The story of the Chagossians

Vidisha Biswas investigates the story of the Chagossians - forcibly removed from their Indian Ocean

Four decades and three legal defeats later, the British Foreign Office is still unwilling to allow some 5000 Chagossians to return to their island homes.

It has tried virtually everything in its power to prevent them, from pretending the Chagos islands had never been inhabited - other than by migrant labourers - to invoking the royal prerogative to overturn a British High Court ruling.

Now several hundred have agreed to renounce their right to return. Despite this, the government has been reluctant to meet even the modest demands that they are making in lieu.

The tragedy of the Chagossians dates back to the 1960s, when Washington decided that the island of Diego Garcia was perfect setting for a US military base. Diego Garcia is the largest of the 60 plus islands that form the Chagos archipelago, located in the heart of the Indian Ocean.

Britain bought these islands from Mauritius in 1965 for £3 million. Its population is estimated to have been about 2000 at the time. The dilemma facing the US and UK governments was how to clear the islands of its inhabitants, to make way for the American base.

They resolved this dilemma by tricking or intimidating the islanders into leaving. “We were then dumped in the sordid slums of the Mauritian capital, Port Louis,” recalls Olivier Bancoult, leader of almost 4000 Chagossians, many of whom are based, to this day, in those same slums.

In return for the use of the island, the US is believed to have given the UK a $14m discount on its purchase of a Polaris nuclear missile system. But it was ten years from the time of expulsion, before the islanders received any sort of compensation from the British government. The money when it did arrive, was - at £3,000-a-head - both too little and came too late, insists Mr Bancoult.

A British High Court judgement last year denounced the government’s actions as “repugnant”. Both the High Court and the Court of Appeal ruled that the use of the royal prerogative, which allows decisions to be made by ministers without consulting Parliament, had been unlawful. The Court of Appeal also refused the Foreign Office leave to appeal to the House of Lords.

That should have been the end of the matter. But earlier this year, the Foreign Office decided to petition the Law Lords directly for the right to appeal. If the Law Lords cede to the government’s demands then the case will be heard in 2008. The legal battle so far is estimated to have cost the taxpayer up to £4m.

“The ruling about the royal prerogative did not apply just to the Chagos islands,” explains a spokesperson for the Foreign Office. “It has implications for other overseas territories as well. If royal prerogatives are challengeable, it makes all legislation unsound. That is why the Foreign Office decided to petition the Law Lords.”

But Richard Gifford, the Chagossians' lawyer, thinks otherwise. “The islanders have been delayed by endless litigation from returning home,” he said. “The government has used every means of obstructing them in the hope perhaps that as many as possible will die off, and the instinct to go back will lessen.”

If that indeed is the case, then government efforts appear to have been successful, at least as far as the British Indian Ocean People’s Party (BIOPP) is concerned. This group, which comprises of several hundred Chagossian families that have migrated in recent years to Crawley, West Sussex, no longer desires to return to the Chagos archipelago.

“The way of life now, compared to the way of life 40 years ago, is completely different," explains Allen Vincatassin, leader of the BIOPP. “Our island homes, moreover, have long been reduced to wild, forest land. To make them habitable once again will mean spending huge amounts of public money.

“It will be near impossible to take up from where we left off. The islander’s can have a much better future in the UK. This is where they can recover from what they have lost and all that they have had to suffer.”

Easier said than done. Mr Vincatassin’s party has been campaigning since 2004 for Chagossians- who are all British passport holders - to be entitled to welfare benefits immediately following arrival in the UK.

Their demands were rejected by the British High Court last year. The matter is currently being considered by the Court of Appeal and a decision is expected within the next month.

“My people have to pass the habitual residence test. They can’t claim state benefits for three months,” explains Mr Vincatassin.

“This may not seem like a very long waiting period to most people. But for many Chagossians, who arrive in the UK with next to nothing, it can mean the difference between life and death.

“The government says that the residency rule applies to all British citizens. It was on these grounds that the High Court dismissed our claims.

“But we believe that we should be exceptions to that rule. After all, we have had to give up our homes in the name of British national interest. They owe us at least this much. But even in this regard, the UK government has so far failed us.

“Still we will not give up hope. We eagerly await the Court of Appeal's judgement. Till the very end, we will hold on to the hope that Britain will eventually heed the call of justice.”

Olivier Bancoult, however, accuses Mr Vincatassin of selling out. He said: “The only way the UK government can redeem itself is by allowing the Chagossians to return home as soon as possible, and by putting in place the necessary infrastructure that will allow them to carry on with their lives as before.

“I speak for the majority of Chagossians, who share the same demands. In any case, irrespective of whether or not all the islanders ultimately return, the point is that they should be given the right and the means to return... in other words, the choice.

“I find it hard to believe the lengths the British government will go to. Every time we think we have won the fight, it finds a new way of prolonging our misery. Many of us have given up hope of ever seeing our homeland again.

“How can a government that claims that it gives the greatest importance to human rights refuse to recognise the rights and dignity of the islanders, who too are British citizens?”

Vidisha Biswas specialised in literature before deciding to pursue a career in journalism. Her interests include human rights, foreign politics, music and philosophy.
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The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Jacques Chirac among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hoped to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.