There is a quote that I came across, a while back, that resonated and I think it best describes a certain aspect of our lives: “broken English is the language of the future.” To be honest, I can’t remember where it came from, or who said it. I’m fairly certain it was John LeCarre, the world’s best spy novel writer and though I struggle to find any proof of that, I still like to think it was him who managed to have such insight on the state of the world we live in and the communities we’re building. Regardless of its provenance, the phrase’s truth was presented to me in full display, a couple of days a go, when I found myself engaging in a completely unintelligible conversation with an after-sales support officer of a large pharmaceutical, regarding a medical device I’m using. Here I was, trying to unearth technical terms from my memory and express them with my thick Greek (often mistaken for French or Spanish) accent. Here was my interlocutor, a person with an even thicker (Indian, I can only assume) accent, with a vocabulary even poorer than mine, trying to explain the inner workings of the purchase I made. Here we were, two people of different background, found in the welcoming neutral zone of Australia. It was a conversation that only lasted a few minutes but it was, at times, frustrating, confusing, deliriously funny and, in the end, enlightening. It also somehow disproved the validity of “LeCarre’s” quote: broken English is not the language of the future – it’s the language of today. It’s the language we speak in our daily routine interactions, at the bakery, at the supermarket, at the milkbar, at our local fish and chippery. It’s the language spoken by our bus driver, the metro officer issuing our myki, the hairdresser and florist. It’s the language of small business – which, as we are taught to say, is the backbone of this great country.

Not everyone agrees – most notably, those in power don’t seem to like broken English, for all their commitment to small business. Last week, the Federal Minister of Citizenship, Alan Tudge, made a statement proclaiming proficiency in English as a prerequisite for citizenship. Evoking a research showing that migrants who spoke English very well were 3.7 times more likely to be employed in 18 months after arrival than those who had poor English, Mr Tudge then said:”This is particularly the case where the concentration of overseas born in particular suburs is aligned with a considerable absence of English being spoken or understood” This statement echoed a similar statement made by his immediate superior-ranking minister, Peter Dutton, who, speaking at the National Press Club said that the Government will “reinforce the importance of evidenced integration and the English language in the steps to acquire citizenship,” reheating a legislation that was presumably dead at the Senate.

This obsession with English is starting to emerge as a pattern in the rhetoric of those opposed to migration – mostly conservative politicians and media. And it is going strong despite the backlash, despite reports saying that ⅓ of Australian small businesses are owned by migrants, despite people deeming this attitude, particularly coming from the government, as insult towards the waves of migrants who came in this country, with no knowledge of language whatsoever, and managed to work, to create businesses, to pay taxes, to raise families, to contribute to the economy, to the country – basically, to make Australia what it is.

English played a very small role in that. Minister of Home Affairs, Peter Dutton, disagrees, of course. “Our diversity has enriched our nation, but it is not what holds us together,” he said in his speech, again insisting on the importance of “our national language”. As expected, in the same speech, Mr Dutton made extensive references to the issues of national security and “Countering the threat from terrorism”, which remains a “key priority” of his portfolio.

“Since August 2014, the Coalition has strengthened our nation’s defences against terrorism,” he said and reminded people of the “220 or so Australians who travelled to the Middle East to fight with or support terrorist groups since 2012” – these are people who learned English in Australian schools, effectively confirming that knowledge of English does not prove allegiance to a country. In fact, if there are indeed terrorists within Australia, their first priority would be to learn perfect English. But not too perfect. Because the average conservative Australian, the people prone to the racist rhetoric and to the vilification of migrants, refugees, non-English speakers, do not usually have that great of a grasp of language themselves. As many government critics have pointed out, a lot of true-blue Australians would fail the language test those applying for Citizenship are supposed to pass, alongside other ‘Australian value tests’.

Then why is English elevated from its real dimension – a communication tool – to a status equivalent to a set of values? Languages are not value systems. English is not proof of values, it is just a language. The idea that any language is superior to others, is just nationalistic nonsense. That the minister for citizenship would associate language with “integration” and the state of Australia’s multiculturalism model, which he claimed should not be taken for granted and is at risk, should be seen as a sign of danger. But there are more signs of danger out there – most notably the government’s plans to privatise the visa application system. “We are genuinely seeking a partnership to design, implement and run Australia’s visa business,” the Department of Immigration’s assistant secretary, Andrew Kefford, is reporting saying, in a brief to private companies. “We are keen to explore commercial value-added services that will assist in attracting people to Australia.”

If this goes through, this would mean that a private company – one which has profit as its main purpose – would be called to run Australia’s online visa processing, something that would automatically transform the right to live and work in Australia into a commodity. As anyone who has lodged a visa application knows, the process is already arduous, long, time-consuming, nerve-wrecking – and expensive. There are people who have borrowed to be able to lodge an application, and repaying the debt once their application is successful. It is a process that is becoming more and more expensive in time, bringing lots of revenue to Australia’s coffers. If this revenue goes to whichever private entity Australia chooses to outsource the process, what provisions will be made to ensure that a visa still retains its humanitarian aspect? If, as it is rumored, a ‘premium’ visa process is reserved to those better-off, what ensures that it visas are not going to be sold to the highest bidders?

And more importantly, how is Peter Dutton – so adamant, in his defence of the laws “to ensure companies providing communications services and devices in Australia have an obligation to assist agencies with decryption” of data, that these companies which will be called to process the millions of applications Australia is dealing with in a year, will not make a commodity out of people’s personal data? Who will watch the watchmen?