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On Citizenship and Identity

[Note: This article first appeared at The Mark, Canada's daily online forum for news and opinion.]

The big news in the expatriate community is a recent change to the Citizenship Act under which children born to Canadians abroad are only entitled to citizenship if at least one of the parents was born inside Canada. In other words, Canadian citizenship now only passes for one generation outside the country.

The change has its merits and demerits; I’ve explored some of them on my blog. But whatever the merits of the amendment, you can’t change the definition of Canadian citizenship without changing what it means to be Canadian. Or can you?

I’m a Canadian citizen, though I currently live in the United States. But because I was born overseas, any kids I have during my stay in the States won’t be Canadian citizens. Having kids right now is a purely speculative notion (to my mother’s chagrin), but the idea that my hypothetical kids wouldn’t be Canadian has got me thinking about what being Canadian means.

Living in the United States, I think about being Canadian a lot. Maybe it’s just me; maybe it’s an expatriate thing. Either way, living here has undoubtedly increased my sense of Canadian identity. Part of it is linguistic. (I once had to spell out the word “produce” before a midwestern friend could understand what I wanted at the grocery store.) Part is cultural: for all our self-congratulation, Canada is remarkably racially homogenous (at 86% white) compared to the United States (75%). Part is geographic: we complain about the frost in October, but I tell you in all honesty that I miss it. (Not too much.)

Most of all, Canada is where I come from. It’s part of me in a thousand different ways, some obvious, some not, but all contributing to who I am. I want to pass that on. I want to say to my children: your ancestors lived on the land from time immemorial; your ancestors crossed the seas; your ancestors fought one another, and then made their peace; your ancestors confronted a land that cannot be tamed, and learned to live with it (and off it); your ancestors went to war, time and again, to fight for freedom and justice, not always without honest reservation; your ancestors persecuted one another, felt shame, begged forgiveness, and forgave; your ancestors stood tall, lived honest lives, held out a helping hand, said please and thank you. I want to say to my children: you have the spirit of the north inside of you. I want to say to them: you are Canadian.

Can I say that, if my children aren’t citizens? If they never vote, or expect to vote, or pay tax? If they pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America? Can my kids be Canadian, even if they aren’t Canadian citizens?

Why not? Tying Canadian identity to Canadian citizenship reduces Canada to a mere political entity, to a government. But it’s more than that; it’s a nation, with a national history, a national culture, national past-times, national quirks, national shames and national triumphs. Surely there’s more to being Canadian than having a passport. Surely being Canadian is being a product of all of the experiences of all of the Canadians who have come before.

The recent change to the Citizenship Act seems to have been drafted on the assumption that, for many Canadians living abroad, identity and citizenship are the same. That’s probably true: those who don’t identify as Canadian won’t bemoan the loss of citizenship; those who do will take the steps necessary to pass citizenship along. But I suspect there’s a third group: those who want to pass along Canadian identity without passing along citizenship. If I’m right, tightening the citizenship rules might result, somewhat paradoxically, in the growth of a new sort of Canadian diaspora, connected culturally and emotionally to the motherland even while connected politically and socially to countries around the world.

That’s what I’ve been telling myself, anyway: I’m not Canadian because I’m a citizen, I’m just Canadian, and it follows that my kids don’t have to be citizens to be Canadian as well.

But, for all that, I’d still rather they were.

Posted 14 May 2009 § Canada # Tag: , ‡ Comments (6) þ

Why Not Intra-Riding STV?

I’m swamped with work at the moment and haven’t had a chance to do any real (non-work) writing, but yesterday’s BC election–and particularly the rejectiond of a single-transferable vote system of quasi-proportional representation–has me thinking. I must confess to not having followed the BC (or earlier BC and Ontario) PR debates closely with respect to the particular systems proposed. But insofar as Paul Wells is right that one major obstacle to reform was the complicated nature of the proposed system, I have a proposal for an incremental reform that (I believe) satisfies the major concern of the pro-PR crowd while maintaining the most visible element of the status-quo.

The proposal is simply to adopt a single transferable ballot within each riding. Representatives (whether MPs or MPPs or what have you) will still be apportioned according to population within contiguous geographic bounds–i.e. ridings–but each voter within that riding will be able to indicate a second and even third ‘choice’ on their ballot. If no candidate receives a majority of votes within the riding based on first preferences, candidates receiving votes below a certain threshold will be disqualified and ‘their’ ballots recast according to those voters’ second preference. If there is still no majority winner, the process repeats until there is.

Having a single transferable vote system within ridings would–unless my math is wrong–eliminate the main objection to the First Past the Post System, namely its propensity in multi-party democracies to grant majority power to a party winning only a plurality of votes. If a government is formed by the party winning a majority of seats, and if each seat is held by a candidate who has ultimately received a majority of votes (whether first-preference or first-through-third preference), then a majority government will enjoy the electoral support of a majority of voters (assuming ridings are equal or roughly equal in population–and I’d be all for ensuring that this is, and continues to be, the case).

It’s not PR, by any means; but I happen to be one of the neanderthals who things that in a broad and diverse nation, expressions of geographic interest play an important role. In any case, it strikes me as being an incremental improvement that gets us closer to a truly proportional system of representation without scrapping the existing system entirely.

Thoughts?

Posted 13 May 2009 § Canada § Politics # Tag: , , ‡ Comments (1) þ

That’s Not the Final Answer

Jason Kenney:

Mr. Galloway received a preliminary notice of determination by the Canadian Border Services Agency that he might be inadmissible to Canada, I gather based in large part on his public admission that he provided funds to Hamas, a banned illegal terrorist organization, which would seem–on the face of it–to constitute grounds for inadmissibility under Section 34(1)f of the Immigration Refugee Protection Act.

Okay. Here’s my question: what is a preliminary notice of determination by the Canadian Border Security Agency? The Canada Immigration and Refugee Protection Act doesn’t mention preliminary notices. Neither do the regulations promulgated under the act. In fact the phrase “preliminary notice of determination” doesn’t appear on the Immigration Canada website.

So when Minister Kenney says, matter-of-factly, that Galloway “received a preliminary notice of determination by the Canadian Border Services Agency that he might be inadmissible to Canada,” I have to ask: what the heck is that? Neither the statutes nor the regulations provide for a pre-application determination of admissibility. Does the ministry regularly evaluate potential applicants? If so, under what circumstances? Terry Glavin has suggested that Galloway’s parliamentary staff contacted the Canadian High Commission regarding his speaking tour, and that the “preliminary notice” was written in response. That may be so; but is there any other documented instance of a potential applicant receiving a “preliminary notice of determination” in response to such an inquiry?

I should mention again that I don’t think Kenney did anything wrong here; indeed, I think that’s true even if the “preliminary notice” was sent on his instruction. But if that turns out to have been the case, it raises interesting and important questions about a minister’s ability to keep aliens out of Canada. As I argued last month, use of the “preliminary notice” effectively forecloses judicial review of that interesting and important question. In light of the judiciary’s over-reaching in other areas, I can understand why that may be politically desirable. But at the very least it’s worth noting.

Finally, notwithstanding my curiosity, at the end of the day I agree with Kenney on the fundamental point: Galloway was never refused entry to Canada, because he never sought it. Had he sought it, he could have pursued an appeal in the courts. I think the Federal Court erred in allowing his preliminary injunction suit to proceed; but the fact that Galloway didn’t actually seek entry demonstrates, to me, that for Galloway the goal was never access. It was publicity.

Posted 24 April 2009 § Canada § Politics # Tag: , , ‡ Comments (7) þ

Khadr and The Prime Minister

[Note: I have to tread lightly here, so forgive me if this is a little opaque.]

The Federal Court issued an opinion today ordering the Canadian government to request Omar Khadr’s repatriation from Guantanamo Bay. Two thoughts:

First, the opinion’s logic strikes me as flawed. The fundamental holding is that Khadr’s Section 7 Charter rights have been violated because (a) he has been detained at Guantanamo Bay as a ‘child’ and (b) while at Guantanamo Bay he has been subjected to sleep deprivation prior to interrogation. These alleged acts violate Khadr’s Canadian constitutional rights, notwithstanding the fact that they occurred outside of Canada and at the hands of non-Canadians, because Canadian government officials were complicit by virtue of their interrogation of Khadr in these circumstances. The court concludes that the only plausible remedy is an order compelling the government to exercise its heretofore-prerogative power to request Khadr’s return.

I don’t think the court’s logic follows. Khadr’s claim (as I read it) is not that the government must request his repatriation because his Section 7 rights have been violated; his claim is that the government’s failure to request his repatriation itself violates his Section 7 rights. The court blurs the distinction, but it’s an important one. If the rights identified by the court—detention while a child and sleep-deprivation—were violated, they were violated some time in the past. Khadr is no longer a child, and the allegations regarding sleep-deprivation relate to events occurring between 2002 and 2004. Given that these violations occurred in the past, how does repatriation now—when the violations are not alleged to continue—remedy the wrong? That doesn’t mean there should be no remedy at all; if the Canadian government was complicit in the violation of these rights, it seems to me the appropriate remedy is an action for money damages against the Canadian government. But I don’t think it follows that because Khadr’s rights were violated in the past, but are not being violated now, the Constitution requires the Canadian government to demand his return as a means of remedying the past wrong.

The second thought is a more general one. The court explicitly acknowledges that it is infringing on what is traditionally a prerogative power of the executive branch. Indeed, it can cite to no other case—anywhere in the world—that has infringed on this power in this way. The result is to mandate the appropriate exercise of this consular power; that is, the court’s decision erases any discretion the government has traditionally had, and declares that only one possible choice among the universe of policy choices in this circumstance is constitutional.

We seem to be seeing a lot of that these days—attempts to mandate a particular policy choice by determining that alternative policy choices are unconstitutional. But by mandating a particular policy choice, the deciding court places that choice outside the realm of politics, thereby foreclosing debate and discussion. That’s bad for democracy. There are good, honest arguments on both sides of the repatriation debate. Both sides should have the opportunity, and ability, to affect government policy. And if government policy ultimately strays from popular opinion on a particular choice, the people have an opportunity to alter that policy—at the ballot.

There is a great temptation, always, to declare an opposing policy alternative to be so wrong, so immoral, so contrary to received notions of good government, that it cannot be tolerated by law. But when we succumb to that temptation, we constrict the realm of politics, restrict our collective ability to make policy choices, and reduce the involvement of the electorate in the process of governance. That’s not my idea of democracy.

Posted 23 April 2009 § Canada § Politics § Terror # Tag: , , ‡ Comments (0) þ

The Price of Freedom

Warren Kinsella has a (mostly) thoughtful post about the consequences of negotiating with al Qaida to achieve the release of Bob Fowler and Louis Guay. The prime minister was very careful with his words yesterday, acknowledging that negotiation was the best option in the circumstances but maintaining that Canada neither pays ransoms to, nor exchanges prisoners with, any terrorist group. As Warren notes, that leaves open—and points to—the possibility that an intermediary like Mali or Burkina Faso did pay a ransom or exchange prisoners to achieve the diplomats’ release.

I don’t know how to draw the line. I am inclined to the strong position that Canada should never negotiate with these groups, even if that means consigning hostages to their fate. But of course that abstract position bumps up against its human and personal cost, particularly for a DFAIT brat like me. Still, while the nation is grateful today for the safe return of our public servants, I think it’s important to acknowledge the consequence of what has occurred.

Let us assume that some concession was made to this al Qaida franchise to achieve the diplomats’ return. The consequence, inevitably, will be an increase in the incentive to kidnap western officials in the region. The consequence of that will, I predict, be a decrease in the willingness to western officials to travel to the region. It’s important to recall that Fowler and Guay were in Niger on behalf of the United Nations. Insofar as U.N. and western officials become less willing to visit the region, the result will be a decrease in the good that those officials could otherwise do. And the cost of negotiation, therefore, will be the loss of the benefits that our officials could have brought to the region, directly or indirectly, through their active involvement in local humanitarian and good-governance efforts. That cost won’t be borne by you or me; it will be born by the folks in Niger.

Of course, at root this is a result of the kidnapping itself: I suspect you’ll find fewer volunteers at DFAIT willing to go to Niger today that you’d have found a year ago. In other words, the ultimate responsibility for the hindrance of western aid efforts—and the resulting cost to the local population—rests on the shoulders of the terrorists. But if negotiating with terrorists increases, even incrementally, their motivation to take more hostages, then we bear the responsibility for the resulting incremental decrease in the good that is done in the region.

Perhaps that’s a price we’re willing to pay—particularly because we derive the benefit without having to bear the cost. But it’s worth sparing a thought, at least, for those on whom that burden falls.

Posted 23 April 2009 § Canada § Global Affairs § Terror # Tag: ‡ Comments (2) þ

Texas, My Texas

Rick Perry made headlines last week with his seeming endorsement of Texas secession. A Rasmussen poll found that “only” one in five Texans would vote to secede, while fully a third believe the state has the right to leave the Union. Perry’s comments have provoked not a little eye-rolling, as well as commentary from all sides of the political spectrum suggesting that the governor was doing neither himself, nor his state, nor his party any favors.

Let me say at the outset that I don’t favor Texas secession. But having spent a considerable amount of time in Texas, I’m going to be bold and claim an understanding of the State and its culture that I think a lot of people don’t necessarily share, and I’m going to suggest that without an appreciation for the history and culture of the Lone Star State, it’s difficult to understand Gov. Perry’s comments.

Texas is special. I suggested, tongue in cheek below, that it constitutes a distinct society within the Union. As I see it, this uniqueness is the product of two things.

[Continue Reading]

Posted 21 April 2009 § United States # Tag: ‡ Comments (3) þ

Thought For the Day

Texas is a distinct society within the United States.

Posted 17 April 2009 § Politics § United States # Tag: ‡ Comments (2) þ

Brace Yourselves

I can blog from my phone.

And just you wait till the iPhone gets cut-and-paste…

Incidentally, if you’re viewing Maderblog on an iPhone, I’ve set it up to load with an optimized interface rather than the normal web interface. Let me know if you like it.

Posted 16 April 2009 § Admin # Tag: ‡ Comments (0) þ

Thoughts of an Unnatural-Born Citizen

In today’s Post, Rudyard Griffiths outlines an amendment to the Citizenship Act that goes into effect tomorrow. Griffiths writes:

From this point forward, any person born abroad to Canadian parents will be a Canadian only if their father or mother was born in Canada, or if one or more of their parents became a citizen by immigrating to this country.

The amendment was clearly designed to deny citizenship to those who have no real and meaningful attachment to Canada, and for whom citizenship is simply a bundle of benefits to be claimed at an opportune time.

Well, fair enough. It’s hard to argue against the change. But the amendment has some hidden consequences, and—if you’ll forgive the solipsism—I’m going to explore one of them.

[Continue Reading]

Posted 16 April 2009 § Canada # Tag: , ‡ Comments (3) þ

MaderBlog 4.0

I started this blog in the summer of 2002 over on blogspot, a free blogging service that was not yet owned by Google. The Canadian blogosphere was a pretty quiet place back then.

I moved over to maderblog.com at the end of that summer, with my first MovableType blog. Just looking at it makes me nostalgic – those cartoon category tags! In this iteration, MaderBlog developed its first real readership, mostly other college students and a few of the other blog pioneers. I think it’s hard for the contemporary blogger or blog-reader to appreciate just how small the blogosphere was back then.

In the summer of 2003, with the Iraq War in full swing, I upgraded my MovableType installation and adopted the now-infamous banner graphic, based on a picture of British soldiers in combat. Since adopting this third iteration of MaderBlog, I’ve lived in six different cities and received two degrees, not to mention entering the workforce full time. As my life has changed, so has the blog: posting has fallen off, then revived, then fallen off again; the focus has shifted from the war, to American politics, to Canadian politics, to British politics, and back again. Some posts have received national attention; some have been spoken to the wind. But all through it I’ve had a blast.

The most gratifying development over the past seven years has been the development of a real community of readers. Some of you I know personally; some of you I’ve never met. But each of your comments challenges my way of thinking, and has contributed in a real and meaningful way to my opinions on news, and on life, and on how we–as people, as citizens–interact with one another.

Late last year, Movable Type stopped working. While I could continue to post, you–my readers–couldn’t comment. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that, robbed of comments, MaderBlog’s value plummeted–to me, at least. It was time for a change.

I introduce MaderBlog 4.0. There will be glitches; the layout could be better. But with WordPress, I have much more robust back-end tools to create a more dynamic blog. You, the readers, are a big part of that, as you always have been. I welcome your suggestions for ways to increase the communal element of the blog, and I’ll be experimenting with some plugins designed to do just that.

The key to any blog, of course, is content. For nearly two years, I’ve been unable to blog about a huge swath of topics that were once MaderBlog’s bread and butter. The restrictions will be lifted over the summer, for reasons I’ll explain then; and when they are, I’ll have a lot more time to blog–at least for a while. In the meantime, I have a few side-projects going that will hopefully result in more content here.

This move to WordPress is a big step, and I hope that it will result in a better MaderBlog in every which way. Let me know what you think. I promise: the comments work.

Posted 15 April 2009 § Admin # Tag: , ‡ Comments (2) þ