**2. Two-Folding '3D'—Unwanted and 'Essentially' Wanted Immigrants Vis-à-Vis Governmental Xenophobia**

The problem of segregating migrants into wanted and unwanted, better and worse, has long featured in the literature (Aas 2011; Kmak 2015). The extremely unwanted group is represented by asylum seekers. It is against them that governments try to apply deterrence processes (Hamlin 2012; Gilbert 2009) using practices referred to as '3D': desertion, detention, and deportation (Kalir 2020), i.e., implementing the policy of deportability and detainability (De Genova 2019). All these activities constitute what could be described as governmental xenophobia (Valluy 2011, pp. 116–17), because they are based on the prejudices and resentment of people in power towards 'Others' (an approach of this manner bears all the hallmarks of pure racism, even though Valluy himself does not use this term), and their goal is stigmatisation and labelling of migrants—both as a whole and those belonging to specific groups (such as asylum seekers)—as problematic and threatening. As a result, governments introduce public policies and regulations whose task is to not allow migrants in, to expel them or make their stay unpleasant by creating a hostile environment for them (Kalir 2019).

During the pandemic it transpired, however, that some migrants are indispensable to the countries of the Global North, hence the borders for them must remain open. Much was said then about essential workers—in the case of migrants, they were people who primarily looked after dependent people, especially the elderly (Nowicka et al. 2021), or agricultural workers—because someone had to plant and then harvest the crops. This is the second group of '3D' migrants, i.e., those who performed dirty, dangerous, and demanding work (Ambrosini 2013, p. 184). Not only were borders opened for these workers, but some countries even organised transports to bring them over (Bejan 2020; Parmet 2020). Most often, however, they were not provided with appropriate COVID-secure conditions and treated differently in relation to the citizens of the host country.

What is happening is the separation of two types of subjects: those who deserve protection and those who do not. The deserving are the German subjects, whose

lives and health are valued and should be protected from the foreign, potentially infected intruders; the undeserving are the Romanian seasonal workers, the disposable subjects, those whose work matters more than their health, and whose health becomes vital only in relation to the domestic population, that is, only in terms of not contaminating them. (Bejan 2020, p. 2)

In addition, the arrival of this group of migrants was treated as temporary in nature and for work purposes only, so their rights were additionally limited, e.g., by preventing the arrival of migrants' family members or by introducing restrictions on access to healthcare, including also assistance in the case of COVID-19 infection or vaccination against it (Parmet 2020, p. 242).

In the case of both types of migrants described above, one can speak of the xenophobia of the people governing the country. It is blatantly obvious with regards to asylum seekers: the xenophobia is expressed directly in the statements of the governing bodies and their actions. However, even when it comes to migrant workers, we see the process of their differentiation from citizens, resulting from the perception that whites are superior to non-whites, and proving that some postcolonial white supremacy still exists (Kalir 2019). In the case of people from different parts of Europe (the richer West and the poorer East) we can talk about different shades of whiteness, where two identities overlap—nationality and ethnicity, i.e., being an immigrant and a stranger (Fox et al. 2012), and class, i.e., being poor (Webster 2008). In the case of Germany, it will be a distinction between Germans and Romanians or Poles; in Poland—between Poles and Ukrainians.

Polish xenophobia has its roots in centuries-old antisemitism (Bilewicz et al. 2012) and the legacy of the communist regime. Not only did communism render Poland a nationally and ethnically homogeneous state, but it also combined it with a homogenic and nationalist ideology, which strengthened the society's suspicion of others, including foreigners, and even made some groups national enemies (Libman and Obydenkova 2020; Burjanek 2001; Zarycki 2008). All this is combined with the process of Poles abandoning European values, set in motion in 2015, known as de-Europeanisation, which includes departure from tolerance (Vermeersch 2019).

Moreover, it is important to consider the specific Polish attitude towards its eastern neighbours—Ukraine and Belarus, which can easily be called postcolonial. Centuries ago, these societies formed one state organism. In it, Poles played a dominant role—the role of 'civilisers', who looked down on the inhabitants of the areas in the east. To this day, many politicians believe them to be a Polish zone of political influence (Zarycki 2008), hence the grea<sup>t</sup> involvement of Polish politicians of all parties in the democratic transformations taking place in Ukraine (including Maidan in 2014) or in supporting Belarusians protesting against the regime of Lukashenko in 2020. Still, the air of superiority towards eastern neighbours and their inhabitants is never absent, driven by matters of culture and identity. This deeply rooted perception of neighbours located further to the East as more backward is common to many societies of central and eastern Europe, and its aim is to present oneself (also to oneself) as better and Europe-worthy. To belong to the 'West' is to belong to civilisation (Melegh 2006, pp. 115–16). At the same time, this 'superiority' has an economic and class background, resulting from the stereotypical perception of Ukrainians mainly through the prism of their economic migration, poverty, backwardness, or poor economic development of the country, etc. Belarusians are probably perceived in a similar way, but there is no detailed research here (and besides, Poles tend to treat all eastern neighbours as one, and do not distinguish Belarusians from Ukrainians and Russians) (Koval et al. 2021). On the other hand, migrants from these countries are generally accepted by the Polish society as similar and familiar. The authorities perceive them in a similar way—as people from a similar culture and therefore more wanted (if migrants must come to Poland at all) than those from more distant countries and a different ethnic or religious background (Klaus 2020a).
