• Decolonising Asylum ?

    From the outset, I have to warn you, dear reader, that I am not trying to dispute the subject matter of ‘decolonising asylum’ in this short blog but rather raise a fundamental question, thus: How can we ‘decolonise’ our relation with the ‘Other’? Indeed, this represents an invitation for everyone interested to imagine a way of life beyond the mere conventional framing of ‘coloniality’.

    As Professor Nelson Maldonado-Torres has written (caribbeanstudiesassociation.org/docs/Maldonado-Torres_Outline_Ten_Theses-10.23.16.pdf), coloniality is:
    ’the catastrophic transformation of whatever we can consider as human space, time, structure, culture, subjectivity, objectivity, and methodology, into dehumanizing coordinates or foundations that serve to perpetuate the inferiority of some and the superiority of others.’

    Decoloniality is a mode of critique that seeks to understand and challenge these exclusive practices of othering and the hierarchical understanding of the human. As typical subjects of coloniality, refugees and people seeking asylum are often exposed to regimes of othering, bordering and ordering. Thus, countering the persistence of these exclusive practices would necessitate decolonising asylum.

    In a bid to better formulate my question, let me now turn to what I would call ‘the refugee’s triple loss’, or rather, the loss of ‘home’, loss of ‘humanity’, or arguably the worst, loss of ‘hope’. Home is neither a place nor does it necessarily constitute specified persons; it is a relation of sociality – “the self and its relation to the other in time and space”. Involuntarily displaced, the refugee has lost his/her human-to-human connectivity, along with spatial and temporal relations. What this loss of home means in actuality is that refugees are stripped of their capacity for socio-political existence and situatedness in time and place. Once rendered unintelligible, they succumb with total submission to biopolitical and necropolitical b/ordering. This total surrender is epitomised by accompanying apocalyptic imagery of refugees dying at borders, in deserts, in camps, or lost at sea. Indeed, unfortunately they often die in the process of seeking the asylum that they are so often denied systematically.

    In the global order in which we live, the state has assumed the role of policing one’s access to being classified as a human entity. And in this system of b/ordering, the homeless refugee is thrown into the realm of the sub-human. We all know that refugees lose their lives merely to be human. Refugee life is a life lived amid the daily admission of vulnerability and violability. Once they have lost state protection, humanity for the refugees is a condition of impossibility within the frame of coloniality. They are taken hostage in a state of an “incomplete death” as Frantz Fanon famously said. Or, according to Maldonado-Torres, they “live with death and are not even “people””.

    The last point I wish to raise concerns the issue of ‘hope’. Hope remains the most potent force refugees have at their disposal. It is the only means available to them to sustain their survival and aim at effecting change. In that sense, hope is the struggle of the oppressed – one that is propelled into the future. To put it more succinctly, it is a tacit resistance against the ‘coloniality’ of the future and conditions of impossibility for its decolonisation. Losing hope, therefore, is an involuntary admission of coloniality to be the norm of the present and the future. The state reifies this involuntary admission of hopelessness by negating refugees’ humanity, rendering them rightless corporealities.
    I have now briefly introduced what I mean by the refugee’s triple loss. I have also suggested that refugees are rendered homeless, sub-human and hopeless by the very same world order in which we all reside. Here now comes a more fundamental question, thus: If the ‘world-order’ we live in is rendering our fellow human beings politically untilligible and reduces them to sub-humanity, and if it is keeping them hopeless in an impoverished and precarious state of being, then what kind of b/ordering is this? And, most importantly, what can we do about it? Is the right to asylum the only answer?

    Well, asylum might represent a potential response but for success we must inherently decolonise the asylum system itself. We have to imagine beyond the conventional thresholds and parameters set by the state in conjunction with its mutant twins: charity and humanitarianism.

    It is time to accept that neither the granting of declaratory ‘right to remain’ nor the provision of ‘daily bread’ can shake the omnipresence of coloniality.

    We have to think of repairing the losses of home, humanity and hope. These losses cannot be permanent, however institutionalised they might appear to be. Thus, the impermanence of these seemingly permanent losses must be examined and subjected to a permanent disclosure from which possibilities for radical change can be inferred. Furthermore, decolonial work – the work of destroying the conditions of impossibility while also opening multiple possibilities for co-existence – is the ultimate activation of the decolonisation of the notion of asylum.

    I cannot offer a shred of thought, at least for the purposes of this blog, on how decolonising asylum can be achieved at empirical, conceptual, or, indeed, policy levels. I therefore leave the question open for the more inquisitive among us through the most tremendous tool in our possession: imagination. I wish to orient the question as an invitation for a ‘decolonial turn’, which according to Maldonado-Torres, is “the definitive entry of enslaved and colonized subjectivities into a realm of thought at before unknown institutional levels”.


    #colonialité #décolonial #décolonisation #asile #réfugiés #migrations #colonialité #alterité #home #b/ordering #espoir


    ping @isskein @karine4

  • 4è Vague : les secrets inavouables de la prophétie de Véran ! (Les Patriotes)


    http://les-patriotes.fr/jadhere​ 🇫🇷

    (Pour rappel, Les Patriotes, nouvelle formation politique, ne bénéficient d’AUCUN soutien financier public ni d’aucun soutien bancaire. Ils vivent exclusivement des adhérents et donateurs.)






    https://les-patriotes.fr/petition-non... ​

    ♦️DÉFI « 100.000 VOTES POUR TOUT ROUVRIR » :






    #SoulévementMondial#Espoir#Résistance (...)

  • #Désintégration - Journal d’un conseiller à Matignon

    Pendant dix-huit mois, #Matthieu_Angotti a travaillé aux côtés du Premier ministre Jean-Marc Ayrault, et c’est ce qu’il raconte ici, dans un récit percutant qui tente le pari fou de nous mettre dans la peau d’un #conseiller_politique.« Le jour de mon entrée au cabinet du Premier ministre, j’ai commencé à prendre des notes, le temps que durerait l’aventure. Les voici mises en images, dessinant le quotidien d’un #conseiller, avec ses hauts et ses bas, ses #espoirs, ses #découragements, sa #solitude parfois... Ce livre raconte la #réforme manquée de la #politique_d'intégration, comme une lucarne sur les rouages du sommet de l’état, du côté de ses discrets artisans... »

    #BD #bande_dessinée #livre
    #plan_de_lutte_contre_la_pauvreté #François_Hollande #Jean-Marc_Ayrault #pauvreté #intégration #étrangers #Thierry_Tuot #rapport_Tuot #France

    ping @isskein @karine4

  • Florian Philippot et Olivier Delamarche ! (Frexit, Covid, Euro, Macron, Militaires,...)

    Delamarche, Philippot, ça promet d’être un grand moment...

    Bon visionnage ; )))



    http://les-patriotes.fr/jadhere​ 🇫🇷

    (Pour rappel, Les Patriotes, nouvelle formation politique, ne bénéficient d’AUCUN soutien financier public ni d’aucun soutien bancaire. Ils vivent exclusivement des adhérents et donateurs.)




    https://les-patriotes.fr/petition-non... ​

    ♦️DÉFI « 100.000 VOTES POUR TOUT ROUVRIR » :






    #SoulévementMondial#Espoir#Résistance (...)

  • Passeport Sanitaire : cette résistance qui monte !

    Bon je voie qu’on est du même avis, encore une fois c’est de l’anticipation et du bon sens.


    http://les-patriotes.fr/jadhere​ 🇫🇷

    (Pour rappel, Les Patriotes, nouvelle formation politique, ne bénéficient d’AUCUN soutien financier public ni d’aucun soutien bancaire. Ils vivent exclusivement des adhérents et donateurs.)




    https://les-patriotes.fr/petition-non... ​

    ♦️DÉFI « 100.000 VOTES POUR TOUT ROUVRIR » :






    #SoulévementMondial#Espoir​ (...)

  • Des hommes

    25 jours en immersion dans la prison des #Baumettes. 30 000 mètres carrés et 2 000 détenus dont la moitié n’a pas 30 ans.
    Une prison qui raconte les destins brisés, les #espoirs, la violence, la #justice et les #injustices de la vie. C’est une histoire avec ses cris et ses silences, un concentré d’humanité, leurs yeux dans les nôtres.

    #prisons #emprisonnement #enfermement #France #violence #décès #morts
    #film #film_documentaire #documentaire

  • La Coordination des collectifs de solidarité avec #Pınar_Selek 2000 - 2021

    2000 ........ 2020 ........
    Chère Pınar,
    Il y 20 ans, tu sortais enfin de prison, après deux ans d’enfermement et de tortures.
    20 ans plus tard, la géopolitique de la Turquie est bouleversée...
    Mais ton procès et les menaces contre toi continuent.
    Toi, tu continues tes luttes, comme tu l’avais promis en sortant de prison.
    Nous, nous continuons à tes cotés.
    Merci à toutes les personnalités qui ont accepté de joindre leur voix à la nôtre dans ce film pour te le dire.

    La Coordination des collectifs de solidarité avec Pınar Selek.


    #Pinar_Selek #procès #droit_à_la_vie #torture #Turquie #prison #emprisonnement #lutte #témoignage #solidarité #solidarité_internationale #justice (!) #résistance #haine #arbitraire #arbitraire_du_pouvoir #répression_judiciaire #expliquer_c'est_excuser #terrorisme #Etat_de_droit #minorités #kurdes #islamisme #déradicalisation #évangélisation_de_l'islamisme #AKP #armée #processus_du_28_février #re-radicalisation #complotisme #conspirationnisme #nationalisme_turc #étatisation #Erdogan #stock_cognitif #amis_de_2071 #ennemis_de_2071 #2071 #pétitions #espoir
    #film #film_documentaire

    ping @isskein @cede @karine4

    • Pinar Selek et la faillite de l’état de droit en Turquie

      Plus de vingt ans ont passé depuis sa sortie de prison. Pinar Selek, toujours menacée d’une condamnation à perpétuité par le pouvoir turc, poursuit ses luttes en France et en Europe. Un film témoigne aujourd’hui des multiples combats de l’écrivaine et sociologue. L’histoire de Pinar Selek est devenue une part de l’Histoire de la Turquie. Et de la nôtre.

      La Coordination des collectifs de solidarité avec Pinar Selek (https://blogs.mediapart.fr/pascal-maillard/blog/160917/la-coordination-des-collectifs-de-solidarite-avec-pinar-selek-est-ne) diffuse un petit film sur l’écrivaine et sociologue. Ce film est important. Ute Müller en est la réalisatrice. Le film s’ouvre par les phrases fortes de l’écrivaine et journaliste Karin Karakasli : « Vous ne pouvez pas vous empêcher de répéter le nom de la personne que vous aimez comme un mantra », dit-elle. L’amie de Pinar la nomme ainsi : « la personne qui est mon honneur, ma fierté et mon bonheur ». Elle définit le procès de Pinar Selek de manière cinglante et précise : « Une violation du droit à la vie, un meurtre légal et une torture psychologique ». Tout est dit par la bouche de Karin Karakasli, qui prend soin de rappeler les faits de cette persécution invraisemblable.

      L’économiste et politologue Ahmet Insel souligne ensuite à quel point l’histoire de Pinar Selek est exemplaire de « l’arbitraire du pouvoir exercé par une répression judiciaire » et de « la faillite de d’état de droit en Turquie ». S’il rappelle que Pinar a été condamnée au moyen de preuves totalement inventées, c’est aussi pour observer une évolution de la répression politique en Turquie : le pouvoir accuse désormais ses opposants de terrorisme et les enferme sans avoir besoin de la moindre preuve. Suivent cinq autres témoignages et analyses, qu’il faut écouter attentivement, tous aussi importants les uns que les autres : celui de Umit Metin, Coordinateur général de l’ACORT (Assemblée Citoyenne des Originaires de Turquie), ceux de l’historien Hamit Bozarslan et du juriste Yériché Gorizian, celui de la journaliste Naz Oke et enfin les propos de Stéphanie, membre du Collectif de solidarité de la ville de Lyon.

      Parmi tous ces témoignages, il y a une phrase de Karin Karakasli qui résonne très fort et restera dans nos mémoires : « Vivre dans une Turquie où Pinar ne peut revenir, ne diffère pas d’une condamnation à vivre dans une prison en plein air ». Il faut en finir avec les prisons de pierre et les prisons en plein air. Pinar Selek, qui tient un blog sur Mediapart, invente des cerfs-volants qui traversent les frontières. Un jour les membres de ses collectifs de solidarité feront avec elle le voyage jusqu’à La Maison du Bosphore, où ils retrouveront Rafi, le joueur de Doudouk, cet instrument qui symbolise dans le roman de l’écrivaine la fraternité entre les kurdes, les arméniens et les turcs.

      Pascal Maillard,

      Membre de la Coordination des collectifs de solidarité


  • Passeport Sanitaire : où en sommes-nous vraiment ?


    http://les-patriotes.fr/jadhere​ 🇫🇷

    (Pour rappel, Les Patriotes, nouvelle formation politique, ne bénéficient d’AUCUN soutien financier public ni d’aucun soutien bancaire. Ils vivent exclusivement des adhérents et donateurs.)



    ♦️DÉFI « 100 000 VOTES POUR TOUT ROUVRIR » :







    Source : Youtube.com

    Information complémentaire :

    Crashdebug.fr : La Capsule #37 - On ferme ! (La Croix du (...)

  • La république de #Saillans

    Printemps 2019. Dans la salle du Conseil municipal de Saillans, les habitants reviennent sur leur expérience politique, sur les forces et les failles de la « #République_de_Saillans ». Cette dernière a vu le jour en 2014 avec l’élection d’une #liste_citoyenne proposant un partage du pouvoir entre les élus et les habitants.
    Alors que les futures élections approchent, l’#épuisement et la #déception pointent chez les uns et les autres. L’#espoir suscité était pourtant immense. Que s’est-il passé ? Cette #expérimentation sera-t-elle défendue par les habitants ?


    #film #documentaire #film_documentaire #néo-municipalisme #municipalisme


    ajouté au fil de discussion sur le néo-municipalisme :

  • Incroyable : 50 pays se lèvent pour la Liberté !

    Florian Philippot revient sur l’info du week-end, en France aussi, mobilisez-vous dans le réel !


    http://les-patriotes.fr/jadhere​ 🇫🇷

    (Pour rappel, Les Patriotes, nouvelle formation politique, ne bénéficient d’AUCUN soutien financier public ni d’aucun soutien bancaire. Ils vivent exclusivement des adhérents et donateurs.)



    ♦️DÉFI « 100 000 VOTES POUR TOUR ROUVRIR » :







    Source : Youtube.com

    Informations complémentaires :

    Crashdebug.fr : Des (...)

    • À Marseille, un McDonald’s est devenu un foyer vibrant de solidarité

      Dans les quartiers nord de Marseille, des salariés et leurs soutiens ont réquisitionné un McDonald’s en liquidation judiciaire. Près d’un an plus tard, L’Après M est devenu une fourmilière de projets solidaires. Et bientôt un fast-food bio, sain et à petits prix ?

      C’est un joli restaurant peinturluré de rose, de mauve et de bleu. L’établissement, ceint par un rond-point, une départementale, et de grands ensembles, colore le décor urbain. Des articles de Libération, Forbes ou encore la Marseillaise sont collés sur ses baies vitrées : son histoire a fait le tour du monde. Sur sa façade, les lettres blanches et jaunes de « McDonald’s » ont été découpées et transformées en « L’Après M ». Signe qu’à Saint-Barthélémy, dans le 14e arrondissement de Marseille, le temps de la multinationale est révolu. « Ici, on ne vend plus de Big Mac et on n’essore plus les salariés, mais on tend la main », dit Kamel Guémari, salarié et syndicaliste du McDo.

      Dans les quartiers nord, où le taux de pauvreté dépassait déjà les 40 % avant la pandémie de Covid-19, l’ancien McDonald’s de Saint-Barthélémy s’est mué en restaurant solidaire, pour aider les familles démunies à survivre malgré la crise. En quelques semaines, les bénévoles de « L’Après-M » sont parvenus à collecter suffisamment de denrées et de produits d’hygiène pour distribuer gratuitement 3.500 colis par semaine, et nourrir près de 14.000 personnes. Le tout grâce à des fonds issus de dons, à des cagettes données par des paysans, et au concours d’une cinquantaine d’associations. « Sans un euro d’argent public », précise Salim Grabsi. Les habitants et les ex-salariés de la chaîne de fast-food souhaitent créer des emplois et proposer des burgers bios et sains, « 100 % produits dans les quartiers nord » et accessibles aux plus pauvres.

      L’aventure a commencé au début du premier confinement, en mars 2020. « La population des quartiers nord a encaissé de plein fouet les mesures de restriction, se souvient Salim Grabsi, l’un des fondateurs de L’Après M. Les gens ont perdu une partie de leurs revenus et, pour peu qu’ils aient un travail informel, ils n’ont reçu aucune aide. Avec la fermeture des cantines scolaires, c’est devenu intenable pour les familles. »

      Le restaurant avait été placé en liquidation judiciaire car jugé non rentable par McDonald’s

      « Laisser des milliers de personnes dans la faim, c’était insupportable, alors on s’est bougés », dit Kamel Guémari. Face à l’urgence, les ex-salariés du McDonald’s et leurs soutiens ont réquisitionné le restaurant. Celui-ci avait été placé en liquidation judiciaire en décembre 2019, car jugé non rentable par McDonald’s France et son franchisé, qui ont tout fait pour le fermer. « Cette faillite était organisée, nous étions jugés trop vindicatifs, estime Kamel Guémari. Ils ne voulaient plus de nous ? Alors on a fait sans eux. J’ai enrichi McDonald’s en travaillant dans ce restaurant. Les habitants du quartier ont enrichi McDonald’s en consommant. Ce restaurant est maintenant à nous, au service de la population. » Concrètement, les Marseillais peuvent venir chercher leurs colis directement au McDo, via le drive, ou être livrés près de chez eux. Chaque quartier de la ville reçoit une livraison par semaine, coordonnée par un référent. « Au milieu de la débâcle, la mobilisation est exceptionnelle, les habitants se serrent les coudes », se réjouit Salim Grabsi.

      Quelques jours après le début du premier confinement, Sabrina, quarante ans et « maman solo avec deux enfants », se souvient d’être restée « un bon moment sur le parking du McDonald’s avant de descendre de la voiture ». Son entreprise de cosmétique se « cassait la gueule » et ses revenus sont passés de « 2.500 euros à 500 euros ». « J’avais de l’appréhension à ouvrir mon frigo, j’étais en mode survie. Un jour, la situation est devenue critique, alors je n’ai pas eu le choix... Seule, je n’aurais pas poussé la porte de L’Après-M. J’avais honte. Mais je ne pouvais pas laisser mes enfants sans manger. »

      « Ici, on ne m’a pas demandé de justificatif pour savoir si j’étais assez pauvre pour mériter un colis », a-t-elle apprécié. Un accueil « inconditionnel » revendiqué par les bénévoles. « On sait ce que c’est que la faim, dit Salim Grabsi. Il faut du courage pour traverser le quartier et venir ici. On ne va pas demander, en plus, des papiers... » Une fois la faim assouvie, Sabrina n’a jamais quitté l’ancien fast-food. Elle a repris confiance et espoir en donnant, à son tour, de son temps pour les autres. « Ce lieu est ma bouffée d’oxygène, je renais de mes cendres, sourit-elle. Si je ne viens pas pendant plusieurs jours, je ne me sens pas complète. »

      Une fois passée la première vague de Covid-19, le bateau de sauvetage des quartiers nord est devenu un fringuant voilier de solidarité, propulsé par les nombreuses dynamiques citoyennes qui s’y entrecroisent : on peut tomber nez-à-nez avec des Gilets jaunes, des supporters de l’Olympique de Marseille, des militants écologistes, des personnels de santé, des associations d’aide aux exilés ou aux SDF... « Seul on va vite, ensemble on va loin », est-il écrit sur la charte collée à l’entrée du restaurant.

      Plusieurs associations ont éclos entre ses murs. L’une d’elle, Le sel de la vie, assure des cours de soutien et des fournitures scolaires à près de trois cents enfants. « Pendant le premier confinement, on a assisté à un véritable crash scolaire », déplore Salim Grabsi, membre fondateur de l’association. Une centaine d’enseignants tentent de réparer les dégâts. Le sel de la vie propose aussi des sorties familiales en mer, des colonies de vacances et même un tournoi de water-polo. Salim Grabsi résume :

      On a réussi à faire du temple de la malbouffe et de la souffrance au travail un creuset dans lequel se mélangent des intelligences et des compétences éducatives, solidaires, écologiques, sportives... On n’a peut-être pas un bac +8, mais nos forces sont vives. »

      Les bénévoles veulent pérenniser ce qui est devenu, au fil des mois, la plaque tournante de l’entraide à Marseille. Pour cela, ils souhaitent poursuivre leur travail associatif, de soutien scolaire par exemple, tout en transformant les distributions de colis alimentaires en vente de burgers accessibles. Le samedi 19 décembre 2020, des milliers de personnes, dont l’ancien député européen José Bové, connu pour avoir démonté le McDonald’s de Millau (Aveyron) en 1999, se sont réunies pour le lancement symbolique du fast-food social. À cette occasion, plus de huit cents burgers bios, conçus par des restaurateurs locaux, ont été offerts aux habitants du quartier.

      « Il règne une misère insupportable dans ces quartiers. On veut offrir un autre horizon aux jeunes »

      Pour que le fast-food social et bio voit le jour, il reste à convaincre McDonald’s de céder les murs du restaurant, qui lui appartiennent toujours. Problème, « McDo refuse de discuter directement avec nous », dit Fathi Bouaroua. Le mercredi 20 janvier, les artisans de L’Après M ont tout de même reçu une visite prometteuse. Le nouveau maire de Marseille, Benoît Payan (PS), est venu leur apporter son soutien. « La municipalité s’est engagée à nos côtés et a prévu de faire appel à des dispositifs législatifs pour racheter le local », se réjouit Fathi.

      Reporterre a contacté à plusieurs reprises la ville de Marseille et McDonald’s France, qui n’ont pas donné suite à nos demandes d’entretien.

      Une fois l’établissement racheté, les occupants du restaurant veulent créer une entreprise qui bénéficierait aux habitants des quartiers nord, sous la forme d’une société coopérative d’intérêt collectif (Scic), qui appartiendrait aux futurs salariés, aux clients du restaurant, aux associations et aux contributeurs qui financeraient les investissements. « On est nés dans ces quartiers, où il règne une misère insupportable, raconte Fathi Bouaroua, président de l’association Après McDo, chapeau sur la tête. Nous entendons offrir un autre horizon aux jeunes, qui pour l’instant ne se voient proposer que trois métiers : la "chouf" [désigne le guetteur chargé de surveiller l’arrivée de la police lors de vente de drogue organisée], la prostitution et le chômage. »

      Les jeunes et les personnes en réinsertion, notamment après un séjour en prison, sont au cœur du projet. « On veut prendre au mot le slogan "Venez comme vous êtes" », poursuit Kamel Guemari. On traverse la rue pour créer nos emplois dans le monde d’Après [l’acronyme signifie Association de préfiguration pour un établissement ­économique et social]. L’ADN de ce restaurant, ce sera de recruter des gens cabossés par la vie. »

      D’anciens salariés, licenciés par McDonald’s, ont d’ores et déjà accepté de les encadrer. Comme Nour, qui a travaillé dans tous les McDonald’s de Marseille pendant près de vingt ans : « J’étais sans cesse déplacé, voire mis à pied, parce que je refusais de faire la "hagra" [la misère] aux salariés que j’encadrais. Le jour où le projet se concrétisera, je serai prêt à jouer mon rôle, à montrer qu’on peut encadrer différemment, en laissant plus d’autonomie aux salariés et en leur accordant plus de confiance. »

      Les burgers seront vendus à un prix variable selon les ressources de chacune et chacun, « parce qu’il est hors de question que dans la sixième puissance mondiale, des personnes vivent avec le ventre creux, dit Kamel Guemari, parfois surnommé « l’Abbé Kamel » par ses camarades. Quand le ventre est vide, on ne peut pas réfléchir, on avance pas. Personne ne doit rester à la porte du resto. Un « Uber solidaire » est même prévu pour distribuer des sandwichs gratuitement aux SDF.

      Ces burgers seront bios « parce que ce n’est pas parce qu’on est pauvres qu’on ne doit pas manger des produits sains », tonne Yazid Bendaïf, un habitant de la cité SNCF située à quelques centaines de mètres de L’Après-M. Cet homme de 61 ans, ancien peintre en bâtiment et dans l’automobile et cofondateur de l’association Le sel de la terre, l’une des dernières pousses de L’Après M, se définit comme un « touche à tout ». Il détaille :

      L’idée est de récupérer un maximum de terres pour les transformer en jardins nourriciers, cultivés et récoltés par des gens en réinsertion, pour approvisionner le fast-food en produits locaux. »

      C’est peu dire que ce projet repose entre de bonnes mains. Celles de Yazid Bendaïf et de sa femme, Samia, sont bien vertes. Dans leur cité, ils cultivent deux petits jardins. L’un est au pied de leur immeuble, et l’autre près du terrain de boules. « Depuis quatre ans, grâce à ces petites parcelles, nous sommes autosuffisants en légumes », affirme Yazid, une lueur de fierté dans le regard. Le couple prépare son terreau « dans la cave » et « tout ce que nous plantons part de la graine ou de boutures ». Le balcon des Bendaïf est rempli de pots de terre. « C’est notre petit laboratoire », sourit Samia.

      Dans leurs jardins poussent des oignons, des petits pois, des fèves, des plantes aromatiques et même des citrouilles, suspendues. Yazid a aussi planté des pommiers, des cerisiers et des avocatiers, qu’il prépare « pour les dispatcher dans la cité » et « casser le bitume, partout où c’est possible, pour multiplier les jardins nourriciers ». Avec ses compagnons du Sel de la terre, il lorgne sur un terrain de six hectares, à quelques encablures du McDonald’s. Les espaces verts qui bordent le restaurant pourraient aussi être prochainement cultivés. « J’aimerais que les enfants des quartiers nord sachent ce qu’ils mangent, que leurs légumes et leurs fruits aient du goût », glisse Yazid, une main dans sa barbe.

      En attendant que le fast-food voit le jour, et malgré l’engagement des bénévoles, la crise sanitaire se prolonge et la détresse sociale et psychologique s’accroît sévèrement. « La situation est explosive, prévient Karima Djelat, membre de l’association Rebondir 13. Plus les lundis passent, plus nous recevons de familles. Je crains qu’un jour, notre volonté ne suffise plus à faire le tampon. »

      Un soir de janvier, alors que le mistral soufflait et que les températures ne dépassaient pas les 2 °C, Reporterre a suivi la Maraude du cœur, qui a distribué sur le parvis de la gare Saint-Charles des berkoukes aux légumes, un plat algérien cuisiné par la bénévole Farida, dans les cuisines de L’Après M. Une quarantaine de personnes faisaient la queue, dont des familles avec enfant. « On ne s’attendait pas à autant de monde », déplore Samia.
      La prochaine bombe, « c’est la fin de la trêve hivernale, le 31 mars »

      Leïa, 14 ans, a été missionnée par sa grande sœur pour récupérer un dernier morceau de pain. « Ça fait mal au cœur d’en arriver là, souffle la collégienne. Nous sommes sans-papiers, alors nous n’avons pas grand-chose pour survivre. Grâce à ces repas, je peux au moins me concentrer sur mes cours et rêver de jours meilleurs. » La prochaine bombe, « c’est la fin de la trêve hivernale, le 31 mars, prévient Fathi Bouaroua. On risque de se retrouver, en plus des crises sanitaires et alimentaires, avec une crise du toit. Un triptyque d’urgence sociale. » Pour Didier, adossé à un réverbère, elle est déjà là : c’est bien simple, il n’a « jamais vu » autant de personnes sans toit. « Je vis pourtant dans les rues de Marseille depuis 1975 », dit-il.

      « Tout n’est pas la faute du Covid, tempête Mohamed, 45 ans, livreur de journaux et bénévole à L’Après M. La précarité ici n’est pas une nouveauté, elle résulte de choix politiques. La première des violences, ce n’est pas la crise sanitaire, ce sont les décisions de ceux qui nous gouvernent et leur mépris. » Cet homme est né dans un camp de transit, où il a vécu pendant vingt ans. « Je suis un grand déçu de l’idéal "liberté, égalité, fraternité", dit-il. Ces mots ont pourtant du sens, mais je ne les vois pas, ni de près, ni de loin. L’Après M, c’est aussi une manière de leur redonner de l’éclat. D’affirmer que désormais, on se prendra en charge nous-mêmes. »


  • EU policy ‘worsening’ mental health for refugees on Greek islands

    New research says more asylum-seekers stranded in EU’s ‘hotspot’ centres experiencing severe mental health symptoms.

    A prominent humanitarian group has warned of a worsening mental health crisis among asylum-seekers trapped at refugee camps on three Greek islands, saying its research reveals severe symptoms among people of all ages and backgrounds, including depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and self-harm.

    The International Rescue Committee (IRC), in a new report (https://www.rescue-uk.org/courage-to-continue) on Thursday, said nearly 15,000 people remain stranded at the European-Union funded Reception and Identification Centres, camps known as “hotspots” that were set up on Europe’s borders almost five years ago to swiftly process applications for asylum.

    Citing data collected from 904 asylum-seekers supported by its mental health programmes on the islands of Lesbos, Chios and Samos, the IRC said one in three of its clients reported suicidal thoughts, while one in five reported having made attempts to take their lives.

    “I even tried to hang myself but my son saw me and called my husband,” Fariba, a 32-year-old Afghan woman, was quoted as saying. The mother of two young children lives in the Vathy camp in the island of Samos.

    “I think about death a lot here: that it would be a good thing for the whole family, that if I could add a medicine in our food and we all died it would be a deliverance. But then I look at my daughter and I think it is not her time yet,” she said.

    The hotspot centres were established up in 2015, when the Aegean islands, especially Lesbos, came under enormous pressure, with nearly a million refugees and migrants trying to reach Europe arriving on the Greek islands.

    In January of this year, the five camps together hosted more than 38,600 asylum-seekers – a number six times higher than the hotspots’ capacity. The number had reduced significantly by November, yet, asylum seekers still live under “inhumane” conditions and “in great distress, with limited access to food, water and sanitation,” read the report.
    ‘Alarming spike’

    On Lesbos, thousands of people live in a temporary camp after a fire burned down their overcrowded facility known as the Moria refugee camp. With winter in full swing, many people now live in tents battered by winds and flooding, the report said, adding an even deeper sense of exhaustion and frustration. On Sunday, the camp of Kara Tepe in Lesbos – where more than 7,000 people live – was flooded for the third time after three days of rain amid stormy weather conditions.

    Mohammad, a 23-year-old Syrian asylum seeker who fled the city of Idlib in 2019, told Al Jazeera how he is affected by depression and sleeping disorders.

    “How could my mental health not be affected? When you wake up and find a rat on your chest, when you are constantly waiting [for your legal status to proceed], when rain is pouring into your tent for days, you have no toilet but just garbage around you?” he said, asking his surname to be withheld as his second attempt to gain residency is under way.

    This is the second winter Mohammad has spent in a self-made wooden hut in what is known as “the jungle” in the island of Samos. The 600-people capacity camp, located on a hill, comprises of tents made out of recycled material and houses more than 3,000 people.

    Mohammad said there were high level of distress and constant fear of possible violent escalations among the residents of the camp. “We need some sort of improvement as it is getting difficult to control the anger,” he said.

    The coronavirus pandemic and the strict restrictions on movement has inflicted further blows.

    The IRC reported an “alarming spike” in the number of people disclosing psychotic symptoms following the pandemic, jumping from one in seven to almost one in four. There was also a sharp rise in people reporting self-harm, which jumped by 66 percent, as well as a surge in those reporting symptoms of PTSD, which climbed from close to half of clients beforehand to almost two in three people.

    These severe symptoms of mental health negatively affect people’s ability to cope with the many challenges they face at the hotspot centres, such as standing in line for hours to get food, or successfully navigate the complex asylum process, the report said.
    ‘Trauma of hotspot centres’

    “Such stressful situation triggers a sort of re-traumatisation,” said Essam Daod, a psychiatric and mental health director of Humanity Crew, an NGO providing first response mental health interventions to refugees in Samos.

    “You left home because you felt hopeless, unsafe and with a massive distrust with the system. You reached Europe and you start to stabilise your mood, but then COVID-19 destroyed all of this triggering the same feeling they had when they were fleeing their own country,” he said.

    IRC found that mental health issues can also cause high levels of stigma and discrimination, while increasing vulnerability to exploitation or violence, including sexual violence.

    Children are also bearing the brunt of the the worsening crisis.

    “When parents break down, it has a major impact on children,” said Thanasis Chirvatidis, a psychologist with Doctors Without Borders who has been working in Lesbos since August.

    Children perceive parents who experience psychological collapse as being unable to protect them, said Chirvatidis. The result is an increasing number of children are developing symptoms such as hopeless, insomnia, night terrors and regression symptoms as they go backwards at an earlier mental state where they had better memories and felt safer.

    All of the people in the hotspot centres – adult and children alike – “even those who had a sense of normalcy in their life before, at this point will need support in the future for sorting what they are going through here, which has now become a trauma itself,” said Chirvatidis.


    #Moria #santé_mentale #asile #migrations #réfugiés #îles #Lesbos #Mer_Egée #Grèce #traumatisme #trauma #hotspots #rapport

    ping @_kg_

    • Thousands of refugees in mental health crisis after years on Greek islands

      One in three on Aegean isles have contemplated suicide amid EU containment policies, report reveals

      Years of entrapment on Aegean islands has resulted in a mental health crisis for thousands of refugees, with one in three contemplating suicide, a report compiled by psychosocial support experts has revealed.

      Containment policies pursued by the EU have also spurred ever more people to attempt to end their lives, according to the report released by the International Rescue Committee (IRC) on Thursday.

      “Research reveals consistent accounts of severe mental health conditions,” says the report, citing data collated over the past two and a half years on Lesbos, Samos and Chios.

      Depression, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and self-harm “among people of all ages and backgrounds” have emerged as byproducts of the hopelessness and despair on Europe’s eastern borderlands, it says.

      “As many as three out of four of the people the IRC has assisted through its mental health programme on the three islands reported experiencing symptoms such as sleeping problems, depression and anxiety,” its authors wrote.

      “One in three reported suicidal thoughts, while one in five reported having made attempts to take their lives.”

      In a year upended by coronavirus and disastrous fires on Lesbos – about 13,000 asylum seekers were temporarily displaced after the destruction of Moria, the island’s infamous holding centre – psychologists concluded that the humanitarian situation on the outposts had worsened considerably.

      The mental health toll had been aggravated by lockdown measures that had kept men, women and children confined to facilities for much of 2020, they said.

      Previously, residents in Moria, Europe’s biggest refugee camp before its destruction, had participated in football games outside the facility and other group activities.

      Noting that the restrictions were stricter for refugees and migrants than those applied elsewhere in Greece, IRC support teams found a marked deterioration in the mental wellbeing of people in the camps since rolling lockdowns were enforced in March.

      “Research demonstrates how the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic further exacerbated the suffering of already vulnerable asylum seekers and exposed the many flaws in Europe’s asylum and reception system,” the report says.

      Over the year there has been a rise in the proportion of people disclosing psychotic symptoms, from one in seven to one in four. Disclosures of self-harm have increased by 66%.

      The IRC, founded by Albert Einstein in 1933 and now led by the former British foreign secretary David Miliband, said the findings offered more evidence of the persistent political and policy failures at Greek and EU level.

      Five years after authorities scrambled to establish reception and identification centres, or hotspots, on the frontline isles at the start of the refugee crisis, about 15,000 men, women and children remain stranded in the installations.

      Describing conditions in the camps as dangerous and inhumane, the IRC said residents were still denied access to sufficient water, sanitation, shelter and vital services such as healthcare, education and legal assistance to process asylum claims.

      On Lesbos, the island most often targeted by traffickers working along the Turkish coast, government figures this week showed an estimated 7,319 men, women and children registered in a temporary camp erected in response to an emergency that has been blamed on arsonists.

      Three months after the fires, more than 5,000 people have been transferred to the mainland, according to Greek authorities.

      Of that number, more than 800 were relocated to the EU, including 523 children who had made the journey to Europe alone and were also held in Moria.

      Many had hoped the new camp would be a vast improvement on Moria, whose appalling conditions and severe overcrowding earned it global notoriety as a humanitarian disaster.

      But the new facility, located on a former firing range within metres of the sea, has drawn condemnation from locals and NGOs.

      “The winds hit it, the rains hit it and there’s no shade, which is why this place is unsuitable for any camp to be,” the island’s mayor, Stratis Kitilis, said.

      “It’s right next door to all the warehouses, transport companies and supermarkets that keep Lesbos going. No one wants it there.”

      This month the EU announced it was working with Athens’ centre-right administration to replace the installation with a modern structure that will open next September. New reception and identification centres will also be built on Samos, Kos and Lesbos. “They say it’ll be nothing like Moria and will be more of a transfer stop, but late next year is a very long time,” said Kitilis.

      Kiki Michailidou, the psychologist in charge of the IRC’s psychosocial support programmes on Lesbos, agreed that the conditions were far from dignified.

      As winter approached, camp residents were resorting to ever more desperate measures to keep warm, she said, while also being forced to stand in long queues for food and communal toilets.

      With camp managers moving families into giant tents, social distancing remains elusive. “A lot of people fear the unknown again,” Michailidou said.

      “Moria was terrible but it was also a familiar place, somewhere they called their home. After the fires they lost their point of reference and that has had a significant impact on their mental health too.”

      The IRC report calls for European policymakers to learn from past failings. While the EU’s new pact on asylum and migration is a step in the right direction, it says, it still falls short of the bloc managing migration in a humane and effective way.

      Echoing that sentiment, Michailidou said: “After the fires we saw what could happen. There were transfers to the mainland and children were relocated to other parts of Europe. That’s proof that where there’s political will and coordinated action, the lives of people in these camps can be transformed.”


  • The Frontier Within: The European Border Regime in the Balkans

    In the summer of 2015, the migratory route across the Balkans »entered into the European spotlight, and indeed onto the screen of the global public« (Kasparek 2016: 2), triggering different interpretations and responses. Contrary to the widespread framing of the mass movement of people seeking refuge in Europe as ›crisis‹ and ›emergency‹ of unseen proportions, we opt for the perspective of »the long Summer of Migration« (Kasparek/Speer 2015) and an interpretation that regards it as »a historic and monumental year of migration for Europe precisely because disobedient mass mobilities have disrupted the European regime of border control« (Stierl/Heller/de Genova 2016: 23). In reaction to the disobedient mass mobilities of people, a state-tolerated and even state-organized transit of people, a »formalized corridor« (Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016), was gradually established. To avoid the concentration of unwanted migrants on their territory, countries along the route—sometimes in consultation with their neighboring countries and EU member states, sometimes simply by creating facts—strived to regain control over the movements by channeling and isolating them by means of the corridor (see e.g. Hameršak/Pleše 2018; Speer 2017; Tošić 2017). »Migrants didn’t travel the route any more: they were hurriedly channeled along, no longer having the power to either determine their own movement or their own speed« (Kasparek 2016). The corridor, at the same time, facilitated and tamed the movement of people. In comparison to the situation in Serbia, where migrants were loosely directed to follow the path of the corridor (see e.g. Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016; Greenberg/Spasić 2017; Kasparek 2016: 6), migrants in other states like North Macedonia, Croatia, and Slovenia were literally in the corridor’s power, i.e. forced to follow the corridor (see Hameršak/Pleše 2018; Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016; Chudoska Blazhevska/Flores Juberías 2016: 231–232; Kogovšek Šalamon 2016: 44–47; Petrović 2018). The corridor was operative in different and constantly changing modalities until March 2016. Since then, migration through the Balkan region still takes place, with migrants struggling on a daily basis with the diverse means of tightened border controls that all states along the Balkan route have been practicing since.

    This movements issue wants to look back on these events in an attempt to analytically make sense of them and to reflect on the historical rupture of the months of 2015 and 2016. At the same time, it tries to analyze the ongoing developments of bordering policies and the struggles of migration. It assembles a broad range of articles reaching from analytical or research based papers shedding light on various regional settings and topics, such as the massive involvement of humanitarian actors or the role of camp infrastructures, to more activist-led articles reflecting on the different phases and settings of pro-migrant struggles and transnational solidarity practices. In an attempt to better understand the post-2015 border regime, the issue furthermore presents analyses of varying political technologies of bordering that evolved along the route in response to the mass mobilities of 2015/2016. It especially focuses on the excessive use of different dimensions of violence that seem to characterize the new modalities of the border regime, such as the omnipresent practice of push-backs. Moreover, the articles shed light on the ongoing struggles of transit mobility and (transnational) solidarity that are specifically shaped by the more than eventful history of the region molded both by centuries of violent interventions and a history of connectivity.

    Our transnational editorial group came together in the course of a summer school on the border regime in the Balkans held in Belgrade, Serbia, in 2018. It was organized by the Network for Critical Migration and Border Regime Studies (kritnet), University of Göttingen, Department of Cultural Anthropology/European Ethnology (Germany), the Research Centre of the Academy of Sciences and Arts (Slovenia), the Institute of Ethnology and Folklore Research (Croatia), and the Institute of Ethnography SASA (Serbia). The summer school assembled engaged academics from all over the region that were involved, in one form or another, in migration struggles along the route in recent years.1 The few days of exchange proved to be an exciting and fruitful gathering of critical migration and border regime scholars and activists from different regional and disciplinary backgrounds of the wider Balkans. Therefore, we decided to produce this movements issue by inviting scholars and activists from the region or with a deep knowledge on, and experience with, regional histories and politics in order to share their analyses of the Balkan route, the formalized corridor, and the developments thereafter. These developments have left a deep imprint on the societies and regional politics of migration, but they are very rarely taken into consideration and studied in the West as the centuries long entanglements that connect the Balkan with the rest of Europe.

    In this editorial, we will outline the transnational mobility practices in the Balkans in a historical perspective that includes the framework of EU-Balkan relations. With this exercise we try to historize the events of 2015 which are portrayed in many academic as well as public accounts as ›unexpected‹ and ›new‹. We also intend to write against the emergency and escalation narrative underlying most public discourses on the Balkans and migration routes today, which is often embedded in old cultural stereotypes about the region. We, furthermore, write against the emergency narrative because it erodes the agency of migration that has not only connected the region with the rest of the globe but is also constantly reinventing new paths for reaching better lives. Not only the history of mobilities, migrations, and flight connecting the region with the rest of Europe and the Middle East can be traced back into the past, but also the history of political interventions and attempts to control these migrations and mobilities by western European states. Especially the EU accession processes produce contexts that made it possible to gradually integrate the (Western) Balkan states into the rationale of EU migration management, thus, setting the ground for today’s border and migration regime. However, as we will show in the following sections, we also argue against simplified understandings of the EU border regime that regard its externalization policy as an imperial top-down act. Rather, with a postcolonial perspective that calls for decentering western knowledge, we will also shed light on the agency of the national governments of the region and their own national(ist) agendas.
    The Formalized Corridor

    As outlined above, the formalized corridor of 2015 reached from Greece to Northern and Central Europe, leading across the states established in the 1990s during the violent breakdown of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and, today, are additionally stratified vis-à-vis the EU. Slovenia and Croatia are EU member states, while the others are still in the accession process. The candidate states Serbia, North Macedonia and Montenegro have opened the negotiation process. Bosnia and Herzegovina and Kosovo—still not recognized as a sovereign state by Serbia and some EU member states—have the status of potential candidates. However, in 2015 and 2016, the states along the corridor efficiently collaborated for months on a daily basis, while, at the same time, fostering separate, sometimes conflicting, migration politics. Slovenia, for example, raised a razor-wire fence along the border to Croatia, while Croatia externalized its border to Serbia with a bilateral agreement (Protokol) in 2015 which stated that the »Croatian Party« may send a »train composition with its crew to the railway station in Šid [in Serbia], with a sufficient number of police officers of the Republic of Croatia as escort« (Article 3 Paragraph 2).

    Despite ruptures and disputes, states nevertheless organized transit in the form of corridor consisting of trains, buses, and masses of walking people that were guarded and directed by the police who forced people on the move to follow the corridor’s direction and speed. The way the movements were speedily channeled in some countries came at the cost of depriving people of their liberty and freedom of movement, which calls for an understanding of the corridor as a specific form of detention: a mobile detention, ineligible to national or EU legislation (see Hameršak/Pleše 2018; Kogovšek Šalamon 2016: 44–47). In the context of the corridor, camps became convergence points for the heterogeneous pathways of movements. Nevertheless, having in mind both the proclaimed humanitarian purpose of the corridor, and the monumental numbers of people to whom the corridor enabled and facilitated movement, the corridor can be designated as an unprecedented formation in recent EU history. In other words: »The corridor – with all its restrictions – remains a historical event initiated by the movement of people, which enabled thousands to reach central Europe in a relatively quick and safe manner. […] But at the same time it remained inscribed within a violent migration management system« (Santer/Wriedt 2017: 148).

    For some time, a broad consensus can be observed within migration and border studies and among policy makers that understands migration control as much more than simply protecting a concrete borderline. Instead, concepts such as migration management (Oelgemoller 2017; Geiger/Pécoud 2010) and border externalization (as specifically spelled out in the EU document Global Approach to Migration of 2005) have become increasingly important. In a spatial sense, what many of them have in common is, first, that they assume an involvement of neighboring states to govern migration in line with EU migration policies. Second, it is often stated that this leads to the creation of different zones encircling the European Union (Andreas/Snyder 2000). Maribel Casas-Cortes and Sebastian Cobarrubias, for instance, speak of four such zones: the first zone is »formed by EU member states, capable of fulfilling Schengen standards«, the second zone »consists of transit countries« (Casas-Cortes/Cobarrubias 2019), the third zone is characterized by countries such as Turkey, which are depicted by emigration as well as transit, and the fourth zone are countries of origin. While Casas-Cortes and Cobarrubias rightly criticize the static and eurocentric perspective of such conceptualizations, they nevertheless point to the unique nature of the formalized corridor because it crisscrossed the above mentioned zones of mobility control in an unprecedented way.

    Furthermore, the corridor through the Balkans can be conceived as a special type of transnational, internalized border. The internalized European borders manifest themselves to a great extent in a punctiform (see Rahola 2011: 96–97). They are not only activated in formal settings of border-crossings, police stations, or detention centers both at state borders and deep within state territories, but also in informal settings of hospitals, hostels, in the streets, or when someone’s legal status is taken as a basis for denying access to rights and services (i.e. to obtain medical aid, accommodation, ride) (Guild 2001; Stojić Mitrović/Meh 2015). With the Balkan corridor, this punctiform of movement control was, for a short period, fused into a linear one (Hameršak/Pleše 2018).

    The rules of the corridor and its pathways were established by formal and informal agreements between the police and other state authorities, and the corridor itself was facilitated by governmental, humanitarian, and other institutions and agencies. Cooperation between the countries along the route was fostered by representatives of EU institutions and EU member states. It would be too simple, though, to describe their involvement of the countries along the route as merely reactive, as an almost mechanical response to EU and broader global policies. Some countries, in particular Serbia, regarded the increasing numbers of migrants entering their territory during the year 2015 as a window of opportunity for showing their ›good face‹ to the European Union by adopting ›European values‹ and, by doing so, for enhancing their accession process to the European Union (Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016; Greenberg/Spasić 2017). As Tošić points out, »this image was very convenient for Serbian politicians in framing their country as ›truly European‹, since it was keeping its borders open unlike some EU states (such as Hungary)« (2017: 160). Other states along the corridor also played by their own rules from time to time: Croatia, for example, contrary to the Eurodac Regulation (Regulation EU No 603/2013), avoided sharing registration data on people in transit and, thus, hampered the Dublin system that is dependent on Eurodac registration. Irregular bureaucracies and nonrecording, as Katerina Rozakou (2017) calls such practices in her analysis of bordering practices in the Greek context, became a place of dispute, negotiations, and frustrations, but also a clear sign of the complex relationships and different responses to migration within the European Union migration management politics itself.

    Within EU-member states, however, the longer the corridor lasted, and the more people passed through it, the stronger the ›Hungarian position‹ became. Finally, Austria became the driving force behind a process of gradually closing the corridor, which began in November 2015 and was fully implemented in March 2016. In parallel, Angela Merkel and the European Commission preferred another strategy that cut access to the formalized corridor and that was achieved by adopting a treaty with Turkey known as the »EU-Turkey deal« signed on 18 March 2016 (see Speer 2017: 49–68; Weber 2017: 30–40).

    The humanitarian aspect for the people on the move who were supposed to reach a safe place through the corridor was the guiding principle of public discourses in most of the countries along the corridor. In Serbia, »Prime Minister Aleksandar Vučić officially welcomed refugees, spoke of tolerance, and compared the experience of refugees fleeing war-torn countries to those of refugees during the wars of Yugoslav Succession« (Greenberg/Spasić 2017: 315). Similar narratives could also be observed in other countries along the corridor, at least for some period of time (see, for Slovenia, Sardelić 2017: 11; for Croatia, Jakešević 2017: 184; Bužinkić 2018: 153–154). Of course, critical readings could easily detect the discriminatory, dehumanizing, securitarizing, and criminalizing acts, practices, tropes, and aspects in many of these superficially caring narratives. The profiling or selection of people, ad hoc detentions, and militarization—which were integral parts of the corridor—were, at the time, only denounced by a few NGOs and independent activists. They were mostly ignored, or only temporarily acknowledged, by the media and, consequently, by the general public.

    Before May 2015, ›irregular‹ migration was not framed by a discourse of ›crisis‹ in the countries along the route, rather, the discourse was led by a focus on ›separate incidents‹ or ›situations‹. The discursive framing of ›crisis‹ and ›emergency‹, accompanied by reports of UN agencies about ›unprecedented refugee flows in history‹, has been globally adopted both by policy makers and the wider public. »In the wake of the Summer of Migration, all involved states along the Balkan route were quick to stage the events as an ›emergency‹ (Calhoun 2004) and, in best humanitarian fashion, as a major humanitarian ›crisis‹, thus legitimizing a ›politics of exception‹« (Hess/Kasparek 2017: 66). Following the logic that extraordinary situations call for, and justify, the use of extraordinary measures, the emergency framework, through the construction of existential threats, resulted, on the one hand, in a loosely controlled allocation of resources, and, on the other hand, in silencing many critical interpretations, thus allowing various ›risk management activities‹ to happen on the edge of the law (Campesi 2014). For the states along the route, the crisis label especially meant a rapid infusion of money and other resources for establishing infrastructures for the urgent reception of people on the move, mainly deriving from EU funds. Politically and practically, these humanitarian-control activities also fastened the operational inclusion of non-EU countries into the European border regime.

    As Sabine Hess and Bernd Kasparek have pointed out, the politics of proclaiming a ›crisis‹ is at the heart of re-stabilizing the European border regime, »making it possible to systematically undermine and lever the standards of international and European law without serious challenges to date« (Hess/Kasparek 2017: 66). The authors:

    »have observed carefully designed policy elements, which can be labelled as anti-litigation devices. The design of the Hungarian transit zones is a striking case in point. They are an elementary part of the border fence towards Serbia and allow for the fiction that the border has not been closed for those seeking international protection, but rather that their admission numbers are merely limited due to administrative reasons: each of the two transit zones allows for 14 asylum seekers to enter Hungary every day« (Hess/Kasparek 2017: 66; on the administrative rationale in Slovenia see e.g. Gombač 2016: 79–81).

    The establishment of transit zones was accompanied by a series of legislative tightenings, passed under a proclaimed ›crisis situation caused by mass immigration‹, which, from a legal point of view, lasts until today. Two aspects are worth mentioning in particular: First, the mandatory deportation of all unwanted migrants that were detected on Hungarian territory to the other side of the fence, without any possibility to claim for asylum or even to lodge any appeal against the return. Second, the automatic rejection of all asylum applications as inadmissible, even of those who managed to enter the transit zones, because Serbia had been declared a safe third country (Nagy/Pál 2018). This led to a completely securitized border regime in Hungary, which might become a ›role model‹, not only for the countries in the region but also for the European border regime as a whole (ECtHR – Ilias and Ahmed v. Hungary Application No. 47287/15).
    The Long Genealogy of the Balkan Route and its Governance

    The history of the Balkan region is a multiply layered history of transborder mobilities, migration, and flight reaching back as far as the times of the Habsburg and Ottoman empires connecting the region with the East and Western Europe in many ways. Central transportation and communication infrastructures partially also used by today’s migratory projects had already been established at the heydays of Western imperialism, as the Orient Express, the luxury train service connecting Paris with Istanbul (1883), or the Berlin-Baghdad railway (built between 1903 and 1940) indicate. During World War II, a different and reversed refugee route existed, which brought European refugees not just to Turkey but even further to refugee camps in Syria, Egypt, and Palestine and was operated by the Middle East Relief and Refugee Administration (MERRA).

    The Yugoslav highway, the Highway of Brotherhood and Unity (Autoput bratstva i jedinstva) often simply referred to as the ›autoput‹ and built in phases after the 1950s, came to stretch over more than 1,000 km from the Austrian to the Greek borders and was one of the central infrastructures enabling transnational mobilities, life projects, and exile. In the 1960s, direct trains departing from Istanbul and Athens carried thousands of prospective labor migrants to foreign places in Germany and Austria in the context of the fordist labor migration regime of the two countries. At the end of that decade, Germany signed a labor recruitment agreement with Yugoslavia, fostering and formalizing decades long labor migrations from Croatia, Serbia, and other countries to Germany (Gatrell 2019, see e.g. Lukić Krstanović 2019: 54–55).

    The wars in the 1990s that accompanied the dissolution of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, and the consequent establishment of several new nation states, created the first large refugee movement after the Second World War within Europe and was followed by increasing numbers of people fleeing Albania after the fall of its self-isolationist regime and the (civil) wars in the Middle East, Iraq, Turkey, Iran, and Afghanistan since the mid-1990s. As the migratory route did not go north through the Balkan Peninsula, but mainly proceeded to Italy at the time, the label Balkan route was mostly used as a name for a drugs and arms smuggling route well known in the West. Although there was migration within and to Europe, the Balkan migratory route, with the exception of refugee movements from ex-Yugoslavia, was yet predominantly invisible to the broader European public.

    Sparse ethnographic insights from the beginning of the 2000s point this out. Academic papers on migrant crossings from Turkey to the island of Lesbos mention as follows: »When the transport service began in the late 1980s it was very small and personal; then, in the middle of the 1990s, the Kurds began to show up – and now people arrive from just about everywhere« (Tsianos/Hess/Karakayali 2009: 3; see Tsianos/Karakayali 2010: 379). A document of the Council of the European Union from 1997 formulates this as following:

    »This migration appears to be routed essentially either through Turkey, and hence through Greece and Italy, or via the ›Balkans route‹, with the final countries of destination being in particular Germany, the Netherlands and Sweden. Several suggestions were put forward for dealing with this worrying problem, including the strengthening of checks at external borders, the stepping up of the campaign against illegal immigration networks, and pre-frontier assistance and training assignments in airports and ports in certain transit third countries, in full cooperation with the authorities in those countries« (ibid. quoted in Hess/Kasparek 2020).

    During this time, the EU migration management policies defined two main objectives: to prevent similar arrivals in the future, and to initiate a system of control over migration movements toward the EU that would be established outside the territories of the EU member states. This would later be formalized, first in the 2002 EU Action Plan on Illegal Immigration (see Hayes/Vermeulen 2012: 13–14) and later re-confirmed in the Global Approach to Migration (2005) framework concerning the cooperation of the EU with third states (Hess/Kasparek 2020). In this process, the so-called migratory routes-approach and accompanying strategies of controlling, containing, and taming the movement »through epistemology of the route« (Hess/Kasparek 2020) became a main rationale of the European border control regime. Thus, one can resume that the route was not only produced by movements of people but also by the logic, legislation, investment etc. of EU migration governance. Consequently, the clandestine pathways across the Balkans to Central and Western Europe were frequently addressed by security bodies and services of the EU (see e.g. Frontex 2011; Frontex 2014), resulting in the conceptual and practical production of the Balkan as an external border zone of the EU.

    Parallel to the creation of ›Schengenland‹, the birth of the ›Area of Freedom, Security and Justice‹ inter alia as an inner-EU-free-mobility-zone and EU-based European border and migration regime in the late 1990s, the EU created the Western Balkans as an imaginary political entity, an object of its neighborhood and enlargement policy, which lies just outside the EU with a potential ›European future‹. For the purpose of the Stabilization and Association Process (SAP) initiated in 1999, the term Western Balkan was launched in the EU political context in order to include, at that moment, ›ex-Yugoslav states minus Slovenia plus Albania‹ and to presumably avoid potential politically sensitive notions. The Western Balkans as a concept represents a combination of a political compromise and colonial imagery (see Petrović 2012: 21–36). Its aim was to stabilize the region through a radical redefinition that would restrain from ethno-national toponyms and to establish a free-trade area and growing partnership with the EU. The SAP set out common political and economic goals for the Western Balkan as a region and conducted political and economic progress evaluations ›on a countries’ own merits‹. The Thessaloniki Summit in 2003 strengthened the main objectives of the SAP and formally took over elements of the accession process—institutional domains and regulations that were to be harmonized with those existing in the EU. Harmonization is a wide concept, and it basically means adopting institutional measures following specific demands of the EU. It is a highly hierarchized process in which states asked to ›harmonize‹ do not have a say in things but have to conform to the measures set forth by the EU. As such, the adoption of the EU migration and border regime became a central part of the ongoing EU-accession process that emerged as the main platform and governmental technology of the early externalization and integration of transit and source countries into the EU border regime. This was the context of early bilateral and multilateral cooperation on this topic (concerning involved states, see Lipovec Čebron 2003; Stojić Mitrović 2014; Župarić-Iljić 2013; Bojadžijev 2007).

    The decisive inclusion of the Western Balkan states in the EU design of border control happened at the Thessaloniki European Summit in 2003, where concrete provisions concerning border management, security, and combating illegal migration were set according to European standards. These provisions have not been directly displayed, but were concealed as part of the package of institutional transformations that respective states had to conduct. The states were promised to become members of the EU if the conditions were met. In order to fulfill this goal, prospective EU member states had to maintain good mutual relations, build statehoods based on ›the rule of law‹, and, after a positive evaluation by the EU, begin with the implementation of concrete legislative and institutional changes on their territories (Stojić Mitrović/Vilenica 2019). The control of unwanted movements toward the EU was a priority of the EU accession process of the Western Balkan states from the very beginning (Kacarska 2012). It started with controlling the movement of their own nationals (to allow the states to be removed from the so-called Black Schengen list) during the visa facilitation process. If they managed to control the movement of their own nationals, especially those who applied for asylum in the EU via biometric passports and readmission obligations (asylum seekers from these states comprise a large portion of asylum seekers in the EU even today), they were promised easier access to the EU as an economic area. Gradually, the focus of movement control shifted to third-country nationals. In effect, the Western Balkan states introduced migration-related legislative and institutional transformations corresponding to the ones already existing in the EU, yet persistent ›non-doing‹ (especially regarding enabling access to rights and services for migrants) remained a main practice of deterrence (Valenta/Zuparic-Iljic/Vidovic 2015; Stojić Mitrović 2019).

    From the very beginning, becoming an active part of the European border regime and implementing EU-centric migration policies, or, to put it simply, conducting control policies over the movements of people, has not been the goal of the states along the Balkan route per se but a means to obtain political and economic benefits from the EU. They are included into the EU border regime as operational partners without formal power to influence migration policies. These states do have a voice, though, not only by creating the image of being able to manage the ›European problem‹, and accordingly receive further access to EU funds, but also by influencing EU migration policy through disobedience and actively avoiding conformity to ›prescribed‹ measures. A striking example of creative state disobedience are the so-called 72-hour-papers, which are legal provisions set by the Serbian 2007 Law on Asylum, later also introduced as law in North Macedonia in June 2015: Their initial function was to give asylum seekers who declared their ›intention to seek asylum‹ to the police the possibility to legally proceed to one of the asylum reception centers located within Serbia, where, in a second step, their asylum requests were to be examined in line with the idea of implementing a functioning asylum system according to EU standards. However, in practice, these papers were used as short-term visas for transiting through North Macedonia and Serbia that were handed out to hundreds of thousands of migrants (Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016: 17–19, 36).

    Furthermore, the introduction of migration control practices is often a means for achieving other political and economic goals. In the accessing states, migration management is seen as services they provide for the EU. In addition, demands created by migration management goals open new possibilities for employment, which are essential to societies with high unemployment rates.

    Besides direct economic benefits, migration has been confirmed to be a politically potent instrument. States and their institutions were more firmly integrated into existing EU structures, especially those related to the prevention of unwanted migration, such as increased police cooperation and Frontex agreements. On a local level, political leaders have increasingly been using migration-related narratives in everyday political life in order to confront the state or other political competitors, often through the use of Ethno-nationalist and related discourses. In recent times, as citizens of the states along the Balkan route themselves migrate in search for jobs and less precarious lives, migration from third states has been discursively linked to the fear of foreigners permanently settling in places at the expense of natives.
    Contemporary Context

    According to a growing body of literature (e.g. Hess/Kasparek 2020; Lunaček Brumen/Meh 2016; Speer 2017), the Balkan route of the year 2015 and the first months of 2016 can be conceptualized in phases, beginning with a clandestine phase, evolving to an open route and formalized corridor and back to an invisible route again. It is necessary to point to the fact that these different phases were not merely the result of state or EU-led top-down approaches, but the consequence of a »dynamic process which resulted from the interplay of state practices, practices of mobility, activities of activists, volunteers, and NGOs, media coverage, etc. The same applies for its closure« (Beznec/Speer/Stojić Mitrović 2016: 6).

    The closure of the corridor and stricter border controls resulted in a large transformation of the Balkan route and mobility practices in the recent years, when push-backs from deep within the EU-territory to neighboring non-EU states, erratic movements across borders and territories of the (Western) Balkan states, or desperate journeys back to Greece and then back to the north became everyday realities. In the same period, the route proliferated into more branches, especially a new one via Bosnia and Herzegovina. This proliferation lead to a heightened circulation of practices, people, and knowledge along these paths: a mushrooming of so-called ›jungle camps‹ in Bosnia and Herzegovina, an escalation of border violence in Croatia, chain push-backs from Slovenia, significant EU financial investments into border control in Croatia and camp infrastructures in neighboring countries, the deployment of Frontex in Albania, etc. As the actual itineraries of people on the move multiplied, people started to reach previously indiscernible spots, resulting in blurring of the differences between entering and exiting borders. Circular transit with many loops, involving moving forward and backwards, became the dominant form of migration movements in the region. It transformed the Balkan route into a »Balkan Circuit« (Stojić Mitrović/Vilenica 2019: 540; see also Stojić Mitrović/Ahmetašević/Beznec/Kurnik 2020). The topography changed from a unidirectional line to a network of hubs, accommodation, and socializing spots. In this landscape, some movements still remain invisible—undetected by actors aiming to support, contain, and even prevent migration. »We have no information about persons who have money to pay for the whole package, transfer, accommodation, food, medical assistance when needed, we have no idea how many of them just went further«, a former MSF employee stressed, »we only see those who reach for aid, who are poor or injured and therefore cannot immediately continue their journey.« Some movements are intentionally invisibilized by support groups in order to avoid unwanted attention, and, consequently, repressive measures have also become a common development in border areas where people on the move are waiting for their chance to cross. However, it seems that circular transnational migration of human beings, resulting directly from the securitarian practices of the European border regime, have also become a usual form of mobility in the region.

    The Balkan route as a whole has been increasingly made invisible to spectators from the EU in the last years. There were no mass media coverage, except for reports on deplorable conditions in certain hubs, such as Belgrade barracks (Serbia), Vučjak camp (Bosnia and Herzegovina), or violent push-backs from Croatia that received global and EU-wide attention. However, this spectacularization was rarely directly attributed to the externalization of border control but rather more readily linked to an presumed inability of the Balkan states to manage migration, or to manage it without the blatant use of violence.

    As Marta Stojić Mitrović and Ana Vilenica (2019) point out, practices, discourses, knowledge, concepts, technologies, even particular narratives, organizations, and individual professionals are following the changed topography. This is evident both in the securitarian and in the humanitarian sector: Frontex is signing or initiating cooperation agreements with non-EU member Balkan states, border guards learn from each other how to prevent movements or how to use new equipment, obscure Orbanist legislative changes and institutionalized practices are becoming mainstream, regional coordinators of humanitarian organizations transplant the same ›best practices‹ how to work with migrants, how to organize their accommodation, what aid to bring and when, and how to ›deal‹ with the local communities in different nation-states, while the emergency framework travels from one space to another. Solidarity groups are networking, exchanging knowledge and practices but simultaneously face an increased criminalization of their activities. The public opinion in different nation states is shaped by the same dominant discourses on migration, far-right groups are building international cooperations and exploit the same narratives that frame migrants and migration as dangerous.
    About the Issue

    This issue of movements highlights the current situation of migration struggles along this fragmented, circular, and precarious route and examines the diverse attempts by the EU, transnational institutions, countries in the region, local and interregional structures, and multiple humanitarian actors to regain control over the movements of migration after the official closure of the humanitarian-securitarian corridor in 2016. It reflects on the highly dynamic and conflicting developments since 2015 and their historical entanglements, the ambiguities of humanitarian interventions and strategies of containment, migratory tactics of survival, local struggles, artistic interventions, regional and transnational activism, and recent initiatives to curb the extensive practices of border violence and push-backs. In doing so, the issue brings back the region on the European agenda and sheds light on the multiple historical disruptions, bordering practices, and connectivities that have been forming its presence.

    EU migration policy is reaffirming old and producing new material borders: from border fences to document checks—conducted both by state authorities and increasingly the general population, like taxi drivers or hostel owners—free movement is put in question for all, and unwanted movements of migrants are openly violently prevented. Violence and repression toward migrants are not only normalized but also further legalized through transformations of national legislation, while migrant solidarity initiatives and even unintentional facilitations of movement or stay (performed by carriers, accommodation providers, and ordinary citizens) are increasingly at risk of being criminalized.

    In line with this present state, only briefly tackled here, a number of contributions gathered in this issue challenge normative perceptions of the restrictive European border regime and engage in the critical analysis of its key mechanisms, symbolic pillars, and infrastructures by framing them as complex and depending on context. Furthermore, some of them strive to find creative ways to circumvent the dominance of linear or even verbal explication and indulge in narrative fragments, interviews, maps, and graphs. All contributions are focused and space- or even person-specific. They are based on extensive research, activist, volunteer or other involvement, and they are reflexive and critical towards predominant perspectives and views.

    Artist and activist Selma Banich, in her contribution entitled »Shining«, named after one of her artistic intervention performed in a Zagreb neighborhood, assembles notes and reflections on her ongoing series of site-specific interventions in Zagreb made of heat sheet (hallmarks of migrants’ rescue boats and the shores of Europe) and her personal notes in which she engages with her encounters with three persons on the move or, rather, on the run from the European border control regime. Her contribution, formulated as a series of fragments of two parallel lines, which on the surface seem loosely, but in fact deeply, connected, speaks of the power of ambivalence and of the complexities of struggles that take place everyday on the fringes of the EU. Andrea Contenta visualizes and analyzes camps that have been mushrooming in Serbia in the recent years with a series of maps and graphs. The author’s detailed analysis—based on a critical use of available, often conflicting, data—shows how Serbia has kept thousands of people outside of the western EU territory following a European strategy of containment. Contenta concludes his contribution with a clear call, stating: »It is not only a theoretical issue anymore; containment camps are all around us, and we cannot just continue to write about it.« Serbia, and Belgrade in particular, is of central importance for transmigration through the Balkans. On a micro-level, the maps of Paul Knopf, Miriam Neßler and Cosima Zita Seichter visualize the so-called Refugee District in Belgrade and shed light on the transformation of urban space by transit migration. On a macro-level, their contribution illustrates the importance of Serbia as a central hub for migrant mobility in the Balkans as well as for the externalization of the European border regime in the region. The collective efforts to support the struggle of the people on the move—by witnessing, documenting, and denouncing push-backs—are presented by the Push-Back Map Collective’s self-reflection. In their contribution to this issue, the Push-Back Map Collective ask themselves questions or start a dialogue among themselves in order to reflect and evaluate the Push-Back map (www.pushbackmap.org) they launched and maintain. They also investigate the potentials of political organizing that is based on making an invisible structure visible. The activist collective Info Kolpa from Ljubljana gives an account of push-backs conducted by the Slovenian police and describes initiatives to oppose what they deem as systemic violence of police against people on the move and violent attempts to close the borders. The text contributes to understanding the role of extralegal police practices in restoring the European border regime and highlights the ingenuity of collectives that oppose it. Patricia Artimova’s contribution entitled »A Volunteer’s Diary« could be described as a collage of diverse personal notes of the author and others in order to present the complexity of the Serbian and Bosnian context. The genre of diary notes allows the author to demonstrate the diachronic line presented in the volunteers’ personal engagements and in the gradual developments occurring in different sites and states along the route within a four-year period. She also traces the effects of her support for people on the move on her social relations at home. Emina Bužinkić focuses on the arrest, detention, and deportation of a non-EU national done by Croatia to show the implications of current securitization practices on the everyday lives and life projects of migrants and refugees. Based on different sources (oral histories, official documentation, personal history, etc.), her intervention calls for direct political action and affirms a new genre one could provisionally call ›a biography of a deportation‹. In her »Notes from the Field« Azra Hromadžić focuses on multiple encounters between the locals of Bihać, a city located in the northwestern corner of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and people on the move who stop there while trying to cross into Croatia and the EU. Some of the sections and vignettes of her field notes are written as entries describing a particular day, while others are more anthropological and analytical reflections. Her focus lies on the local people’s perspectives, the dynamics of their daily encounters with migrants and alleged contradictions, philigram distinctions, as well as experiences of refugeeness that create unique relationships between people and histories in Bihać. Karolína Augustová and Jack Sapoch, activists of the grassroots organization No Name Kitchen and members of the Border Violence Monitoring Network, offer a systematized account of violence towards people on the move with their research report. The condensed analysis of violent practices, places, victims, and perpetrators of the increasingly securitized EU border apparatus is based on interviews conducted with people on the move in border areas with Croatia, Šid (Serbia) and Velika Kladuša (BiH). They identify a whole range of violence that people on the move are facing, which often remains ignored or underestimated, and thus condoned, in local national settings as well as on the EU and global level. They conclude that border violence against people on the move cannot be interpreted as mere aggression emanating from individuals or groups of the police but is embedded in the states’ structures.

    We also gathered scientific papers discussing and analyzing different aspects of the corridor and the years thereafter. In their article, Andrej Kurnik and Barbara Beznec focus on assemblages of mobility, which are composed of practices of migrants and local agencies that strive to escape what the authors call ›the sovereign imperative‹. In their analysis of different events and practices since 2015, they demonstrate how migratory movements reveal the hidden subalternized local forms of escape and invigorate the dormant critique of coloniality in the geopolitical locations along the Balkan route. In their concluding remarks, the authors ask to confront the decades-long investments into repressive and exclusionary EU migration policies and point to the political potential of migration as an agent of decolonization. The authors stress that post-Yugoslav European borderland that has been a laboratory of Europeanization for the last thirty years, a site of a ›civilizing‹ mission that systematically diminishes forms of being in common based on diversity and alterity is placed under scrutiny again. Romana Pozniak explores the ethnography of aid work, giving special attention to dynamics between emotional and rational dimensions. Based primarily on interviews conducted with humanitarians employed during the mass refugee transit through the Balkan corridor, she analyzes, historizes, and contextualizes their experiences in terms of affective labor. The author defines affective labor as efforts invested in reflecting on morally, emotionally, and mentally unsettling affects. She deals with local employment measures and how they had an impact on employed workers. Pozniak discusses the figure of the compassionate aid professional by it in a specific historical context of the Balkan corridor and by including personal narrations about it. The article of Robert Rydzewski focuses on the situation in Serbia after the final closure of the formalized corridor in March 2016. Rydzewski argues that extensive and multidirectional migrant movements on the doorstep of the EU are an expression of hope to bring a ›stuckedness‹ to an end. In his analysis, he juxtaposes the representations of migrant movements as linear with migrant narratives and their persistent unilinear movement despite militarized external European Union borders, push-backs, and violence of border guards. Rydzewsky approaches the structural and institutional imposition of waiting with the following questions: What does interstate movement mean for migrants? Why do migrants reject state protection offered by government facilities in favor of traveling around the country? In her article, Céline Cantat focuses on the Serbian capital Belgrade and how ›solidarities in transit‹ or the heterogeneous community of actors supporting people on the move emerged and dissolved in the country in 2015/2016. She analyzes the gradual marginalization of migrant presence and migration solidarity in Belgrade as an outcome of imposing of an institutionalized, official, camp-based, and heavily regulated refugee aid field. This field regulates the access not only to camps per se, but also to fundings for activities by independent groups or civil sector organizations. Teodora Jovanović, by using something she calls ›autoethnography of participation‹, offers a meticulous case study of Miksalište, a distribution hub in Belgrade established in 2015, which she joined as a volunteer in 2016. The transformation of this single institution is examined by elaborating on the transformation within the political and social contexts in Serbia and its capital, Belgrade, regarding migration policies and humanitarian assistance. She identifies three, at times intertwined, modes of response to migration that have shaped the development of the Miksalište center in corresponding stages: voluntarism, professionalization, and re-statization. She connects the beginning and end of each stage of organizing work in Miksalište by investigating the actors, roles, activities, and manners in which these activities are conducted in relation to broader changes within migration management and funding.

    Finishing this editorial in the aftermath of brutal clashes at the borders of Turkey and Greece and in the wake of the global pandemic of COVID-19—isolated in our homes, some of us even under curfew—we experience an escalation and normalization of restrictions, not only of movement but also of almost every aspect of social and political life. We perceive a militarization, which pervades public spaces and discourses, the introduction of new and the reinforcement of old borders, in particular along the line of EU external borders, a heightened immobilization of people on the move, their intentional neglect in squats and ›jungles‹ or their forceful encampment in deplorable, often unsanitary, conditions, where they are faced with food reductions, violence of every kind, and harrowing isolation. At the same time, we witness an increase of anti-migrant narratives not only spreading across obscure social networks but also among high ranked officials. Nonetheless, we get glimpses of resistance and struggles happening every day inside and outside the camps. Videos of protests and photos of violence that manage to reach us from the strictly closed camps, together with testimonies and outcries, are fragments of migrant agency that exist despite overwhelming repression.

    #Balkans #route_des_Balkans #asile #migrations #réfugiés #revue #humanitarisme #espoir #attente #mobilité #Belgrade #Serbie #solidarité #Miksaliste #Bihac #Bosnie #Bosnie-Herzégovine #encampement #corridor #cartographie #visualisation

  • #Nadezhda_De_Santis

    Sa tombe, dans le cimetière de #Florence :


    Je découvre cette tombe et son nom dans le livre La linea del colore de #Igiaba_Scego :


    Sur internet, je trouve très peu d’informations sur cette dame enterrée à Venise :

    Nadezhda De Santis, a black Nubian slave brought to Florence at fourteen from #Jean-François_Champollion ’s 1827 expedition to Egypt and Nubia, while the French Royalist exile Félicie de Fauveau sculpted two tombs here

    #esclavage #Nubie #colonialisme #colonisation #histoire

    –-> peut-être des seenthisien·nes en savent plus ? @simplicissimus ?

    J’ajoute à la métaliste Italie coloniale, car cette femme est enterrée en Italie...

  • La pandémie a réactivé la route des migrants vers les îles Canaries

    La semaine dernière, 27 migrants sont décédés en mer au large des îles Canaries. Cette route depuis l’Afrique est à nouveau largement utilisée par les passeurs depuis la pandémie, alors qu’en #Méditerranée de nombreux Tunisiens tentent désormais de gagner l’Italie.

    « Cette route vers les Canaries, utilisée en 2005-2006, n’avait plus été utilisée pendant de nombreuses années et a été réactivée », explique l’envoyé spécial pour la situation en Méditerranée centrale du Haut Commissariat des Nations unies pour les réfugiés (HCR) vendredi dans a Matinale. « Depuis le début de l’année, on voit six fois plus de départs des côtes marocaines, du #Sahara_occidental, de la #Mauritanie, du #Sénégal et de la #Gambie vers les Canaries », précise Vincent Cochetel.

    Des frontières fermées mais poreuses

    Plus de 40 pays africains ont pourtant fermé leurs frontières pour cause de pandémie. Mais « ce n’est pas des frontières toujours très faciles à contrôler », souligne ce responsable au HCR. « Il s’agit de déserts, de lieux très peu habités, et les trafiquants multiplient les offres pour essayer d’amener un maximum de clients vers les pays d’Afrique du Nord ».

    Et avec ce déplacement géographique partiel des traversées par la mer, l’Espagne se retrouve directement touchée. « L’Espagne a toujours été un pays d’arrivées, mais principalement pour de jeunes Marocains », rappelle Vincent Cochetel. « Aujourd’hui, on voit une baisse des départs du Maroc directement vers la Péninsule ibérique. L’augmentation des départs se fait surtout vers les îles Canaries ».

    La désillusion des Tunisiens

    Et si les traversées diminuent depuis les côtes marocaines, c’est désormais la Tunisie qui est devenue le premier pays de départ - principalement vers l’Italie. « En termes de chiffres, cela reste gérable », assure l’envoyé spécial pour la situation en Méditerranée centrale. « On parle de 10’000 personnes, dont 34% ont été sauvées ou interceptées par les garde-côtes tunisiens et ramenées sur les côtes tunisiennes. Mais c’est une augmentation très forte, qui touche les populations pauvres du sud de la Tunisie principalement ».

    Cette forte progression des Tunisiens voulant rejoindre l’Europe s’explique notamment par le #désespoir et les #désillusions. « Beaucoup de gens attendaient des changements politiques en Tunisie qui ne sont pas encore intervenus », explique #Vincent_Cochetel. C’est l’effet aussi de la pandémie et des mesures restrictives imposées sur le plan de la fermeture des frontières avec la Libye. « Les gens ne voient pas d’autre #espoir que dans leur #mobilité_personnelle. Et bien entendu les passeurs jouent là-dessus et vendent leurs projets de mort facilement ».


    #Canaries #routes_migratoires #parcours_migratoires #asile #migrations #réfugiés #îles_Canaries #tunisiens #migrants_tunisiens #réfugiés_tunisiens

    ping @_kg_

  • https://www.franceculture.fr/societe/anselm-japp-esperons-de-garder-ce-que-cette-crise-a-de-positif

    [...] la gravité de cette crise de la société capitaliste mondiale n’est pas la conséquence directe et proportionnée de l’ampleur de la maladie. Elle est plutôt la conséquence de la fragilité extrême de cette société et un révélateur de son état réel. L’économie capitaliste est folle dans ses bases mêmes – et non seulement dans sa version néolibérale.

    Le capitalisme industriel dévaste le monde depuis plus de deux siècles. Il est miné par des contradictions internes, dont la première est l’usage de technologies qui, en remplaçant les travailleurs, augmentent les profits dans l’immédiat, mais font tarir la source ultime de tout profit : l’exploitation de la force de travail. Depuis cinquante ans, le capitalisme survit essentiellement grâce à l’endettement qui est arrivé à des dimensions astronomiques. La finance ne constitue pas la cause de la crise du capitalisme, elle l’aide au contraire à cacher son manque de rentabilité réelle – mais au prix de la construction d’un château de cartes toujours plus vacillant. On pouvait alors se demander si l’effondrement de ce château adviendrait par des causes « économiques », comme en 2008, ou plutôt écologiques.

    Avec l’épidémie, un facteur de crise inattendu est apparu – l’essentiel n’est pourtant pas le virus, mais la société qui le reçoit.

    NB : concernant le tarissement du travail, il faut préciser que le travail source de (sur)valeur indispensable à la reproduction du capital ne peut être qu’un travail accompli selon le standard de productivité du moment (qui est par ailleurs en constante augmentation sous l’effet de la concurrence entre capitalistes). Tous les travailleurs exploités à bas prix dans les zones de faible productivité sont des opportunités de profit pour certains capitalistes, mais pas une possibilité de reproduction du capital au niveau global. Le capital ne peut se reproduire que s’il produit par ailleurs des consommateurs solvables à hauteur de la masse de capitaux mise en mouvement. Comme l’indique Jappe, ce n’est plus le cas depuis au moins cinquante ans (et ce ne sera plus jamais le cas, compte tenu des niveaux de productivité atteints et des masses de capitaux accumulés).

  • Durant cette période de #confinement, restons en #lien, ne laissons pas la morosité nous gagner. Apportons-nous mutuellement #soutien et #réconfort ! Une pensée, des pistes d’entraide, une réflexion commune pour repenser ce monde qui part en vrille. Et tout ce qui pourra réenchanter un quotidien qui s’assombrit. Faisons vivre notre idéal de #fraternité et de solidarité, quel que soit notre sexe, notre couleur de peau, notre milieu ou notre âge ! Ouvrons l’horizon, faisons germer l’#espoir à partir de cette crise... Montrons qu’un autre monde est possible !

    #solidarité #covid-19 #coronavirus #France #cartographie #visualisation ##COVID-ENTRAIDE #entraide

    Adresse url pour la carte :

    • Retournons la « #stratégie_du_choc » en déferlante de #solidarité !

      Depuis une semaine la France est entrée dans une nouvelle réalité vertigineuse. Le Covid-19 n’est plus une « petite grippe », selon nos gouvernants, mais la « pire crise sanitaire depuis un siècle ». Un choc intime qui nous fait trembler pour nos proches et toutes les personnes particulièrement fragiles. Une secousse géopolitique qui fait s’effondrer la mondialisation néolibérale comme un château de cartes. 2019 avait été une année d’incendies ravageurs en Australie, Amazonie et ailleurs, et d’immenses soulèvements populaires. 2020 a d’ores et déjà les traits d’une paralysie totale, une crise systémique majeure.

      Cette pandémie achève de rendre irrespirable la vie dans un système politique et économique délirant, néfaste, mais surtout inutile au moment où un immense besoin de soin se fait sentir. Après être resté attentiste pendant un mois et demi, Emmanuel Macron a promis, pour ne pas perdre la face, que « l’État paiera […] quoi qu’il en coûte ». La « mobilisation générale » est décrétée. « Nous sommes en guerre », paraît-il, contre un « ennemi invisible ».

      Face à cette rhétorique militariste, nous affirmons une autre logique. À « l’union nationale » nous préférons l’entraide générale. À la guerre, nous opposons le soin, de nos proches jusqu’aux peuples du monde entier et au vivant. En France, comme dans les autres pays, nous allons tenir ensemble pour faire face à l’épidémie. Nous allons transformer l’isolement imposé en immense élan d’auto-organisation et de solidarité collective.

      Avec nos voisin.e.s, nos ami.e.s, nos familles, nos proches, nos collègues ; dans nos immeubles, nos rues, nos quartiers, nos villes et nos villages ; notamment en utilisant les réseaux sociaux, nous allons construire l’entraide à la base. Pour aider les plus fragiles qui ne peuvent pas sortir à obtenir de la nourriture. Pour garder les enfants de celles et ceux qui doivent continuer de travailler. Pour partager des informations vérifiées sur la situation. Pour se donner des nouvelles et se réconforter dans cette situation déchirante. Pour soutenir les plus précaires dans leurs luttes pour vivre. Pour faire face à une crise économique, bancaire et financière qui s’annonce dévastatrice malgré les annonces faussement rassurantes des banques centrales. En restant chez nous pour le moment, mais dans la rue dès que possible.

      Face à l’ampleur du bouleversement, même Emmanuel Macron appelle à « innover dans la solidarité ». Mais nous ne sommes pas dupes du fameux « en même temps » : l’entraide que nous construisons n’est pas l’auxiliaire d’un État néolibéral défaillant. Elle ne sera pas le cheval de Troie d’une future « stratégie du choc » à base de télétravail, de « volontariat citoyen » dans des services publics détruits, et de poursuite dans la destruction des acquis sociaux au nom de « l’état d’urgence sanitaire ».

      Notre solidarité est celle du peuple, de ceux d’en bas, qui se serrent les coudes pour survivre et pour vivre dignement. Elle n’a rien à voir avec celle des élites mondiales – facilement dépistées, elles -, qui se retranchent dans leurs palais dorés, protégés et désinfectés pendant que les soignant-e-s sont « au front » sans moyens et fabriquent leurs propres masques de protection en prenant tous les risques.

      Pendant que les travailleurs sociaux et les institutrices gardent leurs enfants, sans consigne officielle pour se protéger, s’exposant à une contamination. Pendant que les plus précaires, les sans logis, sans papiers, sans réseaux sociaux, les intérimaires sans chômage partiel, les « indépendants » contraints au travail en danger ou sans activité, seront encore plus frappé.e.s par la crise. Pendant que les « déjà confiné.e.s », les migrant.e.s enfermé.e.s en centres de rétentions et les prisonnier-e-s voient leur situation encore aggravée. Pendant que les habitant.e.s des quartiers populaires et les personnes racisé.e.s sont parmi les premier.e.s visé.e.s par la répression liée au confinement.

      Jamais l’alternative n’a été si claire, le scandale si palpable : nous jouons notre vie pendant qu’eux gèrent l’économie.

      L’entraide que nous allons construire s’inscrit dans le sillage du soulèvement des peuples partout dans le monde au cours des derniers mois, du Chili au Liban, de l’Algérie au Soudan. Cette vague a répandu sur la planète la nécessité de mettre nos corps en jeu. Le Covid-19 rend indispensable, pour l’heure, leur confinement. Mais révoltées ou confinés, nous mourrons d’un système qui recherche le profit et l’efficacité et pas le soin, le pouvoir et la compétition et pas l’entraide.

      Cette épidémie ravageuse n’est pas une simple réalité biologique. Elle est amplifiée par les politiques néolibérales, la destruction méthodique de l’hôpital et de l’ensemble des services publics. Si ce virus tue autant, c’est aussi parce qu’il n’y a plus assez de soignant.e.s et de lits, pas assez de respirateurs ou parce que l’hôpital tend à devenir une entreprise à flux tendu. Et si nous applaudissons chaque soir à 20h les soignant.e.s, c’est aussi pour contenir notre colère contre les gouvernants qui savaient que la tempête arrivait depuis deux mois sans rien faire.

      Nous appelons donc à renforcer la solidarité et l’auto-organisation pour faire face à la pandémie et la crise systémique, partout où c’est possible, sous toutes les formes imaginables, tout en respectant la nécessité absolue du confinement pour freiner la propagation. Plus particulièrement, nous appelons à rejoindre le réseau de solidarité auto-organisé #COVID-ENTRAIDE FRANCE (https://covid-entraide.fr) qui se constitue dans des dizaines de lieux depuis une dizaine de jours. Nous invitons à créer des groupes d’entraides locaux en ligne et sur le terrain, de notre hameau à notre village, de notre immeuble à notre ville. Nous appelons à recenser les centaines d’initiatives qui se créent à travers une cartographie collaborative (https://covidentraide.gogocarto.fr).

      Ne restons pas sidéré.e.s face à cette situation qui nous bouleverse, nous enrage et nous fait trembler. Lorsque la pandémie sera finie, d’autres crises viendront. Entre temps, il y aura des responsables à aller chercher, des comptes à rendre, des plaies à réparer et un monde à construire. À nous de faire en sorte que l’onde de choc mondiale du Covid-19 soit la « crise » de trop et marque un coup d’arrêt au régime actuel d’exploitation et de destruction des conditions d’existence sur Terre. Il n’y aura pas de « sortie de crise » sans un bouleversement majeur de l’organisation sociale et économique actuelle.

      Il y aura un avant et un après. Nous sommes pour l’instant confiné-e-s, mais nous nous organisons. Et, pour sûr, nous reprendrons les rues, les jardins, les outils de travail, les moyens de communication et les assemblées, ensemble.

      La stratégie du choc doit s’inverser. Cette fois-ci le choc ne servira pas à affermir le contrôle, le pouvoir central, les inégalités et le néolibéralisme, mais à renforcer l’entraide et l’auto-organisation. À les inscrire dans le marbre.

      INFOS :

      Site internet : https://covid-entraide.fr
      Inscrivez votre groupe local ici : https://covidentraide.gogocarto.fr
      Contact : covidentraidefrance@riseup.net

      #épidémie #coronavirus #pandémie

  • Manif des ’gilets jaunes’ : « Moi, dircab du Préfet, de leur point de vue, j’ai basculé dans le camp de l’ennemi »

    Laurent est passé dans « l’autre camp ». Il était directeur de cabinet du Préfet en charge du maintien de l’ordre. Il dit aujourd’hui manifester avec les ’gilets jaunes’ au « nom des mêmes valeurs qui lui ont fait servir l’Etat ». Laurent et Philippe racontent leurs choix et leur changement de camp.

    Beau #témoignage #violences_policières #Gilets_jaunes

    • Les blairistes ont été assez stupides pour combiner leur promotion de « Cool Britannia » avec des réformes massives de l’aide sociale, ce qui a effectivement conduit à ce que ce projet explose en vol : presque tous ceux qui avaient le potentiel pour devenir le prochain John Lennon doivent désormais passer le reste de leur vie à empiler des caisses pour les supermarchés Tesco, comme les y obligent les nouvelles formes de conditionalité des aides sociales.
      En fin de compte, tout ce que les blairistes ont réussi à produire, c’est un secteur de marketing de classe mondiale (puisque c’est ce que les classes moyenne savent faire). A part ça, elles n’avaient rien d’autre à offrir.


      Je me souviens d’avoir assisté à une conférence universitaire sur le sujet et de m’être demandé : « D’accord, je comprends la partie vapeur, c’est évident, mais... quel est le rapport avec le punk ? » Et puis ça m’est venu à l’esprit. No future ! L’ère victorienne était la dernière fois que la plupart des britanniques croyaient vraiment en un avenir axé sur la technologie qui allait mener à un monde non seulement plus prospère et égalitaire, mais aussi plus amusant et excitant. Puis, bien sûr, vint la Grande Guerre, et nous avons découvert à quoi le XXe siècle allait vraiment ressembler, avec son alternance monotone de terreur et d’ennui dans les tranchées. Le Steampunk n’était-il pas une façon de dire : ne pouvons-nous pas simplement revenir en arrière, considérer tout le siècle dernier comme un mauvais rêve, et recommencer à zéro ?

      #David_Graeber #désespoir #espoir #Royaume-Uni #classe_sociale #politique #économie #steampunk #crash #stratégie_du_choc (y compris pour lui, car il voudrait mettre en avant un récit qui accuse les conservateurs, en attendant un prochain crash pour les éjecter)

      Les nouveaux dirigeants travaillistes font les premiers pas : ils appellent à de nouveaux modèles économiques ("socialisme avec un iPad") et cherchent des alliés potentiels dans l’industrie high-tech. Si nous nous dirigeons vraiment vers un avenir de production décentralisée, de taille réduite, high-tech et robotisée, il est fort possible que les traditions particulières du Royaume-Uni en matière de petite entreprise et de science amateur - qui ne l’ont jamais rendu particulièrement adapté aux conglomérats bureaucratisés géants qui ont si bien réussi aux États-Unis et en Allemagne, dans leurs manifestations capitalistes ou socialistes - puissent se révéler tout particulièrement appropriés.

      Et par contre #technophilie voire #techno-béat si la solution est basée sur la #high-tech (qui ne sera jamais séparable du capitalisme et de l’impérialisme).

  • #Pour_Sama

    #Waad_al-Kateab est une jeune femme syrienne qui vit à Alep lorsque la guerre éclate en 2011. Sous les bombardements, la vie continue. Waad tombe amoureuse, se marie avec Hamza et donne naissance à sa fille, Sama. Elle filme au quotidien les #pertes, les #espoirs et la #solidarité du peuple d’Alep. Son mari médecin sauve des centaines de vies dans un hôpital de fortune. Le couple est déchiré entre la protection de leur enfant et leur combat pour la #liberté.


    #film #documentaire #film_documentaire #Alep #guerre #vie #bombardements #hôpital #Syrie #révolution #résistance #ville #ville_en_guerre #témoignage #siège

  • No Go World. How Fear Is Redrawing Our Maps and Infecting Our Politics

    War-torn deserts, jihadist killings, trucks weighted down with contraband and migrants—from the Afghan-Pakistan borderlands to the Sahara, images of danger depict a new world disorder on the global margins. With vivid detail, #Ruben_Andersson traverses this terrain to provide a startling new understanding of what is happening in remote “danger zones.” Instead of buying into apocalyptic visions, Andersson takes aim at how Western states and international organizations conduct military, aid, and border interventions in a dangerously myopic fashion, further disconnecting the world’s rich and poor. Using drones, proxy forces, border reinforcement, and outsourced aid, risk-obsessed powers are helping to remap the world into zones of insecurity and danger. The result is a vision of chaos crashing into fortified borders, with national and global politics riven by fear. Andersson contends that we must reconnect and snap out of this dangerous spiral, which affects us whether we live in Texas or Timbuktu. Only by developing a new cartography of hope can we move beyond the political geography of fear that haunts us.

    #livre #peur #géographie_politique #marges #désordre #inégalités #pauvres #riches #pauvreté #richesse #drones #fermeture_des_frontières #insécurité #danger #chaos #militarisation_des_frontières #espoir
    ping @cede @karine4 @isskein

  • #De_l'autre_côté

    Hamza est un jeune tunisien résolu à quitter son pays par tous les moyens. De moyen, il n’en a qu’un seul : payer des passeurs pour traverser la méditerranée sur un minuscule bateau de pêche plein à craquer, et rejoindre clandestinement l’Europe et la France.
    Pourtant Hamza a des attaches, une compagne, une famille, des amis avec qui il a lutté durant les révolutions arabes. Mais il aspire a autre chose qu’une vie de misère, il veut aller au-delà de ce qu’il connaît, affronter le réel, croire que la vie a autre chose à lui offrir. Il n’est pas naïf, il sait que les risques sont grands, et minces les espoirs d’une vie meilleure, mais il veut voir par lui-même. Cette traversée est une expérience intime.
    Car Hamza est un rêveur et toujours ses images mentales, ses espoirs, ses peurs viennent se mêler à la réalité extérieure, la contaminer, lui offrir une échappatoire et un but à poursuivre. Si sa situation est particulière, ses aspiration sont universelles. Qui n’a jamais rêvé de partir, de se réinventer ?
    Le danger pour lui n’est pas simplement de mourir noyé, de se voir terrassé par la faim, d’être renvoyé d’où il vient, de ne pas trouver de logement, de travail, mais également de se voir privé de ce qui fonde sa condition d’homme : ses #espoirs, ses #craintes, son #imaginaire.

    #BD #livre #migrations #Tunisie #Méditerranée #Lampedusa #migrants_tunisiens #printemps_arabe

  • #Eric_Piolle sur France inter

    Le maire écologiste de Grenoble est l’invité d"Eric Delvaux à l’occasion de la parution aux éditions Les liens qui libèrent de son livre « Grandir ensemble. Les villes réveillent l’espoir ».



    Quelques extraits :

    « C’est à l’échelle des villes qu’on peut allier #justice_sociale et #justice_environnementale, qui fait défaut à l’échelle nationale ».

    « Pour relever le défi de justice sociale et environnementale, il faut cultiver ensemble des #biens_communs, garantir des sécurités pour chacun »

    « Les habitants du territoire quels qu’ils soient, c’est des habitants légitimes pour travailler sur des budgets participatifs, pour aménager un morceau de quartier, pour s’entraîner à la #démocratie_locale »
    –-> « Le gouvernement Macron nous a attaqués au tribunal pour notre dispositif de #votation_citoyenne parce qu’il était ouvert aux + de 16 ans, parce qu’il était ouvert à tous les résidents quel que soit leur statut par rapport aux listes électorales et parce que les élus, c’était le troisième argument, ne pouvaient pas se déposséder de leur capacité de décision ».

    ping @karine4