Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two babies..
What’s the difference? Is it the manner of their dying? Is it that one of them was wrapped in waves of saltwater and fell asleep, while the other was sleeping in a watery womb and was injected with salt? Is it that one of them washed ashore on a turquoise beach, photographed for the world to see, while the other was dumped with crimson offal and human waste, in a photograph that no-one wants to see? Is it that one of them is clothed in the sun with the primary colours of playtime, while the other lies exposed in the shadows with the bruises and blemishes of a lifetime? Is it that one of them lived to feel warm moments of love and see reasons for joy, while the other felt nothing but a seeming eternity of pain in a blind world of disdain?
Whatever, yesterday the Prime Minister said we could take no more refugees: it was not an answer to any problem. Then, look, a dead baby. And the Prime Minister said he was “deeply moved”. And so was Twitter. And so the policy changed. And so today it is announced that we will take many thousands of refugees, and tomorrow thousands upon thousands more. Suffer little children..
Look, a dead baby.