It starts with the language; words like ‘infest’ and ‘hordes’ and ‘armies’, words that weave images of war and plague. The language seeps into our hearts and minds, like some toxic incantation that transforms human beings fleeing for their lives, men, women and children, into an invasion force come to rape and pillage. “They’re here to take our women, they’re here to take our jobs” yell the tabloids; after all, it gets votes and ad-clicks, no matter how distorted or untrue the screaming gets. This is the era of Fake News after all, and people profit from it, people gain power from making conspiracy theories a new gospel. Never bet against the darker angels of our nature; the race starts with the language and ends with kids in cages, or worse. Memesmiths are happy to shape reality, to turn London into the mythical Londonistan, to augment reality with toxic hallucinations, to grow fat on clicks and likes.
If you fight monsters, take care lest ye become a monster. That’s doubly true if the monsters you’re fighting don’t exist.
And yet I’ve met migrants and asylum seekers and refugees. I don’t work on a border or in a camp; I make no claims to nobility. That’s the point – I’ve met asylum seekers at work, people who just want to get an education, to learn English or Business or Engineering. They have families and aspirations, they have hopes and a sense of humour. They’re ordinary, albeit forged in extraordinary circumstances that I wouldn’t want to face. And that’s why we need to stand with migrants and refugees, because we’re all human and we need to look after each other. Don’t sell your soul in return for outrage. Cut through the rhetoric and the rants, shout down the prejudice and profiteering, because we’re one and it’s a sin to sacrifice our brothers and sisters to the idolatry of lines on a map.
We live in dangerous times, shadows that once crept around corners now coalescing into a cold eclipse. Injustice and hatred have their sway, and despite the cries of “This isn’t who we are!”, the dirty secret of history is that that atrocities are committed by those who would have once thought themselves incapable of it.
Right now it’s Christmas. Peace on Earth, goodwill to all, but the comments sections are terrifying; today I saw migrants described as a bio-weapon. Mention that Jesus was a migrant, that he was descended from at least one migrant, and the walls go up – “That’s not the same!” Of course it’s not the same, it’s never the same; history doesn’t repeat and yet it sure as hell rhymes. It’s Christmas, but I’m scared; we can’t wait another five months for Pentecost to transform our words and with it our actions.
And so we need to stand together, stand together and be caring, be compassionate, be kind. Bad times start with language, but so do good, so speak words of hope, of humour, of peace and mercy and grace and welcome. Use words to cast visions, not curses; speak kindly of your neighbour, speak well of those fleeing the armies that arrived or the rains that didn’t. All the Never Agains started with people like us, for good or ill, and so we face the eternal choice. Be good. Be humane. Be kind.