Suchergebnisse

The package to show Europe is in control of irregular arrivals is a triumph of performance over policy.

Most studies on illegal migration focus on particular national or local settings and most theoretical approaches are built upon research done in America and Western Europe. In consequence, there is little understanding about the legal construction of the 'illegal' and the meanings of migrants' illegality in different political contexts. Given these major shortcomings, this article compares the cases of Malaysia and Spain. By comparing how we can explain illegal immigration and what it means to be illegal in each country, the final aim of this article is to place the term 'illegal' back into its context, that is, to understand the 'illegal' not as an essentialised, generic and singular object but rather as a legal and political product of particular historical and national contexts.

El centro para solicitantes de asilo que el gobierno italiano ha abierto recientemente en Albania es económicamente costoso, legalmente controvertido, poco eficiente y de resultados inciertos. Aun así, no sólo la primera ministra Giorgia Meloni pretende sacarlo adelante, sino que la mayoría de estados miembros de la Unión Europea lo miran con atención a la espera de que pueda ser un modelo a seguir. ¿Por qué tanto interés si parece una propuesta abocada al fracaso?*Este artículo se publicó previamente en el diario ARA.Primero fue el Reino Unido del exprimer ministro Sunak con su centro para solicitantes de asilo en Ruanda. Después la Italia de Giorgia Meloni con un centro en Albania. También se han sumado diecisiete estados europeos, pidiendo soluciones «innovadoras» y «cambios de paradigma» en la política migratoria y de asilo. Hace pocos días, lo hacía también la presidenta de la Comisión Europea, Ursula von der Leyen, proponiendo la creación de «dispositivos de retorno» fuera de la Unión Europea. ¿Por qué tanto apoyo a unos centros que están condenados al fracaso?El primer despropósito está en el coste. Según el diario italiano La Repubblica, el centro de Albania cuesta 297 euros al día por cada solicitante de asilo, es decir, casi 10 veces más que si la recepción se hiciera en Italia (que costaría 35 euros). Se calcula una inversión de 800 millones en los próximos cinco años. Las cifras también eran astronómicas en el caso del centro británico en Ruanda: además de los 370 millones de libras para su construcción, el coste ascendía a 20.000 libras por persona deportada. En conjunto, la BBC calculaba que la deportación aumentaría el coste total en 63.000 libras por persona.El segundo impedimento es legal. El pasado viernes un tribunal de Roma ordenó el retorno inmediato de doce personas detenidas en el centro de Albania por ser originarias de países (Egipto y Bangladesh) que, según el Tribunal de Justicia de la UE, no son seguros. En la práctica, esto quiere decir que no se les pueden aplicar los protocolos rápidos de asilo y expulsión que Italia pretende desplegar en Albania. La justicia británica también paralizó la entrada en vigor del centro en Ruanda. En noviembre de 2023, el Tribunal Supremo del Reino Unido dictaminaba por unanimidad que el plan era ilegal porque los «refugiados genuinos» corrían el peligro de ser devueltos a sus países de origen.El tercer problema es de eficiencia. Si bien estos centros se presentan como un medio para reducir la inmigración irregular, los números no pueden ser más anecdóticos. Este primer intento de Meloni lo ilustra. De un grupo inicial de 85 personas, sólo dieciséis pudieron ser deportadas a Albania. Según el acuerdo entre Italia y Albania, los procedimientos acelerados en frontera solo pueden aplicarse a hombres solos no vulnerables procedentes de países seguros. Sin embargo, la mayoría de los que se dirigen a Italia son menores, mujeres, familias o vulnerables. Mientras se desplegaba todo este gran dispositivo sólo para dieciséis personas (que acabaron siendo doce, porque al final dos resultaron ser menores y dos vulnerables), más de mil personas desembarcaban en la isla de Lampedusa. Los números hablan por sí solos.La cuarta limitación es de resultados finales. Una vez en Albania y resueltas sus solicitudes de asilo, ¿qué pasaría con todos aquellos que finalmente no son reconocidos como refugiados? La propuesta no prevé nada más que su deportación, que es responsabilidad de las autoridades italianas. Pero sabemos que en la Unión Europea la mayoría de los que reciben una orden de expulsión (70-80%) no son finalmente deportados. La explicación recae sobre todo en las reticencias de los países de origen y tránsito. Recordemos –la UE lo olvida a menudo– que el retorno no es posible sin la aceptación expresa caso por caso de los gobiernos de estos países. Y normalmente no acostumbran a hacerlo, ya que el coste político no es menor.Volviendo a la pregunta inicial, si lo que se propone es caro, ilegal, ineficiente y susceptible de acabar en la nada, ¿por qué estos centros parecen estar convirtiéndose en el nuevo leitmotiv de las políticas migratorias europeas? La respuesta es que sus objetivos son diferentes a los expresados en público. De cara a los países de origen, estas políticas pretenden desincentivar nuevas salidas. La lógica es la siguiente: si saben que no serán bienvenidos, que serán deportados y finalmente devueltos, ¿qué incentivos habría para intentar llegar a Europa? Más allá de si este argumento funciona en contextos en los que la emigración es la única alternativa, este tipo de políticas llevan a una competencia entre países vecinos para tener las políticas más duras y, así, dejar de estar entre los destinos preferentes. Es un elemento más de discordia en una Unión Europea que o tiene unas políticas migratorias comunes o no será.De puertas adentro, esta política pretende poner en cuestión el actual marco legal. La discusión ya no es entre la extrema derecha y el resto de las fuerzas políticas. La diferencia entre unos partidos y otros, en materia de inmigración, es cada vez más insignificante. La gran disputa ahora es entre política y estado de derecho. Y la pregunta es inevitable: ¿será el estado de derecho lo suficientemente fuerte para parar los despropósitos de la política? ¿O es que de lo que se trata es de poner contra las cuerdas el estado de derecho, buscando las grietas, desprestigiando a los tribunales de justicia y apelando a cambios legislativos, que les afectarán a ellos primero, pero que, finalmente, nos acabarán afectando a todos nosotros?Palabras clave: migraciones, asilo, Italia, UE, Meloni, Albania, Ruanda, Reino Unido, deportación, retorno, estado de derecho, refugiadosTodas las publicaciones expresan las opiniones de sus autores/as y no reflejan necesariamente los puntos de vista de CIDOB como institución.Imagen: © European Union, 2023

A finals de juliol, l'assassinat de tres nenes a mans d'un jove britànic de pares ruandesos va desencadenar manifestacions violentes i atacs directes contra persones migrades i racialitzades en diferents ciutats del Regne Unit. És la tercera vegada en els últims onze anys que un acte violent perpetuat per un individu acaba en un intent de pogrom. Mentre la major part de les anàlisis posen l'èmfasi en la responsabilitat de les xarxes socials, les causes de fons tenen a veure amb la definició de la nació, el context socioeconòmic i la normalització dels discursos anti-immigració.*Una versió més reduïda d'aquest article es va publicar prèviament al diari ARA.Aquest estiu ens ha portat imatges d'autèntics pogroms contra immigrants, refugiats, membres de la comunitat musulmana i persones racialitzades a moltes ciutats del Regne Unit. L'assassinat de tres nenes a una escola de dansa a la petita ciutat costanera de Southport va desencadenar una sèrie d'atacs violents contra persones i col·lectius que no tenien res a veure amb els fets. Durant deu dies, grups d'encaputxats van atacar persones racialitzades i van incendiar mesquites, negocis, un centre d'acollida de refugiats i una biblioteca.Ningú dubte que les xarxes socials hi van tenir un paper fonamental. Tot i que l'atacant va ser un jove britànic fill de pares ruandesos, aviat van circular rumors afirmant que es tractava d'un musulmà, sol·licitant d'asil o immigrant indocumentat. Activistes d'extrema dreta com Tommy Robinson (amb més de 800.000 seguidors a X) van apel·lar a la mobilització, apuntant com a culpables als "invasors que massacren les nostres filles" o a l'Islam definit com "un problema de salut mental". Però l'explicació dels pogroms d'aquest estiu necessita anar més enllà de la desinformació. Els disturbis racials han sigut una constant en la història del Regne Unit i la pregunta realment rellevant és: per què certs missatges (que, efectivament, ara s'estenen més ràpidament que abans) són capaços de quallar de forma tan immediata i violenta?La primera causa té a veure amb la definició del Nosaltres. Com explica molt bé Achille Mbembe, l'esclavitud i l'imperi colonial van comportar la creació de dos ordres simbòlics: el de la comunitat dels pròxims, del "nosaltres", i el de la comunitat dels "altres", d'aquells deixats al marge, percebuts o com a pura "mercaderia" o com a pur "excedent". Aquesta divisió entre l'ordre humà i el subhumà, que va permetre justificar la barbàrie de l'esclavitud i l'extrema violència dels exèrcits colonials durant els processos d'independència, és segons Mbembe la base d'aquest nosaltres/altres que articula els discursos racistes actuals. No obstant això, en el cas del Regne Unit, l'Imperi colonial va significar, alhora, l'atorgament de la nacionalitat britànica a tots els súbdits de la Commonwealth i, per tant, una política de portes obertes per a més de 600 milions de persones procedents de les colònies. Era el preu a pagar per la il·lusió d'un imperi en el que "no es pon mai el sol". Aleshores, però, ningú va pensar que els que arribarien al Regne Unit serien altres més enllà dels descendents d'aquells que n'havien marxat. És important recordar que, al llarg de la història moderna i contemporània, el Regne Unit és un dels països del món que ha generat més emigració.El problema va sorgir quan en poc temps es va posar en evidència que aquells "altres", que es pensaven de facto confinats a les colònies, havien arribat al Regne Unit de forma significativa. A finals de la dècada del 1950, els disturbis racials a Nottingham i Notting Hill van donar el toc d'alarma. La resposta va ser immediata. Empès per la por a la "fúria" i les "males maneres" del poble britànic, el govern va decidir aturar radicalment l'arribada d'immigrants no-blancs procedents d'Àsia, Àfrica i el Carib. Des d'aleshores, el Regne Unit és un dels països amb una de les polítiques migratòries més restrictives del món. Aquest tancament dràstic de les fronteres es va justificar amb un doble argument. Per un costat, es va assumir que la immigració era un fenomen negatiu pel "poble" britànic que – tal com va declarar aleshores el polític conservador Enoch Power – "es trobava convertit en estranger en el seu propi país". Per l'altre costat, es va construir tota una narrativa, que dura fins avui, segons la qual l'harmonia social i la integració d'aquells que ja havien arribat depenia de que no n'entressin més. Dit d'una altra manera, hi ha un cert consens en què a menys immigració, més pau social i més integració. Tot això va anar acompanyat, això sí, d'unes polítiques d'anti discriminació que són incomparablement més valentes que les de la resta de països europeus.La segona causa darrera dels disturbis racials d'aquest estiu és de caire socioeconòmic. La deslocalització de la indústria a partir de la dècada del 1970, però sobretot les polítiques neoliberals del govern conservador de Margaret Thatcher van portar a un empobriment generalitzat de les classes treballadores i a l'abandonament per part de l'estat d'aquells que, en aquest context, van deixar de valdre's per si sols. Els últims deu anys de polítiques conservadores i l'efecte devastador del Brexit no han fet més que empitjorar-ho. Al mateix temps, encara que sembli contradictori, l'economia britànica ha passat a dependre més i més de l'arribada de treballadors estrangers. Primer van ser principalment ciutadans europeus. En aquest cas, el malestar va manifestar-se sobretot contra els treballadors polonesos, a qui se'ls acusava de robar la feina als britànics. No és d'estranyar, doncs, que la qüestió migratòria fos un element crucial en els debats entorn del Brexit. Amb la sortida de la Unió Europea, l'origen dels que arriben al Regne Unit ha canviat (ja no són majoritàriament europeus) però, des d'aleshores, el número no ha fet més que augmentar. Si abans de la pandèmia el saldo migratori anual era d'uns 330.000, en els últims anys ha superat els 750.000.Finalment, la responsabilitat dels disturbis recau també en el discurs polític dels governs conservadors dels últims anys i dels mitjans de comunicació afins. Qui no recorda l'eslògan "stop de boats" o la proposta de deportar sol·licitants d'asil a Ruanda? Però no han sigut només paraules, les polítiques també han accelerat la normalització d'aquests discursos. Els últims anys, per exemple, s'ha limitat l'accés als serveis socials i el dret de viure en família de molts residents estrangers, i els sol·licitants d'asil han vist com se'ls tancava en centres d'emergència, fins al punt d'arribar a la imatge grotesca de les semi-presons flotants del port de Portland. En aquest sentit, com deia Daniel Trilling, la "gasolina ideològica [dels disturbis] prové de fonts més respectables". No obstant, tots els representants polítics britànics – Nigel Farage inclòs – han condemnat els actes violents d'aquest estiu. Ningú vol violència al carrer o un escenari de guerra civil, tal com vaticinava Elon Musk. Alguns polítics ho han denunciat amb la boca petita. D'altres de forma més contundent però excusant o justificant els motius dels atacants. En tot cas, el que és evident és que qui juga amb foc es crema. És fàcil atribuir la culpa als agitadors d'extrema dreta o a l'efecte pervers dels algoritmes de les plataformes. Si bé és fonamental regular uns i altres, la solució final no pot passar sinó per abordar les causes de fons, revisant la definició de les identitats nacionals, abordant els malestars socials apropant-se als que se senten abandonats i, finalment, anant més enllà dels relats polaritzadors i les polítiques simbòliques, que cada vegada més caracteritzen els discursos sobre la immigració de totes les forces polítiques sense excepció.Paraules clau: Regne Unit, disturbis, immigració, racisme, desinformació, xarxes socials, SouthportTotes les publicacions expressen les opinions dels/de les seus/ves autors/es i no reflecteixen necessàriament els punts de vista del CIDOB o dels seus finançadors.

The asylum seekers processing centre that the Italian government has recently opened in Albania is economically costly, legally controversial, ineffective, and doubtful in terms of results. Nevertheless, not only does Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni intend to forge ahead with the project, but most EU member states are watching attentively in the hope that this might be a model to follow. Why is there so much interest in this strategy when it already seems doomed to failure?This article has been published in the daily ARA.First it was the United Kingdom of former Prime Minister Rishi Sunak with its asylum seekers detention centre in Rwanda. Next, Georgia Meloni's Italy established a similar centre in Albania. Seventeen European states have also entered the fray, calling for "innovative" solutions and a "paradigm shift" in migration and asylum policy. A few days ago, Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission, followed suit when she suggested that "return hubs" should be set up outside the European Union. Why is there so much support for centres that are doomed to failure?Cost is the first folly. According to the Italian newspaper La Repubblica, the hub in Albania costs 297 euros per day for each asylum seeker or, in other words, almost ten times more than if reception were done in Italy, where it would cost 35 euros. It is estimated that the Albanian centre will require an investment of 800 million euros over the next five years. The figures for the British centre in Rwanda were also astronomical: more than 370 million pounds to construct it, and 20,000 pounds for each person deported. All in all, the BBC calculated that deportation would increase the overall cost by 63,000 pounds per person.The second problem is the legal matter. A special immigration court in Rome recently ordered the immediate return to Italy of twelve people detained in the Albanian centre because they are from countries (Egypt and Bangladesh) which, according to the EU Court of Justice, are unsafe for returnees. In practice, this means that the fast-track asylum and deportation procedures that Italy intends to implement in Albania cannot be applied. In Great Britain, the Supreme Court also blocked deportation to the Rwanda centre. In November 2023, it unanimously ruled that the policy was unlawful because "genuine refugees" faced a real risk of ill-treatment if they were returned to their countries of origin.The third stumbling block is effectiveness. Although these centres are presented as a means of reducing irregular migration, the numbers could not be flimsier, as Meloni's first attempt shows. From an initial group of 85 people, only sixteen could be deported to Albania. According to the agreement between Italy and Albania, the speeded-up border procedures can only be applied to non-vulnerable single men coming from safe countries. However, most of the people trying to get to Italy are minors, women, families, or vulnerable individuals. While Meloni's grand scheme was being put into action for only sixteen people (but, in the end, twelve because two were found to be minors and another two vulnerable), more than a thousand people landed on the island of Lampedusa. The numbers speak for themselves.The fourth drawback is that of the final results. Once in Albania with their asylum applications processed, what was supposed to happen to all the people who are not finally recognised as refugees? The proposal envisages nothing more than deportation, and the Italian authorities are responsible for this. Yet it is known that, in the European Union, most people who receive an expulsion order (70-80%) are not deported in the end. The explanation basically lies with the resistance of the countries of origin and transit. Let us not forget—though the EU often does—that return is not possible without the express agreement, case by case, by the governments of these countries. Normally, they are ill-disposed to accept returnees as the political cost is not exactly insignificant.To return to the initial question: if what is being proposed is expensive, unlawful, inefficient, and likely to come to nought, why are these centres apparently becoming the new leitmotif of European migration policies? The answer is that the aims are different from those being expressed in public. With regard to the countries of origin, these policies are supposed to act as a deterrent to new departures. The logic is this: if they know they will not be welcome, that they will be deported, and eventually refouled, what incentive would they have to come to Europe? Beyond the issue of whether this argument bears scrutiny in situations where emigration is the only option, this type of policy has neighbouring countries competing over which has the toughest policies and, accordingly, is not among the preferred destinations. It is just one more element of discord in a European Union which, without shared migration policies, will not, in fact, exist.Behind closed doors, these policies represent an attempt to challenge the present legal framework. The discussion is no longer between the far right and the other political forces. Among parties, the differences over immigration are increasingly negligible. The big dispute now is between politics and rule of law. And this raises inevitable questions. Will rule of law be strong enough to put an end to the follies of politics? Or is this a matter of hobbling rule of law, looking for loopholes, discrediting courts of justice, and calling for changes in the law that will affect them first but which, at the end of the day, will affect all of us?Keywords: migration, asylum, Italy, EU, Meloni, Albania, Rwanda, United Kingdom, deportation, return, rule of law, refugeesAll the publications express the opinions of their individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CIDOB or its donors. Image: © European Union, 2023

At the end of July, the murder of three young girls by a British-born youth of Rwandan parents led to violent demonstrations and direct attacks against racialised migrants in several UK cities. This was the third time in the last eleven years that a violent act perpetrated by an individual has ended up in an attempted pogrom. While most analysts emphasise the responsibility of social networks, the underlying causes are related with the definition of the nation, socioeconomic factors, and normalisation of anti-immigration discourse.A shorter version of this article has been published in the daily ARA.This summer has brought with it images of outright pogroms against immigrants, refugees, members of the Muslim community, and racialised people in many cities and towns of the United Kingdom. The murder of three small girls at a dance school in the coastal town of Southport sparked a series of violent attacks against individuals and groups that were totally unrelated with the Southport events. Over a period of ten days, hooded groups attacked racialised people and set fire to mosques, businesses, a refugee shelter, and a library.No one doubts that social networks played a key role. Although the attacker was a British-born Rwandan youth, rumours stating that he was Muslim, an asylum seeker, or an undocumented immigrant soon began to circulate. Far-right activists like Tommy Robinson (with more than 800,000 followers on X), blaming "invaders" who "slaughter your daughters" or Islam itself, claiming that it is a problem of mental health, called for mobilisation. Nevertheless, explanation of this summer's pogroms needs to delve deeper than disinformation. Race riots have been a constant in the history of the United Kingdom and the truly relevant question is: why are certain messages (which, indeed, are now spreading faster than they used to) able to crystallise so quickly into such a violent form? The first cause is related with the definition of us. As Achille Mbembe succinctly explains, slavery and empire led to the creation of two symbolic orders, that of the community of people we recognise as close to us, as being us, and that of the community of "others", the ones who are left out, perceived as pure "merchandise" or pure "surplus". This division between the human and subhuman orders, which made it possible to justify the brutality of slavery and the extreme violence of colonial armies during the independence struggles is, according to Mbembe, the basis of this us/others which provides the framework of present racist discourse.However, in the case of the United Kingdom, the British empire also had an open-door policy for more than 600 million subjects of the colonies of the Commonwealth, and this meant granting British nationality. It was the price paid for the illusion of the "empire on which the sun never sets". Nevertheless, at the time, nobody imagined that the people who would arrive in the United Kingdom would be other than the descendants of those who had left the country. It is important to remember that, throughout modern and contemporary world history, the United Kingdom is one of the countries that has generated most emigration.The problem arose when it quite quickly became evident that those "others" who were imagined as de facto confined to the colonies, had arrived in Britain in large numbers. By the end of the 1950s, race riots in Nottingham and Notting Hill had sounded the alarm. The response was swift. Driven by fear of the "rage" and "bad manners" of the British people, the government opted for draconian measures to put an end to the influx of non-white immigrants coming from Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean. Ever since then, the United Kingdom has been among the countries with the world's most restrictive immigration policies.This stringent closing of borders was justified with a double argument. On the one hand, it was assumed that immigration was a negative phenomenon for the British "people" who, as the Conservative Party politician Enoch Powell asserted, had become "foreigners in their own land". On the other hand, a whole narrative was constructed—and this has lasted until the present day—according to which social harmony and integration of those who had arrived depended on making sure that no more immigrants entered the country. In other words, there is some degree of consensus that the less immigration there is, the more social peace and integration there will be. All this, it is true, was accompanied by anti-discrimination policies that are incomparably braver than those of other European countries.The second reason behind this summer's race riots is socioeconomic. Industrial relocation after the 1970s and, in particular, the neoliberal policies of Margaret Thatcher's Conservative government led to widespread impoverishment of the working classes and state neglect of people who, in this situation, were left to fend for themselves. The last ten years of Conservative policies and the devastating effects of Brexit have only made things worse.Meanwhile, although it may seem contradictory, the British economy has come to depend more and more on the arrival of foreign workers. At first, they were mainly European citizens. In this case, the ill-feeling mainly targeted Polish workers who were accused of stealing British jobs. It is not surprising, then, that the issue of migration was one of the key points in the debates about Brexit. When the United Kingdom left the European Union, the origins of people arriving in the country changed. They are no longer mainly European, and their numbers have kept rising. If before the pandemic the annual figure given for immigrants was 330,000, it has risen to more than 750,000 in the years since Brexit.Finally, the political discourse of recent Conservative governments and the mass media outlets that have supported them is also responsible for the riots. Who could fail to remember the slogan "Stop the Boats" or the proposal to deport asylum seekers to Rwanda? However, it is not a mere matter of words because policies, too, have accelerated the normalisation of such discourse. In the last few years, for example, access to social services has been restricted and the right to family reunion curtailed for many foreign residents, while asylum seekers have been locked up in emergency centres that have come to the point of the grotesque resort of the semi-prison barge that has been holding them in Portland, Dorset. In this regard, as Daniel Trilling says, "the ideological fuel [of the riots] comes from ostensibly more respectable sources" than social media pundits.However, all British politicians, including Nigel Farage, have condemned this summer's violent disturbances. Nobody wants street thuggery or a civil war scenario, as predicted by Elon Musk. Some legislators have been mealy-mouthed in their condemnation and others more forthright although they have tried to excuse or justify the attackers' motives. In any case, it is evident that people who play with fire get burnt. It is easy to blame far-right agitators or the perverse effects of platform algorithms. Although it is essential to regulate both, the definitive solution cannot be found without addressing the underlying causes, revising the definition of national identity, confronting social malaise by reaching out to people who feel abandoned and, finally, going beyond polarising narratives and symbolic politics, which are increasingly leaving their mark on the immigration discourse of all political forces, without exception.Keywords: United Kingdom, riots, immigration, racism, disinformation, social media, SouthportAll the publications express the opinions of their individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CIDOB or its donors

At the end of July, the murder of three young girls by a British-born youth of Rwandan parents led to violent demonstrations and direct attacks against racialised migrants in several UK cities. This was the third time in the last eleven years that a violent act perpetrated by an individual has ended up in an attempted pogrom. While most analysts emphasise the responsibility of social networks, the underlying causes are related with the definition of the nation, socioeconomic factors, and normalisation of anti-immigration discourse.A shorter version of this article has been published in the daily ARA.This summer has brought with it images of outright pogroms against immigrants, refugees, members of the Muslim community, and racialised people in many cities and towns of the United Kingdom. The murder of three small girls at a dance school in the coastal town of Southport sparked a series of violent attacks against individuals and groups that were totally unrelated with the Southport events. Over a period of ten days, hooded groups attacked racialised people and set fire to mosques, businesses, a refugee shelter, and a library.No one doubts that social networks played a key role. Although the attacker was a British-born Rwandan youth, rumours stating that he was Muslim, an asylum seeker, or an undocumented immigrant soon began to circulate. Far-right activists like Tommy Robinson (with more than 800,000 followers on X), blaming "invaders" who "slaughter your daughters" or Islam itself, claiming that it is a problem of mental health, called for mobilisation. Nevertheless, explanation of this summer's pogroms needs to delve deeper than disinformation. Race riots have been a constant in the history of the United Kingdom and the truly relevant question is: why are certain messages (which, indeed, are now spreading faster than they used to) able to crystallise so quickly into such a violent form? The first cause is related with the definition of us. As Achille Mbembe succinctly explains, slavery and empire led to the creation of two symbolic orders, that of the community of people we recognise as close to us, as being us, and that of the community of "others", the ones who are left out, perceived as pure "merchandise" or pure "surplus". This division between the human and subhuman orders, which made it possible to justify the brutality of slavery and the extreme violence of colonial armies during the independence struggles is, according to Mbembe, the basis of this us/others which provides the framework of present racist discourse.However, in the case of the United Kingdom, the British empire also had an open-door policy for more than 600 million subjects of the colonies of the Commonwealth, and this meant granting British nationality. It was the price paid for the illusion of the "empire on which the sun never sets". Nevertheless, at the time, nobody imagined that the people who would arrive in the United Kingdom would be other than the descendants of those who had left the country. It is important to remember that, throughout modern and contemporary world history, the United Kingdom is one of the countries that has generated most emigration.The problem arose when it quite quickly became evident that those "others" who were imagined as de facto confined to the colonies, had arrived in Britain in large numbers. By the end of the 1950s, race riots in Nottingham and Notting Hill had sounded the alarm. The response was swift. Driven by fear of the "rage" and "bad manners" of the British people, the government opted for draconian measures to put an end to the influx of non-white immigrants coming from Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean. Ever since then, the United Kingdom has been among the countries with the world's most restrictive immigration policies.This stringent closing of borders was justified with a double argument. On the one hand, it was assumed that immigration was a negative phenomenon for the British "people" who, as the Conservative Party politician Enoch Powell asserted, had become "foreigners in their own land". On the other hand, a whole narrative was constructed—and this has lasted until the present day—according to which social harmony and integration of those who had arrived depended on making sure that no more immigrants entered the country. In other words, there is some degree of consensus that the less immigration there is, the more social peace and integration there will be. All this, it is true, was accompanied by anti-discrimination policies that are incomparably braver than those of other European countries.The second reason behind this summer's race riots is socioeconomic. Industrial relocation after the 1970s and, in particular, the neoliberal policies of Margaret Thatcher's Conservative government led to widespread impoverishment of the working classes and state neglect of people who, in this situation, were left to fend for themselves. The last ten years of Conservative policies and the devastating effects of Brexit have only made things worse.Meanwhile, although it may seem contradictory, the British economy has come to depend more and more on the arrival of foreign workers. At first, they were mainly European citizens. In this case, the ill-feeling mainly targeted Polish workers who were accused of stealing British jobs. It is not surprising, then, that the issue of migration was one of the key points in the debates about Brexit. When the United Kingdom left the European Union, the origins of people arriving in the country changed. They are no longer mainly European, and their numbers have kept rising. If before the pandemic the annual figure given for immigrants was 330,000, it has risen to more than 750,000 in the years since Brexit.Finally, the political discourse of recent Conservative governments and the mass media outlets that have supported them is also responsible for the riots. Who could fail to remember the slogan "Stop the Boats" or the proposal to deport asylum seekers to Rwanda? However, it is not a mere matter of words because policies, too, have accelerated the normalisation of such discourse. In the last few years, for example, access to social services has been restricted and the right to family reunion curtailed for many foreign residents, while asylum seekers have been locked up in emergency centres that have come to the point of the grotesque resort of the semi-prison barge that has been holding them in Portland, Dorset. In this regard, as Daniel Trilling says, "the ideological fuel [of the riots] comes from ostensibly more respectable sources" than social media pundits.However, all British politicians, including Nigel Farage, have condemned this summer's violent disturbances. Nobody wants street thuggery or a civil war scenario, as predicted by Elon Musk. Some legislators have been mealy-mouthed in their condemnation and others more forthright although they have tried to excuse or justify the attackers' motives. In any case, it is evident that people who play with fire get burnt. It is easy to blame far-right agitators or the perverse effects of platform algorithms. Although it is essential to regulate both, the definitive solution cannot be found without addressing the underlying causes, revising the definition of national identity, confronting social malaise by reaching out to people who feel abandoned and, finally, going beyond polarising narratives and symbolic politics, which are increasingly leaving their mark on the immigration discourse of all political forces, without exception.Keywords: United Kingdom, riots, immigration, racism, disinformation, social media, SouthportAll the publications express the opinions of their individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CIDOB or its donors

The twenty-seven countries of the European Union have unlocked an agreement on the Pact on Migration and Asylum. The process of negotiation among the EU institutions will now begin and it remains to be seen, if it is approved, how this precarious balance might materialise in practice when the interests concerned do not only diverge but are also clearly inflamed by the politicisation of immigration in their respective national contexts. This article was previously published in the newspaperARA. Since 2015, Europe has been haunted by the possibility of a new migration crisis. Then, Angela Merkel uttered the famous words, "Yes we can", in response to the question of whether Europe could take in refugees. But immediately afterwards, Europe said, "Enough". Ever since, it has been obsessed with making sure this does not happen again. The Bulgarian political scientist, Ivan Krastev, calls it the European 9/11. Despite this fear, the EU has taken eight years to conclude a new migration pact. The aim is twofold: to seal European borders, and a more equitable distribution of responsibility among the Member States. But is there really agreement?Most of all, there is hurry. At the European level, there is no desire to be faced with the European elections in June 2024 without having shown unity and determination with regard to the question of migration. Not achieving this would give wings to Eurosceptic and far-right discourse about the inability of European governments to respond to the situation. Moreover, nobody wants in the rotating European Presidency countries like Hungary and Poland, which directly contest the need for an agreement. At the national level, in a situation of growing numbers of arrivals and requests for asylum, governments like those of Germany and Italy urgently need to calm internal tensions. In the case of Germany, the spectre of the far right looms again.There is a rush but there is also some agreement, especially on certain matters. The Vice-President of the European Commission, Margaritis Schinas, describes the Pact as being like a three-storey house where one floor is concerned with relations with third countries, a second with management of external borders, and a third with distributing responsibility among member states. Agreement exists mainly between the first two floors. The third continues to be home to hubbub. In the case of the first floor, there is agreement that third countries are essential for helping to contain illegal arrivals. No one doubts this. The problem lies with the consequences since depending on them leaves European countries in their hands, and there is no regime that willingly accepts the forced return of its citizens. In addition, agreements with governments like that of Tunisia still arouse certain suspicions and do not always end well.On the second floor, that of the border, the Pact allows delays in registration of asylum seekers, introduction of second-rate border asylum procedures, and expanded time of border detention. In short, it means lower standards, and legalising what, hitherto, was unequivocally illegal. The Crisis Regulation, the last that was left to be approved, only aggravates matters. The result is a creation of liminal and exceptional spaces, liminal because the question of whether a border has been crossed is in doubt, and exceptional because, in this no-man's land, certain laws (and hence, rights) no longer apply. This was one of the demands made by Meloni. Meanwhile, the delays and concentration of procedures at borders only consolidates the role of Greece, Italy, and Spain as the chief guardians of Europe's southern borders.Finally, the third floor still requires caution. To begin with, the Pact has forsaken its original intention of a fairer distribution of asylum seekers among the Member States. There will be no mandatory refugee relocation quotas. Solidarity has now become a matter of fines, the notorious 20,000 euros per asylum seeker for countries that refuse to take them in. Although this is a minimum agreement, Poland and Hungary have already said they consider it to be unacceptable. Then again, the Dublin Regulation—the one that Angela Merkel said in 2015 was not working—remains in force and even strengthened. For example, the period during which an asylum seeker who has entered through Spain can be returned from Germany has doubled from twelve to twenty-four months. Once again, the burden is on the countries of first entry. As long as the unequal distribution continues, the system will remain dysfunctional.Is there an agreement then? It depends on how the negotiations with the European Parliament will proceed and, if the Pact is approved, how this precarious balance might materialise in practice when the wishes concerned not only diverge but are also clearly inflamed by the politicisation of immigration in their respective national contexts. However, we could say that, yes, there is agreement, at least outwardly. This is how it has been presented by the Spanish government, which is proud that it has happened under its Presidency of the Council of the European Union. Nevertheless, once again, words and facts differ. The headlines show agreement, but the gestures point in a different direction. Granada was the setting. While Sunak and Meloni called a meeting of six (United Kingdom, Italy, France, the Netherlands, Albania, and the European Commission) to discuss "other" measures for stopping the illegal arrivals, Orbán arrived in the city declaring the Hungary and Poland had been "legally violated" by the Pact.Keywords: Pact on Migration and Asylum, EU, Italy, Hungary, Poland, Spanish presidency, border, arrivals, European Parliament, 2024 elections

This study confronts the double paradox of state-regulated labor migration: while markets benefit from open borders that allow them to meet the demand for migrant workers, the boundaries of citizenship impose a degree of limitation on cross-border migration. At the same time, the exclusivity of citizenship requires closed membership, yet civil and human rights undermine the state's capacity to exclude foreigners once they are inside the country. By considering how Malaysia and Spain have responded to the demand for foreign labor, this book analyzes the unavoidable clash of markets, citizenship, and rights.This truly comparative book will become a standard work in the field. It opens new research venues, with major implications for a state migration control theory that has too long been Atlanto-centred. Leo Lucassen, Leiden University

En los últimos años, a pesar de un mayor control migratorio, la inmigración irregular ha crecido tanto en España como en Malasia y Estados Unidos. Este incremento de la inmigración irregular ha sido explicado principalmente en relación a factores socioeconómicos. Sin embargo, si bien estos factores explican la presencia de flujos migratorios hacia estos países, no logran explicar por qué parte de estos flujos se da de forma irregular. Para ello tenemos que tomar en consideración el Estado y sus políticas de inmigración. Partiendo de esta premisa, esta investigación analiza hasta qué punto, cómo y por qué las políticas de inmigración en España, Malasia y Estados Unidos producen "ilegales". Esto significa analizar no sólo cómo y por qué las políticas de inmigración contribuyen a incrementar el número de inmigrantes irregulares, sino también cómo y por qué, negando sus derechos y a menudo su existencia, crean la figura del "ilegal". Como se demuestra en esta nota de investigación para el caso de Malasia, la inmigración irregular no es a pesar de las políticas de inmigración, sino como consecuencia de ellas

The first year of war in Gaza has caused the forced displacement of 85% of the population. While it is central to the conflict, little analysis has been conducted from this perspective.The singular nature of this displacement is threefold: the goal of the conflict is expulsion; the purpose of the expulsion is expansion into the territory; and the expulsion is intended to be permanent, with no possibility of return. These three aspects have been a constant in the history of the Palestinian people since the creation of the state of Israel in 1948.Gaza illustrates the calamitous failure of international law, both in the humanitarian field and regarding asylum. What has gone wrong? How do we explain the unjustifiable? It has now been a year since the attacks led by Hamas on October 7th, 2023. Since then, the Israeli offensive in the Gaza Strip has caused the forced displacement of nearly 2 million people and over 41,000 deaths. According to an article published recently in The Lancet, deaths related to the conflict (due to malnutrition or lack of medical attention, for example) are believed to have reached 186,000 in June 2024. These figures mean that 85% of the population of Gaza have had to flee their homes and that 8% (primarily women and children) are thought to have died during the offensive. Taking into account direct and indirect fatalities, the military campaign in Gaza has produced a higher daily death rate than any other 21st century armed conflict. Following South Africa's accusation, in January 2024 the International Court of Justice (ICJ) concluded that genocide charges against Israel could not be dismissed.Multiple mechanisms have contributed to the forced displacement of most of Gaza's population. First, the evacuation orders issued by the Israeli government. The earliest ones came just a few days after the outbreak of the conflict and affected the whole of northern Gaza, triggering the forced displacement of over 1.1 million Palestinians in less than 24 hours. As the invasion advanced, others followed, for example in Khan Younis in December and January, or in Rafah in May 2024. The latter led to the evacuation of another 1 million people, many of them already displaced in the preceding months (some several times). Second, forced displacements have also resulted from bombardments, which have destroyed most homes and civil infrastructure (from hospitals to schools and roads) and pose a threat to life even in zones supposedly declared safe. Lastly, on top of all this is the difficulty of surviving amidst severe restrictions on access to safe drinking water, electricity, food, medical supplies and other basic products. In May, the United Nations concluded that the situation in Gaza had "reached unprecedented levels of emergency".While the forced displacement of the population of Gaza is a key element of the conflict, not just a consequence, there is little analysis that focuses on this issue. Hence the need for this Nota Internacional CIDOB, which aims to review the first year of the Gaza offensive through the lens of migration. From an internal perspective, the question arises as to the nature of the forced displacement, which in this case is planned and intended to facilitate the occupation of the territory. From an external standpoint, when the forced displacement is accompanied by a policy of closed borders, the question is: what role do international law, the United Nations and the various parties involved play? Organised forced displacementThe term forced displacement refers to all situations in which people are obliged to flee their homes or place of habitual residence because of armed conflicts, violence, persecution and human rights violations, natural disasters or human-made catastrophes. It is a broad definition that covers very different conditions depending on whether the action that causes the displacement is carried out by states, whether the persecution is individual or collective, whether it is planned action, or the specific purpose with which it is carried out. That is why, regarding the Gaza conflict, Adamson and Greenhill propose a more precise term: "organised forced migration". It is intended to describe those situations where migration is used as a geopolitical tool by state elites and other actors. But again, this term covers very disparate situations, with population movements that can be voluntary or forced and serve purposes as varied as creating an empire or consolidating a nation-state project, negotiating foreign policy with third countries (in what is understood as exploitation of migration), or it may be the result of a migration management policy (deportations, for example). Precisely because the range of situations is so diverse, we believe it is necessary to define the term further – in two respects in our view. One, rather than organised forced migration, we should be talking about organised forced displacement. The switch from migration to displacement is fundamental as we are talking about the expulsion of people from their places of origin or residence. And two, we must remember that in this case the expulsion of the Palestinian population is the other face of Israeli territorial expansion. The ultimate goal of the occupation is the annexation and permanent settlement of the land. The way the Israeli government sees it, this means reducing the number of Palestinians living there to a minimum. In 2016, Yair Lapid, an Israeli politician regarded as a centrist or even liberal and who was briefly prime minister in 2022, declared in a newspaper: "My principle is maximum Jews on maximum land with maximum security and with minimum Palestinians". This is no temporary displacement then. The expulsion is intended to be final and from where the Israeli government stands, and contrary to international law, return is not seen as a possibility. All this leads us to the conclusion that, compared to other situations of forced displacement, the singularity of the case of Gaza is threefold. First, the displacement is not a consequence of the conflict but is rather one of its main objectives, as it forms part of an organised strategy on the part of the state of Israel. Second, the purpose is expulsion from a territory in order to expand into it. In this respect, it is not so different from the case of the Rohingya in Myanmar, where genocide, expulsion and land grabbing went hand in hand. Third, the expulsion is intended to be permanent, which as we shall see later challenges the meaning of international protection and increases the geopoliticisation of migration.Expulsion-expansion The expulsion-expansion pairing has been a constant in the history of the Palestinian people since the creation of the state of Israel in 1948. Then, the Nakba ("catastrophe" in Arabic) led to the death of 15,000 people and the forced displacement of 800,000. In 1967, with the Israeli occupation of Gaza and the West Bank, a further 300,000 Palestinians were forced to flee their homes. The expulsions have not stopped since. In the West Bank, they have been achieved through land seizures, the demolition of homes, the expansion of illegal settlements, and as a result of severe restrictions on movement within the territory. October 7th has only accelerated these processes, with a surge in attacks and murders perpetrated by settlers and punitive incursions on the part of the Israeli army. In Gaza, the Israeli government withdrew its military presence and the settlements in 2005, but it continues to exercise indirect control, with air, land and sea blockades that have made the population's material living conditions extremely difficult. The academic and human rights lawyer Munir Nuseibah, based in Al-Quds University in Jerusalem, has identified six methods through which the state of Israel has driven the forced displacement of the Palestinian population over the years. The first method is direct and relates to the violence inflicted on the civilian population in times of war. The second is the outcome of administrative engineering, for example constructing precarious and revocable forms of both residency and nationality. According to Israel's Ministry of the Interior, 14,152 Palestinians lost their residency between 1967 and 2011. In 2003, there were estimated to be as many as 10,000 unregistered minors in East Jerusalem. The third mechanism includes imprisonment and deportation, often as punishment for exercising fundamental political rights such as demonstrating or expressing opinions. According to a report by the United Nations special rapporteur for the occupied Palestinian territories, Francesca Albanese, since 1967 over 800,000 Palestinians, including children as young as 12, have been detained by the Israeli army, frequently without hard evidence or trial and subject to inhumane conditions.The other mechanisms to forcibly displace the Palestinian population involve restricting life to such an extreme that there is no alternative but to take flight. The fourth mechanism, then, relates to urban planning and the distribution of resources. For example, it includes Jewish settlements in occupied zones, legitimising the demolition of homes and even whole villages. It also includes infrastructure construction, starting with the 800 km of wall that stretch along the West Bank and surround Jerusalem. As well as annexing territories, this makes it difficult for the Palestinian population to work, live and move freely. It also includes the extraction of resources in the occupied Palestinian territories to Israel's own benefit or the expropriation of properties, for example in zones declared nature reserves. By way of illustration, it is estimated that 500 Palestinian villages have been destroyed by the Israeli government's parks and forests policy. The fifth mechanism is linked to the appropriation of land and property under discriminatory and openly biased courts. Lastly, restricting access to water, food and other basic products also plays a role in driving people from their homes. Restricted access to safe drinking water, exacerbated over the last year, is one of the starkest symbols of the violation of fundamental rights.The history of the Palestinian people since 1948 shows that more expulsions of Palestinians spell further Israeli expansion. Facts aside, the expulsion-expansion pairing is also reflected in political discourse, which has become even more explicit over the last year. Just a few days after October 7th, for example, the Israeli minister Gideon Sa'ar told media that "Gaza must be smaller at the end of the war". Around the same time, a leaked report by Israel's intelligence service revealed plans to permanently transfer the inhabitants of Gaza to Egypt's Sinai Peninsula. The agriculture minister, Avi Dichter, called it the new "Gaza Nakba". In December, the hard-right politician and Israeli finance minister, Bezalel Smotrich, was categorical: "What needs to be done in the Gaza Strip is to encourage emigration. If there are 100,000 or 200,000 Arabs in Gaza and not 2 million Arabs, the entire discussion on the day after will be totally different". On the plans for the day after, the proposition appears to be clear too. In late 2023, a real estate firm espoused starting to build in Gaza. In January 2024, several Israeli government ministers attended a convention of hundreds of settlers (titled "Settlement brings security") that called for rebuilding settlements.Crisis of international lawFollowing the horrors of the Second World War, the Geneva Conventions of 1949, which were ratified universally, laid the foundations of international humanitarian law underpinned by a series of rules establishing minimum standards of humanity that must be upheld in any situation of armed conflict. Two years later, the Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees of 1951 defined the rights of refugees and the international rules (binding on all signatory states) to protect those who, unable to find protection in their places of origin, had no option but to flee. Gaza illustrates the calamitous failure of international law, both in the humanitarian field and regarding asylum.In a recent article, Cordula Droege, chief legal officer of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), argued that international humanitarian law arose to protect the civilian population when prevention mechanisms or the peaceful resolution of conflicts failed. Ultimately, it implies recognising the right to war (where both sides can kill, injure, detain and destroy), but it prohibits them from dehumanising the adversary. It does not set out to end war, rather to make it humane, striking an equilibrium between two apparently irreconcilable imperatives: military necessity and our common humanity. This means unequivocally prohibiting acts such as torture, rape, taking hostages, targeting the civilian population or the wounded. In other areas the rules are more nuanced, but, in any event, they establish that civilian casualties must be avoided or minimised. The case of Gaza – as we have already said, with the highest daily death rate of the 21st century, mostly women and children – shows its unmitigated failure. A literal interpretation of the norms, which invokes the absence of clear violations, cannot justify the level of death, injury and destruction that international humanitarian law primarily aims to prevent.When protection of the civilian population in conflict contexts fails, what remains is the right to asylum. But that requires crossing a border, and this is precisely what is completely out of the question for the inhabitants of Gaza. In a nutshell, they are driven to leave, but leaving is impossible. There are two reasons for this. First, granting them asylum in another country would mean facilitating and, in a sense, accepting Israel's plans – that is, the expulsion of the Palestinians from the Gaza Strip. Neighbouring countries like Jordan, Lebanon and Syria are only too aware; they have seen how Palestinian refugees settled permanently. There is little doubt that, once again, it would be a departure with no possibility of return, with a state of Israel that would not only refuse to allow them back but also roll out a policy of repopulation with Jewish settlers (in the style of the West Bank) that would make the resolution of the conflict even more difficult. In this respect, for many Palestinians staying is also a form of resistance. Second, the neighbouring countries have no appetite for more refugees or to import the Palestinian-Israeli conflict inside their borders more than it already is. King Abdullah II of Jordan (which borders the West Bank, but not Gaza) was succinct on the matter: "No refugees in Jordan, no refugees in Egypt". Responsibility in question Given the circumstances, one might ask what the role of the United Nations has been as guarantor of the observance of international law and the protection of civilians. It is here where the longstanding division between the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA) and the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) comes in. Following the Arab-Israeli war of 1948, UNRWA was created in 1949 to attend to the development, education, health, social services and emergency aid to Palestinian refugees in Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. When the convention on refugees was approved two years later in 1951, it was agreed that the right to seek asylum and UNHCR's mandate would not apply to those people already under the protection of another United Nations body or agency: in other words, the Palestinians. According to James C. Hathaway, a professor of law at the University of Michigan, this exclusion came in response to a dual concern: on one side, the concern of the Arab nations, which sought to prevent a Palestinian diaspora from being denied the potential to pursue a state of their own; on the other, that of the European countries, who had no wish to see a substantial number of Palestinian refugees arrive at their borders.As a result, since then, the Palestinian issue has remained exclusively in the hands of UNRWA. Yet experts like James C. Hathaway himself and Jeff Crisp argue that there are compelling reasons for UNHCR and Egypt to take joint responsibility for the fate of the inhabitants of Gaza. The first relates to the very article of the refugee convention – Art. 1(D) – that excluded the Palestinians, but only on a contingent and temporary basis. Specifically, this article states that should the United Nations (meaning UNRWA in this case) cease to (be able to) guarantee protection to the Palestinians, these people would "ipso facto" fall under the convention (ergo under UNHCR's mandate). Many legal scholars, including Jane McAdam and Guy S. Goodwin-Gill, suggest that it is time to weigh this option given UNRWA's difficulties in providing protection. It must be remembered that these difficulties have been determined by the direct action of the state of Israel, which has placed suffocating restrictions on humanitarian aid, putting the safety of UNRWA workers at risk (take the six staffers killed in an attack on a school in September 2024 for example). And it has accused the agency of terrorism, which has prompted many key donors to withhold funding (the United States included), even when no hard evidence has been forthcoming. According to Yara M. Así, from the standpoint of the state of Israel putting an end to UNRWA would not only facilitate its expulsion plans but also improve the chances of ending recognition of the Palestinians as refugees and, therefore, their right to return.The second reason for extending protection of the Gaza population beyond UNRWA is related to the principle of non-refoulement. The convention on refugees (Art. 33), the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (Arts. 6 and 7) and the Convention Against Torture (Art. 3) all oblige states not to turn people away at their borders if returning them could pose a risk to their lives. Given the circumstances of extreme emergency in Gaza, there is no doubt that rejection at the border with Egypt could well present such a case. If so, Egypt, as a signatory to the refugee convention, and by extension UNHCR, would be responsible. Yet neither Egypt nor UNHCR, which has barely commented on the issue of Palestinian refugees in Gaza, appears willing to acknowledge that responsibility. As Jeff Crisp states, while reluctance to facilitate the state of Israel's expulsion plans is understandable, the right to asylum is (or should be) a universal and non-negotiable right.Without the right to leave and to recognition of international protection, the choice is this: either remain under bombardment and in a permanent state of emergency or pay between $5,000 and $10,000 per person to get out. In May 2024, it was revealed that Egyptian companies like Hala Consulting and Tourism Services had exploited the situation by charging mounting sums to facilitate the border crossing and provide transport to Cairo. The firm is estimated to have made around $2m a day, hitting $118m in profits from February to April 2024 alone. The extortionate fees these companies charge is not only attributable to the high levels of corruption at the border but also, as some media outlets have reported, to their direct relations with the Egyptian army and even with the president himself. But fleeing is no guarantee of protection either. Once in Egypt, most remain in legal limbo, with no residence permit and therefore no access to basic services, in a country that hosts 9 million refugees (1 million recognised by UNHCR) and in increasingly precarious socioeconomic conditions.Geopoliticisation of migrationAs they are expelled by the state of Israel and shunned by neighbouring states, the Palestinian refugee issue has become a key element of international relations. It is what we might define as the geopoliticisation of migration. That is to say, when states use their migration policy as a means of conditioning foreign policy or, conversely, when they turn foreign policy into a tool for purposes of migration management. Normally, the two strategies occur at the same time and are reciprocal. While the former exploit their geographical situation and capacity to contain migratory flows to put pressure on the latter in their demands in certain foreign policy areas, the latter base their foreign policy on the former's readiness to collaborate on migration matters, externalising migration control and with that limiting the arrivals of irregular migrants at their borders.In this regard, there is no doubt that the October 7th attacks have placed Egypt centre stage. For the Egyptian government, the invasion of Gaza meant gaining bargaining power at a moment marked by one of the worst economic crises of its recent history and by unprecedented levels of debt. By way of illustration, Egypt is the second-largest debtor to the International Monetary Fund (IMF), with an external debt amounting to a total of $164.5bn, according to the Central Bank of Egypt. In the new context marked by the war in Gaza, and as a country that is too big to be allowed to fail in an increasingly unstable region, in March 2024 the IMF (with the United States behind it) raised the initial loan from $3bn to $8bn. There were also rumours of cancelling its debt in exchange for agreeing to take in Palestinian refugees in the Sinai Peninsula. While the Egyptian minister denied there had been pressure in that regard on the part of the United States and Israel, history reveals that debt cancellation has been used before as a bargaining tool. In 1991, for example, the United States and its allies wrote off half of Egypt's debt in exchange for its participation in the anti-Iraq coalition in the second Gulf war.The relations between Egypt and the European Union (EU) have been more explicit, with the signing of a migration deal in March 2024 in the style of those struck previously with countries such as Turkey, Tunisia and Mauritania. True, the negotiations began prior to October 7th, but it is also true that the invasion of Gaza (and the prospect of a surge in Palestinian refugees heading for Europe) added extra urgency to the talks. Then vice-president of the European Commission, Margaritis Schinas, described Egypt as an "important and reliable" partner in the management of migration. According to European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen herself, "Egypt's role is vital for the security and stability of the Middle East, and it hosts a growing number of refugees". But only a fraction of the €7.4bn pledged to Egypt in the agreement of March 2024 is earmarked for managing migration (€200m). The rest is made up of favourable loans to aid Egypt's economic development (€5bn) and investments in the energy sector (€1.8bn). This means that while we are witnessing a gradual geopoliticisation of migration (where cash is exchanged for control, with no conditionalities in terms of human rights, remember), we should not lose sight of the fact that migration is one element of exchange among many. International relations aside, the Palestinian refugee issue, and particularly the breach of international humanitarian law, has also entered domestic politics in many countries. Pro-Israel lobbies are important in countries such as the United States or the United Kingdom, and the history of the 20th century also steers many European governments in a similar direction. But the horrors suffered by the civilian population in Gaza over the course of the last year, and the indefensible inaction on the part of the international community, have positioned a growing share of public opinion in favour of an end to the conflict and a peaceful solution with recognition of both states. That was already the case in most Arab countries, where government positions are much more lukewarm than those of their own people. This gap between the official government line and public opinion is widening in many Western countries too, reflected in the increasing mobilisation of student groups. It is not a minor issue. In fact, it could play a significant role in November's presidential elections in the United States, either shifting a part of the vote towards Kamala Harris or discouraging voters altogether.Return to international lawThere is a common thread running through everything we have said so far: geopolitics comes before the law, interests before lives and destruction of the adversary before common humanity. We must return to international law and reconcile what is politically possible with what is acceptable and fair, or in other words, political equilibriums with legal principles. One thing cannot come at the expense of the other. Like any forcibly displaced person, the Palestinian people have the right to rebuild their lives in a safe place and with dignity. This means providing a multidimensional response: recognising their status as refugees and, therefore, their right to asylum; facilitating access to decent material living conditions; and tackling the solution which, as required by international law, means restitution and, for those who have fled, return. Anything else, that is to say continuing to prioritise interests over rights, is unacceptable, essentially because renouncing our common humanity can only be synonymous with barbarism.ISSN: 2013-4428DOI: https://doi.org/10.24241/NotesInt.2024/309/enAll the publications express the opinions of their individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of CIDOB or its donors.