Dramaturgie im zeitgenössischen Tanz ist ? positiv gemeint ? ein heißes Eisen. Idealerweise sind Dramaturginnen und Dramaturgen während der Erarbeitung eines Stücks die besten Freunde der Choreografen. more
On February 21, 2005, the New York Times ran a lead article
with the title "More Africans Enter U.S. Than in Days of Slavery". The
comparison is not only offensive (to put it mildly), it is dangerous.
It confirms the feeling that the West has become a receptacle for the
rest of the world's misery and suggests that this must come to an end.
This
sense of tedium may explain the brutality of the events in Ceuta and
Melilla. All around the world, television stations are broadcasting
images of blood-smeared gloves that remain caught on barbed
wire fence, of young Africans in a daze, stumbling across the desert
and – mustn't forget these – of a few good souls distributing bread in
receiving centres. The fact that 19 were killed and hundreds injured in
their desperate storming of the security fence that surrounds
the exclaves – which were immediately heightened to an insurmountable 6
metres – shocked the public less than the unbelievable decision to send
the migrants into the desert and leave them there to die. The
sight of young African men chained together was certain to waken
horrific memories in Africa; this time, the men weren't being dragged
into the West, but rather prevented from going there.
Morocco
has since given up on this inhumane practice but the damage is already
done. And, as in the past, the migrants are being shoved here and there
as though they were trash and not human beings. The two great
fears of the North – terrorism and immigration – have lead to a reflex
that suggests that the protection of "Fortress Europe" has become more important than the protection of human rights, a tradition in which Europeans take such great pride.
The
most recent images of the Spanish-Moroccan border, like the repeating
reports of the barely sea-worthy boats which when they capsize
deposit their human cargo on the shores of Lampedusa, Malta or Cyprus,
create the impression that peaceful, well-heeled Europe is being subjected
to veritable attacks by sub-Saharan Africans. At the same time,
one mustn't forget that almost all poor nations of Asia and Africa are
represented among the blighted boat people; and that, until recently,
it was mainly North Africans that sought entrance to the forbidden paradise of Ceuta and Melilla.
Given
these circumstances, it seems particularly scandalous that Morocco,
Algeria, Libya and Mauritania have been engaged to keep the African
migrants out of Europe. Suddenly we're willing to look past the
repressions that Libyan head of state Ghadhafi is
committing in his own country; and Morocco is taking 40 million euros in
compensation for agreeing to take on the undesirable role of bouncer.
In the longer term, the artificial opposition that's being created
between Maghreb and sub-Saharan Africans, which will compound existing
ethnic delineations, could result in dangerous and increased tensions
within Africa.
In addition to this risk, it's worth asking if
this reaction of panic is even justified. The statistics on attempts at
illegal border crossings do not suggest a coming invasion of Europe
via the Sahara and Mediterranean; in fact the numbers are sinking. In
Spain, 12,000 attempts were registered this year, down from 55,000 last
year; in Italy, it was 3,000, down from 6,350.
One can't get
around the question of why young Africans – often the ones with a
higher level of education – risk their lives for the possibility of
getting to Europe; why they are willing to stand up to heavily armed
soldiers with only stones and fists to defend themselves or why
they dare to board an overloaded rowing boat in order to land what
is likely to be an inferior job and miserable living standards. The
theatre of these miserable exile-candidates, who, like lambs to the
slaughter, are willing to risk fate, is what hurts the most. As an
African, one feels a certain shame looking at them and – I admit it – a
muted rage. People are ready to sacrifice their lives to leave
their homeland, but where is the willingness to serve that country, to
invest a life there, at least in the interest of future generations?
It's hard to understand that.
The temptations of Europe only
partly explain the deadly determination of young African immigrants;
it's as though they've fallen into some kind of a trap.
The
person standing at the foot of the barbed wire fence of Ceuta or
Melilla has left his entire savings in the hands of human smugglers or
bribed border guards. He's travelled thousands of kilometres in
overloaded trucks or on foot, through inhospitable landscapes, has
spent months or even years with his comrades, living from hand to mouth
in improvised camps and dreaming of that leap to Europe. With each day,
their conviction grows that they're going to make it, because they have
to make it; who can accuse these desperate people of nursing illusions when all that lies between them and their new lives is a bit of barbed wire?
In
addition to the impossibility of returning home with empty hands, group
pressure plays a role. One hears many young men saying, "I don't know
what happened to me – it was unbearable but whenever I wanted to give
up, the others forced me to continue." Rather than condemn
these migrants from the perspective of privilege, one should consider
the power of this desperate hope.
While the world's attention
is focused on Ceuta and Melilla, not one African head of state has
protested the treatment of his people; not even the African Union has seen fit to take an official position. One must assume that certain governments even welcome this emigration: fewer mouths to feed
and their remittances are always welcome infusions in their wilting
national economies. In addition, African politicians know that it's
better to hold their tongues if they don't want to annoy their colleagues in Europe.
One
has learned to live with a very high degree of cynicism in Africa; more
regrettable is the passivity of the civil society. One should commend
Aminata Traoré of Mail, a leading figure
in the African anti-globalisation movement, for calling a "Dignity
Parade" on October 14, to be lead by herself and ten colleagues in
Paris, Milan, Madrid and Brussels. But this is a one-off example. On the
whole, Africa does not seem willing to accept those who find themselves
between the borders. Most politicians and intellectuals are steering a wide course around the topic of Ceuta and Melilla.
But
looking away doesn't help anyone and stricter administrative measures
will not solve the migration problem for good. Only with focussed and
long-term policies that address the problems in the countries in origin
will it be possible to reduce the pressure of migration and thus the
possibility that the frustration and desperation in sub-Saharan Africa
could become a real danger to the European community.
*
This article originally appeared in the Neue Zürcher Zeitung on October 21, 2005.
Boubacar Boris Diop,
born 1946 in Senegal, has been an advisor to the Ministry of Culture in
Senegal, Professor of literature and philosophy and journalist and
author, most recently of "Murambi: the Book Remains", on the Rwanda
genocide in 1994.
translation: nb