The politics of race erupt periodically in Britain. Sometimes the conflagration takes place on the streets: Notting Hill in 1958, Brixton in 1981 and, most recently, in the towns of Oldham, Burnley and Bradford in 2001. Sometimes it is a politician who sparks the fire, as Enoch Powell infamously did with his Rivers of Blood speech. And sometimes unpredictable but catastrophic events – such as the IRA pub bombings of the 1970s or 9/11 – can produce deep unease as fear and insecurity get entangled with concerns about migration and ethnic difference.
Yet, until four or five years ago, most people on the progressive end of the political spectrum believed that underneath these periodic eruptions, long-term socio-economic change was producing a more successfully integrated, less divided and less racist British society. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, in particular, it looked as if the race relations legislation of the post-war period was beginning to bear fruit and that second and third generation ethnic minorities were starting to prosper economically and suffer less discrimination. Debates focused increasingly on citizenship rights and race equality, rather than the pros and cons of immigration, cultural otherness or social cohesion.
Now those progressive certainties look increasingly fragile. Public hostility to asylum seekers has risen year-on-year and the polls consistently report widespread opposition to the government’s immigration policies. Of perhaps greatest concern, the 2004 British Social Attitudes survey reported a sharp increase in the proportion of people prepared to describe themselves as racist. Here was a rich vein of prejudice for the Conservatives to tap into in their general election campaign.
Ultimately, the Conservative ‘dog whistle’ strategy failed. It alerted liberal leaning and moderate opinion to the nasty side of rightwing politics in Britain. But it rattled Labour badly and exposed, once again, how little confidence progressive politicians have on asylum and immigration – not just in the UK, but across the world.
There are at least three reasons for this. First, periods of extensive or accelerated migration cause dislocation and uncertainty. The last decade or so has seen large-scale migration into most advanced capitalist economies, particularly those with tight labour markets, like the UK. There are real economic drivers of public concern.
Second, it is Labour core voters who are most vulnerable to resource competition from lower-skilled migrants. In the past, class-based social solidarities sustained a progressive world-view in which migrants could expect support from organised labour, even if racism was always widespread. Now those forms of solidarity are deeply fractured or non-existent. As ippr research has shown, concern about having to compete for resources underpins much of the public debate. Asylum seekers are widely perceived to be responsible for housing shortages, unemployment or problems in accessing public services such as GP practices. These concerns reflect the reality of disadvantage, despite the substantial progress Labour has made on social justice. And there are spillover effects onto wider race relations, since people do not distinguish between asylum seekers and economic migrants.
Third, the left is theoretically troubled by immigration. Some egalitarians argue that it depresses wages and entrenches the social exclusion of those at the furthest remove from the labour market. Others on the left argue that greater diversity undermines trust, social solidarity and even support for the welfare state.
There is no empirical evidence that unequivocally supports either of these views and a lot that points to opposite conclusions. But the evidence is sufficiently contestable and the issue complex enough for migration to provoke anxiety and soul searching. These are not solid foundations on which to do battle with the right.
There are at least three things that Labour can do to buttress its position on immigration and asylum. First, it should develop a new localism for asylum and immigration policy. In 1999, in response to adverse court rulings and pressures on local authorities in London and the south-east, the government set up a system for dispersing asylum seekers to accommodation around the country. Many towns and cities jumped at the chance to fill empty, unwanted social housing with guaranteed tenants. But the consequence was that asylum seekers were sent to the most hard-pressed, disadvantaged areas – a recipe for social tension. Moreover, the body responsible for sending them was a nationalised service, based in Croydon, with almost no capacity outside of its head office. It ran a Thomas Cook operation – give them a voucher and put them on a bus.
Over the last few years this has begun to change, spurred by the murder of a Kurdish asylum seeker in Sighthill, Glasgow, in 2001. New regional structures and greater local capacity for supporting asylum seekers have been developed. But the government’s strategy for managing asylum seekers and migration flows remains essentially national, based on legislative change and command-and-control delivery chains. This strategy has undoubtedly reduced asylum applications. But it has done almost nothing to tackle community tensions and hostility to asylum seekers.
The government needs to empower local authorities and community groups to manage the issue on the ground. It should enable local players to identify what issues cause most concern (such as housing), give them resources and tools to manage the arrival of asylum seekers and their access to services; promote civic integration through English lessons, voluntary work and other measures; and help them work with the local media and politicians to counter myths.
Economic migration policy would also benefit from greater regional sensitivity. The Scottish executive has successfully pushed the case for policies that can help tackle Scotland’s demographic decline and policymakers in the north-east are also beginning to argue this case.
Second, the government should involve the rest of civil society in a debate about migration, its causes and merits, and the policy trade-offs in respect of jobs and development policy. The CBI at last managed to put its head above the parapet on the benefits of migration during the election campaign. It should be encouraged and cajoled to do more. Ditto the churches and NGOs, who often prefer to attack the government than help it solve problems. New forms of independent statistical collection and policy monitoring might help build public confidence in the system.
Finally, the government should change its communication strategy. At a national level, the government has to continue reforming the asylum and immigration system to make sure it works properly and fairly. No government should duck that responsibility (as the French socialists did, for example, on the Sangatte camp). But it must change its rhetoric. If all the public hears is tough talk, people will continue to believe there is a problem. Political rhetoric may legitimise the symbolic use of asylum as a signifier for wider social discontent by holding up a mirror to public fears. And as politicians are not trusted to solve the perceived problem, the strategy is ultimately self-defeating.
In recent months, the government has turned the heat down on asylum rhetoric. It should keep it there, quietly reforming, explaining why people need protection from persecution and working out new localist communication strategies. It should simply ignore the poison from the Daily Express – that will only stop when it no longer sells newspapers, and not before. A Labour government will never get credit or respite from the rightwing press on asylum and immigration.
Offering new political leadership on asylum and immigration is difficult. There are real public concerns and substantive policy challenges that the government has to address. Its critics should recognise that. But the government has to shift as well.