figure prominently in how differential rights are constructed and how new ethnic migrants are constituted against biculturalism, particularly in official discourses of migrant citizenship. The ethnic leadership, on the other hand, argues a case for equal, but not necessarily universal, citizenship. It is through a notion of equal citizenship, as they see it, that ethnicity will cease to be ghettoized. This equal citizenship they propound – what they refer to as ‘a different paradigm’ – can be effectively operationalized only in a relativist multicultural society where no one culture is dominant. In short, what the latter are requiring is situating citizenship – in a civic republican sense – by radically transforming New Zealand into a classless, raceless, religion-free society, or what Phillips (2007) calls ‘multiculturalism without culture’. The contrasting views recounted above strongly entrench the landscape of multiculturalism/biculturalism in what Fleras (2009: 130) calls the ‘politics of isms’ – should the primacy of biculturalism define the inclusion of new immigrant and ethnic groups, or should, as Bromell (2008) suggests, claims for multicultural rights be contained within a radical democratic frame where difference is among a welter of disadvantages to be remedied by public policy?
The fundamental tension articulated in these commentaries centres around an agreed understanding of multiculturalism and the location of differences within these understandings. There are oppositional views in scholarship around differentiation and rights. Young (1990), Yeatman (1994) and Kymlicka (1996, 2009) argue for group-differentiated citizenship allowing, as Kymlicka’s typologies of cultural groups indicate, for a nuanced understanding of differentiation, depending on the minority group in question. In direct opposition to the differentiated citizenship argument, recent scholarship has questioned the tenability of multiculturalism, both as theoretical construct and as policy endeavour. The ‘retreat from multiculturalism’ (Joppke, 2004: 237; see also Grillo, 2007; Honohan, 2007) seen in such countries as Australia, the UK, the Netherlands, France, and Belgium is premised on the argument that multiculturalism and an abundance of difference have fragmented rather than coalesced coherent national identities. Thus, difference, while entertained in public constructions of ideal societies and citizenship, cannot be taken to its logical end, where everyone is placed equally (Joppke, 2004). The retreat from multiculturalism is not necessarily a return to culture-blind universality but rather a turn to republican-style emergent spaces where identities are contained in the background of citizenship status; as Honohan (2007: 5) suggests, it is vital to grant recognition to citizens themselves ‘in their identities, rather than of their identities per se’ (italics in original).
Concluding remarks
In drawing the various thematic strands together, I begin by recapitulating the main arguments. This paper proposed that citizenship of ethnic minorities in Aotearoa/New Zealand is framed by two, potentially oppositional, discourses, one which constructs ethnic people as ‘active’ citizens and the other that defines their claims to rights and entitlements. Of these, policy discourses reify the active citizen; embedded (and revealed) in policy discourse of the post-neoliberal, inclusive state rather than legal status, the ethnic citizen comes into being through activity, through doing. Whether it is in political, communal or economic domains, there is an emergent contemporary discourse of ‘citizenship-by-doing’ or of the ideal ethnic citizen as one who ‘does’ citizenship. Formulated within a discourse of strength and diversity, the active ethnic citizen is an artefact of a particular late twentieth- to early twenty-first-century state form, and it is against the geo-politics of the multicultural, inclusive, and (post-)neoliberal New Zealand state that these discourses of citizenship must be located. In the absence of a long-standing historic connection to New Zealand such as through identification with land or through military participation, citizenship-by-doing has particular advantages. The ethnic (particularly migrant/refugee) person realizes their citizenship status through contemporary projects of nation building through economic and social development, both globally and locally.
Despite this, the active ethnic citizen is a problematic category on various levels. The discourse of the active citizen itself is contradictory: active ethnic citizens operate at the global and local scale, enact their responsibilities in their private homes and the state’s invited public spaces, defend, discard, dissemble, and reify cultural identity, are ascribed feminized tasks of caring and masculinized goals of achievement, and are defined by action and emotion. Thus, the ethnic citizen is not an organic subject or a subject-position, but a multiplicity of subjectivities; the ethnic citizen exists in the political imaginary. The political imaginary designates clear tasks and responsibilities to the ethnic citizen; yet, unlike a strictly republican view, there is no checklist of duties and obligations that ought to be fulfilled. Instead, the emphasis here is on the ‘becoming’; institutions and practices of the state foster certain modes of conduct, and ethnic citizenship evolves through everyday engagement between polity, economy, and society, particularly community. These practices, in turn, inform the manner in which cultural differences are realigned; there are particularities of citizenship practice that are specific to, and define spaces for, cultural communities. Thus, the ‘doing’ ethnic citizen potentially transitions from being a co-producer of policy to being a co-opted participant in policy. In moving from Object to Subject, the active citizen becomes a political rationality of the inclusive state (Clarke 2005; Lister 2007a).
This rationality of the ethnic ‘doing’ citizen surfaces against a discussion of rights of the culturally ‘different’. Whereas, in the context of New Zealand, neoliberal moves of the state since the 1980s had created progressive spaces for Māori to gain indigenous rights, granting them ‘Māori citizens-plus rights’ status (MacDonald and Muldoon, 2006; see also Lewis et al., 2009), for the ethnic citizen who is grounded in actions, the tricky questions of entitlements and rights are deftly bypassed. Questions around same, equal, similar, equitable, or special identity – those questions that vex social justice theorists – are neatly avoided against the discourse of active citizenship. True, while cultural difference is not in jeopardy in New Zealand – there is, for instance, no move to homogenize cultures within the public realm and, if anything, diversity is publicly and officially celebrated – difference as rights-talk sits in an uncomfortable zone always deflecting against both national identity and biculturalism. 19 The tension between the active and the rights-bearing citizen is also, then, I propose, a more fundamental tension in Western liberal democracies than that between diversity and difference. While ‘diversity’ is fast becoming the acceptable term to encapsulate heterogeneity within populations, it is important, as Ahmed and Swan (2006) remind us, to recognize what terms it displaces (does it displace ‘equality’?). ‘Diversity’, particularly, as Ahmed’s (2008) critique elaborates, is the contemporary ‘happy’ term used by governments to deal with cultural heterogeneity. ‘Happy’ diversity denotes an injunction to move away from terms such as ‘inequality’ and ‘racism’ that are unhappy reminders of the ongoing socially unjust realities of being culturally ‘different’. Herein is another tension. Whilst the ordinary, ‘doing’ citizen is marked by the particularities of their cultural identity, the rights-bearing ethnic citizen is not. Although diversity is acknowledged, the stability of national identity and history does not permit ‘differences’. In the end, as Ralph Grillo (2007: 993) argues in the context of multiculturalism – and this may have purchase in New Zealand’s definition of ideal ethnic citizenship – ‘difference seems ungovernable, diversity may be managed’.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge with gratitude the comments received on an earlier draft by Professor Catherine Kingfisher, and the anonymous referees of this journal.
Funding
This research was funded by the Royal Society of New Zealand’s Marsden Fast-Start Grant No. UOW0805.
