Systemic dehumanisation of migrants: Pope critiques global border regimes and racialised exclusion

Indigenous worldviews often reject the concept of borders as colonial impositions, framing mobility as a right tied to kinship and ecological balance. The criminalisation of migration mirrors the dispossession of Indigenous lands, where borders serve as tools of exclusion and control. However, Indigenous resistance to border regimes—such as the Zapatista movement’s autonomous migration policies—remains largely absent from mainstream discourse. The Pope’s framing, while sympathetic, does not engage with these systemic alternatives.

Modern border regimes emerged from 19th-century colonial projects that racialised populations and justified exclusionary immigration laws. The 1920s U.S. Immigration Act and Australia’s White Australia Policy institutionalised racial hierarchies, while post-WWII refugee regimes prioritised Western victims over Global South displacement. The current crisis reflects a continuity of these exclusionary logics, now justified by 'national security' and 'economic necessity.' The Pope’s critique, while timely, lacks a historical materialist lens to explain why borders persist.

In many cultures, hospitality is a moral and spiritual obligation—such as the Islamic concept of *diyafa* or the Latin American tradition of *hospitalidad*. However, colonial borders have imposed Western legal frameworks that criminalise these practices. The Pope’s appeal aligns with these traditions but risks being co-opted into liberal humanitarianism rather than challenging the structural roots of exclusion. Cross-cultural solidarity requires moving beyond moral appeals to material support for migrant-led movements.

Research in political geography shows that border regimes are designed to regulate labour flows and maintain racial hierarchies, not just enforce 'security.' Studies highlight how border militarisation increases migrant deaths while failing to deter migration, as economic and climate pressures drive displacement. The Pope’s framing lacks empirical grounding in these systemic dynamics, instead relying on moral outrage. A scientific approach would examine the economic and political mechanisms sustaining border violence.

Artists and spiritual leaders have long challenged border violence through creative resistance, such as Ai Weiwei’s *Law of the Journey* or the Sanctuary Movement in the U.S. These works humanise migrants beyond statistics, exposing the dehumanising logic of borders. However, the Pope’s intervention, while spiritually resonant, risks being depoliticised by institutional frameworks. Spiritual traditions offer tools for reimagining belonging, but their radical potential is often neutralised in mainstream discourse.

Future scenarios suggest that without dismantling border regimes, climate displacement will exacerbate global inequality, leading to more militarised responses. Alternative models—such as open borders, regional free movement zones, or climate reparations—could mitigate harm but require dismantling neoliberal and colonial structures. The Pope’s critique, while important, does not outline these systemic alternatives. Future policy must centre migrant agency and reject the securitisation of mobility.

Migrant-led movements, such as the *Undocumented Workers Movement* or *No Borders* collectives, centre their own narratives and demands, challenging state violence. These voices are systematically excluded from mainstream media, which privileges institutional actors like the Pope. The framing also erases the role of Black and Indigenous migrants in resisting border regimes, instead centring Western moral authorities. True systemic change requires amplifying these marginalised perspectives and their solutions.