(en) wsm.ie: Thoughts after visiting Calais informal migrant
camp
He phrase 'European Values' has been a staple in the lexicon of 'high-end' European
political discourse for fifty years. Always drivelled with unabashed self-righteousness
and conceit, these values, which Europe supposedly espouses, include tolerance,
liberalism, solidarity and a steadfast commitment to human rights. ---- Of the places in
Europe I have visited, in nowhere more than the 'Calais Jungle' has it been so evident
that these lauded values stand in stark contrast with reality. ---- About fifteen minutes
by coach, outside the French town of Calais (past the newly erected, razor-wire topped
fence) you will come across one of several armed squadrons of French police on permanent
station. If you speak to these men, they will warn you - clutching their automatic guns -
not to enter the camp behind them, it is full of dangerous people. Inside you may be
mugged or beaten. Choosing not to heed their warnings, you will find inside the camp not
this population of criminals- only people and families victimised by war and poverty,
six-thousand of them.
The camp itself covers several square kilometres of wasteland, some of it a former
landfill. Paths are dirt tracks which turn to rivers in the rain and are permanently
flooded around the few ad hoc tap systems that have been constructed. The water from the
taps is contaminated with e-coli. Prior to our arrival there had been virtually no
toilets, the camp we heard, had been strewn with human waste. Now there are some toilets,
which are generally overflowing - more people opting to walk to the edges of the camp
rather than face the drop toilets - a taste and smell which I cannot begin to describe.
There are no bins anywhere as there is nobody to collect; heaps of smouldering rubbish
polka dot where people live, left are mounds empty blackened cans of a cheap 7%alc beer.
Most people live in two or three man tents, many broken and torn, repaired, insulated with
old duvets. Hundreds of tents we saw are in areas which will surely be underwater come winter.
There are larger timber framed constructions too: An Orthodox Church ran by a man named
Solomon, people of all creeds are welcome. There are 'restaurants' and shops run mainly by
Afghans, who generally have been there longer (many since the US invasion and occupation
of their country). They would have had slightly more access to resources for an initial
investment than for example many of the Africans who are fleeing extreme poverty. Graffiti
and art works colour the tarpaulins on the sides of larger structures- some, murals of
animals, or representations of nationalities - some as direct as 'I need to go to UK' and
'USA OUT'.
The people of the camp are heroic. A large portion of them young men like myself, though
who have lived through oppression and devastation I cannot imagine. There are women and
children too, for them the camp is inherently more dangerous. The crouched nature of
living in a tent does not fit these people, they are tall and proud, they are among the
gentlest and friendliest I have ever met. They have nothing, yet exude generosity. Most
somehow remain hopeful.
Nightly many young men attempt to make it to the UK through the channel tunnel; they try
to hold on to the sides, roofs or undercarriages of speeding trains or climb into the
backs of moving trucks. On our last day I remember walking from one side of the camp to
the other, behind a Syrian man supported on either side by two friends, hobbling towards
the medical tent; his ankle severely broken after the previous night's failed attempt.
We heard reports of broken limbs and injuries resulting not from failed attempts at
train-jumping, but from the batons of French police. During our visit to the camp the
police began running patrols inside - they walked in three teams of four or five in full
combat gear, automatic guns unholstered. Frequently throughout the day, there are
helicopters and drones flying low over the camp. Given what the people in Calais are
fleeing, this level of hostility and militarism probably came as little shock; I could
only view it, through privileged eyes with deepening cynicism and fear.
Since coming home I hear media reports like 'eighteenth migrant killed at the tunnel since
the beginning of June' hit by a train or electrocuted. The Eurotunnel spokesperson
complaining that the crisis is bad for business, this Cameron deems 'very concerning' as
he expresses 'every sympathy for holidaymakers who have had their travel plans disrupted'.
I taste acid at the back of my throat.
From the activist website 'Calais Migrant Solidarity':
'16th October: a 16 year old from Afghanistan was run over by a train at the Eurotunnel,
their body unidentifiable after being "torn to shreds over 400 metres"'
'15th October: a 30 year old Syrian woman was run over and killed on the A16 highway, on
the approach to the eurotunnel'
It seems the media will make every effort to dehumanise the victims of the Calais Jungle,
the victims of our wars and our murderous border policies. They frame the issue in
quasi-intellectual terms, as one of 'grave importance' which we should 'get right'. The
human tragedies recorded in clinical language, for they are not us, they are Orwell's
'unpeople'. They separate us from them with soundbites of 'economic migrants', 'swarms',
'terrorists', 'illegality'.
The only people who are successfully dehumanised are those who accept it.
WORDS: Sean Prior
http://www.wsm.ie/c/thoughts-visiting-calais-migrant-camp
