Jean Mary Kesner for Poder & Dinero and FinGurú
Children, young people, women, and men who have been uprooted from their homeland by war, misery, or political repression do not disappear into silence, even though our societies often prefer not to see or hear them. Their departure is not a light decision: it is a rupture, almost always forced, faced with the impossibility of surviving or living with dignity in their country of origin.
Today, thousands of Central Americans flee from criminal violence or institutional collapse; Venezuelan families abandon a country devastated by hyperinflation, insecurity, and the loss of rights; and Haitian men and women, pushed by extreme insecurity and state disintegration, cross borders on foot, often without documents or protection. All these migrations have a common root: the failure of their States to guarantee the minimum conditions for a dignified life.
Migration, in these contexts, is not a voluntary act or a search for well-being. It is the consequence of deep imbalances, structural violence, the collapse of social, economic, or institutional systems. Those who undertake this path do so not for luxury or ambition, but out of necessity. They seek a refuge, a space where life is possible.
The reflection of our contradictions
In a world increasingly marked by fear, nationalism, and exclusionary discourse, these human trajectories are met with hostility, suspicion, and even contempt. Migrant people are reduced to numbers, confined in detention centers, labeled as “problems,” and pushed to the margins. But their mere presence questions our certainties, highlights our contradictions, and reveals the weakening of the democratic and humanistic values we claim to defend.
As warned by Abdelmalek Sayad, a migration sociologist, the immigrant carries a double penalty: they are judged both for leaving their country and for daring to enter another. “The immigrant is always guilty,” he said, because their mere existence reveals an unresolved colonial relationship between the northern and southern countries, between those who decide and those who flee. Their presence provokes, unsettles, and reminds us that the world order is built on structural inequalities.
Closing the borders to those fleeing hunger, persecution, or death is not a simple administrative act: it is a moral decision with profound consequences. Each rejection, each expulsion, each public humiliation represents a betrayal of the fundamental principles of human dignity.
A test of our humanity
The real question is not how to stop migratory flows, but how to respond to them without renouncing our humanity. The responsibility of States, international institutions, and societies cannot continue to be evaded. It is not about idealizing migration or denying its challenges but about asking ourselves: what kind of society are we building when our response to despair is rejection?
History will not remember how many walls were erected or how efficient border controls were. It will judge us by our ability or lack of courage to recognize in the other, in the displaced person, in the undocumented foreigner, a human being with rights, with dignity, with dreams.
Migration is not a threat. It is a test. A moral, political, and civilizational test. A mirror that reflects not only the failures of our world but also the decisions we make in the face of another's suffering.
Kesner Jean MaryPolitical Scientist | Author of the book “Haitian Migration in Rosario: Expectation vs. Reality” | Researcher | Specialist in Public Administration and Migrations |
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