French demolition crews recently began dismantling the so-called "jungle" at Calais, a squalid home to more than 7,000 migrants and a symbol of Europe's often confused response to an influx of people fleeing war and poverty in the Middle East and beyond.

Inhabitants of the makeshift camp are being relocated around France but the overall problem of how to cope with the immigrant and refugee crisis will not end there.

European nations set great store by their past record of welcoming those escaping violence and repression in their own countries. But sympathy has been wearing thin in recent years, with populist right-wing parties stoking fears that incomers from the Muslim world might pose a security threat.

That is set alongside other familiar arguments: "We don't have room. They'll take our jobs. They're only coming so they can claim social benefits."

This inward-looking and defensive response to the migrant crisis, which seemed at its most challenging a year ago as boatloads of people washed up on the shores of Greece, was an acknowledged factor for at least some British voters who opted to quit the European Union in June's referendum.

The irony there is that, while Britain is obliged to allow automatic access to citizens of its fellow EU states, it is free to bar the door to others. Although there is passport-free movement within Europe's 26-member Schengen Zone, Britain is not a member. The UK border effectively begins at Calais.

That is why refugees and economic migrants from Syria, Iraq, Somalia and beyond have gathered there to make their way to Britain, either legally or by smuggling themselves aboard UK-bound trucks.

Many favor Britain as a destination because they speak English, already have family there or just think it will be easier to find a job.

Although populist politicians may have raised the specter of hordes of Middle East migrants flooding into Britain, the reality is that very few of those fleeing war in the region have got through. Those from Syria number in the hundreds, although there is a plan to accept 20,000 by 2020.

The government only reluctantly agreed to allow in vulnerable, unaccompanied children when a campaign led by Alf Dubs, a Labour member of the House of Lords, forced a U-turn.

Lord Dubs is one of the countless refugees who are acknowledged as having enriched their adopted country. He arrived in Britain in 1939 as a six-year-old refugee from Nazi Germany, part of the so-called Kindertransport operation organized by volunteers to rescue Jewish children.

In the postwar era, Britain also welcomed refugees from the Hungarian uprising of 1956, a time when the country was much less prosperous than now. Schoolchildren were urged to collect clothes and toys for the newcomers.

In the 1970s, Britain also took in more than 25,000 Asians expelled from Idi Amin's Uganda. Arriving penniless, many established themselves as among the country's most successful businesspeople.

The European tradition of taking in exiles dates back centuries. It includes Protestants fleeing to England to escape religious persecution in France in the 17th century and Polish political exiles fleeing to France and elsewhere in the 19th.

The phenomenon is not uniquely European, of course. The United States is a country created by immigrants, although the current presidential election campaign has exposed a strain of intolerance against outsiders. Few Syrian exiles from the current war have made it there.

China took in 300,000 Vietnamese, predominantly ethnic Chinese, during and after the brief 1979 border war that followed Vietnam's invasion of Cambodia. A decade ago, during a visit to China, Antonio Guterres, the UN official responsible for refugees and the next secretary-general of the world body, described the transfer as "one of the most successful integration programs in the world".

The challenge for European states is that an open door to those fleeing violence and oppression has been part of their liberal perception of themselves. Building hostility to refugees risks tarnishing that image.

The writer is a senior editorial consultant for China Daily UK.