If politics is the art of the
possible, then radicalism must
be the capacity to imagine new
possibilities
By
Gary Younge
August 14,
2018 "Information
Clearing House"
- Imagine
that Martin Luther King never
had a dream. Imagine that
instead of working outside the
narrow confines of time and
place, he had resolved to work
only within them. Imagine he had
risen to the steps of the
Lincoln Monument and announced a
five-point plan that he imagined
he could both sell to the black
community and win a majority for
in both houses of congress that
would bring civil rights
legislation that one step
closer.
But he didn’t. He chose not
to engage in the nitty gritty of
the here and now. Instead, he
addressed not what will be or
could be, but what should be.
And it is in that spirit and
tradition that I want to make
this contribution now.
I am fully aware that no
nation is going to get rid of
its border tomorrow. If you’re
looking for a discussion on
workable immigration policies
that can be enacted in the next
parliamentary session, then
watch Question Time or
listen to the Today
Programme. There you will
find people going around in
circles about what is practical
rather than bothering themselves
with what is ethical or moral.
It’s not naïve to hope that
what does not seem possible in
the foreseeable future is
nonetheless necessary and worth
fighting for. As a descendant of
slaves and the child of an
immigrant working-class single
parent family, I owe my life
today to those outrageous and
brave enough to fight for a
society that they insisted upon
even when they could not imagine
it ever materialising.
If politics is the art of the
possible, then radicalism must
be the capacity to imagine new
possibilities. ‘A map of the
world that does not include
utopia is not worth even
glancing at,’ wrote Oscar Wilde.
‘For it leaves out the one
country at which humanity is
always landing. And when
humanity lands there, it looks
out, and, seeing a better
country, sets sail.’
The map of my utopian world
has no borders. No border
guards, no barbed wire, no
passport control, no walls,
fences or barriers. The world, I
think, would be a better place
without them. I believe in the
free movement of people. As a
principle, I think we should all
be able to roam the planet and
live, love and create where we
wish. I’m about to make the case
for why that’s desirable and
what we would need to be and do
to get there, but first I want
to throw down the gauntlet to
those who oppose the notion of
open borders. What place do
Yarl’s Wood detention centre, or
the ‘jungle’ in Calais, or the
vessels in the Mediterranean,
have in your utopias? Why did
you dream of them?
Radical
transformation
Make no mistake, a world with
open borders would demand a
radical transformation of much
of what we have now. It would
demand a rethinking not only of
immigration, but our policies on
trade and war, the environment,
health and welfare, which would
in turn necessitate a
re-evaluation of our history, of
our understanding of ourselves
as a species and as a nation.
This is partly personal for
me. My parents were born and
raised in Barbados, a small
island in the Caribbean caught
in the crosswinds of colonial
ties and post-war labour
scarcity. Along with my parents,
nine of my aunts and uncles left
Barbados for lives in Britain,
the US and Canada. I have
cousins scattered across the
globe. Borders are no friends to
diasporas. They privilege
form-filling over family.
Borders exist by definition
to separate one group of people
from another, and the primary
two issues then become which
‘other’ that would be, and on
what basis they should be
separated. As such, borders are
both arbitrary and definite.
Arbitrary because they could be
drawn anywhere, and they often
move. Countries are, in the
words of Benedict Anderson,
imagined communities. Nation
states as we commonly understand
them are a relatively new idea.
‘We have made Italy,’ said
Massimo d’Azeglio, at the
meeting of the newly united
Italy in parliament in the
mid-19th century. ‘Now we must
make Italians.’ We have lived
far longer without countries
than with them. And if you look
at what is happening in
Catalonia or Scotland or
Flanders then some of the ones
we are living with are far from
being based upon fact.
But if borders are arbitrary
they are also definite, because
wherever they are we have to
deal with them. Because the
process that determines who is
allowed to move where and why is
exercised with extreme
prejudice. America’s 1882
Chinese exclusion act, the White
Australia policy, a series of
measures lasting 70 years, or
Britain’s 1962 Commonwealth
Immigrants Act are the most
crude filters. But while the
othering changes with time –
recently in the western world
the shift from race to religion
as grounds for suspicion over a
generation has been
breath-taking – the fact of it
remains the same: ‘some people
won’t be welcome’. Not because
of what they have done, but
because of who they are, even as
the groups of people in question
may change.
A Home Office report in 2007
about who gets stopped for extra
questioning when coming into
Britain and revealed that
non-white South Africans are ten
times more likely to be pulled
aside and non-white Canadians
nine times more likely than
their white countrymen.
Moreover, even though the mean
income of a black Canadian is
almost double that of a white
South African, a black Canadian
is still four times more likely
to be stopped. To anyone who
seeks some other explanation, I
point you to the faces of those
who have been caught in the
Windrush scandal and ask you: is
that a coincidence? This is not
a glitch in the system, this is
the system.
This has been relatively
recently compounded by a further
contradiction that even as
borders have become tougher for
people, they have all but been
lifted for capital. Money can
travel the globe, virtually
without restriction in search of
regulations that are weaker and
labour that is cheaper. And when
it does, it often displaces
people, sucking investment and
resources from one place at the
flick of a switch, shutting down
factories and shifting them to
the other side of the globe, or
introducing automation that
makes some professions obsolete.
But nobody asks a machine or
money when it’s crossing a
border whether it will put
someone out of work. Those who
find their lives turned upside
down by the free movement of
capital are often prevented from
moving country and looking for
work. People should at least
have the same rights as
machines.
The rich can buy themselves
citizenship in around 20
countries, cash down. Meanwhile,
desperate people are turned away
at borders all the time. It is a
fact rarely stated, but
generally acknowledged and
accepted, that the global poor
should not be allowed to travel.
Indeed, one of the more
intriguing aspects of hearing
the new home secretary Sajid
Javid’s life story, held up as
an uplifting example, is the
detail that his father came to
the country with just £1 in his
pocket in 1961. That means that
were his own father were to
arrive in the country now, Javid
would not let him in.
And he is okay with that. It
is absolutely right, he said
three years ago, that today we
should have an immigration
policy based more on skills.
That excludes most of the world,
and so the border stands as an
ultimate point of confrontation
in the broader dystopia we have
made possible. I think that poor
people should be able to travel.
Not least because if they
couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here.
Obvious
retorts
It would be useful to deal
pre-emptively with some of the
more obvious retorts regarding
open borders. The first relates
to security. If we open the
borders we will compromise our
security, goes the claim. Well,
the overwhelming majority of
people who have committed
terrorist attacks here were
either born here or are here
legally. That shouldn’t surprise
us. So long as Britain has had
colonial or imperial interests
elsewhere, it has had a
terrorist problem. We have been
growing our own terrorists for
years.
For the better part of a
century, we mostly were engaging
with Ireland. The security that
came after that conflict emerged
not as a result of tighter
borders or more stringent
policy, but from a political
settlement. Similarly, the
source of our terror problem is
not the result of stringent or
lax borders, but a thoroughly
misguided foreign policy in
which we either commit acts of
state terror ourselves, as in
Iraq, or profit from the
weaponising of others to do it,
as in Yemen.
Nation states are a
relatively recent concept;
migration is as old as humanity.
Borders seek to regulate and
restrict that basic human custom
for the distinct purpose of
excluding some and privileging
others
It would also help if we
addressed the problem with the
issue of refugees. First of all,
we don’t take anything like our
fair share of refugees even
compared with other European
countries, let alone the rest of
the world. But it is
particularly galling because a
significant number of refugees
are fleeing wars that we have
created and states that we have
failed, regimes we have
subsidised and regions we have
disabled. If we don’t want
people to come here, then maybe
we could start by not going
there and messing it up.
Similarly with our trade
policies, which punish poorer
countries by preventing them
from developing as we did with
nationalised industries
protected by subsidies and
thereby confine them to the
volatile markets of raw
materials and the whims of
multinationals.
These are often countries
that Britain and other western
nations actively and
intentionally underdeveloped
during colonialism. There we
have a historical
responsibility. Much of the
migration in the world at
present, it should be pointed
out, is not voluntary but
forced, by extreme poverty,
natural disasters and wars. It
would be a better world if
people only moved if they wanted
to and if they did not have to
move to eat. Environmental
policies, particularly on
climate change, arms controls
and responsible foreign and
trade policies, would assist in
allowing many people to stay
where they would rather be – at
home.
Put another way, those who
insist that we cannot afford to
take in the world’s misery
should make more of a concerted
effort to ensure that we are not
helping to create the world’s
misery.
A tougher
call
That brings us on to the
welfare state, the health
service and so on, which is a
tougher call. How do we sustain,
with national taxes, these
things that we value if they are
then free to the world?
Clearly, if we didn’t
contribute so much to global
poverty this would be less of an
issue. And we shouldn’t forget
the huge health inequalities
within nations. A black man in
Washington DC has a lower life
expectancy than a man on the
Gaza strip.
What’s more, just because you
have no national borders doesn’t
mean that there can’t be
national rights and obligations.
The pragmatist in me says we
have free movement in the
European Union but I’m still not
eligible for an Italian pension.
So ring-fencing a system whereby
those who contribute can benefit
should not be beyond our ken
The idealist in me, though,
asks the question: do you want
to live in a world where
healthcare is determined by an
accident of birth? And if your
answer is yes, is that because
the accident occurred in your
favour?
The thing that all these
objections have in common, and I
know that there are more, is
fear. Fear of others, that
others might take what is ours,
might pollute what we share.
That fear is a potent force. It
can drive people into the arms
of fascists, racists, bigots and
bullies.
We have seen recently where
that fear gets us. What happened
with the Windrush generation was
not a mistake – it was the whole
point of the ‘hostile
environment’ policy. People are
treated as illegal unless they
can prove otherwise.
Not content with a physical
border on the water’s edge and
at the airport frontier, it
revealed that we now have
borders that are invisible and
omnipresent, dividing
communities and generations at
whim and will. The border now
represents not a physical space
but a political one that can be
reproduced without warning in
places of learning and healing.
At any moment almost anyone –
your boss, doctor, child’s
headteacher, or landlord – can
become a border guard. Indeed,
they may be legally obliged to
do so, and on the basis of their
judgement you may be denied
livelihood, family, home and
health. Is that the world we
want?
Wake-up call
The great thing about
dreaming is that you always have
something to wake up to. I don’t
want to wake up to this any
more.
Nation states are a
relatively recent concept;
migration is as old as humanity.
Borders seek to regulate and
restrict that basic human custom
for the distinct purpose of
excluding some and privileging
others. They discriminate
between all people with the
express intent of then being
able to discriminate against
some people. They do not simply
set boundaries for countries,
they are metaphors for how we
might imagine other human
beings.
Immigrants are not the
problem, borders are. We don’t
know what the future holds, but
if we don’t fight for it, it
won’t exist. Activism is the
key. Bad things happen when good
people stay at home.
This is an edited extract
from a public lecture by Gary
Younge at SOAS on 3 May 2018.