Amman, Jordan
October 6, 2008
Dear friends,
I wasn’t prepared for the extent of impoverishment I would see in Syria. Arriving by bus just a few hours after a suicide car bomb took the lives of at least 17 civilians in Damascus, I learned about the attack from the taxi driver who took me from the bus stop to the neighborhood where I was to meet my translator. Although I understood the Arabic word for “explosion,” it was only later that I would get more details.
This visit was somehow different from my other trips to Syria. Maybe it is that I feel more comfortable and at home in the Middle East. But more likely it was due to the invaluable help and friendship of an Iraqi man, a “refugee” himself, who acted not only as my guide and translator, but who allowed me to see Syria through his eyes, the eyes of an Iraqi. I will call this friend Mohammed.
Coming from the United States as I do, I did not expect a welcome mat. Just over a year had passed since I was last in Syria, but this time the disdain I felt towards me on the part of ordinary people on the street could no longer be disguised or misinterpreted. My frequent requests for directions for example were often met with abruptness or stony silence. Should this come as a surprise? How could it be any different? A suicide bomb exploding in one’s city can only drive fear and terror into hearts and minds, causing each to question: Who brought on this ever-expanding “War against Terrorism?” It was a comfort for me to be at Mohammed’s side a great deal of the time. As an Iraqi trying to survive in Syria, he is himself accustomed to the cold shoulder and to being suspect. We made an odd pair, of that I am sure.
Like countless others Mohammed lives from hand to mouth not sure where he will come up with rent and food money, not to mention money to renew Syrian visas, or for water, electricity, transportation, cooking gas and necessary phone cards and internet—the latter his contact with family and the outside world. Alone in Syria, cut off from family, more than once Mohammed expressed uneasiness about the “walls having ears.” Not that he has anything to hide. On the contrary Mohammed is one of those rare individuals one chances upon only a few times in a lifetime, a person I would describe as “without guile.” Apart from loneliness, not being able to work and earn a livelihood is perhaps one of the greatest hardships he faces.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs estimates there are 1.2 million Iraqi residents in Syria with current valid visas. To date approximately 220,000 Iraqi refugees have been registered by the UNHCR In addition to numerous visits with Iraqi individuals and families in their apartments, I was very fortunate to meet on two occasions with representatives from the UNHCR, including someone from their Resettlement program. The UNHCR is fortunate as well to have such capable and caring people on their staff. Both times I was warmly received and given ample time to hear about their programs as well as present my own concerns on the basis of concrete cases.
I had many questions. What about families/individuals facing imminent return to Iraq because their money has run out? What about families/individuals with dire medical and psychological needs, where suicide has been attempted for example? I wanted to know how resettlement cases are being selected given the enormous numbers of refugees in Syria? What about Iraqis who have been in Syria for some years now and feel they are being overlooked and forgotten. They see Iraqis more recently arrived, often with fabricated stories and false documents, being moved on and resettled. Is the increasing destitution of Iraqis in Syria before 2006 being factored into the criteria for selecting cases? Is not being able—ever—to return to Iraq a contributing factor? Does having family in other countries act to someone’s advantage with respect to resettlement?
While the UNHCR’s labors in both Jordan and Syria over the last two years cannot be minimized and are praiseworthy to say the least, it must be acknowledged that the basic needs of the vast number of Iraqi refugees in both countries remain unmet. In both Jordan and Syria it has been left to the UNHCR to get resettlement programs up and running—not to mention the overwhelming task of just registering Iraqis who come to them seeking protection and assistance. The UNHCR remains resolute on their position that it is not safe to return to Iraq.
A critical question for Voices for Creative Nonviolence is how Iraqis can obtain cash assistance to cover their basic needs. How can the exorbitant amounts of U.S. funding going to military spending be diverted to refugee assistance? Even if adequate monies could be diverted, there would first be the issue of identifying people in need, and secondly the task of finding adequate delivery mechanisms to distribute the money. Both tasks are equally daunting in the face of the staggering numbers of refugees.
What I can tell you is the following. Within the next seven month period, the UNHCR in Syria hopes to submit 11,000 cases for resettlement to other countries. The goal for Jordan will be 6,000 for the same time frame. As in Jordan, the selection process for the UNHCR staff in Syria is very labor intensive and time consuming. Each “case” is reviewed and multiple interviews with the candidates are carried out. The cases are selected on the basis of vulnerability, after which resettlement countries willing to take Iraqis must be found. Whether a refugee has family living in one of the resettlement countries enters into the equation only AFTER they have been selected for resettlement. This might sound confusing, but it is vital to understand this point. Perhaps a concrete situation can best illustrate this dilemma. The following account should be seen as just one little boat among countless others, trying to stay afloat in a turbulent ocean of misfortune.
Upon my arrival in Damascus, I telephoned an Iraqi family in Aleppo, in the north of Syria, to put a question to them. I was to meet with someone from the UNHCR before I would have the opportunity to meet the family, and thought that maybe I could speak of their situation with the representative. This couple, together with their two small children and the husband’s sister, were able to escape the death threats and violence of their country. Denied entrance to Jordan, they made their way to Syria in December of 2006. The wife has brothers in the states, and the husband has a brother in Canada. It is through the wife’s 75 year old father here in Amman, waiting to join his sons in the U.S., that I came to learn of this family. Wanting to know what the thoughts and wishes of the family were, I asked the wife over the telephone “Do you want to go to Canada or to the U.S.?” The mother’s voice broke as she answered “We will go anywhere where we can be safe.” A telling response, as wishes no longer factor in.
A few days later I traveled to Aleppo, a 4-5 hour trip, and met the family. I learned that the family had to flee because of the father’s work with a USAID/Iraq Company in Baghdad. He was told that he would be killed if he didn’t cease his work with USAID. One fateful day as Iraqi soldiers were arresting people on the street outside their home, the family burned any documents that would implicate the father’s association with Americans. The mother spoke of her terror and how she miscarried when she was unable to locate her husband. I was struck by the flat affect of their older daughter who is eight years old. I learned that her school was bombed while she was in class. As an “intact” family, meaning they do not fall into the same category as lets say a widow with children or a single woman for example, this family would factor in low on the totem pole for resettlement. This is despite the fact that they have family in both the U.S. and Canada desperate to receive them and grant them a safe harbor. If you do the math, over two million refugees in Iraq’s surrounding countries, and 17,000 possible resettlement slots in the upcoming months, it will cause your hearts to sink. It is at best a dismal forecast.
