Let's open Europe to immigration

Why Pope Francis's visit to Lampedusa highlights a challenge for all of us.

The symbolic power of the trip of Pope Francis to Lampedusa has drawn the world's attention to the persecution and deaths of migrants who attempt to join the European continent. The Pope's visit also highlights a striking paradox: although Europe needs more immigration, public discourse about it is tinted with mistrust and fear.

Indeed, taking into account the demographic evolution in Europe since the end of WWII, and more specifically the steady birth rate decline and the increase in life expectancy, it appears that our continent needs the contribution of immigration to escape the perpetual weakening of social security, the raising of retirement age, and the shrinking of pensions.

Yet in recent decades, immigration policies implemented all around Europe by every party and every political leader regardless of their political backgrounds, have been characterised by distrust. Hence, these policies are extremely restrictive.

The establishment of the European agency Frontex, whose main mission consists in intercepting migrants at the European borders, encapsulates current immigration policies in Europe. Distinguished by its violent interventions, Frontex became the symbol of "Fortress Europe", a closed and self-sufficient continent, a territory remaining unmoved by those who risk their life during long months, who do not hesitate to follow dangerous routes and who hope that a better life awaits them. Last year, more than 500 people coming from Africa died, to our worrying indifference, while attempting to reach Lampedusa. At the very moment of this tragedy, millions of other refugees were shut up in prison-like detention centres.

The "Dublin II" agreements are another illustration of European immigration policies. These agreements enable Member States to send back illegal migrants to the country that they first cross when they arrived on the European territory. Given the fact that Greece is, along with the south of Italy, the main entry point for migrants in Europe, many refugees land in Greece. Such a situation is unmanageable for local authorities and is exploited by Greek neo-Nazis to guarantee electoral and social support for their political party Golden Dawn, and enable them to freely persecute and kill migrants.

Distrust of migrants is now the dominant political position in Europe. It is not a coincidence. This stance embodies the ideological victory of extreme right-wing partisans and is the result of their fierce struggle to impose their viewpoint. As they knew that open antisemitism and racism would not lead them to an electoral victory, many extreme right-wing parties opted for the strategy of stigmatising immigrants and gradually imposed their opinions.

The implications of this ideological success from the far right are extremely painful: on the one hand less social rights for the entire society, and on the other hand more violence and more racist murders just like in Greece.

Similarly, the way in which extreme right-wing street movements and far right political parties complement one another is obvious. When some, sometimes very close to power, claim to be "normalised", they actually ensure the ideological victory of their political family and intend to raise tensions that enable violent acts.

However, we have to understand that more immigration is necessary in Europe not only because we need to ensure high level of social rights, but also because it is a necessity for democracy and human rights in the world.

First, welcoming more immigrants would increase the number of persons who stand to benefit from the rights as guaranteed in Europe. On condition that such a policy would not deprive poor countries of their elites, more people could enjoy democratic values.

Second, the future of Europe and the future of democracy are tightly linked. Stimulating immigration toward Europe could expand the European market, galvanise innovation, create an economy more open to the world and more dynamic and thus enable our old continent to compete with the new economic leaders whose political systems are often too authoritarian. As a consequence, we can imagine that emerging countries would be more attracted to democracy, and thus that democratic values and practices could spread worldwide, as it would be still recognized as an effective model of development.

If Europe wants to meet the challenge of immigration, that is to say face its future, it must win a cultural victory: to overcome distrust.

Such a shift implies the end of indifference to the "penning" of immigrants, the imprisonment of people - who, by the way, often come from former European colonies in Africa and Asia - in detention centers where living conditions are inappropriate for human beings. It also means fighting for equality, to set out a continent free from racism and antisemitism. It means placing democratic values at the heart of the common Europe project; and it also means rejecting austerity dogma as the current leading political principle of European institutions and governments.

The future of our continent and the future of democracy in the world are at stake.

Benjamin Abtan is President of the European Grassroots Antiracist Movement - EGAM

Pope Francis visits migrants on the Italian island of Lampedusa. (Photo: Getty.)

Benjamin Abtan is the President of the European Grassroots Antiracist Movement (EGAM).

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism