Anonymous migrants

Being called a "migrant" usually indicates that I am a stranger, a foreigner, and socially and culturally different from the so-called host community.

Is this view of me intended to maintain or create a border between those who call others "migrants" and myself?

Isn’t it strange how some people are called "migrants" and others "citizens"? What on earth are we talking about?

I find that this labelling ignores a very human reality: that we are all migrants; to varying degrees, of course, but we are all migrants, just as we are all human beings.

In fact, I think that those who unjustifiably consider me a "migrant" don’t realise that they too are migrants. They are anonymous migrants who have not yet opened the door that will lead them to their migrant being.


Today, Europe is dealing with a challenging situation, with hundreds of thousands of exiles arriving at its doorstep or with nowhere else to go. Certainly, these people will be taken care of, somehow or other, but the European states are not really prepared, Europe is not prepared, neither materially prepared to share its resources nor mentally prepared to keep track of the present-day crisis



Migrants, all of us

As we return to our autumn schedules, Josefa invites us once again to think carefully about our relationship with our migrant humanity, our relationship with our fundamentally migrant nature. It is not about stating an abstract truth, nor about creating a new supercategory called "migrant", but, more simply, more radically, about being open to the possibility of a closer look on "my migration".

By drawing closer to my migration, recognising it as mine, as unique, whether it be free or forced, temporal or spiritual, physical or psychological, in space or in time, I too become part of it: "we are all migrants".

Why should we exclude, discriminate, or categorise a segment of our humanity, those who may be more "migrant" than me?

Why should we claim mobility rights and freedom of movement for ourselves, or even, generously, for others (if at least these "others" have expressed the desire and delegated the request for it), when it concerns that part of our humanity that allows it to move and to evolve? How limiting would my own identity be if it could only be defined or determined for me by others: parents, friends, society, social welfare bodies, defenders of "minorities", politicians, media, enemies, etc.?

Migration is the foundation of our human condition. It concerns all of us, as migrants; it is our destiny. If I am not moving or have stopped moving, if I deny or am denied my "migrant being", by being prevented from migrating, then I am dead to myself and to others, today and tomorrow.

We should, of course, be careful not to mix up everything: not all of us are migrants who have been exiled, forced to flee the land of our birth, of our residence, our land by choice or by preference.

But all of us are potentially, capably, invited to look at ourselves, to discover that we are migrants, which is an essential element of our human condition, our human expression, our human construction.

Challenges or realities: migrants, all of us.



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