GREECE ..THE HOTSPOT IN LEROS...‏

pls read this informative text:
the titel is a bit confusing , our aim cant be "wellrun" prisons , no
ways, but the infos are important and the thoughts.
marily

https://refugeetrail.wordpress.com/2016/03/01/the-hotspot-in-leros-is-a-badly-run-prison/

ON THE REFUGEE TRAIL

THE HOTSPOT IN LEROS IS A BADLY RUN PRISON

March 1, 2016Benjamin Julian
On Friday, a hotspot was opened in Leros for incoming migrants. What is
a hotspot, you might well ask, and there are many possible answers: An
identification factory for migrants. A prison. A refugee camp run by the
police and military, enclosed in barbed wire. An Empire of
Identification. Everyone gets registered here: migrants, workers, NGOs
and volunteers. Everything in it is square; the paper forms, the
people-containers, the walkways and the wire mesh.

DSC_0286-e1456858259815-1024x507

There are three camps already on Leros, with humane staff, proper
facilities, varied activities and open doors. This does not suit the
border regime of Europe. For months it has demanded of the Greek
government, and twisted its arm relentlessly, so that it finally builds
hotspots. And now they’re here, in all their horrifying glory. Shining
metal, immaculate concrete, white gravel and rows of square boxes for
The Anonymous Unidentified to stay in until they get their papers and
can finally have an actual verified existence in the merciless eyes of
the European Union. Unless they’re of the wrong nationality, in which
case they’ll get no papers, except for a ticket back to Wherever.
Getting papers takes three days, but nobody knows how long one has to
wait for deportation.

On the day the hotspot opened, no volunteer or NGO was alerted. They
just got a random call a good while after the first arrivals, saying
that baby milk was needed. Volunteers immediately came over, and there
the refugees sat, huddled in blankets on the concrete floor of the camp
entrance. That is where newcomers are made to wait while, one after the
other, the human beings are digitized and fingerprinted, their bodies
are transformed into verifiable, printable, transferable identities.

Phone cells in the entry of the camp, which is closed to inmates,
indicating that phone calls will only be made on allowance of the camp
authorities.
Phone cells in the entrance of the camp, which is closed to inmates,
indicating that phone calls will only be made on allowance of the camp
authorities.
The refugees asked if anyone had brought water. It turned out the army
had given them a little to drink in plastic cups, but when a few people
threw them on the ground, instead of in the garbage can, the army gave
them no more.

Talking with refugees was forbidden. “Find out what they need and go,”
the men in uniform said. That is how an camp under the police and
military operates. The rules are made on the fly by a man in uniform,
habitually on a soaring power-trip, maybe even wearing blue-mirror
sunglasses in addition to the uniform to underline his privileged
anonymity in this dictatorship of identification. Volunteers that try to
help here without having registered risk being interrogated about their
purpose and threatened with imprisonment. (This is no idle fantasy, it
actually happened.) Western volunteers often feel ashamed about their
privileges over refugees. Here, the migrant-hating machine of Europe has
finally and accidentally created some twisted sort of equality.

The dividing line between registered and unregistered.
The dividing line between registered and unregistered.
What it has not created is a functioning processing facility. The
shivering new arrivals on Friday were not supplied with food or clothes,
medicine, information, doctors or legal aid. Nothing. The reception they
got was as cold and stark as the concrete they sat on. The military
seems to just expect volunteers to do their bidding, to feed and clothe
their prisoners.

And so we did.

This is what volunteering has come to. Shipping meals into prisons so
that the Greek military doesn’t have to cook them. And it gets worse.
The uniformed masters of the camp have told us that we have to collect
the garbage as well.

We can’t be codependent like this. Today we clean up the prison and feed
the prisoners, because the military can’t be bothered. What will
humanitarian work look like tomorrow?

The mental hospital Lepida, "the guilty secret of Europe", where
patients were horribly maltreated, now a detention center for
undocumented people.
The mental hospital Lepida, “the guilty secret of Europe”, where
patients were horribly maltreated, now a detention center for
undocumented people.
We should have been prepared for this. These hotspots have been planned
openly and publicly for months. They’re already being used to horrible
effect in Italy, where MSF has withdrawn its cooperation due to
“unacceptable conditions”. We should take the same stand here. There is
a risk that the state will then starve people for a while, but if we
fold and allow these hotspots to just carry on with our assistance,
things won’t get any better. These places may look like an excel
document come to life, a registration form built of concrete, but they
are in reality chaotically and incompetently run arbitrary dictatorships
of the least compassionate institutions in society. We can’t do
humanitarian work there any more than a kitten can play in a rottweiler
cage. Compassionate people will be bullied out or coaxed into
complicity. We’re already the crutches of a spiteful, savage institution
that has no humanitarian purpose. Let’s draw a line and stop our
cooperation.