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I'm not sorry I'm an economic migrant'

By Rachel Sylvester

(Filed: 08/09/2001)

 

THREE words are etched into the glass at the front of the headquarters of the Transport and General Workers Union - choice, equality and justice.

 

A sign in the window reads "Solidarity of labour". But there is not much solidarity between the Labour Party and the trade unions at the moment.

 

The brothers think their core values have been betrayed by the man they helped to win power for a second time just three months ago.

 

So, Tony Blair will not get an easy ride when he addresses the Trades Union Congress in Brighton next week.

 

Bill Morris, general secretary of the TGWU, says: "There won't be any divorce or separation. but the Big Tent has two sides. There are times when a good friend has to stand up and say, 'Hold on'."

 

Mr Morris, the most prominent black man in British political life and head of one of Labour's biggest union backers, is not an extremist. Had he not ended up as a trade unionist he would have loved to have played cricket for the West Indies.

 

He is respected both at Number 10 and the Treasury for both his views and the courteous way in which he expresses them.

 

It was he who brokered the deal with the oil tanker drivers that broke the fuel crisis. The soft Jamaican lilt in his voice has a slight Birmingham undertone and he laughs a lot as he speaks.

 

But, when we meet for coffee, the union leader is seething. The Prime Minister's plan to involve private companies in running the public services is, he thinks, not just wrong but immoral.

 

He warns: "If you think there's a row going on already, then wait until a real row starts." Mr Morris argues that schools and hospitals are about more than health and education.

 

He says: "The public services don't just define the quality of your life - they define the moral state of the nation. If the private sector largely provides public services, then you have a totally different society: you have a market society.

 

"We're prepared to sign up to the market economy but we draw the line at the market society. Democracy would be undermined."He snorts at Mr Blair's suggestion that he simply wants to tap into the expertise of the private sector.

 

He says: "We don't sign up to the idea that private's good and public is bad. We haven't seen too much evidence of that on our railways, or in companies such as Marks and Spencer or Marconi."

 

Like a growing number of Labour supporters, Mr Morris is frustrated by the Prime Minister's reluctance to express traditional Labour values - such as the desire to narrow the gap between rich and poor, or to redistribute wealth.

 

He says: "One of the key and central objectives and commitments of a Labour government should be to have equitable and fair distribution of resource."  

 

He is also deeply opposed to the idea that Britain might co-operate with George Bush's proposals for a missile defence system. "The Cold War has ended now; we should be looking at the hot peace."

 

But his main criticism of the Government is over its treatment of asylum seekers. "Once people are in our country they deserve to be treated with respect and fairness. I'm not satisfied that we're fulfilling our international obligations."

 

He is appalled by the detention centres, the snatch squads and the voucher system introduced by Labour to try to discourage immigrants and asylum seekers.  

 

He says: "We're constructing all these artificial barriers with a sign saying, 'Britain is Closed'. The existing policy just isn't working at all."

 

Mr Morris arrived from Jamaica 46 years ago at the age of 16. It is ironic, he says, that if he flew into Britain now he would be sent straight back.

 

He says; "My family came to this country as economic migrants, and we make no apology for that. It's not the reason you come that matters; it's what you do when you're here. I hope that, as an economic migrant, I've put a little bit back into society."

 

Britain should, he argues, stop seeing immigration as a problem and start thinking of it as a solution, welcoming economic migrants as well as refugees.

 

"We have to recognise the reality that there are 12 to 15 million people moving around the globe. The American economy has been built on managed migration. That seems to me a much more sensible way of dealing with the issues."

 

There is also, he says, a moral case for increased immigration: if rich countries take natural resources from the Third World, then they have a responsibility to accept poor workers from there, too. "If you have a bun, you can't just pick the currants off and throw the rest away."

 

The United Nations Convention on Refugees, signed in 1951, must be rewritten to allow freer movement of workers, he believes. "The world has changed but we're still using the same blunt instruments. The test of fleeing persecution just in the context of living with a dictator isn't right any more - poverty is a persecution in itself."

 

At the same time, Mr Morris argues that Britain should make better use of the asylum seekers who come to this country by allowing them to work while their applications are being processed.  

 

"I've spent time with asylum seekers who are qualified architects, GPs and teachers. We have a chronic shortage of these professional people.

 

"It would be a much better economic use of people's skills to let them work, rather than locking them up in a meaningless, self-destroying environment."

 

But does he think the public would accept a more relaxed approach to immigration? "There are no votes in it," he says. "But we've got a tradition of being liberal and considerate, and we should build on that."

 

Politicians, he thinks, have to be very careful about the words they use to talk about asylum. "Some of the language in the past was encouraging the acists to believe that they had permission to attack people who don't speak like them. I'm delighted that he rhetoric has been toned down."

 

What does he think caused the recent race riots in cities around the country? "I don't know for sure," he replies, "but if you are subjected to a level of social and economic deprivation to the point of hopelessness, it's not very difficult to find a way of expressing your frustration."

 

He is horrified by the Government's proposal to encourage the creation of more faith-based schools because he thinks they will encourage segregation.  

 

"It's priming a time-bomb in large areas of our community to go off in 20 years' time, which is very worrying indeed," he says. "I want to see the social consequences of our education policies considered . . . The social discohesion of our society could be in the making."

 

Mr Morris has encountered some racism in Britain but he says it is unusual. "This guy came up to me outside the union building last year and said, 'Why don't you go home, you black bastard'. I said, 'I am home - I live here, this is my building'. I get my fair hare of hate mail. But these people are the rare exception."

 

Britain has, he thinks, changed dramatically since he arrived in the 1950s. "It's a different country now - it's much better informed. We've moved on enormously. There are black MPs, black general secretaries."

 

He clearly remembers the day he left the Caribbean sun and arrived in rainy Birmingham. "It was quite a culture shock," he says, chuckling.  

 

"As William Hague might say, it was a foreign land. I had been born and brought up in a village of 40 houses - you could hardly see the buildings because of the foliage - and I woke up one morning to a totally different environment, totally different architecture, totally different weather. But survival is the motivator. The will to win gets you through."

 

Despite his kindly manner the union leader admits that he would not be where he is without being a fighter with a steely heart. He thinks this inner strength comes from his childhood in Jamaica.

 

"The sense of discipline that you learn from day one stays with you," he says. "We all had to perform basic tasks before we went to school in the morning - duties around the house, animals to clear out and to pick food for. It wasn't exactly a work ethic but it was an ethic of responsibility."

 

He also acquired a strong sense of community. "I didn't have one parent - everyone in the village was your parent; anyone could discipline you but they also had a duty to protect you. If you came home from school and your parents were in the fields, you would go next door and you'd be looked after."

 

It sounds idyllic. He goes back regularly to fulfil his duties as chancellor of the University of Technology

in Kingston. Does he ever regret leaving Jamaica?

 

"Sometimes, when it's snowing, I think, 'Why did I come here?' " he says. "But the thought soon passes. I enjoy living in England. I've made my home here, and I think I've made a contribution."