I Was An Illegal Alien And An Economic Migrant – So, What's The Problem?

A chance meeting with a ghost from the past reminded me how little self-awareness and empathy exist where immigration is concerned, even from people who've been there and done it themselves

“They are not refugees, they’re economic migrants.”

That’s the right-wing mantra that seeks to undermine the idea that those crossing the channel in small boats are escaping war or repression. It’s a strange argument when it comes from free-market zealots. Shouldn’t we praise those who take risks to make their lives – and those of their families – better?

I was an economic migrant and an illegal immigrant. I was not escaping conflict – unless you count Margaret Thatcher’s assault on the working class – and my traffickers were cheap transatlantic airlines. But I entered another country, the United States, knowing I would break their laws to become an undocumented alien. There were thousands of us from the UK and Ireland in Santa Monica, the San Fernando Valley and across California. The same situation was replicated in New York City, Boston, San Francisco and elsewhere.

This came to mind last year when I bumped into a fella I knew back in Southern California in the early 1990s. He was from Essex. Let’s call him Grant, which seems like an emblematic name for someone from his background and generation.

I didn’t remember him. We were hardly mates. We drank in the same bars – like the King George in Santa Monica and Bangers in Reseda – and played football together on occasion. A mutual acquaintance had told him, it seems, that I’d become football editor of The Times. So, in a Pimlico pub, he tapped me on the shoulder.

After a few pleasantries and discussion of mutual acquaintances, he said: “I see you’re still a lefty.” Groan. More than ever, was my reply. He shook his head and listed why people like me were ruining the country – despite 12 years of Conservative government – and finished with the phrase: “And you’d open the borders and let everyone in. Even these bastards crossing the channel.”

I’d like to say I was genuinely stunned. But I wasn’t. Instead, I set a trap. They’re escaping war, I said, and most of them are from remnants of the British empire or victims of UK intervention in local issues. “Bollocks,” he said. “They’re all young men and they’re economic migrants.”

Yup, just like we were. The net closed on him. His denial was palpable. No, he said, it was nothing at all like what we did.

And there you have it. Someone who left his home at a time of high unemployment to illegally work in another country could not recognise any similarity or feel any empathy with other migrants. “It wasn’t like that,” he said.

Well, what was it like? I did three separate spells in the United States as an illegal alien. Most of the people I met – predominantly Scouse, Irish and Scottish – would have rather stayed at home but embraced the adventure.

When Tories complain about immigrant communities being insular, I understand. We were. You got underground jobs from Brits and Irish. You drank in the same places. You watched football together. If immigration had raided a clutch of Southern California bars at 7am on Saturday morning during the football season, they would have swept up loads of illegals like me. But we were white.

And Grant’s unformed, incoherent counter-arguments to my assertion boiled down to that. Yeah, we were illegal, we didn’t pay tax, but we were white. So we weren't a threat.

The phrase he used was “culturally similar.” A lie. The first time I went to the US I was stunned how culturally dislocated I was after expecting a ‘Britain over there.’ We were not similar.

What we were able to do was blend into the background. Our ethnicity was not a threat – unlike  Hispanics. Yet we were no more or less of a threat.

We cracked on to their women. There was a belief that Californian society was more sexually adventurous and there was some truth in that compared to much of 80s Britain. That led to some awkward and, even, predatory behaviour from some of my fellow economic migrants. Local males didn't like it (there were some women British and Irish illegals but the overwhelming majority were men).

There was a culture of low-key criminality. In the pre-mobile phone days, there were always stolen telephone credit cards knocking round to be shared. That way we could call home.

There was a tradition of forgery, passed down from one illegal to another, where people learnt to remove the “Not Valid For Employment” wording off social security cards. My mate became good at it. A clean social security card allowed you to get proper jobs. But, for most, working in the black economy was enough.

The vast majority of people I met, like Grant, never intended to stay for ever. Some did. They met American partners, embraced the lifestyle and carved out careers. They were in a minority.

Most of us were escaping a grim life in Britain, holing up in a more vibrant economy until things got better at home. I’d expect many of those on the flimsy boats crossing the channel would rather have stayed put, too. And even those who settle in the UK dream of going home one day.

Is it part of the British imperial mindset that people like Grant think it’s OK to move to another country – illegally – and yet believe their homeland should be protected from what they see as interlopers? Or is it just a lack of self-awareness that means he never once considered himself an illegal immigrant?

I was an economic migrant. I was an illegal alien. I came out of an American airport with one small adidas bag and a five-pound note in my pocket, relying on the goodness of others. There are lots of people like me in their 50s and 60s around Britain and it shocks me how few of them have any empathy for those in search of betterment, never mind those escaping danger. 

Put yourself in the shoes of those desperate for a better life. I’ve been there and what I was escaping was nothing by comparison with those poor souls drowning in the Med and the channel. Don’t be like Grant.