THEORY | APPLIED SOCIAL SCIENCES | CITIZENSHIP

“It is still too often the case that when we talk about such concepts as [...] ‘the citizen’, ‘civil society’, etc., we assume that we all know what the ‘it’ is that is represented by the concepts we are arguing about. [...] We still unconsciously assume that when we use a word, it means what we want it to mean, nothing more, nothing less.” (Shotter 1993:118)

The expression ‘to be a good citizen’ is part of our everyday parlance. It permeates political, social and educational dialogue with vigour, and is continuously sought as a goal for society and individuals to attain to. A working definition of citizenship can be presented as this:

“Citizenship refers not only to legal status, but also to a normative […] democratic ideal. Citizenship is intended to provide a common status and identity which helps integrate members of society.” (Concise Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy: 142)

The key words within this definition, such as ‘normative’, ‘status’, ‘identity’ and ‘integrate’, will be explored throughout this paper in different respects. Firstly, in order to define contemporary notions of citizenship, it is useful for us to attend to its original form and historical significance. However it is important not to rummage for too long amongst the literal relics of citizenship bygones, for it should only serve as a contextual introduction to the development of what we know to be ‘citizenship theory’.

Documentary evidence of the birth of citizenship in the west leads us to ancient Greece. The Athenian Model of Citizenship stems from the philosophical notion of forming order against chaos. From Aristotle’s thinking, the following factors seemed to make up ‘citizenship’:

Even at this early stage, we can begin to see that contemporary citizenship is composed in its current form from very traditional roots. Laws, governance, norms and values are features that can be found in most interpretations of democracy and citizenship, past and present.

With the expansion of Rome came new need for citizenship ideals. Its growth from small units of direct democracy to a sizable and far reaching empire brought with it a new society and greater control and regulation (Faulks 2000; Castles and Davidson 2000). Indeed, it is documented that the first signs of ‘multi-ethnic’ citizenship began to form, with the recognition of religions with equal regard. This, however, is but part of a process of imperialism. This process culminated in the Christianisation of Rome, abolishing this previous tolerance. Rome’s imperial powers, it could be argued, were supported somewhat by the mass conversion that only a ‘be like us’ citizenship idea could bring about.

We have talked about the formulation of citizenship as function of democracy. What of citizenship rights and duties? There are significant theoretical perspectives that concern the reasons behind the development of citizenship rights, with particular attention given to the reckoning behind it in the context of human relations. Giddens (1993) suggests that ‘citizenship rights’ became attributed to modern societies as governments attempted to offer bargains to placate the masses in early capitalism. Capital recognised its own dependency on the strength of the economy and thus it recognised the importance of labour being available to capital (Faulks 2000). In the realisation of citizenship ‘rights’, social change could be more effectively managed, and clashes between ruling and working classes averted. But it was not necessarily a process that Capital instigated. It is Giddens’ opinion that:

“The struggles of labour movements to improve the general economic conditions of the working class, and to realise ‘citizenship rights’, have helped profoundly to alter the characteristics of the capitalist societies of the West.” (Giddens 1993:255)

Thus, Giddens asserts that citizenship rights gained credence as a result of social struggles: clearly this approach recognises the value of Marxist critique. We can also locate this theory with cases such as the suffragette movement’s successful campaign for the vote. However, Faulks (2000) argues that it is not as clear-cut and that one sweeping statement cannot apply to citizenship development in every case. As well as social struggles playing a significant factor, he suggests other possible considerations such as the importance of an underpinning ideology behind the development of citizenship. Liberal universalism and socialism have defined how countries have implemented varying degrees of citizenship rights. For example, in countries where socialism is more recognisable, there are a greater degree of public services (Ibid: 26-28).

“Citizenship has almost universal appeal. Radicals and conservatives alike feel able to utilize the language of citizenship […] because [it] contains both individualistic and collectivist elements.” (Faulks 2000:1)

Having explored some of the history and development of citizenship, it is now time to examine where citizenship fits within the current political and social agenda. If we understand that much of youth work responds to agendas, and that these agendas frame the context within which youth work operates, then we must trace why educators are now talking about citizenship within both the informal and formal discourse.

As Faulks (2000) notes, citizenship does have wide appeal. It is easily located amongst a range of ideological positions, thus it is used in the language of all political parties. In an attempt to summarise, I shall explore some perspectives from both the left and the right.

Margaret Thatcher and her New Right project emphasised, above everything else, the individual when discussing citizenship:

“There is no such thing as society […] its our duty to look after ourselves and then also to look after our neighbour. People have got entitlements too much in mind without the obligations.” (Thatcher, cited in Dorrell 2001:2)

This emphasis, essentially that people were taking more than they were giving – particularly with regard to the welfare state, underpinned the drive behind the New Right’s slash and burn of public services that pervaded political policy from the 1970s to the present day. Rhetorically, the New Right praises the notion of a helping hand to fellow citizens, but in the guise of ‘charity’ (Widdicombe 2001; Dorrell 2001). The belief is that citizens get themselves into situations that they should not then blame on ‘society’.

Arguably the central feature of New Right philosophy is based upon the individual creation of wealth. Perhaps somewhat bizarrely, Ann Widdicombe, in her interpretations of citizenship, makes a link between the parable of the Good Samaritan and the importance of:

“Creating wealth. The Samaritan had to have the money…[and] what a good job it was, from the point of view of the victim, that the Good Samaritan was not making a journey on foot. There is nothing wrong, therefore, with the accumulation of wealth and with obtaining consumer goods – these days a car, those days a beast.” (Widdicombe 2001:97-98)

In essence, Widdicombe blends those ideas of charity to the weak, and creating wealth. Thus we can assume that a citizen is someone with financial responsibility and a good heart. The impact of the New Right can be seen in most of European and North American approaches to welfare and rights.

The Left has transformed since the 1992 Labour election defeat, an event that caused the party to rethink its image, and its policies. Whereas the language of left was clear-cut, it is now doused in rhetorical notions not unlike those found within the discourse of the Right. However, there are some notable differences.

The left sees responsible citizens as an essential component of a successful social democratic project in the UK. This responsible citizen will participate in social life with democratic powers, affirmed through bottom up decision-making (Giddens 1998). This take upon political involvement suggests an alignment with much of the left’s thinking in terms of rethinking the concept of ‘the community’.

Another stark reason for a political rethink around citizenship stems from the worrying patterns of voting behaviour amongst people, and particularly young people (Giddens 2000:22). Seeing this decline as a threat to democracy, the government is taking action to invigorate a sense of duty amongst its young. It could be suggested that this is plaster therapy, compelling people to address their own disengagement rather than examine the structure of democracy in society. Furthermore, it automatically suggests that those who do not vote do not realise the importance of ‘the vote’.

There are similar threads within this thinking and in the thinking of the New Right when concerned with charity. Rather than an attempt to address systems and structures in a radical, expansive way, less effort can be used to address personal behaviour through ideology. And herein lies the problem: for ideology is a very instructive instrument and not necessarily able to adapt to change – no matter how much rhetoric is devoted to suggesting the contrary.

Ultimately, the desire of left social democratic theorists is to see a set of ‘empowering’ rights and duties – the qualities that make up a strong, united and engaged political community (Held 1994:56-58). To what degree this is being implemented is certainly up for debate, and I raise some of my own concerns later on. However, few can deny that these ideals are with us in policy and practice.

Undoubtedly, there is much of a crossover when discussing both left and right positions on the matter of citizenship. The literature indicates a great emphasis on responsible behaviour, the promotion of rights and a common law. Additional features can be found within the different political interpretations, but the definitions are certainly not polarised.

This political impetus leads us to citizenship instruction in the formal education system. From September 2002, the subject will be a central curriculum feature of all secondary schools. And in informal education, youth workers are no strangers to the encouragement of citizenship, whether in the language and goals of empowerment and social inclusion work (Huskins 1998) or in a more general description of what we aim to do as practitioners (see, for example, Wylie 2001).

The Department for Education and Skills has prepared guidance for the content of citizenship curriculum work in schools. They see schools as instrumental in teaching young people citizenship education based on three defining factors:

In theory, these principles appear to be just what the doctor ordered, so to speak. Three standards aimed at reinvigorating a sense of community and social literacy amongst young people – the very standards youth workers claim to have worked towards since the inception of our profession. However, many questions should be raised about the nature of teaching. It seems strange to me that a programme aimed at invigorating democratic thinking and action should be structured alongside the ‘normal’ curriculum, within normal boundaries. What level of participation will young people have in the institutions within which they will learn how to be democratic? How will learning be geared towards those participants to truly bring life to the experience of citizenship studies? As with the plaster therapy of the New Right and the Left, citizenship education could well be an attempt to address the behaviour of people without radically altering economic and social systems that impact upon their lives. Schools, and indeed the method of teaching, will not necessarily change.

If, as mentioned above, youth and community workers have always promoted the concept of active citizenship, they should be no strangers to this new emphasis from central government and funding agencies. Taking the view that youth and community work is receiving more attention in terms of opportunity (Connexions, New Deal, Standards Fund, etc.) and regulation (Best Value, OFSTED, etc.), we could assume that with it comes a new impetus to promote social inclusion and citizenship. There is certainly more alignment with quasi-welfare, and youth and community workers will find themselves in a drive to meet imposed targets.

“Adopting conservative ideologies and the assimilationist model of ‘race relations’ […] in the current climate amounts to little more than disavowal of Black cultural identity and any notion of Black empowerment” (Carrington 2000:151)

A report commissioned written by the Runnymede Trust explored ‘multi-ethnic Britain’. In the report, suggested models of public culture were presented. One model offered was the nationalist view of culture: a civil society that promotes a single national culture. All those who adhere to it are accepted, and all those who do not or cannot, are considered second-class citizens (Parekh et al: 2000). History shows us that this view can be found within the expansion of the Roman Empire, through to the New Right philosophies of the 1980s.

In essence, this nationalist perspective excludes groups from full citizenship. Let us examine the concept of equal rights for citizens. The many rights associated, for example, with marriage exclude gay, lesbian and bisexual couples (Bamforth 1997). Women have long been excluded even if they are considered full citizens (Phillips 2000) or excluded from political participation in universal interpretations (Faulks 2000). If we turn our attention to the complexities of ‘race’, we see a great thread of exclusions that operate within the framework of citizenship.

“Three years ago racism was regarded as the problem. Now, once again, the very existence of Britain's ethnic minorities is becoming the problem. The right of Muslims to live in this country has been openly questioned and is regularly qualified. […] Blunkett appears to have either misunderstood, or just plain missed, the debates on race, nationality and ethnicity that have been taking place for the past 20 years.” (Younge 2002)

Whether it is ministerial language or public policy, little has been learnt from the lessons of history and the developments of public discussion about racism following the publication of The Stephen Lawrence Enquiry[i]. Or, to put it another way, whilst this government seemingly operates against institutional racism, it openly promotes it with its immigration and asylum policies (Fekete 2001; Sivanandan 2001). This, together with a startling lack of insight with regards to the uprisings in Bradford, Oldham and other places last summer, provokes me to examine the crisis of racism that is with us – a crisis that hinders us from proper debates about citizenship.

Faulks (2000) argues that citizenship is by default racialised and gendered. The inability of citizenship as an idea to be separated from ‘nation’ and ‘state’ ensure that it occupies a nationalist perspective as described above. As such, the underpinning idea that citizenship can be used to measure or judge those both inside and outside ‘the borders’ is still a prevalent feature. It assumes a ‘them and us’ mentality. Thus, contemporary language in the political discourse desires further integration on the part of those coming to Britain, and a commandment of those who are already here. It views the world from a monocultural perspective. Furthermore, it is my assertion that citizenship, rather than being a tool of liberation is a tool of control.

Ideology undoubtedly underpins the drive to encourage citizenship, but there is a problem here, as:

“Ideology functions to convince [us] that the ideas it offers are timeless and ahistorical; that is to say, they have always been and always will be. Different aspects of our everyday culture are […] experienced in this way.” (Schirato & Yell 2000:72)

Ideology, it seems, is incompatible with the fluid and changing shape of identity. And, it could be argued; the same is true of the citizenship debate.

Why have I introduced the word identity here? For the three years that I have been studying to become a youth and community worker, together with the more recent months of analysing citizenship, I have continuously found links in the literature between identity and good community relationships or shared values. If we assume that citizenship rights and duties are concerned with both the latter two facets, then we should also assume that citizenship is equally concerned with identity. Indeed, research undertaken suggests that identity is one of the five common features of citizenship. Cogan and Derricott (2000) suggest that:

“A sense of national identity and patriotism is usually seen as an essential ingredient of citizenship.” (Ibid: 3)

Certainly citizens should have a sense of belonging, and in the eyes of many commentators it would naturally follow that there should be a sense of patriotism. However, one is not talking about simple borderlines; globalisation has ended much of the concept of ‘national belonging’. And there is more for those who are torn between loyalties. Ben Carrington (2000), amongst others, has written about the double consciousness of Black British citizens. He refers to two sports stars, Linford Christie and Frank Bruno and provides us with a critical analysis of the level of their involvement in ‘being’ British. The critique helps us to understand how those who migrate feel themselves with a double sense of loyalty. Franz Fanon (1986) wrote with both anger and frustration for the Black man who finds he never fully catches up with the White man in an attempt to emulate him, and in the process abandons his ‘Blackness’. Frank Bruno embodies all of the things that are assumed to be, essentially, part of the English culture. He celebrates the work of Thatcher, advertises HP sauce and denies the existence of racism. Linford Christie, a brilliant sports star, however, is criticised for being vocal about racism in sport. He is seen as someone out to cause trouble.

I have already chosen to locate the Stephen Lawrence Enquiry within this discussion and to suggest that the Labour government has taken on board the recommendations and welcomed its findings. However, a look at the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority guidance for citizenship curricula reveals a startling lack of emphasis on anti-racist education, something that even the Citizenship Foundation admits (Citizenship Foundation 2001). Shahid Ashrif (2002) takes the discussion further still, suggesting that citizenship discussions have further alienated Black and Asian communities with unwelcome advice about marriage, immigration and so on. His examples of the ideology of the West as the starting point for judging citizenship, democracy and ‘civilised’ suggest a lot of self-assessment needed on our parts before we can advocate preaching our values to the world.

There is language of social control and nationalist perspectives on issues such as culture. No person can seriously contest that Britain has been acknowledged as multi-cultural. However, this is an empty concept if governments attempt to exclude, and regulate culture to the private sphere.

Returning to the Parekh Report (2000), we can see that there are essential components to ensuring a society that is fair and just. Whilst recognition of culture and a celebration of diversity are undoubtedly important, if racism is not overtly acknowledged and tackled – we cannot move to a place where everyone has respect for one another.

I find myself asking some questions: how serious is a project aimed at ‘change’ when it ignores fundamental concerns expressed with regard to ‘race’ and racism? A citizenship curriculum that celebrates the exotic delights of multiculturalism without tackling the sad and angry realties of racism is prone to failure. Therefore, how can we be citizens before stabilising our identity?

And it is how we define ourselves in modern Britain where the answer lies to these questions. It is futile to suggest that previous models of ‘race relations’ have been effective (See Ashrif’s 2001 analysis). Nationalist perspectives that have, for so long, underpinned how we determine the cultural identity of Britain have failed us all. We have discord in communities not because we do not understand each other, but because we are educated to demonise, and label ‘others’

Our failure is not in our (in) ability to understand others. Nor is it our ability to recognise Britain is diverse. It is whether we accept this as the norm, rather than assuming that it is still possible to suggest one, timeless culture and a plethora of additional cultures that are glued to the edges.

As a culture, as a people – Britain simply seems incapable of understanding itself. We are not the White, polite and country loving monarchists that seem to define us in tradition. We are three countries devolved, with our hands still grubbily holding onto our former empire. Our sense of imperialism may have legally ended, but it is still very much in our consciousness.

In order to bring this essay to a close, it is important to form both a conclusive commentary and an agenda for the future. I find myself with two questions: How will I begin to conceptualise citizenship in my future personal and professional thinking? How will this renewed thinking impact upon my future practice?

State youth and community workers, and to a large extent those in the voluntary sector, are those charged with delivering on the word of government. The desire of this government to push the agenda for citizenship through its various policies and reforms will have an impact upon the nature of youth work. Kerry Young’s (1999) book The Art of Youth Work seeks to defend a philosophical base in youth work:

“The purpose of youth work is to engage with young people in the process of moral philosophising, through which they make sense of themselves and the world. Not as a side effect […] but as the essential foundation.” (Young 1999:120)

Many youth workers would take comfort in, and proudly associate themselves with Young’s stance. However, the prescriptive nature of citizenship education and how youth workers will seek to reinforce what is presented in the formal education environment contradicts the notion of ‘making sense of the world.’ It suggests that the world is this, and that educators will explain and learners will accept.

What then do we do with the philosophical base of youth work? The first of our dilemmas occur when we chose to align ourselves with the drive for citizenship as it stands.

The government, it seems, operates with two hands – one that guides us, and the other that incites us. In the one breath comes a moving commitment to global economic and social justice by the Prime Minister, thus a nod towards true global citizenship. Then, just a few months later, a Minister discusses his displeasure at arranged marriages amongst Britain’s Asian community, calling for better integration on the part of ‘The Others’.

Whither the practice amongst all of this? My thinking is of clarity on this issue – citizenship is laced with inconsistency. Furthermore, if attached to nationalism, it is a tool for control and oppressive by definition; those with citizenship can command allegiance from those without it. Those without it can protest, but suffer the consequences.

All that said it is still worth an analysis and a rethink about the role of youth and community development work in this renewed dialogue. We claim our identity as educators fostering democracy (Jeffs and Smith 1999) who make possible both critical thinking and moral philosophy (Young 1999), but there are appalling gaps – we need only ask where youth and community development was at during recent disturbances in Bradford and Oldham. There is a danger that future practice will allow the replication of these events. After all, civic duty (according to the Home Secretary) requires a command of English and allegiance to the crown. It would therefore be community centres, and ultimately community workers who would see this as their principle role.

For sure, language and communication are important factors for good community relationships. This, however, should be used not as a scapegoat exercise, for it is fundamentally racist. It assumes the problem of not integrating rests with Black British citizens – educated in English and cultured day and night in British custom, entertainment, values and so on. The suggestion is that Asians must get to grips with the British way of life and demonstrate their loyalty. There is nothing new or innovative about this thinking; it is just the same old racism that works in a circular fashion, ignorant of lessons from history. It is the new cricket test.

Youth and community development should seize the opportunity of citizenship education as something of a tool for change. True pluralism recognises a concept of interchange amongst communities of all kinds, cultures, types and interests. It also recognises that identity is a fluid, forever-changing concept and one that cannot be boxed into a neat package, nor used as a defence against progress. Paul Gilroy (2000) calls for a more realistic approach to identity and one that recognises that we don’t need to creep around, clinging to tradition in order to defend our value as human beings.

There are, it seems, two ways to imagine Britain in the future. One is a continuation of our current approach to public culture, a strange acknowledgment of multi-culturalism as an addition to the normal English way of life (whatever that may be). The second is one where we transcend this sense of tradition and move into a thinking that says: “We are British. To be British requires us to recognise that we are of several different social groups, and that their cultures and qualities fuse.” I should state that this is not assimilation, nor is it separation.

Therefore, any attempt to bring citizenship into future youth work practice could, and indeed should seek to foster opportunities for allowing communities to define themselves. The anti-oppressive emphasis in our work should allow discussion and debate and a framework is offered here:

My argument is that we should resist toeing the government line on implementing the citizenship project per se, despite the luxurious opportunity for increased funding and resource opportunity it may bring. We should, as workers, regain our roots in communities to argue for the multiplicity of qualities that members can bring to the concept of global citizenship.

Moreover, although Britain seems to have a concrete hatred of all things that relate to immigration, we must recognise that globalisation is upon us. Citizenship has a new meaning in this new age – state, monarchy, borders all seem to be less relevant in this new world social, political and economic order. Isolationist thought is laughable against such a rising tide of potential world co-operation. We should employ models of work that locate our individual selves within local and global settings, setting a new frame for people to think about their actions and their identity (Chauhan 2002).

I must take a step back though – as I fear Melvyn Bragg’s warning will come to fruition. The unmatched potential of a country acknowledging its pluralism should not take us off into dreamland!

Britain is a wonderful country to be a part of, but I frequently malign it as inward looking with collective myopia. As the concept of citizenship becomes a major part of discourse, so should dissent and freethinking. Those who have been quiet, or who have only spoken through rebellion and rebuke, can stand collectively and call for their own version of what citizenship could be.

Youth and community development is best placed to foster this process and to formalise the angst, joy, frustration and hope of the communities that it is charged with serving. Surely, with such a renewed debate around citizenship, there has never been a better time to open up such a process.

I am extremely grateful to a number of people who shared their views and experiences through interviews and groups for this project. However, I have not included their contributions in this online essay as I have not yet sought their permission and would not have wanted to presume consent. JW

[i] Following the murder of Black teenager Stephen Lawrence and the determined courage of his parents to secure justice, an enquiry was carried out and reported on, identifying institutional racism throughout the public services. The government has been praised for welcoming, and acting upon, the enquiry’s recommendations.