The Politics and Geopolitics of Immigration

Tackling immigration is not easy. But politicians have a duty to stop vilifying migrants. Instead of pandering to the hard-right, we need to devise a more humane policy response.

I was listening to the Today Programme this morning. It featured a report from a journalist who was on the French coast near Boulogne with the French police seeking migrants and smugglers on the day that France announced a change in its policy with regards to small boats. It got me thinking about the use of language and how easy it is to simply accept a version of events without stopping to think.

Just quickly to recap. Until today, French police were able to stop migrants seeking to make the dangerous crossing to the UK whilst they were on land, but as soon as the migrants set foot in the water, French police could no longer intervene. This restriction is apparently both for the safety of the migrants themselves (to avoid injury or drowning should a scuffle ensue between them and the police) and also to avoid potential legal action against the French police should either of those eventualities arise.

The people smugglers have adapted their approach to this legal constraint. They now inflate their rubber boats in a barn or some other location near the beach, but out of sight of the police – often at some distance from the refugees and migrants seeking to cross to the UK. They place the inflated boat on the top of a car and drive that car at full speed onto a beach – frequently so fast that the car gets stuck in the sand. They launch the boat from the top of the car, straight into the Channel and then drive the boat along the coast to where the desperate passengers are waiting up to their waists in water, queuing for a chance to haul themselves onboard. Like a taxi, the boat then picks up those who can scramble and fight their way aboard (normally the men), before heading off, fully laden, to the UK – all whilst the French police look on impotently from the beach. However, from today, French police will be able to interdict the boats up to 300 metres off the coast, meaning that the ‘water taxi approach of the smugglers will no longer work.

What struck me during the report, was when the interviewer waded out to speak to the people in the water. He described children perched precariously on their parents’ shoulders, you could hear the shouting and feel the tension. The reporter then spoke to Luna, a woman in a migrant camp near Dunkerque (where a charity is currently feeding 900 people/day). She was from Somalia and described her repeated attempts to get on the boat to the UK. As a woman, she had never learnt to swim (‘only men learn how to swim’) and she was unable to compete with the stronger men who were able to pull themselves up onto the boat. But despite her repeated failures to get on a boat, she was determined to keep trying until she was successful.

There was so much in the short interview with Luna. Firstly, the blatant and unjust inequality of being a woman. An injustice that is prevalent all around us in every-day life, not just in Somalia. Why should women be treated as second-rate citizens, not taught to swim, nor given a chance for education, whistled at when walking down the street, or feel unsafe going home late at night? It is an every-day injustice that most of us (men, certainly) turn a blind eye to it, simply moving on past it, not pausing to think about it and address it. That is why organisations like Education for All or Inspiring Girls International, which directly address women’s empowerment, are so important. If we leave women behind, society as a whole loses out.

The second thing I was struck by was the blind prejudice with which we are all called to treat migrants. I envisaged myself, standing chest-deep in the cold waters of the North Sea, with my daughter on my shoulders waiting nervously for an unseaworthy boat to come and pick me up for the perilous journey across 30 kms of open sea. I would not willingly undertake that journey. I would certainly not do it for the promise of a pittance from the UK welfare state. I would only be standing there, risking my life and that of my daughter if I was utterly desperate. So desperate that anything would be better than the life I had left behind. So desperate that any risk would be worth taking. And that’s the point. The “migrants” that the hard-right so love to vilify, that the mobs try and burn out of their houses and sanctuaries and that the British press so happily denigrates, are real people. Fellow human beings, fleeing the horrors that geopolitics is increasingly meting out to the world - war, famine, abuse, atrocities that we, safely in our western homes and lifestyles, cannot even begin to imagine, and increasingly, climate.

The term “migrant” has become a form of abuse. A word used to stir up hatred, fear, resentment. In fact, it should encourage the very opposite response – mercy, pity, compassion, generosity. People do not happily choose to trust their lives to the smuggling gangs who are making money out of others’ misery. They do not freely elect to leave their family, their culture, their friends, their society to get on a boat and cross the Channel. They would not do it if there was another option. They do it out of desperation. They do it out of wretched need. And they do it because they have no other way of getting to the UK, since the British government closed off all legal refugee and asylum routes.

Instead of vilifying the desperate people who seek to create a better life out of the horror of a terrifying sea crossing, the UK Government needs a different approach. Luna’s story clearly shows that, like the ‘war on drugs’, the war on illegal migration cannot be won. The ‘demand’ for crossings gives life to the ‘offer’ of a smugglers’ boat. If there is no other way to get into the UK, the demand will continue to generate the offer.

Instead of engaging in meaningless and emotive slogans – whether ‘smashing the gangs’ or ‘stopping the boats’ – the government should:

- Moderate its language. The tone of discourse and the choice of words matters. Dehumanising refugees, asylum seekers and migrants gives succour to the divisive politics of the hard right and normalises their racism. We need a kinder discourse, a more human narrative – and of course, the media has to shoulder a great deal of the responsibility for the toxicity of the discourse around migration.

- Seize control of the narrative. We all need to have the courage to point out the economic benefits of immigration – unemployment remains low (at 4.6%), there are still over 800,000 vacancies in the UK economy and inflation – though higher than desired – remains within in acceptable bounds. If there were no benefit to immigration, all those economic indicators would point in the opposite direction.

- Create legal migration and asylum routes. After all, those who have made their way to the UK in defiance of dangers and obstacles have demonstrated a strength of purpose and character which is impressive and laudable and the majority of those seeking to enter the UK in this way are young, fit and strong and so unlikely to be a burden on our welfare state – in fact, they generally want to work;

- Allow refugees and migrants to work, giving them dignity and a way to earn money instead of living at the public expense and allowing them to make a contribution to society;

- Process all asylum claims within a clearly-defined period (three months is probably too short, but certainly no more than six months) the decision is made: stay or leave.

- Properly fund overseas aid so that there is economic opportunity, training, investment and hope in source countries.

- Invest in infrastructure in vulnerable countries to address both climate change mitigation and adaptation.

- Use foreign policy properly. Don’t sit on the fence (or ‘hug the parapet’ as one particularly inept manager once instructed me to do when I was at the Foreign Office). Seek, instead, to use foreign policy and the strength of diplomacy to find solutions to conflicts.

- And, finally, the government should stop obsessing about the small boats – this is the preferred territory of the hard-right and merely plays into their narrative, legitimising their xenophobia.

16,000 people have crossed the Channel in small boats so far this year: in the absolute, that is a lot of people. But it pales into insignificance next to the official immigration figures. Net legal immigration into the UK in was 463,000 in 2021, 764,000 in 2022, 685,000 in 2023 and 460,000 in 2024 - a total of nearly 2.5 million people moving legally into the UK since 2021.

If there is a problem with access to services in the UK, it is not caused by the 16,000 people who have taken their lives into their own hands to flee horror by trusting to leaking boats that limp across the Channel: they have become a useful and easy scapegoat for the social ills of British society. Those ills are rather due to 15 years of ideologically-motivated austerity and under-investment in the public services and to the massive increase in legal immigration caused by Brexit which led to the disappearance of easy-to-access and flexible labour from the EU (which is ironic, since the hard-right supported Brexit as a way of cutting immigration).

None of this is easy. But current policies and discourse about immigration means the Government continues to fight an unequal battle on ground of the hard-right’s choosing. Wrestling back the argument, taking control of the narrative and changing the policy approach offers a chance for a more just, more equitable, better society. Failure to confront the hard-right on immigration, on territory of our choice merely cedes them the ground and guarantees their continued resurgence.

For the sake of people like Luna and so that parents no longer need to stand chest-deep in the cold waters of the Channel with their children perched precariously on their shoulders as the waves wash around them, we must change the way we think about immigration. It is not just a matter of policy, it is a matter of basic humanity.

You can listen to the piece here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002dmmh

The main piece runs from 1:33:30 – 1:41:30 and the interview with Luna starts at: 1:40:23