The importance attached to the use of words might be considered an exercise in semantics, but it is also one more importantly concerned in the construction of reality, where our world is given meaning. Multidirectional flows of human migration is almost entirely ideologically framed. Crucially this is not a neutral process, indeed in some areas this is highly politically motivated and has become increasingly informed by right wing simplistic and misleading narratives and concepts.

The racialisation of migration is a well documented topic, in particular narratives around who migrants or immigrants even are which has been almost entirely dominated by right-wing approaches and concepts. Immigration and terms such as ‘immigrant’ have been monopolised by the right as meaning a person of colour, from the global south and in need.

In this sense, migrants are essentially racialised subjects. The dominant narrative and discourse around immigration, and associated terms such as asylum seeker or refugee is largely constructed around concepts of threat, illegality and negativity.

Moreover, the term ‘immigrants’ or ‘immigration’ is now used pejoratively to represent threat and danger, this is no longer used exclusively by the political right but within dominant understandings of the topic through prevailing dominance of the right around narratives on this- the Starmer-led Labour government and its approach to immigration and border control being a case in point.

One of the key messages and characterisations that has become normative and assumed around the racialisation of migration is not only that ‘immigrants’ are depicted as largely consisting of people of colour, from the global south and who are perceived through a guise of negativity, illegality and threat but that, on the flip-side of this, white people from the west are not considered or viewed as immigrants, whether migrating to the UK or emigrating from the UK.

In particular the concept and term of ‘ex-pat’ is applied here to delineate this distinct message. This term ex-patriate which can be defined in a literal sense as representing a person who lives outside of their country of origin or native country. This being historically used to refer to exiles, yet in today’s common parlance this would mean refugees and this has also been racially constructed by the right to denote non-western people of colour.

This strict racialised definition which has come to dominate how we understand or imagine the topic of immigration also plays upon the concept of the deserving or undeserving migrant. For example, the exclusive humanitarianization of refugees from Ukraine, represented by positive and empathetic narratives in the right-wing press and Conservative government settlement schemes etc. yet this being applied to this group alone.

The term ‘refugee’ clearly exists within this racialisation of the migration/ immigration nexus. It has become deeply politicised and racialised. On the one hand refugees from the global south or areas of conflict in the Middle East are depicted through the immigrant narrative. Whereas white European refugees are firmly located outside of this and are welcomed with open arms. This clearly highlights the hypocritical and contradictory use of the term led by political and racialised labelling of groups and therefore very different treatment.

The term ‘ex-pat’ is an ideologically loaded term that contains specific connotations, preconceptions and assumptions not just around place of origin or race but also class, education and privilege. Often the latter might be implied around economic migrants but it is clear that the former is deeply implied especially when used by politicians and moral entrepreneurs from the right such as Nigel Farage or Donald Trump. In other words, those who are not labelled as an ex-pat are often then open to be dehumanised through specific narratives of being labelled as simply an immigrant.

Again, language and meaning denotes power and positionality therefore why a black African in the UK is far more likely to be labelled as an immigrant and not considered an ex-pat whereas a white South African is far more likely to be labelled as such. At the same time a UK citizen who has moved to Australia or to Spain, for example is anecdotally understood as and considered an ex-pat. To widen this out around bigger narratives of immigration and belonging, a person of colour is far more likely to be asked ‘and where are your from?’ regardless of citizenship in the UK, whereas a a white immigrant from any given western nation is far less likely to be asked this question, let alone be considered as an immigrant.

Arguments to legitimise the racialised understanding around immigration are deeply non-sensical and hypocritical. It has nothing to do with being able to speak the same language, legal status, geographical proximity, working and paying taxes or even following the same religion. For example, a British retiree living in Spain could be unquestionably labelled an ex-pat to legitimise their sense of exceptionalism, whereas on the other hand they can be seen to live in culturally isolated ghettoes, unwilling to assimilate or even speak the same language, and being a burden on the state as a benefit claimant. At the same time, the
argument that Ukrainian refugees deserve special treatment as ‘being like us’, makes little sense as distance to location are as dissimilar as many other refugees, language barrier, cultural and religious difference etc. Again, it is not the perceived similarity or even need that determines how we imagine different immigrant groups but rather constructed racialised narratives.

Concepts such as ex-pat can also be seen to have colonial and imperial legacies- clearly applied almost exclusively to white westerners who are constructed as legitimate migrants who are viewed as being different, special and therefore deserving of not being treated or even conceptualised as the same as other migrants or immigrants. The concept and use of the term ex-pat seeks to compartmentalise migration, particularly between different narratives and how we imagine migration. Also the term ex-pat provides a normalisation of racial constructions linked to power, privilege and entitlement. One that directly links back to simplistic colonial understandings where the narrative around the colonial ‘other’ is constituted by threat, negativity or inadequacy, whereas the white narrative constitutes positivity, civility and exceptionalism.

Previously the term ‘ex-pat’ has largely gone unnoticed but what we are talking about here is clearly and obviously ideologically motivated narratives and constructions of groups around the topic of migration. The point is that these contradictory, misleading and simplistic narratives and understandings around migration and immigration reinforce clearly racist ideological constructions of the world- that some rules apply to some but not others regardless of how non-sensical or confusing this might be.

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