THE GLOBALIZATION OF INDIFFERENCE

Even while serving as an altar boy in The Netherlands for more than a decade, I seldom really listened carefully to Papal communications emanating from the Vatican. It was not until I recently became aware of Pope Francis' plea to resist the world's temptation to descend into a state of globalized indifference that I paid attention to what he had to say. During a speech on the Italian island of Lampedusa, off the coast of Tunisia, on July 8 of 2013, the pontiff claimed solidarity with the many African migrants who had sought refuge there and remembered those who lost their lives in the attempts. He lamented that we had fallen into a global state of indifference. "We are now accustomed to the suffering of others , but it does not concern us - it is none of our business." This speech was given 11 years ago. Since then international migration has grown exponentially. The estimated number of international migrants has steadily increased over the past five decades. Estimates are that by 2020 281 million migrants - about 3.6% of the global population - were on the move, seeking freedom from war and conflict, to escape hunger and poverty, to find new economic opportunities and employment, or to flee from religious intolerance or political repression. On September 2 of 2015 the world was exposed to and shocked by a photograph of the body of a 2 year old Syrian refugee who drowned in the Mediterranean Sea during his family's attempt to reach Europe from Turkey. We even know his name - Alan Kurdi. Readers were aghast. Many expressed concerns about the mortal dangers confronting refugees traveling in that part of the world. Since then almost 30,000 deaths have been recorded. And between 2014 and 2018 another 12,000 people who died were never found. In 2023 alone, 8,565 refugees died on migration routes. In the U.S., between 1998 and 2020, 8,050 people died crossing the U.S. - Mexican border. And no, we did not know their names. The sheer numbers are overwhelming. However, empathy for the well being of migrants has generally been converted to populist and nativist anxiety about polluting traditional cultures or taking jobs and other resources away from domestic populations. The conversation has changed compassion into the logistics of managing the onslaught and the political calculations behind any kind of response. President Biden only recently issued a set of policies catering to both ends of the political spectrum during this election year. On one hand he announced new protections for undocumented spouses of American citizens, which affected about 500,000 people. On the other hand he installed restrictions on the flow of asylum seekers at the border. His likely adversary in this year's election, former President Donald Trump, has used border control as centerpiece of his campaign, designed to cement his political base. His significant promise has been that, if elected, he will use the power of his presidency to deport as many as 20 million undocumented people from the United States. He also laid out plans to build "vast holding facilities that would function as staging centers" for immigrants, essentially internment camps. His mantra is that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country." Periodic mass migrations of people have taken place throughout history. We are aware of the Barbarian invasions of the Roman Empire, the great migration from England of the 1630s, and the estimated 14 million Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims that were displaced during the partition of India in 1947 at the beginning of the dissolution of the British Empire, just to mention a few. For as long as immigration has existed, it has generated anti-immigrant sentiment. However, this time around the vast numbers of migrants paired with the effects of climate change, the pandemic and influenced by the political calculations of a growing nativist electorate have turned compassion into indifference. In the words of Pope Francis: "[Migrants] seek to leave difficult situations in order to find a little serenity and peace. They seek a better place for themselves and their families. How many times do those who seek this do not find understanding, do not find welcome, do not find solidarity? Instead of a better place, sometimes they found death." "We have lost the sense of fraternal responsibility. We are accustomed to the suffering of others, but it does not concern us. It's none of our business. We have forgotten the experience of weeping. We seem to have lost our capacity for empathy." Theo Wierdsma