From anti-racism to interracial trust: A cultural perspective
Ien
Ang
I
wish to acknowledge and thank the traditional owners, the Cadigal people
of the Eora nation, for sharing this land with us.
Ladies
and gentlemen, we live in precarious times. All of us who are gathered
here know all too well that racism is, has been and remains a serious
and endemic problem in Australia. The community consultations carried
out by the Acting Race Discrimination Commissioner, Dr. William Jonas,
have clearly indicated that racially discriminatory practices are widespread,
institutional in nature, and practised at all levels of society. The
question is: what can we do about it? What kind of initiatives do we
need to reduce racism from Australian society, if not eliminate it?
In previous contributions to this conference we have heard about some
of the historical, institutional and political dimensions of this problem.
In my talk I will concentrate on its cultural dimensions, especially
as it is related to the so-called 'mainstream' of civil society.
One
of the saddest and most troublesome aftereffects of the Tampa crisis
and the events of September 11 has been the public legitimation of intolerance
in Australia. Can we afford going beyond tolerance, if intolerance
is still too often expressed as a justified response, for example in
the comments of talkshow hosts on the radio airwaves? I am asking this
question here to indicate that we are dealing with a very complex issue
here. I certainly agree that tolerance is not enough. Indigenous people
and migrants don't want to be tolerated, they want respect and equality.
However, especially now that intolerance has gained renewed credibility
in Australian society in the past five years or so, I think we desperately
need to defend the value of tolerance as a necessary precondition for
a harmonious society. This also means, I believe, that it is crucially
important for us to develop initiatives and create circumstances which
enhance the practice of toleration in civil society, as they are minimally
needed as a basis for a more proactive and positive social campaign
for respect, equality and justice for all.
Of
course, this is an enormous, multifaceted task, and in this talk I can't
possibly address it comprehensively. Here, I wish to emphasise the cultural importance of this enormous task - which is the area of my expertise.
Perhaps the most well-known approach to the struggle against racism
is the legal one: the attempt to combat acts and expressions of racism
by outlawing them. This is indeed a crucially important aspect of the
task. Anti-discrimination and vilification laws are absolutely necessary
to provide official protection to those who are most vulnerable to explicit
racist attacks and other discriminatory practices (for example in the
workplace). However, the legal approach alone, as we all know, is not
enough. Education is often mentioned as another key area of intervention,
and rightly so. Much remains to be done, however, in the development
of appropriate and effective educational strategies in this area. I
am thinking here especially about popular and public pedagogies, aimed
at countering the reactionary trend in public opinion which we have
seen in the past half decade. How should such strategies be designed
and presented? What should be their philosophical basis, and what should
be their aim?
Too
often, antiracist education itself is conceived in a legalistic and
overly rationalistic manner. People are told that racism is 'wrong'
and therefore they should refrain from it. Such an educational model
is based on the assumption that people expressing racist views (for
example Pauline Hanson) are somehow irrational, stupid or misguided,
and that they should simply be helped to see the light. Well, I wish
it were that simple! My contention is that such antiracist programs
are ultimately ineffectual: by pathologising the racist they only make
those targeted feel bad about themselves, feel guilty and ashamed. The
problem is that the politics of blame and accusation involved in such
programs - one thinks for example of Jane Elliott's illustrious brown
eyes/blue eyes workshop which was recently shown on SBS TV - will eventually
only push racist attitudes underground. People know that they are not
allowed to say negative things about Aborigines or migrants, for example,
so they won't do so in public, but they will share them in private -
until someone like Pauline Hanson comes along who gives them permission
to express their discontent. How often do we hear people say, "I'm
not a racist but…" This signals to us that official anti-racist
discourse and legalistic educational programs can produce profoundly
counterproductive effects!
I
suggest that anti-racist education should not be based on a legalistic
approach but on a nuanced cultural understanding of the operation
of racisms (in the plural) in particular social contexts. The main,
long-term goal of anti-racist educational programs should be the gradual
development of a general culture where racial tolerance and respect
for difference have become entrenched as part of the common sense of
the society at large. This is much easier said than done, and I can
only very briefly point to some of the issues concerned. I am particularly
interested in exploring the notion of 'interracial trust' as a key component
in the development of an increased community-wide cultural capacity
to live in a complex, racially, culturally and linguistically diverse
society. I will return to this later.
First,
though, I should say that from a cultural point of view, I cannot be
optimistic about the possibility of eliminating racism altogether.
This is a pessimism of the intellect. It may be the case that some fundamental
form of racism - associated with common attitudes such as ethnocentrism
and intolerance against those who are different - is part and parcel
of human nature, it is deeply embedded in the very culture of human
society. Often these attitudes are the function of plain self-interest,
as well as prejudice, ignorance or misguided parochialism. I doubt that
any us is able to be completely free of racially discriminatory thoughts
or impulses, and I think it is more helpful to admit that this is the
case rather than to deny it. In other words, my starting point is that
none of us should take up the position of blamelessness. We all share
a human capacity to be intolerant, none of us is perfect. What matters
is the creation of a society in which such imperfect human behaviour
is held in check to prevent it from causing harm. That is what a civilised
society is about.
Recognising
this, I believe, is important to help overcome the accusations of political
correctness which is often attached to the politics of anti-racism.
Our efforts to combat racial discrimination may be more effective and
more persuasive - in cultural terms - if we are more modest and
moderate about ourselves and our objectives. Amongst others, this means
- and I may be saying something controversial here - that we should
resist the temptation to see racism and anti-racism, racists and anti-racists,
as absolute opposites. Of course, from a legal point of view it is necessary
to draw a clear line between what constitutes an act of racism and what
does not, otherwise it would not be possible to establish effective
anti-racism laws. However, from a cultural psychological point of view
we must recognise that the situation is much more complex than that.
There is a substantial grey area in which it is very hard to determine
with any certainty exactly what is going on, who is being racist or
not, and so on. The world is not divided simply between perpetrators
and victims of racism. After all, we all know too well, even though
it may be hard to admit, that yesterday's victims may be tomorrows perpetrators!
Furthermore, racism is not a single and homogeneous phenomenon: it varies,
it changes, and it is always uneven, especially in everyday contexts.
Let
me give you two examples to give you a sense of what I mean. The first
is a simple one and it is an experience that many people of culturally
and linguistically diverse backgrounds share. I myself have experienced
it many times. I am talking about the question, "Where are you
from?" which people are often asked by Anglo-celtic Australians.
I know for a fact that many, many people like me get annoyed by this
question, because we feel that it somehow tells us that we are not seen
as really belonging to this country. This is especially offensive to
people of Asian, Lebanese, Greek or whatever descent who were born and
bred in Australia (or even worse, to indigenous Australians, some of
whom also get this question in their face, which is ludicrous of course).
They experience the question 'Where are you from?' as discriminatory,
and perhaps as only a mild version of the much more aggressively racist
statement, "Go home to where you came from!" I have also spoken
with quite a few Anglo-Australians, however, who defend the question
and maintain that they ask it only out of interest. They can't see anything
racist about that. Now, here we have a situation in which the meaning
of a conversation is radically different for both sides. What is going
on then? How should we evaluate this situation? To be sure, I am convinced
that many Anglo Australians are simply not aware of the fact that their
very asking of that question tends to place them in a position of power
and entitlement vis-à-vis others: their belonging to Australia
is unquestioned, that of the others made doubtful. This very presumption
of white privilege is based on a very old, racially exclusionary image
of the Australian nation. But it may be too simplistic and unforgiving
to condemn anyone asking us, 'Where are you from' as simply racist.
It is much more complex that this: the interest and curiosity may be
genuine, perhaps the uneasy beginning of a more open and mutual exchange
and critical dialogue. Or at least, perhaps we can exploit it that way.
The
second example is a much more troublesome and explosive one. Recently,
I was walking into a shopping mall in Parramatta, Western Sydney, when
I saw a young man, about 20 years old, of Anglo appearance who, looking
quite frazzled, was rushing out of the mall while screaming, "You
think I was going to steal something, don't you - you fucking Chinese!"
He was obviously upset and angry at the female shopkeeper, who was indeed
of Chinese background. She said nothing, and the incident passed - the
man walked away. I was of course shocked by his strong words, not least
because I am of Chinese descent myself. But we have to ask the question:
is this man a racist? It is obvious that he has made a very offensive
racially charged comment, and I am pretty sure that it has inflicted
pain and distress on the woman, though she suffered it stoically. But
did he make the comment because he is a racist or did the circumstances
make him utter the comment? We have to be careful here. This is a very
ordinary but complex incident. I surmise that this is what happened:
the Chinese woman owns a small business (it was a store selling bags)
and has to work very hard to make ends meet. When the young Anglo man
came into the shop and had a look around, she became suspicious and
told him to move on. In response, he was frustrated and yelled the racist
comment. The word "Chinese" became the shorthand for his anger:
it was an easy label for him to resort to to give a name to his anger
and frustration. The upshot may be that he would go home and tell his
mates how he hated "those fucking Chinese", and this in turn
may reinforce the interracial hostility that was articulated and expressed
in what was just a small incident. But we can also ask a number of other
questions. Was the Chinese woman right in her suspicion that the man
might be a thief, or was she acting prematurely on some prejudicial
assumption based on the young man's less than respectable appearance
(his hair was uncombed and he wore torn jeans)? Did she discriminate
against him because he was young, male and working-class - the category
of people most often associated with criminal behaviour, irrespective
of race?
What
is clear from this example is how ordinary people deal with volatile
conflicts by resorting to old stereotypes or antipathies. They need
some way of letting off steam, which is a way of coming to terms with
the stressful situations they find themselves in. It makes little sense,
in a situation like this, to simply condemn the Anglo young man for
being a racist, even though his comment had undeniably racist overtones.
To grasp the full complexity of what was going on, however, we need
to place the making of the comment in its context, which was one of
evident social antagonism and mutual suspicion. At the same time, the
Chinese woman may, understandably but perhaps unnecessarily, have offended
the young man because she was afraid that he would steal something.
Who was right or wrong? It's hard to tell, and it is impossible to make
an unambiguous judgement.
Unfortunately,
such indeterminacy is a very common feature of contemporary social life.
This is because society is a very complex cultural system, and increasingly
so as the scale of social organisation increases with processes such
as globalisation and the proliferation of difference and diversity.
In thinking about how we can combat racism in everyday life, we have
to be mindful of this complexity, and this is where I think a sophisticated
cultural approach is needed. 'Culture' is a difficult concept in itself,
but for our purposes here we can define it in anthropological terms,
as the process by which people make sense of themselves and the world
they live in, and construct their identities. Concepts such as race,
ethnicity and religion are only some of the categories through which
this ongoing process of meaning-making and identity construction takes
place: they intersect with class, education, gender, and so on. Moreover,
as we all know, this process does not take place in a level playing
field, because there are dominant meanings and identities (for example,
assumptions of who belongs to 'Australia') which exert power and constrain
the cultural self-construction of those groups who are not part of the
dominant culture. Above all, however, the formation of culture is a
collective social process, we form our identities and make sense of
the world dialogically, through encounters and interactions with others.
I
believe that we live in a time where this process of culture - which
is an essential aspect of civil society, crucially important to the
social well-being and the civic health of the community at large - has
become an increasingly difficult and fraught affair. It is increasingly
difficult for people from all walks of life to develop a secure sense
of who they are and what their place is in the larger scheme of things
in society. Rapid economic and technological change has ensured that
many traditional certainties (of place, for example, or the idea of
job security, or long-term relationships and marriage) are no longer
valid today. The purely instrumental values of economic rationalism
have elevated competition and self-interest as major values to live
by. This has created an ethical void in the cultural centre of our society:
alarmingly, values such as equality and justice are no longer universally
seen as indispensable assets of a good society. In such a context, it
is very hard for people to be sensitive to the moral calls of anti-racism.
I suspect that many people either dismiss such calls as not moral but
moralistic (witness the support for the government's tough and inhumane
anti-refugee stance, for example), or they feel, rightly or wrongly,
that they themselves are having it tough, so why should they express
tolerance towards minorities such as Aborigines and non-English speaking
migrants? (This sense of resentment, of course, was what made Pauline
Hanson so popular amongst rural, regional and suburban communities.)
Racism
today is no longer the same as it was twenty or one hundred years ago.
Indeed, the very gains we have made through the processes of reconciliation
and multiculturalism have also, paradoxically, produced a cultural atmosphere
where there is more resistance to the duty to be tolerant today then
in the 1970s and 80s, when the wind of progressive social change was
blowing in our backs. Today, the struggle is much harder, the situation
much more complex, the future much more uncertain. A social consensus
over what kind of society we would like to live in is much harder to
achieve now; instead we have a profoundly divided, fractious society
governed all too often by suspicion and distrust.
It
is in this precarious socio-cultural context that the value of 'tolerance'
needs to be firmly defended. But beyond that it is absolutely necessary
now to work actively on strategies that can bridge the divisions between
polarised groups and communities across society. The task of bridge-building
- the most important of which is what we now call 'reconciliation' -
has to be taken much more seriously in anti-racist educational strategies.
Many educational philosophies have focused on legislating against racially
biased behaviours and attitudes. But as I have already noted, such strategies
will only reinforce the divisions between groups, say between whites
and non-whites. It also tends to be seen as of benefit only to the non-white
victims of racism, just as multiculturalism has been presented as applicable
only to people of NESB. One of the most important tasks ahead is to
overcome this particularism and to find a universal justification for
the need of tolerance and for respect for difference. This is why an
emphasis on bridge-building is important: conceived appropriately, which
means taking account of all the dimensions of social antagonism involved
(race, gender, class, age, and so on), bridge-building can be a unifying
and empowering cultural process where cultural difference and prevailing
power relations are critically interrogated and through which a shared
sense of civic identity is developed, a shared sense of ownership of
the society as a whole.
For
want of a better term, I am calling this the development of 'interracial
trust'. Interracial trust should not be conflated with the much-maligned
idea of racial 'harmony' (as promoted by the federal government through
its Harmony Day, for example). Establishing trust does not mean the
erasure of difficult differences and the denial of race privilege; on
the contrary, it can only be achieved through an honest acknowledgement
of it and through a working through of those difficult differences.
Trust is a difficult thing to achieve in a world dominated by mistrust.
It is the 'leap of faith' (in the words of sociologist Anthony Giddens)
needed in overcoming divisions and hostilities, and it is the medium
through which practical reconciliation can emerge. In their preparedness
to engage in this process, indigenous people have given us the gift
of their trust, and it is up to us, non-indigenous Australians, to earn
their trust. At the same time, those of us who are so frequently at
the receiving end of racisms (of whatever background) should be willing
to place trust in the goodwill and best intentions of many white Australians
to work together towards change, however difficult this may be and despite
their many inevitable mistakes and blindnesses. It is that kind of mutual
generosity and ethical care of the other that we need to encourage in
our struggle against racism, to overturn what Kath Gelber yesterday
called the 'hardening of hearts' in Australian public opinion. It won't
be easy, and it will be a long, long struggle, but we must trust that
it is in the benefit of the society as a whole.
