The New Statesman recently visited refugee sites in Calais, interviewing would-be asylum seekers and seeking their reasons for risking their lives on small boats to reach the UK.
‘In the UK, a number of questions and assumptions have been voiced concerning migrants and immigration policy, some more cynical than others. The loudest assumption is that a large proportion of the migrants of northern France are “economic migrants”. Of everyone we spoke to, only one stated that he had left because of the job market. The rest recalled genocidal militias, air strikes, repressive regimes, religious persecution, torture, mutilation and death.
But the “economic migrants” critique obscures the obvious reality that a person can be both in need of work and fleeing for their life. This is true of Maahir, who wants to become a nurse, and Mahmoud, the Palestinian who wants to become a lawyer. Safety and prosperity are not mutually exclusive.
Another question asked is why don’t migrants choose to claim asylum in the first “safe” country they reach? Well, many already do – both Spain and Italy received more asylum claims than the UK last year. And following the question’s logic, if everyone settled immediately, they would all simply bottleneck in Europe’s border countries (some of which, according to rights groups, are not safe for migrants). Migrants also don’t always enjoy the luxury of choice. Maahir was denied asylum in Germany and handed a deportation order. Hope, an Ethiopian single mother, was halfway across the Channel with her son when the boat’s engine cut out, and the Maritime Gendarmerie towed it all the way back. She’s now considering staying in France, though speaks fluent English.
Why do migrants want to come to the UK? This one’s complicated, as many don’t. The demography of successful asylum applications in France leans towards Francophone African countries (as well as Ukraine and Afghanistan). Likewise, the majority of migrants we spoke with cited culture, language and decency as key reasons for choosing the UK. Usually there are historical ties.
“Don’t forget that Britain was an integral part of Libya,” noted Rami, a former journalist who fled Benghazi after a militia began threatening his family. Many of these migrants are headed for England in part because they believe it can’t be worse than their experiences in France, Spain or Italy. But that’s an assumption; they can’t be certain.
In the camps around Calais, migrants cling to an idealised Britain – a country few of them have ever been to. “You are treated as a human being… you are not defined by your religion or nationality,” says Rami, whose belief is based on previous interactions with British people. Time and again, Britain is painted as a country of minimal racism and unparalleled societal integration. It is an idea largely intuited, much like Britons’ assumptions about migrants: on both sides of the Channel people chat with friends, they watch the Premier League, they scroll through TikTok and Instagram. It’s possible Nigel Farage will win the next election, and turn Britain into a country of mass detention and deportation – a place where asylum is banned. Perhaps then migrants will think about the UK differently. Perhaps we all will.’
The Statesman describes the squalid and inhumane conditions of the Calais “camp”, which Maahir, a Syrian refugee, describes as “the graveyard of dreams”. The former athlete and lifeguard would like to train as a nurse and rejoin his sister, who has cancer.
https://www.newstatesman.com/politics/uk-politics/2025/10/the-truth-about-the-small-boats-crisis
