The Refugee Crisis and Cultural Citizenship
Watching the debates, I am
struck most keenly by the absence of the voices of refugees themselves: both
the absence of their stories, their reasons for leaving their homes, what they
have left behind and what it may have cost them; as well as the absence of their
voices in getting to have a say in policy or, at least in these debates, in the
discourse surrounding the refugee “crisis” or “problem.”
I also notice there is only one
person who is visibly not white – the black man in the second debate who is an
“expert on migration” – and I wonder simultaneously (a) how race (not to
mention religion) plays into the reception of the refugees and (b) whether I am
exporting US frameworks of race onto Europe and West Asia.
I notice the debates shift
continually between Germany’s role and that of Europe (the EU) in general. Disagreement between different European
countries: some countries are more welcoming than others, some building walls
of barbed wire, some wanting to filter according to religion, an urgent need
for an agreement and yet perpetual conflict. A recognition that some countries have more resources than
others. A desire to throw money at
the situation and assume that will fix things. From my limited understanding, this disagreement seems
typical of the challenges of postnationalism and the EU. It also reminds me, curiously, of
ensemble or collaborative process, and brings into relief whether different
perspectives and needs can be effectively held together, whether working
together across difference makes for a stronger or more watered down
politics. I am a little shocked
when the last commentator says that he is waiting for a new US president to be
elected so the EU can follow suit.
I am particularly interested in
how people articulate Germany’s reception of refugees to its particular
history: articulated in one debate as a sort of reparations – or perhaps more
accurately a wish to learn from an ugly historical past and to do better; to
Germany’s own split into East and West Germany; to a history of blood
citizenship, which I am assuming may have something to do with the fact that
Germany has no immigration policy.
There is a lot of talk about “dark” and “bright” (that metaphorical use of
color is pretty racist) sides of Germany.
I’m fascinated by how Angela
Merkel has become a central protagonist around this story and her own
background as a refugee from East Germany. A most un-romantic, plodding “heroine.” How does her own lived experience
inflect her position on this crisis? What more could I learn about the dynamics of the
relationship of East and West Germany that could shed interesting light,
knowing that West Germany dominates US Americans’ impressions of Germany? Time Magazine has named Merkel person
of the year, and while I am dubious about US mainstream media’s celebration of
her, it is fascinating to read about her growing up in a Lutheran seminary and workplace
for mentally disabled adults in the woods.
How do our own histories of migration – both personally and in our
families – inflect our understanding of the refugee crisis?
The lack of rigor with which the debates examine the “root causes”
of migration. The split between
economic refugees and refugees of war – which here in the US would be the
difference between an immigrant and a refugee – sets up a narrative of who
“really needs help” and who is trying to take advantage of a more comfortable
life in the EU, when surely it is much more of a spectrum. What are the dominant narratives of
migration? And how much do they
actually correspond to people’s real stories and experiences? I am reminded that my whole life, I
bought into the US narrative that my parents came to “make a better life for
themselves” when they in fact were leaving an unstable political regime. And, just to make more connections, how does this dynamic relate at all to the ways in which I have been re-thinking immigrants' complicity in damaging indigenous communities by buying into a settler-colonial state? As we talked about a couple summers ago, is there a way in which indigeneity as a concept does not fit a European context? Or is some sort of translation useful?
Regarding the article, which I note was written in 2002 shortly
after 9/11, I found myself wondering how the idea of “cultural citizenship” can
be usefully distinguished from ideas of “identity” and “belonging.” Is this simply yet another way to pay
lip service to “diversity” and “inclusion”? For me, citizenship automatically declares a direct
relationship to nation-state, to legal status, to rights. I do understand quite deeply that
reimagining what it means to be an American, a Canadian, a German on cultural
terms is central to a just, tolerant, diverse society/nation. For instance, my legal status as an
American is incontrovertible, but I am often not treated like an “American”
because of anti-Asian racism, xenophobia, anti-immigrant sentiment (which of
course ties into actual histories of denying Asian people US citizenship – or
to attempt to tie it into our thinking about anti-blackness and citizenship,
the history of being legally considered 3/5 of a person for African
Americans). Yet for me, using the
term cultural citizenship without a direct tie-in to rights feels overly
theoretical, or more to the point, a missed opportunity to actually make change
in the world. I also noted the
North American focus of the article and wanted to understand how cultural
citizenship might be more salient to a German and European context.
Creative Assignment Possibilities:
(1)
Create a movement study exploring the idea of living perpetually
on a border. Consider how your study
might not be completely abstract but in dialogue with actual border stories.
(2)
Create a study investigating two-facedness: both welcoming and
repelling.
(3)
Do a free-write about your own history of migration (this can
include your family’s). Put this
story into conversation with stories of current refugees. You may use text, movement, video, images, etc.
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