Who we are – a response to bigotry in the EU debate

Over the last few weeks, as the EU referendum has gathered pace, a question has appeared time and time again on my Facebook timeline.

Over the last few weeks, as the EU referendum has gathered pace, a question has appeared time and time again on my Facebook timeline. In response to yet another racist statement or vile comment about migrants, people have been asking: “Is this who we are now?”

I know what they mean. This referendum has been one of the ugliest political campaigns I can remember. There are sound arguments on both sides of this debate and yet both have resorted to stirring negative emotions and baser instincts. The remain campaigners could have made the case for the positive aspects of the EU: solidarity, human rights, financial aid, yet they have chosen to opt for ‘Project Fear’, with dire warnings of the consequences of leaving. Brexiteers could have talked about the need to reform, TTIP and economic considerations. Instead, they have chosen make this debate about the mythical ‘other’, the immigrant who is stealing our jobs, our resources and our lives. If only we could close the door, they cry, then Britain will be great again.

I am not naive. Despite our claims to tolerance, I know Britain’s history is steeped in racism. Slavery, the Empire, the Blackshirts, Enoch Powell, the murder of Stephen Lawrence are all moments which should cause us to hang our heads in shame. And I know that though we live in a multicultural society, racism is never far away.

But the tone taken by many leave campaigners with regard to immigration has begun to make racism more socially acceptable again. Nigel Farage and Iain Duncan Smith have frequently made false claims that immigration, not austerity, is the reason health, social care and schools are under pressure, fostering the myth that immigrants drain our resources rather than enhancing them. Boris Johnson claims that Brexit will stop “uncontrolled immigration” suggesting images of hordes of people rushing to our shores, even though it is clear that restricting immigration from the EU will result in increased immigration from other countries. And this has all been in the context of racist undertones that have caused the Labour MP Khalid Mamood to threaten to defect to Remain.

Last week, during the televised EU debate, a member of the audience asked Nigel Farage to explain how he would reduce racial tensions in the light of such rhetoric. Not only did he ignore her, but later, her Twitter timeline was filled with horrific abuse by his supporters. The abusers feel more confident in making these claims because of Farage’s frequent racist comments and claims that he can restore Britain’s place in the world.  Fellow Brexiteer Boris Johnson is no better, as shown by his recent description of President Obama as ‘half Kenyan’, a clear example of dog whistle politics. Whilst the journalists who portray these provocative politicians as ‘colourful’ characters, whose outrageous comments are part of their entertainment value, only serve to legitimise their points of view.

Earlier this week a Brexit campaign cartoon was so blatant in its bigotry it had me hanging my head in despair. Whilst yesterday, Nigel Farage proudly unveiled the most shocking poster yet – a queue of Syrian refugees on the Slovenian border presented as flocking to get into the UK. Not only was it a racist lie (we have taken an embarrassingly low quota of Syrian refugees) but it was also a horrifying misuse of a picture of people fleeing from a war zone. 

Is this who we are now? Are we really this bigoted? Are we really this lacking in compassion?

And then shortly afterwards, came the shocking news of Jo Cox’s murder. An MP going about her business repeatedly shot and stabbed in the middle of the afternoon.  

Is this who we are now?

I didn’t know Jo Cox, but as I read about her life, I felt I understood who she was. The former head of policy at Oxfam, married to a former policy director at Save the Children, mother of two small children, she was clearly a principled politician. Her compassion for the suffering of people in Syria, and her passionate support of the Dubs amendment marked her out as someone who really cared. I didn’t agree with all her political positions, but nonetheless, it seems to me that she was willing to work her guts out to make the world a better place. She was one of us.

It is too early to say whether her murder is linked to the bigotry that has blighted the EU debate or was simply the act of some aggrieved constituent.  Nevertheless, her death has shone a light on a different Britain from the one we’ve been experiencing lately.  From the horror expressed by eyewitnesses to MPs weeping for their colleague and friend (reminding us they are human too), and the vigils taking place across the country tonight,  this appalling murder has demonstrated that love is more powerful than hate.

When Jo Cox made her maiden speech in the House of Commons she said “we are far more united and have far more in common with each other than things that divide us”, and she was right. Her husband Brendan echoed these sentiments yesterday in a statement released shortly after her death: “She would have wanted two things above all else to happen now, one that our precious children are bathed in love and two, that we all unite to fight against the hatred that killed her. Hate doesn’t have a creed, race or religion, it is poisonous.”

There are many who wish to turn us into a nation of haters, but I think we are better than that. Brendan Cox’s dignified response to his wife’s murder shows us how we can be better than that. Because if he can find love in his heart on the worse day of his life, then we all can. It is important we listen to his message. It is time to tell the bigots what makes Britain great is love and compassion, not fear and loathing.

Because that’s who we really are.               

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© Virginia Moffatt is Chief Operating Officer of Ekklesia.