Violent Inaction: The Necropolitical Experience of Refugees in Europe

: A significant outcome of the global crisis for refugees has been the abandonment of forced migrants to live in makeshift camps inside the EU. This paper details how state authorities have prevented refugees from surviving with formal provision, leading directly to thousands having to live in hazardous spaces such as the informal camp in Calais, the site of this study. We then explore the violent consequences of this abandon- ment. By bringing together thus far poorly integrated literatures on bio/necropolitics (Michel Foucault; Achille Mbembe) and structural violence (Johan Galtung), we retheorize the connections between deliberate political indifference towards refugees and the physiological violence they suffer. In framing the management of refugees as a series of violent in actions, we demonstrate how the biopolitics of migrant control has given way to necropolitical brutality. Advancing geographies of violence and migration, the paper argues that political inaction , as well as action, can be used as a means of control.


Introduction
With global refugee numbers at their highest since the end of the Second World War (UNHCR 2015), EU states have been collectively failing to guarantee adequate provision and recourse to asylum for refugees. Thousands of forced migrants deep within European territories have resorted to living informally in urban and rural spaces with minimal or no state intervention. The scale and concentrated spatiality of such makeshift refugee encampments within advanced liberal states is unprecedented. In 2015 the largest such site in northern Europe was the so-called "new jungle" in Calais, France, which by the end of that year housed 6000 refugees, rising to 10,000 in 2016.
While important scholarship on such sites has focused on the agency and political resistance of forced migrants (Millner 2011;Ramadan 2013a;Rygiel 2011;Sigona 2015), this article takes a different approach. Instead we explore the violent consequences of state (in)action in an informal camp. Using empirical data from a study conducted in Calais in 2015, this paper seeks to uncover (1) the (bio) political mechanics through which asylum seekers in Europe are abandoned by European state and supra-state agencies, and (2) the stark, material and bodily consequences of these necropolitical (in)actions on refugees within and beyond the camp. The empirical data therefore help draw a direct line between the governmental mechanics refugees are subject to, and the violence they were exposed to in Calais. We conceptualize the empirical material using a framework that brings together thus far poorly integrated literature on bio/necropolitics (Foucault 1978(Foucault , 1997Mbembe 2003) and structural violence (Galtung 1969). By doing so, we trace the connections between the political abandonment of refugees and the physiological violence they suffer. By framing the management of refugees in Calais as a series of inactions, the paper demonstrates how the biopolitics of migrant control has given way to necropolitical brutality.
The paper begins by putting the Calais encampments within a contemporary historical context. We then review literature related to bio/necropolitics and violence as theoretical lenses for our analysis. After describing the research methodology, the paper's empirical findings are presented in two parts, intrinsically linked. The first part, "Abandoned to Informal Existence", describes some of the ways in which refugees in Calais had come to find themselves in the makeshift encampment, as they try to negotiate inflexible and insufficient levels of EU protection. This section is crucial to rebuke notions that forced migrants in Calais are suffering through their own individual negligence or reluctance to apply for asylum in EU countries of arrival. This leads on to the second empirical section, "Violence of the Camp and Deliberate State Indifference", which exposes the subsequent violent consequences of state inaction. This section details the ways in which residents of the camp were subject to spatial constriction, bodily harm and deplorable public health conditions. We conclude with a discussion emphasizing that refugee experiences in Calais are a result of structural violence, a violence operationalized through multi-scalar state withdrawal as well as state action. By doing so we argue that such denial of provision is tantamount to violence by EU states towards refugees.

The Calais Camp in Context
The Calais camp was located in France on the northern edge of the European Union's Schengen area (see Figure 1), within which travellers are permitted to cross borders without systematic immigration control procedures. The United Kingdom, although part of the EU, is not part of the Schengen area, and therefore Calais became both a bottleneck for migrants attempting to reach the UK, as well as "an emblem for mass suffering of refugees" (Hurley 2016:1). During the course of the research in Calais, we encountered refugees from 16 nationalities, some of whom had spent over a year in the French town. Many were awaiting an opportunity to smuggle themselves through the border in a lorry, or seeking an equally dangerous route involving jumping onto passing trains as they cross through the Eurotunnel (Ansems de Vries et al. 2016). A large minority of other residents were also waiting to seek asylum in France. All forced migrants encountered in Calais were living in poor and informal conditions with little-if any-assistance from the French state or the EU .
Such informal settlements have existed in Calais since the late 1990s, especially since the closure of the Sangatte processing centre in 2002. In 2015, however, there were two key developments relating to the numbers of migrants in Calais, and the location of their settlements. In terms of numbers of residents, despite the number of "roving" asylum seekers living in the Calais area having reached an estimated 3000 at some point before 2002 (UNHCR cited in Reinisch 2015:521), the estimated refugee population throughout the border town had usually remained between 1000 and 1500. In 2015, however, the number of refugees in Calais dramatically increased, echoing global refugee levels. The numbers living in the camp fluctuated daily, but by July 2015 during the second research visit, this number had reached over 3000. By November 2015 the camp's population had redoubled to 6000. While the majority of residents were male, a minority of female inhabitants also resided in the camp. Furthermore, a survey jointly conducted by L'Auberge des Migrants and Help Refugees estimated that the population of the camp included 445 children, 305 of which were unaccompanied (McAuley 2016).
The second key development in 2015 was the forced concentration of refugees onto a single squalid site. Prior to 2015, migrants in Calais tended to live in small "squatter camps" around the town (see Millner 2011), often dubbed "jungles". The term "jungle" to describe informal settlements in Calais is very problematic, yet was often used by refugee residents of the camp. When asked about the term, participants appropriated it, often to demonstrate that they were being "treated like animals". For this reason we use the term cautiously, in inverted commas. As of April 2015, French police and security services systematically demolished smaller squatter camps in Calais, forcibly moving refugees to the new peripheral location (see Figures 2 and 3). Consequently, from April 2015 this "new jungle" became the only permitted site for forced migrants to inhabit. This new site was approximately 0.5 km 2 and lay on wasteland, part of which was formerly an industrial site. Whilst the "new jungle" sat adjacent to the Jules Ferry Centre, which provided accommodation to only 200 refugee women and children, the site itself was not managed or administered by the French state in any meaningful way, and refugees were left to look after themselves, dependent on their own resources and any extra assistance provided by charities, NGOs and visiting volunteers. After the research period, in March 2016 the French government forcibly demolished parts of the camp, and provided inadequate temporary housing in shipping containers for a minority of those displaced. However, most of those who had their self-built shelters demolished in these acts of refugee urbicide simply relocated to other parts of the "new jungle". The Calais camp in which this research was conducted was bulldozed in November 2016, but informal camps remain an integral part of the refugee experience in northern France.
In recent years camps have been the landscapes of significant political change and revolution. The barricaded battleground of the Maidan in Ukraine, for example, which helped overthrow President Yanukovych (Phillips 2014), or the events in Egypt's Tahrir Square where the "camp defeated the dictator" (Ramadan 2013b). While the geopolitical importance of these spaces has been made clear (Minca 2005), as well as their potential to be everyday sites of political resistance and urban experimentation (Katz 2016;Sigona 2015), the informal refugee camp within the EU has increasingly become a space of stagnation and a symptom of political failure.

Biopolitics, Necropolitics, and Violence
The concept of "biopolitics" is now extensively used throughout geography and the social sciences as a lens through which to understand forced migration and its governance (see Amoore 2006;Minca 2015;Vaughan-Williams 2015). For Foucault (1978Foucault ( , 1997) biopolitics alludes to a historical shift towards the use of power to protect, regulate and manage the life of the "legitimate" population (Lemke 2011). Biopolitics can therefore refer to the emergence of liberal nation-states often using a vast spectrum of democratic, legal and managerial apparatus in order to administer life within, and sometimes beyond its borders (see Brachet 2015). In the context of governing migration into the EU, this managerialism is evident in both the strategies and rhetoric of immigration control; as Bialasiewicz (2012:852) notes, the EU's border-work is presented as a technical exercise underpinned by managerial language of co-operation, partnership, best practice and technical know-how. Power operationalized in this way is therefore subtler in its tactics, but can obscure the often brutal consequences: "Such a power has to qualify, measure, appraise, and hierarchize, rather than display itself in its murderous splendor" (Foucault 1978:144). Processes of management through documentation are discussed in the first empirical section-and the acts of fingerprinting, identification and being provided with documents that offer a legal avenue for protection may all be considered to be biopolitical technologies of government (Amoore 2006;Nguyen 2015). This may raise the question as to how necropolitics contributes to the theoretical framing. Necropolitics was in part a reaction to the inadequacy of biopolitics to conceptualize the more extreme cases of body regulation, when life was not so much being governed, as much as death itself was being sanctioned. Through necropolitics, Mbembe (2003) builds upon Foucault's famous flip of the medieval couplet "making die/letting live", which has evolved into the modern "making live/letting die" (Fassin 2009;Sparke 2014:690). Partly inspired by the work of Giorgio Agamben (1998), Mbembe introduced necropolitics, not in relation to the camp per se, but in relation to the more brutal forms of oppression found in colonial spaces such as the plantations on which slaves toiled. Within these spaces Mbembe highlights how brutality was administered to the colonized body. He also addresses the more Eurocentric theorizations of both Agamben (1998) and Foucault (1978Foucault ( , 1997, by putting race firmly at the centre of his analysis. Despite the prefix "necro", necropolitics can apply outside of outright death, as well as beyond historic spaces of the colony. Whilst the focus of this paper is not on the racialized nature of exclusion, it remains a pertinent theme of the Calais narrative. Ultimately it is the racialized identity and status of Calais' migrant population that allows for them to be neglected by state authorities in this way (see Bauman 2004). The "new jungle" and its predecessors have become a concentrated visible symbol of the "apartheid" of migrant Others from the Global South, who survive in conditions far removed from the residences of normative French and EU citizens, living in their neat houses with kept gardens, even on the camp's very periphery (Rigby and Schlembach 2013).
Mbembe also draws attention to the "morbid spectacle" (2003:35) of suffering and the experience of "death-in-life" (2003:21) that emerges from deliberately produced abject conditions and it is this observation that is most relevant to our paper. The permanent wounding of individuals, rather than their direct and active killing, can be used as a means of control. Suffering therefore can be become a political technology, where certain groups are exposed to conditions in which they are "kept alive but in a state of injury" (Mbembe 2003:21). Within this necropolitical system of domination, conditions that are "obscene, vulgar and grotesque" (Mbembe 1992:1) become sanctioned for political ends.
Before returning to the notion of being kept "permanently injured", we should emphasize that biopolitics and necropolitics are interrelated rather than antithetical. Recent scholarship has begun to articulate the intricate entanglements between biopolitical and necropolitical modes of governance, viewing them as separate concepts that are nevertheless intrinsically linked (McIntyre and Nast 2011). For example,  examines the nexus between life and death at the US-Mexico border, suggesting that a "bionecro enforcement regime" is being enacted, whereby unwanted migrants have their biological life minimally cared for by medics only insofar as to ensure their swift deportation. Castro (2015) too, in his research-again on the US-Mexico border-describes how the biopolitical production of life is enmeshed within the fabric of Mbembe's death worlds, arguing that expendable migrants are exposed to the "necroeconomy of disposability" (Castro 2015:249). The interlinking of the biopolitical fostering and management of life with its necropolitical limitation or disavowal can also be seen in research into normalized racism (Lee and Pratt 2012). For Lee and Pratt, paths to citizenship necessitate forms of injury and violence that can be both spectacular and brutal-as well as clandestine and slow. Thus the confluence of "necro" of "bio" forms of governance challenges the notion that they are binary oppositional forces; they "do not merely sit opposite one another; they constitute a spatial dialectical unity" (McIntyre andNast 2011:1472). This spatial dialectical unity is evident in the Calais case study in which biopolitical regulations are seen to give way to necropolitical inactions.

Necropolitics and Structural Violence
Returning to the notion of being kept in "permanent injury", Mbembe's notion of necropolitics implies a political violence being administered to a particular group through constriction: being deprived of the opportunity or freedom to improve one's hazardous or miserable condition. This constriction can be operationalized through political action-but also through inaction. Advanced states such as those in northern Europe have ample resources with which to ensure those within its borders are protected from hunger, provided with shelter and given the security required to live without constant fear. Welfare systems are relatively well funded; but just as power can be activated by such states through distribution of provision, exclusionary power can be exerted through its withdrawal. When such securities are removed, regulated so as to exclude marginalized groups or kept purposely insufficient, individuals may fall victim to harmful conditions that are easily preventable. "Letting die" in this way can therefore be seen as "an active inaction" (Tyner 2016a:206), in other words, power can be administered through the deliberate withholding of care, and public health can be denied as a means of control. Recent scholarship in this journal has drawn attention to the "let die" violence implicit in Mbembe's work. Gilbert and Ponder (2014) have explored how withholding compensation for 9/11 victims can be considered tantamount to a violent act (see Davies and Polese 2015;Round and Kuznetsova 2016). Squire (2015) discusses how "acts of desertion" in the Sonoran desert induces the "abjectification" of migrant others.
With few notable exceptions (see Tyner and Rice 2015), relatively little has been written connecting Mbembe's necropolitical work with the idea of "structural violence" as posited by Johan Galtung (1969). This is surprising given that biological harm and the potentiality of death are central to necropower, which transcends the direct violence of genocide or active killing. Galtung has been highly influential in many academic fields, including sociology, anthropology and peace studies by defining "structural violence" as a means to analyse institutionalized forms of repression on Othered populations. He interrogates the idea of violence, arguing that it is "present when human beings are being influenced so that their actual somatic and mental realizations are below their potential" (1969:168). For Galtung, unlike "personal violence" by an individual "which shows" (1969:173), structural violence is more silent, more stealthy (see Li 2010)-concealed within the "hidden violence of abandonment" (Davies and Polese 2015:38). Structural violence maintains an unseen quality that is institutionalized within wider structures and therefore normalized (DeVerteuil 2015). In this way, violence can be seen as "a processual and unfolding moment, rather than as an 'act' or 'outcome'" (Springer and Le Billon 2016:2). The spatialization of such suffering may not always be invisible in a literal sense, but the vulgar banality of structural brutality allows such everyday forms of violence to be hidden in plain view (Mbembe 1992). This theme is also taken up by Nixon (2011:2) who describes "slow violence" as a delayed destruction, occurring attritionally across space and time, and often out of sight. Structural violence tends to be latent rather than manifest. Yet it is also more consistent and more static, because unlike personal violence which is rarely legitimized explicitly by state authorities, structural violence is underpinned by social order itself (Galtung 1969:173). The notion of structural violence is also implicit within Mbembe's (2003) writing about the post-colony, in which necropolitics is framed as an institutional form of oppression upon the colonized body.
Galtung also distinguishes between the "physical" violence of being attached by direct contact such as being punched, burnt, poisoned or attacked with weapons, and "physiological" violence which is the denial of air, water, food or constrained movement (Galtung 1969:174). This latter form of violence is more likely to be structural in nature, and is evident in the empirical case study. Similarly, the "repressed topographies of cruelty" of which, Mbembe writes (2003:40), can also be interpreted as a spatialized form of structural and physiological violence. Structural violence takes place when certain people are "left to suffer in agonizing circumstances that are normalised through the law" (Gilbert and Ponder 2014). In these conditions, excluded groups may not be actively killed but are instead allowed to suffer the brutal indignity of harmful spatial environments. There is a danger of drawing too stark a divide between direct and structural violence (Loyd 2012;Tyner 2016b), indeed a violent accord can exist between them. For example, rather than being dichotomous, the physical violence that migrants suffer works in unison with the brutal conditions they are exposed to.
Ultimately this paper responds to Tyner and Inwood's call "to use violence as a theoretical vantage point for a more comprehensive and sustained analysis of social and spatial relations" (2014:6). Bringing together thus far poorly integrated strands of bio/necropolitics and structural violence allows us to identify some of the processes through which structural violence is meted out in relation to the impact of migration policy on the residents of the Calais camp. By framing political measures as inactions as well as actions, we can uncover forms of violence delivered by migration policies: policies which seek to govern through the calculated withholding of the means to live.

Methods
This study took place during two research periods in Calais, in April and July 2015. The first research visit was designed as an exploratory piece of fieldwork to catalogue the experiences and expectations of refugees who had come to Calais, a majority of whom intended to migrate onwards to the UK. Semi-structured interviews were designed with a view to gathering narratives of journeys into Europe and to Calais, including motivations for migration, routes of travel, experiences of negotiating border controls and evidence of how documentation was allowing or restricting mobility. Nonetheless the research team acknowledged that participants would have likely been through traumatic experiences and ethical considerations were paramount. Due to the constant presence of hunger in the camp, all participants were provided with food and hygiene packs for themselves and fellow residents in their sub-camps, and this was not conditional on their participation. As many scholars have rightly commented (Jacobsen and Landau 2003; Mackenzie et al. 2007), there are particular challenges to conducting research with vulnerable groups that necessitate going beyond a "do no harm" research practice.
The first research visit took place a few days after the displaced migrants had been systematically and forcibly cleared from former squatter camps in more central locations, to the peripheral new site alongside the Jules Ferry Centre. The living conditions in the camp were plainly so poor, that cataloguing these through photographs and observation became part of the data-collection process. Fieldnotes and reflections were drafted every night and special efforts were made to count, for instance, the number of toilets, water access points and whether residents had been provided with any food or opportunities to wash by state or NGO organizations. On the first visit, 21 interviews were conducted with residents and over 500 photographs were made of camp conditions, with participant identities protected. The purpose of anonymity was not just for standard ethical reasons but was also attentive to the research context (Saunders et al. 2015); several residents of the camp described their displeasure of being photographed by photojournalists in the camp because of feelings of shame associated with living in such squalid conditions. Participants often described how they "don't want my mother to see me like this", and becoming photographed was a not just a threat in terms of potential identification by border authorities or people smugglers, but also by their family members back in origin countries who may be upset at seeing them suffering in the camp.
As the importance of cataloguing the environmental conditions of the camp became clear, a second ESRC-funded visit took place, which focused more specifically on the public health situation. Eleven group interviews were conducted within different sub-camps, detailing conditions and everyday life in the context of food, hygiene, shelter and experiences of physical and psychological trauma. As part of this second visit, a full environmental health study was conducted on each site, and though the results of this assessment cannot be captured in the limited scope of this paper, initial results are published in a research report (Dhesi et al. 2015;The Guardian 2015). These results are alluded to briefly within the empirical sections of this paper. Additional information was gathered through close links with Doctors of the World, the only NGO delivering medical aid in the camp during the research period. In line with Mackenzie et al. (2007), we shared our research findings and recommendations with NGOs as soon as possible. During this study, 14 further interviews of varying lengths were conducted about motivations, journeys to Europe, tactics of survival and border negotiation. Though generally in English, some interviews with Afghan and Pakistani residents were also conducted by the research team in Urdu.

Abandoned to Informal Existence
To understand the ways in which refugees in Calais were institutionally abandoned upon entry into the EU, we must explore their experiences of arrival and understand the mechanics through which this abandonment takes place. The Dublin Convention, which regulates refugee arrivals into the EU, was enforced in 1997; its chief aim being to establish a set of principles for assigning responsibility for asylum seekers to particular EU member states. A key principle of that convention and its successive agreements in 2003 and 2013 is the notion that an asylum seeker must apply for protection status in the first EU country they arrive in. Italy and Greece, situated along "Shengen's soft underbelly" (Pastore et al. 2006:95), have hosted far more arrivals from outside the EU than other member states, and the legal framework can therefore be seen as producing a lopsided system. Countries that are relatively less equipped to provide refugee protection are made to bear responsibility for larger numbers of refugee applicants and the subsequent provisions and entitlements due to them, based upon their peripheral geographic position on the edge of the EU (Eurostat 2015).
Despite this, a majority of refugees interviewed for this research felt they had been "abandoned" by European state authorities. To explain how this abandonment takes place, a closer look at the application and asylum-seeker experience is necessary. During the research period for this project, most interviewees in the camp had travelled the Central Mediterranean route to Europe via North Africa and Italy. When refugees landed in Italy they were strongly encouraged and sometimes coerced into being fingerprinted, photographed and registered by the Italian border police or port authorities, a biopolitical act of surveillance known as fotosegnalamento. Indeed, a European Commission statement to Italian authorities approved "the use of force for fingerprinting and … longer term retention for those migrants that resist fingerprinting" (European Commission 2015:4). In this way, the EU border is underpinned by a securitized nationalism regulated by biometric identification (Sparke 2006). Just as Sparke has uncovered the potential carceral consequences of transgressing the US border without documentation, the threat of prison is also a distinct possibility for asylum seekers entering the EU who do not cooperate with these biopolitical procedures. This biometric process can be seen as one of the diverse techniques for subjugating bodies in order to control populations (Foucault 1978). Several interviewees experienced this quasi-carceral process of documentation. For example, one participant from Sudan recalled: "The police tell us that we must put your finger here [gesturing being fingerprinted as part of the registration process in Italy]. If you don't put your finger there, the police will take us to prison." Following this biometric process, migrants must be formally registered through the second-stage verbalizzazione (verbalization) process, involving the submission of a statement and detailed information about the specific nature of the asylum claim. By the time the asylum process reaches this second stage, refugees are expected to be housed in reception centres, distributed across Italy's various regions. Whilst the above process indicates the de jour legal framework within which asylum claims are to be made by EU law, the de facto process and experience was strikingly different, as evidenced in our research. Participants routinely indicated that upon arrival in Italy, they were denied provision and shelter, often only being allowed to spend a maximum of 2-5 days in emergency reception centres before being made to leave. This led directly to refugees living informally and homeless in Italy, as indicated consistently by interviewees. Refugee homelessness and destitution in Italy has been well documented by the Swiss Refugee Council (Nuffer and Trummer 2013) and other NGOs (AIDA 2014), who ascribe it partly as a consequence of delays between the finger-printing and formal registration process. It is only after the latter of these biopolitical processes that asylum seekers can be housed in a reception centre. Indeed, destitution and homelessness of refugees throughout Europe has been reported by the EU itself (European Commission 2014). As a result, interviewees expressed their doubts as to whether any accommodation would be forthcoming within the formal asylum system. They described having to find spaces to sleep under entrances of commercial properties, in public parks (from which they would be forcefully removed) and in train stations. This indicates the most overt form of abandonment experienced by the asylum seekersan absence of the necessary means to live within the EU country of reception. As an Eritrean interviewee said: You don't have work; you don't have a room … this is not the way to live. On the road, you find those who are drunk and high on drugs-this is not a good life. The fascists are also on the road and if I am to sleep on the road, then maybe he or someone else might kill me.

Coerced Onwards Migration
The abandonment is more active still when we find that many of our interviewees were explicitly directed and coerced into moving to other European countries by police and border authorities, being informed that they could not expect provisions in Italy. Adding to this coerced mobility further, some were even shown or provided with maps to encourage them to go north into other European countries. This cartographic enablement thus produced further abandonment, and such coercion means refugees find themselves in a bureaucratic bind. Following registration in Italy, these nominally documented refugees are not permitted to register for asylum in any other EU country, for a period of at least 12 months (Article 13, Council Regulation No. 604/2013). Inability to register for asylum also disallows for state subsistence to be provided; coerced mobility translates into forced informality, in which refugees must rely on their own efforts to find informal or "illegal" work to survive. Refugees therefore enter a "hyper-precarious" situation of bureaucratic entrapment (Lewis et al. 2015:593); they are denied provision in one country (Italy), and simultaneously coerced to move into other EU states where they would no longer be eligible for either asylum or provision.
The process of legal inclusion-of being nominally documented-in this instance results in de facto exclusion, from the very material objects and political rights that would allow asylum seekers to survive healthily within the EU. This clearly problematizes Agamben's (1998) legalistic framing of refugees as bare life, with a simultaneous de jure legal entitlement and documentation paradoxically existing alongside a lived reality of abandonment. This bind of forced mobility of refugees is reinforced by the ban on employment for unregistered asylum seekers. Their possibility of finding legal employment in such a scenario is extinguished. The Violent Inaction abandonment of refugees is therefore constructed actively, first between the denial of provisions upon entry to the EU, and second, the subsequent coerced mobility into northern European states. It is not only the refugees who arrived from the Central Mediterranean route who faced the potential abandonment through nominal inclusion; the predominantly Syrian and Afghan refugees arriving through Turkey into Greece also explained the peril of being finger-printed in Hungary, a country whose right-wing government has been amongst the most vocal in opposition to any refugees being allowed through into the EU. As a Syrian participant remarked: "In Hungary you have to be very careful. In towns and cities we walked apart [from each other] and pretended to be Hungarians. If police catch you they sometimes make you register in Hungary, and then [we are] trapped".
Without question, some refugees in Calais had set out from their home country with the destination of the UK in mind, with language, colonial history and familial links all discussed as driving factors. But for many residents of the camp it was the experience of systematic abandonment, discrimination and coerced mobility while inside the EU that had led them on an uncertain path to northern France. For this group, Calais is the temporary apogee of an extemporary, ad hoc and forced migration. Furthermore, a sizable yet under-reported minority of camp residents had no intention of reaching the UK and were going through the formal process of claiming asylum in France. Indeed some participants were waiting up to five months for accommodation to be granted, being forced to endure the squalor, hardship and indignity of the "new jungle" until that point.
Whether individual refugees have been caught in the aforementioned biopolitical binds of limited documentation-whether they are unsupported in their attempts to reunify with family members in the UK or live in a country in which they can communicate more effectively-or whether they find themselves in Calais on a long waiting list for housing, in all instances they are, temporarily at least, resigned to live informally within the makeshift camp. All of them had travelled through a gauntlet of biopolitical surveillance and border technologies, where the process of documentation either offered no direct benefit, or restricted their mobility.
Whereas this section has highlighted the active ways in which the state has attempted to biopolitically control immigration, the following section will reveal the necropolitical outcomes of deliberate state inaction. As the next section will demonstrate, the conditions to which all these forced migrants are abandoned to, have violent, bodily consequences.

Violence of the Camp and Deliberate State Indifference
When I arrived at the Jungle, suddenly I find that people are living like this, I thought to myself: "Is this really Europe?" This is Europe! This is France!? For a long time I thought that people did not live like this, people are living under the tree! Under a tree! (Sudanese participant) Abandoned by authorities to live informally, residents of the Calais camp found themselves exposed to stark conditions that have profound and detrimental consequences for their health and wellbeing. It is at this point at which the abandonment can be said to have led directly to violence on the refugee body. The violence is consequently structural (Galtung 1969) and takes place across a range of scales, from the confinement of living in the polluted and ill-equipped makeshift encampment, to the violence then enacted very directly on-and within-refugee bodies, through assault, preventable illness and the systematic deprivation of food.
In describing these acts of violence, we begin with the confinement of refugees in the makeshift spatialities of the "new jungle". The securitization of Calais is evident in the heavy police presence, which led to over 18,000 migrants being arrested in 2015 alone (Milmo 2015). Police brutality was widely reported during interviews with refugees, as well as physical attacks from racist thugs in the town or at the edges of the informal camp. Fear of this, as well as the disciplined mobility of removal (Moran et al. 2012) meant that residents of the "new jungle" considered public urban spaces in Calais unsafe or off-limits. The restricted mobility of refugees was also reinforced by the aggressive border control infrastructures, including a large security fence and wall funded by the British government, to prevent camp residents accessing the adjacent road from which they might be able to smuggle themselves onto lorries heading for Dover. Despite the deprivation and squalor of the camp, and the deliberate lack of state support, the "new jungle" remained the only viable location for refugees who were forcibly prevented from living elsewhere.
Refugee camps are often "demonstratively peripheral sites" (Diken 2004:91) and the "new jungle" on the far eastern edges of Calais was no exception. The miserable conditions of the camp were highly detrimental to the health and wellbeing of its inhabitants and this was exacerbated by the geographic location of the encampment itself. It was situated in a "Seveso Zone" of moderate toxic risk, due to its proximity to two chemical plants, and while conducting this research we noticed distinct chemical smells emanating from the plant and drifting across the site. Adding to this environmental injustice, the camp was also located on an informal dumping ground, with piles of building waste and other hazardous material jutting out of the sand and intermingling with the tents. The sight of such waste and rubble provides a grim metaphor for the "wasted lives" of those residing within the camp (see Bauman 2004). Squire (2014) rightly encourages attentiveness to the materiality of refugee objects-and, alarmingly, many broken pieces of highly toxic chrysotile (white asbestos) were also located in the overcrowded camp, which can cause asbestosis, mesothelioma and lung cancer, among other health problems. This toxic materiality and its invisible carcinogenic threats are emblematic of the "stealthy" (Li 2010:67) acts of violence and "desertion" (Squire 2015) that refugees are allowed to suffer. In these hidden polluted spaces, the disposability of certain objects-as well as certain people-exists in a hazardous union (Gidwani and Reddy 2011). The squalor of the Calais camp has connections with other racialized hazardous wastelands, where marginalized groups are designated "surplus"; wasted-and exposed to waste-as part of neoliberalism's totalizing mode of production (Yates 2011;cf. Moore 2009).
Although the camp was the only site near Calais where refugees were permitted to live, the humanitarian facilities therein did not approach suitable standards. For example, during the first research visit to the camp in April 2015, an initial population of roughly 1500 newly (and forcibly) relocated refugees had regular access to just one water point and four filthy NGO-built drop-toilets (Dhesi et al. 2015). Many refugees had to drag water up to a kilometre through the rubble and sand dunes of the camp. By the summer in 2015, the number of residents had more than doubled to over 3000, with only one toilet per 75 residents, far below Sphere Project and United Nations recommendations of a minimum of one per 20 in emergency situations (Sphere Project 2015;UNHCR 2007). Early 2016 saw the population double again to 6000, and the abject conditions of the few available toilets forced many residents to openly defecate near to where they lived and prepared food, adding to the wretched nature of this makeshift encampment and its related health risks.
Lack of sanitation for thousands of refugee residents is clear evidence of social injustice and a deliberate state inaction, which can be read as a stark form of structural violence (Jewitt 2011;McFarlane and Silver 2017). The active state practices and biopolitical experiences of pan-EU migration highlighted in the previous section can be compared with the deliberately inactive, violently forsaking forms of desertion that allow such squalid conditions to continue. Together, these form a tapestry of "bio" and "necro" forms of governance. The camp's grave environmental health conditions were regarded with deliberate indifference by French authorities who intentionally withheld care. The continual disavowal of basic services relied heavily on an agonotological approach-that of a willing ignorance to conditions in the camp, and "turning a blind eye". Adapting from Proctor and Schiebinger's (2008) work on agnotology, this deliberate ignoring of a glaring humanitarian problem can be read as an agnopolitical expression of power: intentionally maintaining ignorance of a situation for political ends. State authorities are thus mobilized into inaction, or to a calculatedly limited form of involvement. As the following section will reveal, denial of sanitation is only one of a number of multi-scalar threats that the residents of the makeshift camp endured.
Following Mountz and Loyd's (2014) call to shift the scale of enquiry from the legal level towards the bodily experience of migratory violence, it is important to highlight how migrants in Calais literally embodied the destitution of the camp, with many suffering hunger, injury, infestation and infection. Of the most calculated and necropolitical (in)actions of the French state, the decision to withhold sufficient food hand-outs to refugee residents stands out as particularly crude. The limited provision of one meal a day was distributed via a third-sector organization and was deliberately insufficient to keep refugees without any reliable source of food. In July 2015 when the research took place, it was estimated by NGOs in the camp that even these meals would only be provided for 1500 people out of the 3000 in the camp. Meal boxes were often being stored unsafely by refugees so that the meagre ration could be stretched out over several days. In this way, the findings precisely recall Galtung's notion of structural and physiological violence through the denial of food (Galtung 1969:174). The scenario also recalls Mbembe's (2003:21) description of subjects being kept in a state of permanent injury and pain. In Calais this is reflected in the pain of permanent hunger which participants consistently articulated during interviews.
Medical professionals attest that lack of safe and sufficient food has the potential to exacerbate the many viral, bacterial, and psychological illnesses experienced by refugee residents. In the Calais camp, Doctors of the World were able to provide immediate basic medical treatment to as many residents as possible, yet in interviews several volunteers repeated being overwhelmed with frustration in not being able to treat the most basic of parasitic blights which spread easily in the overcrowded camp. The cramped sleeping conditions, as well as the lack of facilities to wash and dry clothes and bedding, meant that scabies reached epidemic proportions. Health workers estimate that one in five people in the camp suffered from this demoralizing infestation (Hargreaves 2016:27), which causes incessant itchiness and discomfort-especially at night-and in normal circumstances would have been very easy to treat. The invisible and preventable nature of this parasitic outbreak allows it to be framed as a form of structural violence that added to the misery of everyday life in the makeshift camp (Galtung 1969). Frustrated with the lack of basic health care and facilities in the "new jungle", many refugees discussed their discomfort. For example, one Sudanese resident explained how: "The situation in the Jungle is too bad. Because here there is no medicine, there is no good health, you know? If you want to cook food you have to use this …" (see Figure 4).
The violence that refugees are exposed to in the camp has impacts across different scales, including at the microbiological level, thus highlighting what Farmer (1996:5) calls the "pathogenic roles of social inequalities". Interviews with residents of the camp and with NGO health workers indicated many cases of vomiting and diarrhoea. In every group interview with residents of the 11 selected sub-camps (including Figure 4), interviewees indicated that one or more members of their group were suffering from gastrointestinal illnesses. Analysis of swabs taken from various locations in the "new jungle" supported this finding, with laboratory tests indicating high levels of harmful bacteria. Alarmingly, our research found that one of the water points was contaminated with E. coli and coliforms, indicating the presence of faecal matter (Dhesi et al. 2015). Thus, the abandonment in Calais had a microbiological component (see Loyd 2009), and the subsequent invisible injuries that residents of the camp were subjected to form part of a multi-scalar abandonment that submits "large numbers of people to lead short and limited lives" (Li 2010:3). The unseen nature and gradual consequences of these easily preventable conditions also recalls "slow violence" (Nixon 2011), where-just like the consequences of climate change-suffering may be delayed and hard to articulate. Furthermore, the lack of safe drinking water directly recalls Galtung's (1969:174) analysis in which the denial of water is framed as a form of structural violence. The architectural morphology of the camp was in a constant state of flux, with new refugees arriving daily and the regular construction of improvised shelters to escape the elements. Accommodation for the thousands of destitute residents consisted largely of ramshackle shelters made from scrap wood, branches and plastic sheeting as well as donated tents (see Figures 5 and 6). This too resulted in a slow violence on the refugee body: interviewees with breathing difficulties reported their conditions worsening over time by damp and cold conditions, whilst all residents interviewed reported being extremely cold, especially during the night. This permanent wounding of refugees would not be as grievous if it was for a short period, but some residents had been exposed to such conditions for up to a year, articulating how they felt "trapped". As security around the port town increased in the summer of 2015, the possibility of reaching the UK was reduced and the camp was increasingly seen as a temporary home, with refugees having built makeshift educational, community and religious spaces. Despite the agency of some residents and volunteers to construct such infrastructure, the ability to resist the necropolitical violence of the camp was limited. Residents of the "new jungle" could regularly be seen physically injured, limping and bandaged-with a queue of refugees lining up on most mornings to be examined by medical professionals from Doctors of the World. These injuries were usually a result of attempted nocturnal border crossings. The increasingly deadly assemblage of securitization around Calais took 16 lives between June and October 2015 (BBC News 2015); many killed attempting to board trains during the night, with others drowning in the English Channel or suffocating in refrigerated lorries. However, others perished in the camp itself, both through illness and direct violence. NGO medics stated that 15 people died within the camp between June and September 2015 alone, despite the population being overwhelmingly young (Hurley 2016). The potentiality of death was an ever-present reality in the camp, with refugees being-as Foucault suggests-"rejected into death" (rejeter dans la mort) as part of an active process of violent abandonment (Foucault 1976, cited in Fassin 2009). Yet the direct violence was also accompanied by the untreated infections, widespread chest illnesses, constant hunger, cold conditions, physical injury and psychological trauma. These are all symptoms of political and structural processes that add up to the creation of what Mbembe (2003:40) referred to as a "death-world". The Calais residents represent disposable subjects, kept alive whilst injured through extreme marginalization, in a morbid spectacle that puts their lives in severe jeopardy. Their suffering closely resembles the form of structural violence that sees ostracized and precarious groups of people existing far below their potential (Galtung 1969). The violence may be interpreted as indirect but is in no way abstract; instead it was so recognizable to the residents of the camp, that refugees themselves regularly compared the experience of living in the Calais camp to violent abuses and traumas suffered in origin countries, or to their brutal journeys into Europe. As one Afghan participant articulated: "A quick bullet through the head in Afghanistan would be better than this slow death here".

Conclusion
This paper has demonstrated how the abandonment of refugees in Europe has led directly to thousands being subjected to forms of violence that are ultimately structural. The violence is first operationalized through active biopolitical mechanisms of documentation and registration, which can begin at the very point that they enter the EU's Schengen Zone. With provision withheld and legal inclusion often only nominal, some refugees are coerced through EU states to live informally. The structural violence for those in this study reached its apogee in the squalor of the Calais camp, producing stark suffering of refugee bodies and the potential for a "slow death". In this way, the state's biopolitical activities have given way to calculated necropolitical inactions.
Central to the argument of this paper is that the empirical findings can be conceptualized by a dialectic unity between the "bio" and "necro"-between action and inaction. The active involvement of the state in the bureaucratic biometric border processes can be contrasted to the evident absence of the state in the EU's abandoned refugee spaces. Necropower can in fact be demonstrated in countries such as Italy where empirical evidence from this study shows how denial of provision can be used to coerce migrants to onward mobility. However, it is in places such as Calais, as well as other knowingly neglected spaces within Europe's "constellation of camps" (Davies and Isakjee 2015:93), that necropolitical inactions manifest into a brutal reality.
As our empirics starkly testify, the squalor and permanent wounding of the Calais camp can be likened to Mbembe's (2003:40) "death-worlds", where the conditions therein, as well as the political inactions of the state, assign its inhabitants the status of the "living dead" (2003:40); not actively killed-as would befit a "bare life" reading-but destined to suffer the harm and indignity of long-term cruel conditions. The brutality that men, women and children suffer in such places becomes a "socially sanctioned dehumanisation" (Castro 2015:248); a normalization of suffering where a "hands off" state response can in fact have deliberate and violent consequences. The agnopolitical way in which the plight of refugees is deliberately overlooked by state agencies is intended to constrain and disrupt onward migrations, perhaps ultimately coercing migrants "back along their pathways of expulsion" (Rygiel 2011:5). In this way, the deadly decision to stop rescuing refugees out at sea-as witnessed in 2014 when the Mare Nostrum rescue missions were halted (Stierl 2016)-can be put on a continuum of violent inaction in which the squalid conditions of the Calais camp form an inherent part.
As the violent ramifications of the EU's border work continues to be offshored, outsourced, and externalized beyond its traditional violent borders (Brachet 2015;Jones 2016;Vaughn-Williams 2015:11), it is all the more important to also look inside EU sovereign space to examine stealthier forms of structural violence that are hidden in plain view. More often than not this internal brutality is concealed behind a veil of inaction, and the withholding of the means of life. This paper has demonstrated how inactivity-as well as political actions-can be wielded as a means of control, coercion and power. By being attentive to what states choose not to do, as well as their active counterparts, may provide new openings to examine instances of oppression and structural violence. In line with McIntyre and Nast (2011), we have shown in this paper how biopolitical activity has worked hand in glove with necropolitical abandonment in the (mis)management of refugees in Europe. Action and inaction can be used in political unison as a means of control.