Why CALAIS isn’t sexy for activists.

Like many others, I’m involved with No Borders work in Calais, where we work in solidarity with migrants who, after months, sometimes even years of travelling, find themselves trapped at this border. They are unwelcome in the town, yet have no-where else to go. They are continually harassed, arrested, sometimes deported, always treated with contempt.
The number of activists present in Calais fluctuates a lot. Sometimes there may be 30/50 activists on site, much of the time there are 4 or 5, occasionally only 1 or 2. It’s understandable; people have lives back home, work, relationships, commitments. But I’ve been thinking about why Calais is different from other long-term activist ‘issues’. It can’t just be because it’s ‘abroad’. Why do people go to Rossport, for example, staying months, coming back again and again? Why do people drop out of Calais solidarity work?
It may be argued that migrant solidarity is a contentious issue and of course it is among the general public, but there are now lots of No Borders groups in the UK, all doing great work in defending the rights of asylum-seekers, challenging racist stop & search procedures, supporting people in detention, fighting the imprisonment of children and families, etc So the issue does seem to be generating widespread interest and activism. So what’s happening in Calais that is failing to attract and retain people on the ground? Why isn’t Calais activism sexy?
My suggestions are these:
Firstly there’s the level of repression. It is daily. This is mainly directed at migrants or ‘sans papiers’ as I prefer to call them (just means ‘undocumented’). It’s extremely depressing to see people being chased, pinned to the ground, humiliated, carted off in vans. These are people you very quickly make links and friendships with, which makes their distress all the harder to witness. The successful de-arrests are rare, though our actions often buy enough time for sans papiers to escape. There is also state repression of activists, with sometimes violent arrest, pepper-spray, long stays in cells. That isn’t daily but does happen occasionally. But I know there is also plenty of police brutality going on in County Mayo and it doesn’t seem to put people off from coming back!
Then there’s the unchanging aspect of the situation in Calais. Well, it has changed in terms of police behaviour. When I first went there in 2009, the police were out of control. Migrants regularly got beaten up, suffered broken bones, had their few possessions stolen, had their bedding pissed on (yes, by police), their clothes covered in oil, their tents slashed with knives, cooking pots crushed etc etc. Thanks, I believe, to a No Borders/Calais Migrant Solidarity presence, continually filming, keeping account, gathering witness statements and making documentaries, that has changed for the better. What doesn’t change is that new ‘sans papiers’ arrive on the scene to face the same border controls and state repression so activists don’t really see an improvement in the situation and that’s something we find hard to sustain, mentally.
Finally, (and I think this is the most important reason why Calais isn’t attracting activists), it doesn’t have local support. I immediately want to mention exceptions, a very small number of hard-working Calaisians who bravely face the disapproval of their fellow townspeople. There’s also the kindness of a couple of bakers and a grocer without whom we wouldn’t have coped over winter. Our dear and much-missed comrade, Marie-Noelle (Zetkin) Guess, lived with this contempt for her years of solidarity with sans papier people, her photos and films exposed police brutality and she was harassed and regularly arrested as a result. Many of the No Borders activists in Calais, have come from other European countries rather than France. We find it difficult to rent office space, to encourage local involvement. Sometimes there is tolerance, but galvanising that into practical support is very difficult. The charity groups involved in doling out food to migrants don’t like us as we refuse to treat sans papiers like children. Listening to the results of the first round of French elections, I’m unsurprised to hear that Marine Le Pen, leader of the National Front is in third place, that 1 in 5 voted for a racist agenda. That’s the situation in which Calais activists are working. There have been racist attacks that hospitalised migrants and an activist. There have been two unexplained deaths of sans papiers young men over the last year, including what the police immediately dismissed as a suicide but which none of us believe to be the case.
The point I’m making is that doing solidarity work in Calais isn’t sexy. It lacks the local support that would be uplifting and encouraging. It lacks the step-by-step successes that other campaigns see, the wins that make you want to come back for more, whatever the hardships. It lacks core warmth that some protest sites have that makes you feel like a family. Sans papiers people move on, activists come and go, there’s a feeling of flux and change in an unchanging situation, if that makes any sense! Yet, in a way, it’s the hardest, yet most rewarding kind of activism I’ve ever been involved in. I know I’m unwelcome in the town, except by the people I’ve come to support. I know the activists I’m working with will probably go home during my stay and others will replace them, who I will barely get to know before I leave in my turn. I know the sans papiers I get to know will either succeed in their journey plans and then face the whole trauma of seeking asylum in the UK or wherever they’re headed, or will languish on the streets of Calais for months or even years while they claim asylum in France, or will be deported. There are no assurances of success or happiness. Yet to be a part of an individual’s journey is an incredible privilege. To be confided in, for someone to share their story with you is humbling. To be able to give practical solidarity that makes a difference to that person’s life is rewarding. That might be teaching English that means they can get a train or bus ticket in the UK or French, so that they’ll be sold a baguette rather than be chased out of the shop. It might be sharing food, finding blankets and tents for people, building small stoves to keep warm. It might be walking alongside someone in the street so they don’t get picked up in a police swoop. It might be translating information on claiming asylum. It might be filming whenever there’s a police raid on squats so there’s always a witness to police behaviour. It might be staying overnight out in camps and squats to warn of raids to allow people to escape in time. All this stuff tells the sans papiers that people do care, that we believe the repressive border controls are wrong, that we are willing to keep coming back to show solidarity and that the hostile majority doesn’t represent me. It’s not head-line grabbing stuff, most of it is very hard work, the rewards are small and often personal and there’s no cred to be had. It’s not sexy. But if you’re an activist who doesn’t care about that, it may turn out to be the most meaningful activism you’ve ever been involved with.


 http://calaismigrantsolidarity.wordpress.com/