Around the world, COVID-19 has forced countries into a sudden reckoning with their most primary fragilities. It cannot be beaten by drone strikes or intimidated by economic prowess. The bold virus seems undaunted by the rhetoric of world leaders or the size of their armies. So as COVID-19 spreads, many comment on the apparently rare commonality of the crisis: the global population is united in its exposure to this threat.
Whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I understand it as well-intended naivety.
The world now shares a common enemy, but that enemy does not pose an equal threat to all of us.
Over 20,000 refugees live in Camp Moria on the island of Lesvos in Greece. This camp was initially built for around 3,000. Overcrowding means many do not even have shelter. There is no stable water supply, and little access to essentials like soap or clean toilets. Many residents already suffer from long-term health problems and damaged immune systems due to the horrendous living conditions, which earlier this year prompted the UN to call for the evacuation of the entire camp. Greece has more wealth and infrastructure than a number of other countries in which large refugee camps can be found. However, Camp Moria occupants suffer the same challenges in accessing essential services as millions of other forcibly displaced people: the state feels little obligation to assist them. They are not citizens, cannot vote, and struggle to generate income for themselves whilst living in the camps. Those who argue that the state should help refugees are dismissed for lacking understanding of economic realities. Consequently, the conditions in refugee camps remain poor, and self-isolation and ‘social distancing’ sound like the figment of a privileged imagination.
In Camp Moria, the reluctance of governments to help refugees is particularly acute. In 2015, images of survivors from the Syrian civil war flooded the media, and the world prayed for those escaping to Europe on hopeless inflatable rafts. On the island, kind locals would often greet the refugees with food and blankets. Yet, as the years have passed, attitudes have changed. Restrictive asylum and immigration laws across Europe have meant that those living in Moria cannot leave. This has not deterred new arrivals to the camp, but has instead caused the population to surge, upsetting some locals. Refugees have faced verbal and physical abuse; new boats are kicked away from the beaches and refugees have been left at sea, hundreds currently abandoned on a Greek Navy ship in the harbour. The right-leaning Greek government would receive little reward if it were to spend money supporting this unpopular refugee population. Instead, the little infrastructure which does exist for them is almost entirely dependent on NGOs.
Healthcare clinics run by organisations such as Médecins sans Frontières and Kitrinos have seen tens of thousands of patients. Shelter is built by humanitarians. In 2018 Human Rights Watch estimated that only 15% of asylum seeking children in the Aegaen Islands were enrolled in formal, state-provided education, indicating the importance of charity run education centres. Legal services and women’s centres for the most vulnerable residents are run by volunteers. Camp occupants rely on NGOs for survival. However, now even their work is under threat.
As COVID-19 spreads, many organisations have been forced to cease providing essential services in refugee camps. Following the Ebola outbreaks in West Africa and the Congo, there is recent experience within NGOs of handling epidemics, but there is increasingly limited capacity to share this knowledge. The cancellation of major fundraising events such as music festivals and marathons, along with the closure of charity shops and the overall economic turmoil caused by the virus in the Global North, has created severe restrictions on NGO funds. Tight border controls and cancelled flights have prevented humanitarians from travelling to the camps. Healthcare professionals are especially cautious of travel restrictions, as often they are only able to volunteer for a few weeks before returning to their regular duties. On Lesvos, this fear is compounded by recent reports of violence against humanitarians, including doctors, from some locals, who believe providing care to refugees encourages more to arrive.
Yet these external factors pulling NGOs out of refugee camps are greatly assisted by a push from within the camps themselves. Before the Greek government imposed border closures and self-isolation for new arrivals, healthcare NGOs in Camp Moria had already been telling international humanitarians not to enter the camp. In Facebook groups for volunteers on the island, posts by organisations looking for enthusiastic helpers have been replaced with repeated pleas for all foreigners to stay away.
In spite of the vital services NGOs provide, they cannot protect camp residents from COVID-19. There are no walls to hide behind, no materials to wash the virus from hands or surfaces, and very little healthcare infrastructure to support those who fall ill. Whilst the governments of the Global North accept that the virus will infect many and practice damage limitation, the defencelessness of Moria residents means the most viable response to the crisis is to stop it from reaching the camp altogether. No cases have been recorded so far, but it may be just a matter of time.
NGOs and residents left in the camp now prepare the desperate last lines of defence against the virus. Volunteers sew masks, distribute hand sanitiser, and build emergency shelters. The very few remaining healthcare professionals work tirelessly to identify the most vulnerable residents in the hope they may be evacuated by the UNHCR in the coming weeks. But where can they be sent? The European Union’s increasingly isolationist member states changed laws to prevent most refugees moving further into the continent in 2016. Greece stopped processing new asylum claims in late February due to disputes with the Turkish government over border controls for refugees. This policy has now been extended because of the virus. The residents of Camp Moria cannot self-isolate, but they live in quarantine from a global society which does not want to help them. This was a quarantine imposed long-before COVID-19.
Faced with their own mortality, the Global North may be forgiven for their inwards focus on protecting the people they love. Evidence of self-preservation tactics can be found on empty supermarket shelves across Europe and North America. Yet, the lack of attention afforded to the suffering of those distant from ourselves is not a symptom of this virus. Despite recent, significant increases in the European refugee population, the media coverage of their struggle peaked half a decade ago. A devastating image of drowned three-year-old Alan Kurdi, found face down on a beach, caused temporary outrage, but after a while the harsh reality of the refugee experience was no longer shocking news. Meanwhile, governments have produced countless excuses to absolve themselves of their duty to humanity. Language was sanitised; ‘refugees’ seeking safety became known as ‘migrants’ seeking economic gain. Elections, referenda, economic crises, internal scandals; the press is constantly filled with distractions, all making it easier for people to forget the pain felt beyond their own borders. There never seems to be a convenient time to spare a thought for those trapped in refugee camps like Moria.
Except, perhaps, when we are all trapped.
As politicians, public figures, and those singing along to “Imagine” tell us we must protect the most vulnerable, the perfect moment has arisen to emphasise that there are no national boundaries on vulnerability. We should use this crisis to inspire empathy for those who have been in lockdown for years. In the Global North, isolation will end with the conclusion of the epidemic. If there is no change in European immigration law, or the speed at which asylum claims are processed, the residents of Camp Moria will remain forcibly isolated indefinitely. We must ensure that refugees will be able to share in our renewed appreciation for freedom when this crisis is over. Indeed, COVID-19 may only be remembered as a global enemy if we are all able to find unity in celebrations of its defeat.