I'd promised myself I'd take a break before writing another freedom of movement diary - so much easier to write about why I'm feminist, or what books I like. But. The new policies announced by the Labour government are unconscionable. What's happening now over in the U.K. is something where people have to choose between solidarity and complicity. To be silent is to be complicit. And to be silent as a foreigner who has
relative freedom of movement - to be silent when you know something of the joys and sorrows of being foreign - is surely unforgivable.
There's no shortage of things I'm a coward over. I don't want this to be one of them.
So, what's the big deal? What has Labour done now?
This is the bastards have done. They have said that those refugees whom they graciously deign to refrain from deporting to
imprisonment, torture or death must wait five years in limbo before they are granted permanent residency. Five more years of not knowing what will happen to them. Five years of sickening uncertainty, of not being able to plan, not being able to settle down, of not being able to feel any sense of security, of not being able to build a new life
And yes, perhaps the place you came from might return to stability in five years. But if it was the place where you saw your daughters raped, where your husband was murdered in `ethnic cleansing,' where your infant children starved to death, where your best friend was tortured in prison, where your cousins disappeared, where your house came tumbling down around your ears, so that at last you fled with the clothes you wore on your back, would you want to return? Would you want to go back and live among the neighbours that betrayed you? Around the corner from the men who raped you? Would you choose to farm among the landines? For some people, there is no return. Even if the places where they had suffered had become an earthly paradise in those five years, still there would be no return.
And would you want to bet your life that you wouldn't be deported after five years regardless of the stability of where you were being sent? After all, there will be elections then too, and politically expedient decisions to be made - immigrants to be `tough' on, refugees to be criminalized - all for the sake of winning over that tabloid-readin,' beer guzzling,' pavement vomitin,' spouse abusin' BNP voter. I wouldn't bet a penny on Labour's political integrity, let alone a life.
And the rest of the immigration policies look pretty bleak too. Check this one out
Specific categories of migrants - such as those from certain countries - will also be required to hand the British government a financial bond, which they will forfeit if they fail to return home.
Don't know about you, but I'd bet that it won't be people from predominantly `white' countries who are subjected to this little gem.
Let me tell you, still near the beginning of 2005, about the year I dream of, whether waking or sleeping. Like Martin Espada, I dream that
This is the year that those
who swim the border's undertow
and shiver in boxcars
are greeted with trumpets and drums
at the first railroad crossing
on the other side;