IMMIGRATION is no longer a one-way street. If there is a “push” from Third World nations, there is an equal and opposite “pull” from the First World. But that does not make ours a borderless world, open to the free movement of people. In fact, goods and services slip across frontiers much more easily.
One measure of friendliness towards immigrants is the ratio of people in a country that are foreign-born. It tells us how open a country is to accepting immigrants and refugees. By this reckoning, Canada is at the top of the league, with roughly a fifth of its population born overseas. France is a median nation on this score (11 per cent), while Japan (one per cent) is at the bottom — ranking 139th in the world in terms of refugee acceptance. In other words, homogeneity points to closed borders.
Canada has been held up as a poster child for its high rate of immigration, most recently by Philippe Legrain, author of Immigrants: Your Country Needs Them. Mr. Legrain, a British economist and writer, says, “Canada’s example shows that diversity can be a source of strength, not of weakness; a reason to belong, not an excuse to exclude.” Yet, Canada’s record is hardly spotless and comes up for occasional criticism by the UN and refugee agencies.
Even last week, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees was critical of Canada for turning back four refugees from Haiti and one from El Salvador along its border with the US. The Canadian Council for Refugees also weighed in, saying that the latest incident “strengthened the impression that the Canadian government is becoming increasingly hostile to refugees and unwilling to uphold its international commitments.”
That being said, few nations have confronted the inequity of its immigration policies with as much candour. Canada’s equivalent of Staten Island in the US is called Pier 21 (in Halifax, Nova Scotia) and has a museum dedicated to the 1.5 million newcomers who landed in Canada from 1928 to 1971. A plaque at the museum’s entrance reads: “Through these doors have come immigrants and refugees from every part of the world, often bringing with them little more than hope and dreams of a better life for themselves and their children. History records that many of these citizens overcame hardships and often outright discrimination and hostility. Yet, they endured, settling the land, building communities and forging links across this vast land. “We, today's Canadians, owe much to their commitment, hard work and loyalty. The heritage which they bequeathed to us is a unique multicultural nation committed to full and equitable participation of individuals of all origins, bound together by citizenship and the common values of peace, respect for diversity and adherence to the rule of law.”
In comparison, France has just opened its Museum of Immigration History to little fanfare. For a nation where immigration is front and centre in the domestic debate, one would have thought the opening of such a monument would be an occasion to celebrate the welcome it has given to millions over 130 years. But the timing may be off. Today, the majority believes that France receives too many immigrants and may have little trouble accepting new legislation that would have family members take DNA tests before being sponsored for visas.
As one of the curators of the new museum put it, “Ever since the word ‘immigrant’ appeared in the late 19th century, it has had a negative connotation — connoting a menace, an inassimilable foreigner, a potential criminal, a polygamist and now a terrorist.” Gerard Noiriel went on to say, “Our job is to change that point of view.” The museum definitely makes a start — like Canada — by acknowledging the “xenophobia” toward foreign workers and the implicit racism that has characterised much of France’s immigration policies.
At the other end of the spectrum is Japan’s acceptance of the foreigner in its midst. At just one per cent of its population, the stranger at the gate stands little chance of ever gaining entry. Between 1982 and 2004, the country that gave the world Toyota and Sony admitted only 313 refugees — fewer than 10 per cent of those who tried. Since then, Tokyo has been a little more relaxed, but still only 46 and 34 refugees have managed to secure entry in subsequent years. “It has been a very legalistic approach, showing no humanitarian sense to those who had to flee,” according to a former UN high commissioner for refugees, Sadako Ogata. “From the perspective of Japanese officials, the fewer that come the better.”
This policy of keeping Japan’s gates shut is a corollary to an exclusivity that is rarely articulated in public. However, Taro Aso, a former foreign minister and a leading light of the ruling party, has been quoted as describing Japan as “one culture, one race.” The country also has no law against racial discrimination, making it one of the few holdouts, especially among industrially advanced countries. To make things worse, Japan is known to rigorously investigate the charges of persecution levelled by asylum-seekers against their home nations, sometimes with the help of the same police and military responsible for the torment in the first place.
Ironically, there are few nations on earth that need immigrants as much as Japan. With a birth rate in free fall, its citizens are expected to drop from the current number of 127 million to 95 million by 2050. By mid-century, 40 per cent of its population will be 65 years and older, leaving a smaller number of younger people supporting the social and health costs of the entire population. In response, the Japanese seem to say, ‘We’ll have robots, rather than immigrants.’
Mr Legrain sees these restrictions as a form of “global apartheid.” Addressing western democracies, he has this advice: “[I]f our conscience is not sufficient to persuade us to change course, then our self-interest surely ought to.”
A Nieman scholar from Harvard University, George Abraham writes from Ottawa. Write to him at diplomat01@rogers.com