Pity poor multiculturalism. Rarely has a political idea changed from hooray word to boo word so quickly.
Back in the early days of Blairite optimism, spurred on by its apparent success in taming the worst of Britain’s post-war racism, multiculturalism was the destination to which we were all travelling: a happy, easy-going city in which everyone enthusiastically celebrated what made them different from everyone else.
There were always strong and informed voices on the other side, people who warned that fixating on diversity would merely divide and segregate. Like Euro-sceptics, however – often, indeed, the same people – they were largely ignored. Now their time appears to have come.
The last decade has shown us that not all difference is to be celebrated. But then, most people knew that already. More alarmingly, it has shown that some of these not-to-be-celebrated differences were alive and kicking within British society, incubated by multicultural ideas that had nothing to counter them. The result has been a remarkably rapid volte face, in which public figures have lined up to seal the doctrine in concrete and bury it miles underground.
Every society is a combination of centripetal and centrifugal forces. Some – language, nationhood, religion, custom, survival – bring us together. Others – often the same ones in different forms – serve to pull us apart. The singular emphasis on multiculturalism over recent decades has helped unbalance these forces in Britain, although it has not, despite what some claim, done it alone (rising levels of material inequality since the late 1960s have had a similar effect). The proposed rebalancing is thus to be welcomed – but with caution.
Just as multiculturalism has suffered over the years from an uncritical recognition of diversity, so must the reaction against it should learn from the past and not adopt an equally uncritical attitude to cohesion.
Put another way, quoting Jonathan Chaplin’s new essay on multiculturalism, “governments should not seek to inculcate demanding ethical virtues like friendship, still less require a mutual celebration of difference” among their people. The state is not very good at and has no business in making people get on with one another. You cannot legislate people into fraternity.
This is not to say that friendship, fraternity and even the observation of one another’s festivals is not an entirely laudable goal. Rather, it is to say that it is to be achieved by local, community, religious, and other groups, who meet, talk and share common interests.
That does not let government off the hook. On the contrary, it retains an important role, specifically in securing what Chaplin calls “multicultural justice”, a state whereby no minority experiences entrenched prejudice or disadvantage, is left to languish in serious internal discord, or generates attitudes or behaviour that endanger individuals or the public good.
What this means in practice is, of course, open to debate. It clearly incorporates tackling the more egregious examples of discrimination that have been in multiculturalism’s sights since the early days. But it can go beyond this. Thus, where an ethnic or religious identity is well-established and an important marker of a person’s public standing, and where it may be at risk from corrosion or assault, it may be deserving of public recognition.
This might include the right of a black schoolboy to exemption from a school policy mandating “short back and sides”, allowing him to wear his hair in “cornrows” in keeping with family and ethnic traditions, a judgement that was upheld by the High Court in June 2011. More controversially, it could entail the right of certain religious groups to maintain a mechanism for alternative dispute resolution, a form of tribunal similar to private tribunals that are permitted under civil law. The extent to which such religious or ethnic customs are indeed “well-established” or “important” will be debatable but this does not count against multicultural justice. Ambiguity is inherent in any legislation and, in the final instance, the courts are used to interrogating such claims.
Multicultural justice is not simply a one-way street, however. Indeed, in any truly just settlement, the ethnic and religious rights of individuals and associations must be assessed in the wider context of the public good, a good that they cannot simply trump. Thus, if a tribunal could be shown to exercise authority over non-consenting adults (the perennial fear for women in sharia courts), or if publicly recognising a religious or ethnic identity erodes the duties inherent in citizenship, then the demands of public good must win through.
What multicultural justice in effect demands is that we recognise the difference between “mere” and “virtuous” citizenship.
Neither category is amenable to definitive description, but broadly speaking the former comprises those things that a government may legitimately demand and compel, such as abiding by law, paying taxes, respecting the fundamental constitutional rights and freedoms of all citizens (including those with whom they disagree vigorously), accepting the outcomes of constitutional democratic government and agreeing to work within those structures to change legislation.
Virtuous citizenship, by contrast, is more demanding. The virtuous citizen will vote, volunteer, campaign, and donate. She will, in short, contribute to society.
Everyone wants to live in a society of virtuous rather than mere citizens, but while the state may seek to nurture such public virtue, it should not compel it, or even make it the criterion for receipt of public money. Ultimately, the only thing the makes a citizen virtuous is another virtuous citizen.
