Politics can often be a case of history repeating. The last time Australia introduced a language test — the infamous Dictation Test — it cemented for itself a legacy of 'White Australian' nationhood that stands to this day.
Recently, the Turnbull Government proposed a bill that carried strong echoes of the White Australia policy and the dictation test. This Citizenship Bill failed in the Senate, and there is cautious optimism that the exclusionary processes it aimed to implement would now not be so even though the government confirmed it will be repackaging the bill for a future submission.
The bill's proposed changes included longer permanent residency times before being allowed to apply for citizenship, the necessity of sitting a high-level English proficiency test (and being limited in the number of times the test can be taken), and proving that steps have been taken to integrate into Australian society. While the overall bill ramps up the difficulty of becoming an Australian citizen, the latter element especially depends on 'proof' of Australian values or integration that is open to active contestation.
There are many questions one could ask around these ideas, and many of them have been in the mix since Australia declared itself a nation. Aside from the many critiques around definitions of Australian identities or values, I often wonder: Does being able to say you're a good Australian mean you are a good Australian? Similarly, are you only a good Australian if you can say you're a good Australian?
At heart, of course, these are questions grounded in the value of language and identity — does a good Australian have to speak English? My father spoke English fluently when we migrated to Australia in the late 1970s. He had had the privilege of attending a Chinese school in Malaysia that taught English to that level of proficiency.
As a Colombo Plan scholar, he undertook his university studies here in Australia and we later came to live in Brisbane as a family. Our whole family, having been schooled in Australia, are all fluent in English. Indeed, I was awarded my PhD in literary studies. I think that might make me an uber-good Australian! Yes, I say that with more than a drop of sarcasm.
I should point out here that being an 'uber-good Australian' also happens to make me a bad migrant in the eyes of some. I may have great English skills but I offer little value to those who want to engage me as a cultural insider or bridge-builder with Chinese or Malaysian groups and communities.
"I am not one of those useful migrants that many government White Papers desire as their gateways to economic opportunity and national prosperity."
I am monolingual. I'm not a staunch observer of cultural rituals or habits. I don't even — wait for it — eat chili. I am not one of those useful migrants that many government White Papers desire as their gateways to economic opportunity and national prosperity.
Just for the record, and to end my tongue-in-cheek-ness, I don't think I am an uber-good Australian, or a bad migrant. These kinds of valuations are exclusionary and based on cultural and racial stereotypes, and they offer only a contingent acceptance of the different groups that make up our society.
Alana Lentin writes that the White Australia policy was not retracted 'primarily because of the immorality of its existence, but because of the demographic demands pressing down on Australia as an economic actor', and that Australia finds racism easy to deny because intentions are prioritised over actions. Let's look beyond the stated intentions of our government and their alarmist rhetoric about national security and focus on their increasingly xenophobic actions.
Tseen Khoo is a lecturer at La Trobe University and founder/convenor of the Asian Australian Studies Research Network (AASRN), anetwork for academics, community researchers, and cultural workers who are interested in the area of Asian Australian Studies. She tweets as @tseenster.