My own research into second-generation Tongan transnationalism began in 2005 and entails the collection of qualitative and quantitative data, primarily from second-generation Tongans in Australia aged between 18 and 30. This includes in-depth interviews, which will be conducted with participants from six different locations in Australia, and email surveys repeated weekly for a total of four months to track participants’ transnational connections practices. In addition, an email discussion list has been established to encourage a continuing dialogue among participants about the issues associated with transnationalism. The project will also entail several short periods of fieldwork in Tonga, to interview 18- to 30-year-olds who remain in the islands.
A pilot of the interviews and email surveys has recently been completed with a sample of 10 participants from Melbourne, aged between 20 and 29, with six females and four males. The sample is varied in terms of religious affiliation, occupation, assets and financial obligations, and household configurations, yet some clear patterns can be seen in the transnational practices and attitudes of this small but diverse group.
Overall, the participants have a low level of involvement with Tonga, maintaining contact with just a few family members, and three have no contact with anyone in Tonga. There is a slightly higher level of involvement with other Tongans in the diaspora, beyond Melbourne. This limited contact with family and friends in Tonga and elsewhere is mostly by phone and email and varies in frequency from daily to yearly. For some, their contact with relatives elsewhere in the diaspora also involves sending gifts occasionally, but none sends money and in one case a young man was the recipient of money from family overseas. Most of the participants attend churches with predominantly Tongan congregations but have no involvement in other Tongan organisations in Melbourne. The churches held fundraising events every two or three months, which most attended, and while most of the participants said they donated amounts between $205 and $100 on these occasions, not all events were to raise funds to send to Tonga.
The participants’ direct ties to Tonga are limited, although most have visited the islands either for holidays or for church events. They have a low level of interest in Tongan politics, but keep up with current events in Tonga through Tongan newspapers, Internet sites and radio programs, and by word of mouth. Most say they have little or no sense of obligation or responsibility to the Church in Tonga, to the royal family, or to the country itself; where they do feel any obligation it is only to family. However, only three of the 10 send money to family directly and the remainder send either clothing or gifts occasionally, or give money to their parents when asked, to be forwarded to family in Tonga, or they contribute nothing at all. The pattern of remitting found in this group supports the argument made by James (1993: 360) that the ‘transnational corporations of kin’ central to the MIRAB model no longer operate for Tongans, with people tending to remit on an individual basis or as a nuclear family.
An interesting pattern that emerged in the pilot interviews was that some young women from the diaspora were developing relationships with men in Tonga while on holidays or church-related visits. Two of the six women interviewed had previously had a boyfriend in Tonga and two were currently in such a relationship; in all cases, their main connection to Tonga during the relationship was with their boyfriends rather than family. They reported sending these men gifts of clothing, DVDs and CDs, rather than money, with their main expenditure being on phone calls to Tonga. Although the males interviewed did not mention similar relationships, one woman claimed as many males as females were involved with partners in Tonga. Another woman suggested that for men this was more likely to be ‘a fling or whatever and [they] come back and [do] not feel any connection to the person in Tonga’, while another said the young men ‘mainly go there to sow their wild oats’ whereas women ‘are looking more for the whole marriage thing’.
When asked about their sense of responsibility to family in Tonga, the participants’ responses were mixed. One woman (27, single) replied: ‘I’ve never felt that. You know, my parents, if there has been any responsibilities or obligations to family, it has usually been my parents and my uncles and my aunties, but it’s normally stopped there too, it’s never really come down to the kids.’ Nevertheless, she estimated that she had sent about $1,000 to Tonga in the past year, as well as clothing and gifts. Two other women said their parents had not encouraged them to have any connection to Tonga, and while one (single, 26) felt no responsibility to anyone there and sent no remittances, the other (single, 28) explained that she did feel a sense of obligation, ‘because they don’t have what we have here’. She estimated that she had sent about $600 in the past year, as well as some gifts, to the three relatives in Tonga with whom she maintained contact. Two men who at present have no direct contact with family in Tonga had different reasons for this: one (single, 20) had previously sent money but felt it was more than he wanted to give, and said: ‘I see sometimes … them using that as an excuse or as a gate to open any time they need anything.’ The other (married, 29) explained: ‘I guess one day we’re going to end up like our parents, supporting family back in Tonga. I won’t do it yet, but I know one day I’m going to and I guess my kids will take over that role one day.’ For now, he gives money only through his parents, when they ask him.
All of the participants readily acknowledged that without remittances Tongans in the islands would suffer. All predicted that the standard of living would decline, and some made comments such as ‘They would probably starve’, or ‘I think they might kill themselves!’, or asked ‘How are they going to live if their family from overseas aren’t going to lend a hand?’ Most felt, however, that even now, with high levels of remittances, Tonga was struggling. One woman (single, 27) commented: ‘I don’t like going back to Tonga and seeing people suffer and then it makes me feel worse when I come back to Australia … Whenever I’m there visiting I feel that the poor are getting poorer and the rich are just getting richer and it just builds my anger and makes me feel frustrated for the people that live there … the whole political system, I think, is corrupt and I just feel sorry for the people that live in Tonga.’
Almost all participants commented on Tonga’s political problems, with one woman (single, 25) saying, ‘Oh, Tonga! Everybody’s got problems there! There’s [sic] money problems, there’s politics, there’s parliament, there’s [sic] quite a few.’ Another woman (single, 26) said, ‘All I hear about Tonga: everything’s corrupt.’ These problems appear to be putting them off being more involved with Tonga, or taking more interest in Tongan news. As one young woman (single, 28) observed about Tongan politics, ‘Stuff I found out kind of put me off wanting to know.’
The six-week Tongan Public Service strike that ended in September 2005 put a tremendous strain on the resources of strikers and their families. Tongans overseas rallied to provide support through donations of money and food. They also voiced their concerns about the situation in Tonga, and in Auckland a street march and protest meeting were held in support of the strikers. This support was not surprising, as Tongan migrants have not only provided remittances but have exerted political influence in Tonga for decades. In the 1980s, for example, they brought their influence to bear during a strike by nurses and when legislation relating to land owned by Tongans overseas was being considered (see Helu 1985). They have also been vocal in their support of the pro-democracy movement that emerged in Tonga in the 1980s, and expressed their concerns about the many political scandals that have erupted in Tonga in the intervening years. As Hau’ofa noted in 1994, ‘[F]rom their bases abroad they are exerting significant influences on their homeland’ (p. 423).
The extent to which members of the second generation were involved in supporting the recent strike is unclear, but the attitudes of those interviewed towards Tongan politics suggests they would be less likely than their parents to actively engage in political struggle from the diaspora. During the strike, Sefita Ha’ouli, news director at an Auckland radio station, commented that in New Zealand, there was ‘a little group of young Tongans growing up … [whose] understanding of the issue in Tonga is such that they’re turned off by it. They’re saying we don’t want a bar of it. They are supportive of what is being done, but they don’t want to be engaged. And I think this may be a trend that we’ll see as things progress’ (Pacific Beat online, Radio Australia, August 2, 2005).
In another interview during the strike, Dr Malakai Koloamatangi, a Tongan political scientist at Canterbury University in New Zealand, said the Tongan Government needed to realise ‘that a lot of what is going on depends to a great extent on how Tongans overseas provide support for Tonga. I mean, in just the simple matter of government expenditure, if Tongans overseas were to cut their remittances drastically, it would affect the government’s ability … to stay above water, so it’s that simple’ (Pacific Beat online, Radio Australia, August 26, 2005).
The issue of remittances cannot be separated from the broader connections between Tonga and its population in the diaspora, particularly the emotional ties and sense of belonging to the island nation that are shared by many Tongan migrants. Clearly, if this sense of belonging and other feelings of connection to Tonga are not as strong for their children, the likelihood is that they will be less willing to send remittances. If this is so, it raises the question of Tonga’s future as a viable state: what alternatives are there to redress this likely drop in remittance income?