A “post-racial reckoning” international order? Confronting racism during a humanitarian crisis
George Floyd's murder inspired a "racial reckoning" whereby the world seemingly committed to anti-racism, so why are Black and Brown refugees of Ukraine facing discrimination in a humanitarian crisis?
Paola Salas Paredes is a Master’s in Public Policy Candidate at the Max Bell School. Originally from Panama and educated in the United States, Paola leverages her multicultural perspective to inform evidence-based policymaking. She is interested in the intersection of science, technology and democratic governance for addressing social inequality and tackling our greatest global challenges. She is also trained in humanitarian disaster response through the Consortium for Humanitarian Service and Education (CSHE).
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IN JUNE 2020, tens of thousands of people rallied around the globe in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement and to protest against racism and police brutality after the murder of George Floyd. Protests spread from Sydney to Johannesburg and London to Krakow, with each protest also highlighting local instances of racism and inequality.
The moment was described as a “racial reckoning” where politicians called for an end to police brutality and introduced legislation to strengthen civil rights. Statues of slave traders and colonizers were taken down across the world and even major corporations took a public stance and cashed in on the social justice fervor. Every workplace was rethinking its “culture” and emphasizing “Diversity, Equity and Inclusion”. The same reactionary sentiment permeated the plenaries of primary stakeholders within the International Liberal Order: the UN Human Rights Chief condemned the killing of George Floyd and adopted a milestone UN resolution to create an independent mechanism, made up of three experts, to investigate the root causes of systemic racism and police violence. The World Bank issued a statement and launched an Anti-Racism Charter. The ICRC, a foremost actor in the humanitarian space, issued a statement renewing its commitment to advancing the Fundamental Principles of the Humanitarian Movement, which aim for truly inclusive humanitarian action.
It seemed that across all sectors, we were moving towards a “post-racial reckoning” reality, one where instances of racial and ethnic discrimination would be fearlessly brought up and accountability would reign as we collectively moved toward atoning for past errors and building safeguards for a more just and equitable future. One where the experiences of marginalized people would be validated the same as those from the Global North. I am not naive to believe that these changes would occur overnight nor that a statement, a task force and a donation would fix racism, but the unfathomable experiences of Black and Brown people since Russia invaded Ukraine on February 24 reveal that the humanitarian sector has not done enough to prevent racial discrimination during a humanitarian crisis.
The invasion of Ukraine has triggered a humanitarian crisis as upwards of 4 million people are projected to flee into neighbouring countries of Hungary, Moldova, Romania, Slovakia and Poland. Poland, a member of the EU and subject to NATO protection, has already received 756,000 Ukrainians. However, in the early days of the crisis, reports trickled in of Black people being turned away, beaten, or forced to wait days longer than their non-Black counterparts to exit Ukraine.
Accounts of Black medical students from Kyiv being denied entry into Poland have made the rounds of social media. Other videos show Ukrainian security forces keeping Black people from boarding westbound trains. Speaking to the UK's The Independent, Osarumen, a Nigerian national who has lived in Ukraine since 2009, said he, his family members and other migrants were told by military officials to disembark a bus about to cross the border and told, “No blacks”. The hashtag #AfricansinUkraine on Twitter tells even more.
The same can be said for migrants from the Middle East and Afghanistan who tried to sneak across the border from Belarus last year and were beaten back with batons by Polish security forces. At least a dozen died in the forests that straddle the border. This is in sharp contrast to Ukrainians, who are mostly Christian, white and have a legal right to enter Poland without visas. They have been welcomed warmly with hot tea, food and shuttles to nearby train stations from where they can continue their journeys.
The United Nations has admitted that some non-European refugees have faced discrimination while trying to flee to safety at Ukraine’s borders after their experiences were dismissed as lies and “Russian disinformation” by online commentators. The Chancellery of the Polish Prime Minister has tweeted out in response that refugees of all nationalities fleeing Ukraine can enter Poland. However, African students also report that once allowed to cross into Poland, Hotels and other shelters are turning them away, saying they are for “Ukrainians only”. An irony of this situation is that the African continent received thousands of Polish and other central European refugees during World War II.
It is unconscionable that racism would rear itself in the midst of a humanitarian crisis. War knows no colour, nor religion, nor social status. The humanitarian principle of impartiality stresses that humanitarian aid must be provided solely on the basis of need and without discrimination on the basis of nationality, race, gender, religious belief, class or political opinions. How then, can the enforcement of the impartiality principle extend to a post-racial reckoning reality (if there really is one)?
Saman Rejali, former lead of the ICRC’s Gender, Diversity and Inclusion Committee, published a piece in July 2020 proposing two ways that the humanitarian sector can tailor its operational and institutional systems to better serve people affected by armed conflict and other situations of violence: acknowledgment of the role that neo-colonial legacies continue to play in the humanitarian sector, and extending the interpretation of the humanitarian principles to account for equitable treatment, over equal treatment. This all sounds good in theory, but it is time to consider concrete actions to mitigate racial discrimination in a humanitarian crisis.
As people interested in policy, there are two interventions worth considering:
First, because Poland is an EU member state and there are talks of possibly admitting Ukraine into the EU in the aftermath of this conflict, policies should be put in place to hold current and future member states accountable. The EU should adopt and enforce a policy that clearly iterates that no member state shall discriminate, hinder or prevent a person from their fundamental right to mobility on the basis of race, religion, gender, disability, sexual orientation or income level during a humanitarian crisis or war. Documented failure to adhere to this policy would face consequences in the form of fines. Repeated failures could result in stronger sanctions or expulsion.
Secondly, because migration issues will only continue to plague Europe due to climate change, regional instability and conflict, humanitarian observers should be deployed to border crossings immediately during humanitarian crises or conflict zones within EU member states. In a similar vein to election observers, humanitarian observers could record any instances of infringement for human rights at border crossings. These neutral humanitarian observers could be housed regionally at the European Commission (EC) level under Civil Protection and Humanitarian Aid Operations or to serve a more global mandate, under the UNCHR Special Envoy. Member states would sign a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) with the EU or UNHCR agreeing to allow humanitarian observers into their territory for future cross-border migration and humanitarian events.
Whether regionally or globally, these interventions hinge on the voluntary cooperation and financial support of member states and as such, these are not panaceas for the deeper issue of racism. Because international humanitarian law is largely customary, there is also a risk that enforcement of these interventions may be voluntary and exclusionary to only the states that agree to the presence of humanitarian observers. In spite of these caveats, we can continue to hold ourselves and the humanitarian sector accountable to its own values in demanding we go beyond platitudes and move toward concrete action. Let Ukraine in 2022 be the last time we hear of people being discriminated against while fleeing war and destruction.
The Bell is edited by Jaclyn Victor, Jason Kreutz, Shweta Menon and Phaedra de Saint-Rome of the Max Bell School of Public Policy at McGill University.