More than five years ago, we published Refugia as a provocation, seeking to jolt scholars and activists into responding more imaginatively to shifts in the volume and character of displacement. Refugia took an innovative “social science fiction” approach to explore the future possibilities for self-governing, transnational refugee communities amid the growing global refugee crisis. At the time, we were optimistic about the potential for new, more inclusive, and sustainable approaches to forced migration. We were hopeful that by 2030, we might see the emergence of transformative initiatives like Refugia – an embodiment of the idea of flexible, self-organised spaces for displaced populations that could work alongside traditional nation-states and international governance structures.
The French-language edition of this book, just published, comes at another critical juncture, when the global refugee and migration landscape is in further turmoil. What seemed, in 2019, to be an evolving situation now feels like a harrowing reality, shaped not only by migration crises but also by the rise of nationalism, the decline of asylum, and wider geopolitical turbulence.
Over the last five years, the deteriorating outlook for displaced people and others on the move has been marked by at least four profound developments: the impact of Covid-19, an increase in displacement from conflict, the rapid rise of restrictive immigration policies, and attempts by many states to ‘offshore’ refugees or forcibly deport those seeking asylum. The worsening impacts of climate change have further compounded the difficult conditions faced by refugees and migrants.
Against this backdrop, we reflect on what has changed, what we’ve learned, and what the future holds for the principles originally outlined in Refugia.
The world is undoubtedly a more hostile place than in 2019. The landscape of global migration has become increasingly fraught with uncertainty. Violent conflicts, like those in Gaza and Sudan, have highlighted the twin perils of displacement and forced immobility. Those who hoped for more compassionate border policies and more meaningful refugee protection have had to face a harsher reality. The situation for those attempting to traverse dangerous migration routes, such as the Central Mediterranean and the English Channel, has greatly deteriorated. Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) was forced to cease its Mediterranean rescue operations by hostile Italian policies, demonstrating the growing difficulty humanitarian organisations face providing assistance under increasingly restrictive immigration regimes. The refusal of European governments to uphold their moral and legal obligations to rescue people at sea has highlighted the breakdown of international solidarity more generally. Calamitous cuts in aid point in the same direction.
Some of the initiatives that we saw in the first edition of the book as precursors to Refugia have been seriously challenged, though their spirit survives. For example, there are serious threats to sanctuary cities, which have represented a positive model for integrating migrants into urban life. The Trump administration’s attempts to roll back sanctuary policies in the USA have been mirrored by similar movements in Europe. Despite this, grassroots movements continue to push back, showing that solidarity between citizens and refugees remains strong, even in the face of rising political opposition.
Another encouraging development is that refugee-led organisations (RLOs) have gained further traction both locally and internationally. These organisations, which often straddle multiple refugee groups from different backgrounds, give us a glimpse of the promise of solidarity among different displaced populations. Although not without criticism, especially concerning their representativeness, RLOs reflect the growing influence of refugees in shaping the discourse around migration and asylum. Other positive developments include the rise of ‘universities of sanctuary’ – academic institutions that provide support and safe havens for a small but growing number of displaced people. Perhaps most encouragingly, grass roots, mutual-aid organisations like the ‘emergency response rooms’ in war-torn Sudan, Somalis’ digital support groups, and other similar initiatives can take on some state and welfare functions, and provide promising examples of bottom-up governance, despite the huge challenges they face and the dire circumstances in which they sometimes find themselves.
While the challenges are daunting, we suggest the idea of Refugia holds good. As 2030 approaches, the creation of transnational, self-governing communities for displaced people - whether in a Refugia-like entity or in some other form – remains a feasible and desirable way forward. In the longer run, the lessons from thinking through Refugia may help shape future approaches to forced migration at a time of shifting geopolitics, inward-looking nativism, and the need for more cooperative, solidaristic and sustainable approaches. If the current system and thinking no longer work, we need to move beyond them to create more imaginative alternatives.
