A Story from the Schengen Periphery
Blog Editor’s Note
By Barbara Gornik, Science and Research Centre Koper
The image of a razor-wire fence generally evokes connotations associated with oppression, incarceration, loss of freedom, and political violence. Ironically, several border areas in the European Union – a union that has always had a tendency to present itself as a political community where human rights are fully respected – are enclosed by razor-wire fences, with the aim of preventing people’s movement. How is it possible that on the threshold of the 21st century, when we live in the so-called “Age of the Rights”, such political actions are maintained? I claim it is because of the profound transformation of the meaning of the razor-wire fence that empties its violent character and endows it with new implications, including those related to humanitarianism, human rights, and the rule of law. The Slovenian story of the razor- wire fence serves as an example to demonstrate how this transformation of meaning, evident in the semantic contingency of a razor-wire fence, manifests at the level of political practice.
The story of the Slovenian razor-wire fence begins in the last months of 2015, when the Republic of Slovenia encountered large numbers of migrants on a daily basis. The Hungarian closure of the green borders in October led to the Balkan route being diverted to Slovenia. 326,956 refugees crossed Slovenian territory between 20 October and 15 December 2015 and continued their way towards Austria. The situation was unprecedented and resembled a state of emergency. It was in this context that Slovenian Prime Minister Miro Cerar announced the decision to build the razor-wire fence along the southern border. By 14 December 2015, 135 kilometres of fence had been installed by the police, army, fire brigade and external service providers. Despite the guarantee that this is a temporary measure, the razor-wire fence along Slovenia’s southern border still stands there today.
The argument that accompanied the installation of the razor-wire fence in Slovenia in 2015 was undoubtedly an attempt to transform the experience of violence. Prime Minster Cerar maintained that the razor-wire fence is not there to exclude refugees, but to safeguard their lives by preventing their dispersed movement across unsafe green borders and by directing them to entry points where they can be effectively supplied and assisted (GRS 2015c). He encouraged the public to endorse these humanitarian principles and addressed the whole nation, saying that “It is very important to show that we are in solidarity with refugees, that we are open, and willing to approach without a fear these people, who are coming to Europe in distress” (GRS 2015a). Engaging with this humanitarian discourse, he pointed out that “In the upcoming winter when temperatures are getting lower, there may be a real humanitarian disaster in our territory if we do not take appropriate measures; because if there are so many refugees in Slovenia that we cannot guarantee them, as we can guarantee them now, suitable temporary accommodation conditions, food, water, adequate clothing, then there can be serious consequences” (GRS 2015c).
The example of Cerar shows that no power presents itself as fundamentally bad. On the contrary, every power essentially appears as beneficent power with an objective of doing good. He acted like a protector with a principal aim to take care of refugees, to ensure their security and rights. His attitude toward refugees outdid the obligation to ensure “merely surviving and not dying”. It was defined by an aim to guarantee their “living and doing better than just living” (Foucault 2007:421). Such a position enabled the razor-wire fence to appear as a necessity that would contribute to better respect of refugees’ rights by permitting only as many refugees to enter as acceptable in proportion to the state’s capacity to protect their rights.
Cerar’s logic was simple but far-reaching: unrestrained arrivals of refugees lead to infringement of their rights because the Slovenian state has insufficient capacity to accommodate high numbers of refugees in line with the requirements stemming from legally binding human rights treaties. However, this line of reasoning is paradoxical: it is because they are entitled to human rights that they would not be admitted to the territory to enact their rights. Furthermore, such position situated the government as the responsible one, one that respects obligations stemming from international human rights law and is guided by ethics of care for refugees and principles of humanitarianism.
In the same way, Cerar committed to safeguard the rights of Slovenian citizens. He repeatedly highlighted that the Republic of Slovenia cannot welcome unlimited number of refugees, that “We have to do all that is in our power to prevent the collapse of the system” and “Protect the rights of the citizens and the normal functioning of the state” (GRS, 2015c). By linking the razor-wire fence to the need to protect citizens’ rights and public order, he endowed it with a virtuous meaning. On the other hand, refugees were increasingly being seen as a potentially dangerous force that can hamper citizens’ rights, the nation’s liberal institutions and democracy. Ignoring exclusion as one of the key outcomes of his political decision significantly modified the meaning of the razor-wire fence. More and more, the fence was seen as a protective measure, while nobody cared that it justified the exclusion of refugees in advance, not because they had done anything harmful and jeopardized society, but because government rhetoric portrayed them as suspects, who might have the potential to do something damaging.
The meaning of the razor-wire fence was converted in yet another view: it was evoked as a measure that protects the rule of law. It was depicted as a tool for directing refugees to the entry points on the border and, hence, as a tool for enforcing control over irregular migration. Irregular migrants entering the European Union without meeting requirements were unambiguously articulated as violators of law. As a consequence, refugees became considered with mistrust and suspicion that they were ‘false refugees’, that they were economic migrants taking advantage of the European asylum system on the pretence of seeking international protection. The pressure to regain control over state borders was even more acute in light of the fact that, being a country on the periphery of the Schengen area, Slovenian authorities are entrusted with responsibility to protect and control the external borders of the European Union (GRS 2015b). The staging of the discourse concerning security and irregular migration has further legitimized the use of the razor-wire fence and emphasized its role in providing protection of the national and European legal order and ensuring the rule of law.
The government’s endeavour to redefine the razor-wire fence was also seen from the fact that government representatives avoided the use of the term “razor-wire fence”. Instead, they used the term “technical obstacle”. They have used it as a euphemism, which made the violent reality of exclusion less visible and allowed them to say the same thing in different way, in a more politically correct manner. “Razor-wire fence” is too explicitly related to violence, whereas “technical obstacle” appears without immediate negative associations. The effect of this political operation, or its aim at least, is the transformation of the experience of violence, which allows politicians to distance themselves from moral disputability of their actions, endows the razor-wire fence with innocence and mystifies its ultimate effect.
No need to be emphasised, but nevertheless – the violence of the razor-wire fence should be understood not only as physical violence but as an action that contributes to maintaining unequal power and life chances (Galtung 1969) and unequal opportunities (Jones 2017). As Jones (ibid.) argues, the violence in relation to controlling and preventing people’s movement must be viewed in its function of upholding social hierarchies, increasing the chance of injury or death, depriving or limiting access to territory and to resources through an enclosure. Razac (2005) moreover points to the violent character of the fence, saying that barbed wire is not the same on both sides: on one side rights are nourished and life sustained, while on the other side the repelled undesirable lives are left to a precarious state of existence and destined to struggle for survival outside public institutions and membership. And, borrowing again from Galtung (1969), if people – in our case, refugees – are not adequately protected when this is objectively possible, then we can say that violence is committed.
What does this say about us as a society? Attempts to redefine the meaning of razor-wire fences are not new. Throughout history, razor-wire has proven ambiguous in the meanings with which it has been invested. As seen in the earliest advertisements of barbed wire in the 19th century, analysed by Bennett and Abbot (2014), the advertisements promoted “American progress” and an ordered and secured domestic landscape. In the Nazi concentration camps, the barbed wire was likewise there, in the words of Adolf Eichmann, one of the chief architects of the Holocaust, to “fulfil the duty for our blood, for our people, and for the liberty of all people” (Bascomb 2010:88). Similarly, the razor- wire fence found at various points along the Schengen border is seen as a tool to protect the interests of the EU and its member states, democracy and human rights. What can be concluded is that, for the time being, European politicians and society as a whole are unwilling to critically reflect on the ethical implications of the razor-wire fence and take up the political responsibility for their actions. As in the past, the razor wire-fence remains a political artefact, an essential explanatory factor of the political action, against which generations of our descendants will learn about the morals, values, and attitudes of our societies; that is, societies from the so-called “Age of the Rights”.