Countering accusations of racism: a study of white South African migrant discourse in New Zealand

ABSTRACT

In this article, we examine the constructive and functional dimensions of the language used by white South African migrants in New Zealand to defend against being positioned as racist. This is understood within the wider context of the emigration process and the historical relationship between New Zealand and South Africa. In particular, we identify discursive tactics drawn on by white South African migrants to defend against being positioned – in actuality or imagination – as racist by New Zealanders. Transcriptions of five semi-structured interviews and four focus groups are analysed. Discursive manoeuvres include contextual determinism, South Africans self-positioning as culturally considerate, accusing the accuser, and the passive bystander explanation. Although the way these tactics are utilised is fairly distinct, such as in reflecting shared colonial histories, their general form has been noted in diverse present-day racist discourse studies.

KEYWORDS:

• Discourse
• New Zealand
• migrants
• racism
• South Africa

Introduction

The aim of this article is to examine one of the tensions of being a white South African migrant in contemporary New Zealand (NZ) by exploring four discursive strategies that were frequently drawn on by research participants to defend against being positioned as racist by New Zealanders. The ideological consequences of lay discourse, especially in relation to racism, has enjoyed significant interest over the last few decades (e.g. Augoustinos and Every 2007; Billig 1985; Leonard 2019; Lentin 2016, 2018; Nelson 2013; van Dijk 1992, 2000; Wetherell and Potter 1992). Here we endeavour to understand such discourse within a particular historical and situational context, that of the relationship between two former British colonies and the process of identity negotiation post-migration.

We first provide context by turning to South African migration research and statistics, with a special focus on NZ, before considering the unique historical relationship between NZ and South Africa (SA). The research method is then outlined before moving on to the analysis and discussion section in which the four discursive manoeuvres are examined using pertinent extracts from the research. These four tactics, being contextual determinism, South Africans self-positioning as culturally considerate, accusing the accuser, and the passive bystander explanation, are also linked to relevant research.

This analysis forms part of a larger project, Immigration and identity: South Africans in Aotearoa New Zealand, approved by the university’s ethics committee, which focussed broadly on the experiences of being a migrant and, more specifically, a South African migrant in NZ. In part, we wished to gather comments from the participants about SA as they now looked back on their country of origin from the outside. Also, in part, we wished to draw on this migrant experience – and thus of being a cultural outsider – as providing a fairly unique viewing point for interpreting certain issues in NZ including, for example, their observed responses of New Zealanders to various migrant groups and to issues of biculturalism. The interview questions were thus wide ranging. The term ‘race’ was not directly raised except in the final question where participants were asked to share their thoughts, looking back, about the racial classification system used in apartheid SA. Other relevant questions asked about occasions in NZ when participants became aware of being a migrant or of being from SA and what had triggered such associations. The issue of being positioned as racist by New Zealanders – whether actual or imagined – emerged from these wider conversations.

The significance of such a positioning was illustrated by the extent to which participants raised the issue of racism, the energy they devoted to challenge being positioned as racist (Steyn 2004), and the diversity of rhetorical strategies drawn on to counter such an interpretation. The experience of being positioned as racist in NZ due to being a white South African immigrant has been noted in the research literature (Meares et al. 2011), as is the attempt to create distance from such an identity (Meares 2007).

Although the term New Zealander is used throughout this article, it is recognised that there are different interpretations of this term. The authors have used the term New Zealander to refer to all New Zealand citizens and permanent residents whereas the participants have used the term New Zealander when referring specifically to Pākehā New Zealanders. For the sake of brevity, the term South African, as used throughout this article, refers to white South Africans.

Context

The South African immigrant in New Zealand

The number of persons born in SA resident in NZ has grown tremendously since the 1990s. Significant to understanding this process for Walrond (2015) is the change of government in SA following the 1994 democratic elections, where the African National Congress (ANC) replaced the predominantly white National Party (NP). He notes how the number of permanent residence permits for South Africans in NZ more than quadrupled from 958 in 1993 to 4224 in 1994, with a further 37,382 permits granted over the subsequent decade. Tracking the NZ censuses indicates SA as country of birth for 474 in the 1901 census, 1398 in 1951, and 26,061 in 2001. This growth has not slowed in the twenty-first century with 41,676 in 2006 and 54,276 in 2013, the latter comprising approximately 1.2% of the then NZ population (Statistics New Zealand 2014). Gross permanent and long-term annual migration figures have grown from 1285 in 2013 to 5275 in 2017 (Statistics New Zealand 2018). Similar trends are noted in NZ citizenship grants with South Africans being fifth highest from 1949 to 2014 but second highest from 2013 to 2016 (Department of Internal Affairs 2017). Thus there is a sustained and growing flow of South African migrants to NZ, of which the greater majority are white and, after 1990, have included a significant proportion of Afrikaans first-language speakers, gradually making up a small but notable part of the NZ population (Louw and Mersham 2001; Walrond 2015).

We argue that the timing of emigration is a significant aspect of the context in which South Africans and other migrants articulate their experiences and views. Recent studies examining the reasons for South Africans leaving their home country for New Zealand, typically recite a set of ‘push’ factors, including political instability, violence and crime, the decline in services and infrastructure and affirmative action policies (Lucas et al. 2006; Meares et al. 2011). Not surprisingly then, safety and better education and employment opportunities are identified as ‘pull’ factors. Given this, Trlin (2010) has argued that South Africans may be considered semi-voluntary migrants, this resulting in a sense of ambivalence, especially for Afrikaners (Louw and Mersham 2001), about leaving their home country.

Added to this is that the push and pull factors have changed over the last century. Louw and Mersham (2001) discern five waves of South African emigrants since the 1950s. They point out that these groups do not share the same sociopolitical ‘picture’ of SA. For example, it is only with the fourth wave (1984–1990), sparked by increased political violence, that significant ethnic and political diversity could be noted amongst emigrants, including the presence of Afrikaners. Previous waves had been typically liberal, Anglo, white and English-speaking. Afrikaans-speaking South Africans now comprise a significant proportion of contemporary migrants; with the 2013 Statistics New Zealand figure indicating 27387 (50.5%) specifying Afrikaans as their home language (Statistics New Zealand 2014).

Considering NZ’s immigration policies; the Immigration Act of 1987 changed the focus of NZ policy from an ethnic and national focus to one that accommodated those with sought after skills or bringing significant capital with them, further focussed by the implementation of a points system in 1991 (Phillips 2015). Such a system advantaged those with skills, education and capital, that is, the relatively wealthy. This would also then impact on the South Africans able to enter NZ, facilitating those with business skills, degrees and professional qualifications (Strategic Social Policy Group 2008). Consequently, a 2008 report showed South African immigrants having high employment and income rates compared to other national groups in NZ.

Given the racial stratification of resource allocation that typified the apartheid system, it would be those classified as ‘white’ that would be far more likely to receive a solid education and obtain a marketable skill set and professional qualifications. This gave rise to a conflation of class and race in apartheid SA; with white South Africans being typically middle-class. This conflation would decline significantly after the 1970s but broadly stayed in place into the 1990s despite the growth of a ‘black’ middle class (Seekings and Nattrass 2005). Given the post-1986 NZ immigration policy described above, this meant that it would most likely be the white middle-class most able to leave SA and gain access to NZ.

The above context has consequences for the sense of identity which must be negotiated in the process of settling into NZ. Bowskill et al. (2007, p. 809), in a critical analysis of acculturation discourse, point out that existing theory tends to profess a typological discourse (e.g. where groups are integrated, assimilated, separated, or marginalised) which undermines the complexity of the acculturation process; specifically that this process is ‘actually negotiated both within and between groups’. This means that universal and essentialist statements about migrant and host communities are simplistic and should be utilised with caution, especially with groups as diverse as South African immigrants.

The historical relationship between New Zealand and South Africa

Aside from the processes of emigration, acculturation and the negotiation of identity, we argue that historical context is also salient to understanding the response of South African immigrants to being positioned as racist. Historically, the relationship between NZ and SA is described by the literature as a close one – for better or worse. Both were colonies, and later dominions, of the British Empire, that had distinct and ambivalent relationships with the metropolitan state (Eddy and Schreuder 1988). The NZ relationship with England was far more loyal (Templeton 1998) as shown, for example, by the dominion’s immediate supportive military response during the Battle for Britain (Stewart 2015). Whilst SA, given the events of the Second Anglo Boer War and the rise of Afrikaner Nationalism, was far less warm in its relationship (Riseman 2014); this culminating in its withdrawal from the Commonwealth in 1961 following a referendum during the rule of the National Party (1948–1994), the explicit architects of apartheid. Afrikaners also tended to be resistant to British liberalism and the English language, allowing some British-born South Africans to conveniently attribute apartheid policies to Afrikaners (Leonard 2019; Steyn 2004).

‘Race’ was a core ideological scalpel that shaped these histories in NZ and SA, where distinct relationships and dealings between white settlers and indigenous communities played formative roles in the emergence of these nation-states (Coombs 2006). While NZ had a comparatively more integrated approach in relation to its indigenous people, this did not imply that ‘race’ was not a significant factor (Riseman 2014; Templeton 1998). The colonial ideology, practices and institutional structures of the British empire rapidly took from Maori almost all of their land and resources (Mutu 2019). This was ultimately grounded in the disputed and dubious claim by the Crown that Maori had ceded their authority. The ultimate result of this being a state of economic and political marginalisation for the majority of Maori that, granted progress made through ongoing activism and intervention, continues into the commonwealth present. Effects are visible, for example, in the contemporary life expectancy, income, education, home ownership, mental and physical health and incarceration statistics for Maori (Anderson et al. 2015; Matthewman 2017), including the return of less than 1% of pilfered lands and substantial evidence of ongoing discriminatory practices (Mutu 2019).

Aside from the nineteenth century New Zealand Wars and subsequent decline of Māori (King 2003) sketched above, Templeton (1998, p. 5) describes an ‘anti-Asian feeling’ that resulted in legislative attempts to curb the ‘perceived flood’ from the nineteenth century onward, the discriminatory aspect of policy only finally eliminated in 1986. He argues that this sentiment by Australia and NZ enabled the legislative space for the emergence of SA’s discriminatory policies post-World War One.

Institutionalised racist practices also included Pasifika peoples. Large numbers of Pacific islanders were coaxed to NZ in the 1960s to undertake factory and low-skill work only to find themselves positioned as ‘surplus to need’ during the recession of the 1970s (Dawn Raids n.d.; Mila 2017). Subsequent state responses included the infamous Dawn Raids undertaken by police from 1973 to 1979 targeting ‘overstayers’ which took particular aim at people from the Pacific islands.

However, if there is a core organising feature of the relationship between NZ and SA that brings ‘race’ into particular focus then it is the ‘secular religion’ of rugby (Templeton 1998, p. 2). Richards (1999) describes six distinctive periods of relational development between NZ and SA in terms of rugby, starting with the exclusion of Maori from All Black tours in SA and escalating to the 1981 Springbok Tour which led to numerous anti-apartheid protests, police actions and charges, political animosity, and two match cancellations. It is a period of NZ history with which the possibility of civil war has been associated (Maclean 1999; Richards 1999; Templeton 1998) and is, as such, a profound moment in the country’s history as it struggled to admit to its own racism.

Prior to this, NZ’s close relationship with SA resulted in the former been threatened with sanctions and being seen as a pariah state (Maclean 1999; Templeton 1998). For instance, the cost of NZ’s rugby romance with SA is bought into sharp focus by the events surrounding the 1976 Montreal Olympics (Ministry of Culture and Heritage 2014). NZ undertook a rugby tour of SA despite warnings by several African states that they would seek NZ’s exclusion from the Games should they ignore calls by the UN for a sporting embargo. Despite this, the IOC decided to not exclude NZ and, subsequently, 20 African nations withdrew from the Games. This is in the context of the intensification of state oppression and violence in SA during the 1970s. This included the forced resettlement of millions of black South Africans in the ‘homelands’ following the mass withdrawal of their citizenship in 1970, the killing of hundreds during the 1976 Soweto uprisings, and the murder in detention of Steve Biko in 1977 (Chronology of important events, n.d.; South Africa profile – Timeline 2018).

Richards (1999) argues that, aside from SA itself, NZ was the country most affected by SA’s racial politics. As such the two countries’ historical entanglement is also an affective one. These shared and disparate events in the histories of these two countries create a complex context for lived experience in the present, particularly for encounters between indigenous, settler and migrant communities (Coombs 2006). Recalled in discursive interaction they provide the resources for mutual negation and recognition in the process of negotiating a sense of acceptance and belonging in NZ.

Method

Research design

A discourse analytic (DA) approach, embedded in social constructionism, was utilised in this research. Such an overarching methodology acknowledges the socially embedded construction of knowledge and that we construct versions of reality using the language, or discourses, available (Willig 2013). This was further focussed by employing Discursive Psychology (DP), a strand of DA, so as to attend closely to the action orientation of the talk, that is, ‘what is the text doing’ rather than ‘what does it say’ (Willig 2008, p. 98). A focus on how versions of reality are constructed, negotiated and used in dialogue (Willig 2013) suited the research objective of exploring patterns of talk used by participating South African migrants to defend against racist stereotyping.

A further theoretical focus was given to the analysis by drawing from the burgeoning whiteness studies literature. Broadly speaking, whiteness functions as the norm for conduct; structuring everyday practices, discursive proclivities, institutional processes, and legitimate actions. All are rendered invisible by being taken for granted; comprising the ordinary whose constitutive and colonial history is similarly erased (Steyn 2004). In particular, Steyn’s notion of white talk proved useful; her sensitivity to history and context elucidating differing whitenesses where, for example, white talk differs across English and Afrikaner white South Africans.

Such an orientation also then moves away from a reliance on claims to an essence, for example, that a particular person is actually a racist or sexist; implying a moral failing or deviation from the majority. Lentin (2016, p. 36) highlights how such individualisation of racism obscures the structural forms of racism; rather than making visible the ‘expression of systemised racial logics with complex and multi-routed underpinnings.’ Highlighting DP, persons are then engaged in a continuous process of negotiation where they position themselves and others in particular ways. This is one way in which certain rights and/or responsibilities are claimed, imposed or contested. Some positions offered, for example, that one is a racist, can then either be accepted or resisted using discursive strategies available within that particular social, cultural and historical context. This does not deny that discourses have real and profound effects on the lives of others by, for example, vilifying or marginalising a person or group. Although not the only process through which discrimination and domination are embedded, the effects of discourse are all too real.

Procedure and participants

As indicated above, this study is part of a broader research project run by the second author. This author conducted and recorded semi-structured one-on-one interviews and focus groups with South African immigrants in early 2014. Invitations to participate were sent to several South African societies and clubs. In order to qualify the person needed to have spent at least their childhood and adolescence in SA, had to be 18 years old or older, and have been in NZ for at least one year.

Twenty-three participants responded to the invitations; 16 participants were interviewed and seven dropped out. The 16 participants (10 woman and 6 men) ranged in age from 21 to 66 years old, however, most were over 40 years old. The time participants had spent in NZ ranged from one to 20 years. Thirteen had been in NZ for more than five years. Eleven of the participants indicated Afrikaans as their home language and five indicated being English or bilingual. The interviews were conducted in English or Afrikaans depending on the preference of the participants. Under the historic South African ‘race’ classification system, 15 of the participants would have been classified as White and one as Indian. As discussed, during apartheid, such classifications were powerful determinants of status, identity and access to resources in South Africa (Louw and Mersham 2001). The Indian participant was included in the broader research project but, given the focus of this particular analysis, was omitted from this study.

Transcription and analysis

The recordings from the interviews and focus groups were transcribed using a similar transcription notation format to that developed by Gail Jefferson (Jefferson 1984). Four were transcribed by the first author and five had already been transcribed as part of the broader project. All transcripts were checked for accuracy against their audio recording by both authors. Both authors are fluent in Afrikaans and extracts from Afrikaans transcripts selected for analysis, were translated into English with translations being checked by both authors. In the extracts provided below, interviewer filler words are removed and indicated by // so as to save space.

Transcripts were read until familiar, with preliminary points of interest and potential patterns of meaning noted (Willig 2013). Detailed rereading identified relevant sections for further analysis. The analysis involved paying close attention to the constructive and functional dimensions of these sections (Potter and Wetherell 1987). We explored how participants used language to accomplish various constructions using devices such as metaphors, comparisons, contrasts, and subject positions (Potter and Wetherell 1987; Willig 2013). This was done by carefully considering the context within which the accounts were developed and by tracing the likely consequences of constructions for the participants in the conversation. Tensions and contradictions were explored to highlight dilemmas that were evident from the discursive resources called upon (Willig 2013). In this way, four common discursive strategies became evident that were agreed on by the authors.

Ethics

Approval for the wider research project was obtained from the Massey University Human Ethics Committee (Northern) (Human Ethics Approval Application – MUHECN 13/046). This study is considered a sub-component of this original research application and thus covered by original approval. Participant confidentiality was respected, and pseudonyms used in all notes, transcriptions, correspondence and reporting. Care was taken to ensure that no personal information or identifiable features were included in the transcripts that may lead to participant identification. Participants were informed prior to interview commencement that they were under no obligation to participate.

Limitations

Limitations may have been introduced through the selection processes. Invitations to participate in the research were sent to a number of South African societies and clubs which, despite being an effective way to recruit, could have resulted in a sample less diverse and therefore less representative of South Africans in NZ. The self-selection manner of recruitment may have affected the sample as those individuals with specific attributes may have been more motivated to apply. Furthermore, all but one of the participants are classified as ‘White’ as per the historic South African classification system. Attempts were made to recruit more diverse participants with no success. Future research would, therefore, benefit from a larger representation of South Africans from the historic classification groupings of ‘Black’, ‘Indian’ and ‘Coloured’ as increasingly more migrants from these ‘race’ groups have migrated from SA since the 1990s (Bornman 2005).

Analysis and discussion

Four discursive strategies were identified in the interview and focus group transcripts that were commonly used by participants to counter being positioned as racist. These are illustrated and discussed below in no specific order.

Contextual determinism

This strategy has participants arguing that historical events led to inequitable white rule in SA and it was thus a consequence of place, time and context. An attempt is thereby made to exonerate the accused by constructing a deterministic explanation. New Zealanders are asked to place themselves in a similar historical situation as South Africans to illustrate that they too would have made the same decisions leading to the same outcomes. In this way, responsibility and blame are dispelled, saying to the imagined accuser: You are no different from me as, in the same time and place, you would have done the same as me.

This discursive manoeuvre is illustrated in the extract below with Mike (pseudonym) describing how he responded to accusations of racism from an NZ work colleague by defining New Zealanders as white Rhodesians without servants. Rhodesia (renamed Zimbabwe following independence in 1980) is relevant as it was colonised by British settlers and crafted into a racially segregated society in which white settlers occupied the wealthy upper class while indigenous peoples were subjugated as an underprivileged labourer class (Raftopoulos and Mlambo 2009). This manoeuvre resists the positioning by historicising the situation.

Extract 1:

Mike: And, uhm, um:, so anyway, what I’m saying, Rhodesians without servants, so you can take that same ship that was coming to Zim.., uh, what’s this place, uhm, (Place name) coming to (.) to New Zealand in 1920, 1930, 1940 and place them in Rhodesia // They would have become, I, I always say to them; “You would have become like that, you would have had twenty servants. And you would have become a racist … ”

The blame is shifted from the individual to the socio-historical circumstances: Racism is a product of context and history and therefore cannot be located in the person of the South African migrant. The above construction is particularly interesting as it positions the imaginary addressee as not racist and so confirms an idealistic non-racist image of Pākehā New Zealanders.

This can be compared to the denial strategies explored by van Dijk (1992) in the Netherlands and United States. Van Dijk showed that denial strategies are often used to defend the in-group and represent them as ‘decent citizens’. In a similar way the deterministic explanation is used to portray white South Africans as not inherently racist, clearing the group of responsibility by emphasising their lack of control over the outcome. This also bears resemblance to rhetorical deflections to the external world; as discussed by Augoustinos and Every (2007), a moral or psychological reading of an issue is countered by indicating that this is simply the way the world worked at that time.

South Africans self-positioning as culturally considerate

This discursive strategy emphasises how aware and considerate white South Africans are of other cultures. Such sensitivity is often portrayed as the result of training or exposure to the multi-cultural environment in SA and is further emphasised by being contrasted to the claimed lack of cultural awareness in NZ. New Zealanders are described as being discriminatory towards migrants and ignorant of other cultures, and South Africans are thus positioned as superior to New Zealanders regarding cultural awareness and, as such, less likely to engage in racist acts.

In the following focus group example, Ester emphasises such multi-cultural awareness amongst South Africans, while Ann contrasts this to the ignorance of Pākehā New Zealanders. It is further implied that Pākehā choose such ignorance; as the dominant culture they can ignore their racism as minority groups lack the freedom of expression to challenge such comments. It is implied that Pākehā deny their racism and are trapped both within their dominant culture and the past, this allowing racism to be ‘rife’. Extract 2 opens with Ester indicating that New Zealanders fail to recognise the contemporary multi-cultural nature of NZ:

Extract 2:

Ester: By not thinking that, oh we're multi-cultural and (..) should step up to that. // Where [our training in South Africa was always multi-cultural.

Ann: [Ja // [Exactly ja.

Ester: Cause you had no [choice.

Ann: [I think, Kiwi's are actually quite ignorant, when it come, comes to racism.

[… ..]

Ann: Call it by the dirty [(.) word! // There's (..) racism is rife here. // [But they don't even realise it or they don't want to acknowledge it. // Uhm, and they just (.) don't seem to be aware of all the other cultures that are here.

Similarly, Nadia stresses that South Africans are more perceptive and considerate in their interactions with other cultures and ethnic groups, thus positioning them as restrained and self-controlled in contrast to New Zealanders. In the previous extract, Ester says, ‘you had no choice’, and this is echoed by Nadia below. They may both be referring to the post-1994 SA context where termination of employment, legal orders and fines under the Equality Act could follow blatantly racist comments. Interestingly this unsettles the sensitivity claim as it could be read to imply that such comments would otherwise have been made. In extract 3 Nadia describes blatant racist comments being made by ‘older guys’ at her work towards Maori:

Extract 3:

Nadia: And they would say it in front of them

Interviewer: Really? ok

Nadia: Yes, uh, whereas we were so sensitive. You couldn’t say anything // Where, where they’re more, a b-, open but not, uhm, internationally // It’s sort of a secret, but (.) // But you, uhm, practise it more openly than what we used to do

Interviewer: So, so you’ve kind of witnessed people just saying quite racist things, quite openly

Nadia: Yes. =

Redirecting the accusation to someone else is a common strategy (Wetherell and Potter 1992), a point which is explored further in the next section. Such deflection simultaneously allows the speaker to position themselves as responsible individuals who are able to control the impulse to be racist. Augoustinos and Every (2007) found this to be a common pattern in the self-presentation talk of Australians where the speaker is portrayed as tolerant and hospitable. A similar point is stressed by Wetherell and Potter (1992), arguing that Pākehā New Zealanders often present themselves as liberal, kind and caring so as to obscure the inequalities present in NZ society.

Accusing the accuser

Lentin (2016) refers to the three Ds of post-racial racism management as denial, deflection and distancing. As is apparent in this section, such actions are not discrete but are recruited simultaneously in various ways to counter being positioned as racist. The common tactic of participants accusing the accuser redirects the accusation onto another and simultaneously distances the claim from the self. Extract 4 is a typical example where Jane accuses New Zealanders of being more racist than South Africans, and therefore not in a position to pass judgement.

Extract 4:

Nadia: I think that, uhm (..) it (.) when, when, you meet anyone, from any other country, they always think that South Africa are, you are racist. // No matter who you are // But, but it’s, it’s not really as bad as (.) the media, everything, made it // I feel that there’s more racist (.) or racism HERE // Than there was back in South Africa

Nadia also downplays the accusation of racism in SA by calling into question the media's portrayal of events. Rojas-Sosa (2016) refers to the strategy of downplaying history, what Boulila (2019) calls post-colonial amnesia, where past events are claimed to not have been as terrible as portrayed. Interestingly when positioning New Zealanders as racist Nadia utilised ‘back in South Africa’ as a yardstick to emphasis severity, and uses the past tense implying that NZ racism today is worse than the racism in SA during the, historically distant, apartheid years.

In some instances, participants compared the Pākehā relationship with Māori and Pasifika people to apartheid SA. This implies contextual similarity and thereby, by association, positions New Zealanders as racist. In the extensive extract below, Ann positions Pākehā as architects of ethnic inequality and therefore in no position to pass judgment.

Extract 5:

I: =OK, now what, what would be a kind of good example of the typical racism that you, you see or

Ann: Uhm=

I: =or that you s-, or have witnessed or experienced?

Ann: Ja. (.) Well you just need to look at (.) If you, if (.) If you look at (..) sort of globally, what happens here (.) with the races: most, most of the (..) uhm, prison population is [ Māori and islander. // Most of the (.) poorest people are [ Māori and Pacific islander. // Most of the people in the menial labour jobs are Māori and Pacific islander. // =What does that OTHER (.) than racism? // Why are these people (..) They've never had, had Apartheid here. // Never been enforced here. // It's never been LEGAL to discriminate against Māori, YET // (..) Māori are the, the worst educated, in the lowest jobs, most of them are on the dole // And so on, [ and so forth. // So, why is it that (.) when they've had (..) If, IF they've had (.) equal rights // =to everything [ else // Uh:m, education, health services, da-di-da, everything [ else

=they should be on a par with the Pākehās, ja // =but they're not. // So that's racism that's caused that. // =It's discrimination against that, against them from the word go. // I've, I've worked in a school and I've actually seen it in the school. // =How (..) the Māori and Pacific islander kids are sort of pushed aside, ignored, and (..) you know // =Just (.) treated as if (.) they don't matter. {voice becomes high-pitched} By teachers! And [ by (.) kids too.

I: [ Ja, ja. So, so in practice, you (..) There's a, there's a (.) these kind of racist type (.)

Ann: Hh-mm=

I: =activities. But you're saying that, the way that (.) the country is spoken about (.) is it (.) contradicts that?

Ann: Oh [ yes, absolutely. // They, they will NEVER admit this. // [ They will NEVER admit this and they (.) they will just say, w-, w-, we've got no laws that discriminates (against), which is (.) // =maybe [ true. // {exasperated} But then WHY (..) are they not on a par with everybody [ else?

A similar and common manoeuvre was to compare Māori development policies with apartheid policies. Below, Phil responds to the question of whether there are any distinctions between Māori and Pākehā in NZ.

Extract 6: (translated from Afrikaans)

Phil: I think uh (.) yes in some respects there is a comparison with what happened in South Africa no matter how you look at this it remains a racist thing= // =it becomes so the moment you consider that they [Māori] are the minority here by far and in spite of this they are still advantaged over and above their numbers or else they diminish and this makes one think this is the same situation as in South Africa we had it until Mandela's takeover there then South Africa was in the same situation as what New Zealand is now where the minority [White South Africans] is protected. // What is happening here is precisely the the same as in South Africa, there it was called apartheid.

Phil positions NZ development policies as unfairly privileging the Māori minority in NZ. He argues that since apartheid and NZ policies share the same objectives, they are both racist. Through this he strives to retain a non-racist position: One can hardly be accused of racism when pointing out racist practices.

Phil’s comparison echoes the South African affirmative action debate where programs designed to correct the injustices of the past as often characterised as a form of ‘reverse racism’. His comments are also comparable to the 2004 ‘one nation’ argument in, then leader of the opposition, Don Brash’s ‘Orewa Speech’ which called for ‘one law for all’ and described affirmative action programs as separatist. Such talk is typical of ‘new or symbolic racism’ first studied in the 1980s (van Dijk 2000) and involves both the erasure of history and the utilisation of liberal values, such as equality, for conservative ends.

By de-historicising the current context such arguments create the illusion of contemporary equality. With the erasure of historical context, racism furthermore becomes universal and everyone can claim to be the victim (Lentin 2016; Rojas-Sosa 2016), enabling claims of reverse racism. Contemporary racism may also be erased by means of a temporal deflection via claims that racism has been overcome and belongs in the past (Nelson 2013; Rojas-Sosa 2016). Performing such a ‘reversal’ – ‘we are not the racists; they are’ – is considered the strongest form of denial and is typically employed by the moderate to radical Right (van Dijk 1992). It also resembles Pākehā discourse identified by Wetherell and Potter (1992) and suggests a convergence of ideological positions between South African migrants and Pākehā. More broadly, Bonilla-Silva (2000) demonstrated such a convergence of racial ideology across Western nations as comparable to the ‘symbolic racism’ identified by Barker (1981, as cited in van Dijk 2000). This showed how talk of liberal values, notions of fairness and equity, was used to perpetuate racist ideology (Barker, 1981; as cited in van Dijk 2000). Augoustinos and Every (2007) also refer to this as the use of liberal means for illiberal ends.

Normality and the passive bystander explanation

Participants often positioned themselves as passive bystanders who were unaware of apartheid or its impact at the time. Apartheid is depicted as something that was normal, part of the everyday, and thus invisible. The explanation however implies that they must, at some point in their lives, have recognised that apartheid was actually problematic. This creates a tension which calls for explanation so as to avoid being judged as either being supportive or indifferent to apartheid. The extracts below illustrate this construction of apartheid and explores two distinct approaches to dealing with the consequent tension created.

In extract 7, Martin opens with a disclaimer by distancing himself from apartheid by indicating it as something that he had nothing to do with. He explains that ‘I just grew up in South Africa as I saw it’; it was the normal he experienced in everyday life – this echoing the external world argument discussed earlier. Martin draws on his early life experience and, interestingly, rugby to counter a number of common assertions concerning life under apartheid.

Extract 7:

Martin: Um (.) I never had to do anything with Apartheid myself I mean I just grew up in in South Africa as I I saw it. // Um but I also know that on high school and in high school I was in the [name of province in South Africa] in a town called [name of small town] // And I mean Friday afternoon before we go out of the hostel we went to the rugby field close to the school and there we played rugby and just on the side of the rugby field was the the black settlement, the location as we called it at that stage, and they were there as well playing with us and we were always fighting about who’s in whose team who’s called the Springboks who’s called the All Blacks and that sort of stuff= // =so I mean I never felt apartheid that close to the skin as I should have

The narrative describes children ‘fighting’ about team membership and names implying equality; no ‘race’ was more dominant than the other since both had a say in the choice in membership and naming. This account downplays the image of apartheid as oppressive and harmful and, as such, averts negative judgement. The narrative of children playing rugby – the national sport – together constructs a scene of normality; a pseudo-race solidarity (Leonard 2019). It emphasises the togetherness of black and white children in ordinary activity and is used to subtly dispute the notion that apartheid demanded complete segregation and that it bred animosity. Martin declares that he never ‘felt apartheid that close to the skin as I should have’; understood to mean that he was never directly affected by it and did not see it for what it was. The metaphor is ironic as apartheid was very much about skin colour.

Such an example of everyday interaction averts a consideration of the structural and institutional nature of apartheid. Even though distinct living spaces are described in the extract, this does not detract from children’s being able to play and be together. This alludes to former SA Prime Minister Hendrik Verwoerd’s description of apartheid as ‘good neighbourliness’ (iconic 2010). It also demonstrates the work of ideology par excellence; the discriminatory architecture of society is rendered normal and thus invisible even as it structures the everyday activities of children.

In extract 8, Sue opens by positioning herself; ‘I didn't love the politics … ’ Again, emphasis is placed on the invisibility of apartheid as she refers to the fact that she was ‘born into that’ (the apartheid system) implying the absence of choice and thus blame. She describes that it was only at university that she gained insight into the consequences of apartheid, thus constructing university as the first place where ‘truth’ is revealed.

Extract 8:

Sue: I mean I didn’t love the politics before that [either

Interviewer: [Ja apartheid policies

Sue: Yes, no // Uh, but I mean you’re born into that you kind of, you, for you, for, it was, for us it was kind of normal until I got to university, then I realized hm, actually this isn’t really normal, [you know? // Because also the media was so controlled // [As you would know // So you’re fed (.) what they want you to hear // Uhm (.) Yes, so, so I love, and, and here we've got still a gardener and maid we've had for thirty-something years and you know, huge respect for them, and, and, yes I, so there's certain things I miss a lot and, I'm still, ja, I am still attached … 

In the extract, Sue undertakes a form of spatial deflection (Nelson 2013), by redirecting blame at the media. The construction of the media as an institution that was able to manipulate information and public thinking is used to transfer responsibility and blame away from South Africans in general. The metaphor of being ‘fed’ information compares information to food which can contain toxins which are unknowingly or unwillingly consumed and assimilated to become part of the self.

Evident in many interviews is the construction of apartheid as involving interpersonal relationships rather than being a structural-societal project that unequally distributed resource and power on the basis of ‘race’. For DiAngelo (2018), such a construction of racism acts to preserve and perpetuate white dominance as it prevents meaningful cross-racial dialogue and a recognition of the need for structural change. The portrayal of positive and enduring relationships provides an individualist reading of racism thus obscuring the underlying issues of power and resources (Lentin 2016). This is evident in the above extract in how Sue describes her long-term relationship with her maid and gardener explaining that she had ‘huge respect’ for them and that she still misses them. It is also evident in extract 7 in Martin’s description of black and white school children playing rugby together.

As stated, the recognition that apartheid is problematic calls for an explanation as to why one did not take a stance against such a system. Extract 9 below occurs after Sue describes how she listened to NZ radio after immigrating and how she heard lots of anti-migrant comments being shared by callers. She expresses distress at being stereotyped as a racist for having left SA. She defends her position by using an example in which she would inevitably lose life and limb if she had protested. The position of a passive bystander, in this case, evolves from one who was unaware to one who became aware but is then unable to act for good reason. Her defence concludes with a claim that she did resist by voting; a private act which provides anonymity and the ability to take a stance without being exposed to harm.

Extract 9:

Sue: And anti-South-African sentiment [that came through here

Interviewer: [Okay [surprised]. Ja?

Sue: Like, uh:m, South Africans are all arrogant and they’re racist and they’re only here because their government’s black // And this kind of made me a little bit (.) upset because I felt that, if you’re born into a situation, you do the best you can with it // You can’t all just leave or just become activists and have your arms blown off like some of those guys. [I mean, I wasn’t prepared to do that // I mean I was prepared to vote (.) DP [liberal, all white political party at the time] or whatever it was and, you know

With denial becoming unavailable due to the acknowledgement of the toxicity of a racialised system, Leonard (2019) identifies reimagination, the recasting of one’s role in a political and historical event, as the route through which privileged white subjectivities are organised and sustained. A position also noted by Wetherell and Potter (1992) in their NZ research, the passive bystander position implies that the person took no active role in racism and is therefore not responsible for its consequences. This particular strategy is often preceded by a disclaimer distancing the participant from racism or apartheid, a tactic also noted by van Dijk (1987, 1992).

To summarise, two ways of dealing with acknowledging apartheid’s consequences and then accounting for one’s passivity were noted. In the first, the image of apartheid as oppressive and harmful is downplayed by calling on narratives that emphasise positive relationships, fairness and equality between individuals during the apartheid years. This is consistent with van Dijk (1992) and Rojas-Sosa (2016) showing how mitigation strategies such as ‘down toning’ were often used to minimise the impact of racism. In the second, the dire consequences and risk to self of taking up an active anti-apartheid position in the old SA is emphasised; that is, in a highly dangerous situation can one be blamed for keeping one’s head down?

Conclusion

The broad objective of this article was to explore the discursive strategies drawn on by South African immigrants in NZ in countering the perception of being stereotyped as racist. The analysis of this sample of South African migrant discourse brings into focus the contrasting position of being both a minority group, which is subjected to prejudice from the dominant culture, as well as being a group associated with racism and prejudice due to historic apartheid policies that ensured white minority rule in SA prior to the first democratic elections in 1994.

White South African migrants in NZ are likely to be questioned on their views of apartheid and in some cases may even be directly accused of racism (Bornman 2005; Crush 2013). Consequently, white South Africans are alert to discourse that implicitly or explicitly position them as racist. The negotiation and avoidance of prejudice have been explored in various other studies (e.g. Billig 1985; Leonard 2019; Potter and Wetherell 1987; Rojas-Sosa 2016; Steyn 2004; van Dijk 1984, 1987) often showing how people implicitly support conservative racial social orders while simultaneously attempting to avoid being described as prejudiced.

As indicated, the four common discursive strategies identified in this analysis are recognisable in similar studies in other parts of the world. However, it is noticeable in the extracts provided how the particular historical relationship between SA and NZ, as well as the status of being a SA migrant, are utilised, showing how general rhetorical manoeuvres are always embedded in a particular historical and situational context. Thus, we find references, for instance, to shared migrant histories, sporting obsessions, policies and colonial inequalities. This illustrates Steyn’s (2004) point that although whiteness acts as the norm that makes dominance obscure, there are distinct whitenesses at work here that, though once fractured geographically and historically, are bought into the debate through migration as each side, South African and New Zealander, try to rise above their past and privilege.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).