- (Thessaloniki, 29/09/17) A Tale of Two Cities: Referenda in Catalunya and Erbil 30th September 2017
- A Spectre is haunting Europe; but not the one you may think 27th September 2017
- Cameron’s Folly: Libya, and the importance of looking forward 20th September 2016
- NATO, Libya and when ‘support’ is nothing of the sort… 6th July 2016
- The 10,000: the bitter result of our failure on refugees 14th June 2016
Tag Archives: The Jungle
February 29 2016 was not the greatest day in European history. Fewer than two months into the new year, and just six months since the last time a European government’s police fired on unarmed men, women and children at its border, desperate people fleeing violence and terror had, once again, cast the world’s richest political bloc into political, legal and practical chaos. In its West, police fired teargas at refugees at the Jungle camp, near … Continue reading
As the sun sets on the Jungle, it brings in its wake a sense of exhaustion.
You meet Miri in a tea-shop (in fact, a tent, just as every other ‘location’ at the Jungle is a tent: the restaurants, the medical centre, the women’s centre, the homes, the mosque and the church – all are tents, nothing more). The tea is good, though a cardomam seed within it worries him momentarily.
Not every story you hear from refugees is one of heroism, triumph over adversity, or harrowing despicable mistreatment suffered and overcome to reach a destination.
Hamid, Afghanistan If I could say one thing to the UK government I would say instead of spending so much money on fences and police*, spend it on refugees instead.
In late afternoon, you walk again between the camp’s central point and its eastern edge. In the watery early winter sunlight, and surrounded by thousands of people whose seemingly hopeless situation – unable to return home and unable even to apply to enter the UK – threatens to overwhelm you, you have the sensation of being submerged; of simultaneously being hindered and borne up as if attempting to walk on a sea-bed.
‘I live in a little village by the sea. It is out of the real world. This camp, here, is part of the real world. ‘The real world is dictators. It is trouble, fighting and war. I cannot live near the real world and not be a part of it. I cannot turn away and not be a part of it.’
Osman, Northern Iraq I came here yesterday. I had been in Paris with my family. They went to the UK, but I cannot get to the UK yet, so I had to come here.