Tensions have flared up this week as French and British politicians discuss the potential ramifications of Britain’s exit from the European Union. At the centre of the squabble is the expansion of the so-called Calais jungle were the United Kingdom to leave the EU. The Calais jungle is a migrant encampment three miles from the centre of the French town of Calais, close to the Eurotunnel across the Channel. More than 5,000 refugees are thought to have found shelter in France as they attempt to reach the UK by secretly boarding lorries, ferries and trains. Living conditions are poor and the French authorities are finding it increasingly difficult to address humanitarian needs without attracting further migrants.

Until last week, only a handful of observers would have associated the Calais jungle with the Brexit dispute. That is, until Prime Minister David Cameron announced that leaving the EU would expand the Calais jungle until it would ultimately reach the UK. Political pandemonium broke out following his announcement as British politicians from all sides rose to condemn the idea and members of Cameron’s own party accused him of scaremongering.

Judging by the European press, however, the PM may not be far from the truth, and the collapse of European border control agreements may only be the first of a series of negative repercussions that will affect the United Kingdom should it leave the EU following this year’s referendum.

European newspapers were quick to react following the announcement of an EU referendum, demonstrating a blend of indignation, exasperation, but mostly confusion in the face of an ill-timed assault on European stability. Why is David Cameron doing this and why is he doing it now? The Europe Union is painfully overseeing what will be remembered as its toughest stretch in history as it scrambles to manage one crisis after the other. Naturally, between the European debt crisis, the threat of terrorism and the humanitarian crisis at its doorstep – which has triggered an unparalleled surge in immigration – the possibility of a British exit is an unwelcome addition to a pretty disastrous agenda.

Earlier this month, Germany’s Frankfurter Allgemeine ran a piece arguing that David Cameron has put a pistol to the European Union’s chest, as well as to his own, by engaging in a campaign for European reform tied to the threat of possible withdrawal. In response, European leaders will be looking to deter populists who see Brexit as a possible template for their own nationalist ambitions. Such populists include far-right leader Marine Le Pen, whose support is steadily increasing and who has publicly compared Britain leaving the EU to the fall of the Berlin wall. Deterring such rhetoric and protecting its signature projects is why the EU will punish the UK should it leave, even if it goes against its own interests. Restricting border controls between France and the UK is one of many ways in which this can be done.

A potential European backlash is only part of the problem, however, as Scottish nationalists have added themselves to the equation by threatening to press for another referendum on Scottish independence should Britain withdraw from the EU. The September 2014 referendum was closer than many expected, driving Cameron to roll up his sleeves on television in uncharacteristic fashion to convince the Scottish electorate that Britain is better together. However, with Britain out of the European Union, convincing the Scots may be a feat difficult to replicate, potentially breaking up the United Kingdom and further isolating a newly disintegrated nation.

It is therefore vitally important that Cameron obtains solid concessions from Britain’s renegotiation of its EU membership ahead of the referendum, or he may find himself tangled in laborious post-Brexit trade negotiations with displeased European neighbours in addition to fighting an uphill political battle domestically. To the desperation of Eurosceptic backbench MPs, his demands have been very carefully calibrated and some would argue watered down to increase his chances of success.

Nevertheless, no matter how keen Britain’s European partners are to maintain the UK within the Union, some commentators have argued that Cameron has picked a battle he cannot win by asking for concessions that go against principles that are at the very core of the European ideal. Such principles include the free movement of labour and the principle of non-discrimination, threatened by the Government’s call to restrict benefits to EU migrants until they have been in Britain for four years. If that is truly the case, the British Prime Minister must both rectify the UK’s zone of possible agreement and communicate more effectively his predicament to the British public ahead of the EU referendum, or else the Calais jungle will be the least of his worries.

After months of frenzied discussion, no consensus has prevailed on the question of the Cecil Rhodes statue. Debates held in St Anne’s JCR last weekend about whether to condemn the Rhodes Must Fall Oxford Campaign, as well as conflicting opinions voiced across a whole range of media channels – from Facebook to nationals like The Telegraph – show that opinion remains divided about the future of the statue perched on the High Street facing building of Oriel College. Regardless of your opinion on the campaign itself, it’s hard to argue that the issues these debates have raised – questions about institutional racism, colonialism and social immobility – are not pertinent beyond the scope of the campaign. The very existence of an Equality and Diversity policy at the University of Oxford, for example, is at once an admission of and a commitment to tackling discrimination based on age, disability, gender, race, religion and sexual orientation at the university.

The work done by many of the exhibitors at Oxford’s International Careers Fair can be interpreted similarly. If – unlike me – you weren’t feeling too fragile after the first essay (or two) of term, you may have headed to the event at the Careers Service on Banbury Road last Saturday. Among the exhibitors were NGOs of all shapes and sizes – from organisations looking for volunteers, to the international employers like the Red Cross – acknowledging the existence of and committing themselves to tackling social inequality in a number of sectors, from education to gender and race. I couldn’t help but think this reflected a very different type of university to the one uniquely for white men reflected in the portraits in Exam Schools, where the fair was held last year.

Fast-forward two days, and the scene is cast in a different light. A friend who’s promoting an international volunteering project aiming to improve access to education writes me a Facebook message: “My two friends who I asked to post the event on their JCR pages both said ‘no’ – they were worried about getting a backlash and being called racist.” Being part of a movement to improve access to education far from being discontinuous with the racist, sexist world represent- ed by the portraits of the Exam Schools, it was implied rather that this international volunteering project was continuous with it.

This is not without reason. It’s pretty easy to find critiques of ‘voluntourism’ – projects that masquerade as promoting equality but actually really represent a holiday and selfie opportunity for volunteers and displace local labour. Spending two weeks ‘building classrooms’ in an orphanage in Tanzania, as a friend did on a gap year, may have given them some interesting stories, but ultimately the claim that an unqualified school leaver really does the manual jobs they set out to do is belittling and, in many ways, disquieting. In this case, it overlooked the existence of local, qualified workers – people who could have done a much better job. In other words, the project relied on a belief in Western superiority that stood at odds with its expressed purpose; namely, working towards a fairer, more equal world – in this case, by trying to help give children somewhere safe to live.

Be that as it may, I was troubled by my friend’s Facebook message – having worked with the organisation it was promoting, Education Partnerships Africa, she seemed to have received a knee-jerk reaction dismissing international volunteering. The merits of the project itself didn’t seem to have been considered. After all, if providing a service no one local could provide (time, more than anything, perhaps? You could send money), working in partnership with local stakeholders to develop a deep understanding of, and then solutions to, specific issues rather than to a rigid, preconceived model, international volunteering doesn’t have to be predicated on an idea of Western superiority, but can instead promote intercultural dialogue and collaboration. I therefore think it is important to consider the issue on a case-by-case basis. It’s time to put an end to generalisations. Facing up to the reality of ‘voluntourism’ would be a valuable step in that ‘decolonising’ direction.

Yes: Molly Moore

“Why are there so many gays here?” “Are you really gay?”

These are but two of the strange utterances I have overheard and been asked whilst sweating glitter and dancing my queer butt off at Plush. “Plush is a gay club?” I hear you whisper, to which I reply, “Plush is a proudly queer space.” As such, it is no surprise that as a club it hosts LGBTQ+ Society’s Tues-gay club night, nor is it a shock that people of the same gender can regularly be found making out on the premises. Indeed, at the entrance you’re even greeted with a sign explicitly informing you that you are about to enter a queer space. I greatly admire the steps taken by Plush to create an environment which makes people aware of the nature of the establishment they’re about to enter. What I don’t quite understand is the volume of people who seem surprised that there are LGBT folks in Plush once they have walked through the door.

I kissed my girlfriend at MNB (shock horror) once. We were harassed and assaulted by at least three diff erent guys, including one who made the absurd assumption that somehow, by kissing, my girlfriend and I were inviting him to join in with us. The worst part is that in a club widely regarded as ‘very straight’, my girlfriend and I were then essentially told in no uncertain terms by our heteronormative society that we should expect this kind of thing, that it is in some way normal, and the perpetrators of acts of violence should not be held responsible. We weren’t in Plush, after all. And maybe two girls were only 
kissing for the bantz? But would you believe me if I told you the same thing happened to me in the recently-deceased Babylove – yesteryear’s LGBT space of choice? Or that in Plush, a guy once told me he would fi nd it sexy to watch me make out with another girl?

Queer spaces are not void of lurid behaviour, leery guys, and the lingering threat that someone of a diff erent gender might attempt to chirpse you. However, those responsible for carrying out disrespectful actions in queer spaces towards queer people seem almost unanimously to be cisgender and heterosexual. As an out queer woman, I choose to wear my identity as armour. I inhabit my own queer space. Yet all too often, my personal space comes under attack from people who don’t respect the nature of queer spaces, or neglect to understand how rare such environments are.

I challenge any non-queer Oxford student to name the spaces they would consider to be inherently queer. Did someone say Plush? LGBTQ+ Society Drinks? Well aside from internalised college meetups, liberation campaigns and drinks events, queer spaces are almost non-existent in Oxford and beyond. With that in mind, I’m sure it’s easier to understand why LGBT people so value the right to have our own spaces, free from invasion by non-queer people. When LGBT charities are dropping like fl ies due to government cuts, like anti-domestic violence charity Broken Rainbow or LGBT mental health charity PACE, it becomes increasingly more important to preserve the environments in which queer people are told we matter, are valued, and can have our voices heard. While such spaces are rapidly decreasing, non-queer people seem to be feeling the overwhelming need to invade our safe spaces simply for the sake of a good night, or because it’s in some way their right.

Cisgender, heterosexual people are at the top of the social food chain, and growing up, the world assumes that everyone adheres to these ‘norms’ unless otherwise stated. Maybe in a world in which queer people don’t have to ‘out’ ourselves I’ll be receptive to non-queer people entering LGBT spaces. The unfortunate reality is that the world doesn’t appear to be changing fast enough for such a thing to happen. The issue is a complex one after all, as queer identities are nonbinary, diverse, innumerable, and outside of the defi nitions societal hegemony has constructed. Queer people may visibly appear to be ‘straightpassing’. For example, they may appear to fit the definition of a typic a l ‘heterosexual’ couple. But how are we to know if that’s really the case? We know that it is impossible to enforce policing of anyone’s sexuality or gender, and I don’t believe that is something LGBT people should be advocating. Our bodies and identities are policed already; our bodies are property; our bodies are toys, objects to be judged and laughed at.

The safety of LGBT people is paramount, and as Women’s Welfare Rep for the LGBTQ+ Society and Christ Church JCR’s LGBTQ+ Welfare Offi cer, my main aim is to protect the right for queer people to be safe. Sadly, this is not possible when non-queer people assume the right to enter queer spaces. LGBT people shouldn’t have to give evidence for our identities. Instead, we should be able to trust that the people around us aren’t cishet and easily off ended by queer culture. Our identities are fetishised and mocked in places we are told belong to us, and we’ve had enough.

I’m not asking for segregation when I say that only LGBT people should be allowed in queer spaces. I’m demanding respect for our identities, alongside the preservation of our culturally signifi cant and vital spaces. Yes, we know Plush is a great night out. But it’s our night out. I’m tired of hearing tales of stray heterosexuals wandering into the Plush toilets to vent in fury at “all the gays” they’ve seen on the dancefloor. However, until society ceases to spew its ingrained heteronormative and cissexist values, there is no room for non-queer people in queer spaces – especially when I have to battle through hordes of horny straight men just to be able to kiss my girlfriend safely. My identity is no one’s plaything, and so many LGBT people depend on exclusively queer spaces just to feel valid, visible and alive. Queer only spaces are our lifeline.

No: Jack Schofield

With increasing LGBT liberation, a trend of rising LGBT positivity among young people in particular, and let’s face it, better music and a fun culture, it is not surprising that straight people wish to be part of queer spaces, be that genuinely out of support, just to have a good time, or to make them feel good about themselves as allies, without actually doing anything. Whether the queer community should provide for that inclination is a complex debate, and should be argued asking what will be best for the LGBT community, as that is all that matters here.

Firstly, tempting though it may be to claim, society is not so unsafe that we need to create an entirely separate community for members of the LGBT community. Rather, those of us who can should seek to be members of society precisely like anyone else, in such a way as to show cis, straight people just how common queerness is, and how it has no impact on a person’s ability to work hard and be a fun person that anyone would wish to be around. Nice as it would be not to be dependent on our homophobic society, we simply cannot cut ourselves away from it, and so we must allow cishet people into our spaces to show that queer people are not different, but a normal and valuable part of our society.

Furthermore, it is directly through allowing cis straight people into our spaces that they are most likely to become all the more sympathetic to the cause of LGBT liberation, which in turn will help improve society. I would certainly wager that the more queer friends one has, the less likely it is to be an issue for them. It is a well known fact that humans fear the unknown; anti-immigrant views are most prevalent in areas where no immigrants are to be found, for example. In this way, letting cishet people in ‘normalises’ queerness and thus reduces the need for safe spaces.

A further important point is that the LGBT community has something of a duty to help closeted queer people. Until you come out as lesbian, gay, bisexual or trans, you evidently claim to be cis and straight, and so it simply cannot be assumed that all professedly cisgender, straight people going to Plush, gay bars, or attending LGBTQ+ Society drinks are not, in fact, queer. In my own experience, occasionally attending LGBTQ+ Society drinks while closeted massively helped to give me the confidence to come out, and I believe we would be doing a great disservice to other people if we were to knowingly make that painful process even harder.

Keeping events open allows queer people to have the broadest possible support network if and when they do come out, which is invaluable. Similarly, some queer people might want a friend to accompany them to their first few queer events, and that friend might not be queer themselves. This too should be borne in mind; consider the negative impacts that restricting entry could have on the very people such a policy would be supposed to help. I do, however, recognise that there are some queer spaces which should not be open to nonqueer people, such as support groups, whether online or in person. While a discussion group, such as NoHeterOx, should be open to all, there are other circumstances where LGBT people rightly want to talk openly only to those in the very best position to understand and help them in the right way, and that is those in the same boat as them.

In any case, while I strongly believe queer spaces should generally be open to all, this does not mean that anything goes. In queer discussion forums which are open to all, no cis, straight person should talk over a queer person, and generally speaking, cis, straight people should be there to listen and learn, and yes, to contribute a bit too. There is a simple reason for this: society at large is geared towards cishet lives and voices. Queer spaces must therefore remain places in which queerness prevails and queer people feel entirely safe to express themselves, however they wish. So if a straight man is hit on by a gay man in a queer space, they do not get to be off ended or awkward about it; queer people are allowed to assume any random person in a queer space is queer (in some way) while still accepting that they aren’t necessarily, because there is nowhere else in our lives that this assumption can be made.

Naturally, any person who is being homophobic or transphobic in a queer space should be required to leave, as the right of any person to enjoy queer spaces only goes so far. Regarding the controversy over the ever-popular Queerfest at Wadham last term, I agree it is unfair that an LGBT person wishing to attend a celebration of queerness and queer culture should miss out to swathes of cis, straight people, and that those ‘allies’ should reflect on their actions.

With this said – and I think cis, straight people wishing to make use of queer spaces would do well to have taken particular note of the last paragraph – I wish to convey a positive message that queer culture is something to be celebrated and something which can truly liberate us all. With gender roles in society seeking to limit every single one of us, queer and non-queer people alike benefit enormously from an increasing right to ‘be yourself’ beyond such things. Everyone would benefit hugely from coming to accept just how diverse humanity is and that there is creativity in and much to be learnt from the range of personalities which we all would naturally have, if we were given the message that being who we are, as we are, was fine.

Such a cultural change in society at large will make (and is already making) it easier and easier to come out as LGBT. As our relationship with labelling and fear of the Other reduces, queer identities will become less and less of an issue. This will only come about through openness on our part and our subsequent increasing visibility as everyday members of society