The Australian passport isn’t all it was cracked up to be. By Anne Heath Mennell
POST readers may recall that I have written on this matter before. I thought I had said everything I wanted to say but I was wrong. The current ban on arrivals from India has generated great debate, a lot of heat, a little light and has set me thinking about citizenship once again.
First, it is worth remembering that one in three Australians was born overseas and still has strong links with families and places elsewhere. I am one of them. Many will be lucky enough to have dual citizenship – I am one of those, too. However, people from India must renounce their original citizenship if they become Australian citizens. Their only support in a crisis has to come from the Australian Government.
POST readers may recall that I have written on this matter before. I thought I had said everything I wanted to say but I was wrong. The current ban on arrivals from India has generated great debate, a lot of heat, a little light and has set me thinking about citizenship once again.
First, it is worth remembering that one in three Australians was born overseas and still has strong links with families and places elsewhere. I am one of them. Many will be lucky enough to have dual citizenship – I am one of those, too. However, people from India must renounce their original citizenship if they become Australian citizens. Their only support in a crisis has to come from the Australian Government.
One of the best things the government did was to close Australia’s borders early on but that meant thousands of Australians were left stranded in countries which were very badly affected by the pandemic. The PM expressed the hope that all who wanted to return would be home by Christmas but, after a year, there are still at least 36,000 Aussies abroad who can’t get home. Around 9000 of those people are in India, with more than 600 deemed “vulnerable”.
When the pandemic first hit, no one knew what to expect. Many Aussies overseas had jobs, contracts, mortgages, leases, kids in school, pets, club memberships and all the many commitments of daily life. Anyone who has migrated, or even moved interstate, will know how difficult it can be to disentangle yourself from one life to begin another somewhere else. Many who had missed the boat tried desperately to find flights only to have them cancelled multiple times, leaving them in limbo.
The Age this week reported a Lowy Institute survey of more than 2200 people in March found 59 per cent said the Federal Government had done the right amount in helping Australians overseas return, while 33 per cent said the government had not done enough. Given that the overall number of stranded Australians has stayed pretty steady for months, and Christmas was four months ago, I think the numbers speak for themselves.
The current ban has been described in various ways – unlawful, undemocratic, drastic, draconian, ruthless and racist. There seems to be general agreement that the first duty of government is to ensure the safety and welfare of all its citizens wherever and whoever they may be. There is a basic, fundamental right of citizenship that citizens must be allowed to return and live in their own country. However, the government has made it a criminal offence, albeit temporarily.
In the opinion of Geoffrey Robertson, the decision was made under a dictatorial power not approved by Parliament. Others have described it as democracy being trashed, an incredibly dangerous precedent which should not go unchallenged and a first step to a totalitarian state. It has been pointed out that no other government has taken these measures.
I am no legal scholar but the whole idea of citizenship is a legalistic concept of a particular relationship between individuals and the state, with rights and obligations going both ways. I am old enough to remember stories of evacuations and super-human rescue missions undertaken in wartime so that no-one was left in danger, if at all possible. Later on there would be daring hostage rescues and the images of helicopters evacuating Americans during the fall of Saigon are seared in my brain. The refrains “we look after our own” and “no-one left behind” even applied to the dead. The aim was to get everyone “home” even if it was in a body bag.
My ex-husband is Indian and, when we were married, we made several trips to India. He still has family there and I have no idea how they are faring. I’ve been thinking of how I would feel if I was there on holiday and was now stuck there, unable to come home. Frankly, I would be terrified and would want to return home as quickly as possible, any way I could. I would also expect some assistance from the diplomatic service and, in the current circumstances, I would feel abandoned in what has been described as a “war zone” and a “human catastrophe”.
Australia has worked hard to get to where we are now. Closed borders, quarantine, lockdowns and other measures have been largely successful in keeping us safe and I am very grateful for that. I want us to be cautious as we move forward, minimising risks wherever possible.
However, I have been reminded again that being an Australian citizen is more complex than I once thought and that my passport is not necessarily a “home free” card in every circumstance. Maybe it never was, maybe it was just a fantasy of mine, but I do wonder what it means to be an Australian citizen.
When the pandemic first hit, no one knew what to expect. Many Aussies overseas had jobs, contracts, mortgages, leases, kids in school, pets, club memberships and all the many commitments of daily life. Anyone who has migrated, or even moved interstate, will know how difficult it can be to disentangle yourself from one life to begin another somewhere else. Many who had missed the boat tried desperately to find flights only to have them cancelled multiple times, leaving them in limbo.
The Age this week reported a Lowy Institute survey of more than 2200 people in March found 59 per cent said the Federal Government had done the right amount in helping Australians overseas return, while 33 per cent said the government had not done enough. Given that the overall number of stranded Australians has stayed pretty steady for months, and Christmas was four months ago, I think the numbers speak for themselves.
The current ban has been described in various ways – unlawful, undemocratic, drastic, draconian, ruthless and racist. There seems to be general agreement that the first duty of government is to ensure the safety and welfare of all its citizens wherever and whoever they may be. There is a basic, fundamental right of citizenship that citizens must be allowed to return and live in their own country. However, the government has made it a criminal offence, albeit temporarily.
In the opinion of Geoffrey Robertson, the decision was made under a dictatorial power not approved by Parliament. Others have described it as democracy being trashed, an incredibly dangerous precedent which should not go unchallenged and a first step to a totalitarian state. It has been pointed out that no other government has taken these measures.
I am no legal scholar but the whole idea of citizenship is a legalistic concept of a particular relationship between individuals and the state, with rights and obligations going both ways. I am old enough to remember stories of evacuations and super-human rescue missions undertaken in wartime so that no-one was left in danger, if at all possible. Later on there would be daring hostage rescues and the images of helicopters evacuating Americans during the fall of Saigon are seared in my brain. The refrains “we look after our own” and “no-one left behind” even applied to the dead. The aim was to get everyone “home” even if it was in a body bag.
My ex-husband is Indian and, when we were married, we made several trips to India. He still has family there and I have no idea how they are faring. I’ve been thinking of how I would feel if I was there on holiday and was now stuck there, unable to come home. Frankly, I would be terrified and would want to return home as quickly as possible, any way I could. I would also expect some assistance from the diplomatic service and, in the current circumstances, I would feel abandoned in what has been described as a “war zone” and a “human catastrophe”.
Australia has worked hard to get to where we are now. Closed borders, quarantine, lockdowns and other measures have been largely successful in keeping us safe and I am very grateful for that. I want us to be cautious as we move forward, minimising risks wherever possible.
However, I have been reminded again that being an Australian citizen is more complex than I once thought and that my passport is not necessarily a “home free” card in every circumstance. Maybe it never was, maybe it was just a fantasy of mine, but I do wonder what it means to be an Australian citizen.