‘Over there’ isn’t that far anymore
FOR most people in this country the break-up of the refugee camp in Calais this week was something happening “over there”. The camp, which was in existence for more than seven years and was known as the Jungle, was home to between 6,000 and 8,000 refugees from war-torn counties in Asia and Africa.
Among them were hundreds of unaccompanied minors who had been separated from their parents somewhere along the journey from their former homes right across a continent.
Last year there was a partial break-up of the camp, after which a reported 200 minors have been unaccounted for. Can you imagine a town the size of, say, Nenagh, Co Tipperary, in which 200 children go missing?
Before last week’s break-up, there were 544 unaccompanied minors in the camp. It is as yet unclear as to how many of them have been accounted for and rehoused elsewhere.
The camp grew out of efforts by large groups who had fled to Europe intent on going all the way to Britain. They made it across land through a number of countries, right to the edge of mainland Europe, where things came to a standstill, near the mouth of the Channel Tunnel. Since then, some managed to get smuggled across the Channel, but most saw their dream die in the squalor.
Why the big attraction for Britain? For some, it was the nirvana where they would be reunited with family who went before them. Others saw it as the best chance of a new life, particularly in terms of already having at least a grasp of the language. Whether they would have been received with open arms is another matter, but when you’ve been through what those people had, such matters are mere detail.
Over the course of the last week, the refugees have been bussed out of Calais and relocated to 451 reception centres — mainly large, disused buildings in towns and villages across northern France.
In some quarters, the reception has been appalling. The New York Times reported from the village of Croisilles, which is 120km from Calais.
“We don’t want them!” the demonstrators shouted at the arrivals.
The report went on: “‘This is our home’ others yelled at the darkened, disused retirement home where the migrants are being housed. Inside the building a young Sudanese man pressed his face to the window and looked out at the angry crowd, bemused.”
The report pointed out that there were others who showed compassion for people who still had nowhere to call home. But put yourself in the shoes of those refugees, having fled from the destruction of their homes, and probable death, to be met with a barrage of insults demanding that they clear off somewhere else and become somebody else’s problem.
While few in this country could relate to being treated with such inhumanity, many of those who fled the Famine in the middle of the 19th century would have no problem relating to it.
While all of that is happening “over there”, the events of the last few days should have brought home that over there is no longer as far away as it used to be.
For decades we were accustomed to scenes from squalid refugee camps in outposts of the Middle East, Africa, and Asia.
Calais is practically on our doorstep, Greece and Italy not much further away. All are countries to which we are linked politically and economically.
It is no longer sustainable to pretend that the phenomenon of migration is something that can be filed away as tugging at our collective consciousness, but not impacting on daily lives.
Yet that appears to be the stance in official circles. The Irish government agreed last year to receive 4,000 refugees, of which 2,622 were to come from Italy and Greece, which has hosted most of those fleeing war in Syria in particular.
As of last week, just 69 from Italy and Greece have been relocated here, according to the Department of Justice. Ports in Italy and Greek islands are teeming with those who have fled for their lives, yet apparently there are insurmountable issues in processing them fast enough for this country to take up its complement.
The lack of urgency is highlighted by the fact that the relocation is being handled by the Department of Justice. Is it appropriate that a department primarily concerned with security is organising the State’s reaction to a humanitarian crisis?
In the absence of leadership, it might be expected that the opposition would hold the Government to account for its inaction, or possible apathy, in dealing with this issue. But apart from a few individuals here and there, the opposition largely sees little political capital to be made on the issue so it passes up on its responsibilities.
As always, the body politic reacts where pressure is applied and it would appear that other matters are preoccupying the general public right now.
There are pockets of compassion that hark back to a time when the country as a whole had a reservoir of compassion for those fleeing death and destruction.
Last year, 800 families pledged to house unaccompanied minors in their homes, but the lack of urgency to act has made the offers redundant.
Such generosity needs to be harnessed, because it does hint at the possibility of greater engagement by the general public if some leadership was provided.
One way or the other, burying heads in the sand about migration will only suffice for so long. The current cause is mainly war. There will always be those who are fleeing persecution of one sort of another in parts of the world where human rights are routinely abused or ignored.
More than any of that, though, it is inevitable that migration will in the future be fuelled by climate change. A foretaste of what is to come has been experienced in parts of Africa and Asia over the last two years through the climate phenomenon knowns as El Nino.
East Africa, in particular, has been badly hit by weather that oscillates between drought and excessive rains, which combine to destroy any prospects of harvesting food from the land.
That has caused hardship now, but if trends continue the day will fast arrive when large tracts of the globe will become inhabitable. That will deliver major changes to the whole character of migration.
We can, in this country, prepare for the future and deal more effectively and compassionately with the present.
In the absence of political leadership the onus to lead falls on civic society.
Hopefully, more urgency will be shown by all of us to locate, and act on, a collective compassion that has been sadly lacking up to now.
