In the wake of the brief yet emotionally intense exchange of fire between Iran, Israel and the US in mid-June, Iranians across the diaspora have watched footage of the homeland and the current mass expulsion of Afghans from Iran.

When watching this footage, aware of the inability of many Afghans (including many in the second generation) to return to their homeland, I have been struck by the relationship between these events, and several conversations I have had recently with other second-generation Iranians in southern England. Namely, multiple instances where other Iranians have expressed a desire for reduced levels of migration to the UK, and a distaste for individuals who have arrived and then claimed asylum. 

When we acknowledge that the current actions of the government of our homeland may lead to the arrival of more asylum seekers in the UK, the question that has been tugging at me is: why do we feel the need to pull up the ladder for newer migrants, and how do we stop this impulse from taking root?

At its core, this attempt to distinguish ourselves from new arrivals to the UK stems from an internalised sense of inferiority in relation to English people, and a desire to maintain our sense of safety and belonging to the UK above community-building. Part of how this is overcome is through promoting an idea of our sameness to English people. Throughout the Iranian diaspora, the prior grandeur of the Persian Empire is persistently mobilised as a way of proving our worth and setting us apart from other West Asian diaspora groups. Palatable artefacts of the Persian empire such as the poetry of Rumi and the Cyrus Cylinder (widely attributed as the first written declaration of human rights) are held up as our exemplary cultural contributions, valuable and desired in the West. This is further entrenched through practices of self-modification such as plastic surgery, dying hair blonde, and changing names

While these processes may help to promote our inclusion, its sanitisation of Iranianness comes at the price of denying the complexity of our roots. The mental load of this cognitive dissonance is aptly displayed in the equally persistent feelings of insecurity which crop up regularly and have led to a widespread identity crisis.

What is the alternative? Simply put, to create community spaces that not only tolerate but enthusiastically embrace the inclusion of a diverse range of people. We must ask ourselves, what can recent first-generation migrants teach us?