The dangers of ‘one of us’: The NZ Chief Human Rights Commissioner on othering

2019/05/22 Leave a comment

Well stated:

A recent Dominion Post column attacked British-born Chief Human Rights Commissioner Paul Hunt as not ‘one of us’. It’s a phrase we should all feel uncomfortable with, writes Hunt, wherever we come from.

Not long after I took up office as Chief Human Rights Commissioner, a newspaper columnist complained that I am not “one of us”.

This charge raises important questions.

In super-diverse Aotearoa New Zealand with its more than 200 ethnicities and 160 spoken languages, who is “us”?

And who defines “us”?

However defined, it is dangerous to view society as some people who are ‘us’ and, by implication, ‘others’ who are separate and alien.

This vision of society is inconsistent with equality, non-discrimination, respect for diversity and a multiculturalism which is grounded in Te Tiriti o Waitangi. It undermines inclusion and promotes exclusion.

‘Others’ tend to include new immigrants, residents and citizens. They are often ethnic and religious minorities. They may also include tangata whenua and Pacific peoples. There are exceptions, but these ‘others’ consistently fall behind in a range of socio-economic outcomes. Some of them are regularly subjected to discrimination and abuse. Among them, there are additional layers of disadvantage for women, disabled people and sexual minorities. The two most common areas of complaint received by the Human Rights Commission are race-related and disability discrimination. Many discriminatory incidents are unreported.

‘Othering’ me – that is, complaining that I am not “one of us” – is of no consequence because I enjoy numerous advantages, such as ethnicity and gender. But ‘othering’ disadvantaged individuals and communities is dangerous because it reinforces their vulnerability, makes them feel unsafe, and exposes them to more abuse.

Moreover, ‘othering’ can lead to demonising.

And demonising can lead to the mass murder of peaceful people at prayer.

For the record, I married a New Zealander over 30 years ago. We settled in Hamilton in 1992. Our son was born in Hamilton. I completed a degree at Waikato University and lectured at the university for eight years. Our children were schooled in Hamilton. I have been a New Zealand citizen for decades.

In 2000, the government commissioned me and three colleagues to undertake a review of New Zealand’s human rights institutions. In 1998, the National-led government nominated me to an independent UN human rights position. In 2002, the Labour-led government supported my candidacy for a similar position. Both posts were voluntary.

Lured back to Europe by an employment opportunity in 2000, I have visited New Zealand every year, for weeks or months, to write, give talks and spend time with whanau. Last year, my wife and I relocated back to New Zealand.

Does all this make me “one of us”? It should not be necessary to ask.

But if someone declares I am not “one of us” it means that, in their worldview, many thousands of New Zealand immigrants, residents and citizens are also not “one of us”.

‘Othering’ on that scale diminishes and threatens our multiculturalism.

As someone who is new to the Chief Commissioner role, I have taken as many opportunities as possible to listen. I’ve heard that poverty is a recurrent concern; it’s also a crucial human rights issue.

I want to hear from those with lived experience of poverty and widening social and economic inequalities. So, colleagues and I visited the Corstorphine Community Hub in Dunedin, Tuwharetoa Health, Education & Social Services in Kawerau, and Habitat for Humanity in Rotorua.

During the Rotorua visit, we met a widow whose children suffered from serious health issues made worse by their damp cold home. (She now owns a new home thanks to Habitat for Humanity and her own toil and investment.) In Kawerau, we met a reformed dad who is not allowed to see his children and is made to feel like a criminal when he deals with the authorities. We also learnt about a flax-roots initiative which has dramatically reduced the suicide rate in the community.

The overall impression was of proud individuals and communities, precarious and raw, living on the edge.

Our ‘listening visits’, as well as other consultations, will enrich the planning process for the Human Rights Commission’s future work. In this process, we are asking difficult questions like: how can we convey that human rights are based on shared values like fairness, decency, dignity and equality?

How can we make human rights relevant to the practical realities of everyday lives throughout New Zealand?

How do we convey to national and local officials that human rights can make a practical contribution towards the effective delivery of policies which aim to enhance wellbeing?

Consistent with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, as well as the Convention on the Rights of the Child, the commission will not only focus on vital civil and political rights such as freedom of expression, but also on important social rights, such as the rights to a decent home and accessible education. The commission has tried this before and we need to build on those foundations. Should we also work on the right to a healthy environment?

Our overarching question is this: how do we refresh human rights for modern times?

No ‘othering’, no barriers

Across all my human rights work, I have always sought to be non-party political and non-sectarian. This might be the influence of Quakerism and its call for dialogue and peaceful reconciliation. In the 1980s, I worked for Quaker Peace and Service on its Israel/Palestine programme, and Quakerism continues to inform my thinking.

Later I worked for a London-based civil liberties organisation which had an all-party parliamentary group encompassing libertarians and social democrats.

In Belfast, long before the Good Friday Agreement, I would discuss prisoners’ rights with unionist organisations in the morning, then walk across the city, and discuss prisoners’ rights with nationalist organisations in the afternoon, to the bemusement of my Irish friends.

Perhaps this explains why I am alert to ‘othering’.

Talking about some people as being “one of us”, and implying that ‘others’ are alien, places a barrier between communities.

What is needed is support, dialogue, friendship, respect, acceptance of diversity and recognition of human rights for everyone.

The ‘other’ road is fraught with danger.

Source: The dangers of ‘one of us’: The Chief Human Rights Commissioner on othering

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British Culture Wouldn’t Exist Without Multiculturalism

2018/09/19 Leave a comment

On the complexities of identities and the sticking to tired tropes regarding immigration in the UK:

As a born and bred product of British multiculturalism, it’s hard for me to comprehend the ongoing demonisation of immigrants. Growing up in a mixed-race family was getting a new pencil case before the start of term; plastering Spice Girls posters on my wall; eating fish and chips on a Friday in the school canteen; Sundays spent wrapped in the love of my nana’s chicken curries, gulab jaman and jalebis.

My childhood feels typically British because multiculturalism is my norm – something that, in my lifetime, has been the bedrock of British culture and, historically, a source of great pride. Yet, in this post-Brexit climate, it’s hard not to notice the mood shifting.

At a time when global anti-immigrant sentiment is reaching fever pitch, a study claiming that four in 10 people believe multiculturalism has undermined British culture feels like sticking the knife in. It’s just another reminder to the UK’s migrant or minority ethnic communities that they will never be British enough.

It’s baffling to me that a sizeable minority of people could feel that British culture is being stifled by multiculturalism. Are we talking about the same tea-drinking culture that includes chicken tikka masala as a national dish and holds St George as its patron saint?

Researchers found negative opinions around Islam were often mentioned during panel discussions, with participants regularly citing the Rotherham and Rochdale sexual abuse scandals involving Asian men and white British girls. Those in rural areas also tended to have less positive views about immigration, according to the study.

It’s hard not to feel this is just the same lazy racism of the sort my family weathered in the 50s, 60s, 70s – and every decade since. It seems odd that Islam and Asian immigration are now automatically associated with the Rotherham and Rochdale scandals, yet I didn’t see white men being vilified following decades of child abuse scandals in the Catholic Church.

To those who don’t support multiculturalism, I’d love to ask: do you know any immigrant families? Have you taken the time to understand who they are or their stories? Or do you just hate people who don’t look like you? People are scared of what they don’t know but surely it’s time we stopped indulging ignorance. It’s hurtful and alienating to the millions of us whose legitimacy is placed second to the views of the xenophobic.

This constant othering of migrants, first-generation or otherwise, is tiring. I know immigration – and it’s not something to fear. My Muslim grandfather grew up in India, the son of an army officer supporting the British during World War II. He idolised British customs and since his arrival to the UK in the 50s has dedicated his life to working as a doctor for the NHS. He wears tweed and eats marmalade on toast – but he also attends his local mosque and eats lime pickle. Surely he’s as British as they come? And isn’t that exciting?

We have to stop conflating immigration with low-skilled workers and segregation of communities – it is bigoted and unrepresentative. No two immigrant families are the same, every family has their story. It’s frustrating to see the same tired tropes of British immigrants wheeled out with clockwork regularity – and the framing of this study feels particularly unhelpful.

It feels sad remembering how many times I tried to assimilate as a child and downplay my ethnicity – “no, but my mum was born here”, “we’re not really Indian Indian”, “we don’t eat Indian food that much” – trying to preempt the ignorant questioning that would follow as soon as I mentioned my heritage. But as an adult, I feel fiercely unapologetic, and increasingly unwilling to be an educator to those who need convincing why immigration is good.

The researchers did find a majority (59%) of those surveyed felt diversity brought by immigration had enriched British culture and 63% felt migrant workers supported the economy and brought valuable skills to the UK, so clearly all is not lost. These are the stats we need to be focusing on – the resounding consensus that multiculturalism is important and continues to make a valuable contribution to our society.

Instead of continuing this tired debate, we should be turning our attention to what it means to be British today, in all its richness and difference, and celebrating what makes our culture so unique. That’s where representation in media and popular culture becomes so important, along with social mobility in education and employment. It’s time the multiculturalism debate is taken off the table, because it’s already here. Multiculturalism has happened – deal with it.

Source: British Culture Wouldn’t Exist Without Multiculturalism

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