Whilst the presence of Afrodescendants on the British Isles dates back to antiquity, the establishment of the groundbreaking National Health Service (NHS) in 1948 coincided with a particular wave of migration primarily from British colonies in the Caribbean and later Africa. The British state actively procured workers from then overseas territories; perceived as a cheap – and often exploitative - alternative for meeting staff shortfalls in key sectors, including healthcare.
The term ‘Windrush’ derives from the name of the ship that brought the first wave of Caribbean immigrants to the UK seeking opportunities in the former imperial heartland.
The ‘Windrush Generation’ usually refers to citizens of Commonwealth countries, including but not limited to African-Caribbeans, who settled in the UK before the enforcement of the 1971 Immigration Act.
Much has been made of migrant workers’ contribution to the past – and present – sustainability of British institutions such as the NHS. However, there has been a comparative paucity of interest in the so-called Windrush generation’s women healthcare professionals. It’s not so much that these narratives are completely absent from the popular imaginary. It’s just what is out there is sparse, fragmented and often relatively invisibilised.
This comparative invisibility speaks somewhat to the conflicted relationship the UK has towards the ‘Windrush’ generation and migration overall. At Waterloo train station, one of London’s main thoroughfares, an elaborate sculpture was erected in 2022 commemorating Windrush. A London overground route was recently renamed ‘The Windrush Line’. Yet, as important as memorials can be, these are mere superficial gestures if policies contradict this outward projection of an ‘open and welcoming’ society. The political establishment might engage in selective amnesia, refusing to see the link between current hostile immigration policies and the colonial past. Yet, as Lucy Mayblin has observed in her 2017 book, Asylum after Empire, those most affected by harsh legislation are only too aware of this connection. Postcolonial scholar, Henghameh Saroukhani speaks of a ‘political investment’ in an idealised depiction of the Windrush, supposedly to represent a ‘benign empire’. However, hostility greeted not only these post-war arrivals but the generations to come. The late 2010s Home Office/Windrush scandal saw migrants threatened with deportation after living in Britain for decades. This state of affairs was a result of pernicious domestic policies aimed at creating a ‘hostile environment’ for undocumented migrants. Many who had come as part of the Windrush migration wave had the legal right to reside in the UK. However, the state had not provided them with the requisite documentation to prove their citizenship. Some had never left the country since arrival. The consequences were grave for thousands; loss of livelihood, homes, access to healthcare services to which they’d contributed and/or worked- and in some cases – untimely death according to health campaigner, Patrick Vernon. A Human Rights Watch report of April 2023 claims those affected by the scandal are yet to be adequately compensated.
Anti-migrant rhetoric and policies transcend party political lines in the UK, across Europe and beyond. The UK’s New Labour administration of 1997-2010 was notorious for its stigmatisation of asylum seekers. The current Labour government has recently announced a raft of controversial proposals so seemingly draconian, some British journalists initially found them too outlandish to believe.
Unfortunately, the UK is not an outlier. Mainstream parties across mainland Europe and much of the world have moved on to hard right terrain. Campaigns continue in order to mitigate the European Pact on Migration and Asylum's punitive regulations. Those fleeing horrific circumstances are roundly regarded with suspicion and contempt, migration - usually from the Global South - treated instead as a security risk by politicians and mainstream media.
Irrespective of how grim the current socio-political landscape seems, this is not an invitation to despair. Centring the stories of the ‘marginalised within the marginalised’ can be an act of resistance against a far-right tidal wave.
Tola Ositelu
PhD researcher
MERLIT & BIRMM | Vrije Universiteit Brussel