Ice and Fire is a relatively new theatre company, focusing on human-rights issues. Founded by playwright Sonja Linden in 2003, they wield theatre in the interests of education and awareness, rather than as “mere entertainment”. This politicised type of theatre has a splendid history running back through the twentieth century to Bertolt Brecht and George Bernard Shaw; and it is encouraging to see it alive and well in the new century.
The Illegals is a short reading, by five actors, of stories gleaned from the testimonies of five illegal or semi-legal immigrants in Britain. Why “semi-legal”? – Because in most the stories told, the law is not a clear-cut path to justice, but instead of maze of ambiguities, contradictions, and bureaucratic confusion. Many immigrants don’t even know if they are legal or not, since they can't even get the Home Office to answer their petitions. In the story we hear of a man from Ethiopia who seeks asylum from political danger, this is the greatest horror: the uncertainty. For fourteen years he has been here, never knowing from day to day whether he will be allowed to stay.
If you arrive in this country as a migrant, and you don’t have the papers to show that you are an acceptable, rich-world citizen, then the government does not feel any responsibility to treat you with respect. They will leave your petitions unanswered, they will contradict their own rules, they will put things off, and delay, and obfuscate, and lose the papers, and delay some more, and…
We hear of a Chinese man who has come here as an economic migrant. He could barely support his family in rural China, so he borrows a fortune to come to Britain, where he hopes to earn it all back, and more, and send home money so his children can study. But life for him in Britain is lonely, tough, and again, uncertain. The government refuses him working papers, but lets him stay, so that he can contribute to the semi-legal workforce that props up the economy. Working every day in a Chinese restaurant, he takes a fully packed suitcase with him, so that he can always be ready to make a quick escape. The manager out front keeps a bell at the ready – if the immigration authorities ever appear, at least he will get a few seconds’ warning.
Other stories are of women from Guatemala and Ecuador, and a man from Egypt. Everybody has a different story, yet the common threads are always the escape from poverty and oppression, and the desire to share in the opportunities offered by an economically advanced, democratic country. But also common to all is the discovery that these democratic, legal rights are not afforded in the same way to everyone. If you don’t have the means to get the right papers, then your rights are ambiguous at best, non-existent at worst. By creating and sustaining this legal limbo, the British Government deliberately exposes migrants to exploitation of all forms: economic, emotional, physical, sexual. Perhaps they think that is the best people deserve – if they haven’t got the right papers.
The Illegals was indeed an eye-opening experience. It was even funny and entertaining in moments. All five of the actors brought a lot to the performance, but I can’t tell you their names, because they were not printed on the program, nor do they appear on the company website. So this is my one, small complaint: if you want to talk about treating workers with respect, then you could start by giving a little more recognition to the volunteer ethnic actors who are doing your show.
The Illegals is a short reading, by five actors, of stories gleaned from the testimonies of five illegal or semi-legal immigrants in Britain. Why “semi-legal”? – Because in most the stories told, the law is not a clear-cut path to justice, but instead of maze of ambiguities, contradictions, and bureaucratic confusion. Many immigrants don’t even know if they are legal or not, since they can't even get the Home Office to answer their petitions. In the story we hear of a man from Ethiopia who seeks asylum from political danger, this is the greatest horror: the uncertainty. For fourteen years he has been here, never knowing from day to day whether he will be allowed to stay.
If you arrive in this country as a migrant, and you don’t have the papers to show that you are an acceptable, rich-world citizen, then the government does not feel any responsibility to treat you with respect. They will leave your petitions unanswered, they will contradict their own rules, they will put things off, and delay, and obfuscate, and lose the papers, and delay some more, and…
We hear of a Chinese man who has come here as an economic migrant. He could barely support his family in rural China, so he borrows a fortune to come to Britain, where he hopes to earn it all back, and more, and send home money so his children can study. But life for him in Britain is lonely, tough, and again, uncertain. The government refuses him working papers, but lets him stay, so that he can contribute to the semi-legal workforce that props up the economy. Working every day in a Chinese restaurant, he takes a fully packed suitcase with him, so that he can always be ready to make a quick escape. The manager out front keeps a bell at the ready – if the immigration authorities ever appear, at least he will get a few seconds’ warning.
Other stories are of women from Guatemala and Ecuador, and a man from Egypt. Everybody has a different story, yet the common threads are always the escape from poverty and oppression, and the desire to share in the opportunities offered by an economically advanced, democratic country. But also common to all is the discovery that these democratic, legal rights are not afforded in the same way to everyone. If you don’t have the means to get the right papers, then your rights are ambiguous at best, non-existent at worst. By creating and sustaining this legal limbo, the British Government deliberately exposes migrants to exploitation of all forms: economic, emotional, physical, sexual. Perhaps they think that is the best people deserve – if they haven’t got the right papers.
The Illegals was indeed an eye-opening experience. It was even funny and entertaining in moments. All five of the actors brought a lot to the performance, but I can’t tell you their names, because they were not printed on the program, nor do they appear on the company website. So this is my one, small complaint: if you want to talk about treating workers with respect, then you could start by giving a little more recognition to the volunteer ethnic actors who are doing your show.