3. MIGRATION LEGISLATION WITHOUT IMMIGRATION? THE 1980S
3.3. The Foreigners Law of 1985
3.3.3. Memory in the pre-drafting phase
During this initial phase in which the need for a coherent alien legislation was formulated in discourse, memories of emigration were rarely evoked. Two discursive instances from two very different points of view, however, stood out. In autumn 1983, Jorge Verstrynge Rojas, then General Secretary of the Popular Alliance (AP), asked the government in a written parliamentary inquiry about the legal situation of foreigners in Spain, the way they interfere with the labor market and how
the government would seek to curb immigration.181 This fear for competition in the labor market was
introduced at the beginning of his inquiry with an explicit reference to emigration memory:
“Before, we Spaniards, due to tradition and necessity, emigrated. Today, as the economic crisis has not left anybody untouched, the obstacles of emigration are almost insurmountable. And, curiously and disgracefully, we have come to be a pseudo-paradise for immigrants, as, even though the supply of
labor is not attractive [to them], the easiness of settlement is.”182
More than being a mere rhetorical introduction, this reference to memory served to set the past experience of Spaniards apart from those that were coming to Spain. It maked a clear distinction between ‘Our’ past and ‘Their’ present situation. The past emigration, honored by tradition and legitimized by necessity would still be a driving force in Spanish society, if it were not for the situation of crisis prevalent in the early 1980s. This positive memory of out-migration was contrasted with present day immigration: the immigrant did not come to work, not to be productive, but rather, because it was easy to establish residency in Spain, thereby making Spain a pseudo-paradise. Implicitly, the immigrant was accused of being lazy and unproductive.
Interestingly, Verstrynge Roja’s use of memory elicited a reaction from the government. In its answer to the MP, although itself not alluding to memory, it picked up the argument deriving directly from his use of memory: future immigration would be always regulated under the premises of the Spanish
labor market and a new regulation would entail “a restrictive effect”.183 The government did not
specify when such a new norm would be developed, and, as seen, the planning did not start until a year later – however, if one assumes that Verstrynge Roja’s argument was read and answered by the same persons in the Ministry of the Interior that were later responsible for drafting the new bill, then one could argue that his use of memory did have a (very indirect) influence on the first drafting of
the new Foreigners Law.184
Probably of less influence on the governments framing of the legal text, but a good example of the public discourse of the time, is the second enunciation in which emigration memory played a role. In a letter to the editor from February 1984 titled “I, too, was foreigner” former immigrant Antonio
181
The overtly anti-immigration stance taken by Verstrynge Rojas in this inquiry is interesting when contrasted with his personal and political life. He was born in Tangier, half-Spanish and half-French, where he spent most of his childhood. Having lived in France throughout his youth, he moved to Spain only when he started his studies in sociology and political science. His early (successful) career in the right-wing party was brought to an abrupt end through a confrontation with its leader Manuel Fraga in 1986. Verstrynge Rojas then turned to the
left-wing, becoming member of the PSOE and working occasionally for the United Left (See, e.g. Jorge
Verstrynge: de secretario general del PP a ‘okupa’ dealojado, La Voz Libre, 25.5.2012)
182 BOCG, 2. Leg., Serie D, Núm. 4, 8.10.1983, 388.
183
BOCG, 2. Leg., Serie D, Núm. 12, 11.11.1983, 878.
184
Although no causality can be proven, one could argue in this sense, due to the fact that the law was indeed rather restrictive with respect to the inclusion of foreigners to the Spanish labor market (see e.g. Cachón Rodríguez, 2009, 169).
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Tello185 denounced growing xenophobia and openly attacked government actions he perceived to be
directed specifically against immigrants. He argued that the ruling PSOE would know how difficult emigration would be but that it still would not adopt a legislation to help the immigrants, even more, that it would overtly take an anti-immigration stance:
“It is not proper for a state governed by the rule of law to search for scapegoats to hide the economic or political crisis […]. The Socialist government does not ignore that political persecution, in one case, and urgency of poverty, in the other, are the origin of the massive immigration. And it does not ignore this for the simple reason that it are the same causes that led thousands of Spaniards to seek for shelter in other countries. And yet, knowing this, it goes on without developing an alien law […]. It seems to be easier to discard the foreigner than to facilitate social coexistence by democratic means. […] I, who was foreigner, profoundly thank that the Spanish people have integrated me under the shelter of their
particular laws.”186
To Tello, the experience of emigration was recognized by policy-makers but ignored in its consequence. He argued that it would be exactly this experience that should motivate the Spanish government to take democratic action and enact a new law rather than expulsing immigrants. This should be valid for both political refugees and economic migrants, as Spaniards had experienced both.
The most interesting thing about this quote is the fact that the author played with two migration memories: that of the Spanish people in general and that of his own exile. Linking the former to the latter and combining his personal memory with expressed gratitude towards Spanish society, he could argue in favor of a more benevolent legislation. Tello’s letter is a good example of intellectuals entering the public discourse on migration-related legislation and how emigration memory was used
to convey a message of empathy with immigrants.Tello’s case, however, is especially interesting, as
he finds a way to express Spanish emigration memory without being Spanish himself.
Other intellectuals have also taken part in the wider public discussion on immigration and thereby employed emigration memory. Two prime examples of this are the author Juan Goytisolo, who described the death of a young immigrant and thereby identified the reader with the victim using
allusions to Spanish emigration memory,187 and Mario Benedetti, an Uruguayan writer in exile, who
used Spanish memories of emigration to South America to speak to his fellow Latin American immigrants on how to react in Spain and to describe to the Spanish population how to best receive
them.188 These and many more examples did not directly pertain to migration-related legislation, but
rather to a more general public discourse on immigration. Nevertheless, they show that Spanish emigration memory was a widely used rhetorical figure in the hands of public intellectuals when arguing about immigration as well.
185 Neither the information given on the author, not the content of the letter itself allows any precise
conclusion to be drawn on who the author actually is. Most probably, however, it is the Argentine exile poet and writer Antonio Tello Argüello who was living in Barcelona at the time, after having fled from dictatorship in Argentina in 1975. This would be in line with the overall character of the letter that argues rather from the perspective of an exile than from that of an economic immigrant.
186
Yo también fui extranjero, El País, 4.2.1984.
187
See Morir con los zapatos puestos, El País, 26.10.1984.
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