International Security: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short Introductions) (14 page)

However, while such labels have their uses it is important to understand that they are not neutral but are acts of political will and imposition. For example, the distinction between a ‘legal’ and ‘illegal’ economic migrant is usually related to the types of worker a particular state is seeking at the time. Like many industrialized countries, for example, the UK’s immigration policy is currently targeted at attracting highly skilled migrants to its shores. Economic migrants arriving from beyond the EU need to meet a stringent set of criteria in regard to skills, education, and income to qualify and be granted legal status. Those falling short are either refused entry or exist as illegal immigrants lacking political and economic rights and often operating as part of a broader shadow economy. This situation, however, is in marked contrast to the 1950s and 1960s when the UK trawled the former colonies primarily looking to attract manual labour.

The process of categorization, therefore, is one ultimately undertaken by the receiving state. For example, while migrants moving because of poverty and unemployment are often categorized as ‘voluntary economic migrants’, from the perspective of those seeking to escape dire circumstances the voluntary nature, as opposed to forced imperative, of their decision might be less clear. The same point can be made in respect of migrants fleeing war or political persecution. Under the 1948 UN
Declaration of Human Rights and the 1951 Refugee Convention people not only have the right to seek asylum from persecution, but states are obliged to provide protection to anyone seeking it. However, it is up to the state in question to determine whether they think claims for asylum are legitimate or not. If such claims are deemed ‘bogus’ the migrant faces the prospect of deportation back to their country of origin. The implications of this, and the politics underlying such actions, should not be underplayed since a failed claim to asylum does not mean a person is not in real threat of harm. For example, feminists argue that asylum rules are often inherently discriminating against women, as in many countries gender specific threats (such as of genital mutilation) are not recognized as forms of persecution. Under President George Bush, for instance, asylum protections granted to women facing physical or sexual abuse as a result of the culturally inscribed practices of the society in which they live, and which had been previously granted under President Bill Clinton, were revoked. These were restored in 2009 by the Obama administration. Similarly, while during the Cold War the USA was willing to grant asylum to political dissidents fleeing communist regimes, with such dissidents welcomed as a further indictment of the Soviet system, migrants seeking asylum on such grounds today are much less likely to be successful.

The actual security implications of migration, however, are mixed and are often politically polarizing, while how the issue is viewed depends both on context and where we place the focus of security concern. For example, migration is often viewed as beneficial and even as a potential solution to various security problems. For individuals the security benefits lie in escaping political persecution, war, or famine, or in improving one’s economic position. States of origin, though, may also see benefits in sending their sons and daughters abroad. The Mexican government, for example, has been generally encouraging of mass migration to
the USA, whether legal or illegal. On the one hand, migration has been seen as a safety valve, easing the country’s internal economic pressures by keeping unemployment down and reducing the welfare burden. On the other hand, emigrants contribute to the national wealth by sending monetary remittances back to their families. Indeed, according to the World Bank’s
Migration and Remittances Factbook 2011
, officially recorded global remittances totalled $440 billion in 2010, with Mexico receiving $22.6 billion. The importance of such remittances is illustrated by Tajikistan, whose received remittances in 2009 amounted to 35.1 per cent of its total GDP. On a darker note, however, states of origin may also see emigration as a way to rid the country of population groups deemed undesirable. Thus, in the run-up to their membership of the EU in 2004 various Eastern European officials suggested that, as a result of the EU’s emphasis on free movement, membership presented the opportunity of reducing the size of their Roma minorities.

Finally, states of destination are also often encouraging of immigration, in particular as a solution to problems of economic stagnation through attracting skilled workers and entrepreneurs. Indeed, attracting such workers is increasingly viewed as central to maintaining global international competitiveness. However, skilled migrants may also be wanted to fill shortages in key sectors. In the UK, for instance, the National Health Service is heavily dependent on the recruitment of foreign doctors and nurses. Similarly, employers are also often encouraging of higher levels of migration, in part because it increases competition for jobs, which in turn tends to keep salary costs down. And not least, within the industrialized world immigration is also seen as one way of tackling the issue of ageing populations and the problem of how to pay for associated increasing pension and welfare costs.

Alongside these positives, however, migration can also pose a number of security dilemmas. As already noted in respect of the 9/11 bombers, in some cases migrants may constitute a direct
threat to the receiving state. In respect of asylum seekers and refugees, however, the issues raised are likely to be of a more political nature. First, granting asylum has the potential to damage relations with the state of origin as a consequence of the implicit criticism of that state’s practices entailed in the decision. The souring of UK–Ecuador relations following Ecuador’s granting of asylum to Julian Assange, the founder of Wikileaks, in 2012 is one example. Second, though, migrant communities, and in particular asylum seekers and refugees who have fled political persecution, may also be hostile to ruling regimes in their home state and seek to mobilize against it. For example, the mobilization of the Sikh population in the UK in the 1980s–1990s in support of an independent Sikh homeland in the Punjab soured UK–India relations for a time. Likewise, the presence of an estimated 4–5 million Palestinian refugees in Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan, many descendants of an original 700,000 who were forced out of their homes in present day Israel during the 1948 Arab–Israeli conflict, has not only been an enduring thorn in their relations with Israel, but at times has also been destabilizing domestically. Finally, it is also worth noting the influence which Iraqi exiles are believed to have had on US policy towards Iraq in the run-up and immediate aftermath of the 2003 Iraq War, not least through their provision of false intelligence and information.

Economically migration can raise a different set of security challenges. For example, while receiving states may see immigration as an opportunity to solve problems of skills shortages, for states of origin, particularly in the developing world, the result can be the loss of much needed expertise and talent. Notably, the World Bank lists ten countries which in 2000 lost over 70 per cent of their tertiary educated population to emigration, with Guyana topping the list with a staggering 89 per cent. This can have very particular effects. For example, while the UK relies heavily on importing doctors and nurses, many trained in the developing world, those countries in turn necessarily lose this expertise—often despite having paid the costs of training. The attrition rate for physicians
trained in South Africa is estimated at around 30 per cent. Such figures raise obvious questions as to the seriousness with which developed world governments take their commitments, expressed through the Millennium Development Goals, to eradicate global poverty and improve global health. Finally, claims about the economic benefits to host societies of high levels of immigration are also often criticized. While a larger, cheaper, and more competitive workforce might suit business it is less clear that this is also in the best interests of workers. Setting aside populist rhetoric of ‘foreigners stealing our jobs’, the argument is that high levels of immigration can undermine the ability of workers’ unions to press for better pay and conditions.

Most contentious in debates about migration, however, is the extent to which large influxes of people can raise difficult questions about the integration of new arrivals into the broader society. Negative reaction towards immigrants is common across societies and is often expressed through connecting immigrants with crime, the spread of infectious diseases, and, especially since 9/11, with terrorism. In Europe high levels of immigration have even been depicted as a threat to the welfare state. Aside from contestable concerns that foreigners are a drain on the public purse, a key argument is that to function effectively the welfare state requires that people in society feel a strong sense of solidarity and empathy with each other. It is argued that such characteristics are more likely in relatively homogeneous societies with a shared history, common values, and cultural tradition. In contrast, diversification is likely to erode the collective sense of solidarity and empathy, with citizens becoming more selfish and less willing to contribute to extensive social welfare provision.

In reality the evidence for such claims is mixed. Underlying them, however, are often deeper fears that immigration poses a threat to established understandings of national identity. In America,
for example, such fears were provocatively articulated by the political scientist Samuel Huntington, best known for his argument about the ‘clash of civilizations’. In his 2004 book
Who Are We?
, Huntington argued that high levels of Hispanic immigration were fundamentally threatening America’s heritage as an Anglo-Protestant nation. In short, he warned that unless something is done quickly the America of the Founding Fathers will cease to exist. In Europe similar fears have become manifest in the widespread rise of right wing populist parties, prone to inflammatory and often openly racist rhetoric, and often running on a ticket to cut immigration and emphasize core national values. Whatever one’s specific view on such developments large inflows of immigrants can certainly end up challenging established understandings of national identity and may result in a variety of responses.

Throughout the 1990s the response of many Western societies was to embrace the cultural differences brought by immigrants and to renegotiate national identity along multicultural lines. Indeed, the ability to embrace cultural difference became, for some, the central mark of a truly liberal society. The alternative argument, which has gained more prominence since 9/11 and the identification of various ‘home grown’ terrorists in Europe and America, is that multiculturalism has actually resulted in fractured societies, with different immigrant communities existing in enclaves and often rarely interacting with mainstream society. In the opinion of British Prime Minister David Cameron, for example, far from cementing liberal values the experiment with multiculturalism has undermined them. Thus, he complains that in the name of multiculturalism ‘We’ve even tolerated these segregated communities behaving in ways that run completely counter to our values’. This is important, he argues, because such segregated communities in turn lack a sense of connection or loyalty to the broader society, with this providing fertile ground for the radicalization of immigrant communities. The solution, from this perspective, is a more ‘muscular liberalism’ confident in
taking a stand on what constitutes the nation’s core values, and which expects immigrants to actively assimilate into the mainstream national culture.

Of course, the notion of core national values that underpins many arguments along these lines, and what assimilation might mean in practice, belies a tendency towards essentialist thinking about identity—i.e. that it is possible to articulate clearly and unproblematically what comprises national identity, and what does not. Throughout many Western countries this has resulted in ongoing debates about the compatibility of Islamic values with Western values. The perceived threat of Islam to Western identity, for example, has been clearly evident in debates in many Western societies about the wearing of headscarves and in the introduction of immigration restrictions clearly targeted at Muslims in many states. It has also been evident in (unsuccessful) attempts by the Vatican and the German Christian Democratic Party to get a reference to Europe’s Christian heritage included in the EU’s constitution, efforts in part driven by a desire to derail the perceived ‘Islamic threat’ represented by Turkey’s ongoing goal of EU membership. Such anti-Muslim sentiment can obviously leave Europe’s 39 million Muslims feeling uncomfortable. Despite being citizens the rhetoric around Islam in many Western societies implicitly puts their loyalty and belongingness in question and can be a significant cause of personal insecurity.

The central response to perceived problems of migration has been the enhancement of established forms of border control, such as through the introduction of more stringent passport checks and visa regimes intended to discriminate more effectively between desired and undesired migrants. This has included the development of new border technologies, such as iris scanning equipment, and information gathering processes designed to pre-emptively assess the desirability of particular migrants before
they even undertake the journey in question. Not least, it has also resulted in the construction of holding centres within which to house refugees and asylum seekers while their applications are processed. Such facilities are often little different from prisons and are frequently condemned by human rights groups for their conditions and the implicit criminalization of the people kept locked up inside. Indeed, in some cases such detention camps are being established outside the state in question. For example, in 2012 the Australian government announced its intention to resume its practice of deporting migrants seeking refugee status to detention centres in Nauru. The aim of such policies is to prevent undesired migrants reaching one’s shores, although offshore detention centres are not the only mechanism for doing this. Other approaches include providing aid to states of origin to discourage people from migrating in the first place, or to third party states to encourage them to take the migrants instead. More draconian is to threaten punitive action against states if they fail to control emigration from their territories, as India has done previously by threatening Burma with economic sanctions.