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OXFORD CONSTITUTIONAL THEORY

Series Editors:
Martin Loughlin, John P. McCormick, and Neil Walker
The Cultural Defense of Nations
OXFORD CONSTITUTIONAL THEORY

Series Editors:
Martin Loughlin, John P. McCormick, and Neil Walker

Oxford Constitutional Theory has rapidly established itself as the


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The Cultural Defense of Nations
A Liberal Theory of Majority Rights

Liav Orgad
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For my father
Eliyahu (Eli) Orgad
1953–2005
Abstract

The changing patterns of global immigration have initiated a new


form of majority nationalism. In recent years, liberal democracies
have introduced an increasing number of immigration and
naturalization policies that are designed to defend the majority
culture. This trend is fed by fears of immigration—some justified,
some paranoid—which explain the rise of extreme right-wing parties
in the West. Liberal theory and human rights law seem to be out of
sync with these developments. While they recognize the rights of
minority groups to maintain their cultural identity, it is typically
assumed that majority groups have neither a need for similar rights
nor a moral basis for defending them. The majority culture, so the
argument goes, “can take care of itself.” This book shifts the focus
from the prevailing discussion of minority rights and, for the first
time, directly addresses the cultural rights of majorities. The findings
reveal a troubling trend in liberal democracies, which, ironically, in
order to protect liberal values, violate the very same values. The
book criticizes this state of affairs and presents a liberal theory of
“cultural defense” that distinguishes between justifiable and
unjustifiable attempts by majorities to protect their cultural
essentials. It formulates liberal standards by which liberal states can
welcome immigrants without fundamentally changing their cultural
heritage, forsaking their liberal traditions, or slipping into extreme
nationalism.
Acknowledgments

I have always looked forward to writing the acknowledgements part


of the book yet now, as I begin work on it, I am at a loss for words
realizing how many individuals and institutions assisted me in this
endeavor. During the years in which this book took shape, I was
privileged to obtain the help of many friends and colleagues who
inspired my thinking on issues pertinent to this topic. Ideas grow
and develop over time and it is almost impossible to pinpoint all the
people whose sage advice and guidance have made the book
possible. Acknowledgements, however detailed, are a poor medium
by which to express my heartfelt thanks for the support I have
received.
Writing this book would have never been possible without the
immense help that I have been fortunate enough to receive from
friends, colleagues, and students, whose thoughtful discussions and
excellent suggestions benefited me at different stages of the
research. I owe a great intellectual debt to David Abraham, Shlomo
Avineri, Keith Banting, Aharon Barak, Daphne Barak-Erez, Jürgen
Bast, Linda Bosniak, Joseph Chamie, Mishael Cheshin, David
Coleman, Noah Feldman, Monique Foudraine, Ruth Gavison, Anne
Gladitz, Dieter Grimm, Malachi Hacohen, Kay Hailbronner, Dora
Kostakopoulou, Shay Lavie, Natan Lerner, Stephen Macedo, Avishai
Margalit, Michele Manspeizer, Martha Minow, Noah Pickus, Yoram
Rabin, Guy Raveh, Daphné Richemond-Barak, Rahel Rimon, Adam
Shinar, Jennifer Shkabatur, Avi Soifer, Daniel Thym, Kyriaki Topidi,
Mark Tushnet, Patrick Weil, Alexander Yakobson, and Yaffa
Zilbershatz. Offering a mere list does injustice to the hours, and
often days, which so many of these people spent listening to my
arguments, reviewing drafts, and challenging ideas.
Writing in an inspiring academic environment and a lively
intellectual community is a valuable gift for an author. A number of
universities have hosted me in the course of writing the book. At
Columbia Law School, I learned a great deal about loyalty and the
concept of “nation” from George Fletcher, and became familiar with
U.S. immigration law in a seminar taught by Theodore Ruthizer.
Their unwavering support and friendship is the biggest asset that I
secured at Columbia. They have followed this project from its
inception and forced me to rethink my positions and reflect on the
arguments. At Harvard Law School, I was honored to be supervised
by Sanford Levinson, Frank Michelman, and Gerald Neuman—all of
whom have profoundly influenced my thinking, writing, and views on
citizenship and constitutionalism; they generously shared their time
and knowledge with me, welcomed me into their seminars, and
commented on my articles. In such ideal conditions, it is no wonder
that my year at Harvard was incredibly stimulating and productive.
At NYU’s Tikvah Center for Law & Jewish Civilization I began to
reflect on the philosophical foundations related to majority rights.
The academic seminars, led by Joseph Weiler and Moshe Halbertal,
galvanized me into considering new ways of understanding
citizenship and the depth of the parallel between religious affiliation
and political membership, religious rituals and citizenship
ceremonies. After spending a few years in the United States, I could
not land in a better place to continue pursuing this project than the
European University Institute in Florence. I am grateful to Rainer
Bauböck for granting me the opportunity to benefit from this unique
academic environment. The scholarly insights I received from
members, fellows, and students during my time in Florence were
truly thought-provoking. At Freie Universität Berlin, my gratitude
goes to Philip Kunig, who opened a window into German
constitutional law and the German academic world; his
encouragement was central to the completion of this work.
A few individuals deserve separate mention in view of their
profound influence of this book. Christian Joppke has been my
mentor since my student days and has contributed tremendously to
my intellectual development; I am grateful for his sharp criticism,
inspiration, and indispensable guidance. It was a great pleasure to
have an exchange with someone who seemed to understand my
work better than I did myself. This book owes a great deal to his
methodological suggestions and invaluable advice. Stephen
Legomsky served as a reviewer of my doctoral dissertation at the
Hebrew University of Jerusalem, providing me with the self-
confidence—the most valuable asset a young scholar can acquire—
needed to develop some of the ideas discussed in this book. He
always found the time to assist me even when serving as Chief
Counsel of the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services at the
Department of Homeland Security. Barak Medina was my doctoral
supervisor at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and has instructed
me on everything I have written thus far; his perceptive comments
and remarkable insights have always been challenging and kept me
busy for weeks. I could not wish for a better supervisor and owe him
an enormous debt of gratitude. Shelly Simana has been my assistant
throughout the writing process and became a partner for the
journey; she has made the writing of this manuscript a joy. This
book would not have been completed without her encouragement
and enthusiasm, accompanied by exceptional research skills,
uncanny ability to analyze legal issues, and original thinking. Peter
Schuck gave me a precious opportunity of an intellectual exchange
with him and his constructive criticism on citizenship tests and
loyalty oaths substantially improved the manuscript. Much of what I
know about citizenship theory is thanks to him. Peter believed in the
project long before it deserved his trust.
I had various opportunities to present the ideas appearing in this
book at conferences. In particular, I benefited from feedback offered
at the Annual Meeting of the American Society for Legal History,
European University Institute, FGV Direito Rio, Freie Universität
Berlin, Harvard University, Interdisciplinary Center (IDC) Herzliya,
Justus-Liebig-Universität Gießen, LSE, Texas A&M University at
Qatar, the Institute for Advanced Study in the Humanities in
Germany, the Swiss Institute of Comparative Law, Universität
Konstanz, Universität Luzern, and Wissenschaftszentrum Berlin für
Sozialforschung. While a conference provides an opening for keen
criticism, it is often a workshop—with a commentator—that proves
priceless in improving a work-in-progress. I profited from the
opportunity to participate in the Fourth Comparative Law Works-in-
Progress Workshop at Princeton University, the Seventh International
Workshop for Young Scholars at Humboldt University, the “Loyalty,
Identity, and Migration” workshop in Kenan Institute for Ethics at
Duke University, and the W.G. Hart Legal Workshop on Comparative
Perspectives of Constitutions at the Institute of Advanced Legal
Studies in London. I thank participants and commentators for their
useful comments.
The project could not have been realized without financial support.
Several fellowships have made this book a reality: an ISEF
Fellowship at Columbia Law School and Harvard Law School; a
Fulbright Fellowship, a Rothschild Fellowship, and a Tikvah
Scholarship at NYU’s Tikvah Center for Law & Jewish Civilization; a
Jean Monnet Fellowship at the European University Institute; a
research Fellowship at the Center for Comparative Constitutional Law
and Religion, Universität Luzern; and DRS and Marie Curie Intra-
European Fellowships at Freie Universität Berlin. During the years of
research, a number of grants enabled me to employ research
assistants and present my ideas at conferences: a Russell Sage
Presidential Authority Award (RSF Project No. 88-13-04), a Minerva
Grant by the Minerva Center for Human Rights at the Hebrew
University, an Israel Institute Research Grant, and a grant of the
Israel Science Foundation (Grant No. 434/13). I wish to convey my
thanks to these foundations for their generous support. In particular,
I am indebted to Nina Weiner, the President of ISEF, for years of
assistance—she supported me during all my studies in Israel and
abroad—but mainly for her friendship. The many hours we spent
discussing issues relating to this book in New York are valuable and
appreciated.
For the past fifteen years, IDC Herzliya has been my home. I have
been blessed by an extraordinarily supportive President, Uriel
Reichman, who has been dedicated to my success more than I could
ever dream of. Uriel took me under his wing when I was a first-year
student and believed in me from the beginning. Over the years, he
has provided me with ideal conditions to flourish academically and
his door has always been open to me and my never-ending requests.
IDC has helped me grow as a scholar and a person, tolerating my
mistakes and celebrating my triumphs. I also wish to express my
appreciation to my former dean, Yishai Beer, my current dean,
Sharon Rabin-Margalioth, and my vice dean, Ronen Kritenshtein,
who allowed me to take a few years off to conduct this research. No
doubt my greatest long-running, intellectual and personal debt is
owed to Amnon Rubinstein, who befriended a research assistant ten
years ago and convinced him to pursue an academic career. Amnon
is hard to classify because he could easily fit all categories. He is an
advisor, a colleague, a friend, and a role model. Amnon has not
merely “influenced” my academic career; he has made and shaped
it. I feel lucky to be able to work with him and owe him more than I
could ever repay.
Writing a book is one thing; publishing it is another. I wish to
thank Natasha Flemming and Elinor Shields at OUP for their
professional approach that has exceeded my most extravagant
hopes. They kindly tolerated my repeated delays in submitting the
manuscript, as well as all my requests about the book cover, editing
process, and numerous other issues characterized as “first book
syndrome.” Thanks are also due to Geetha Parakkat and Alison Floyd
for excellent editing of the manuscript.
The book incorporates, in modified forms, ideas that were
previously published elsewhere: “Illiberal Liberalism: Cultural
Restrictions on Migration and Access to Citizenship in Europe,”
American Journal of Comparative Law 58, no. 1 (2010): 53–105;
“Creating New Americans: The Essence of Americanism under the
Citizenship Test,” Houston Law Review 47, no. 5 (2011): 1227–1297;
“Race, Religion and Nationality in Immigration Selection: 120 Years
after the Chinese Exclusion Case,” Constitutional Commentary 26,
no. 1 (2010): 237–296 (with Theodore Ruthizer); A Strategy for
Immigration Policy in Israel, Ruth Gavison, ed. (Jerusalem: The
Metzilah Center, 2010) (with Shlomo Avineri and Amnon Rubinstein).
Permission to use these materials is gratefully acknowledged.
Writing a book can be a burden on family members. My mother
and two brothers, Shachar and Dan, have tolerated my lack of time
and innumerable visits abroad. While I cannot compensate them for
my absence, I can thank them for their unconditional love and
support.

This book is dedicated to my father (and best friend), Eli Orgad, who
did not live to see its publication.

Liav Orgad
Herzliya and Berlin
FEBRUARY 2015
Contents

List of Tables
Table of Cases
Table of Legislation
List of Abbreviations
A Note on the Cover

Introduction: Citizen Makers

PART I: BEFORE THE MAJORITY BECOMES THE


MINORITY

Chapter 1 New Challenge


Chapter 2 Demographic Anxiety
Chapter 3 Cultural Defense

PART II: LEGITIMATE AND ILLEGITIMATE DEFENSE

Chapter 4 Illiberal Liberalism


Chapter 5 Majority Rights
Chapter 6 National Constitutionalism

Conclusion: Immigration Policy and Constitutional Identity

Bibliography
Name Index
Subject Index
List of Tables

Table 1.1 International migrant stock as a percentage of the total


population by major regions, 1960–2010
Table 1.2 International migrant stock as a percentage of the total
population by selected countries, 1960–2010
Table 1.3 Persons with a foreign background as a percentage of
the total population by selected countries and years
(Model 1)
Table 1.4 Projections of the U.S. population by race, 2010–2050
Table 1.5 Percentage of Muslim population by selected countries,
1990–2030
Table 1.6 Total fertility rate and old-age support ratio by selected
countries and years
Table 1.7 Changes in the world population, 1900–2050 in millions
and as a percentage of the total
Table 2.1 Foreign-born population by region of birth in the United
States
Table 2.2 U.S. population by race, 1960–2050
Table 2.3 Population projections by type and year for Israel
Table of Cases

CANADA
Supreme Court of Canada, Gosselin (Tutor of) v. Quebec (Attorney General), 1 S.C.R. 238,
March 31, 2005 193
Supreme Court of Canada, Reference re Secession of Quebec, 2.S.C.R. 217, August 20,
1998 220

EUROPEAN UNION
Case C-127/08 Metock v. Minister for Justice, Equality and Law Reform [2008] E.C.R. I-6241
165
Case C-578/08 Chakroun v. Minister van Buitenlandse Zaken [2010] E.C.R. I-1839 165
Lautsi v. Italy Application 30814/06 (E.Ct.H.R., March 18, 2011) 8, 76–77, 216
S.A.S. v. France Application 43835/11 (E.Ct.H.R., July 1, 2014) 7

FRANCE
Conseil d’Etat, N° 286798, June 27, 2008 88
Cour de cassation, chambre criminelle, N° 12-80891, March 5, 2013 148
Cour de cassation, chambre criminelle, N° 12-83965, April 3, 2013 148
Cour de cassation, chambre criminelle, N° 12-81518, April 16, 2013 148

GERMANY
BGer, 119 B.G.E. Ia 178, June 18, 1993 74
BGer, 135 B.G.E. I 79, October 24, 2008 74
BVerfG, 1 B.v.F. 1/74; 1 B.v.F. 2/74; 1 B.v.F. 3/74; 1 B.v.F. 4/74; 1 B.v.F. 5/74; 1 B.v.F. 6/74,
February 25, 1975 154
BVerfG, 1 B.v.R. 436/03, April 29, 2003 73
BVerwG, 6 C 25.12‫‏‬, September 11, 2013 73
Hessischer VGH, Az. 7 A 1590/12, September 28, 2012 73
OVG Nordrhein-Westfalen, Az. 19 B 1362/08, May 20, 2009 73
VG Düsseldorf, Az. 18 K 74/05, May 30, 2005 73
VG Düsseldorf, Az. 18 K 301/08, May 7, 2008 73

INTERNATIONAL LAW
Nottebohm Case, Liechtenstein v. Guatemala, I.C.J. Rep. 1955, April 6, 1955 40, 163

ISRAEL
AdminA 1644/05, Frieda v. Ministry of the Interior, June 29, 2005 79, 125
Civil Appeal 8573/08, Ornan v. The Minister of Interior, October 6, 2013 129
HCJ 7052/03, Adalah v. The Minister of Interior, P.D. 54(1), May 14, 2006 126–127

THE NETHERLAND
Centrale Raad van Beroep, L.J.N. BI2440, May 7, 2009 73
Centrale Raad van Beroep, L.J.N. BR4959, August 16, 2011 149
Gerechtshof’s-Gravenhage, L.J.N. BW1270, April 10, 2012 73
Rechtbank Utrecht, L.J.N. BB2648, August 30, 2007 73

UNITED KINGDOM
R (BAPIO Action Ltd and anor) v. Secretary of State for the Home Department and anor
[2008] 1 A.C. 1003 236

UNITED STATES
Baumgartner v. United States 322 U.S. 665 (1944) 139–140
Chae Chan Ping v. United States 130 U.S. 581 (1889) 56
Girouard v. United States 328 U.S. 61 (1946) 86, 140–141
Re Petition of Matz 296 F. Supp. 927 (E.D. Cal. 1969) 122
Re Pisciattano 308 F. Supp. 818 (D. Conn. 1970) 121
Re Ramadass 445 Pa. 86 (Pa. Sup. Ct. 1971 122
Re Rodriguez 81 F. 337 (W.D. Tex. 1897) 121
Re Saralieff 59 F. 2d. 436 (E.D. Mo. 1932) 122–123, 220
Re Shanin 278 F. 739 (D. Mass. 1922) 123
Re Siem 284 F. 868 (D. Mont. 1922) 123
Kiyemba v. Obama 555 F.3d 1022 (D.C. Cir. 2009) 236
Knauer v. United States 328 U.S. 654 (1946) 139–140
Luria v. United States 231 U.S. 9 (1913) 122
Minersville School District v. Gobitis 310 U.S. 586 (1940) 141
Newdow v. Rio Linda Union School District 597 F.3d. 1007 (9th Cir. 2010) 216
Petition of Sittler 197 F. Supp. 278 (S.D. N.Y. 1961) 122–123
Reed v. Jack Van Hoven 237 F. Supp. 48 (W.D. Mich. 1965) 181
Regents of University of California v. Bakke 438 U.S. 265 (1978) 184
Schneiderman v. United States 320 U.S. 118 (1943) 122–123, 136–139, 141–142
Stasiukevich v. Nicolls 168 F. 2d. 474 (1st Cir. 1948) 122
State ex rel United States v. District Court 107 Minn. 444 (Minn. Sup. Ct. 1909) 121
United States v. Macintosh 283 U.S. 605 (1931) 85–86
United States v. Schwimmer 279 U.S. 644 (1929) 135, 141
United States v. Robel 389 U.S. 258 (1967) 166
United States v. Rossler 144 F. 2d. 463 (2nd Cir. 1944) 123
West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette 319 U.S. 624 (1943) 141

OTHER

EUROPEAN LAW
Council Directive 2003/86/EC of 22 September 2003 on the Right to Family Reunification
[2003] O.J. L251/12 165
Council of the European Union, “2618th Council Meeting: Justice and Home Affairs,” Council
Doc. C/04/321, 2004 164
Council of the European Union, “European Pact on Immigration and Asylum,” Council Doc.
13440/08, 2008 164–165
Council of the European Union, “Advisory Committee on the Framework Convention for the
Protection of National Minorities: The Language Rights of Persons Belonging to
National Minorities Under the Framework Convention,” Council Doc.
ACFC/44DOC(2012)001 rev, 2012 192
Council of the European Union, Parliamentary Assembly, “The Concept of ‘Nation’,” Council
Doc. 10762, 2005 180
Council of the European Union, Venice Commission, “Vademecum of Venice Commission
Opinions and Reports Concerning the Protection of Minorities,” Council Doc. CDL-
MIN(2007)001, 2007 177
European Commission, “Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament,
the Council, the Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions:
Communication on Migration,” Commission Doc. COM(2011) 248, 2011 166
European Commission, “Commission Staff Working Paper: EU Initiatives Supporting the
Integration of Third-Country Nationals,” Commission Doc. SEC(2011) 957, 2011 166
Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe Recommendation 1201 of 1 February 1993
on an Additional Protocol on the Rights of National Minorities to the European
Convention on Human Rights 193
The Hague Programme: Strengthening Freedom, Security and Justice in the European
Union [2005] O.J. C53/1 164
Treaty of Lisbon [2007] O.J. C306/1 165

FRANCE
Circulaire IMIK0900089C du 2 novembre 2009 relative l’organisation du grand débat sur
l’identité nationale 91
Conclusions du Mme Prada Bordenave, Commissaire du Gouvernement, May 27, 2008 88
Conseil Constitutionnel, Décision n° 91-290 DC du 09 mai 1991 185
Conseil Constitutionnel, Décision n° 2010-613 DC du 7 octobre 2010 93
Contrat d’accueil et d’intégration 89

INTERNATIONAL LAW
Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, “General Recommendation 30:
Discrimination Against Non-Citizens,” Committee Doc. CERD/C/64/Misc.11/rev.3, 2004
164
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (New York, 16 December 1966, 999
U.N.T.S. 171) 21, 167, 170
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (New York, 16 December
1966, 993 U.N.T.S. 3) 167
International Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination (New York,
7 March 1966, 60 U.N.T.S.) 164
Proposed Amendments to the Naturalization Provisions of the Constitution of Costa Rica,
Advisory Opinion OC-4/84, Inter-Am.Ct.H.R. Series A no. 4, January 19, 1984 163
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 637 (VII) of 16 December 1952 on the Right of Peoples
and Nations to Self-Determination 179
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 1514 (XV) of 14 December 1960 on the Declaration on
the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and People 171
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 1803 (XVII) of 14 December 1962 on the Permanent
Sovereignty over Natural Resources 179
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 2625 (XXV) of 24 October 1970 on the Declaration on
Principles of International Law concerning Friendly Relations and Co-operation among
States in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations 171
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 47/135 of 18 December 1992 on the Declaration on the
Rights of Persons Belonging to National or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic Minorities
174
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 50/6 of 24 October 1995 on the Declaration on the
Occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the United Nations 171
U.N. General Assembly Resolution 61/295 of 13 September 2007 on the United Nations
Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples 175
U.N. Human Rights Committe, “General Comment No. 23: Article 27 (Rights of Minorities),”
Committee Doc. CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.5, 1994 173–174

ISRAEL
Resolution 3805, 30th Government (2005) 81

UNITED STATES
56 Federal Register 20448 (May 3, 1991) 123
64 Federal Register 1221 (January 8, 1999) 123, 142
House Resolution 683, 112th Congress (2012) 56
Table of Legislation

FRANCE
Code Civil, Livre ler, Titre ler bis, ch. III 88–89
Décret n° 2006-1791 du 23 décembre 2006 relatif au contrat d’accueil et d’intégration et au
contrôle des connaissances en français d’un étranger souhaitant durablement s’installer
en France et modifiant le code de l’entrée et du séjour des étrangers et du droit d’asile
(partie réglementaire) 89
Décret n° 2012-126 du 30 janvier 2012 relatif au niveau et à l’évaluation de la connaissance
de l’histoire, de la culture et de la société françaises requis des postulants à la
nationalité française au titre de l’article 21-24 du code civil 90
Décret n° 2012-127 du 30 janvier 2012 approuvant la charte des droits et devoirs du
citoyen français prévue à l’article 21-24 du code civil 90
Décret n° 2013-794 du 30 août 2013 portant modification du décret n° 93-1362 du 30
décembre 1993 relatif aux déclarations de nationalité, aux décisions de naturalisation,
de réintégration, de perte, de déchéance et de retrait de la nationalité française 90
L-311-9-1 du code de l’entrée et du séjour des étrangers et du droit d’asile 89
Loi n° 2006-911 du 24 juillet 2006 relative à l’immigration et à l’intégration 89
Loi n° 2010-1192 du 11 octobre 2010 interdisant la dissimulation du visage dans l’espace
public 92

GERMANY
Allgemeine Verwaltungsvorschrift zum Staatsangehörigkeitsrecht (StAR-VwV) December 13,
2000, GMBI. 2001 at 122 97
Aufenthaltsgesetz (AufenthG) July 30, 2004, BGBl. I S. 1950, February 25, 2008, BGBI. I at
162 97
Staatsangehörigkeitsgesetz (StAG) July 22, 1913, RGBI. at 583 97

ISRAEL
Law of Return, 5710-1950, 4 L.S.I. 114 (1949-1950) 81, 125, 183, 194
Nationality Law, 5712-1952, 6 L.S.I. 50 (1951-1952) 125
Citizenship and Entry into Israel (Temporary Order) Law, 5763-2003, 1901 S.H. 544 (2003)
126
Population Registry Law, 5725-1965, 19 L.S.I. 288 (1964-1965) 128

THE NETHERLANDS
Wet Inburgering (Wi) November 30, 2006, Stb. 2006 at 625 100
Wet Inburgering Nieuwkomers (WIN) April 9, 1998, Stb. 1998 at 261 100
Wet Inburgering in het Buitenland (WIB) December 22, 2005, Stb. 2006 at 28 100
UNITED KINGDOM
Borders, Citizenship and Immigration Act 2009 107
British Nationality Act 1981 107, 111

UNITED STATES
5 U.S.C. (2006) 156
8 U.S.C. (2006) 116, 118
Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 115
Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, ch. 126, 22 Stat. 58 (repealed 1943) 56, 153
Emergency Quota Act of 1921, ch. 8, 42 Stat. 5 (repealed 1924) 57
Immigration Act of 1917, ch. 29, 39 Stat. 874 (repealed 1952) 57, 116
Immigration Act of 1924, ch. 190, 43 Stat. 153 (repealed 1952) 57
Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, ch. 477, 66 Stat. 163 (amended 1965) 57–58,
116, 118
Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, Pub. L. No. 89-236, 79 Stat. 911 (codified as
amended at 8 U.S.C. (2006)) 58
Internal Security Act of 1950, ch. 1024, 64 Stat. 987 (codified as amended at 50 U.S.C.
(2006)) 116
Naturalization Act of 1790, ch. 3, 1 Stat. 103 (repealed 1795) 54, 115
Naturalization Act of 1795, ch. 19-20, 1 Stat. 414 (repealed 1802) 115, 120, 136
Naturalization Act of 1906, ch. 3592, 34 Stat. 596 (repealed 1940) 116
List of Abbreviations

CDU Christian Democratic Union Party (Germany)

CSU Christian Social Union (Germany)

EEA European Economic Area

HCJ High Court of Justice (Israel)

ICCPR International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights

INA Immigration and Nationality Act (1952) (United States)

OECD Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development

StAG Staatsangehörigkeitsgesetz (1913) (Germany)

StAR- Allgemeine Verwaltungsvorschrift zum Staatsangehörigkeitsrecht (2000)


VwV (Germany)

SVP Swiss People’s Party

TFR Total Fertility Rate

UNESCO United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization

USCIS U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services


A Note on the Cover

The cover illustrates a world-famous painting, The Threatened Swan


by Jan Asselijn (c. 1650), exhibited in the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam.
The swan, conceived as an elegant, non-aggressive bird, feels
threatened by a curious dog which, barely seen in the lower left
side, seems intent on attacking the swan’s nest. The swan is
transformed into a raging beast, ferociously attacking the dog.
Unlike its peaceful image, the swan is on the warpath.
While it is unknown what Jan Asselijn meant by this awe-inspiring
painting, later owners added three inscriptions on the painting. One
of the eggs is engraved “Holland”; above the dog’s head appears the
caption “De Vijand van de Staat” (enemy of the state); and
underneath the swan it is stated “De Raadspensionaris” (Grand
Pensionary)—the political title given to Johan de Witt (1625–1672),
the most important political figure of his time in the Republic of the
United Provinces. These three inscriptions have transformed the
painting into a political allegory. The painting has become
synonymous with Holland defending itself and the swan has become
a symbol of a Dutch hero, de Witt, who led the wars against England
and France and, as a republican, struggled against the return of the
House of Orange to the throne. Thus, the swan can be regarded as
defending the Dutch Republic against both external and domestic
enemies.
The painting represents a conundrum. We do not know whether
the dog is indeed threatening the swan—it may be that the swan is
overestimating the threat—or whether the swan’s reaction is
overprotective. The painting, however, may be given a contemporary
interpretation that is relevant to the subject of this book. The
prosperous and usually docile West feels threatened by the influx of
immigration. Is the threat, symbolized by the dog, real or perceived?
Is the frightened reaction to it by the West, symbolized by the swan,
just or unjust, proportional or disproportional? And is there a way of
coping with the real or perceived threat other than through an
aggressive defense? This book attempts to answer these questions.
Introduction: Citizen Makers

To understand what a constitution (politeia) is, we must inquire into the nature of
the city (polis); and to understand that—since the city is a body of citizens (politai)
—we must examine the nature of citizenship.

—Aristotle1

Liberal democracies are citizen makers. They have a long tradition of


attempts to “Protestantize” Catholic immigrants and “Westernize”
non-Western immigrants. In contemporary liberal democracies, the
ultimate goal of the naturalization process is to “liberate” the illiberal
and channel immigrants into the dominant customs, beliefs, and
values of the dominant majority—by, for example, Anglifying or
Germanizing the immigrants. This process is tricky—how to be
citizen makers without being law breakers? More importantly, in
order to make “good” citizens out of immigrants, liberal states must
define not only the qualities that make one a good citizen, but also
the specific qualities that make one a good national citizen
(American, German, etc.). To answer this challenging question,
states must explore who they are and which elements define their
national character. The process which a non-citizen undergoes to
become a citizen is one of the most fascinating disciplines through
which to explore constitutional identity.
Immigration has become the topic of the day. Never in human
history has so much attention been paid to human movement.
Numbers matter. By 2013, the number of international immigrants
soared to 232 million—10.8 percent of the total population in the
developed regions. Numbers, however, are merely one factor. Other
factors are the pace of immigration and its character. In some
countries, the annual growth rate of immigration is rapidly increasing
and the ethno-cultural composition of immigrants is relatively
homogeneous. Contemporary immigration yields demographic shifts
of historical significance between dominant majorities and immigrant
communities. The changing patterns of immigration are linked to the
changing nature of Western societies. The West faces an
unprecedented population decline and has become more dependent
on immigration due to demographic and economic needs. Alongside
these transitions, the usual cultural changes brought about by
immigration are strengthened by global forces—free markets,
satellite television, and the Internet. Trans-cultural diffusion is
greater today than in any other period in human history. The “other”
is present in the national boundaries not just physically, but also
spiritually.
The long-term cultural impact of immigration is uncertain at this
point. It is too early to predict the consequences of immigration on
sovereignty, self-determination, and the nation-state. Three
consequences, however, are evident even at this early stage: the
effect of massive population movements on the cultural composition
and self-image of Western democracies—their national identities; the
backlash against multiculturalism in immigration policy; and the rise
of majority nationalism, or “cultural defense policies.”

WHO WE ARE
Surveys show that a high percentage of British citizens “feel British.”
But what exactly does it mean to feel “British”? What do people have
in mind when they state that they feel “British”? People may think
differently about this question, and perhaps it is also British to give
various meanings to British identity. Nevertheless, what does feeling
“British” really mean: can you choose the top three characteristics
without which one cannot feel or become British? If this is too
difficult, can you define what is un-British or non-British, be it a
pattern of behavior, a belief, or a way of doing things? Does feeling
British entail devotion, identification, or faith?
In 2002, the British government established a committee to
investigate the concept of Britishness. After long deliberation, the
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zeal of the true Indian-born domestic, who hails a change, a
“tamasha,” anything in the shape of a “feast,” with a joy and energy
totally unknown to the retainers of the folk in these colder latitudes.
Hospitable Mrs. Brande was to have a house and a house-party.
“P.” was absent on official business; but, under any circumstances,
he would not have been a likely recruit for what he called a “new
outbreak of jungle fever.” The Dashwoods, the Booles, the
Daubenys, the Clovers, were to have a married people’s mess.
There were also one or two chummeries, which made people look at
one another and smile! The bachelors, of course, had their own
mess; moreover, there were tents.
Mrs. Langrishe joined neither mess nor chummery, this clever
woman was merely coming as the Clovers’ guest for two days, and
Lalla was Mrs. Dashwood’s sole charge. Mrs. Sladen, of course,
stayed with Mrs. Brande, who had been relegated to the old
commandant’s house, an important-looking roomy bungalow,
standing in a great wilderness of a garden and peach orchard. Once
or twice during the last twenty years it, and one or two other
bungalows, had been let (to the Persian’s great annoyance) for a few
months in the season to needy families from the plains, who only
wanted air, good hill air, and could afford but little else!
Mrs. Brande and her party arrived a whole day before the general
public, travelling comfortably by easy stages through great forests of
pine, oak, or rhododendron, along the face of bold, bare cliffs, across
shallow river-beds, and through more than one exquisite park-like
glade, dotted with trees and cattle—naturally, Mrs. Brande kept a
suspicious eye on these latter. When the travellers reached their
destination, they found that roads had been repaired, lamp-posts
and oil lamps erected, the old band-stand was renovated—servants
were hurrying to and fro, carrying furniture, shaking carpets, airing
bedding and picketing ponies. There were coolies, syces, soldiers,
and active sahibs galloping about giving directions. In fact, Hawal
Bagh had put back the clock of time, and to a cursory eye was once
more the bustling, populous cantonment of forty years ago!
And how did the scanty society who dwelt in those parts relish the
resurrection of Hawal Bagh? To the neighbouring poor hill villagers
this event was truly a god-send; they reaped a splendid and totally
unexpected harvest, and were delighted to welcome the invaders,
who purchased their fowl, eggs, grain, milk, and honey.
Mark Jervis beheld the transformation with mingled feelings. He
had broken with his old life; most people, if they thought of him at all,
believed him to be in England—two months is a long time to live in
the memory of a hill station. Honor—she would be at Hawal Bagh—
she had not forgotten him yet. He would hang about the hills, that he
might catch a distant glimpse of her, or even of her dress. Surely he
might afford himself that small consolation.
As for the Persian, she surveyed the troops of gay strangers from
her aerie with a mixture of transports and anguish.
It was a fine moonlight night early in September, the hills loomed
dark, and cast deep shadows into the bright white valley. The air was
languorously soft, the milky way shone conspicuous, and fully
justified its Eastern name, “The Gate of Heaven.”
There was to be a ball in the old mess-house, and Mark took his
stand on the hill and watched the big cooking fires, the lit-up
bungalows, the hurrying figures; listened to the hum of voices, the
neighing of ponies, the tuning of musical instruments. Could this be
really the condemned, deserted cantonment of Hawal Bagh, that
many a night he had seen wrapped in deathlike silence? The dance
commenced briskly, open doorways showed gay decorations, the
band played a lively set of lancers, and a hundred merry figures
seemed to flit round and pass and repass; whilst the jackals and
hyenas, who had been wont to hold their assemblies in the same
quarter, slunk away up the hills in horrified disgust. Presently people
came out into the bright moonlight, and began to stroll up and down.
Mark recognized many well-known figures. There was Honor, in
white, walking with a little man who was conversing and gesticulating
with considerable vivacity. She seemed preoccupied, and held her
head high—gazing straight before her. Lookers on see most of the
game. The man must be a dense idiot not to notice that she was not
listening to one word he said.
There was Miss Paske, escorted by a ponderous companion with
a rolling gait—Sir Gloster, of course—and Miss Lalla was
undoubtedly entertaining him. It almost seemed as if he could hear
his emphatic “excellent” where he stood. Mrs. Merryfeather and
Captain Dorrington, Captain Merryfeather and Miss Fleet, and so on
—and so on—as pair after pair came forth.
Suddenly he became aware of the fact that he was not the only
spectator. Just below him stood a figure, so motionless, that he had
taken it for part of a tree. The figure moved, and he saw the Persian
lady standing gazing with fixed ravenous eyes on the scene below
them. He made a slight movement, and she turned hastily and came
up towards him. They were acquaintances of some standing now,
and met once or twice a week either among the lepers or about the
cantonment. Mark had never ventured to call at the mysterious little
bungalow, but he sent her offerings of flowers, fruit, and hill
partridges, and she in return admitted him to her friendship—to an
entirely unprecedented extent. Whether this was due to the young
man’s handsome face, and chivalrous respect for her privacy and
her sex, or whether it was accorded for the sake of another, who
shall say?
“You are looking on, like myself,” he remarked, as she accosted
him. “Are you interested?”
“Nay, ‘the world is drowned to him who is drowned,’ says the
proverb. I came to Hawal Bagh to retire from the crowd, and lo! a
crowd is at my gates!”
“This, surely, must be quite a novel sight to you?”
She gazed at him questioningly, and made no answer.
“Of course you have never seen this sort of thing before, English
people in evening dress, dancing to a band?”
“I have known phantoms—yea, I have seen such as these,”
pointing, “in a—dream—thousands of years ago.”
Her companion made no reply, the Persian often uttered dark
sayings that were totally beyond his comprehension. Possibly she
believed in the transmigration of souls, and was alluding to a former
existence.
“Mine are but spirits, whereas to you these people are real flesh
and blood,” she resumed. “You were one of them but three months
ago. Think well ere you break with your past, and kill and bury youth.
Lo, you grow old already! Let me plead for youth, and love. Heaven
has opened to me to-day. She,” lowering her voice to a whisper, “is
among those—I have seen her—she is there below.”
“I know,” he answered, also in a low voice.
“Then why do you not seek her—so young, so fair, so good? Oh!
have you forgotten her sweet smile, her charming eyes? Love, real
love, comes but once! Go now and find her.”
Mark shook his head with emphatic negation.
“What heart of stone!” she cried passionately. “Truly I will go
myself and fetch her here. I——But no—I dare not,” and she covered
her face with her hands.
“Do not add your voice to my own mad inclinations. It is all over
between us. To meet her and to part again would give her needless
pain.”
“Ah! again the music,” murmured the Persian, as the band
suddenly struck up a weird haunting waltz, which her companion well
remembered—they had played it at the bachelors’ ball. “Music,” she
continued, clenching her two hands, “of any kind has a sore effect on
me. It tears my heart from my very body, and yet I love it, yea,
though it transport me to——” She paused, unable to finish the
sentence. Her lips trembled, her great dark eyes dilated, and she
suddenly burst into a storm of tears. The sound of her wild, loud,
despairing sobs, actually floated down and penetrated to the ears of
a merry couple who were strolling at large, and now stood
immediately below, little guessing that another pair on the hillside
were sadly contemplating a scene of once familiar but now lost
delights, like two poor wandering spirits.
“Surely,” said Mrs. Merryfeather, “I heard a human voice, right up
there above us. It sounded just like a woman weeping—crying as if
her heart was broken.”
“Oh, impossible!” scoffed the man. “Hearts in these days are
warranted unbreakable, like toughened glass.”
“Listen! There it is again!” interrupted the lady excitedly.
“Not a bit of it, my dear Mrs. Merry; and your sex would not feel
flattered if they heard that you had mistaken the cry of a wild beast,
for a woman’s voice! I assure you, on my word of honour, that it is
nothing but a hyena.”
CHAPTER XLII.
BY THE OLD RIFLE-RANGE.

A powerful and determined temptation, that was deaf to reason or


argument, struggled hourly to drag Mark Jervis to Hawal Bagh. It
changed its fierce wrestlings, and passionate and even frantic
pleadings to soft alluring whispers. It whispered that life was but an
hour in the æons of time—a drop in the ocean of eternity. Why not
taste the drop—enjoy the hour? Snatch the sunshine and live one’s
little day, ere passing for ever into eternal darkness and oblivion! It
even quoted the Scriptures, and vehemently urged him to take no
thought for the morrow—that sufficient unto the day was the evil
thereof. It seized the brush from the hand of memory, and painted
Honor Gordon as an angel. It babbled of a visit to Mrs. Brande—she
had always been his friend. Surely there was no harm in going to
see her! But the young man sternly silenced alike whisperings or
pleadings. He beat the mad tempter to its knees, choked it, and, as
he believed, put it to death. Why undergo the anguish of parting
twice—why walk across red-hot plough-shares a second time?
For four whole days he held aloof, and never visited the
cantonment—save in his thoughts and dreams. On the fifth he
conscientiously set forth in the opposite direction, and after a long
and aimless ride was astonished to find himself—no, not exactly on
the enchanted ground, but close to the old rifle-range, which lay at
the back of its encompassing hills. To the left dipped a long valley, on
the right of the path towered a forest of rhododendrons and ever-
green oaks, carpeted with ferns, and a blaze of delicate autumn
flowers; here and there the Virginia creeper flared, and here and
there a pale passion-flower had flung abroad its eager tendrils and
attached two noble trees. All at once, a fat white puppy came
bustling through the undergrowth; he was chasing a family of
respectable elderly monkeys, with the audacity common to his age
and race. Truly the pup is the father of the dog; and Jervis, who was
walking slowly with his pony following him, recognized this particular
pup at once as an old friend. He had bought him and presented him
to Mrs. Brande, when her grief was as yet too fresh—and this same
rollicking, well-to-do animal had once been indignantly spurned! To
whom did he now belong? Who was his master or his mistress?
There was a sound of light young footsteps, a crashing of small
twigs, a glimpse of a white dress, and an anxious girlish voice
calling, “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy!”
In another second Honor Gordon ran down into the path, about
thirty yards ahead of Tommy’s donor. She was almost breathless,
her hat was in her hand—possibly it had been snatched off by an
inquisitive branch as she struggled after the runaway. The soft little
locks on her forehead were ruffled, and she had an unusually brilliant
colour.
As Mark’s starving eyes devoured her face he thought he had
never seen her look so lovely. He summoned up all his self-
command—there must be no going back to “old days,” no moaning
over “what might have been.” No; he was the stronger, and must set
a stern example.
For quite twenty seconds there was a dead silence, a silence only
broken by the trickling of a snow-born mountain stream, passing
lingeringly through the ferns and orchids—who seemed to stoop and
bend over—listening intently to its timid silvery song.
“How changed he was!” thought Honor, with a queer tight feeling in
her throat, “only three short months, and the bright look of buoyant
youth had faded from his face.”
“Ah!” she exclaimed, with a supreme effort. “I had a presentiment
that I should see you soon—I dreamt it!”
“Dreams sometimes go by contraries,” he answered, with a rather
fixed smile.
“And how clever of Tommy to find you! The dear dog remembered
you.”
“Well, up to the present he has not shown any symptoms of
recognizing me; on the contrary, he has cut me dead. He is in hot
pursuit of some venerable lumgoors. How long is it since he has
seen me?” asked Mark.
“The day of the bachelors’ ball. I recollect you gave him a
méringue, and very nearly killed him! It was on the eighth of June.
This is the tenth of September; just three months and two days.”
“So it is,” he acquiesced, with forced nonchalance.
“Do you live near here?” she continued.
“About four miles, by a goat path across that hill.”
“Pray are you aware that we are picnicing below, with half
Shirani?”
“Yes, I know; but not another starvation picnic I hope?”
“And yet,” ignoring his ill-timed jest, “you have never come to see
us, and we leave to-morrow!”
He looked down to avoid her questioning eyes, and made no
answer, beyond a faint, half-strangled sigh.
“At least we are still friends,” she urged, swallowing something in
her throat.
“Yes—always; but I thought I had better remain away. The Shirani
folk would take me for a ghost, and I might upset their nerves. What
is the latest station news?”
“Our latest news is, that Mrs. Sladen is to go home at Christmas.
Miss Clover is engaged to Captain Burne, and Miss Paske to Sir
Gloster Sandilands,” she answered stiffly.
“Poor Toby! I suppose my former acquaintances believe me to be
in England—if they ever think of me at all?”
She hesitated, twisted her ring round and round, and then said—
“Your friends,” with emphasis, “know that you are out in this
country, looking after your father. How is he?”
“Wonderfully better, thank you.”
“And you—you have been ill?” she remarked rather tremulously.
“No, indeed; I never was better in my life. Of course you saw
Waring before he went down?”
“No,” with undeniable embarrassment. “In fact, he copied your
example, and dispensed with all farewells. He—he—left rather
suddenly,” and she coloured.
“Why do you hesitate?” looking at her keenly. “What did he do? He
has been doing something, I can see.”
“It was rather what he did not do,” with a constrained laugh. “Of
course it is no business of mine. He did not pay any of his bills. I am
not sure whether I ought to tell you.”
“And I am quite sure you ought,” he answered with decision.
“But he left such quantities of debts behind him, and no—address
——”
“Debts?” he repeated incredulously.
“Yes, he paid for nothing. Club accounts, card accounts, mess
bills, servants’ wages—not even his bearer’s bill for thread and
buttons and blacking. People,” with a nervous little laugh, “seem to
think that was the greatest enormity of all!”
“No!” cried Mark, his pale face turning to a vivid red, “I will tell you
of a greater. I knew he had spent and muddled away most of our
joint-funds, and the day I was last in Shirani I collected the bills and
gave him all the money I had in the world—a cheque for five hundred
pounds—to settle our affairs. He swore, on his honour, he would pay
them at once and send me the receipts. Now, of course, every one in
Shirani believes me to be as great a swindler and thief as he is! They
must naturally suppose that I—I—bolted from my creditors! I,” with
increasing warmth, “now understand why you stammered and
hesitated when I asked if I was not forgotten. Forgotten! I shall live in
people’s memories for years—on the principle that ‘the evil which
men do lives after them.’”
“I am sorry I told you——” she began eagerly.
“And I have chiefly myself to blame. I was an idiot to trust Waring. I
had had one lesson; but—I was half mad with my own troubles, and
determined to tear myself away from Shirani at once. I felt that if I
stayed on I might yield to temptation—good resolutions and fresh
impressions might fade—and I might never return here——”
The pup, flouted and evaded by the scornful lumgoors, and
exhausted by his tremendous efforts, now squatted on the path,
apparently listening open-mouthed to every word.
The grey pony had also drawn near, and occasionally rubbed his
handsome head against his master’s shoulder, as much as to say
—“Enough of such fooling; let us move on!”
“This is horrible!” continued Mark. “I hate to owe a penny, and I
have no means of paying our joint-debts, for Waring has wolfed the
cheque.”
“And your uncle?”
“He has never written once. From his point of view I have treated
him atrociously, and I am awfully sorry he should think so, for I am
very fond of him. Of course he has done with me.” And, with a grim
smile, “I am now in sober truth—a real poor relation. I am a pretty
sort of fellow,” he went on, “I have talked of nothing but myself—and
money—money—money, for the last five minutes. Tell me of
yourself. Are you having a good time?”
“A good time!” she echoed, with a flash of her dark grey eyes.
“I beg your pardon, Honor,” he said, humbly. “But it has been one
of my few consolations when I roam about these hills, to think that
you were happier than I am.”
“And had forgotten you?” she added expressively.
“And,” with a slight tremor in his voice—“had forgotten me.”
“Never!” she returned, with passionate energy.
“Yes—you will, in time; perhaps not for two or three years—for you
are not like other girls. I am your first lover—nothing can deprive me
of that memory.”
“No, nothing,” she admitted, almost in a whisper.
“But, you know, they say a woman generally marries her second
love,” with a laborious effort to speak steadily.
“How calmly you can discuss my lovers, and my future!” cried
Honor, indignantly. “Oh, how hard you have become—how cold—
how cruel!”
“Cruel—if I am cruel—only to be kind,” he replied steadily. “For,
years to come, you will thank me—and think——”
“I think,” she interrupted, with a pitiful little gesture, “that when we
meet so—seldom—scarcely ever—that you might be——” here her
voice totally failed her.
She had grown much paler, and her breath came quickly, as she
tried to keep down a sob.
Mark resisted a wild impulse to take her in his arms—and
stooping, picked up the pup instead.
“Your uncle got my letter?” he asked, in a cool formal tone.
“Yes, and was dreadfully concerned; but he said you were a man
of honour, and your views and his were identical—but—I don’t agree
with them.”
“You don’t agree with them! What do you mean?”
“He told auntie, of course—and of course I insisted on her telling
me. After all, it was my affair. I know the obstacle—I am ready to be
your wife, just the same. As for poverty——”
“Poverty,” he interrupted quickly, “is not the question! I have a little
money of my own, and I could put my shoulder to the wheel and
work for you, Honor. It is not that—it is that my future is
overshadowed, my reason stalked, by an hereditary and implacable
enemy. I have no right to drag another into the pit—and, please God,
I never will! When I lived a smooth luxurious sort of life, in those days
that seem years ago, I thirsted for some difficult task, something to
do that would single me out and set me apart from other men. My
task has been allotted to me; it is not what I desired——”
“No!” interposed Honor, whose heart was fighting against her fate
with a frenzy of despair. “Your task is to renounce everything—the
world, and friends, and wealth, and me—and to bury yourself in
these remote hills, with a crazy old gentleman who cannot realize the
sacrifice. Don’t!” with an impatient gesture of her hand, “I know that I
am speaking as if I were mad, and in my old foolish way. I know in
my heart that you are doing what is right—that you could not do
otherwise, and I—I am proud of you.”
Then, as she looked into his haggard, altered face and miserable
eyes, and caught a glimpse of the real Mark beneath his armour of
stoicism—“But, oh, it is hard—it is hard——” she added, as she
covered her face with her hands and wept.
“Honor! for God’s sake don’t—don’t—I implore you! I cannot bear
this. I would go through all I have struggled with over again to save
you one tear. Circumstances—destiny—or whatever they call it—is
too strong for us. You must not let me spoil your life. You know I shall
love you—you only as long as I draw breath.”
“I know that!” raising her wet eyes to his. “And you dare to talk to
me of a good time, of marrying my second love! Oh, Mark, Mark!
how could you?”
“I was a brute to say it. I thought it would make it easier for you—
when——” and his voice broke—“sometimes—when—you think of
me——”
“Which will be every day—and often. And now I must be going. I
was already late enough when Tommy ran away. I was afraid of his
meeting poor Ben’s fate. Will you come with me as far as the brow of
the hill, where our paths part?”
“Yes—part for ever!” he added to himself.
As they turned, she asked him many questions concerning his life,
his associates, and his occupations. He on his side made the best of
everything, painting the Yellow Bungalow, the gardens, the planters
and missionaries with gorgeous colours.
“And are there no white women near you?” she inquired. “Have
you never met one lady to speak to since you left Shirani?”
“Yes, I have one acquaintance, and one who is a friend of yours.
She is a Persian, I believe. Your little cornelian ring has been a
strong link between us. She is a most mysterious person. No one
can tell who she is, or where she came from. All we know is, that she
spends her present time in doing good, nursing the sick and dying.
She told me that you knew the history of her life—you alone——”
“It is true,” bending her head as she spoke, and fixing her eyes on
the ground.
“She shrinks from all observation, but she does not hide from me
—for your sake; we talk about you constantly, I may say always.”
“Then give her a message from me, please. Tell her that I often
think of her, and ask her if I may write to her, or if she will write to
me?”
“You forget that she is a Persian. How can she possibly write to
you?”
Honor coloured painfully, and twisted her ring round and round
before she spoke, and then she said—
“Please give her the message all the same. I—I—can manage to
get her letter read. I will understand it.”
They were now at the point where their roads diverged—his went
along the hill, hers led down into the valley. She stopped for a
moment, and caressed the grey pony’s sleek hard neck; then she
turned and gave the pony’s master both her hands. They gazed at
one another, with sad white faces, reading their life’s tragedy in each
other’s eyes. Then she suddenly tore her fingers from his clasp, and
ran down the hill with Tommy in pursuit. Jervis stood where she had
left him, until the very last echo of her footsteps had died away.
“And that is a sound I shall never hear again,” he groaned aloud,
and flinging himself down on the root of a tree, he covered his face
with his hands. How long he remained in this attitude the grey pony
alone knew! By-and-by he became tired of waiting—for he was either
too well fed or too sympathetic to graze—he came and rubbed his
soft black muzzle against the man’s short brown locks (his cap lay
on the ground). It was his poor little attempt at consolation, and
effectually roused his owner, though it did not comfort him, for what
could a dumb animal know of the great distresses of the human
heart?

Honor was late for tiffin, in fact it was getting on for afternoon
teatime when she arrived. She discovered the bungalow in a state of
unusual commotion. There was visible excitement on the servants’
faces, an air of extra importance (were that possible) in the bearer’s
barefooted strut—he now appeared to walk almost entirely on his
heels.
Mrs. Brande was seated at a writing-table, beginning and tearing
up dozens of notes; her cap was askew, her fair hair was ruffled, and
her face deeply flushed. What could have happened?
“Oh, Honor, my child, I thought you were never coming back, I
have been longing for you,” rushing at her. “But how white you look,
dearie; you have walked too far. Are you ill?”
“No, no, auntie. What is it? There is something in the air. What has
happened?”
For sole answer, Mrs. Brande cast her unexpected weight upon
her niece’s frail shoulder, and burst into loud hysterical tears.
“Only think, dear girl!”—convulsive sobs—“a coolie has just come
—and brought a letter from P.—They have made him a K.C.B.”—
boisterous sobs—“and your poor old auntie—is—a lady at last!”
CHAPTER XLIII.
“RAFFLE IT!”

“Major and Mrs. Granby Langrishe request the honour of Mr. and
Mrs. Blanks’s company at St. John’s church at two o’clock on the
afternoon of the 20th inst., to be present at the marriage of their
niece and Sir Gloster Sandilands.”
These invitation cards, richly embossed in silver, were to be seen
in almost every abode in Shirani. The wedding dress was on its way
from Madame Phelps, in Calcutta. The cake and champagne were
actually in the house. There were to be no bridesmaids, only two
little pages—“they were cheaper,” Mrs. Langrishe said to herself; “a
set of girls would be expecting jewellery and bouquets.” Happy Mrs.
Langrishe, who had been overwhelmed with letters and telegrams of
congratulations. She had indeed proved herself to be the clever
woman of the family. It was her triumph—more than Lalla’s—and she
was radiant with pride and satisfaction. Yea, her self-congratulations
were fervent. She was counting the days until her atrocious little
incubus went down the ghaut as Lady Sandilands. A little incubus,
securely fastened on another person’s shoulders—for life!
Lalla was entirely occupied with letters, trousseau, and
preparations. She was to have taken the principal part in a grand
burlesque, written specially for her, by Toby Joy. The burlesque had
been on hand for two months, and was to bring the Shirani season to
a fitting and appropriate close. The piece was called “Sinbad the
Sailor.” Lalla had been rehearsing her songs and dances most
industriously, until she had been called upon to play another part—
the part of Sir Gloster’s fiancée.
Sir Gloster did not care for burlesques; he had never seen Miss
Paske in her true element—never seen her dance. It was not
befitting her future position that she should appear on the boards.
No, no; he assured her that he was somewhat old-fashioned, his
mother would not like it. She must promise him to relinquish the idea,
and never to perform in public again. But Lalla was stubborn; she
would not yield altogether. Urged by Toby Joy, by the theatrical
troupe—who felt that they could not pull through without their own
bright particular star—she held out in a most unreasonable and
astonishing manner. At length she submitted so far as to declare that
“she would wear Turkish trousers, if he liked!” This she reluctantly
announced, as if making an enormous concession.
“He certainly did not wish her to wear Turkish trousers!” he
returned, greatly scandalized. “How could she make such a terrible
suggestion?” He was heavy and inert, but he could oppose a dead,
leaden weight of resistance to any scheme which he disliked. This
he called “manly determination;” but Lalla had another name for it
—“pig-headed obstinacy!” However, she coaxed, promised, flattered,
wept, and worked upon her infatuated lover so successfully, that he
reluctantly permitted her to take a very small part, so as not to have
her name removed from the bills; but this was to be positively “Her
last appearance,” and she might announce it on the placards, if she
so pleased. He himself was summoned to Allahabad on urgent
business—in fact, to arrange about settlements—and he would not
be present, he feared; but he would do his best to return by the end
of the week.
Miss Paske’s part, the dancing, singing peri, was given to a very
inferior performer—who was the stage manager’s despair, and a
most hopeless stick. Toby Joy, who was in woefully low spirits
respecting the certain failure of the burlesque, and—other matters—
came to Lalla on the night but one before the play.
“She has got influenza—so it’s all up,” making a feint of tearing his
hair, “and every place in the house sold for two nights, and—an
awful bill for dresses and properties. What is to become of me? Can’t
you take it? It was your own part—you do it splendidly—no
professional could beat you. Come, Lalla!”
“I promised I would not dance,” she answered with a solemn face.
“Time enough to tie yourself up with promises after you are
married! Take your fling now—you have only ten days—you’ll never
dance again.”
“No, never,” she groaned.
“He is away, too,” urged this wicked youth; “he is not coming up till
Saturday; he won’t know, till all is over, and then he will be as proud
as a peacock. You have your dresses, you had everything ready until
he came and spoilt the whole ‘box of tricks.’” And Toby looked
unutterable things. “Did he say anything to your aunt?” he asked.
“No—not a word. You don’t suppose that I allow her to mix herself
up in my affairs? It was merely between him and me——”
“Well, you can easily smooth him down—and if you don’t take your
own original part, I must send round a peon this afternoon, to say
that the burlesque has been put off, owing to the illness of the prima-
donna—the ‘incapability’ is the proper word. But you are a brick, and
you won’t let it come to that; you will never leave us in a hole.”
A little dancing devil in each eye eagerly assured him that she
would not fail them! Yes, the combined entreaties of her own set—
their compliments and flattery—her own hungry craving for what
Toby called “one last fling,” carried the point. He would not be back
until Saturday. The piece was for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday,
and she could (as she believed) easily talk him over. Yes, she made
up her mind that she would play the peri; and she informed her aunt,
with her most off-hand air, “that she had been prevailed on to take
the principal part; that Miss Lane was ill (and any way would have
been a dead failure); that she could not be so shamefully selfish as
to disappoint every one; that the proceeds were for a charity (after
the bills were paid there would not be much margin)”, and Mrs.
Langrishe, in sublime ignorance of Lalla’s promise, acquiesced as
usual. She now subscribed to all her niece’s suggestions with
surprising amiability, assuring herself that the days of her
deliverance from “a girl in a thousand” were close at hand!
The burlesque of Sinbad was beautifully staged, capitally acted,
and a complete success. Miss Paske’s dancing and singing were
pronounced to be worthy of a London theatre—if not of a music-hall.
People discussed her wherever they met, and all the men hastened,
as it were in a body, to book places for the next performance.
The ladies were not altogether so enthusiastic; indeed, some of
them were heard to wonder how Sir Gloster would have liked it?
Sir Gloster, on the wings of love, was already half way through his
return journey. He had transacted his business with unexpected
promptitude, and was breakfasting at a certain dâk bungalow,
encompassed with many parcels and boxes. Here he was joined by
two subalterns, who were hurrying in the opposite direction—that is,
from Shirani to the plains. They were full of the last evening’s
entertainment, and could talk of nothing but the burlesque.
“It was quite A1,” they assured their fellow-traveller. “It could not
be beaten in London—no, not even at the Empire. Miss Paske was
simply ripping!”
“Yes,” returned Sir Gloster, complacently, “I believe there is a good
deal of nice feeling in her acting, but she had only a minor part.”
“Bless your simple, innocent heart!” exclaimed the other, “she was
the principal figure; she was the whole show; she filled the bill.”
“May I ask what you mean?” demanded the baronet, with solemn
white dignity.
“She was the peri—didn’t you know? She dances every bit as well
as Lottie Collins or Sylvia Grey, doesn’t she, Capel?” appealing
eagerly to his comrade.
“Yes; and I’d have gone to see her again to-night, only for this
beastly court-martial. I gave my ticket over to Manders, for he
couldn’t get a place. She draws like a chimney on fire; there is no
squeezing in at the door—even window-sills were at a premium. You
ought to go on, Sir Gloster; of course you will get a seat,” with a
significant laugh. “This is the last performance, and, upon my word,
you should not miss it.”
Sir Gloster remained mute. Was it possible that his little Lalla, who
wrote him such sweet, endearing notes, had deliberately broken her
word, and defied him?
At the very thought of such a crime his white flabby face grew
rigid. Seeing was believing. He would take this crack-brained young
man’s advice, and hurry on. He might manage to be in Shirani by
eight o’clock that evening—just in time to dress and get to the play.
His wrath was hot within him—and the anger of a quiet and
lethargic person, when once roused, is a very deadly thing. His
sturdy hill ponies bore the first brunt of his indignation; and Sir
Gloster, who was naturally a timid horseman, for once threw fear to
the winds, and galloped as recklessly as Toby Joy himself. He
arrived at the club just in time to swallow a few mouthfuls, change
his clothes, and set off to the theatre. He could not get a seat, but
“he might, if he liked, stand near the door, with his back to the wall,”
and for this handsome privilege he paid four rupees—the best-laid-
out money he ever invested, as he subsequently declared. The
curtain had already risen; the scene looked marvellously like
fairyland. Toby Joy had just concluded a capital topical song, when a
large egg was carefully rolled upon the stage. The egg-shell opened
without the application of a spoon, and hatched out a most exquisite
creature, the peri, whose appearance was the signal for a thunder of
hand-clapping. The peri—yes—was Lalla, in very short, fleecy
petticoats, with a twinkling star in her hair—his own present, as Sir
Gloster noted with an additional spasm of indignation.
Presently she began to dance.
Now, be it known, that her performance was perfectly decorous
and delightfully graceful. Lalla’s glancing feet scarcely touched the
ground, and she danced as if from pure happiness and lightness of
heart. (Toby Joy danced as if he had le diable au corps.) After
entrancing the spectators for ten thrilling minutes with several
entirely fresh variations, Lalla finished up with the tee-to-tum spin,
which is to the dancer what the high note, at the end of a song, is to
the singer!
The result of this effort was a hurricane of frantic applause, in
which Sir Gloster took no part; he was not a theatre-goer—he was
provincial. His mother and his surroundings were strictly evangelical;
and whilst his fiancée enchanted the whole station, he stood against
the wall glowering and pale. The only character present to his mind
was the daughter of Herodias! Frankly speaking, the performance
had filled him with horror. That the future Lady Sandilands should
offer herself thus to public contemplation; that any one who chose to
pay four rupees might see this indecorous exhibition—including
soldiers in uniform, at the low price of four annas!
He was actually beside himself with fury, and forced his way out,
with his head down, like a charging animal. Few noticed him or his
hasty exit; every one had eyes for Lalla, and Lalla only. She received
an ovation and a shower of bouquets as she was conducted before
the curtain by Toby Joy, modestly curtseying and kissing her hand.
Miss Paske subsequently remained to enjoy a merry and recherché
supper, chaperoned by the invaluable Mrs. Dashwood; and Mrs.
Langrishe, as was not an unusual occurrence, went home alone.
To that lady’s great amazement, she discovered Sir Gloster
awaiting her in the drawing-room, and she gathered from his strange
and agitated appearance that something terrible had occurred.
“I was thinking of writing to you, Mrs. Langrishe,” he began in a
curiously formal voice, “but I changed my mind, and came to see you
instead. All is over between your niece and myself.”
Mrs. Langrishe turned perfectly livid, and dropped into the nearest
chair.
“Pray, explain!” she faltered at last.
“Miss Paske will doubtless explain to you why she gave me a
solemn promise to renounce dancing on a public stage. I reluctantly
allowed her to appear for the last time in a very small part—that of
an old nurse. I return unexpectedly, and discover her in the character
of a ballet-girl, exhibiting herself—well, I must say it—half naked to
the whole of Shirani. Such a person is not fit to be my wife. She has
broken her word. She has a depraved taste; she has no modesty.”
That Ida Langrishe should live to hear such epithets applied to her
own flesh and blood!

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