Review: Invisible: New Zealand’s history of excluding Kiwi-Indians
Reviewed by Sudeepta Vyas
“Hawkers,” “repugnant,” “barbarian,” “infested,” “hangers on,” “parasites”…. Indians. Invisible: New Zealand’s History of excluding Kiwi-Indians, by Jacqueline Leckie, uses rare documents, pictures and stories of a forgotten people to reconstruct the travesties of migrant experience, exposing 250 years of racism.
Leckie’s writing style is expository and in spite of the challenging subject, an easy read. Her fluid narration offers equal appeal to an academic, a history student or an interested reader. She keeps this controversial subject buoyed by stories, facts and well-researched documents; lets you make your own judgement about a peace-loving ethnic group that has long been excluded, denied and beleaguered in Aotearoa. With forewords from Meng Foon, Race Relations Commissioner and Paul Patel, President NZ Indian Central Association Inc, Invisible challenges the notion of how inclusive we were and are as a country.
While not all migrant experiences have spelt “doom and gloom” and many have been lulled into contentment and assimilation, this book plays a significant role in highlighting the gaps and implies accountability.
It begins with the pattern of migration captured first with teenagers Mamouth Cassem and Nasrin (his last name was not recorded) who in 1769 arrived in Hokianga, the first recorded Indians in Aotearoa. They had crewed the French India Company ship Saint Jean-Baptiste exploring the Pacific. Other Indians jumped ships from British East India Company ships.
Then it follows the indentured workers and the pattern slowly changes in late 19th century into chain migration from Gujarat and Punjab, where one family sends back news asking other extended members and families to join them. The story of Edward Peters – “Black Peter” - stands out. Coming from Mumbai, he discovered workable gold in Otago but died a pauper.
Leckie highlights immigration restrictions conveniently imposed to keep out “undesirous” people. Successive Immigration Act whims make it easy to understand the machinations of governments to exclude the “criminal, the incurable, the Asiatic…who comes in the shadow of the sweater to crush the life out of the industry of this country…”.
Harassment extended by lawmakers and members of parliament to Indians born in New Zealand and to those who wanted to travel back home or gain re-entry. The 1914 draft of Immigration Restriction Amendment Bill, for example, set impossible language tests to qualify. This was quickly dropped once the war began and India’s cooperation was required. Leckie reveals the hatred and repugnance towards Indians by the RSA, general public and law-making forces.
The pain and humiliation continued over the next few decades and, in the 1940s, are reflected in a classroom picture where the only Indian child, Savita Ghela, sits at the far end of the picture with an expression accepting her position of an outcast.
The book gets to the heart of racism, the actions of the White New Zealand League and the Ku Klux Klan (yes, this existed here) and the seemingly innocuous measures taken to ensure white supremacy. Most propaganda was circulated through newspapers and discourses. Descendants of one of the oldest civilisations are described as “barbarians…dark skinned races…hangers on, mentally and morally incapable of real civilisation…”
In Pukekohe, where the White New Zealand league was formed, the entire package of slander, stone throwing and legislation was experienced as it was in towns in the Wairarapa and Wellington regions. The Franklin Times, for example, raised fears about a “pie-bald” nation and the dangers of the “Asiatic invasion…” who had, “no place in our homes as friends or guests’ as it would be a villainous injustice to the residents.” Protests from newly formed Indian Associations played a big role to combat exclusion.
Leckie investigates the unjust attitudes and practices to ensure Indians are denied the right to work, run a business or procure land for a living. Fuelled by support from pressure groups and politicians, racially exclusionary immigration policies thrived. Reduced to being hawkers of fruits and kitchen hands, many qualified Indians suffered the same fate as the 21st century taxi driving migrants while their medical and professional degrees gathered dust at home.
The book discusses Indian involvement, or lack of, during World War I and II. For those keen to serve, the solidarity towards New Zealand was unwelcome. Flimsy excuses, citing religious beliefs and vegetarianism, were invoked. Major General Alfred Robin, commandant of forces in New Zealand, queried Indians’ capacity for hard military labour and physical condition - despite Indians traditionally being recruited for arduous work. Some managed to get roles as cooks in spite of the “commissariat difficulties.”
Anglo Indians were exempt from such rules. The racial intolerance was confronted by the likes of Khushi Ram Kapoor in October 1916 who sent a telegram to the British Prime Minister Herbert Asquith. His actions were blocked or censored.
A few Indians did serve, before the Military Service Act was passed in 1916. There are several accounts of bravery and service, one being that of Jagat Singh’s, a decorated war hero, and another of Ratan Chand Mehra who was posthumously honoured. Discrimination continued in World War II with orders that “any Indian, Chinaman, Malayan or other Asiatic…called by ballot…is not to be medically examined or posted to a unit.”
The author says injustices continued in old-age pensions. Race was a key factor in granting old-age pension. The deliberate double standards provoked some reaction from media about “blind racial bigotry.” The First Labour Government repealed social welfare restrictions for Asians in 1936 and 1938. State financial and insurance policies didn’t fall shy of singling out Indians and Chinese. Until the 1970s, Kiwi-Indians were excluded from taking out life insurance for their children because of “the high mortality rate among Indians.”
The most direct part of Leckie’s book are her two sections on racism and exclusion, defining different types of racism that exist today through micro-assaults, micro-insults and micro-invalidations. This is a ready reckoner for Kiwis who might be completely unaware of the casual racism they may practice on a daily basis. This can be among good friends, well-meaning encounters through “discourse, jokes and casual racism towards most communities are endemic and often silenced.” Many Aotearoa-Indians will quickly identify with her descriptions.
There are some hard stories such as the well-respected Wallabh Moral of New Plymouth whose shop was referred to as “Nigger’s Corner” or Motiram Vallabh of Pukekohe who was asked to vacate his paid seat at the cinemas and denied a refund. The last section of the book provides evidence of how racism that came out of ignorance and white supremacy in the previous century is as insidious in its new avatar.
All in all, Invisible traces prejudices and inequalities that have stood the test of time since the first Indian migrant found his feet on New Zealand soil. Written in an easy to navigate style, Leckie takes readers uncomfortably close to the history of Kiwi-Indians and tells us what several generations have endured and accepted. A must read for Kiwis and Kiwi-Indians alike, if one is prepared to shed the cloak of invisibility.
Reviewed by Sudeepta Vyas