We must face the truth: migration is not ‘a crisis’, it’s a symptom

A decade since the migrant crisis began, thousands are still dying at Europe’s borders, writes Mohammad bin Abdulkarim Al-Issa of the Muslim World League. As climate change drives new waves of displacement, we must not repeat the same mistakes

Ten years ago this month, people started drowning in the Mediterranean. Not occasionally, but in their thousands.

April 2015 was the beginning of what we would later call the “migrant crisis”, when desperate people from across the global South left war and poverty and made their way to Europe and to safety.

In the early days of the crisis, it looked like the world was rallying behind them. European leaders held crisis summits and pledged millions of euros towards rescue missions. In Germany, the then-Chancellor Angela Merkel declared: “Refugees welcome.” We know now, of course, that the optimism was misplaced. We now know how the story ended. That is, it didn’t.

In 2016, the first full year of the migrant crisis, there were 389,877 arrivals in Europe. In 2023, there were 292,985. Ten years since it began, people are still fleeing war, violence and poverty – dying on the way. In 2016, 5,305 migrants were recorded as dead or missing. In 2023, that figure was 4,124.

When I addressed the United Nations in New York last month in my role as secretary general of the Muslim World League, I was speaking for the wider Muslim world, where so many of these refugees hail from. I made a point I have long held and shared: that migration is not a crisis; the crisis is what makes people migrate.

Yet recognising this is only the first step. If we truly grasp that the crisis lies in human suffering and desperation, we must also recognise that the migrant crisis cannot only be seen in terms of data, macroeconomics and policy. Central to our collective response must also be compassion and a sense of moral responsibility.

After all, the events of 2015 revealed that Europe was not prepared with the compassion necessary to handle major shocks such as the arrival of millions of people from war-torn and impoverished countries. Europe’s – and the world’s – moral foundations were shaken precisely when compassion was most urgently needed.

The result? From 2015 to 2020, Europe witnessed the biggest rise in far-right parties and ideologies since the Second World War. Today, that void in moral leadership is greater and more gaping than it was in 2015. As global societies, we have failed to prioritise empathy as a fundamental principle guiding policy and public discourse. Yet empathy is precisely what we need to inspire meaningful policy and concrete action. That moral duty is why, for instance, I have consistently advocated for creating safer migration routes.

‘As long as people are desperate, they will leave, and as long as they leave, they will die’ (AFP via Getty Images)

This does not mean simply spending money militarising the Mediterranean or the English Channel, nor does it mean providing large subsidies to other countries to stop migrants from leaving. These measures only increase the risks – and costs – for the smugglers who prey on desperate people. As long as people are desperate, they will leave, and as long as they leave, they will die.

Part of the duty of leaders is to tackle the cause of political and economic instability at home. That’s why the Muslim World League has prioritised supporting stability across the Islamic world, particularly through initiatives empowering women and girls in public life. Most recently, we convened political leaders, religious authorities and civil society groups in Pakistan to affirm the religious legitimacy and necessity of girls’ education.

Such efforts might seem indirect or distant from the immediate issue of mass migration, but they are essential: building stable, resilient societies is critical if we hope to address the root causes that compel people to leave their homes. This is also why I believe NGOs, guided by moral principles, must play a crucial role in filling gaps left by governments.

Yet we must also embrace the transformative potential of migration itself, recognising that migrants contribute significantly to their new societies. Despite the rhetoric from many in Europe, migration has been beneficial for both the continent and the world. More than 10,000 refugees who arrived in Germany in 2015 are now proficient enough in German to attend university. More than half of those who arrived are now employed and contributing to taxes.

As we look to the future, it is clear that migration is likely to intensify, driven increasingly by the impacts of climate change. Climate change is poised to force millions to move from the global South – where the impacts will be greatest – to the North in coming years. Are we morally and practically prepared for this next wave? The answer, sadly, is no – not yet.

Unless we build the shared moral foundations and collective sense of compassion and humanity to deal with such crises that lie just beyond the horizon, we risk living in societies built on hatred and fear. And how can we do that? By starting small. Empathy and connection begin at home, with small acts of kindness, generosity and hospitality in our communities.

That might sound vague and intangible to some, but these are the building blocks that create compassionate societies that value humanity in others. From hosting local events that welcome refugees to advocating for policies that prioritise safety and dignity, every small action counts, and their impact, added up across countless communities, can be incalculable in changing our own societies at their very core.

Ten years on, we must prepare from the ground up and let our shared humanity be our legacy – and not thousands more dead on the shores of Europe.

Mohammad bin Abdulkarim Al-Issa is the secretary general of the Muslim World League