Immigration: What if it were you?

Immigration:  What if it were you?

The current refugee crisis in the Middle East and by extension, Europe, is troubling on so many levels. When coupled with the disturbing anti-immigration rhetoric in the U.S., it causes me to think about this: If you thought it could be you, would you be kinder? 

We in the west have become so accustomed to peace, stability, and the rule of law.  I sometimes think we’re victims of our own comfort to the point where we can’t even begin to relate to the risks of an unstable and unjust world.  We worry about having enough money to afford our next vacation, college tuition, or that long-anticipated kitchen renovation.  We don’t think about whether or not we’ll be able to provide basic food, clothing, or shelter.  We worry about sexual assaults on campuses and in bars, but when we lay down in our beds to sleep, we don’t worry about whether we’ll survive the night.  When our children travel, we worry about whether they’re wearing their seat belts.  We don’t worry about whether they’re being packed in an airless shipping container, or upended in a small boat in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.  Our problems are first world problems.  And if you’re not living the nightmare of forced migration, it’s tough to relate.

But only a couple of generations ago, more than 60 million refugees were crisscrossing Western Europe desperately looking for food and shelter and trying to escape the violence wrought by a world war.   Here in the United States, during the American civil war, there were more than 200,000 refugees in my home state of Virginia alone.  During the great depression, more than 2.5 million economic refugees were forced to flee the plains states of the mid-west.   History teaches us that no place is safe forever.  It can happen here.

Why then are we so unsympathetic?  Why are we so eager to espouse the hard line?  Yes, there are myriad good reasons to ensure that the laws governing migration are strictly enforced, but how about compassionate enforcement as well?  Take Syria, for example (please).  During the past year, I’ve had the privilege of working with Syrian civil society leaders that are desperately attempting to maintain some semblance of governance in areas the Assad regime no longer controls.  As varying militias and armed factions move in and out of their home cities, these brave, talented, committed individuals and groups have done everything in their power to protect and preserve if not their way of life, at least the ability to restore it once peace is (finally) achieved.  And what has been our national response?  Mostly to try to train and equip various under-vetted armed factions and power brokers that we hope will support our political agenda when the fighting is over.  Meanwhile, the ability of those who want to stay and stabilize has degenerated precipitously.    Working with them from a Turkish safe haven, I couldn’t help but think, “but for the grace of God, this could be me.”  So as little regard as I had for current western policy toward the Middle East, it was still a personal call to action.

So what can you do?  A lot.  Contribute to organizations like Physicians for Peace, Doctors Without Borders, the International Organization for Migration, and others who are striving to provide basic humanitarian services, advocacy, and protection.  Pressure politicians for more coherent, fair, and humane paths to citizenship within the rule of law.  Support local law enforcement efforts to combat human trafficking and protect under-served migrant and homeless populations.  Ensure that the immigrants who clean your house, work in your yard, and renovate your home actually receive the minimum wage.  Volunteer your time; contribute your tithe; sponsor a family; raise your voice to those who can do something about it.  

If you really thought it could be you, would you care more?  I hope so, because it can be you. We live in a privileged world today, but it’s a fragile one.  Tomorrow it could be any one of us.  Think about that, and act accordingly.