The Great Escape

"That is a good trick about this world, Sarah. No one likes each other, but everyone likes U2."

It's difficult to determine what the important things in this world are. What are the things that we should really be concerned about? And the truth is that, when we find the answer to this question (or at least, when we think we have), we are so busy trying to survive everything else that those things that we would like to place as priority end up being the thoughts that occupy our minds in that semi-lucid time between consciousness and dreams. And so the good intentions that we have often fall prey to the intentions that become imposed on us by family, work, school, society... and we find ourselves only being a fraction of the person that we could be. Unfortunately, I have begun to realise that this same disease has taken hold of my blog. Sadly, those things which are important have evaded these pages, and I apologise for allowing what should be a great platform to become somewhat of a journal.

Thus, to atone, I have been inspired to tackle a topic that we do not think about enough: refugees. Do refugees exist in a globalised society? Should they? And what about policy? Should government policy prioritise refugee legislation, or perhaps it is not even that important? I do not really know the finite answers to any of those questions, and I do not wish to offer any solutions to an idea that continues to baffle minds much greater than mine. As always, however, I do wish to purvey some of my thoughts on the matter, and hope that a discussion will be started that will lead us, all of us, to asking the questions that need to be asked and have to be answered.

If being a history major has taught me anything, it is that one cannot begin to discuss anything before first defining that which is to be discussed. So let's take a moment to determine what, for us, a refugee is. While I do not rest on the authority of the United Nations in terms of policy and implementation, I do believe that the chaps over at HQ in New York are really good at the semantics of the whole thing. I suppose that when you're being ineffective, time opens up nicely for you to create definitions. And they also make them sound so intelligent, albeit only for aesthetic appeal as opposed to actual World Peace (how dare we expect so much from them?). But I digress. According to the United Nations Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees (how fancy!) a refugee is:

"A person who owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country; or who, not having a nationality and being outside the country of his former habitual residence as a result of such events, is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to return to it.."

What a verbose way of saying "A person who does not belong". So, according to the wise cranks at the UN, a refugee is someone who cannot return home for fear of persecution for various reasons. I think that this is a fairly accurate definition, at least for the intents and purposes of this here blog. There really is no real need to delve further into the philosophical anomalies of what this definition means. We can just accept it at face value, and move on.
I think that the biggest question, and the one that I would like to tackle first, is: What is society's responsibility to refugees? I definitely understand the moral dilemma: as much as we are all citizens of God's green earth, surely it cannot be expected that those nations that struggle even to look after their own citizens, be morally obligated to care for others. I also know that this sounds heartless, but consider a country like Tanzania. By 2008, Tanzania had played safe sanctuary to nearly 433 000 refugees. This while being one of the world's poorest economies, in terms of per capita income. Does that sort of impoverished society have the capacity to act as safe haven? And should they? Since then, Tanzania have somewhat begun to deny the refugee issue, and are in the process of derefuginising (?) their state - quite undercover. And there seems to be this shock-and-horror cry from our fluffy friends in the Human Rights aisle, because clearly Tanzania should equate the needs of the refugees to those of their own citizens. Surely...?

And then there is the issue of legislature. In the developing world, issues on immigration and refugees are a much bigger boiling point than they are for us. I wonder why that is, and I wonder if perhaps they have it right. Ok, yes, we love the spirit of Ubuntu and singing Kumbaya and the warm fuzzy feeling we get from the spirit that unites us citizens of the horned continent. But surely this is an issue that warrants more than a brief thought, especially in a country where we have proven we're not really fond of those African brothers and sisters from across the way. How much thought do we give to our government’s response to refugees? Last year, we basically handed out free residency to all Zimbabwean citizens, without so much as a voter-friendly warning. How surprised, then, are we really going to be when there are more xenophobic attacks because people feel threatened by the growing mass of foreigners? Am I advocating for panga warfare? No. I find the attacks and those who supported them grossly despicable, as would any morally conscious person. But it seems as though the waters will continue to boil if government fails to educate us on refugee matters, and how much we as citizens need to contribute/sacrifice to the pan-African brotherhood. Government has to (or at least, should) justify the decisions that they make when governing us, so that we can know that the choices they make are the ones that are best going to protect us. If a portion of my tax-payer’s income is going to the cause of the fellow man, I should know how big that portion is, because it is a portion that is going to be taken out of my mouth.

Ok, but then we cannot actually discredit the other side of the argument. Something must be said for the humanitarian argument; the argument that I am sure a large section of the population would subscribe to. Perhaps even an argument strong enough to supersede the analytical and rational arguments as stated above. Because as much as we try to deny it, we are not only thinking beings, but we are feeling beings, as well.

There is a truth in the "do unto others" proverb. We never know the situation that we are going to find ourselves in, or when we are going to be the ones in need. But I do think it’s more than that: none of us choose our lot in life. We do not know the circumstances that we are going to be born into. In the same way that Paris Hilton scored MAJORLY big by being born a Hilton, the members of our society who are forced to flee their homes did not choose to be born into such terrible times. We cannot hold refugees responsible for their need to become refugees, and so there is a moral obligation to look at our own privileged situation and recognise that our rights are perhaps not really, or only, our own. We cannot really be arrogant and elitist in our thinking and practices, because the benefits and freedoms that we are afforded are nothing that we have really earned or worked for, so what right do we have not to extend those same benefits and freedoms to others? It is more than being selfish, really, if we hold on to our rights as citizens of a free society without recognising the unfortunate situation that other people are stuck in. It is ungratefulness and self-entitlement that makes us think we are more important than others, and it is living a lie that this importance is divinely given to those who are more deserving.

But perhaps we need to go even further back in the process of this argument, and ask ourselves whether or not refugees should even be possible to exist in a globalised community. The world is getting smaller, and not just in terms of social and technological areas. Economically, our pockets are very closely linked to the pockets of others across our borders. When there is turmoil in the Middle East, we all feel it with the increase of petrol prices. Nobody was safe from the recent global recession, not even our humble Mzansi, and so we cannot deny that we are all – in a strange way – connected. Major consulting firms like Accenture, Bain and Peppers and Rogers have the Chinese working in Portugal and the Portuguese in Argentina. We are meeting people every day from different countries who, for various reasons, have landed on our shores and now call South Africa home. The lines of division that used to be so solid are being erased by pop culture, philosophy, politics and religion. Regional organisations like the African Union, NATO and the EU are slowly eroding what was once sacrosanct national sovereignty. And so it seems almost juvenile that we can say a refugee flees one country to go to another, because the concept of the nation state is slowly becoming more sentimental than anything else. And so if the ties that bind us are becoming stronger than the lines that divide us, than the notion of citizenship is also a loose one. Our global passports are open, so do we have the authority to deny anyone entrance and the opportunity to strive and succeed?

I guess the defining factor has to do with give and take. We want the individual to be able to flourish, and I suppose that is why we give them asylum: their own states are unable to provide them with that “pursuit of happiness”. But I also think that we need to keep in mind the “give”. Is it fair to call refugees parasites? Is it morally acceptable? Politically correct? Maybe the word is strong, but I do believe that if a country (in the loose sense of the word) is going to open its borders to a person, then it is that person’s responsibility to give back to the community that is housing him or her. I understand the limitations in the capacity of the individual, but perhaps we need to change the notion of refugee as asylum seeker to refugee as enhancement seeker to change the role that refugees play in our societies.

There are many elements of this argument that there is not time to discuss now. Perhaps we will come back to this at a later time. However, whether or not you’re a refugee, a citizen by birth or ancestry or have allegiance to more than one state, I would like to leave you with a simple thought. This is not a new thought, and I am positive that there are others who have and will put it in much more eloquent words. The quotation at the top of this article is from the book Little Bee by Chris Cleave. The sad truth about what is being said is that humans seem to find similarities in everything, but our humanity. I do not know the answer to The Great Refugee Question, but let us just start with this one commitment: to treat others as though they are neither greater nor lesser than us, but rather as equal foreigners in a journey that we are all experiencing for the first time: life. Let those of us who have never had to flee, escape, hide or fight be thankful for those who have made that possible. And let us never forget those who have not had the same fortune.

“How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.” Portia in The Merchant of Venice

I don't believe in the stars

It is not surprising that it took a long Rhodetrip home to inspire me to start writing again. While I had known that my relationship with Joburg had ended when my love affair with Grahamstown began, I had thought that the break up was an amicable one. Sadly, I am not exempt to the age-old wisdom of: thou canst not a friend to thine ex be. And I finally understand why: because your ex is everything you were, who you used to be, the food you used to like and your waste-high, faded jeans that used to be in style.

Joburg and I no longer have anything in common. We do not listen to the same music, watch the same movies or find the same jokes tolerable. While Johannesburg is concerned with building of the road, I care more about where the road is headed. Johannesburg counts the pennies; I am more accustomed to not having any to count. At some point, Joburg became more of a 'Time Magazine' reader, whilst I took on a liking for 'The Economist'. When we go out for lunch, Joburg and I can no longer share a meal because I like the pasta, and Joburg prefers the steak. Johannesburg grew up listening to The Rolling Stones, whereas for me, it was Michael Jackson who really changed my life.

Not to say that there is anything wrong with this. I think that it takes a great deal of maturity (yes, on my part) to admit that I have lost familiarity with my oldest friend. And it is this thought that really gave me the impetus to begin to feel the feelings that led me to be sitting, once more, in front of a computer.

In as much as we find it difficult to say farewell to a relationship that has already ended, we also find it difficult to see that life is actually not as complicated as it may seem. Sure, the detail changes here and there, but for the most part the structure can be deemed as somewhat predictable. If [barely] completing Drama 3 successfully has taught me anything, it's that everything must have a beginning, middle and end. Nothing can last in this world, because nothing is meant to last. That's just not the option we are given. And so, as I have learnt with my relationship with Johannesburg, life, too, must come to its inevitable denouement. The sad part, however, is that instead of "Rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light', our lives become dim and pointless. We accept that because life began without our consent, and it is going to end without our knowing, we abdicate our control of whatever happens in between

And what a shame. Not a shame that we let our lights die, because that it how we are brought up. We are told to dream whatever we want, and then when we turn 8 we are told that those dreams need to be limited. We are told to strive for more than mediocre, but we are brought up to treasure a comfort and security that can only be achieved when we do what everyone else is doing. So there is no shame in letting our lights die out.

The shame is that we let the darkness in.

I do not have to travel very far in my own history to remember a time when I believed that I could be different. Where I aimed higher than the bull's eye on the ceiling. And now here I am, stuck (yes, I use stuck wisely, here) in a job that is pointless and with a life that does not satisfy. Back with Johannesburg, thinking that I can have a relationship with one that had stopped to satisfy me a very long time ago.

While I write what is in my heart, I never want this blog to be about me - a topic that, I do not doubt, is of great interest but that will not be of much value to whomever may stumble across my cyber space. What I aim to do is to leave you with a thought that started in my brain, and that would like to take residence in yours.

I no longer believe in the stars, at least not in the way that it has been taught. Our sun is so pathetic in comparison to the billions that sparkle in the heavens, and yet we seem so content with it. How very pathetic of us!

Week challenge: my light is not compared to the light of the sun, neither is it compared to those balls of fire that burn so far away. My light is exactly that: MY light. I refuse to let it be defined by anything or anyone but me. I am my star, and my light is bright. I will not suffer myself to settle for a light that shines dimmer than the one I know shines within me.

This is not a motivational message. This is a message to the little kid in all of us who IS Batman, who CAN fly and who WILL change the world. This message is to that star. I'm sorry I told you to stop shining. How foolish of me. I want you to take me to the end of the world, remind me what it's like to ride on a unicorn and to jump off a rainbow. I miss my star.

From now on, I do not just believe in stars. I believe in Shakespeare's "auspicious star" that catapulted the world's greatest romance, stirred up a Tempest, and changed the world.