Citizenship Reparations Address the Symptoms but not the Whole System of Colonial Entanglements
Nikitha Aithal (Te Herenga Waka – Victoria University of Wellington), Helena Cook (Te Whare Wānanga o Waitaha – University of Canterbury), Marnie Lloydd (Te Herenga Waka – Victoria University of Wellington), and Julija Sardelić (Te Herenga Waka – Victoria University of Wellington)
In their introductory contribution, David Owen and Rainer Bauböck examine a growing trend of (primarily European) countries offering reparative citizenship as an inter-generational ‘remedy’ for their grave historical wrongdoings. They open a thought-provoking debate on the consequences of countries offering facilitated citizenship acquisition not only to directly affected individuals (as in the case of citizenship restoration) but also to descendants living outside the country’s territory. Owen and Bauböck question the role of reparative citizenship in addressing historical injustice and its impact on membership. They show that, in practice, some descendants who remain a part of negatively racialised and marginalised communities, like Roma, have difficulties accessing citizenship as reparation (also discussed by Reinhard Schweitzer and Tina Magazzini). Some others, like the descendants of Herero and Nama victims of the genocide perpetrated by German troops in Namibia in 1904-08, have not been offered citizenship as reparation at all. Several subsequent contributions discuss whether citizenship as reparation could address past colonial injustices in Global North countries (Jocelyn Kane and Patti Lenard, Timothy Jacob-Owens) as well as citizenship deprivation and statelessness in the Global South (Christoph Sperfeldt).
In this contribution, we argue that both citizenship restoration and citizenship as reparation can address symptoms of historical injustices, but not necessarily their systemic nature, which makes their effects continue to the present day. To illustrate this argument, we discuss the colonial settings in the Pacific region (geopolitically comprising both Global North and Global South countries), highlighting the 2024 citizenship restoration for Sāmoans who had their New Zealand citizenship revoked in the 1980s. While citizenship restoration was a reason for celebration for many, activists from the Sāmoan community highlighted that this was either only a first step (the next step being citizenship as reparation for descendants) and/or that the historical injustices should be addressed in a more comprehensive manner (e.g. through access to socio-economic rights previously taken away or compensation for previous injustices).
In a more general sense, this case shows that the former and current colonial entanglements complicate the question of citizenship-based membership. It also highlights, as Kane and Lenard similarly do, that any redress of historical injustice needs to consider the positions of the Indigenous communities affected by colonisation. In some cases, the communities might have valid reasons to refuse citizenship as reparations, while in others, activists may underline the tangible claims communities have to dual citizenship and/or other different forms of reparation.
Sāmoans: from British subjects to unrecognised New Zealand citizens
New Zealand and Sāmoa share an entangled colonial history but also relationships that go beyond colonial settings. From the beginning of the 20th Century to the First World War (WWI), Sāmoa was colonised by Germany. In 1914, during WWI, New Zealand troops seized Sāmoa from Germany and colonised it as a ‘great and urgent Imperial service’ to the British Empire. In 1920, the League of Nations entrusted New Zealand (a British Dominion at the time) to continue with the colonial administration of ‘Western Sāmoa’ as a ‘Class C Mandate’, i.e. as territories “best administered under the laws of the mandatory as integral portions of its territory”. New Zealand’s colonial rule over Western Sāmoa continued even after New Zealand gained statutory independence in 1947 (while retaining the British Monarch as its Head of State) and the League of Nations was dismantled. New Zealand’s rule ended only in 1962 upon Sāmoa’s independence.
In 1918, New Zealand brought and mismanaged the flu pandemic, which killed approximately 20 per cent of the Sāmoan population. New Zealand also violently suppressed the anti-colonial pro-independence Mau movement, including the 1929 deadly incident called ‘Black Saturday’. In 2002, then Prime Minister Helen Clark apologised to Sāmoa for the injustices committed during New Zealand’s colonial rule.
In 1948, New Zealand, now an independent settler-colonial state with significant Indigenous Māori population (and a Treaty signed in 1840 with Māori chiefs, albeit violated countless times by the State), introduced the British Nationality and New Zealand Citizenship Act 1948. Prior to this Act, people born in New Zealand territory or otherwise naturalised were considered British subjects. The 1948 Act now recognised these British subjects (including those of the Cook Islands, Niue and Tokelau) as New Zealand citizens. Because Western Sāmoa was not part of the British Empire previously, its population were not British subjects in 1920 when it became a mandate territory. Subsequent New Zealand legislation from the 1920s allowed Sāmoans to become naturalised British subjects. However, despite New Zealand’s 1948 Act explicitly mentioning Western Sāmoa, some uncertainty persisted for decades about the status of Western Sāmoans in these laws and in their interpretation, especially where Sāmoans had not actually formally naturalised (McMillan and Hood). In practice, especially after Sāmoa’s independence, Sāmoans were generally treated as migrants in New Zealand rather than British subjects or New Zealand citizens until the 1982 Privy Council Decision, discussed below, clarified the legal status of Western Sāmoans as citizens under New Zealand law.
Racism against Pasifika communities in New Zealand: from Dawn Raids to citizenship revocation
Due to the economic boom after WWII, New Zealand invited people from the Pacific Islands to work in New Zealand to fill labour shortages (strikingly resembling the ‘invitation’ the Windrush generation received from the UK, discussed by Jacob-Owens). As recognised New Zealand citizens, people from the Cook Islands, Tokelau and Niue were able to move to New Zealand freely. New agreements signed with Sāmoa, Tonga and Fiji in the early 1960s allowed their citizens to come under short-term work permits (Macpherson). While this labour force from the Pacific strengthened the New Zealand economy, the ‘migrant workers’ were largely seen as temporary, with no promise of future New Zealand citizenship.
By the early 1970s, after the global oil crisis and the UK joining the European Economic Community limited New Zealand exports, New Zealand faced an economic downfall and growing unemployment. Successive New Zealand governments focused on crime and immigration as voter touchpoints. New Zealand-born Sāmoan Professor Melani Anae commented on ‘racial tension and unrest as police and immigration authorities victimised Pacific Islanders they suspected of abusing the terms of their visas’. Most overstayers were, in fact, British or American, but police actions targeted Pacific people. The New Zealand Government introduced stop and search of Pacific people who had to prove their legal rights to be in New Zealand. Police also raided Pacific churches and other community spaces. The infamous ‘Dawn Raids’ on houses of suspected Pacific overstayers remains a shameful part of New Zealand’s history. Sāmoan activists challenged the practice of Dawn Raids with a claim that New Zealand was also deporting its citizens.
Privy Council Redress and Subsequent Citizenship Revocation in 1980s
In July 1982, Falema’i Lesā, a Sāmoan living and working in New Zealand beyond the expiry of her temporary permit, successfully challenged her status as an overstayer. The UK-based Privy Council (New Zealand’s then highest appellate court) determined that because Western Sāmoa had been under New Zealand’s administration, people born there between 1924 and 1948 were British subjects for the purposes of New Zealand’s law, specifically its British Nationality and Status of Aliens (in New Zealand) Act 1928, and therefore became New Zealand citizens under New Zealand’s 1948 Act mentioned above. Thus, Lesā, and other Sāmoans in similar circumstances, together with their descendants, had to be considered New Zealand citizens. It was estimated that this would apply to approximately 100,000 Sāmoans (over three-fifths of the Sāmoan population).
In response, the New Zealand Government swiftly enacted the Citizenship (Western Samoa) Act 1982, effectively overturning the Privy Council decision and New Zealand’s earlier laws. The 1982 Act granted citizenship only to a limited set of Western Sāmoans living in New Zealand in September 1982 (or who had the right of permanent residence), but otherwise removed the possibility of recognition of citizenship of Sāmoans. Indeed, people to whom the Act applied were ‘deemed never to have been a New Zealand citizen’. While some commentators felt the Privy Council decision was fair given the laws as enacted, others felt that the decision gave insufficient consideration to the historical, constitutional and international legal relationships between New Zealand and Sāmoa, producing an ‘unintended result’. Likewise, while some found the 1982 Act reasonable, especially as Western Sāmoa attained independent statehood in 1962, others continued to declare it indisputable that thousands of New Zealand citizens lost their citizenship by the passing of the 1982 Act.
The act of citizenship revocation was a move that many in the Sāmoan communities in New Zealand and Sāmoa immediately protested as racial discrimination negating Sāmoans’ contributions to New Zealand’s economy, culture and society. Some Sāmoan researchers argued it created a particularly disturbing consequence: those Sāmoans who had complied with wrongful deportation orders had their citizenship revoked, while those who had stayed in New Zealand remained citizens (Kerslake). It also negated Indigenous understandings of belonging that do not necessarily neatly align with the Westphalian nation-state idea but put kinship and community in the forefront (Sa’iliemanu Lilomaiava-Doktor). This and the fact that there is almost as large of a Sāmoan community in New Zealand as in Sāmoa, explains the communities’ overwhelming support for dual citizenship both today and in the past. As Anna Dziedzic argues: ‘dual citizenship does appear to be one way to recognise in law distinctive Indigenous connections between individuals, place and community’.
The governing National Party at the time argued that, had New Zealand proactively granted citizenship as the Privy Council decision implied, any such new law would have been regarded by the government and people of Western Sāmoa as an unfriendly act towards a sovereign and independent State. It also argued that Sāmoan citizenship law at the time did not usually allow for dual citizenship (dual citizenship is explicitly allowed in Sāmoa’s new Citizenship Act of 2004). Yet Western Sāmoa did not take such a public stance at the time due to the inherent political sensitivities of the issue. (Moreover, Sāmoan communities were overwhelmingly against citizenship revocation.) Western Sāmoa did, however, sign an August 1982 Protocol to the 1962 Treaty of Friendship agreed between New Zealand and Western Sāmoa, which New Zealand’s 1982 Act then implemented. Nevertheless, as some scholars argued, New Zealand negotiated this Protocol with Western Sāmoa ‘somewhat forcefully’ (Brookfield) and not necessarily with genuine concern for Sāmoa as an independent State. Certainly, Sāmoan communities argued that the New Zealand Government at the time rushed the 1982 Act without proper consultation with the communities affected. Both in New Zealand and abroad, Sāmoan communities protested the passing of the Act immediately in 1982 and, in 2003, they petitioned Parliament with around 90,000 signatures to uphold the initial Privy Council decision.
The 2024 Citizenship Restoration Law and the Responses of the Sāmoan Communities
For the Sāmoan communities, both in Sāmoa and in New Zealand, the 1982 Act remained a source of unease and regret. This was because of the strong connections they had to both Sāmoa and New Zealand, with 205,557 in Sāmoa and 182,721 Sāmoans in New Zealand (according to the most recently available census data). The 2021 New Zealand government apology for the Dawn Raids highlighted ongoing trauma around migration and citizenship of Pacific peoples in New Zealand. Sāmoan activists requested that New Zealand citizenship be granted to not only those affected by the 1982 Act, but also to their descendants. Many from the Sāmoan community believed that the passing of legislation to restore citizenship was about justice and fairness; it was also seen to be linked to acknowledgement by New Zealand governments of past injustices towards Pacific communities, such as the Dawn Raids apology and the 2002 Government apology to Sāmoa.
After decades-long activism by the Sāmoan communities, the New Zealand Parliament unanimously passed the Citizenship (Western Sāmoa) (Restoration) Amendment Act 2024. The 2024 Act amended the 1982 Act and other relevant legislation, enabling people whose citizenship was removed by the 1982 Act to apply for New Zealand citizenship as of right. Green Party MP Teanau Tuiono, who introduced this legislation as a private member’s bill, stated that the “passage of this bill is a milestone in addressing historical injustices, acknowledging intergenerational harm, and fostering accountability for past actions”. There was widespread acknowledgement during the 2024 parliamentary debates that the 1982 Act was discriminatory (which seemed like a 180-degree turn from the 1982 parliamentary debates), and that through the 2024 Act, New Zealand citizenship would be rightfully reclaimed and restored to those who should not have lost this right in the first place.
The New Zealand Parliament overwhelmingly supported the Bill by the end as it was framed in the language of citizenship restoration for solely those affected by the 1982 Act. Whilst the 2024 Act was welcomed and celebrated in the Sāmoan community in New Zealand, it fell short of providing full redress. First, the restoration of citizenship rights came too late, as many of the affected Sāmoans had since died. Second, the 2024 Act did not grant New Zealand citizenship to descendants of those affected by the 1982 Act, which would have increased the number of people affected to roughly 15,000 – 19,000. Former diplomat Nigel Allardyce described the Act as equivalent to a person whose house is stolen and returned but who must then pay to claim it back and cannot leave it to their children. He argued that full, unconditional citizenship should be given back to the roughly 100,000 affected Sāmoans and subsequently to their descendants. Third, the Act does not address the historical and ongoing challenges facing Sāmoans in New Zealand as well as Sāmoans in Sāmoa. Several activists from the Sāmoan community commented that even if restorative or reparative citizenship would be applied, it would not fully address ongoing racism towards the Pacific communities in New Zealand, including many from the Sāmoan community who live in poverty and are still paid significantly less for the same work than others in New Zealand. Similarly, immigration hurdles, such as costly visas and slow processing times, and restrictive residency quotas, persist for many Sāmoans seeking to visit or reunite with their loved ones in New Zealand. These activists supported that the current citizenship restoration measures, or even potential future reparations, should give them access to the previous rights they would have had as citizens in the period (such as access to pensions, health care, freedom of movement, equal employment opportunities, and more affordable housing) had they not been deprived of their citizenship.
Conclusion
The debate around citizenship restoration for Sāmoans (and possible reparative citizenship) has underscored that colonial entanglements significantly impact who should be considered as a member based on citizenship in the current nation-state settings, which do not necessarily align with the Indigenous understandings of belonging. While in the case of Canada, as described by Kane and Lenard, some Indigenous activists refuse citizenship, in the case of Aotearoa New Zealand, the Parliament in 1982 refused the right of Sāmoans to be recognised as New Zealand citizens despite the communities both in Sāmoa and New Zealand advocating to retain it. In neither case were the communities in question at the forefront of the debates about citizenship and colonial injustice. The relationship between New Zealand and Sāmoa was a colonial one, but the relationship of the Sāmoan communities with Aotearoa New Zealand goes beyond mere colonial settings. Pacific connections and migration, as well as the understandings of relations between land and ocean, predate both the current understandings of the nation-states and membership, as many Pacific scholars argue.
At the same time, the question remains whether even citizenship as reparation would address the historical injustices created by New Zealand’s colonisation of Sāmoa and subsequent racism towards the Sāmoan community in Aotearoa New Zealand. Given the vast implications of colonialism, addressing previous citizenship revocation by citizenship restoration, and even reparation for descendants, merely acknowledges the symptoms rather than the whole system of historical injustice. There is a long road ahead for such historical injustice to be fully addressed.