Sanctuary

As refugees come out of Ukraine in their hundreds of thousands, it raises again the question I have asked myself before in different contexts, and I answer it in the same way, but with more insight into why. I won’t be taking anyone in to my house, although obviously there is space. It isn’t even the prospect of managing practically sharing space and facilities that’s the issue: it’s more that taking someone fleeing another country into your home isn’t just a matter of giving them a roof – I’ve done that with people I know on a couple of occasions – it is, effectively, them joining your family, as I’ve heard the relevant charities say. You become, in a way, responsible for them. I’ve realised how much the sense of responsibility and decision-making in my working life generally affects me, and how much I look forward to not doing it one day, if I get that far, so no longer having a door between me and the things I am responsible for (quite apart from general introversion which makes all interaction hard enough work) isn’t something I am comfortable taking on. I wouldn’t function well.

It was thinking about this that led me, long ago, to conclude that it is a good spiritual principle to do with all your might what you can do rather than lament what you can’t. If I am not going to be hosting anyone in my house, it is all the more vital that I contribute in some other way, trying to help and support anyone who comes to this community and the people who might end up hosting them. So yesterday I found myself watching a presentation by the Sanctuary Foundation, the organisation the bishops have pointed the Guildford churches towards, as they recounted the experience of refugees and hosts, and representatives of charities working in the area, and described how the UK government scheme is set up so far. Not very extensively yet, it turns out, as potential sponsors already have to have a Ukrainian contact lined up to come here and clearly only a tiny fraction of the generous souls who have volunteered their help and their homes do. The most practical outcome from my point of view was learning about Reset UK, a charity which has been co-ordinating community support for refugees for some while – ‘support’ meaning not just hosting, but other kinds of practical help, including for the hosts themselves. This strikes me as a good socialist approach that looks beyond individual charity towards hospitality as something communal.

The co-director of Reset pointed out that Ukrainians aren’t exactly the first people to seek refuge here: it goes on all the time. We know that there’s an Afghan family living in the Swanvale Halt area, for instance, but we have little contact with them. The UK has been quietly in receipt of many Hong Kong Chinese with British passports since China started playing hard-ball there, and I have no idea whether any of them have found their way to our local area. But in general we seem surprised by this happening; meanwhile, my Finnish friend Elsa describes how the first Ukrainian children are already at school in her home country, while here (so the charities say) it typically takes months for refugee children to find a place in the school system.

Perhaps part of the problem is that the UK – perhaps because we are surrounded and shielded by water – sees the mass displacement of human beings from their homes as something rare and exceptional, rather than an event we sadly ought to expect to happen. We have never had to undergo it ourselves: we have never been invaded, never been a persecuted minority, never undergone a devastating disaster. The more we get used to it, the better organised we will get, and the less daunting it will seem.