CALAIS CATASTROPHE

We kept out Hitler. Why can’t our feeble leaders stop a few thousand exhausted migrants?

On the very doorstep of Britain, in the dingy, dilapidated French port of Calais, one of the great crises of our times is playing out. Indeed, the migrant crisis, I believe, is perhaps the most pressing issue facing this country and the West in the next few decades: a tide of humanity, flowing from the war-torn regions of north Africa and the Middle east like blood from an open wound.

What is happening at Calais, in other words, is merely the local manifestation of a profound global problem. the terrible anarchy in Libya, Syria and Iraq, for which our politicians bear some responsibility, has undoubtedly played a part in bringing the crisis to a head. But even if those countries were at peace, I suspect our politicians would still be facing similar challenges.

the man who died on tuesday, for example, came not from Libya or Syria, but from Sudan. Indeed, four of the five most common countries of origin for immigrants to Britain last year were Pakistan, eritrea, Iran and Albania. this suggests that the issue is much wider than many pundits usually imply.

Since the migrants are driven not merely by war but by poverty, famine, drought, over-population and unemployment, there is no reason to think they will soon stop coming. this is a challenge the like of which the West has not faced for centuries, and to which, so far, our weak and passive leaders appear to have no answer.

But the scenes at Calais are also a deeply disturbing reminder that Britain is no longer an island. We may still think we are, and many of us still take pride in our insular status.

But the facts tell a different story. Indeed, not only has the Channel tunnel put paid to our geographical isolation, but our membership of the eU, with the endless obligations that go along with it, means that we can no longer think of Britain as an island even in a political or metaphorical sense.

All this represents a seismic change in our national identity — and one, I believe, with which our politicians have still not properly come to terms. It is true, of course, that the sea has always been a highway as well as a barrier. And it is true, too, that Britain has always been something of a crossroads, a meeting place of commerce and culture.

But for generations, our predecessors took our island status immensely seriously. It is surely no accident that perhaps the most famous expression of our patriotic identity, John of Gaunt’s speech in Shakespeare’s play Richard II, describes our country as ‘this scepter’d isle … this fortress built by nature for herself … this little world, this precious stone set in the silver sea’.

When Shakespeare compared england to a fortress, he perhaps remembered the Spanish Armada of 1588, which was defeated when he was probably about 24. Indeed, had it not been for our status as an island, england would probably have fallen victim to Spanish invasion, with devastatingly bloody consequences.

the fact that Britain is an island saved us, too, from napoleon centuries later. the French tyrant first assembled a so-called Army of england on the shores of the Channel in 1798, and the threat of invasion did not disappear until nelson smashed Bonaparte’s fleet at trafalgar seven years later.

napoleon knew that all he needed to do was to get his army across the sea, and then Britain would surely fall into his lap. ‘Let us be masters of the Channel for six hours,’ he once said, ‘and we are masters of the world.’

Getting across the narrow sea, however, proved beyond him. And even though, more than a century later, the nazis were perfectly capable of rolling across the map of europe, they too came to a grinding halt when they reached the Channel.

When you read Winston Churchill’s rousing speeches from those dark days, it is striking how often he invokes our island history. In his first radio address as Prime Minister on May 19, 1940, for example, he rallied the nation to ‘the battle for our Island — for all that Britain is, and all that Britain means’.

And when he made his famous speech about fighting on the beaches two weeks later, when a German invasion appeared almost inevitable, Churchill called Britain an island no fewer than seven times. ‘We shall defend our Island,’ he said grimly, ‘whatever the cost may be.’ As all the world knows, he was as good as his word.

Referring to Britain as an island is now, of course, deeply unfashionable. Liberal academics love to tell us that we are merely one european country among many, and our politicians often seem to have a pathological aversion to any thought of British uniqueness.

Yet the fact remains that our

A deeply disturbing reminder Britain is no longer an island

history as an island nation is perhaps the single biggest element in our national identity. For years, generations of schoolchildren were brought up to take pride in Britain’s inviolate history, our proud record of never having been invaded since 1066 and our splendid isolation in the cold Atlantic.

It is against this background that our politicians’ supine passivity at Calais seems all the more shocking and depressing. It is high time that the Cameron government made a serious effort to regain control of our national border.

For the appalling anarchy at Calais, which has been broadcast around the world, is not merely a national embarrassment. It is a standing invitation to migrants around the world, who, quite understandably, want to build better lives for themselves, and believe that they can do it in Britain.

As most decent people would surely agree, the migrants’ stories are almost always heartbreaking. But immigration to this country should be a controlled, judicious process, not an anarchic freeforall. And the British border should actually look like a border, not like the entrance of an oxford Street department store on the first day of the January sales.

What makes this all the more worrying, of course, is that we live in a world haunted by fears of crime and terrorism. If hundreds of hungry, weary migrants can get past security and through the Channel Tunnel, then there is no reason why gangsters, terrorists and extremists could not do the same. It may seem fanciful to imagine an ISIL terrorist taking this opportunity to cross into Britain. But this is the kind of scenario that our security services are supposedly paid to prevent.

Tackling the crisis, therefore, ought to be the Government’s chief priority. The situation at Calais has been deteriorating for weeks, but for all ministers’ fine words and extravagant promises, nothing has changed.

Home Secretary Theresa May is quite right to say that the migrants ought to be turned back earlier in their journey, before they cross the Mediterranean, and she is right, too, to focus on the role of the criminal gangs who exploit these people’s sad plight.

But what is needed on Britain’s border is not just more money for fencing and sniffer dogs, or even police. It is a sense of control and determination, an impression of courage and backbone — precisely the qualities that have been absent in recent weeks.

In particular, Mrs May and David Cameron ought to tell their French counterparts to get a grip. Instead, both seem content merely to parrot the usual cliches about working closely with our French friends, doing all we can, and so on ad nauseam.

To put it bluntly, though, this is just not good enough.

Mr Cameron’s predecessors managed to keep out Napoleon and Hitler, both of whom had gigantic armies and an entire continent behind them. So he really should be able to cope with a few thousand exhausted migrants — shouldn’t he?