Joy Martins

If there is anything that the Covid-19 pandemic has taught us, it is that inequality pervades in almost every aspect of modern humanity. The pandemic has highlighted the deep inequalities that structure the world, and exemplified how access to healthcare, shelter, safe movement, education, and much more depends on factors such as race, gender, nationality, geographical location, economic class, and religion.

From our access to vaccines and the luxury of working from home, to our ability to move across borders, and assert the financial security we have rights to during precarious times - our degree of protection against the Covid-19 virus and its inevitable socio-economic outcomes has been dictated by our position within the structures that keep the poor poor, and make the rich richer.

It was commonly heard at the start of the pandemic that the virus doesn’t discriminate. We heard hopeful whispers that this pandemic would act as the ultimate equaliser that would finally force the world to pause and recalibrate the way we treat our natural resources and indigenous populations. It was hoped that it would finally make us question the capitalist system that places profit over everything else.

But it did not.

Instead, the years encompassed by Covid-19 have acted as a magnifying glass - showing us the deep inequalities that have always been here, remain unsolved, and worse still, further propagated.

In its cruel irony, history is repeating itself: many European countries are currently suspending their pandemic restrictions and are adapting their economies to a new emerging crisis - that of the millions of Ukrainian refugees fleeing armed Russian attacks that began at the end of February 2022. Once again, the magnifying glass is hovering over us, this time exposing inequality in the form of the deeply racist structures of white supremacy that govern migration policies in Western Europe.

A group of young men gathered at the protest

The dedicated government responses to the Ukrainian refugee crisis in Europe exemplify how biased criteria is used to grant access to safety, and to solve socio-economic issues - usually along ethnic lines. The biased criteria by which European governments find ways to shake solutions out of its economic and social infrastructures show how solidarity is assigned selectively, and in willful ignorance of the plights of those deemed distant; culturally, religiously, or racially.

War has a way of recalibrating things. At a personal level, war makes one re-evaluate one’s priorities and appreciate what they have - peace, stability, protection. At a political level, it makes state’s risk-assess and mobilise - militarily, diplomatically, mediatically. The intensity, then, of the collective recalibration that occurs when a highly mediatised war breaks out is shaped by our level collective interest in its protagonists.

The visual framing of the war in Ukraine by European governments has been underlined with urgency, and a heightened focus on its exiled, presented as unfortunate victims of terror - which they of course are. But why has this victim-focused approach not been adopted when describing the wars elsewhere? The images of the ruins of Ukrainian cities are undoubtedly horrifying - the sudden outbreak of war and the drastic life changes that come with it would induce anxiety and fear in anyone. But, this is not the first time we’ve had victims of war and destruction at our doorstep.

Performance artists playing music at the protest

The admittance of refugees has been a shatteringly divisive topic since the start of the European ‘migration crisis’, to the point that we see right-wing governments more represented in European governments year after year. The media discourse that dubs Ukranians as civilised, or as more deserving of sympathy due to the color of their blonde hair and blue eyes, is at the root of the troubling double standard that is now acted out.

Refugees from elsewhere are still being doubted, prodded, and held in reception centers for years on end; refugees from elsewhere are deported or detained, and subjected to the collective hesitancy of the growing anti-migration sentiments that envelop their host communities.

Within the microcosm of Ukrainian refugees themselves, we see the same trends of biased treatment repeated - previous asylum seekers who obtained international protection in Ukraine, who are now fleeing war yet again, find themselves watching from the sidelines as their Ukrainian national peers speed through the procedure to resettle abroad while they wait in line.

There is no doubt, then, that the way in which European governments treat global exiles depends on their ‘cultural proximity’. The white supremacy and racism that perpetuate the unfair treatment of refugees is bound to evoke resentment and deep frustration.

As someone who works for a living with refugees and undocumented migrants, mostly from Eritrea, Ethiopia, Sudan, Morocco, Algeria, Afghanistan, Palestine, and Iraq, the discourse of upset confusion around the disparity in experiences was prevalent from day one. Forgotten, while still living through the hells of both ‘here’ and ‘there’, how are they meant to feel? Do we expect their sympathy? Do we expect them to swallow the sharp edges of injustice? Do we expect them to stay silent?

The photos that accompany this article were taken at a mass protest held in Brussels in March 2022. The protest was held in opposition to the disparity with which the government treats migrants. Belgium’s record regarding migrant rights has been further stained in the past year, notably due to the multiple deaths of migrant men while in police custody, the governments failure to legalise the hundreds of undocumented hunger strikers demanding legal recognition, and the hundreds of asylum seekers who were forced to camp outside due to an overwhelmed reception system. Although upsetting, Belgium is certainly not the only European country to face criticism for its treatment of refugees.

Currently in Europe, Iraqi asylum seekers can be forced to wait up to 4 years for a response to their international protection applications. In comparison, a Ukrainian refugee is exempt from the administrative difficulties that come with seeking international protection.

Syrian families are left to drown in deep cold seas, while the Ukrainian flags of solidarity fly high in every city. Undocumented migrant workers from Morocco are left struggling to survive in the economies they have worked to built, while Ukranian refugees are receiving residence permits overnight.

Young Eritrean men are dying on the tracks of the trains that Ukranians are taking to reach safety, free of charge. Afghan minors are beaten by border police, while Ukrainian children are being enrolled into schools in efforts to not disturb their developmental curb.

A young man holding a sign protesting against racist refugee policies

This is not to say that Ukranians fleeing warfare should not receive access to education, shelter, free travel, or any other freedoms that a European citizen would receive, not at all - but the response to this crisis only highlights the unequal treatment of refugees in Europe.

The way this crisis has been handled should be the standard for everyone. Our solidarity with refugees should not depend on our culture, ethnicity, or geographical proximity (and it certainly should not depend on the colour of our eyes, or the types of cars we drive, but somehow this point needs to be clarified too) - it should be the status quo.

If there can ever be a silver lining in a global tragedy, it is what we learn from it. What we are witnessing now will act as proof; proof of what can be done, and proof of what should be done.

In the future, when we find ourselves reading about men, women and children fleeing from their homes, near or far, we will be able to hold our governments accountable so that they will respond with the same urgency as they are now. We will also hold our neighbors accountable when they propagate harmful categorisation by showing selective solidarity, when we should be witnessing mass mobilisation for every human tragedy.

March Against Racism