Why give Expats the vote?

There is nothing funny about Canadian politicians. They are a bland lot making their way (plodding their way, I should say) toward election showdown. Or is it me? I can't see the humour. The joke is on the inside, leaving the expat outside, knocking on the door.

Which may be more reason why I, and other long-term expats, have no right to line up with resident Canadians on voting day.

As a Canadian expat, do you bemoan the fact that the right to vote in a Canadian federal election has been taken away from you? Or are you even aware of the fact - never having had the inkling to vote while living abroad? There are approximately  2.8 million Canadian citizens living abroad and 1.4 million of them have lost the right to vote, as a result of a recent ruling in a Court of Appeal.

Let's take a quick look at the recent history of the expat voting debate. In 1993, a court ruled for the first time that expats living abroad for longer than five years could no longer vote in federal elections. However, the five-year clock was reset for expats who returned for even short visits. Then, in 2007, Elections Canada began to enforce a requirement for expats to resume residency in Canada in order to regain their right to vote abroad. In 2014, two Canadian expats living in the United States launched a constitutional challenge to this law restricting their right to vote. A Superior Court Justice threw out this voting ban, thus giving long-term Canadian expats the right to vote again in federal elections. However, in July of this year (2015), a Court of Appeal, in a split decision, overturned that ruling and the right to vote was taken away from long-term expats yet again.

And many Canadian expats are crying foul - among them, a number of well-known celebrities. Actor Donald Sutherland published an editorial stating that not only is he a Canadian through and through, but that he was honoured as an Officer of the Order of Canada - and yet he is not allowed to vote in Canadian elections. To stress their case, expats point to countries which do not hold such restrictions on expat voting. Poland, Venezuela, Russia and Japan provide polling stations at embassies and consulates. France and the United States allow online voting for citizens abroad. Italy and France have created members of parliament to directly represent their expats. India has even created a government ministry dedicated to its expats. But supporters of the most recent ruling argue that many countries do have similar or harsher restrictions. UK citizens cannot vote after living abroad for more than fifteen years; Australians are restricted to six years and New Zealanders to three years. Irish citizens cannot vote while living abroad at all. Nor can citizens of Zimbabwe or Nepal.

And what about Israel? We can't forget Israel - my country of abode and the other half of my split personality. You may be surprised to hear that there is no absentee voting for Israelis, unless they are in the service of the State abroad. But Israelis living abroad can return to Israel at election time to vote. And many do so. Why doesn't Israel allow Israelis living abroad to maintain their ties to the mother country through voting? Maybe they don't want to encourage the mass exodus, or they are punishing those who won't stick it out with the country through thick and thin. Perhaps it is ideology. You can choose your own conspiracy theory.

So, who do you think is right in all of this? Let's look at the reasoning behind this ruling:
Canada's social contract entails citizens submitting to laws because they had a voice in making them through voting, the ruling states.
"Permitting all non-resident citizens to vote would allow them to participate in making laws that affect Canadian residents on a daily basis but have little to no practical consequence for their own daily lives. This would erode the social contract and undermine the legitimacy of the laws," Justice George Strathy wrote for the majority of the court's judges.

I must admit that, despite my anarchistic tendencies, this makes sense. Sometimes being on the outside looking in offers a better perspective. But not here. Why should I have the right to vote on things that have little or no practical consequence for my own daily life?

"Okay then," you challenge, "why should you be able to still hold Canadian citizenship? You have lived most of your life outside of Canada. What makes you think you can still be Canadian?"

"Ah, read my blog," I want to say. But I know they won't. How do you explain it, then, to a non-believer?
"That is different," I argue. "Being Canadian is also a state of mind. Growing up in Canada is a part of who I am. You can't take that away from me. Being a Canadian is also something that I share with my children. I would like to say, "and also with my children's children," but according to a 2009 amendment to the Citizenship Law, automatic citizenship extends only to the first generation born abroad. What do I think of that? Once again, I can understand the reasoning. I just hope my legacy outlives that decision.

Are Canadian writers Canadian enough?

“Are you Canadian enough to understand?” she asked.
“That depends,” I responded. “What do you mean by enough?”
“That’s a relief,” she said. “I thought you were going to ask me what I meant by Canadian.”

John Barber, in an article entitled “Are Canadian writers Canadian enough?” (The Globe and Mail - Oct. 29, 2011), bemoans the fact that the shortlists of three major Canadian award programs, designed to recognize the best Canadian fiction of 2011, included very few books with real Canadian content. By “Canadian content”, he is referring to something that is set in Canada or has something to do with Canada and its citizens.

I guess the first question we must ask ourselves is whether a Canadian writer can be separated from Canadian fiction. Can a writer of fiction, which is not recognized as Canadian fiction, still be considered a Canadian writer? Or does he belong to something else? Perhaps he should be considered an international writer, or a universal writer. But to whom does this make any sense? We are obsessed by affiliations. If we do not clearly belong to something, do we exist?

Barber indicates that the jurors of the Canadian writing awards would defend their choices for the Canadian fiction shortlist by stating that it is enough that Canadian  writers view the world, no matter where their stories take place, through Canadian eyes.

Canadian eyes. What does this mean exactly? Have you read a book about something taking place in another part of the world and told yourself, “Now, that really sounds Canadian”? If a movie, like “Cairo time”, were to be produced by an American, rather than a Canadian, would you say that it would definitely lose its distinctive Canadian flavour? Or do you think there was a distinctive Canadian flavour there in the first place.

One of the main problems that I have with my writing is where I fit into all of this. Does a Canadian expat, who has lived for over 30 years in a foreign country, even have the right to consider himself a Canadian writer? And even if we didn’t go by content alone and applied the measure of the Canadian awards jury - could I possibly say that I still see the world through Canadian eyes, after all of this time? Where does my adopted Israeli identity come into all of this?

If I had to choose between being called an Israeli writer or a Canadian writer, I would probably choose Canadian writer, mainly because all of my formative years took place in Canada. And this part of me cannot be forgotten, no matter how deeply buried it is. But, if I were in a court of law, the evidence would weigh heavily in the other direction.

For what defines an Israeli writer? I would say that first and foremost (and I am probably going to get into a lot of hot water over this remark), Israeli writers share a siege mentality. It doesn’t matter whether they live in Israel or abroad; whether they are Jewish, Arabic, Druze or Christian... the siege mentality is there, and it works its way through their writing - whether they are trying to break free or settle in and build stronger barricades. Do I share this siege mentality also? Definitely. Did it infiltrate into my psyche after arriving here in Israel? That is where the jury is still out. Many might say that it was already built in - that this siege mentality might have been one of the reasons why I left Canada in the first place and seemed to fit into Israeli society relatively easily. If so, how does a boy who was born in a small town by Lake Ontario and grew up in a rather sterile suburb of Toronto - develop a siege mentality? You’d have to ask one of my multiple personalities, I suppose.

So why can’t I call myself an Israeli writer? I have the required siege mentality. I married an Israeli sabra. My three children were born in Israel. We speak Hebrew at home. My aggressive driving through the streets of Tel Aviv would make most Israelis proud. My university education took place in Israel and I acquired my profession here. I say "we" for Israelis and “they” for Canadians. And I only began using “eh” late in life when I wanted to still sound at least a little bit Canadian.

But I think the jury will come back with a definite “no”. Why? Simply stated... I am not Israeli enough.

Am I an expat, really?

It took me over 35 years of living in Israel before I took on the name of expat. But can I really claim this title after having lived abroad for so many years?

If it weren't for this blog, I probably wouldn’t have adopted this title even now. In my online search for similar ramblings by Canadians living abroad, I discovered the term expat (expatriate). The dictionary definition of expat is "someone living in a country that is not their own country". But this definition leads to even more questions.

What do we mean by "their own country"? Is this defined simply by citizenship? I have dual citizenship: Canadian and Israeli. Am I now a Canadian expat when living in Israel, but  an Israeli expat when living in Canada? Or maybe it is defined by which citizenship came first. In my case it was Canadian, but my children were born both Israeli and Canadian –as they were born in Israel to a Canadian father. Can they then be called Canadian "expats", even though they have never lived in Canada? And what if we had moved half a year after their birth in Israel to live permanently in Canada - which country would they then call their own?

Confusing, eh?

So, who deserves the term "expat"? And when can you begin to call yourself an expat, and when should you stop? Perhaps this all comes down to "nationality". Can nationality really be imported or exported? Take me, for example. Why should I still be considered Canadian after living abroad for over 35 years? It appears that this is exactly the type of question that Canadian legislators have recently begun to ponder. In 2009, they passed new legislation by which individuals can now become Canadian citizens by descent only if one of their parents was either a native-born citizen of Canada or a foreign-born but naturalized citizen of Canada. This new law limits citizenship by descent to one generation born outside Canada, whereas before there was no such limit. And maybe they will soon go further than this. By law, you can become a naturalized Canadian citizen after living a certain number of years in Canada. Why then shouldn't there be a law where you become a denaturalized Canadian citizen after living a certain number of years abroad? I mean – fair is fair.

Personally, I am quite happy that my children are automatically recognized as Canadian citizens, because of me. I see this as one of my better gifts to them, even though they may never end up living in Canada, and their experience of Canadian culture may only be limited to their father's nostalgic ramblings and their short visits to the mother country. One might then ask – "Do they have a Canadian identity?"

Does identity come with citizenship? And do we lose identity when we lose citizenship?

In my expatriate searches, one of the most refreshing sites that I have come across, so far, is "I was an expat wife" - http://iwasanexpatwife.com/ . Upon moving back with her family to Canada, Maria defines herself as a Canadian repatriate. This opens up a whole new Pandora's box of possibilities.

I don't know what I am. Call me what you will. In recent deliberations over a few pints of Guinness with fellow expats (not only Canadian expats), we came to the conclusion that the longer you are away, the lesser chance you have of ever finding your way back. Somewhere along the line, there is a cutoff point. The problem is: none of us ever read the fine print.