"Everyone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution"
Universal Declaration of Human Rights 1948, Article 14
It is conflicting emotions and experiences this week that have compelled me to sit down and try to draw together into a blog post the numerous strands of thought which are currently floating around my brain. It risks being both much too long and somewhat confused, but hopefully a few vaguely coherent thoughts will be discernible somewhere within it.
I have the pleasure of spending most of this
week in St Chad’s Sanctuary, a place regular readers of this blog will know is
very dear to my heart. It is summer school this week, when our students are
invited to spend the week participating in a variety of activities and it
is certainly no sacrifice to dedicate a week of my school holidays to spending
time with them.
There have been any number of highlights,
among which:
·
The week began on a
high as I invited 12 students from 7 different countries with varying levels of
English to explore life and identity in a poetry writing workshop (there may be
another post to follow with some of the results of that one). As well as serving as a testament to their engagement and enthusiasm for learning, some profound ideas were shared, even with very few words.
·
Playing football with
a group of young men certainly both fitter and more talented than me, but who
were determined to include me and who, along with their energy and enthusiasm, exhibited
a sportsmanship and concern for one another from which the premiership players have
much to learn.
·
Tuesday was our annual
“school trip” which this year took us to a National Trust property outside
Birmingham. There were exclamations of pleasure over fresh air and views of the
countryside. There were discussions in the vegetable gardens about memories of farms
back home. There was sharing and conversation and games and music and laughter.
·
Taking a group to the
library where, with lots of support, two ladies with virtually no English
were able to become members of the library and were clearly delighted to take
away dual language picture books to improve their English.
·
There is more still to
come and I am really looking forward to this afternoon's end of year barbecue
and celebration event and to seeing my students collect their certificates,
well-deserved after a year of hard work.
Meanwhile every day the media swirls with
stories of the desperation of those still trying to seek sanctuary on our
shores. Except often, it is not that desperation which dominates the headlines:
it is the inconvenience of traffic jams, the determination to build a better
barrier, the complaints that the French aren’t doing enough, the myths and contortions that are
allowed to shape our understanding of a complicated situation. Myths that mean it is acceptable to "blame the migrants" for social strains which clearly would be more appropriately blamed on the ever-increasing concentration of our nation's wealth in the hands of the privileged few.
I know we have, as a nation, a long history
of blaming the French, always an easy target as the butt of our jokes, but
while their failure to stop migrants reaching the UK is oft cited, it is rarely mentioned that the French received more than twice as many asylum
claims as us last year and rank above us (but below Germany, Sweden and Italy) among
European countries welcoming the highest numbers of refugees. All of these pale
into insignificance compared to the countries which welcome the most displaced
people, all of which are in the Middle-East, Asia and Africa (with Turkey taking
the top spot in 2014). It is by no means true that “they all
want to come here.”
Actually, Britain hosts less that 1% of the
world’s refugees. At a time when increased conflict and the ravages of climate
change are creating the greatest refugee crisis since the second world war, that
is a shocking, and to my mind shameful statistic.
Among yesterday's headlines was the news that one young man died, the ninth so
far this year to die on that stage of the journey: to be added to the hundreds
who have died in the Mediterranean, and the deaths in the Sahara of which
no-one even keeps count. The news coverage spoke dispassionately of the death
of a “migrant” or “Sudanese male”. ... but he was, first and foremost, surely, a human being. A son and probable a brother, perhaps a husband and maybe a father. Unnamed, unknown, forgotten. I wonder
how different the headlines would have been if he had been a young white
British man instead.
David Cameron’s response was to express concern
... which might have been encouraging: except his concern was neither for this
young man who lost his life, nor his family or friends who may never know of his fate, nor even the others so desperate
they continue to take this same risk. No his concern was for British holiday makers facing
delays to their journeys ... where, oh where did we go so far wrong?
And then this morning I was further enraged
by another news headline, in which Cameron declares: “Britain is no safe haven” And somehow that is
supposed to be a good thing? Taking a hard line as we turn away those fleeing desperate situations we neither want to nor are able to imagine is something of which we should be proud?
I have met some of these people.
Many of the students I teach at St Chad’s
entered Britain this way. They risked their lives crossing conflict zones, the
Sahara, the Mediterranean. They left behind families, friends and familiarity. They
came because they had no other choice. They came because they had experienced poverty and hunger, violence and torture, corruption, destruction and fear. They came because they hoped
to find a place of safety. They came, too, to give their gifts and talents and
time and love to a place they believed would make them welcome. They came to
participate and contribute as much as to receive and to be appreciative of
things which, by an accident of birth, we completely take for granted. They came with hopes and dreams and aspirations. They came as human beings.
My life is infinitely richer for knowing them.
That young man who died, had he not done,
might have been one of those who I encouraged, in faltering English, to express
something of his deepest desires in a poem. He might have been one of those who
asked others to slow down so that “Teacher” could have a
kick of the ball. One of those who, looking at a vegetable garden, shared
stories about farming back home. One of those whose face would have been
wreathed in smiles receiving a very simple certificate recognising an effort
made.
For many of those who make it, Britain does,
eventually, recognise its responsibility under international law. 87% of
Eritreans who claim asylum here have their claim accepted. That is little
consolation for those who died on the way. There is nothing “bogus” or “illegal”
about these people. They have a genuine and legitimate fear which drives them
away from a desperate situation and brings them through unimaginable
trials to our shores. It is our responsibility and should be our joy to offer
them new opportunities in a place of safety.
Amidst all the talk of bigger fences and
better policing, there is a different solution to the delays for the holiday
makers that David Cameron is so concerned about. There are alternative ways to
respond to this crisis that are rarely suggested in the media or political
discourse.
We could, if we chose to, live up to our claim to be a “civilised
nation”, live up to our desire to preach freedom and democracy to the world. As a nation we are richer than we have ever been. We do not have to spend our money on fences and security. If we provided safe routes for those fleeing war, famine, persecution,
corruption, violence, poverty, and climate change, then perhaps they would
not need to risk life and limb (and traffic delays) seeking the safety, we, and
others promised we would afford them in the Refugee Convention of 1951.
