Per la libertà di movimento, per i diritti di cittadinanza

The Center for aliens in Veliki Otok near Postojna (SLO)

The center is situated on the outskirts of town. It has been in operation for several years now, but no significant xenophobic reactions by local people, comparable to those in Šiška, Ljubljana or Vidonci, were recorded.

From the outside the establishment seems not to be in use – a deserted house, formerly a part of the military barracks, once used as a washroom. There are no visible signs displayed, so one would think it completely deserted were it not for the “shipments” unloaded at its entrance and several policemen patrolling in front of it.

To get a permit to enter this center we had to turn to Darja Peharc, the head of the center.
Since it was a holiday she could not provide official escorts who, in her opinion, were necessary. According to her, if we went to the center before the agreed date, our safety would be threatened. (Let us mention here that after the holidays we were
allowed to visit the center without escorts.) Our group immediately communicated information about supposed violations within the center to Matjaž Hanžek, the human rights ombudsman. On the 7th of May, 2001 (two days before our visit), the situation in the center was assessed by Aleš Butala, his deputy, and a consultant working for the ombudsman’s office, Ivan Šelih. Their conclusions were similar to ours, even though before we went there the center had undergone a sanitary inspection. Butala and Šelih submitted a professional assessment of circumstances in the center seen from the perspective of respect for human rights (how much space is available for each immigrant, whether the number of toilets and wash basins was sufficient, whether bed linen and food were provided in sufficient quantities, how well the employees fulfill their tasks and whether they fulfill them, how well immigrants are informed and what activities they can pursue). Our research group, on the other hand, wanted to hear stories from
the immigrants themselves, to hear what happened to them, how they experience life in the center and the like. Since we could not enter the upper floors of the building, we could not see or verify all that Butala and Šelih described in their report.

The deputy of the human rights ombudsman described the circumstances and living conditions of the immigrants in this center as catastrophic. Our opinion was similar. In contrast, the head of the Slovene police Marko Pogorevc was of the opinion that the “circumstances in the center for aliens in Veliki Otok were exceptionally good.” On the basis of accounts given by the immigrants living there, and the events we witnessed, we concluded that violations were most frequent precisely in this center and that authorities did not take any care of the immigrants once they locked them up in the center.

We were surprised that nobody from the police department for stricter surveillance of foreigners could tell us much about the life of foreigners there. The shift superintendent referred us to the social worker, who redirected us to the nurse, who sent us to the housekeeper and the cleaning lady (maintenance worker). She explained to us the shower rules. Her everyday clothes and high-heeled shoes did not leave an impression on us that she was cleaning anything on that particular day. We were told that the tap water was not drinkable or not recommended for drinking. The immigrants got up to fifty liters of tea a day delivered to them in thermos pots. During our visit, at around 3 P.M., the tea pots were already empty. There are no screens or
curtains separating showers, no privacy for the immigrants. They all have to take showers simultaneously in the same room, a scene as if taken from a film about some concentration camp. The amount and temperature of the water are regulated by the maintenance worker. According to the employees of the center, seventeen people can take a shower simultaneously; there are only seven hangers on the wall of the shower room, obviously too few. Five washbasins with separate taps for warm and cold water line the wall of the “bathroom.” The taps have no handles and cannot be used. The social worker and the nurse could not explain why this was so. They said that according to the rules the immigrants could take a shower twice a week and in practice more than twice a week, but immigrants did not confirm this information.
On the day of our visit the washroom was dry and empty, so obviously nobody had a shower on that day.
We were surprised at the assertion of the employees that the center had neither house rules nor day schedules. The only time-markers for the personnel and the policemen were meals. We wondered why house rules, drawn up by the head of he police, were not applied at the Postojna center?
We had the impression that it was unclear who ran the center or took decisions, who had information about developments in the center, or who was responsible for the living conditions and state of the immigrants. Several pieces of information we obtained from the personnel turned out to be untrue when we spoke to the immigrants (for example, the shower-room rules and walk-time schedule, rules for changing bed linen, availability of tea, and of hygienic supplies – soap, toilet paper, cleaners
and so on).

One of the policemen told us that makeshift toilets were installed outside the center (not in it!) following the sanitary inspection. It is obvious that the immigrants cannot use them because they are locked up inside the house and cannot go out. The policemen mischievously admitted that the toilets served quite a different purpose – they were used to lock up immigrants who needed to be “cooled down.” Later we checked this apparently incredible information several times. All of the respondents
confirmed it.

The immigrants from Romania told me that policemen shut up one of their group in this outside toilet. On the day before our visit a policeman had a confrontation with an immigrant who threw into the policeman’s eyes a splinter of wall plaster. The
Romanians were concerned about their friend so they asked me if I could help. I inquired about the man during lunch and the shift supervisor responded that the Romanian was “out in the cold.” I asked him how long he supposedly needed to “cool down” and the policemen answered that the process lasted until he has cooled down which was supposed to mean a few days. When we returned to the center after lunch, the Romanians happily informed me that their friend was back. The shift supervisor could not explain in accordance with which rule, when and whom the policemen were allowed to lock up in an isolated cell or a separate room acting at their own discretion. Similarly to what Butala concluded, there was no book of rules regulating the conduct of the police. It is not surprising then that impossible living conditions led some immigrants to go on a hunger strike.

Our encounters with the personnel in the center were more than
once a source of shock for us. We were puzzled at the strange statements by the policemen. In addition, we met two new social workers who first came to work on the first day of our visit and they could not tell us what their tasks in the center were going to be – “actually we haven’t got any task” they answered, adding that they did not yet know what they were going to be asked to do. During our visits nobody spoke to the immigrants save for us. Similarly, they had no opportunity to pursue any activity; around ten of them stood in the bleak courtyard without any greenery; they had no ball, or any other item for recreation.

Of course we were kept on edge by all we heard. During our visit we approached the policeman who had much to say several times (on the other hand, his fellows were most interested in how we were going to apply the results of the survey; we did not discuss other topics). He touched upon the communal issues as well. “People living in Veliki Otok complain about the center for aliens. They do not like the fact that the immigrants are situated right here in Postojna.” I responded that the center was quite remote from the residential neighborhoods and hence could not possibly be in anybody’s way. The policeman nevertheless insisted on his assertion, saying that immigrants had escaped from the center on several occasions, had broken into cars or even stolen cars; also there was allegedly plenty of prostitution, so dissatisfaction was entirely understandable. He was also worried about amnesty in Turkey – he had heard something about it – so he was concerned that “all of these Turks will now rush into Slovenia.” In his opinion, immigrants earn money while on the journey, and seasonal workers are the best off in this respect and in general. At our request he
opened the door leading to the courtyard surrounded by the high walls of the center.
He allowed me to look for somebody who could speak English. Around thirty people approached the opened iron door, which made the policeman angry. The stinking smell of these people was too much for him, as he indicated with a sigh and a wrinkling
of the nostrils. The policeman informed me that in the basement immigrants with “special” diseases were incarcerated. He warned us to be “careful about coming in contact with them,” as “you never know what disease they have, maybe such as we in Slovenia even do not know about.” “You never know what you are going to
discover in these people coming from exotic countries,” a young policeman added.

The policeman was still absorbed in his own monologue so we had the impression that he did not attach any significance to us, the listeners. He was not interested in our opinion. All that he needed was an audience, so we performed this role obediently
and extremely well. He continued in his characteristically naturalistic manner by reducing individuals to the level of material objects. “Romanians will arrive in the course of summer. They are all seasonal workers. They pick fruit in Italy and send money to their families. And, once the season is over, they swish across the borders back home.” It was obvious that he enjoyed the talk as he proceeded to explain extensively his opinion about “those foreigners.” He then started to describe how he felt at his workplace, stating that he lacked nothing, that he spent days in the office while others took care of “them”. “There is nothing I could discuss with them,” he snapped and in the same breath quickly added that they were dirty, that they came from south-Africa, brought “strange, exotic diseases” to Slovenia, and “had sex nonstop.”
“We had to separate Chinese women from Chinese men as they had sex nonstop.
The women were transported to the Postojna hospital for abortion as on an assembly line.” He also added that it was especially difficult to communicate with the Chinese because nobody among the personnel spoke Chinese. “I speak Slovene to
all of them and I don’t care. They came to Slovenia so they should learn Slovene.”

After this “overture,” which we obediently endured – such was our decision – we returned to the dining room where immigrants had just finished their lunch. The company of those boys now appeared even more friendly and pleasant. We continued our interviews and conversations. I had a long conversation with a teacher of physical education and then the time came for us to leave. Some interviewers where finishing up their questionnaires, while others gathered in front of the center. The policeman opened the door, stepped out, peeked around the van in which the immigrants were sitting, and shouted: “Pack up and let’s go.” The frightened people calmly descended from the van one after another and followed the policeman. They
walked with bowed heads dragging behind them big, almost empty black bags like those that are habitually used for rubbish. They probably used them to store their personal belongings. I was distressed at the sight of them and could not utter a
word. Why? What did these people do? Why is anybody allowed to rob them of human dignity and thrust them into a situation in which they are rendered completely impotent?

Veliki Otok (in Slovene veliki otok means big island) is undoubtedly an isolated island that separates immigrants from the “civilized” inhabitants. It is an oasis for the lost dreams of immigrants on the one side of the iron curtain, and for the “policemen on vacation” on the other.

Our source told us that every three months a new “group of policemen is sent on a vacation to Veliki Otok.” “The policemen guarding embassies and ministries in Ljubljana have a much harder job than we!” He boasted that he “was getting a suntan” even though “it was not always pleasant, as the wind occasionally got too strong.” I commented that we were writing down all of his statements. He smiled, then said: “Write it down if you like.” Later he again started to complain about the
work he was supposed to do; he was most indignant that the Ministry of Internal Affairs did not care about them at all. When I commented that the Ministry did not care about the immigrants either, who were not accorded any rights and were in a situation that was quite different from his own, he replied that the immigrants had food and lacked nothing. Then he added: “I would not eat their meal anyway, I’d rather go to the nearby hotel and have lunch there or buy me a sandwich.”

Lyotard may be convinced that we have seen the end of big stories, but small big stories are still taking place in centers like this one and these stories are both infinite and big. “Small is infinitely more secretive than big,” says Virilio (1996) in the La vitesse de libération where he talks of the theory of nations. Size belongs to the past and smallness to the future. And infinitely secretive violations of human rights take place precisely within this smallness, no matter whether in Slovenia as a whole or in Veliki Otok in particular. They are so fluid that even when someone manages to expose them to the eyes of the public, or report them to the human rights ombudsman, or present them to the Ministry of Internal Affairs at a conference, the people who should be accountable always manage to escape sanctions or judicial procedures, so that no changes are effected. These people even secure for themselves “legitimacy” to proceed with their tasks in the same way, and they justify their actions in the style of the police head Marko Pogorevc who thus explained the violations: “The police acted in accordance with the rules and in this case there were no violations.”
Matjaž Hanžek, the human rights ombudsman in Slovenia, informed us that the police replied to the report submitted by his office in the beginning of June. They later sent two supplements, the last one in August, informing him which deficiencies were made up.
They were due to prepare a project for the renovation of the facility by the end of October, and it should have been drawn up in accordance with the safety and hygienic criteria and the standards of living conditions. According to them, the deficiencies that could be improved quickly had already been taken care of, heads of departments had been appointed, job positions revised and defined anew, and recruitment of additional workforce was underway. They also stated that an inspector responsible for the well-being of aliens visited the center on the daily basis and a book of complaints had also been set up. They asserted that they had arranged the presence of social services and public workers and started to outfit the living quarters. The number of individual interviews with immigrants had been increased as well, and they could talk to the representatives of the UN High Commission for Refugees. A physician was said to visit the center once a week, and immigrants were allowed to walk outside in the fresh air.
On receiving the reply from the police, the center was visited by a delegation of the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture.
Despite assurances given by the police, the Committee established that the circumstances were very similar to those described earlier by the ombudsman at his first visit. “This leads us to believe that not much has been done save for the mentioned improvements related to the personnel and information system,” stated Hanžek.