The Lion Refugee in Europe: A Critical Race/Anti-Blackness Counterstory

The Black Refugee/Migrant in the European Context of Racism and Anti-Blackness

Eric Zemmour, who ran for president in the 2022 French election called for a nationalistic return to French political, social, and cultural glory. He used imagery from the historical past period of colonization to re-claim of the values and sacredness of French European culture and ways of life (Cohen, 2021). This type of racist rhetoric has popularized a xenophobic racism of the great replacement theory originated by French writer Renard Camus, who warned against a foreign invasion of Muslims and other persons of color from former colonies who would in a generation, replace White European Christians, which in turn would lead to a decline of Western European civilization (Cohen, 2021; Onishi, 2019).

This movement is representative of what some scholars in both critical race theory and Third World Approaches to Legal Scholarship (see Achiume & Carbado, 2021; The Economist, 2021) would name as a racialized means to protect European borders (Achiume, 2022; Reynolds, 2021). National borders have their origins in racial categories of exclusion and inclusion. Those who are included and allowed in with little question are White, which serves as a form of whiteness as citizenship property (Harris, 1993). Those who are Black, or another person of color or non-Christian religion are scrutinized, denied entry, or face harassment, discrimination, hostility, and violence. The national borders are neutral legal category points of entry; but racism is operationalized in terms of who does or does not get across those borders (Achiume, 2022). Furthermore, the construction of European nation states can be partially traced to racial sovereignty and colonial history. The use of manufactured crisis political talk and emergency control migration powers discourse, sets the policy and legal context in motion for proposing and implementing entry restrictions based on maintaining Whiteness in European countries (Reynolds, 2021). Migration and refugee issues from Africa to Europe have been re-framed by political leaders in alarmist terms, as threats to the security of European nation states and societies. This trend in the political discourse has triggered increasingly tight controls on entry and visa policies (e.g., see European Union initiatives such as the European Neighborhood Policy and the Joint Valletta Action Plan), which has resulted in fewer Africans coming to Europe. For example, new employment permits from sub-Saharan African populations dropped precipitously from 33,000 in 2008 to almost half that figure in 2018 (“African Odyssey; Migration,” 2021).

Finally, being Black in Europe has its costs in terms of racial macro and microaggressions and racial battle fatigue (Ragland Woods et al., 2021; Smith et al., 2007), to outright open discrimination and prejudice. According to a summary report from the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights (2019), about one out of every three respondents experienced harassment motivated by racism. This was also followed by survey data indicating that violence motivated racism toward Black people was also prevalent, with most of the victims not reporting incidents to the police or other authorities. The racial discrimination and harassment against Blacks in Europe is evident in housing, schooling/education, employment, and everyday life experiences (Rankin, 2018).

The state of white supremacy and nationalism is alive and well in both the United States and Europe. White nationalist groups have used the internet and social media as a recruitment tool to foster a rising tide of Afrophobia/anti-Blackness, and other forms of racial xenophobia on both sides of the Atlantic. This has taken a particularly viscous turn against immigrant and refugee populations. Critical race theory (CRT), Afrophobia/anti-blackness are just one of many conceptual frameworks that have evolved as a scholarly critique based on historical and lived experiences of how laws and policies have been used to support white supremacy and devalue the very lives of persons of color, especially Black populations globally (Bonilla-Silva, 2015; Christian, 2018; Ray et al., 2017). A major tenet of CRT is the use of counterstories to challenge the white majoritarian story of continued racial progress in the Western European and U.S. liberal state (Goldberg, 2006). CRT initial scholars such as Bell (1992), Matsuda (1996) in law, Solórzano and Yosso (2002), Delgado Bernal (2002), Yosso (2006), Peréz-Huber and Munóz (2021), Cook and Dixson (2013) and Martinez (2020) in writing and rhetoric studies have argued for the importance of counterstories that push back against the myths of racial progress narratives. Instead, the counterstories in CRT serve as a racialized reality check regarding how and what racial minorities endure as they are never really seen as European or always have socially constructed foreigner status. This particular social construction of foreigner status connects to Afrophobia/anti-Blackness in Europe, through the role that colonialization and its deleterious impact had toward creating a fear of being African and subsequently feeding into European alarm over the increased African presence on the continent (Oro, 2012).

Our purpose is to use the CRT format of counterstory telling through the fictional account of a Somali refugee who makes his way to Europe, driven by economic conditions of poverty and violence/civil war in the global south, and an imagined sense of claiming of European roots. Using CRT and Afrophobia/anti-Blackness to analyze race and racism in the European context, we seek to acknowledge and validate the complexity of counterstory as a dynamic explainer of discriminatory macro and micro racial conditions, especially those faced by Black refugees/migrants. For our paper, we will first briefly introduce CRT and Afrophobia/anti-Blackness and justify “counterstory as a methodology through the use of a narrative method to theorize” (Martinez, 2020, p. 17) the racialized discrimination and abuse faced by Black refugees in Europe. Our fictionalized counterstory will function as an example of the depth and pervasiveness what Europe’s racial borders are and how they are enforced through an adherence to whiteness, imperialism, and neocolonialism (Essed & Trienkens, 2008; Reynolds, 2021). The counterstory is of a Somali refugee, his journey to Europe, and what he faced when he arrived in the empire where he expected opportunity and acceptance but instead received racial backlash and harsh treatment. We will conclude with a CRT/anti-Blackness discussion of the counterstory within the broader European context of racism and refugee migrant status.

Summary of CRT and Afrophobia/Anti-Blackness, Counterstories, and Why They Are Needed in the European Context

Critical race theory has its U.S. origins in discipline-based critiques related to the historical social construction and reality of race, racism, and discrimination (Crenshaw, 2021; Delgado & Stefancic, 2000; Green, 2021). Based on these foundational frameworks of race and racial discrimination/oppression, critical race theory emerged out of the discussions and debates in law concerning critical legal studies and its critique of the formalized legal traditions of legal theory and adjudication. CRT scholars argued that conceptions of race and racial oppression were accepted realities and the ideology and assumptions of racism were ingrained in the political and legal structures of law-making institutions (Bell, 1992; Crenshaw et al., 1995). CRT was rooted in a set of tenets that formed its conceptual framework of analysis which were as follows: (a) the permanence of race and racism; (b) CRT as a challenge to the dominant ideologies of White supremacy; (c) the centrality of experiential knowledge of specific person groups of color to critically examine the effects of racist ideologies and action through their voices; (d) the notion of interest convergence, i.e., incremental civil rights progress for Black Americans only comes when the interests of Whites are highlighted, elevated and kept entrenched; (e) the concept of intersectionality in the analysis of race, gender, language, social class and other elements of identity; and (f) a commitment to racial social justice action. As a form of oppositional scholarship, CRT challenges the experience of White European Americans as the normative standard. Rather, CRT grounds its conceptual framework in the distinctive contextual experiences of people of color and racial oppression, using literary narrative knowledge and storytelling to challenge the existing social construction of race (Martinez, 2020).

Afrophobia and anti-Blackness has also emerged from an analysis of systemic racism by taking the position that there are specific forms of racism manifested against Black populations (Wilderson, 2020). Afrophobia and anti-Blackness is distinct in its critique of racism in that its focus has been on the philosophical and socio-historical of Black persons as non-human or sub-human (Michael, 2017). Anti-Blackness also places importance on the powerful remaining conditions of slavery and how it manifests itself in the current context of increasing violence directed at Black people in the United S., Europe, South America, and other global locations (Costa Vargas, 2018). Similarly, Afrophobia in Europe is commonly tied to “a specific form of racism that is defined by acts of violence or discrimination including racist speech, fueled by historic abuses and negative stereotyping, leading to exclusion and dehumanization of people of African descent” (European Network Against Racism, 2017). In combination with each other, this critique is connected the fundamental belief of Black people as subhuman, which led to slavery, the middle passage, and the experience of social death, which gives Black people globally a different epistemology and ontology of racism and its effects on Black people (Dumas, 2016; Ray et al., 2017; Sexton, 2010).

While CRT and Afrophobia/anti-Blackness analysis have been more acknowledged (and currently under attack by right-wing conservative movements) in law, education, and other fields in the United States, it has not gained as much traction in Europe. To be sure, there are European dedicated scholars such as Gillborn (2008), and the Center for Research in Race and Education Birmingham, United Kingdom (https://www.brimingham.ac.UK/research.crre/index.aspx). However, critical race theory has been viewed by most scholars and policy makers as an American phenomenon with little application to European ethnic and racial relations. In European context we initially saw two common misconceptions surrounding racism scholarship. The first is that social class position rather than race is the dynamic explainer of the status of minorities, and the second is that the concept of race was put to rest after the horrors of the Nazi regime post World War II (WWII). Möschel (2007, 2011) explained that Europeans have viewed racism through the lens of the horrors of the Holocaust and anti-Semitism while only marginally paying attention to the racial exploitation impact of Europe’s colonial past. Furthermore, he asserts that there has been a willingness to adopt color-evasion to downplay racism against persons of color and religious/nationalities (Muslims and Islamic phobia), co-existing with a rise in white Western European nationalism that sees immigrants as permanent foreigners who are culturally different and therefore will never be fully European.

Möschel (2021) posits that there is a need for a critical race theory perspective in Europe, because it’s broader and more nuanced scope allows European leaders and policy makers to see how and why current anti-discrimination law is too limited and does not critically look at the racial state (see Goldberg, 2006). Furthermore, since the late 1980s/early 1990s there has been a rise in overt incidents of racism in Europe. This has been in tandem with a rise in new white European nationalist movements that have tapped into deep feelings of threats to the Western European ways of life. As groups from Eastern Europe to Turkish populations settling in Germany, to Muslims re-locating along with Black Africans from sub-Saharan parts of the continent coming to Europe in search of better economic conditions or fleeing violence and trauma in their countries of origin. This movement has resulted in an increasing number of Western Europeans who are more fearful of refugees and migration It has triggered racism, xenophobia, and violence against those who are seen as “other.” This fear has also manifested itself against women of color. Wing and Smith (2006) and Staiano (2015) have utilized critical race feminism to point out how European laws have specifically targeted immigrant women of color through restrictions on the wearing of hijabs, to marriage and divorce rights that favor the control of their female bodies/sexuality, employment, and child custody. Overall, as Slootweg et al. (2019) and Goldberg (2006) point out, there is a racial Europeanization that has contributed to quantitative measures of the European imagination as an ideological response to “otherizing” of different racialized populations. This type of racism is a reactionary measured response to the “alternation of whiteness” (Slootweg et al., 2019, p. 148), that reinforces the erasure of race and fully ignores the ways that racism and whiteness and white supremacy have been rooted in the epistemological and sense-making European consciousness and state actions.

We argue that the counterstories of Black people serve as a powerful pushback voice that disrupts the hegemony of the domination of whiteness and white supremacy when it comes to analyzing the, what, why and how questions of racism and anti-Blackness and Afrophobia against these groups. A key part of CRT scholarship has been the use of personal stories, and fiction as a means of sharing with readers the individual and collective voice(s) of African American and other subordinate groups of color (Bell, 1992; 1999; Delgado, 1989; Matsuda, 1993). One of the main purposes of the intentional use of counterstories was to pull the readers into understanding the impact of individual and structural racism, and the major discriminatory impact on persons of color based on their racialized identity. The voices of Black people, African Americans, and other specific groups of color through the counterstories are important to present in fiction or literary essays as a methodological form of scholarly research so others, particularly white Europeans and Americans can see and feel the ways the law and other aspects of institutionalized racism had been used to disempower racially marginalized groups. Counterstory works through an application of CRT to qualitative research methods, or CRT as a research methodology (Martinez, 2020). Delgado (1989) called for the legitimacy of counterstorytelling of discrimination that sought to disrupt the established story of assumed racial progress. His article set in motion the reliance on the use of counterstories as a methodological part of CRT data representation of racism and the documentation of the racial condition of persons of color. Delgado (1990) also made the case for the importance of racial voice(s) in how counterstories are presented in challenging the ways that constitutional and administrative law assumes a “whiteness of property” along with judicial decision making in the courts. Solórzano and Yosso (2002) made the argument that counterstorytelling should be viewed as a legitimate analytical way to frame qualitative research and interpret data results. Their definition of CRT methodology was partly grounded in the intertwining of reflexive student experience with racism and the existing historical and present research on race and racism.

Our paper builds on the utility of counterstory to break the entrenched patterns of color-evasion and the denial of racism and specific anti-Blackness and Afrophobia toward refugee migrant populations in Europe. The following fictional counterstory of the European lion refugee aims to make this point. The counterstory of Asad serves a purpose in that the racial realist portrayal of his everyday racism and encounters with anti-Blackness and Afrophobia disrupts the acceptance of stock stories of racism as non-existent in Europe. CRT counterstories are intended to challenge the commonly accepted reasons about a non-racialized world (Delgado, 1989). Counterstories rely on facts and incidents of macro and microaggressions of racism to illustrate its systemic and institutionalized nature and how it is enacted against Black people and other persons of color (Bell, 1992). The citations in the counterstory are references to news stories which inspired the shaping of Asad’s narrative. His story is based on a compilation of true stories about the African refugee struggle in Europe reported in the news in the summer of 2019 when the lead author lived in Italy, and she began writing this counterstory. The purpose of using actual news accounts and social media tracing the incidents of racism against African refugees and asylum seekers is to create a composite account that stresses the importance of speaking back to poverty, the illusion of freedom through citizenship status, dehumanization, and criminalization through the lens of CRT, anti-Blackness, and Afrophobia.

The Lion Refugee in Europe: A Critical Race/Anti-Blackness Counterstory

The summer was mounting to be one of the warmest the Cape Horn of Africa had ever seen. In the city of Mogadishu, droves of people flocked to Lido Beach on the coast of Somalia to escape the sweltering summer heat. A popular seaside getaway, Lido Beach was first established during the era of Italian colonization in the region (Bjunior, 2018). During the first half of the 20th century, Italy occupied Mogadishu as the capital of what was then referred to as Italian Somaliland (Bjunior, 2018). Following the end of the WWII, however, most Italian settlements uprooted themselves as Italy was forced to abandon control over all its colonies. Places like Lido Beach which had been established with the rise of Italian Somaliland were left as everlasting reminders of the imposing presence of Italian society and culture in Somalia (Bjunior, 2018).

On one excruciatingly sweltering summer day in July, Lido Beach functioned as a backdrop for a gruesome scene. The pristine sea landscape, crowded with sand and beachgoers became a host for horrific turmoil. A day of taking sun on the beach quickly turned black with clouds of smoke as agonizing screams rang through the air. A suicide bomber had hijacked a truck and rampaged the beach. Six hundred civilians were killed and 300 were injured in the bombing.

Attacks like this were a common threat to the city as it was occupied by Somalia’s most prominent Islamic extremist group, known as the Al Shabab (Fletcher et al., 2021). Civil War fighting in Somalia had been prevalent for years, with the Al-Shabab spearheading much of the conflict as a domineering force. The crime-ridden streets were unsafe for civilians, many of whom had begun to seek refuge from the war zone in other countries.

Twenty-year-old Mogadishu native, Asad Hasan had grown up in the city and witnessed firsthand the dangers of being Somali. One of Asad’s best childhood friends had been lounging on Lido Beach on the day of the bombing and been killed. A young man with his entire life ahead of him had been denied any chance to experience the world or make a life for himself. His imagined interpretation of this horrific scene turned over and over in Asad’s head as he mourned the death of his friend. Asad prayed he would not fall victim to a similar fate. Many Somalis, as they reached Asad’s age, were spurred to seek refuge out of Somalia with aspirations and desires to be educated and have a chance to live a life free of terror and killings (Fisher, 2004). At this point in his young life, Asad felt impelled to leave this oppressive and futureless place. Though leaving Mogadishu would mean leaving his mother and father behind, Asad knew they would both support his escape from repression. Asad’s older cousin Adbul had left Mogadishu 2 years prior with dreams of attending a Western school and receiving a European education. The last Asad’s family had heard from Abdul, he had made it to Libya and planned to embark from a port there and make his way to Europe, where he was hopeful about gaining asylum as a refugee. Asad had always looked up to Abdul with admiration for his fearless nature and unrelenting capacity for taking risks. From the time of Abdul’s departure, Asad longed to make the journey to Europe and reunite with his cousin.

Another, more personal, influence driving Asad’s desire to go to Europe was Italy. Asad fantasized about the country since he was a boy for reasons, he seldom shared with anyone. Asad grew up listening to his grandmother’s recollections of a time when Mogadishu was still the capital of Italian Somaliland. During the period of Italy’s global colonization before the end of World War II, Mogadishu was called “Mogadiscio” by the community of Italians who had come to settle in the city (Bjunior, 2018). Asad’s mother was born multiracial, half Somali, and half Italian. Her father was an Italian colonist who had come to Mogadishu from Italy to work in a leather factory. Ensuing the end of the war, however, he returned to Italy along with most of the Italian colonizers, leaving behind Asad’s grandmother with their young daughter, Asad’s mother. According to his grandmother, Asad’s grandfather intended to send for her and Asad’s mother once he made it safely back to Italy, however, following his departure from Mogadishu she never heard from him again. For this reason, Asad’s family did not speak much of his grandfather or their Italian heritage. Despite the family’s resentment toward his grandfather, Asad felt his grandmother believed something terrible had happened and disabled his grandfather from sending for her. Asad’s mother, on the other hand, had felt betrayed by the man for her entire life and prohibited Asad from probing the matter. Asad’s mother grew up with the stigma of being born from “Madamato,” a term used to address relations between native Somali women and Italian colonizers (Bjunior, 2018). Her biracial identity caused her to experience constant racial prejudice from Somali nationalist attitudes. She married Asad’s father who was full Somali when she was 21 and they raised Asad to be Somali. Despite the absence of any obvious Mulatto resemblance in Asad’s physical appearance, he always felt drawn to learn more about his Italian heritage. The period during which Italy occupied the colony of Italian Somaliland was a flourishing time for the Mogadishu (Bjunior, 2018). Asad couldn’t help feeling drawn to the modern industriousness of the country which he held lineage to and built the city he’d grown up in. Cultural remnants of Italian colonization were visibly present throughout Mogadishu and fed Asad’s infatuation with his Italian roots all his life (Bjunior, 2018). This guilty enchantment with his heritage was another driving force behind Asad’s desire to flee Somalia and venture toward Italy.

With his parents’ support, Asad set out on the long and daunting journey to Libya with visions of Italy and new opportunities on the horizon. Asad’s father had managed to arrange a ride from a family friend with a car out of Mogadishu as far as Baidoa, the capital of Somalia’s southwestern Bay region (World Statesmen, n.d.). Following his arrival in Baidoa, Asad bargained a ride from a man traveling to Ethiopia and from there he traveled by foot northbound through the Sahara Desert catching as many rides as possible he could barter. In total, the passage to Libya consisted of over 2 months spent in transit. Asad survived by means of whatever food and shelter he was able to find.

Once in Libya, Asad realized that conditions were not much unlike those he had left behind in Mogadishu. Libya was in the thick of its own Civil War, with militant Islamist groups and other factions in a dispute over land and resources (Daragahi, 2019). Not long following his arrival, Asad was detained in the war-tormented streets of Libya’s capital, Tripoli, which was deteriorating under the pressure from ceaseless gunfire, violence, and death (Pai, 2018). Within the Tripoli detention center, Asad was exposed to the worst living conditions known to humanity and witnessed some of the most dreadful cases of inhumanity one could imagine. Brutal beatings, sexual assaults, forced labor, suicides and kidnapping by traffickers were all standard occurrences within the detention centers in Tripoli (Chandler, 2019). Many said traumas were just as likely to be experienced by children as they were by adult detainees. This was most disconcerting for Asad as he watched numerous young children, many of whom were orphans, undergo inconceivable harm and abuse in the center (Daragahi, 2019).

Asad was disheartened by his imprisoning circumstances. He had become stuck in an extremely compromising position and did not know whether he’d ever be granted an opportunity to leave. Libya was not supposed to be his destination. Asad would not let this be the end of his expedition toward freedom. Hastily, he began to investigate viable options for the next leg of his journey, the voyage across the Mediterranean. Asad’s inquiry, however, led to the disappointing realization that this process would be more of a challenge than expected, and take months, if not years, to accomplish. Asad encountered a man within the center who recounted his failed attempt at crossing the sea in an unreliable, overcrowded inflatable boat that was stopped by the Libyan Coast Guard (Chandler, 2019). The number of refugees returned to the Libyan detention system from this excursion was less than half of the initial embarking amount. Many people perished due to their lack of resources or had fallen victim to the unforgiving conditions of the sea and drowned. The man had been waiting for his next opportunity to embark on another smuggler’s boat for over a year. He agreed to inform Asad once he received news concerning prospective transportation prospects.

Asad suffered through the torturous environment in Tripoli for about 20 unbearable months. At last, when all hope had been lost, word came of a well-known smuggler whose boat was rumored to be returning from its last voyage in 1 week and was offering to transport another group by the end of the month. This was Asad’s chance. After 2 years since his departure from Somalia, this information offered Asad with a sense of hope he had not felt for a while. If he could just board a boat and leave the African continent for good, Asad felt he’d be free at last. After 2 weeks of anticipation, his aspirations to set sail across the Mediterranean Sea became reality. Asad came in touch with the well-known smuggler and paid all of what he had left for a spot on the next passage to the Italian island of Lampedusa, the primary port of entry for those migrating to Europe (Fisher, 2004). However, with new challenges on the horizon, Asad’s quest for safety and a new life was still in its beginning stages.

Asad and 50 other refugees squeezed onto the smuggler’s inflatable boat, which could have passed as giant pool raft, for the long-anticipated voyage across the Mediterranean (Daragahi, 2019). This was a defining moment in Asad’s journey. He was finally on his way to Europe. Despite the precarity of the sailing conditions, Asad felt one step closer on his quest toward liberation. This hope quickly faded, however, about 3 weeks into the voyage. Merciless sailing conditions causes the inflatable boat to be capsized, ejecting all its passengers into the middle of the sea. Some refugees drowned, unable to muster enough strength to keep afloat among the wreckage. Asad managed to stay afloat long enough to be saved by a rescue ship. The ship was owned by a German non-governmental organization whose captain had been combing the waters on this route rescuing shipwrecked and abandoned migrants for years.

Less than a quarter of the refugees with whom Asad had departed from Tripoli’s shores survived the accident. Rehabilitation amenities were in short supply aboard the rescue ship and the captain would need to harbor soon for the safety of the migrants, many of whom were suffering worsening ailments, malnutrition, and exhaustion. The ability to do so, however, proved to be quite the challenge. The captain had noticed a significant difference in the way ships like hers were received by Italian ports in the recent months following the rise of far-right politics against immigration in Italy (Picheta & Ruotolo, 2019). Not once in her all her years of this occupation had the captain of the ship experienced as much difficulty with finding an accessible port in which to disembark. Over 2 weeks had gone by without authorization to dock and the situation was becoming grimmer for the distraught migrants on board. Asad was delirious from dehydration and seasickness. Circumstances on the ship were growing more desperate by the day but the Italian port authorities would not budge. New migration laws were recently implemented which enforced the closure of all Italian ports to migrant rescue ships (Picheta & Ruotolo, 2019). Finally, despite the potential fine of $60,000, the captain made the executive decision to dock in the Italian port of Lampedusa, without consent (Picheta & Ruotolo, 2019). When the ship landed on the shore of Lampedusa, the captain was handcuffed and arrested by Italian police forces who were anticipating the ship’s arrival (Pianigiani & Povoledo, 2019).

After disembarking, Asad and the rest of those who’ d been rescued by the ship were sent to a first reception center for refugees in Lampedusa. Subsequently, the refugees were transported to a reception center for asylum seekers on the outskirts of Rome where Asad found himself, yet again, in quarters too tight for comfort with hundreds of fellow discouraged refugees. The living conditions at the center in Rome were unimaginably disgusting, however, Asad had become almost numb to such horrifying settings. He shared a bed with a stranger in a room filled with 20 other beds. All meals consisted of the same god-awful slop and the lack of functional plumbing resulted in communal defecation spots around the floors of the center.

This situation, though still a dreadfully inhumane living environment, was much more tranquil in comparison to the detention center in Libya (Libya: Nightmarish detention for migrants, asylum seekers, 2019; Migrants face “massacre” at Libya detention center, 2019; VICE News, 2015). Unlike Libya, Rome did not present ceaseless threats of a rampant war zone (Chandler, 2019).

There was one common objective driving the mass of refugees residing in the reception center in Rome and that was gaining asylum. These were the survivors, those who endured horrifying encounters and conditions to make it to this point. Obtaining asylum was the only option in the eyes of these beaten down but hopeful refugees. The process of gaining asylum in Italy, however, can take years (Fisher, 2004). Asylum seekers like Asad, who had escaped extreme threats back home, would typically have been able to obtain “humanitarian protection” and protect him from being deported. Gaining humanitarian protection would have allowed Asad to work and reside legally in Italy until the status of his application for asylum was decided (“Humanitarian Protection,” n.d.). However, thanks to the recent implementation of the “Security Decree,” this protection had been made unavailable to him (Chandler, 2019). The Security, or Salvivi, Decree was a piece of anti-immigration legislation put into place with the rise of the Lega, a far-right political party and named after the leader of the party, and Italy’s Minister of the Interior, Matteo Salvini (Chandler, 2019). This fabled character, as it turned out, was the root of the hostility which greeted the rescue ship. Salvini’s legislation, quite purposefully, created more public resentment toward African migrants and support for far-right, nationalist ideals (Chandler, 2019). On these new legal grounds, humanitarian protection received by asylum seekers, including those whose applications had been denied as well as those whose applications were still pending, was taken away (Chandler, 2019). Once stripped of their humanitarian protection, immigrants are deemed as “illegal” and are susceptible to deportation. Losing one’s humanitarian protection resulted in losing their legal residency and the right to work. By revoking humanitarian rights, the Salvini Decree purposefully placed immigrants in a perilous position which made it impossible for them to reside legally in Italy whatsoever (Giuffrida & Tondo, 2018).

Another harmful characteristic of the Salvini Decree was the gradual dismantling of the system of governmentally funded reception centers which housed thousands of refugees around the country (Giuffrida & Tondo, 2018). Asad was given only a few days’ notice before being evicted from the reception center; he was inhabiting in Rome. This closing was detrimental to the refugees residing within, many of whom had lived there for durations of months or years. Most refugees lived in the reception center while awaiting the status of their applications for protection (Gatopoulos & Winfield, 2019).

Most all experienced unfathomable degrees of torture and trauma back in their various places of origin. Now, after everything they’d gone through, refugees were being forced to the streets, stripped of any protections, or support they had previously managed to achieve. The new legislation left droves of vulnerable refugees not only stripped of their previously obtained humanitarian protection, but also homeless. Many who had managed to obtain substantial means of work, now found themselves unemployed and undocumented. Those seeking asylum, like Asad, took to the streets, forced to live off charity, begging, or illegally vending among the masses of tourists while awaiting the status of their applications for asylum. Salvini’s belligerent and uncompromising stance on immigration seemed to be promoting the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment among Italians (Chanting “Italians first,” right-wing groups march across Italy, 2018; Giuffrida & Tondo, 2018). Salvini had quite strategically framed refugees as threats to Italy’s security and “managed” the situation by increasing the number of undocumented residents for authorities to detain (Horowitz, 2019). As a result, refugees were positioned in a precarious state, like what most hoped to escape by venturing to Italy in the first place. To Asad’s disappointment, his future in Italy now looked much less promising than he had imagined (Controversy over closure of Rome asylum seeker reception centre, 2019; DePetris, 2018).

After he was evicted from the reception center in Rome, Asad caught wind of other refugees who planned to venture south and transfer to another center. He weighed his options and decided to try his luck on the streets in Rome. Asad was fed up with the dismal living conditions he’d put up with for the past 3 years. He remembered hearing of daring refugees in Rome who made a living from vending on the tourist-infested streets. At this point, anything appealed more to Asad than being stuck in a center with one working toilet per its 500 plus residents. Asad turned instead toward becoming an undocumented street vendor for the time being. He and a few more refugees he met in the reception center soon found shelter in a vacant warehouse close to Rome’s city center and took up the salesperson trade. Asad’s entrance into the business led to his ironic realization that his African ethnicity was simultaneously acting as the cause for his rejection from Italian society and enabling his survival. By selling African jewelry and trinkets, Asad was capitalizing on the fact that his ethnicity was racialized in Italian society as being “exotic,” and something to be obtained through the purchase of silly knickknacks on the streets.

Within 6 months, Asad became a full-fledged street salesperson, with a sizable amount of firsthand knowledge regarding the ins and outs of Rome. Having adapted quite well to his new and precarious lifestyle, Asad felt as though he had finally gained some control of his destiny. Despite the constant danger he faced as an undocumented vendor, Asad felt freed by the fact that he was no longer living among a large mass of helpless refugees at the mercy of corrupt government-run organizations. The Somali meaning of Asad is “lion” and symbolizes strength and resilience. Once he’d become accustomed to his new occupation as a seller, Asad began to go by Leon, an Italian name meaning lion. In doing so, he felt better suited to infiltrate and ground his roots in Italian society. In changing his name, Asad altered his identity to feel more accepted in Italian society.

After 4 years of running and surviving, Asad felt as though he was finally living. No word had arrived regarding the status on his application for asylum and he was doubtful it ever would. Nonetheless, Asad felt freer than ever before in his 24 years of life. He was living on his terms without the fear of meeting death around every corner or having to brave the sickening communal living conditions of refugee camps. Though he was constantly avoiding the eye of the police in Rome, the conditions he faced there were much better than any he’d experienced since leaving Mogadishu. For Asad, being on the run was exhilarating. Having to scoop up an entire tarp littered with merchandise at the sound of sirens and spirting through tourist-filled Roman streets was a daily activity.

Asad built relationships with many fellow vendors and was becoming a part of a community of African immigrants, which helped him feel prouder of his migrant identity. He valued this sense of community in Rome more than anything because it kept him connected with his cultural roots. After a long day’s work of vending, Asad would often socialize with friends in a restaurant owned by a Somali migrant who had operated the business for 15 years as an Italian citizen. Paradoxically, it was here in this restaurant, Asad’s tiny slice of home in Rome, where he came face to face with death.

On a warm summer night in mid-July after a full day of selling, Asad was sipping on coke with ice and lemon in his friend’s Somali restaurant. The calmness of this comforting setting was abruptly disrupted when gunshots and the sound of shattering glass began to explode throughout the restaurant. Asad blacked out and when he awoke, he was on the floor laying in a puddle of spilled coke and blood, his left forearm throbbing in pain and his ears ringing. The shooter was a far-right activist who’d gone on a shooting spree, targeting refugees anywhere he could find them. Later upon his capture, the attacker claimed to have killed in the name of Salvini and the return of fascism. Asad lost two close friends in the attack; one was the owner of the restaurant.

The days following this event were low for Asad. He received medical attention the night of the shooting from a humanitarian aid group and now wore a cast on his arm. This was not an ideal condition for his occupation as a salesperson. Asad was left fear-stricken and violated by this heinous crime and being targeted solely because of the color of his skin. Asad jumped through every hoop placed before him following his arrival to Italy. Not once did he lash out violently or engage in any criminal activity, aside from street vending without legal documents, which would be unavailable to him for a time unforeseen and this was simply out of his control. Asad’s feelings toward Italy became bitter and unappreciative. This was supposed to be his chance at making a life for himself in the country with which he had an innate connection. Asad thought of all the times his grandmother spoke of the Fascism that infected Somalia during the war and compared her stories with his own experience. Before even disembarking from the rescue ship in the Mediterranean, Asad felt the ramifications of policies and mindsets not so dissimilar from those his grandmother must have experienced.

This changing political climate frightened Asad and the shooting was proof that despite his prior keenness toward his situation in Rome, Italy was just as unsafe as anywhere he traveled since leaving Somalia (Renzi, 2015). Asad wanted to leave as soon as he had the chance. He thought that he would make the journey to another country where policies handling immigration were not as utterly impossible and outright racist. Though he would be endangering his own life, Asad was willing to take the risk. Considering all he endured, Asad was unfazed by any obstacles he risked encountering (Horowitz, 2018). With his last ounce of hope, Asad began to pursue the next portion of his journey and a way out of Italy.

Discussion: What Does Asad’s Counterstory Speak Back to?

In this section, we wish to put Asad’s counterstory in conversation with the larger dominant narrative which frames the official story of a crisis of borders and invasion of African refugee migrants into Europe (Warmington, 2020). The creation of immigration control laws and restrictions on migrants, refugees and asylum seekers was rooted in right-wing conservative political campaigns for European racial control of national borders, which served as the first barrier. Second, Afrophobia and anti-Blackness was present regarding Asad’s realization that his African identity was viewed as a racial threat and his and others presence could easily be interpreted as part of the racial containment. Yet, he was also part of a stereotypical cultural heritage that values Africanness and Blackness; but only under limited means of earnings such as being street vendors in European cities. African migrants/refugees don’t choose to come to Europe to do this, but many do as their only choice open to them as they wait in limbo for government decisions on documentation and work permits (Davies, 2017).

Third, the threat of violence in the name of keeping Europe (i.e., White Christian) for Europeans, turned into emotional and physical trauma that is representative of what many Black Europeans face (Who are Somalia’s al-Shabab?, 2017). The Afrophobia and anti-Blackness illustrated in this counterstory is emblematic of the threat leveled against Black populations in Europe, the United States, and other global contexts (Costa Vargas, 2018). The counterstory of Asad raises the importance of how racial paranoia shapes political and cultural arguments, and how this leads to backlash violence and laws passed that double down on the permanence of racism. Finally, it is important to acknowledge the importance of using critical race theory in making racism central and key to validating the experiential knowledge and voices of Black Europeans as well as African refugees and migrants (Paynter, 2019).

A CRT/Afrophobia anti-Blackness analysis through the story of Asad posits that the racist past of a nation-state exerts contemporary effects; race is a social construction whose meanings and effects are contingent and change over time; the concept of color-evasion in law, education policy, social policy and the argument for race neutral practices often serve to undermine the interests of persons of color; and that immigration laws restrict international persons of color entry into the United States, and in our counterstory Europe (Carbado & Roithmayr, 2014). This also serves to regulate the racial composition of the nation and perpetuate the view persons of these nationalities as foreigners and potential enemies who will take over and replace White Christians (both in Europe and the United States).

Conclusion

Our CRT Afrophobia/anti-Blackness counterstory should be seen in the context of how the laws and overall discourse and structures of that CRT/anti-Blackness critiques in Europe reveal wide-spread anti-Blackness and overall racism in the form of violence, discriminatory racial profiling by individuals and the police, and overt discrimination in the employment and housing sectors of the European political economy. This counterstory is meant to show how the experiences of one immigrant represents a composite experience of racial oppression, particularly tied to the role and status of being Black. The objective of this counterstory is to disrupt the formalist consciousness of the color-evasive European ideology around race. A counterstory such as this should ignite discussion, abolition and unsettle the racial progress narrative both within Europe and the United States.