Power dynamics, arm twisting and migrant rights: the many (ugly) faces of migration diplomacy

Migration has undeniably taken centre stage in political discourse, not only as a domestic hot topic but also as a subject of intense international debate and diplomacy. Whilst domestically, many actors strategically politicise migration to bolster their voter base, internationally, migration is used by states in bilateral and multinational diplomatic negotiations as a tool to push their national migration or non-migration-related agendas.

Most recently, the EU announced a new multi-billion euro strategic partnership with Egypt and a multi-million euro agreement with Mauritania. Even more recently, on April 10th, the European Parliament passed the EU Pact on Migration and Asylum, which had been in the making for almost a decade. One of the four pillars of the Pact is “Embedding migration in international partnerships”, which is described by the EU as “a new paradigm based on comprehensive partnerships with countries of origin and transit to the EU,” referring to “concluded or advanced negotiations for global partnerships with Tunisia, Egypt, and Mauritania, covering issues such as economic cooperation, green energy, digital, cultural exchanges, better migration management, and security”. “This new approach embeds migration in international partnerships to prevent irregular departures and loss of life, fight migrant smuggling, reinforce cooperation on readmission and promote legal pathways.” In short: migration diplomacy. But migration diplomacy has many different faces. This article, therefore, offers a timely overview of the different ways in which states and blocs of states use migration in their diplomatic endeavours to achieve a variety of aims.

Traditionally, the concept of ‘migration diplomacy’ refers to how (blocs of) states, on the international stage, use negotiations and platforms to manage their migration objectives and set their agendas. It is born out of the increasing interconnectedness of aid, security and development. The term migration diplomacy is increasingly used, and often as an umbrella term, to refer to a wide variety of relations, discussions, agreements or disputes between states – or blocs of states – where migration dynamics somehow feature in the discussions. Yet, migration diplomacy comes in many shapes and forms. Discussions can be around existing migration dynamics and how to manage these, but migration can also be used as a tool for diplomatic leverage on a non-migration-related issue. There are examples where existing migration dynamics are deliberately exacerbated and others where novel migration dynamics are triggered to exert pressure on other states or supranational entities, like the EU. While, in most cases, the outcomes of migration diplomacy are rather negative for migrants themselves, there are some examples where states could exert power to realise better outcomes for the protection of migrants.

This article reviews these various forms of migration diplomacy and aims to offer an overview as a tool to see the forest for the trees in the rapidly expanding world of migration diplomacy. While the categories below are still loose and the examples provided could sometimes fit into multiple categories, this approach hopefully helps to better understand and assess existing and new migration diplomacy deals and dynamics.

‘Destination’ states engaging in migration diplomacy with origin and transit countries to control and prevent irregular immigration

A common and well-known form of migration diplomacy involves high-resourced ‘destination’ countries using their diplomatic powers and resources to engage ‘transit’ and ‘origin’ countries, primarily in the Global South, to assist in controlling and curbing existing irregular migration towards their borders. This relationship is often transactional and explicit, whereby the higher-resourced state offers attractive incentives to countries of origin or transit. These incentives could include access to trade markets, visas, investments, direct budgetary support, development funding or other forms of financial or non-financial support, but often include direct funding to migration management activities as well (e.g. through capacity building initiatives). In exchange, the receiving state is required to cooperate with preventing and controlling irregular migration including the onward movement of migrants, for example by accepting or facilitating push/pullbacks, offshore processing, containment measures, strengthening border controls or increasing support to existing refugee and migrant populations as an incentive to remain put. The outcomes of this form of migration diplomacy are usually overwhelmingly negative for migrants as it generally limits freedom of movement and migrants’ ability to seek safety and prosperity in preferred destination countries and could lead to harsh and violent border measures. However, there are isolated examples of more neutral outcomes.

Of note is the 2016 EU-Turkey deal. The deal aimed to address the sharp uptick of arrivals to Europe by placing responsibility on Türkiye to stem further movement of refugees and migrants into Europe. Under the deal, it was initially intended that those entering Europe irregularly from Türkiye through the Aegean Islands would be returned, and for every Syrian returned, the EU would accept one Syrian from Türkiye awaiting resettlement. Alongside billions of euros in funding, the EU offered Türkiye the opportunity to begin concession talks about visa-free travel into Europe, and eventual talks on EU membership, however, talks have remained stagnant. The effects of this controversial deal, alongside associated containment measures, have been primarily negative for migrants, although Türkiye has managed to leverage billions in support for Syrian refugees within its borders. Through the deal, the EU has also resettled over 30,000 Syrians.

In terms of offshore processing, unfortunate examples include Australia’s controversial establishment of detention centres in the resource-poor countries of Nauru and Manus Island, Papua New Guinea, in exchange for aid and development assistance. Under this system, once intercepted at sea, asylum seekers are forcibly transferred to Nauru or Manus Island and denied the opportunity to ever permanently settle in Australia – even if found to be owed protection – with resettlement to a third country or remaining in Nauru and PNG their only options. While this kind of offshoring has previously been an exceptional case and resulted in well-documented human rights violations, and adverse outcomes for migrants, Australia’s approach has increasingly generated significant interest from other countries pursuing ‘hard-line’ migration management, demonstrating how migration diplomacy can exert far-reaching effects beyond the immediate negotiating parties. Foremost among these is the United Kingdom, which eagerly seeks to implement a similar model, albeit unsuccessfully thus far, through the UK-Rwanda deal.

Addressing the ‘root causes’ of migration via aid and development funding to ‘origin’ states

Similar dynamics also underscore development funding from ‘destination’ states to ‘origin’ countries, aimed at addressing the ‘root causes’ of migration by fostering greater economic opportunities and diverting people away from considering irregular journeys. This form of aid and development funding is usually conditional and while it may result in benefits for nationals of recipient countries when it leads to well-designed, effective and successful development initiatives, there are also many, well-documented flaws in both logic and implementation.

Examples of this form of migration diplomacy include USAID’s recent announcement of more than $450 million to El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras to address the root causes of migration through increasing economic opportunities, promoting good governance and transparency, and reducing crime and violence. Another prime example is the EU Trust Fund providing funding to the Sahel, the Horn of Africa and North Africa. However, it is important to highlight funding for border management is often integrated into these agreements, resulting in the lines between ‘externalisation’ and ‘root causes’ development funding being blurred. Indeed, a significant proportion of the EU Trust Fund allocation has not actually gone to development projects, but rather to migration and border management projects. This link between development funding and migration in foreign and development policy has existed for several decades now, even though the notion that increasing development would lead to less migration is highly contested.

The carrot-and-stick approach

Accompanying both ‘externalisation’ and ‘root causes’ development funding is often a ‘carrot-and-stick approach’, whereby origin or transit states may face consequences, such as cuts in funding if they fail to cooperate with the terms of the agreement, or conversely, they may receive incentives, such as trade benefits, visa liberalisation, or other positive measures in exchange for cooperation. Returns agreements are a prime example – ‘origin’ and ‘transit’ countries agree to accept the return of migrants deemed not to have a lawful right to remain in ‘destination’ countries, in exchange for a set number of legal migration pathways for the receiving state. While the ‘carrot-and-stick’ approach can be a powerful component of migration diplomacy, it is usually effective only when wielded against significantly lower-power states with limited geopolitical relevance to the destination state. When states can leverage countermoves, such as instrumentalising migration through the disengagement from security cooperation, border control, or the threat of allowing mass irregular movements, the ‘stick’ has limited force.

Having the upper hand: ‘Origin’ and ‘transit’ countries’ instrumentalisation of migration

Commonly in migration diplomacy, high-resource ‘destination’ countries use their financial resources, and political power, to achieve outcomes directly related to their migration goals – i.e. to prevent irregular migration. However, for lower-resource states (usually origin or transit states) it is often the other way around: they use migration dynamics to achieve other outcomes such as gaining funds, legitimacy, political favours, etc. Paradoxically, often the latter is made possible by the former, whereby arguably more “powerful” states initially enter into a migration deal with a “weaker” party, or one at least perceived to be so, but only find themselves in a very uncomfortable negotiation position afterwards. Critics for example argue that the EU’s focus on migration as a security threat and commitment to externalisation has not prevented irregular migration, but rather, has “bankrolled dictators” and handed considerable power and funding into the hands of neighbouring authoritarian regimes at the expense of migrants themselves.

An example of the instrumentalisation of migration by transit and origin countries – in this case, in relation to the above-mentioned EU-Turkey deal – is President Erdogan in 2019 threatening to “open the gates” and allow migrants free movement into Europe. Migration was the tool to leverage a response, and behind Erdogan’s threat was an intent to address the issue of Syrian refugees in Türkiye – by seeking support from the EU to move ahead with repatriation and establish ‘safe zones’ within Syria. Another example is the late Libyan leader Ghaddafi threatening to ‘turn Europe black’ unless he received substantial Italian/EU funds and had its position on the international scene normalised. Or President al-Sisi of Egypt who has strategically utilised Egypt’s efforts to accommodate refugees and support the management of irregular migration, to secure crucial foreign funding to alleviate Egypt’s economic crisis. This has most recently culminated in an 8 billion euro ‘strategic partnership’ with the EU.

As such, migration diplomacy is not only an opportunity for high-resource destination states to exert their agendas. Migration dynamics can also be instrumentalised by origin and transit states to exert influence and negotiate advantageous terms in their diplomatic relations. This is seen in negotiations that are both directly and not directly migration-related. The result of instrumentalising migration – and in essence the weaponisation of migrants themselves – is unsurprisingly not usually positive for migrants, although there are isolated examples where positive outcomes have been achieved.

Similar dynamics are also seen in the EU’s agreement with Tunisia where 150 million euros of migration-related funds given to Tunisia last year allegedly ended up directly in the President’s pockets. Migrants in Tunisia were also used as scapegoats by the President, with the resulting terrible outcomes for migrants. Violence was instigated against migrants, migrants were left for dead in the desert, and the result actually led to an increase in migration departures towards Europe.

Similarly, there is the example of Niger – a main transit country for Sub-Saharan migrants heading to Europe via Libya and Algeria – putting pressure on the EU to attract millions of euros of funding to address irregular migration and smuggling.

Migration has also been instrumentalised in very specific negotiations. In 2021, Morocco encouraged the movement of up to 12,000 people in Spain’s enclave of Ceuta in response to Madrid’s decision to offer medical treatment to the leader of the Polisario Front seeking independence in Western Sahara. While occasional attempts to enter the Spanish enclaves in Morocco are common, Morocco in this case exacerbated an existing migration dynamic by ‘opening the gates’ and letting much higher numbers than usual enter Ceuta to put pressure on Spain on an issue completely unrelated to migration. In essence, Morocco weaponised migration to advance its claims on the Western Sahara.

Examples of migration diplomacy where the outcome can be positive for migrants

The examples above primarily resulted in negative outcomes for migrants. However, migration can also be leveraged for increased rights protection. One prominent example is the case of the Philippines. Between 2014-2022, in response to multiple instances of abuse against Filipino domestic workers, the country leveraged the demand for its workers in negotiations with two higher-resource countries, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates, to advocate for improved rights. The Philippine government instituted a temporary migration ban to both countries, which though initially sparking concerns from rights groups regarding its potential negative effect on migrants, compelled Kuwait and UAE to engage in discussions around greater protection for Filipino migrant workers. Highlighting the potency of such diplomatic manoeuvres and the agency of origin countries in shaping migration policies, the Philippines successfully secured a range of rights including Filipino workers not having to hand over their passports or mobile phones to Kuwaiti employers, as well as the possibility to open bank accounts in the UAE under their names.

Another example includes the recently forged migration pact between Australia and the low-lying Polynesian island country of Tuvalu. Through this agreement, Australia is promising to support Tuvalu in the face of climate change. This includes granting 280 permanent visas annually to Tuvaluans experiencing threats related to climate change, (which, in a country of 11,000 people, is not an insignificant number) and pledging to support and promote Tuvalu’s positions in regional and international fora. All this is in exchange for strengthened cooperation on security and stability with Australia – which in short, includes at the forefront, the right to veto Tuvalu from entering security or defence agreements with other countries (which in essence means China). In public statements surrounding the deal, Tuvalu’s President Natano has declared that given the existential threat that climate change presents for Tuvalu, he must ensure his people have the right to migrate as an adaptation strategy if they want to. This deal comes at a time of intense competition for geopolitical influence in the Pacific and while the core of the agreement is seemingly unrelated to migration, it showcases how migration pathways can be leveraged to foster cooperation on non-migration issues, and for the potential benefit of migrants.

In some cases – such as the examples of Belarus and Nicaragua discussed below – states instrumentalised migration by creating new pathways for migrants towards their intended destination, in order to put pressure on these destination states. On the one hand, it could be argued this could potentially result in positive outcomes for migrants, in the sense that it did enable some migrants to achieve their migration objectives through pathways that previously did not exist. However, it has obviously left many in extremely dangerous situations when they face harsh and violent border measures by destination states, such as those who were stranded between Belarus and Poland in the middle of the winter, which led to multiple deaths.

Being ambushed: novel migration situations to achieve diplomatic gains

Along with instrumentalising existing migration dynamics, there is also another form of migration diplomacy that involves the creation of novel migration dynamics to exert diplomatic power. This form of migration diplomacy typically aims to apply pressure on adversaries or more powerful states to advance political interests.

An obvious case in point is when the Belarusian President Lukashenko, in 2021, orchestrated a ‘new migration crisis’ on Europe’s doorstep. By directing thousands of migrants towards the border with Lithuania, Latvia and Poland, Lukashenko aimed to retaliate against sanctions and criticism from the EU. This manoeuvre not only intensified tensions between the EU and Belarus but also left migrants in precarious and dangerous situations, as mentioned above. Similarly, Russia has more recently been accused by Finland of instrumentalising migration and undertaking “hybrid warfare” by funnelling migrants towards their shared border.

To exemplify the extent to which such instrumentalisation has made it to the top of the political agendas, the new EU Pact on Migration and Asylum which was just passed by the European Parliament, includes specific crisis protocols and action against instrumentalisation under pillar 1 (secure external borders). This was developed mainly in response to the Belarus situation. These protocols would allow for Member States to derogate from or restrict the rights of asylum seekers – including denying entry – in situations perceived by a Member State as a crisis because a third country allows or facilitates the movement of asylum seekers towards the EU. This response to such instrumentalisation of migration shows how border security and prevention of migration continue to prevail over the rights and wellbeing of migrants and asylum seekers and does not bode well for similar situations in the future.

In Central America, in 2021, Nicaraguan President Ortega also responded to U.S. sanctions by gradually lifting visa restrictions for various nationalities, starting with Cubans, and following with other Latin American countries, and eventually several Asian and African nations, including Indians, Uzbekistanis, and people from Mauritania and Senegal. This effectively turned Nicaragua into a launchpad for northward migration and resulted in some operators arranging charter flights of migrants into Nicaragua. This strategic move has fuelled a notable increase in migration towards the Mexico-US border, indicating its effectiveness in challenging the Biden administration’s immigration policies. These examples underscore the potential for state actors to create and exploit migration dynamics as a means of exerting pressure and destabilising neighbouring regions.

Shifting power dynamics

From high-resourced destination countries attempting to control irregular migration to their borders, to origin and transit states leveraging migration to assert their interests with more dominant partners, the dynamics of migration diplomacy are complex and shaped by power asymmetries. Migration has become an important ‘tool’ that can be powerfully wielded, particularly when destination states have something to lose, for example, for economies that rely heavily on migrant labour or among states that have weaponised hard-line border management to win voter support. In essence, by engaging so actively in migration diplomacy, destination states have effectively left themselves vulnerable to blackmail by less powerful states who can instrumentalise migration, and easily attack their ‘Achilles heel’.   While some outcomes of migration diplomacy may be a step forward for migrant rights, fostering positive cooperation between states, this remains exceptional, and most others involve the direct and indirect weaponisation of migration for political gain.

Future migration diplomacy dynamics could shift though. While, right now, most destination states engage in migration diplomacy to reduce arrivals, and origin or transit states know they will receive incentives if they support destination states in that objective, the increasingly pressing labour shortages and ageing societies in many high-resource destination countries could potentially turn things upside down. According to a recent study conducted by the Centre for Global Development, in 2050 high and upper-middle income countries will collectively reach a gap of 667 million workers, while low and lower-middle income countries will have a “surplus” of 463 million. To give a few examples, according to this forecast Germany will have a workers gap of 15 million, the USA 29 million and China 384 million. It is easy to see how, against this background, “traditional” destination countries might soon find themselves competing with each other to attract migrant workers. Or, perhaps, this is already happening but it is simply something not so openly discussed, given how sensitive the topic of migration remains in public and political debates.

From this perspective, the leverage countries of origin can bring to the migration diplomacy arena could change from the power (or at least willingness) to stop migration to being able to “offer” a precious and scarce resource: surplus workforce. Destination countries might have to use their political and economic power to convince origin countries to send more migrants, instead of stopping them. As such, in the future we could start to see situations that resemble the case of the Philippines vis-à-vis the Gulf States.

… and uncertain outcomes for refugees and migrants  

What remains to be seen is whether origin countries will – as the Philippines did – use such a position to bargain for better outcomes for their citizens abroad. If they will, it could have a positive impact and transform the predominantly negative migration diplomacy dynamics into a force for positive change for the working conditions and protection of migrants in destination countries; a group which currently often lacks real power and representation. However, countries of origin may also follow another path, and use they own migrants more as bargaining chips, putting their own economic gain and political interest ahead of the rights, wellbeing, and interests of their citizens abroad.

While they will have an important responsibility to make the right choice for the protection of migrants and there are glimmers of hope as discussed above, the current evolution of migration diplomacy – and the way the issue of instrumentalisation is included in the new EU Pact on Migration and Asylum – does not offer much reason for optimism in the short term. Time and again, the outcomes of migration diplomacy deals seem to be primarily negative for migrants, leading to containment, violent and harsh border measures, instrumentalisation, severe protection concerns, bankrolling and legitimising authoritarian regimes and, quite often, not even leading to the primary goal of destination states to significantly reduce numbers.