Deportation, Nation and Incarceration: What does it mean to be a citizen?

By Cornel Grey

Cornel Grey is a PhD Student at the University of Toronto whose research focuses primarily on black geographies and surveillance studies.

 

About two weeks ago, news broke that the United Kingdom (UK) government had made the decision to deport some fifty people and relocate them to Jamaica (Jamaica’s news media has listed the total number of arrivals closer to forty; it has since been reported that some of the detained individuals were taken off the flight following intervention made by legal representation).

20131028diasporaThe forced removal of these long-time UK residents follows their unsuccessful attempts in applying for citizenship in the UK. According to reports in the British Guardian newspaper, those expelled from the country included applicants who were having issues moving through the naturalisation process as well as others who were making appeals to stay based on other circumstances. Several had moved to the UK as children, with most having since established families of their own while living there. All are part of dense networks that they consider home, be it family, friends, co-workers, etc., raising the question of why these individuals are being made to leave for a country in which they have minimal ties and support? I am sure many would argue that this case is merely about each person’s individual failure to “follow the rules”. However, I would encourage us to think about the implications of this decision not only for those involved but for what it might say about the political moment in which we find ourselves.

The reported stories include that of an elderly woman whose application was made based on the citizenship status of her husband. Her husband, however, died before the process was completed. She was subsequently denied permission to stay because it was believed that she no longer had reason to be in the country. This is despite the fact that she has children and grandchildren living in the UK. There are questions we can ask about the processing time of applications of this kind, but I am more interested in what seems to be a complete lack of compassion and ethics. She not only lost her spouse, but she was at risk of losing her home and being alienated from her family as well. In short, an entire life. As someone whose working years are largely past her, this uprooting will undoubtedly make her efforts to rebuild a life elsewhere harder than most. Luckily, she was among the few who were taken off the flight following a judicial review that was filed on her behalf. Then there is Twane Morgan who, according to reports, served in the British armed forces and is now living with a mental illness following his time in Afghanistan. Now, while I am not in support of militarized institutions, what does it say about the ways in which citizenship and labour are conceived if Morgan was allowed to participate in the British army, an act that was once considered a duty for men as an expression of citizenship, but not be granted permission to live day-to-day in a country he ‘fought for’? And yet, there is an established legacy of such treatment. We may want to consider the experiences of soldiers from the Caribbean who fought in the World Wars on behalf of Britain. A story seldom told, members of the British West Indian Regiment were subjected to various forms of discrimination during and after their service. Those deemed unfit were sent back to the West Indies without benefits or pensions and those who remained in Britain had to deal with the racist attitudes of folks who did not want them there.

Then there was the father whose baby was taken away from him by social services upon his detention. With cases like this, the Home Office has indicated that those who have been removed have the option of keeping in touch with their loved ones through online media such as Skype. To say that this suggestion is absurd is an understatement. It is not up to the government to determine how parents choose to raise a child but to limit a parent’s capacity to engage in their upbringing in this way is disturbing. One also wonders about the rationale for removing the child from the father’s care. If he happens to the sole caregiver, should he not at least have the option of taking his child with him?

This episode has sparked several think-pieces in Jamaica’s newspapers as citizens from different sectors share their views on the matter. Amidst these debates is a renewed discussion about deportees’ criminal status and the possibility that they will engage in illegal activities while in Jamaica. The authors of one editorial expressed caution about the government’s embrace of deportees, noting that many deportees have been accused or convicted of illegal activities ranging from theft to murder. Citizenship, in this instance, is framed as a privilege, one that should not be taken for granted even in one’s country of birth. I must admit, I find the authors’ focus on crime curious in comparison to the language employed by The Unity Centre on their website. The Unity Centre, a UK-based collective that provides support to asylum seekers and migrants, has been one of the groups opposed to the deportation of these UK residents. In an online press release, Jamaica’s crime rate and slow processing time in judicial matters are framed as one of the reasons why the detained should not be removed from the UK. It is believed they will be in more danger should they be moved to Jamaica. Our collective discussion on crime needs to be more nuanced than this. It is not only lazy, but also prejudicial for governments, organizations and individuals to discuss crime in such a simplistic way. Crime and criminality is not something that we can easily associate with countries and individuals in a way that suggests it is something innate. Furthermore, do we really believe ‘displacing’ crime will help us?

Some (deportees included) have criticized what they regard as complicity on the part of the Jamaican government in this matter. Members of the Opposition party, the Peoples’ National Party (PNP), in Jamaica have expressed some concern about the Government’s participation in this matter, noting that many of the deportees would not even have a Jamaican passport based on the length of time they have been living in the UK.  However, and according to current National Security Minister Robert Montague, the Opposition Party is actually responsible for the agreement that allows the UK to transport Jamaican detainees back to the island. The former Minister of National Security, Dr. Peter Phillips, confirmed this decision as he defended a 2007 Memorandum of Understanding between Jamaica and the UK that outlines the terms under which Jamaicans living in the UK would be deported.  There are undertones of a fear-based, protectionist outlook in Phillips’ explanation as he argues that the agreement was

established so that the Jamaican government could ensure that deportees sent to Jamaica were actually their own and not those from other countries.

The deportation of these Jamaican-UK residents should not surprise us. It is the latest in a global project that continues to disavow the lives of those from the Global South, those racialized and poor people the world over. In the wake of US Presidential contender Donald Trump’s plan to erect a wall along the US-Mexico border, the xenophobic fears stoked by Brexit (and which resulted in a referendum in favour of the UK leaving the European Community) and just recently an announced plan to construct a border wall in Calais, France, it would appear that we are not in as ‘global’ or open a world as we are often led to believe. There is the sense that we are in a moment in which nation-states, particularly those with economic power, are making moves to protect their own economy in a way that manifests as a form of ethnic cleansing. It was only last year that David Cameron (British Prime Minister at the time) announced that a prison would be built in Jamaica to house Jamaican-born inmates who are currently held in UK prisons. Within the past week, we learnt that the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF) are apparently setting up shop in Jamaica as well. The racial and political dimensions of this will have to be thought through further but it is vital that we pay close attention. Jamaica has an international reputation as a country rife with crime. This in mind, I wonder then if a super-prison and a FBI outpost do not indicate that Jamaica may be becoming a hub of sorts through which the UK and the US will attempt to decrease crime within their own constituencies by regulating it in Jamaica. I suggest ‘regulate’ rather than ‘eliminate’ as the planned infrastructure from both governments appears to be more about controlling movement of people deemed ‘criminal’ rather than creating conditions to lessen the occurrence of criminal behaviour. The prison will keep Jamaican prisoners inside and away from UK territory while the FBI office will prevent potential criminals before making their way onto US soil. We need to consider what is at stake here. The heavy-handed presence of imperial powers has implications for personal and national freedoms, however tenuous, not just in Jamaica but the Caribbean as a whole. The question is, are we willing to move on this? Even within the Caribbean, there is still the sense that some have overstayed their welcome. Hundreds of Jamaican nationals have been deported from CARICOM countries over the past five years, many for staying past the allowed six-month period. It has resulted in the suspicion of Jamaican visitors as officials fear they are abusing the freedom of movement that Article 45 of the Treaty of Chaguaramas allows. Nonetheless, if the economic superpowers of the world continue to shut us out, all we have as a region is each other. And, if not that, then where do we go from here?