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A Response to a Response: Immigration, Europe, and Taiwan

A Response to a Response: Immigration, Europe, and Taiwan

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In this op-ed, Harry Jenkins responds to criticism of his op-ed on Taiwan’s immigration plans, defending his call for caution by pointing to Europe’s challenges with integration and cultural cohesion. He warns against dismissing legitimate concerns as racism and urges a more respectful, open debate. Can Taiwan navigate immigration without repeating the West’s mistakes?

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A Response to a Response: Immigration, Europe, and Taiwan

By Harry Jenkins
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Regular CommonWealth readers may be aware that I recently wrote an article titled “Opening the Door: Europe’s Immigration Warning for Taiwan.” This was a reaction to the news that Taiwan plans to open up service sector roles to foreign nationals in 2026, and I argued that Taiwanese lawmakers should learn from Europe’s experience of immigration over the past few decades. 

A few days later, a frequent CommonWealth contributor, Mr. Sasha B. Chhabra, wrote a highly critical response to my piece. Usually, I would not respond to criticism. Op-eds should spark debate, and I am not arrogant enough to believe that every reader will agree with what I write. 

However, Mr. Chhabra’s article contained numerous ad-hominem attacks that I felt could not be ignored. He also represented my views in a profoundly ungenerous and misleading way. It would be of interest to no one for me to respond to each of his points, but I do think addressing some of his key arguments would be helpful and relevant to discussions on the future of immigration in Taiwan. 

I began my original piece with a description of Birmingham, Britain’s second city. I explained that in places like Sparkhill, the demographic makeup and cultural identity of the area have been totally transformed within a lifetime—that “former churches are now mosques [and] pubs have given way to shisha lounges.” 

At no point did I make a value judgement about any culture, much less any race. I’m sure there are plenty of nice shisha lounges, and I know from experience that many pubs are less than reputable. One is not inherently better than the other. But the two are clearly distinct, and they cater—by and large—to different communities. When insular groups socialize, shop, or work only amongst themselves, they fail to interact with people of other backgrounds. Instead of having a shared national community, separate Balkanized communities form. Last year, the UK prime minister acknowledged that Britain was at risk of becoming an “island of strangers, not a nation that walks forward together.”

In my original article, I argued that flags are the clearest indication of the ghettoization of British cities. After the October 7 attack, Palestine flags began appearing on lampposts and windows in many Muslim-majority areas. Largely in response, English and British flags were put up in majority white areas. Mr. Chhabra argues that the Palestine flags “do not mark ethnic divisions, but are statements of solidarity with those suffering the brutalities of war.” It is true that those putting up Palestine flags are doing so to show support to the Palestinian people. But if there is no ethnic component to this phenomenon, then why is the Palestinian tricolor ubiquitous in Muslim-majority areas but scarcer than hen’s teeth in working-class white areas? If people in areas like Sparkhill are simply showing “solidarity with those suffering the brutalities of war,” then why are the blue and yellow of the Ukrainian flag not equally common? 

The answer is that different groups prioritize different issues. The situation in Palestine resonates more with, say, Pakistanis in the UK than the war in Ukraine because Palestinians are fellow Muslims and the Holy Land contains some of Islam’s most sacred sites. Similarly, all polling shows that the vast majority of Western Jews feel a strong connection to Israel. There is nothing wrong with this. In fact, it is entirely natural. But it demonstrates that ethnic differences are not limited to things like food and clothing. Heritage, cultural norms, and religious beliefs shape who we are, how we see the world, and how we operate within it, and people do not simply abandon these things when they move abroad.

A diversity of viewpoints can, of course, be an asset, and no society is a monolith. But a functioning society must also have a strong foundation of commonality. Without this, the fabric of a nation becomes threadbare. Today, European countries are reckoning with the fact that they are home to groups with differing demands and expectations, often distinct from one another and at odds with the traditional values of the host nation. In recent years, threats (and acts) of violence have required European societies to debate the appropriateness of depicting the Prophet Mohammed in cartoons. Decades ago, nobody would have predicted that France, a nation that prides itself on robust secularism, would need to consider Islamic blasphemy laws in relation to issues of internal national security. Yet this is now the reality and just one of many unexpected consequences of mass immigration. No politician intended this, nor did any populace vote for it, but it happened regardless. 

In my op-ed, I outlined how this occurred, and perhaps the most revealing aspect of Mr. Chhandra’s article is how closely his arguments mirror the process described. When limited numbers of immigrants arrived in Europe to fill certain specific positions in the 1950s and ’60s, they worked, integrated, and paid into the system. They were later joined by their families, which seemed reasonable given that they had contributed and put down roots. But it was in this way that immigration began to spiral out of control. Chain migration meant that people could arrive in a country without necessarily having a job, and once entire families had settled, removing them was too unpalatable a prospect to consider. 

Currently, Taiwan does have limitations on how long immigrants from certain countries can stay. However, Mr. Chhabra describes these restrictions as “visa-apartheid” and implies they should be relaxed. Doing so would almost guarantee the kind of chain migration that made immigration into Europe so hard to control. 

I also explained how, as entire immigrant communities formed in Europe, a new doctrine of multiculturalism emerged to accommodate the new demographic reality. It began to be argued that a country like Britain had always been a “nation of immigrants” because it had experienced, for example, some Viking settlement 1200 years before, and thus, multiculturalism was nothing new. Mr. Chhabra makes almost identical claims about Taiwan, pointing to, among other things, “millennia of Austronesian settlement.” Recognizing that human populations have moved over the centuries does not mean that distinct nations don’t exist, that countries are not home to particular peoples, or that any state is obligated to accept unlimited numbers of migrants from anywhere in the world. Such cynical attempts to deconstruct national identity serve only to portray immigration controls as anti-human or contrary to nature. Once this framing is accepted, it becomes easy to dismiss concerns about mass immigration as simply “racist.”

The purpose of my original article was not to argue that Taiwan’s proposed changes are necessarily wrong but to say that extreme caution should be taken when opening the border. In the West, discussions on immigration have, for my entire life, been toxic and divisive, making the issue hard to solve. I had hoped that similar conversations in Taiwan could be had in a more sober way, so it was disheartening that Mr. Chhabra immediately descended into the kind of name-calling and slime-chucking that has dogged the debate in my own country. 

Ultimately, what matters is not what either Mr. Chhabra or I think. We have both lived in Taiwan—and I assume we share a desire to see it thrive—but decisions on immigration are to be made by the Taiwanese alone. 

I hope that they can have their views—whatever they may be—heard and respected without fear of being demonized or abused. If this is achieved, Taiwan may realize the kind of sensible immigration policy that has eluded so many European countries. 

(This piece reflects the author's opinion, and does not represent the opinion of CommonWealth Magazine.)

CommonWealth Magazine welcomes op-ed submissions. Please send your article proposals to [email protected]


About the author:

Harry Jenkins is a writer, commentator, and formerly an English editor of Live magazine. Before moving to Taiwan, he worked in the British Houses of Parliament, handling policy related to foreign affairs, immigration, the COVID-19 pandemic, and much more.


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