Our globe is a strange place indeed: fragmented and polarised, from east to west and north to south. Regardless of which corner of the world they happen to be, humans share the same feelings of happiness and sadness, pleasure and pain, love and hate. But the truth of the matter is that they live in a disconnected state, disengaged and only mechanically aware of one another’s existence in the world.

Our borders have succeeded in breaking up our humanity into pieces where each piece represents a nation on a divided world map. Each nation then becomes a motherland for its citizens and pronounces their identity with a document called a ‘passport’. In turn, these passports become either a prosperous blessing or an ill-fated curse, depending on within which borders one is born.

I once carried a Syrian passport while living in the West — yet as patriotic as I am about my native homeland, my Syrian passport was definitely not a blessing to carry in an Arab/Islamophobic West.

US immigration was by far the worst, where time after time as I crossed US borders, every officer, without exception, was ghastly alarmed to read the word ‘Syria’ as my nationality. A state of alertness and mayhem would immediately take over. More often than not, I was asked to step to the side for an exhaustive interrogation, and on many instances, a thorough body search was performed leaving me violated and humiliated.

But my life was utterly changed as I was granted Canadian citizenship and passport. It was miraculous. Overnight, my identity was no longer threatening nor was I looked upon as a potential terrorist; instead, I was transformed into a respected human being whose nationality demanded dignity and respect.

It was especially sardonic to cross US borders with my new passport and to be greeted and welcomed with open arms — a true irony indeed as I happened to be the same woman who once presented a ‘serious’ threat to US national security but is no longer considered a danger because of a changed passport.

Fortunate few

I consider myself very fortunate as billions of others around the world dream of having my generous, life-changing fate. Their chances of travelling, whether for business, study, vacation, medical reasons, or even for refuge are very slim as they are often denied an entry visa because their country’s government is frowned upon.

Today, many of my Syrian relatives and friends are imprisoned within the borders of a country that is committing genocide against its own people. They live in a state of fear and terror, dodging bullets and shells, but have no way of escape as their passports make it difficult (if not impossible) to enter other countries.

A friend of mine carries three different passports — Canadian, American, and Swiss, so she basically has it made as she can easily breeze through most borders without the need to obtain a visa. Yet, another friend holds a passport with the word ‘un-identified’ inscribed under his nationality simply because he is an Arab living in the occupied Golan Heights, and, in turn, he is given one of two choices by the Israeli government — either to take on Israeli nationality or to put up with an ‘unidentified’ nationality as a consequence to his big-headedness.

On another interesting note, the EU (European Union) has declared 27 countries fit to be part of the European club where all countries share a burgundy colour for a passport with the words ‘European Union’ inscribed in the country’s official language on the cover of the passport.

Being part of the EU awards citizens of member countries the right to vote in European elections, the right to free movement, settlement and employment across the EU, and the right to consular protection from other EU states’ embassies.

Paying the price

However, a number of nations remain potential candidates, as is the case for Turkey whose succession to the EU has been stalled by a number of domestic and external problems. Before acceding to the EU, Turkey is to meet each of the 35 chapters of the acquis communautaire, the total body of the EU law.

Turkey is considered to be lacking in areas like social policy and employment, judiciary and fundamental rights, justice, freedom and security, education and culture, among a number of other concerns. And, needless to say, it is ordinary Turkish citizens who end up paying the price for their government’s negligence.

Indeed, to have been born within the borders of a first world country is a privilege. It is a blessing that should not be taken for granted. It grants a life of freedom, security, dignity, and opportunities. It means an open horizon where the sky is the limit. It offers one’s children a quality of life with the basics of everything, including human rights, education, health care, and so on and so forth. It is a position envied by most around the world.

The words of Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish sum up the paradoxical irony in which we all live as humans. Dispossessed of a land and of an identity Darwish writes, Stripped of a name and of what I am/on soil I worked with my own hands/... All human hearts are my nationality/So rid me of my passport!”

Indeed, what a sad and painful humanity it is that divides, categorises, and at times punishes its humans on the basis of a passport.

Ghada Al Atrash holds a Master’s degree in English and taught at a college in Abu Dhabi.