By Rym Ghazal
“The only thing worse in the world than being talked about is not being talked about.”
—Oscar Wilde.
It seems as if the world took notice of Wilde’s observation and is talking and talking about citizenship.
What was once a subject only discussed by boring legislators and over-anxious immigrants is now a main course heavily debated at dinner parties, second only to trivial gossip about the neighbours.
William Sampson, Zahra Kazemi and Maher Arar have now become household names.
Their unfortunate circumstances prompt questions of why and what happened and will it happen again? But more important, their cases provoke a more illusive and philosophical question of what actually is Canadian citizenship?
Before we can begin to answer this question, we need a quick trip down policy lane.
The date is Feb. 15, 1977, and a change was introduced to the Canadian Citizenship Act: Canadians can now legally carry citizenship documents for more than one country.
It was a strategic change of policy designed to lure more immigrants to Canada who may want to keep their birth nationality. Ever since, many Canadians have held on to their other citizenship for traveling and personal reasons.
The effect of this change was revolutionary as it gave birth to a new breed of immigrants who some call “trans-immigrants,” immigrants that transcend place to the point where their identity is no longer rooted to one location. These immigrants’ notions of home are complicated as they seem to include both the countries of origin and residence.
But having more than one passport is not a Canadian thing. Rather, it is a reflection of the changing face of citizenship in general.
Citizenship is going international, like everything else. It is no longer bound to a single geographical location or a single social or religious affiliation.
It’s no surprise then that some experts claim Canada was ahead of its time when it allowed multiple citizenship. Some researchers go as far as to call it an insightful move given how highly integrated and mobile the world is getting.
Take for instance the case of the European Union, where traditionally very nationalistic European countries are willing to accept a universal identity in the name of economic and strategic conveniences.
But then there are those that argue against multiple citizenship.
They fear trans-immigrants, or more appropriately, trans-citizens, feel less connected to their Canadian identity because their sense of Canadianhood is diluted by multiple nationalistic ties.
There are also various legal and political complications arising from having other citizenships. Remember Sampson, Arar and Kazemi? Now Abdul Rahman Khadr may be joining the club of Canadian citizenship under attack.
Citizenship in general is a highly emotional issue and hence settling on a single definition of Canadian citizenship is impossible, especially given the heterogeneous Canadian population.
Just imagine how challenging it will be for legislators and politicians to settle on specific citizenship policies and legislation that can control the ever-growing breadth of citizenship.
However, as long as trans-citizens generally embody the four universal Canadian values of equality, tolerance, peace, and law and order, does it really matter what exactly Canadian citizenship is?