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Refugees in Transit, Part II
Art Credit: Doreen Lam
A few weeks ago I traveled all the way to JFK just to get a glimpse of Saida and Hassan’s first few minutes in America. I had met their brother Hussein at a symposium on Middle East peace in the summer of 2005, one year before he was murdered by insurgents in Iraq for working with the Americans. Saida and Hassan became refugees at nearly the same time, and now, a year and a half later, they were finally on their way to America.
I had no idea what I would actually say or do once I met them. Mostly I pondered how it was possible that it took the U.S. a year to get them out of Iraq, where they were targeted for working with American NGOs, and into Jordan, where they waited six months to get refugee status and begin the journey to the United States. I wondered how the process could be ameliorated, and if not, how the effects of the displacement could at least be mitigated.
After four long hours of waiting at the airport, we got a call that the International Organization for Migration (IOM) had ushered Saida and Hassan through with many other refugees. Hussein’s sister and brother were already on a bus to LaGuardia to begin the next leg of their journey, the short flight to Washington D.C., where they would be resettled.
On the way back to Manhattan, moping on our subway seats, our gifts of maple syrup, apples and a miniature statue of liberty dejected in our bags, I couldn’t help but be moved by the larger picture. Our numerous transportation delays were inconsequential setbacks compared to how long this family waited in fear to come to this country. I made it home in the crisp fall night, wondering what Hussein’s brother and sister thought of their first American autumn air, if they knew that it was unusually warm for October, if they felt their new freedom as viscerally as Hussein, who had often described to me the odor and taste of his liberty after Saddam Hussein was removed from power.
It could have been any number of Iraqi refugees who I saw coming out of immigration that evening at the airport, smiling widely and embracing one another after emerging from the ordeal of their first American fingerprinting and likely a difficult interrogation. What matters, however, is the impact that Hussein had on the lives of the many Americans who took it upon themselves to push for Saida’s and Hassan’s safe passage to this country. The tragedy of Iraq’s loss—and ultimately the world’s loss—of someone like Hussein is, at the very least, made more bearable by witnessing those smiles.
But the journey ahead in America will be difficult. Hassan and Saida have been given just enough money to survive here—an apartment with paid rent for a few months and some cash for the next four months until they get on their feet. Then they will be totally on their own. They will eventually have to pay back the cost of their flight from Jordan. And though my colleagues from the symposium have been working to set up a network for Saida and Hassan and to help them search for jobs in the D.C. area, the ultimate determinant of their success in this country will be based on their ability to integrate into an entirely foreign society with little social or cultural help.
According to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, nearly 5 million Iraqis have been displaced within and beyond Iraq since the war commenced in 2003. There are 1.2 million refugees residing in Syria and 750,000 remain in Jordan, with smaller populations in Egypt, Iran, Lebanon, Turkey, and other Gulf countries.
State Department statistics show that only 450 Iraqi refugees were admitted into the U.S. over the month of October, nowhere near on pace to reach its target of resettling 12,000 over the next fiscal year. Admittedly, 450 is an improvement from the last fiscal year in which 1,608 refugees were admitted. But it is not enough.
The military has said that 69,000 (other sources estimate as many as 100,000) Iraqis have been employed via contract with the Department of Defense through Iraqi and foreign companies. Action must be taken most urgently for those Iraqis, such as Hassan and Saida, who were employed by or working closely with Americans. Of the more than 9,000 Iraqis submitted by the U.N. to the U.S. for consideration last year, however, only about 5 percent worked for the American war effort.
Although the United States has verbally committed to take in those Iraqis who are in danger because of working for the American government, military, or contractors, the U.S. does not currently have the legal infrastructure to process people in Baghdad directly, and many Iraqis are unwilling to risk the perilous trek abroad in order to apply. Once displaced, Iraqis must go abroad to Syria or Jordan before they are even eligible to apply for refugee status (according to the U.N. definition) and subsequent asylum in America.
The Iraqi refugee crisis constitutes the greatest displacement of people in the Middle East since 1948 and poses a security issue for United States interests in the region. The longer displaced Iraqis are shut out of the societies into which they are trying to assimilate, the more the spillover effects of the war threaten to damage our relationships with Middle Eastern countries we now consider allies, such as Jordan. Most importantly, Iraqis who have helped the coalition should be a priority because people who are willing to be American allies in the Middle East must know that they will be protected if they work with us—otherwise they’ll stop doing so.
However, their “priority status” does not guarantee anything. It took six months for Saida and Hassan, but others have to wait much longer for their refugee status to come to fruition, during which time the displaced populations have no opportunity to integrate into the local culture and economy. These populations have little savings to spend in Jordan and Syria while they wait for processing. Some may even run out of money and have to return home to certain death in Iraq.
The Iraqi Refugee Crisis is the one area of Iraq war policy in which mainstream Americans, and students in particular, can facilitate tangible results by getting involved. My friends and colleagues came together to raise money for refugees, advocate for their plight to the government and work on behalf of two specific individuals we knew. If you would like to get involved with these issues, these are several key ways to get involved—participate in group or individual political advocacy, adopt a refugee family, or donate money.
In terms of political advocacy, Congress can take one concrete step by committing to a bill to expedite the process. The Senate has already formulated and passed such a bill, The Refugee Crisis in Iraq Act (S.R. 2872), under the leadership of Senator Kennedy. The bill authorizes 5,000 special immigrant visas for five years for those Iraqis threatened because of their work with the United States government. The bill also requires that the Secretary of State establish a refugee processing program in Iraq and the wider region. Iraqis would be able to apply for refugee status from within Iraq, rather than through the U.N. system outside of the country. This amendment would provide refugee benefits to Iraqis fleeing persecution from insurgents due to their work for the United States. This sort of program was recommended to the Bush administration by Ambassador Ryan Crocker, and this amendment would provide a path to safety for targeted Iraqis whose loyalty to the United States has placed them at risk.
Unfortunately, while the Senate bill tackles one crucial aspect of the refugee crisis, the legislation does not seem to be moving because the House has yet to pass its Responsibility to Iraqi Refugees Act of 2007 (H.R. 2265). Call your local congressperson and encourage them to sign on and cosponsor house legislation.
While the issue is stalled at the political level, much can be accomplished at the university level. Students should set up an organization dedicated to raising money for impoverished Iraqi allies being resettled in the U.S., or simply raising awareness on campus and disseminating facts through an organization such as a “Columbia Students for Iraqi Refugees” club.
Students can also work to develop support networks to help Iraqis once they come to this country, connect with already-established organizations, and give information to their own families and personal contacts on the issue. A group of people from my symposium got involved with Kirk Johnson’s List Project, doing things like blogging, researching, and setting up a network so that our friends would not be on their own when they came to the United States.
Most importantly, up-to-date information is available all the time on organization’s Web sites. Students can develop networks to help Iraqis by contacting organizations such as The List Project to Resettle Iraqi Allies, the International Rescue Committee, and the Refugee Council.

















If only more American kids and their parents felt the appreciation that you and yours and many other immigrants do for the opportunities to attain a good life in this country. Sadly, it is not so. Americans want instant gratification and are not willing to make hard sacrifices towards an end product.
I remember when I came to this country as a refugee, straight from the refugee camp in Bosnia. My entire family including myself went through the cultural shock of living in the states and trying to find ourselves in the new society with people we had very little in common.
Many people do not realize what is like to leave your country and try to re-start your life from the beginning. It is very hard for all of us, especially for the older generations like my parents. Do not confuse vocation to Europe as same us loosing home and having to settle in another country with essentially no knowledge of the language, culture etc.
In any case it is a long process for all refugees. I can say this because 15 years has passed since I landed on JFK and even tough I have been assimilated and reintegrated into American society, being a refugee and loosing your identity with your homeland takes an enormous toll on people.
On the lighter note, younger generation such as myself are given boundless opportunities in the US and today I can proudly say that I am a living proof that person can go from war torn country and refugee camps to studying at prestigious academic institution such as Columbia, but not without sacrifices of older generations such as my parents who knowingly accepted the fact that life in the US will not be easy for them, came anyway to give opportunity to their children that otherwise they would not get. I think that is the greatest sacrifice parent can make for their children as is the case in the article above as well as many refugees across the globe that come to US, including my family.
Goran -
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