Article
Comment
Middle East
4 min read

The harsh reminder of our common humanity

Iran’s latest sanctions on protestors are a harsh reminder of the importance of diversity, solidarity and our common humanity, writes Krish Kandiah.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

A protester holds a red placard bearing the name and image of Mahsa Amini

It has been a year since the widespread protests across Iran sparked by the death of Mahsa Amini. The courageous 22-year-old was killed in prison for refusing to wear the hijab headscarf. To mark the anniversary of her death the Iranian government issued new legislation increasing the punishment to women who are deemed “inappropriately dressed” from a previous punishment of 10 days in prison to a maximum 10-year incarceration sentence.  

According to the World Economic Forum, Iran is ranked 140 out of 144 countries in the area of gender equality. Iran’s current leadership suppresses not just the clothing of women but their voices, skills, perspectives and decisions too. Women choosing to forego the hijab had previously been a way to peacefully push back on the inequality they are facing. This symbolism of resistance is now not only forbidden, but criminal. Even business owners who serve women who are not wearing the hijab are liable for prosecution under the new laws.  

As a father of three daughters, I find Iran’s new laws deeply disturbing.  I cannot even imagine the desperation of Amjad Amini, Mahsa’s father, who this week was put in prison in an attempt to short-circuit any protests of his daughter’s death. He faces not just the trauma of the state murder of his daughter, the risk to his own life and the inability to grieve in peace, but also the devastating consequence of her death on 49 million other women in Iran with the tightening of the very laws his daughter was protesting against.  

It could learn a lot from Jesus who went out of his way to welcome those that others looked down on. 

As a Christian I find these oppressive laws deeply troubling too. One of the most revolutionary marks of the Christian faith is that it recognises the absolute equality and intrinsic value of all human beings. No matter what our age or race or gender or sexuality or nationality or ability or immigration status or political persuasion or faith, all are made in the image of God. I believe it is therefore an essential element of my faith to speak up for the rights of my fellow human beings, particularly when they are being marginalised, tyrannised, dehumanised or disempowered.  

This means the oppression of Muslim women in the Middle East matters to me. Although we come from different cultures, live on different continents and hold different views about God and how to worship him, I believe we are connected by our common humanity.  

Sadly, our common humanity is not always recognised either by Christians or those outside of the church. The church in the UK has too often been guilty as charged for misogynist, homophobic and racist attitudes. It could learn a lot from Jesus who went out of his way to welcome those that others looked down on. He was not afraid to face criticism for spending time with those the religious folk of the time had traditionally mistreated. It is time for the church to follow his example and take a lead in treating everyone with compassion and in standing up for the basic human rights of women, those in the LGBT community, and those from other countries.  

Our common humanity is becoming overlooked too in our polarised world as it further divides over identity politics. There is a developing norm to focus less on the things that unite us and more on what differentiates us. Our latest culture wars are pitting women’s rights against trans rights, telling us that the rights of black people are opposed to the rights of white people, or that the rights of immigrants are at odds with the rights of settled passport-holders. But that is not the way things have to be or should be.  

I believe that the opposite is true: that the world can be better for all of us, that there is strength in solidarity, that diversity is genuinely good for everyone.  

This is why I recently turned up at a campaign calling for the rights of Afghan women and girls to be respected, why I publicly advocate for refugees and care-experienced young people, and why I insisted on greater representation of the LGBT community in my work with government. This is why I offer race and faith literacy training to government bodies, churches and businesses. This is why I have opened up my home to foster children and refugee families. This is why I set up my charity, Sanctuary Foundation, to advocate for those who do not feel safe in their own country. This is why I call the church to action and compassion for all whose rights have been taken away or are being eroded. This is why, in as far as it depends on me, I will champion equality for all.  

And this is why I will continue to be calling on the government to open safe and legal routes for all those who are being oppressed and persecuted in the countries where they live. I would like the government to offer our country as sanctuary to women from Iran whose lives are endangered, whose human rights are being denied. I would like our country to offer asylum and hospitality to those who have had to flee Iran after daring to challenge the brutality of the current regime. I would like our churches to lead the way in warmly welcoming all those from Iran and anywhere else who have never experienced unconditional love and acceptance.  

Article
Comment
Migration
Politics
Romance
5 min read

Families like mine are impossible now, thanks to the idol that is the net migration target

Politician priests are making pointless sacrifices on the altar of numbers

Joel Pierce is the administrator of Christ's College, University of Aberdeen. He has recently published his first book.

A Border Force officer wears body armour with Immigration Enforcement written on the back
UK Border Force.

Let me tell you a love story. Eighteen years ago, in a time before politicians had taken to immolating their values on the altar of the semiannual net migration totals, I fell for the pretty Scottish bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding. The romance presented some challenges for an American like me, but none that were insurmountable. She found a year-long internship near me in Seattle and, just before she returned home, I popped the question.  

The process of applying for a UK visa was just another bit of the tedious logistics of an overseas move, the kind of thing a romantic comedy skips over with a ‘One Year Later’ movie subtitle so that it can end with a joyous wedding ceilidh in a picturesque Scottish locale. Our first few years together in Edinburgh were lean ones. Having takeaway coffee more than once a week felt like a scandalously indulgent luxury. Even so, I was able to progress seamlessly from my marriage visa to indefinite leave to remain, to citizenship.   

None of this would be possible if we were young twentysomethings in love today. We would fail every test of what the Home Office now considers to be acceptable romance.  

During our first year of marriage, the stipend my wife received while training for ministry would have been well short of the £18,600 income threshold introduced in 2012 for a sponsoring spouse, let alone the £29,000 required now. While we did have some savings, they were nowhere near the £88,500 now needed to waive the income requirement, and, in any case, would have been substantially drained by the £5,000 in fees and health surcharges that a two-and-half-year spouse visa now costs. It is little wonder Brits who have found love abroad, even ones in a substantially better financial and professional position than we were then, are now finding it impossible to move back to the UK.  

What is the cause of these new barriers? A hint can be found in the title of a recent Guardian article about recommendations for a slight relaxation of the income threshold to between £23,000 to £25,000. ‘Lowering UK’s income requirement for family visas ‘would increase net migration’, the piece was headlined. When even the most left wing major daily in Britain can’t report on the possibility of things being marginally easier for Brits who have the temerity to love a non-citizen, without framing it in terms of net migration, it’s a sign that we have all fallen captive to this singular statistic.  

Net migration is a number created by humans and yet it has come to play the role of an angry god which demands sacrifices every time it is reported. The right of working class people to marry a non-citizen spouse, the economic viability of our universities, and the proper staffing of the NHS are all victims its politician-priests have offered up in hopes that they would satiate its hunger. Net zero maybe next. 

There is no particular reason to think totting up the total number of people who arrived in the UK with the intention of staying here for a year and then subtracting the total number who left with the intention of staying abroad for a similar duration is a particularly meaningful exercise. It conflates people like me, who came here with every intention to settle and start a family, with students coming for a one-year master’s, doctors filling vital roles in NHS with children try to stay with with a migrant parent and Afghan refugees seeking long-term sanctuary with oil workers serving time in Aberdeen before moving on to Calgary or Brunei.  

The dominance of this statistic in our discourse has warped our moral discernments. 

There are perfectly legitimate reasons to think carefully about how much of each form of migration to allow, but when they are all grouped together under this single measure a peculiar logic sets in. Want to do the right thing by welcoming refugees from Ukraine and Hong Kong? Well, then, we’ll have to offset that with restricting visas for overseas students and throwing our higher education sector into chaos. Need more highly skilled programmers working in banks in London? Well, maybe we can balance that by demanding care workers abandon their kids if they want to look after someone in Nottingham. There is no reason to weigh the needs of these different sectors against each other, and yet the logic of this statistic demands that we do. 

The Bible has a word for human-made things which take on their own singular, violent logic. It calls them idols. While that word may conjure images of golden calves, the accusation which biblical writers consistently make against idolaters, that their idols blind them to what is really important and numbs their critical thinking, applies equally well when the idol is a statistic. The dominance of this statistic in our discourse has warped our moral discernments. It has made us unable to say what should be said without glancing nervously at its imposing shadow. It causes us to say things that should never be said and not notice how absurd they are. 

Instead, we should be able to celebrate that hundreds of thousands of people want to come to study at our universities (the vast majority of whom return home after finishing their studies)  and, hopefully, someday also be able to celebrate when hundreds of thousands of refugees are able to return to a peaceful and liberated Ukraine without having to calculate that the former will raise and the latter lower our totals. We should be able to welcome easing of income restrictions on spouse visas without noting that it will lead to a marginal increase in net migration. We should be able to see that sending an eight- and eleven-year-old back to Brazil without their parents is not, in the words of a Home Office official, “a degree of disruption in family life” which is “proportionate to the legitimate aim of maintaining effective immigration control”, but rather a gross violation of human decency. 

Migrants are not just numbers on a balance sheet. The diversity of our lives, what we give to the UK, what we receive in return, cannot be summed up in a single annual figure. And yet every six months, as the figure comes out, politicians express disappointment and announce measures to put that little bit of extra pressure on us, so that maybe a few more of us who can leave will. In the process they are sacrificing to this idol not just the peace of mind and the economic well-being of many migrants, but also much of the vitality of the nation as a whole. The Bible has a solution for idols. They are only fit to be melted down, destroyed, and forgotten. It is time to consider giving this one a similar treatment. 

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