Ideologically, the editor
and contributing authors of this collection of thirteen essays on
citizenship and citizenship education have written from the perspective
of democratic pluralism. In this vision of utopia, equality trumps
liberty and group rights take precedence over individual prerogatives.
Equality itself is re-engineered as equity, a measured equality
which seeks to factor in the negative effects of historic and systemic
inequality, and then to alter the balance from the top down to ensure
fairness. The intended result is harmony and social justice for
all, and especially for new Canadians.
Implicitly understood
as the antithesis of the authors' democratic pluralism is classic
liberalism, variously described in our time as neo-liberalism (in
Europe), or neo-conservatism (in America). Individual freedom is
sacrosanct, and the ideal role for the community, as embodied in
the coercive state, is simply to ensure that personal liberty is
maximized. Equality is understood to mean equality of rights, and
equality before the law. As much as possible of human endeavour
is kept beyond the realm of state intervention. Individual citizens
are free to sink or swim, to prosper or suffer, as their own merits
dictate.
Somewhere in the middle
of these two poles is a third position: democratic liberalism. Proponents
of this perspective seek to harmonize liberty with equality, and
likewise to balance the competing claims of individuals and groups.
Rather than an either-or proposition, they see democratic citizenship
as a both-and challenge. Freedom and equality are important;
people are unique individuals and they belong to, as well
as self-identify with, a series of groups
The book begins well. Inside the front cover, an abstract identifies
two key questions as being the focus of the author team. First,
"what constitutes a 'good' citizen in today's liberal democracy"?
And second, "what social and educational policies are needed
to sustain the lives of these citizens, while not impinging on liberal
democratic principles?" (p. i). Had the book concentrated on
these two questions, had the editor imposed a disciplined structure
on her own and her colleagues' contributions, this volume would
indeed be a valued addition to the shelf.
Although the essays
seem to have been written over several years, the book in its final
form still appears to be a rushed job. On page 4 we read "Much
of the citizenship debate is concern [sic] with four dimensions
of citizenship". A few pages later we are told "only within
this century [sic] have women gained the federal vote (1918)"
(p. 7) despite the fact the book was published in 2002, well into
the 'next' century. The appendix, a well-intended chart purporting
to display a breakdown of key models of democratic citizenship,
is flawed, almost worse than useless. In the first place, it analyzes
fourteen historic governmental arrangements, far too many to be
meaningful, without providing any rationale for their inclusion.
Why was Machiavellian Florence analyzed, for example? More seriously,
factual and conceptual errors abound. The prerogatives of the Emperor
are discussed under the heading of "Roman republican model"
(p. 250). Yet the institution of Emperors signalled the death of
the quasi-democratic republic. Et tu Bruté? Edmond Burke,
famous for his liberal-conservative response to the French Revolution
of 1789, is mysteriously identified with "17th-Century England"
(p. 252).
In too many places,
the book's language is excessively turgid and jargon-ridden, serving
to exclude from understanding all but the 'inside' experts - ironic,
given the sincerely inclusionary aims of the authoring team. Here
are two examples. From the opening essay, we read that "policy
and institutional goals are marked by a range of conceptual possibilities
and affect lived Canadian realities" (p. 14). The authors appear
to be saying that, with the best of intentions, government policy
can sure mess up the lives of ordinary Canadians. Half-way through
the book, we are informed that "teachers mediated the curriculum
and could challenge official views and even generate a political
space in the classroom by using a critical alternative perspective"
(p. 122). Presumably, the author is saying that conscientious teachers
closed the classroom doors and taught their students what they needed
to learn.
Still, the verdict on
this book is only partly negative. Yvonne Hébert and a co-author,
Michel Pagé, nicely capture the overlap of history and citizenship,
in their concluding chapter. "across Canada, the teaching of
history is controversial as soon as it touches upon the face of
national identity, which is still under construction" (p. 245).
So true, despite the mixed metaphor. A very useful feature of the
book is the collective (appropriate for democratic pluralists) bibliography
at the back, which draws upon the combined sources of each author,
as cited in their individual chapter "Notes".
Predictably, the quality of the specific chapters is uneven. For
example, Veronica Strong-Bag's contribution on the struggles of
women, aboriginals and blue-collar workers is passionate, but vastly
under-estimates the significance of multiple over-lapping identities.
Romulo Magsino provides a very useful overview of three approaches
to citizenship, which he classifies as liberalism, communitarianism,
and republicanism, but how does critical pedagogy fit in? The article
by Marie Battiste and Helen Semaganis is a fascinating, if one-sided,
presentation of the hard-line First Nation perspective on treaties,
culture and citizenship. The piece by Roberta J. Russel drones on
in careful bureaucratese, piously informing us that "The focus
of citizenship education in a pluralistic society should be inclusive
and should empower everyone to participate" (p. 146). What
else could an employee of the Department of Justice say? Nevertheless,
her paper rewards a second reading, with good material on civics
and citizenship, and insightful hints as to the federal government's
role in promoting citizenship.
Harold Troper's article
provides a sound historical overview of Canadian attitudes toward,
and public policy about, the ideal of population diversity. For
something completely different, try to follow the thread of Celia
Haig-Brown's meandering post-modern musings on appropriate democratic
educational research, written as an unedited stream-of-consciousness
flow. Or not. Cecille de Pass and Shazia Qureshi capture our attention
by interspersing dramatic first-person narratives of blatant racial
discrimination into their essay, then throw it all away with a dated,
almost obscenely careless, stereotyping of the 21st -century Canadian
upper middle class as "the sectors of the population who share
an attachment to historic Anglo symbols like the Union Jack and
who became [sic] misty eyed when they hear the anthems and songs
associated with the British Empire" (p. 180). Hello! Did you
miss the great flag debate of 1964?
Only in the concluding chapter do we learn the underlying rationale
for this book. These essays represent the work of "a group
of interested researchers, decision makers and practitioners"
who "met in 1998 and developed a consensus around a pan-Canadian
research agenda in citizenship education" (p. 229). Known as
the Citizenship Education Research Network (CERN), "its primary
task is the coordination of the research efforts of the founding
members as well as of all others who wish to participate in the
process" (p. 232). In 1999, an elite "national team of
researchers" was formed with responsibility for "securing
funding" (p. 243). The mention of money brings us back to the
conundrum of the democratic state. Is it (a) the likeliest threat
to our freedom (classic liberal view), (b) the benevolent source
of both our influence and our funds (democratic pluralist position),
or (c) a two-edged sword to be watched, but wielded with cautious
purpose in the interests of liberty and equality (democratic liberal
perspective)? As every university student knows, the odds in a multiple-choice
question ride with response (c).