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States of Becoming: Is there a "here" here and a "there" there?Some reflections on home, away, displacement and identityPiaras Mac Éinrí 1 Migration studies - a rag-tag field.Migration Studies is not a unified field of study. Drawing from a range of disparate disciplines, it has traditionally been dominated by historians, sociologists, geographers and demographers. Most were probably interested in aggregate phenomena, studied from spatially distinct perspectives, rather than in the specificities and fluidities of the individual migrant experience. The voices of real migrants were probably most often heard in creative form. In this part of Ireland, Dialann Deoraí (The Diary of an Exile) and Rotha Mór an tSaoil (The Great Wheel of Life) were staple school fare for many years, and most people have a store of emigrant songs, from Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore to Fairy Tale of New York. Of late, historians have begun to use new approaches, such as the discourse analysis used to such effect by David Fitzpatrick in his groundbreaking Oceans of Consolation. The overall impression, however, is one of a ragged field of study, not an intellectually unified discipline. This has not prevented the emergence of dominant paradigms within the field, as I shall show. The tendency for all paradigms to outlive their usefulness, and the specific historical circumstances which produced them in the first place, may by now be helping to obscure fundamental underlying changes. 2 The Melting Pot - an immigration-centred view of migrationBecause migration has affected receiving societies in terms of the presence of the "other", there has naturally tended to be greater emphasis in the literature on issues of immigration, assimilation, multiculturalism, and related issues. It is no surprise to learn that the USA was the first place to study migration from this perspective in a serious and sustained way, with Park, Burgess and the Chicago School in the 1920s. It is probably fair to say that such studies were ideologically framed the underlying assumption was the integration, through essentially assimilationist processes, of the immigrant, so that s/he became a fully functioning member of a supposedly equal-opportunity society. One should acknowledge the humanitarian aspects of this approach. Well before Park's time, many Americans saw late-19th century Europe as despotic and overcrowded. The New York-born poet Emma Lazarus became an ardent Zionist in the 1880s following anti-Jewish pogroms in tsarist Russia. Her Songs of a Semite (1882) is probably little read now, but there can be few in the English-speaking world who do not recognise this section of an 1883 sonnet, later inscribed on the Statue of Liberty, Give me your tired, your poor, In literature, Mary Antin's The Promised Land and Israel Zangwill's The Melting Pot demonstrated the power of this myth. Indeed, Zangwill's 1908 play is usually identified as the source of the term "melting-pot". Even if we are nowadays critical of the blindness of an immigrant nation to native Americans, and of the discrimination systematically practised against Asians (e.g. the 1880s Chinese Exclusion Acts as well as many kinds of practical bigotry) and Americans of colour, especially the Afro-American community, the dominant ethos was thought to be one of supposed egalitarian assimilation. Of course, a knowledge of the English language did become a sine qua non (even if, in 1900, there are reputed to have been 800 German-language newspapers and periodicals in the USA), and the values of WASP Americans became the norms which all others were expected to emulate. This melting-pot theory was the most characteristic of American attitudes at that time and for a good part of the twentieth century - the term "hyphenated American" was used then as a form of abuse. Indeed, the melting-pot idea has not yet disappeared entirely. It was optimistic and forward-looking. However, it was also expected that the immigrant would do all of the adjusting. In a society which applied innate, usually unspoken, assumptions about norms of behaviour, the successful immigrants were those who learned those rules and applied them to their own lives. The goal was to become typical, not different. This was an aim most usually to be achieved through one's children, whose success became emblematic of the immigrant's ability to adjust to the new society. Park and his colleagues did admit that there were differential patterns of assimilation and that, in particular, the speed of integration could vary considerably. However, over time, it became evident that assimilation, even with a degree of differentiation in speed and patterns of assimilation, was not as automatic as the early apostles of integration had thought. The almost intractable difficulties caused by the construction of in-groups and out-groups in society along race- and colour-specific lines, with its attendant problems of racism, discrimination and exclusion, became increasingly evident after the failure of Black Americans to gain access to an egalitarian civil society in the 1960s. The Promised Land was not open to all The attitudes of the time to processes of assimilation probably took little account of the inestimable psychological and cultural losses which immigrants experienced in their efforts to fit in. Nowadays migration specialists are familiar with the "generational jump" whereby the children of immigrants try to forget, or deny, the culture of their parents, only to find that their own children want to re-connect with it. Perhaps more significantly in retrospect, it was not recognised that the very plasticity which the immigrant was expected to show in adapting his/her identity to the new society carried within it the seeds of a new process of identity construction, quite different from that which was thought to characterise all previous societies. Identity was no longer essence but choice; place of origin might, or might not, play little part in it. Although this was not a completely new idea (Revolutionary France allowed foreigners who supported the ideals of the Revolution to become French through choice) it was still a quintessentially modern, and later postmodern, idea. 3 Changing perspectives on immigrationThe early approaches have been followed, especially since the 1960s onwards, by a range of new and usually more critical perspectives. Moynihan and Glazer's radical (for the time) critique Beyond the Melting Pot, first published in 1963, showed definitively that New York was no melting-pot and that considerable degrees of ethnic separatism could be maintained, often across generations, through highly spatialised patterns of individual and communal social interaction. Fredrik Barth's Ethnic Groups and Boundaries demonstrated that, contrary to expectations, ethnicity did not "disappear" as different communities got closer to each other. On the contrary, Barth contended that ethnic boundaries were in fact a constitutive element in identity and, in certain circumstances, could be highly stable. The melting-pot gave way in time to terms like "mosaic" suggesting a degree of spatial maintenance of separate ethnic identity, often across generations - or "tossed salad" suggesting that some traits of group identity were kept but others coalesced with a shared common culture. In the 1970s the doctrine of assimilationism began in itself to be questioned. Was it to be taken for granted that the host-immigrant relationship (previously seen in highly normative terms) was inevitably an unequal one and that the terms of entry to society necessarily involved the Other becoming as like the "Self" as possible, through the surrender of her/his identity? 4 European approaches to migrationEuropean approaches to migration, based on the notion that the natural order consisted of the homogeneous ethnic nation, living within its own borders, were necessarily different. An additional complication was that post-war changes in migration patterns and the painful processes of decolonisation led to a whole new emphasis on questions of race and ethnic relations. This did not necessarily happen because of a perceived need for a more positive or tolerant attitude. There were those who held that while assimilation was a normal and desirable goal for white immigrants in the USA, the same could not hold true in the case of colonial or ex-colonial immigrants, often non-white, into European countries. Indeed, there had probably always been an unspoken assumption that migration was about "us" (white, civilised, Europeans) bringing the benefits of "our" civilisation to "them" (black, inferior, ill-educated, incapable of ruling themselves). After all, for most of the 19th and 20th century Europe experienced net out-migration - this was the norm. What had not been anticipated by the apostles of empire and of the European mission civilisatrice was that "they" might ever arrive in large numbers at the gates. This is exactly what did happen in the 1950s. Reaction was mixed, becoming increasingly negative during the 1960s. In Britain, a certain type of reaction is illustrated by Enoch Powell's famous 1968 Birmingham speech. Often referred to as the "rivers of blood" speech, the extended passage is less frequently quoted: Those whom the gods wish to destroy they first make mad. We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependents who are for the most part the material of the future growth of the immigrant-descended population. It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiancés whom they have never seen... As I look ahead I am filled with foreboding. Like the Roman, I seem to see the 'river Tiber foaming with much blood'. That tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic, but which there is interwoven with the history and existence of the States itself, is coming upon us here by our own volition and our own neglect. Powell, recently deceased, was a fine classical scholar (and had worked as a Professor of Greek before entering politics) and a master stylist of the English language. Perhaps it is just as well that his would-be emulators in Ireland lack his elegance of rhetoric and expression. 5 MulticulturalismFrom the late 1960s on, a number of countries, notably Canada and Australia, began to experiment with new models based on variations of multiculturalism - the notion that cultures were all relatively of equal value and that policy should endeavour to find ways to validate the cultural values of all within society rather than by privileging the values of the dominant group. In the Australian case, this was a dramatic departure from the "White Australia" policy which had characterised Australian immigration until the early 1960s. These models also influenced US and British practice. In a more general sense we may see them as part of a broader movement tending to validate difference over perceived sameness; other examples include the feminist movement and the search for gay and lesbian rights. An interesting feature of academic discourse from this time onwards is the increasing use of spatial and even frankly geographical methaphors, with concepts like "sites of resistance" (i.e. opposition to hegemonic mainstream identities) and the notion that identity was constructed in a spatial context. In other parts of Europe the response to decolonisation and to greater migration varied. France continued to a large extent to insist that assimilation was non-discriminatory (your colour allegedly did not matter as long as you became "culturally" French), while Germany got around the problem simply by declaring that it was not a country of immigration in the first place, a type of mantra of denial which Chancellor Kohl was still repeating well into the 1990s. The term gastarbeiter sums this attitude of denial up very well you are a guest (you should return to where you came from when the time comes) and you are a worker, not a person (so we dont have to deal with your humanity, only your economic role in society). At present the debate is still unfinished. European countries cling to a place-based and often exclusive notion of identity, community and culture, which, sometimes intentionally and sometimes by less deliberate omission (but does that really excuse Polish Catholic anti-Semitism?), excludes those who do not belong to the mainstream nation-state. In subtle and not-so-subtle ways, there is a tendency to privilege those who were "born into" a place, and its culture, over those "blow-ins" who came from somewhere else. There is a degree of admiration for the USA model - (one can hardly be totally negative about a country which has accepted so many Europeans) - but there is little desire to copy it. There is an irony here. Europeans often affect to criticise the perceived racism of US society, but in significant respects US society has made efforts to address the issues and the US is not, in a general sense, more racist - quite the contrary - than European countries. In Ireland, which has seen itself traditionally as a country of emigration, the debate about migration and multiculturalism has hardly begun. Even if - and it is a big if - we are willing to admit a small number of immigrants on sufferance, we are avoiding the fundamental questions which the fully valid presence of the "other" within Irish society would necessarily pose for our own identity construction. Is there a way of "becoming" Irish, or is it a genetic or place-specific inheritance? Most Irish people would probably deny any intention to exclude, yet that is the logic of our traditional position. 6 EmigrationTaking Ireland as an example of a country of emigration, matters became even more complicated in one further important respect, compared with countries of immigration. This is because emigration translates in social terms as absence, rather than presence. To a large extent this has meant that certain questions most relevant to receiving societies the whole field of community and national identity formation were seen in a radically different light, or perhaps avoided entirely. To put it another way, society, without substantial immigration, could continue to be constructed as monolithic. In such a context, emigration was viewed ambiguously. With a strong family-centred ideology on one hand, we had to cope, on the other, with the reality that we were rearing children for export. This was a classic double bind. We dealt with it largely by denial, accompanied by a number of other coping strategies, such as a certain resentment of those who had emigrated (and even more of those who returned). In general, Irish responses are probably best characterised as an attitude of fatalism and an ideology of victim-hood, coupled with total official inaction over many decades. A sentimental attitude towards family, exile and the "world-wide Irish family" enabled us to ignore the realities. We took refuge in an idealising vision of ourselves, rooted in a place which was by definition unchanging the past. Above all, we denied the class-based reality of involuntary migration - the choices open to the disadvantaged were and are simply more limited, or non-existent, compared to those open to the rich. In short, the problems posed by the need to deal with absence of the "self" can be even greater than those caused by the presence of the "other". In both cases, a form of denial is a typical response. 7 The 1970s: World Systems and related approachesSince the 1970s there has been a discernible shift in the focus of work on this area, with a move away from the discrete study of emigration and immigration as separate phenomena to a focus on the underlying global processes. Migration is seen as an archetypal form of social movement, replacing the notion that static societies are the norm and migrants the exception, or even the abnormal. At the macro or aggregate level, migration is increasingly seen as a outcome of underlying economic processes of globalisation. World Systems Theory, associated with Wallerstein in the 1970s, constructed the migrant as the largely unwilling and dis-empowered victim of these global processes, with the emergence of spaces where economic power was concentrated and where the peripheralisation of many social groups was a by-product of these processes. Thus, attempts have been made to explain Irish emigration to the UK in terms of the continuing working-out of these processes of economic differentiation. While this model has proved very helpful in some respects, it can also be argued that it is over-deterministic and imposes a condition of permanent victim-hood on the part of whole categories of persons who are seen as having no agency. 8 The migrant as (dis) empowered subjectParallel to the shift in emphasis away from terms such as push/pull, core/periphery, dominant subject/unequal other etc. which have been typical of traditional approaches to migration, there is a more fundamental shift in perspective. Traditional definitions and categories, based on fixed assumptions about place, space, community and individual identity, are themselves coming to be questioned. Migration is no longer a question of the migrant leaving here, and thus becoming an exile, and going there and thus becoming an immigrant, necessarily seen as exotic or other in the receiving society. We now are seen to live in a more fluid universe in which the condition or state of migration itself is receiving attention the word migrancy is increasingly used. Moreover, there is a sense in which the identity of the migrant is seen as central and is no longer seen as a fixed category but as a process of becoming. As for the "here" and the "there" it has to be recognised that, whether for good or ill, the place-specific aspects of identity have been greatly weakened by various processes of social, economic and cultural mobility. Fintan O'Toole, a columnist with the Irish Times, has suggested on more than one occasion that the would-be emigrant has already been in America, through the all-pervasive media, before visiting in the flesh. Having said that, there is a need, faced with the anomie of rapid change, to re-valorise place and identity, as long as we can find ways of doing it which are not patriarchal and do not exclude. What is particularly interesting about the shift outlined above is that it moves the migrant from the margin to the centre of a particularly modern or more correctly, postmodern dilemma: how are individual and group identities constructed and maintained in the face of relentless and ever faster change? In that sense the migrant is already dealing with an issue which faces all of us. One response is that instead of stressing "authentic" categories of identity (being born in a particular place or "born into" a particular and fixed culture) we now speak of syncretic and/or hybrid identities. 9 La nostalgie n'est pas ce qu'elle était ("Nostalgia isn't what it used to be")Change in itself, as well as the increased rate of change, will probably bring on a major outbreak of nostalgia in the next few years. In part, this will be a result of the "millennium fever" anyway, much as happened one thousand years ago. In part it is likely to be a reaction to the popular perception that the rate of current change is too rapid. Part of this nostalgia can be expressed as a desire to return to old imagined certainties - and I stress the word imagined. In áine Ní Chonaill's Immigration Control Platform and its rather repulsive doctrines there can be heard a cry of pain - a sense of loss because the imagined homogeneity and communal contentment of the past cannot be restored. I say imagined, because exclusion was in fact endemic in rural Ireland - women without dowries, landless labourers, travellers, anyone different. One should not deny the real sense of loss behind some of these feelings of nostalgia. Twentieth century fascist movements (e.g. the 1950s Poujadistes in France or a large part of the Front National today) have traditionally been supported by those who saw themselves as "losers" in the race to modernise. The politics of Celtic Tiger Ireland is in danger of constructing new categories of exclusion (small farmers; the urban poor; conservative Catholics): we cannot be surprised if some react to their exclusion in illiberal ways. The 18th century enlightenment philosopher Rousseau had the following to say about place: When he first opens his eyes, the infant ought to see the fatherland, and up to the day of his death he ought never to see anything else. Every true republican had drunk in love of country, that is to say love of law and liberty, along with his mother's milk. This life is his whole existence: he sees nothing but the fatherland, he lives for it alone; when he is solitary, he is nothing; whne he has ceased to have a fatherland, he no longer exists; and if he is not dead, he is worse than dead. This may seem a bit extreme to 20th century readers! However, a passage from the Dutch novelist Cees Noteboom illustrates in a more contemporary idiom the power of a nostalgic representation of identity and the specificity of an emotional attachment to place: I read my paper and look at the palm trees all tied up for the winter and the empty Sunday morning pavement and wish that my entire life were a provincial Spanish Sunday morning, and I the sort of man who belonged there. I think it is possible to read in this sentence an elegaic and real expression of loss. The apostles of modernisation in all its forms are not always sensitive to this loss. As I have tried to suggest, there were in fact no truly homogenous societies. Traditional society was often organised on hierarchical lines which in reality excluded many. Nowadays, with the shrinkage of space and the time required to cross it, the globalisation of information and the erosion of nation-state sovereignty through new supra-national entities like the EU, there are no isolated communities any more. In that sense, racism and xenophobia are not merely to do with a belief in the superiority of ones own group, as áine Ní Chonaill seems to think. A refusal to countenance the presence of the other is, in itself, a form of racism and/or xenophobia. 10 Fear of the StrangerMany of our difficulties with multiculturalism stem from the fear of the stranger. There is a significant body of sociological and other thinking about the Stranger, probably starting with Simmel in the early part of this century. Critic and psychoanalyst Julia Kristéva discusses our fears in Étrangers à Nous-Mêmes and puts forward interesting reasons. The presence of the stranger has the effect of relativising our cultural values and thus rendering them less secure. Moreover, she cites our moral awe (and sense of disturbance) before the act of the other in coming to our society if we were faced with such a huge personal choice as coming to a completely alien society, could we do it? Kristéva also suggests that in part, our fear of the Other is the fear of the "Other in the Self", much as homophobia is sometimes said to be a kind of repressed anxiety about ones own sexual identity. One might add that nowadays that the fear of the Other is greatly complicated by the fact that the Other is now within, not just at a distance. Jews were traditionally seen as suspect, as the only significant "exotic" outgroup within European society, leading to very common forms of anti-Semitism in practically all European countries. Nowadays, there are many other such outgroups as well. There is an additional problem which the place-based notion of identity fails to address what happens to our own migrants once they are displaced? Outside of place, as Rousseau seems to suggest, do they lose their identity? Traditionally we expected them to remain in some kind of eternal suspension in the other society, remaining untainted by it in any way and bonding with us via Radio Éireann from Athlone or shortwave radio to listen to Mícheál O Hehir every all-Ireland day. Subliminally, we were probably afraid that they might "go over" and become the other. My own uncle, who emigrated in 1947 from rural Roscommon, never took out American citizenship. He died relatively poor there, after forty years, in part because, in his refusal to "become" American, he missed out on a range of social security benefits to which he would otherwise have been entitled. Recent studies have emphasised the high rates of schizophrenia and mental depression among the Irish in Britain. This was probably due in part to experiences of racism and discrimination but we do not find the same rates among other communities who experienced even greater exclusion. Could it be that the impossible position of not being able to become British, but being excluded from "Irishness" of a meaningful kind, created such a stressful condition that it might explain these phenomena? In sum, if we exclude others (both "our" others, who go elsewhere and "other" others, who come here) we deny a central and formative element in human experience and identity. 11 Where is home?Displacement and dislocation, with the resulting sense of psychological disorientation, are basic characteristics of the migrant experience. Eva Hoffmann in her book Lost in Translation speaks of her anxiety about identity when she voices her thoughts after having received some advice about becoming Canadian (she was born Polish): This is a society in which you are who you think you are. Nobody gives you your identity here, you have to reinvent yourself every day. He is right I suspect, but I cant figure out how this is done. You just say what you are and everyone believes you? But how do I choose from identity options available all around me? Hoffman's concern is understandable, but in reality we are not free simply to put on identities like so many new clothes. Madan Sarup comes closer to the problem in evoking some of the issues associated with the word home: I want to suggest that the concept of home seems to be tied up in some way with the notion of identity the story we tell of ourselves and which is also the story others tell of us. Feminist scholar Caren Kaplan opens her book Questions of Travel with a quotation from the poet, Elizabeth Bishop: Continent, city, country, society: and goes on to comment For many of us there is no possibility of staying at home in the conventional sense - that is, the world has changed to the point that those domestic, national or marked spaces no longer exist. So I cannot respond to Bishops more modernist question by "staying put" or fixing my location or promising not to leave my national borders. There is not necessarily a preoriginary space in which to stay after modern imperialist expansion. But identities cling to us, or even produce us, nonetheless. Many of us have locations in the plural. Thus, rather than assuming that well never return to these homes again, rather than celebrating the rootless traveller of Bishops text, I suggest that the fragments and multiplicities of identity in postmodernity can be marked and historically situated. As Iain Chambers argues, historicizing displacement leads us away from nostalgic dreams of "going home" to a mythic, metaphysical location and into the realm of theorizing a way of "being at home" that accounts for "the myths we know to be myths yet continue to cling to, cherish and dream" alongside "other stories, other fragments of memory and traces of time". In this view of identity and place, Caplan does not simply opt for the notion of modern rootlessness. As she says, identities cling to us, or even produce us, even though our "pre-originary space" may have disappeared. Place and space do matter in this perspective, just as myth does, even though we know the myths are myths. The important point has less to do with our ability to return to some idealised past - what she calls a nostalgic dream of "going home" - and more to do with our ability to historicise ourselves and our own various, multiple senses of identity - what she calls a way of "being at home". In a sense, it is the act of historicisation, the remembering, the performance, that constitutes the identity. We may make our own choices, but the circumstances are not entirely of our own choosing. There are givens over which we have no control, other than in our ability to incorporate them, and their multiple meanings, into our own landscapes of subjectivity. The self is thus constituted by an ongoing process of becoming, and an ongoing process of interaction. We cannot ignore boundaries and formative factors The past, our family, place and culture are relevant and constitutive of identity but there is not and cannot be closure except in the grave. 12 Towards strategies of identity and becomingGlobalisation and localisation are two sides of the same coin, with migrants being caught in the middle. The danger is that a "flattening" of identity and culture, a kind of off-the-shelf coca-cola identity, on the one hand, will lead to a reaction of atavism and a falling back on the simplistic reassurances of narrowly defined ethnic identity with its attendant processes of exclusion, on the other. The other route, as suggested above, is through the ongoing renegotiation and reappropriation of identity and the development of new spaces of empowerment. This will not be easy, nor is everyone equal in their access to space, and power, in which to negotiate these processes. As Foucault points out A whole history remains to be written of spaces which would at the same time be the history of powers (both of these terms in the plural) from the great strategies of geopolitics to the little tactics of the habitat. However limited one's options may be, there would seem to be no other productive way. This is a point which those who follow a world systems or neo-marxist perspective might bear in mind. Even if they are right in their analysis of the origins of dislocation and displacement, we must still, as individuals and members of communities of one kind or another, find strategies for constructing and performing our identities, not through denying place, or family, or injustice, but by re-appropriating our own fragmented pasts in all their complexity. 13 Dealing with othernessThere remains the question of how to deal with otherness. I would like to conclude this short article with a couple of exhortations:
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