OPINION: Many years ago, when I was still active on Facebook, I commented on a post where people were complaining about cyclists on the Manawatū Gorge Road. Someone replied: “Go back home, mate. Ride an elephant.”
Microaggression? Sure! The guy had seen my name, guessed the wrong nationality, and reached for what he thought was an insult. The joke was on him. The village where my family lives actually does have an elephant problem.
A few years later, I wrote an article aimed at people who complain whenever te reo Māori is used on air. The piece was shared in one of those Facebook groups that’s notoriously anti-all things Māori.
The comment section did not disappoint. I was told I was too fresh off the boat. Someone else informed me I had been here five minutes and should go back to where I came from.
I am an immigrant. I am politically opinionated. And I complain.
I complain about waiting months for specialist appointments. I complain about emergency department pressures and exploding surgery waitlists. I complain about Auckland traffic when I go there. I complain about roadworks even when I know they are necessary. I complain about the lack of long-distance passenger rail. I complain when Wellington trains are cancelled. I complain about fares.
I complain about Guy Fawkes fireworks. I complain about people taking video calls in public. I complain when restaurants add sugar to otherwise succulent meals.
In short, I play my part in keeping New Zealand “whiny”- a quality an erstwhile Leader of Opposition, who later went on to become the PM, attributed to this country.
Imagine the number of “if you don’t like it here, go back where you came from” responses- spoken and unspoken- that come my way.
It is an incredibly easy line to deploy. It requires no research, no cultural or geographical nuance, and no intellectual effort. But you expect it from random people online and sometimes on the streets- people who can’t actually force me to act on their instructions. You do not expect it from a politician, especially not a high-ranking cabinet minister, who has been second-in-command and stepped in to lead the country at times.
Politics is not an attractive profession. Everyone wants good leaders, but not everyone wants to step into the ring. Standing for office means opening yourself up to scrutiny, criticism and, clearly, racial insults.
For immigrants and people of colour taking up the challenge, it comes with added difficulty levels. You are constantly questioning your place in society, working extra hard to try and fit in and justify your presence. It’s tiring.
I should think a career in politics compounds all of this. Your belief in what a society should look like and what we need to do to get there can be instantly deflated by someone who tells you you don’t belong and shouldn’t be here.
The New Zealand Parliament is diverse, and there are many sitting and recent MPs who were born overseas- the Americas, Asia, the Pacific, and, believe it or not, England.
If you started telling foreign-born politicians to go back to their country of birth every time tempers flared during Question Time, the House would start looking quite empty- something surely not even the Right Honourable Winston Peters would desire.
But beneath the absurdity of his short-lived, on-Hansard rant lies something more serious.
When someone makes this type of comment on Facebook, a moderator can delete it. At a car park on the streets, you can tell them where to go. Heck, even when Brian Tamaki says it, you can launch an investigation into his comments, his firearms or his funding.
What are we going to do about the Right Honourable? Come Monday, he will sit in a Cabinet meeting and take important decisions for the country; the coalition will still stand, and the lowly jibes will be forgotten by most when the next story breaks.
For others, it will linger.
Because it won’t be the last time we’ll be told this. Thankfully, the response remains the same. No.
Rituraj Sapkota is a communications specialist and was previously a video journalist with Whakaata Māori.
