According to Piller and Takahashi (2011), social inclusion in the age of globalisation and transnational migration implicates language in modern, multicultural societies, where proficiency in an officially recognised language is (perhaps misleadingly) seen as key to social and economic inclusion, and where attitudes to multilingualism can determine the way that the social inclusion agenda is articulated. However, some migrants, perhaps through difficulty with linguistic acculturation, always remain on “peripheral trajectories”, where full participation never occurs but identity is still influenced by the community of practice (Wenger, 1998:154). Others may be persistently marginalised within communities of practice, due to racial, cultural or gender discrimination, where “non-participation prevents full participation” (1998:166). For example, “Women who seek equal opportunity often find that the practices of certain communities never cease to push them back into identities of non-participation. In such cases, forms of non-participation may be so ingrained in the practice that it may seem impossible to conceive of a different trajectory within the same community.” (Wenger, 1998:166-7)
The study of Gujarati women undertaken in this research observes that the construction of the “other” robs the participants from having meaningful and in-depth communication with the mainstream population. Gujarati women have more non-white contacts as their friends and feel that, in general, those who do not speak English are treated as aliens and
substandard because their silence is interpreted as lacking intelligence and being cognitively challenged. The cultural patterns of minority groups are viewed inferior to mainstream norms which has its roots in the cultural deficit model. The cultures of non-dominant groups are viewed as “lacking in the social and cognitive resources” needed for succeeding in spoken skills. (Norton, 2002)
This can be illustrated by the examples of two elderly Gujarati women, Naru and Urmi. Naru (70 years old) lives with her youngest son’s family in West London. She moved to Uganda from India, after her father’s death, to join her brother’s family when she was 14. She got married in Uganda and had three children. Her family was forced to come to England after the Ugandan crisis in the early seventies. She narrates the harrowing experience of being stopped and searched at each check-post in Uganda while getting out of the country. She reminisces about the good quality life in Uganda and the things that they had to leave behind. She takes pride in telling how they had worked hard to get where they are now, after arriving here with only fifty five pounds with them. Talking about her experiences of racism in the 1960 she says:
“When we were sent here, we had to go to Wales, there were no people from our community there.. you had to go to Leicester to meet people.. the white people didn’t like us. When I used to go to work, on the bus...nobody sat next to me.. When in Wales, my son goes (went) to school, he very clever in studies, so people.. like other parents, spit (on him).. it’s not much in London, but in small country side.. life is difficult..”
As discussed the literature review Gordon (1986) illustrated how South Asian groups have protected themselves against racial abuse through social and geographical clustering in the UK. Peach et al. (1988) also illustrate consequences such as alienation from the majority and radicalization, essentialism or even fundamentalism within the ethnic communities. Naru’s narratives elaborate why clustering serves as a defensive function against racial harassment. On the other hand, it segregates the community, particularly women who then rely on the family or community network to conduct their lives and never have a chance to interact with the wider social network (Ward, 2007; Bhopal, 1997).
Urmi, (75 years old), spends most of her time in the UK but travels extensively to Kenya and India as a transnational citizen. She considers life in Kenya to be the best time of her life. She says:
“We were foreigners in Africa too, but we never felt like outsiders. We had a good social life. I was in East London refugee camp, it wasn’t good. The teenager boys, used to kick us as we walked. They removed things from our trolleys when we went for shopping. They used to pull our hair…. Used to say why are you here?… called us Paki .. ( laughs….)”
To understand the meaning of this laughter, we have to look at the political scenario in the state of Gujarat in India. In 2002, under the leadership of a staunch Hindu activist Chief Minister, Narendra Modi, the state of Gujarat took pride in advocating strong Hindu sentiments. It is also notorious for the Godhra riots where innocent Muslims were strategically attacked. However, Modi’s dynamism is highlighted through the media by the constant propaganda of the economic progress of Gujarat and within the past few years he has risen to the highest position as the Prime Minister of India. According to Vertovec (1999) Right-wing religious organisations in the homeland are known to gain much support from overseas populations: most notably, Hindus through the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (and, by extension, the Bharatiya Janata Party, BJP, right wing ruling party). In India the term Paki is used for someone who is considered to be anti-Hindu or a traitor.
According to Ballard (2002): ‘Whilst it is undoubtedly the case that anti-Islamic sentiments are even more deeply entrenched component of the British cultural tradition than they are in South Asia, there is little evidence that most members of the indigenous majority can accurately differentiate between South Asians who are Muslims and those who have other religious affiliation: indeed in the first instance they are all popularly identified as ‘Pakis’. It is possible that religion is an identity marker that helps these women to preserve their individual self-awareness and group cohesion (Rayaprol, 1997:16). The reconstruction of religion in a diasporic context occurs in two ways. First, religion attaches itself to culture, and second, it becomes identified with ethnicity. Martin Baumann (2001) through his research, provides instances of how the members of the host society generally value Hindus
and their religious practices as alien. He points out that Europeans treat Hindus and their religious practices as “foreign, exotic, being only a tolerated, but not really [an] accepted part of European culture” (p. 59).
However, the immigrants, through their religious and cultural symbols, negotiate this identity over the course of time. Interviewing the elderly Gujarati women shows how these women have created a strong network to support each other through religious activities. This platform provides them the essential support they lack from the mainstream community. Urmi and Naru who are neighbours were discussing their next monthly group meeting when I met them. A group of 10 to 15 elderly women take turns to arrange monthly religious singing groups. These meetings are a highlight of their otherwise quiet, monotonous life. I was told that they were going to attend a meeting to mourn the death of ‘Naru’s uncle’s daughter-in-law’s sister’ who had passed away in Kenya. This distant relationship may sound like a laughable matter from a Western perspective, but the kinship networking remains strong and meaningful in diasporic South Asian communities and as if provides a purpose to the lives of these women.
6.8 RACIALISATION
Zahra provides an example of how language learners are disadvantaged because of the increasing barriers of racialisation, post 7/7 bombings in London. Zahra who is from Ahmedabad, the biggest city in Gujarat, had a sound grammatical background in English, but lacked fluency in speaking when she came to London recently, after getting married. She is very positive about learning to speak English proficiently and apply her skills in Mathematics to find a teaching post. However, she tries not to be dismayed by her initial experience of being distanced from her imagined social identity because of her religious identity.
Smita: So tell me, how and where were you able to practise speaking after coming here?
Zahra: (laughs) When I was in India, I studied English, I mean all 5 years of college, everything was in English. But could I speak it properly? No. Then after my marriage, I thought, ok this is my chance. Now I will learn to speak English properly.
Smita: Then?
Zahra: My first shocking experience was when I arrived here...we have this elderly white man in the neighbouring house. I said good morning to him. He didn’t say anything. I asked my husband, why? He said, perhaps because we are Muslims. Can you believe this? And I don’t even wear a hijab. You know right, even in Gujarat we had some religion problems? ...But in daily life…we are ok with each other…I think I will still try .. May be one day I can speak English with him too, of course, now I can speak very well too...ok...accent is there (laughs).. but funny thing... he doesn’t speak.. but that day he helped me with my heavy bags to my doorstep... so may be something’s changed.. I don’t know.
Zahra’s passing reference to Gujarat riots is a reminder of the cultural and structural violence against Muslims in the year 2001, in the state of Gujarat, signalling the increasing violence against the Muslim community post 9/11 and a tendency to equate Muslims with terrorism, anti-modernity and religious hysteria. As mentioned above, Gujarat’s Chief Minister during that period, who is now the Prime Minister of India, publically declared that all Muslims are not terrorists but all terrorists are Muslims (You Tube, 2008). Having suffered the Islamophobia in her birthplace, Zahra is agitated to face similar experiences in her new home country known for her democratic and liberal values. However Zahra’s optimistic view of life allows her to see a glimmer of hope of creating a friendly connection with her neighbour and the community.
Zahra’s example improves our understanding of ‘belonging’ further, through gendered, racialized and ethnicized identification and shows us how women negotiate and understand their multiple diverse diasporic identities (Brah, 2007).