Tag Archives: refugees

An unpleasant truth

Amnesty International has just published a new report on the situation of refugees in the world as I learned from the media. It is a depressing but extremely important document in my opinion.

One of the most shocking facts:

Ten countries (Jordan, Turkey, Pakistan, Lebanon, Iran, Ethiopia, Kenya, Uganda, Democratic Republic of Congo and Chad) host 56 percent of all the refugees in the world, and none of them is a rich Western country where so many people complain aggressively about being “flooded” by refugees. And these ten countries receive very insufficient support from most of the rich countries in dealing with the problems this causes to them.

It seems that many in the Western world prefer to see these people drown or dropped on some godforsaken isolated island in appalling conditions for the rest of their lives than to stop interventions that will increase the number of refugees in the future even more or to help those ten countries on a much larger scale as now. What a shame!

Considering the fact that the reasons for the wars and civil wars from which these people flee were mainly created by exactly those countries who complain most about the refugees, I am quite sure that history books in a hundred years (if mankind is still around by then) will mention this phenomenon as an example for the total moral corruption of the Western world and one of the reasons for its fast imminent decline we are obviously facing.

© Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com, 2014-6. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

News from Retardistan (6): “Citizen Arrest”

My opinion on the so-called “citizen arrest” of refugees/migrants by self-proclaimed vigilante groups in Bulgaria (which consist mainly of criminal thugs with a long track record of delinquency, and of other “subjects” from the dregs of the Bulgarian society):

The so-called “citizen arrest”, the detention of people who cross the border by citizens who are not part of the police forces or other entitled state organs, is a criminal act – as is obvious by the law, and by the statements of the Bulgarian Attorney General and by the Ministry of Interior. It is according to the Bulgarian Penal Code a criminal offence, punishable with up to six years prison. The vigilante are obviously criminals, and those who applaud their actions are applauding the actions of criminals.

It is up to the relevant authorities alone to exercise law and order. It is up to the relevant authorities alone to decide if someone that entered the country has broken any law by doing so. It is up to the relevant authorities alone to decide if someone has a right to stay in the country or not. It is up to the relevant authorities alone to decide if someone will be granted asylum or not.

A constitutional state can under no circumstances allow that self-proclaimed groups arm themselves and declare themselves as taking over part of the tasks and responsibilities of the government and the state institutions of the executive power. A constitutional state must guarantee at all times that he and he alone exercises the sole executive power and must guarantee at all times that the constitutional rights and human rights of Bulgarian citizens and all other people are respected and that they are protected by the law at all times. A constitutional state has a monopoly on the using of force and violence within clearly defined legitimate limits; any group or person who is acting outside this framework and without legitimacy must be considered a criminal and put on trial.

Politicians that promote or encourage such groups show that they are openly supporting criminal acts against people and against the constitutional system of Bulgaria. It goes without saying that such politicians are not fit for service; in case they have an office, they must immediately step down and face the legal consequences of their words and actions.

The relevant law enforcement institutions need to urgently scrutinize this obvious breach of the law by Bulgarian politicians. That goes also for politicians like Prime Minister Boyko Borisov, who must step down immediately after his unsupportable statements and actions in this context, but also for ex-president Parvanov, or for ex-Foreign Minister Passy, and many others who openly support and promote criminal groups. (I am not even mentioning here for obvious reasons the ATAKA nutcases, the VMRO racists, the DPS mutra cronies and the so-called “patriots” from the right and left parties, whose activities should be also for many other reasons scrutinized by the law enforcement agencies.)

I am truly shocked by the huge support the bloodthirsty thugs who hunt down refugees and other people in Bulgaria who don’t look sufficiently “Bulgarian” with machetes, clubs, and other murder weapons have in public and social media and in all layers of Bulgarian society. The level of verbal and physical brutality, the open racism I witness every time I am in Bulgaria against minorities and vulnerable groups is deeply disturbing and I have recently more and more moments when I am becoming very pessimistic regarding the long-term perspectives for this country, which seems – as I think now frequently – to have lost its soul, heart and ethics. And even its mind. 

© Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com, 2014-6. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Защо? Защо? Защо?

Аз съм живял и работил в Германия, Полша, Мароко, Албания, Косово, Турция, Сирия, Йордания, Египет, Индонезия, Казахстан и България. Имам приятели и познати във всички тези и много други държави.

Моля някой да ми обясни защо трябва да чете истински потоп от расистки и ксенофобски мнения срещу бежанци изключително от моите български контакти – а не от някой друга страна? Защо това количество безумна омраза, презрение и подлост от много българи, които не се чувстват дори да се срамувам от тяхното отвратителен манталитет?

Защо? Защо? Защо?

© Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com, 2014-5. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Men in the Sun

That people are leaving their home countries because they want to find a better life somewhere else is a phenomenon that is probably as old as mankind itself. But to me it seems that the extent and speed of this migration has increased a lot in the 20th and 21st centuries beyond anything experienced before.

Apart from the increase of the number of migrants, there is something else that puzzles me about this development: the cynicism and application of double standards towards migrants. While those of “us” westerners who work for some time or permanently abroad (like the writer of these lines) are usually labeled “expatriates”, the words that are used to characterize someone who for good reasons is looking for work in a wealthy country of the West are “economic migrant”, “poverty migrant”, “illegal immigrant”, “asylum shopper” – and these are still the more friendly terms.

When during the existence of the Iron Curtain migration from Eastern Europe was extremely limited, and those who tried to flee were leaving their countries in very dangerous circumstances, these migrants were branded as heroes and freedom fighters who wanted to leave behind a terrible communist dictatorship; now when the same people leave their places for the same reason – an unbearable situation for themselves and their families – they are usually downgraded linguistically a lot.

And those who flee by boat via the Mediterranean to Europe, or to Australia via the Indian Ocean: they all could be saved, but better let them drown so that less of “them” cause “us” any trouble…Welcome to the world of hypocrisy! – the same world that doesn’t give a damn about the civilians and children that fall victim to the drone assassinations of the “West” and starts a discussion about the moral implications of this extra-legal killings on a large scale only in that moment when some of the victims happen by chance to be one of “us” (i.e. Christians from Western countries).

Forced migration, ethnic cleansing, the attempt to cross borders in search for a better life, and the situation of exile in general are important topics of the literature of the last decades. The story Men in the Sun by the Palestinian author Ghassan Kanafani is a classic in this respect.  

Three Palestinian men that lost their homes in Palestine during the events of 1947/48 (the Naqba, or catastrophe, as it is called by the victims) are in the center of the story. They lead a rather miserable life without any perspective in the huge refugee camps in Jordan, Iraq and other Arab countries. (As an aside: also the Arab countries apply double standards; while “the Palestinians” are usually considered the victims of Zionism/Imperialism, most of the real Palestinians are less welcome by these countries and still live in refugee camps, decades after their eviction. Only Jordan granted the majority of them citizen rights.)

Kuwait, in the early 1960s developing its oil industry, was in this moment for many of these men a kind of Promised Land. Once you made it there (illegally), you had – with a little bit of luck, connections and backshish – a chance to get an employment based on a temporary contract. A unique opportunity to support your beloved one’s in the refugee camps, pay for a decent education for your siblings, or prepare to get married.

Basra in Iraq was at that time the place from which many small groups left to make their way past the border guards through the desert. Smuggling refugees was (and is) a very profitable business, and so we witness our three main characters looking for an affordable and reliable guide.

Kanafani made a very good decision to introduce each of the three men, their background and their way of thinking, their different character and outlook on life in a separate chapter.

There is Abu Quais, the oldest of the group. A farmer by profession, who is missing his olive trees in Palestine and who hopes to make enough money in Kuwait to be able to buy saplings for a new olive grove somewhere. In his fatalistic, a bit stubborn way he seems very characteristic for the Palestinian peasant, or the peasant in general.

Then there is young Marwan, who stands up to the financial demands of a particular unpleasant businessmen who insists on a high advance payment and no guarantee for success for the undertaking. Marwan quickly emerges as the unofficial leader of the small group, and we can almost be sure that with his energy and optimism, he can be very successful in Kuwait – if he gets there at all of course. 

And then there is the good-hearted, naive Assad. After his brother stopped to send money from Kuwait (he got married and supports his own small family now), he had to stop his studies and tries to get now also to Kuwait.

And there is of course the guide, Abul Khiazuran, who promises to smuggle them in the water tank of his truck through the border checkpoints. If only it wouldn’t be so terribly hot in the empty water tank – but it will be ok, if they don’t have to wait very long at the checkpoints. Otherwise…

For the reader it is not a surprise that this journey ends in a disaster. When the driver pulls out the bodies of the three men after the border crossing, he – like the reader – is asking himself a startling question:

“The thought slipped from his mind and ran onto his tongue: “Why didn’t they knock on the sides of the tank?” He turned right round once, but he was afraid he would fall, so he climbed into his seat and leaned his head on the wheel. “Why didn’t you knock on the sides of the tank? Why didn’t you say anything? Why? – The desert suddenly began to send back the echo: “Why didn’t you knock on the sides of the tank? Why didn’t you knock on the sides of the tank? Why? Why? Why?”

What struck me also about this story was the deep symbolism of the fact that the bodies are deposed at a garbage dump; this is how much a refugee’s life is worth. And also the fact that the driver lost his manhood literally as a result of his fight with the Israelis, and is now interested in only one thing: money is of course also charged with a symbolic meaning.

One more thing: there are no antisemitic slurs in any of Kanafani’s stories of this collection of stories. Sure, the Jews/Israelis are the enemies of these people; those who are responsible for the loss of their homes, their miserable lives in the refugee camps, and the loss of many lives too. But the enemy is not a demon, just someone who took away the land and existence of people who have lived in Palestine for hundreds of years.

The other stories in this collection are also very good; I was particular impressed by The Land of Sad Oranges, a short story about a family who is forced to flee their home and escape to Lebanon. The few oranges that they can take with them make them cry; a memory of what they lost and will probably never see again.

Ghassan Kanafani (born 1936) was one of the most talented Arabic prose writers. Born in Palestine, he had to leave his home at the age of 12 and shared many experiences of the people in his stories. He became also a political activist and joined the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine of George Habash. Fortunately, his work is not that of a political propagandist; it shows the suffering of the people of Palestine, and asks for empathy from its readers, not for agreement with a political program.

Kanafani was killed by a car-bomb explosion in 1972 in Beirut, together with his niece. Nowadays the assassination would have been executed by a drone. I suppose some people may call that “progress”.

Kanafani

Ghassan Kanafani, Men in the Sun and Other Palestinian Stories, translated by Hilary Kilpatrick, Lynne Rienner Publishers, Boulder 1998

© Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com, 2014-5. Unauthorized use and/or 
duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Judgement

A few days ago, during my last visit in Sofia, I had an opportunity to watch an interesting Bulgarian feature film (co-produced by Germany, Croatia and Macedonia); therefore today a film, not a book review.

Borders are a sad reality for many people; especially for those who want to cross them and can’t – but frequently also for those who protect them or live near a border. It is one of the twisted ironies of recent European history that just when we all thought that with the fall of the Iron Curtain barriers that prevent people from traveling freely (and where you are shot at or even killed just because you want to exercise an elementary human right) are a thing of the past, new obstacles are being erected and sometimes even in the same places where the old borders were.

But now, the direction from which people want to cross to another country is frequently reverse: while the Southern border of Bulgaria to Greece and Turkey was heavily protected in the time of communism in order to prevent people from leaving the Eastern block via the Rhodopi mountains, the same area is now guarded and fenced against refugees from Syria and other Mediterranean and African countries who desperately try to come to Bulgaria and the European Union.

Stephan Komandarev, a Bulgarian film director best known for his adaptation of Ilija Trojanow’s novel Die Welt ist gross und Rettung lauert überall (The World is Big and Salvation Lurks Around the Corner) tells in his new movie The Judgement (Съдилището) the story of a man whose life is virtually destroyed by the border.

Mityo (Assen Blatechki), a widower in his 40s, lives alone with his son, 18-year old Vasko (Ovanes Torosian) in a small village in the Bulgarian Rhodopes, near the Greek and Turkish border. Fanka, Mityo’s wife died after years of illness, and the relationship between father and son is strained for various reasons which become clear while the story unfolds.

The film takes its time to show Mityo, Vesko, and the other villagers in their daily life. The village is poor, and when the local dairy factory for which Mityo is collecting the milk from the local farmers with his cistern truck is closing and leaving him jobless, the situation becomes pretty desperate for him. That the electricity is switched off because of his unpaid bills is a very small problem – but how he is supposed to pay back the mortgage on the small house where he is living with his son which he took years ago to pay for Fanka’s unsuccessful medical treatment, is something about which he has no idea. An attempt to sell his truck fails and when someone turns up to prepare the house to be auctioned off in a few weeks time for the bank, it is obvious that Mityo is in dire straits. Finally he gives in reluctantly to work for a man that everyone knows as The Captain (Miki Manojlovic), since he is a former commanding officer of the border troops in that area during the time of Communism.

The work Mityo has to do is to help to bring illegal immigrants over the mountains to Bulgaria, a work for which he is paid well because it is rather dangerous. Not only because of the danger to be spotted by the border guards, but also because the path through the mountains is rather challenging, especially the area near by a dangerous cliff that is also known as The Judgement.

As the story advances, Vesko finds out that his father was as a young man not only serving in the border troop unit of the Captain, but also that he is hiding a dark secret. Once, in 1988, he killed a young East German couple that tried to flee over the mountains, exactly at the spot called The Judgement.

The movie focuses strongly on the father-son conflict and I found it psychologically very interesting how Mityo tries to come to terms with his past. The Captain forced him at gunpoint to shoot at the refugees and to toss the bodies over the cliff (while the girl was probably still alive). After this traumatic experience, Mityo had a mental breakdown but was saved as he describes it by his future wife Fanka.

Finally, when his son presents him the evidence of his involvement in the killing of the young couple, Mityo reveals everything to his son and it seems a kind of relief for him. When he is going on a last dangerous assignment, things go terribly wrong in the moment when the group (this time with the Captain and also Vesko, who was called for help by his father) arrives at The Judgement cliff.

I liked about the movie that it starts comparatively slow-paced. Although the father-son conflict and later the conflict between Mityo and the Captain are the most important lines of the story, there are also some other credible and interesting characters that add to the flavor of this movie. Vesko develops a close relationship with Maria, a girl in his class. There is also the old doctor, a friend of Mityo who plays a small but somehow important role. There is Kera, a lonely woman living next door to Mityo and his son who tries to get closer to the very distanced Mityo. And there is Zhoro, another mountain guide, who provides the refugees with tea and wafers and who is smart enough to get out of this dangerous business with the Captain in time.

The Captain, Mityo’s nemesis, is a typical product of the times: he was a fanatic in the time of communism who took pride in “defending” his country by shooting those who tried to flee, and now he is a “businessman” with a big brand new car and an impressive fortress of a house. For him, the refugees that he is smuggling across the border are a source of income only. He is without respect for these people he calls contemptuously “garbage” (боклуци), and when the last group reaches The Judgement while fleeing from the border guards, he asks Mityo to throw a sick child down the cliff because it slows down the group too much. But times have changed now, Mityo is not the same person he used to be as a young recruit…

Shooting Stefan Komandarev’s the Judgment Photo BGNES

Actors and dialogues in this movie are excellent (I hope also the translation/dubbing will be very good). You will see also breathtaking panoramas of the Rhodopi mountains, a truly magical place.

The movie asks very interesting questions about – not only – Bulgaria’s past and shows how ordinary people are burdened by it (even the generation that was born after the changes); how to come to terms with personal guilt and how to learn to talk about the most haunting experiences in life with those who are closest to you. A deeply human story that you shouldn’t miss when you have the opportunity to watch it. I can strongly recommend it without reservations.

The Judgement starts in 60 movie theaters in Germany (the biggest number of copies ever for a Bulgarian movie in Germany) under the title The Judgement – Grenze der Hoffnung on April 23. The film will be distributed hopefully also in your country. It was recently also screened on many international film festivals, so chances you can watch it soon are probably not so bad.

I watched the movie in Bulgarian without subtitles – and I had the whole cinema for myself, there were no other people. Quite an interesting experience.

The official website of the film: http://www.thejudgementmovie.bg

© Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com, 2014-5. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Thomas Hübner and mytwostotinki.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. © photo BGNES