| August 20, 2008 | Wednesday | Sha’aban 17, 1429 |
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Migration and identity
YOU don’t realise how dependent you are on something until you are deprived of it. I am writing this from a cottage on a lovely bay between the Nova Scotia towns of Mahone Bay and Lunenburg. Although the cottage is comfortable, it has neither a telephone, nor an internet connection. I could have done without the former, but have become so used to fast access to news sources around the world that on one level, I feel almost totally cut off. The TV in our sitting room obviously has no Pakistani channels, so I can’t really follow events at home.
But this temporary isolation may be no bad thing, for apart from reading, it has compelled me to think about things other than politics. A couple of days ago, I came across an article in a Canadian newspaper about how ecstatic the large local Chinese community was over the staging of the Olympics in Beijing, and the huge success their athletes were enjoying in the games. Many of them expressed the view that their status in their newly-adopted country had risen due to the positive image of their home nation. And when Canadians were competing against the Chinese, they backed the latter. In this charged atmosphere of gung-ho patriotism, when a group of Chinese human rights activists in Canada tried to agitate against the repression of the Tibetan protest movement, they were accused of treachery.
While this observation is hardly new, it opens up an interesting discussion about identity. Migrant groups forming a widely-dispersed diaspora retain a sentimental image of the home country, and deeply resent their rose-tinted view being tainted by criticism. Thus, while many Pakistanis abroad may watch the chaos back home with private horror and grief, they don’t want this to become widely known where they live, as it affects their standing locally. While a news blackout may no longer be possible in an era of satellite TV and the internet, they are very hostile towards other Pakistanis who confirm the rapid slide back home to foreigners. “Don’t wash our dirty linen in public” is the refrain.
This ostrich-like attitude, the result of a misplaced sense of loyalty, was brought home to me when I was writing a weekly column for a Dubai daily. I used to get a barrage of emails from Pakistanis who had settled in the Gulf, complaining that their Indian friends and colleagues would quote from my articles to underline how bad things were in Pakistan. I would explain that as a commentator, it was my job to analyse the situation as honestly as I could, but this cut no ice with my detractors. “Why don’t you write about positive developments?” they would ask plaintively.
A Canadian friend asked me recently why so many immigrants retained passports from their countries of origin, even after they had acquired Canadian citizenship. I replied that I had never really thought about the matter, and I continue to puzzle over it. Obviously, being a dual citizen leads to divided loyalties. As it is, millions of migrants across the world are struggling to assimilate, while wanting their children to retain their cultural links with their countries of origin. These competing tugs lead to an almost schizophrenic tendency in the younger generation. They try to please their parents at home, while doing their best to conform to the prevailing social norms at school and at their work place. This tension caused by a search for identity has led some young Muslims to seek a radical and violent path.
Another factor that is increasingly blocking the integration of migrant groups is the ease with which they can stay rooted in their own cultural milieus. Historically, national groups tend to stick to their own: thus, in the UK, apart from certain areas of London, Bradford, Manchester and Leeds contain large Pakistani communities. In these neighbourhoods, you almost feel you never left home. I remember when my son first visited London aged about four, friends took us to Southall for a meal. Looking around, Shakir asked: “Are we back in Lahore?”
Now, this feeling has been compounded by the easy access migrants have to TV channels from their home countries. I check several when we are in Devizes to keep up with events in Pakistan, but many families who have settled in the UK spend hours watching desi soap-operas. This keeps them from following local news and serials, reinforcing their alienation from the mainstream. Indeed, children are often prohibited from watching many British programmes because their conservative parents consider them to be inappropriate.
Thus, over time, a wall is erected between the migrant community and the host community. The former often think they have been marginalised due to their religion, culture and skin colour. The latter feel that migrants are stand-offish, and despise the cultural and social values of the country they have moved to for economic reasons. All too often, there is an impression that migrants are abusing the social security system. These perceptions, often exaggerated by the tabloid press, feed into a latent racism.
Many of my Canadian and English friends ask me why this gulf remains so wide. Frankly, I have not been part of the diaspora, and therefore have no experience of this cultural division. Whenever I am abroad, I have been able to move easily between East and West. Although of course it exists, I have no direct experience of racism. But then I have never worked or lived in an environment where it was socially acceptable to express any sort of overt discrimination.
These issues are more important than ever in a post-9/11 world where the loyalty of millions of Muslim migrants is suspect. More often than not, they are considered a sinister fifth column, harbouring a legion of terrorists. Unfortunately, due to some of the problems discussed here, these misunderstandings are likely to grow. And yet, due to natural increase and continuing immigration, the number of Muslims living in the West is going to increase. Unless there is more open discussion and debate over these matters, the wall dividing the communities will continue to rise, as will the mutual distrust.
