Ferried out of their countries of origin by turmoil and thrown at the tender mercies of oft-reluctant host states, refugees have always had a rough time. Now, additional US security checks are complicating matters, writes Negar Azimi Click to view caption James has been making his way to Zamalek every week for the past seven months. His refugee claim was accepted by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) in the summer of 2001, while he was told it would be a matter of months before he would be reunited with his younger brother and sister in the US after final processing by US immigration officers. It was about time, after all, for James had lived a hand- to-mouth existence in Cairo for the last five years -- this after having literally run for his life amidst the civil war that ravaged his native Liberia. Nevertheless, the instructions from the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) did not arrive in August as promised. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks on America, delay was extended and re-extended. August became December and December became March. James was not seen for his processing interviews at the International Organization for Migration (IOM) offices until June of this year, precisely one year after this final stage in the process had begun. Now that he has long fulfilled all requirements, he is told by the receptionist at the IOM that his application continues to be under review. Come back in two weeks, she said. Be patient. At the IOM offices in Zamalek, there are countless others like James who scrutinise the listings boards in religious fashion, hoping that their name will be added to a list of those who have passed security and medical clearances -- and by extension, are ready to leave Cairo once and for all. For these refugees, resettlement represents the final step in an arduous process that can take years and that begins in earnest with the filing of an application for refugee status at the UNHCR. Indeed, for refugees in a wholly unfamiliar country, with practically no access to services, delays may translate to the perpetuation of the most uncomfortable of existences. According to Veronica Coulter, durable solutions officer at UNHCR in Cairo, today there are just over 1,000 refugees who are awaiting departure to the US. Most are stuck at some point in the clearance process. "Some were selected for resettlement in 2001 and are still waiting," she told Al-Ahram Weekly. Ismail is one of those. He gained refugee status from the UNHCR last October as his activity as a political cartoonist in his native Sudan had placed him at undeniable risk were he to return home. Ismail felt unsafe in Cairo, too, knowing very well that those who had detained and tortured him in Khartoum were capable of finding him here in Egypt. This he knew because his older brother, a journalist, had been brutally attacked only months ago in a Cairo suburb because, Ismail suspects, of vendettas linked to his past. His brother subsequently disappeared, presumably either killed or deported. Complicating matters for Ismail, his health is precarious at best, for a glass factory explosion has left him with no vision in his left eye. Chronic stress has also caused him memory loss and a persistent insomnia. An opportunity to get resettled in the US could at least facilitate access to medical care beyond the hand-me-down painkillers he receives from a Congolese acquaintance. Nevertheless, one year later, Ismail is still here. Although he continues to be told that his departure is imminent, he seems to have lost all hope. "And now that the US may go to war with Iraq, they really will not want one more Muslim man," he said, pondering future uncertainties. Ismail remains convinced that his demographic background might stop him from leaving Egypt in the end. In the meantime, he keeps a low profile, often lying in bed for hours on end, paralysed with the fear that he may meet the same fate as his brother. Like most routes of entry, the United States refugee resettlement programme came to a screeching halt last fall under the banner of the need for security review. For countless refugees from Islamabad to Freetown, the stop signalled the perpetuation of an oft- precarious limbo in countries of first asylum. Among the vulnerable were more than 700 Afghan women in Pakistan deemed "at risk" by UNHCR because of exposure to rampant sexual abuse and ensuing psychological trauma. These women were destined for resettlement in the US on 11 September 2001, but were sent right back to Pakistan while en route. Though the moratorium on resettlement came to an end in mid-November via presidential decree (under the worthy banner of "humanitarian concern"), a new and purportedly improved system has slowed down the process considerably. Cairo, with its own bloated urban refugee population, has proved no exception to this rule, as delays in the resettlement process have extended waits interminably, within an already over-stretched system. Each week, upwards of 3,500 Sudanese alone arrive in Cairo, a tribute to one of the longest running civil wars in the world. Most take the ferry from Wadi Halfa and then a train to Cairo, ending up disoriented en masse at Ramses Station. This figure does not even take into account the numbers from increasingly far-flung locales, ranging from Liberia and Sierra Leone to Yemen. For most of these refugees, resettlement to a third country represents the only viable durable solution, for they are reminded daily of the practical impossibility of life here as non-resident foreigners. Access to schools, for example, is a logistical nightmare; because a resident permit is needed to gain a school permit, the significant majority of refugee children languish without access to education for an interminable period. Access to health care is even trickier, save the limited help afforded via the churches. Obstacles to gaining a work permit mean that most refugees work in informal manner if at all, cleaning homes, exchanging currency on the black market, and too often for women, trading money for sex. Complicating matters, refugees in Egypt face the constant spectre of harassment, arrest or even the occasional deportation -- this despite the fact that most are under the protection mandate of the UNHCR. To many, the notion that the refugee resettlement process may constitute a security threat is somewhat nonsensical. By the time a refugee arrives in the US, he or she has been through myriad interviews (upwards of 5-10), security and medical checks -- the whole lot. The logic of questioning the security of the programme vis-à- vis other routes of entry seems faulty, particularly as the US Embassy continued to issue tourist visas in the aftermath of the attacks. None of the suspects associated with the attacks of 11 September ever sought asylum in the US. "Refugees, more so than visa applicants, are so closely scrutinised and take so long to be processed that any terrorist would be foolish to try to enter the US as a refugee," Mark Hetfield, director of international operations for HIAS, the oldest refugee resettlement agency in the US, told the Weekly. "Very few refugees are getting 'hits' (designating them as security risks) during the security check. And, we understand most, if not all, of these refugees who do get hits are found, upon closer examination, not to pose any security threat to the US." New security measures include enhanced background checks for refugee applicants, verification of claimed relationships in family reunification cases, FBI investigation of selected applicants, as well as fingerprinting of all refugees arriving at US ports of entry. In addition to a name check, some refugees have been subject to what is referred to as a Special Advisory Opinion (SAO). Practically speaking, such cases include men between the ages of 16 and 45 who hail from a hefty list of countries -- all of whom have significant Muslim populations. Particularly notable here, Sudanese applicants in Cairo must face this additional logistic, and are consequently told by the IOM that their cases are "on hold" for the time being. When contacted, the IOM office in Zamalek declined comment. Jackie Mize-Baker, director for refugee processing at the Washington DC-based International Rescue Committee (IRC), told the Weekly that there are a number of refugees who were actually booked for flights before 11 September 2001 and have still not left for the US as they are still waiting for one or both of those security checks. "Refugees have been through the hardest times, but they have made decisions to move on with their lives and resettle in a third country. Many already had a booking to depart, and were literally waiting with their bags packed. Now once again they are caught in limbo, not knowing when they will be able to leave. It must be very difficult for them to continue to have hope," she added. The plight of refugees in Lebanon is particularly poignant. Mass detentions, deportations and incidences of torture are all too common for that country's refugee population. US resettlement delays have thus heightened the distress of those awaiting the resumption of processes. Rafiq Saidi, head of office at UNHCR in Beirut, told the Weekly last spring that, "refugees in Lebanon practically enjoy no rights. Integration is impossible as they cannot work nor have the benefit of residence. Repatriation is not possible, so resettlement is the only option... the problem, when you talk of a delay of months, is a security one... the longer you stay, the more risk you encounter in being arrested and possibly at times deported." The INS has reportedly not paid a visit to Lebanon since 11 September 2001. This means that for at least one year, refugees in Lebanon, primarily Southern Iraqis of Shi'ite orientation, have presumably not been resettled to the US at all. Nevertheless, many familiar with the refugee resettlement system argue that the delays in the programme are systemic rather than immediately linked to new security procedures. Indeed, the system of refugee resettlement was under stress even before the events of 11 September unfolded. In Egypt and most of the world, UNHCR serves as the primary conduit for resettlement referrals. Questions have been raised as to whether the agency should share the burden of both refugee status determination and ensuing resettlement referrals with other civil society entities, namely the NGO community. Permitting NGOs to pre-screen and refer refugees for resettlement, some advocates argue, could bring to the INS's attention a larger pool of individuals who are of potential humanitarian concern. Pilot programmes for NGO collaboration have been initiated in both Pakistan and Ghana. In the meantime, the waiting game for refugees does not seem to be getting any easier. Procedural roadblocks borne of additional security checks, coupled with the last fall's two month pause, have meant that globally, refugee departures for America have slowed down to a mere trickle. In 2002, 27,075 refugees were resettled in the US out of an authorised ceiling of 70,000 -- a twenty-two year law. Because admission's numbers do not roll over into the next fiscal period, the difference between the actual figure of refugees and the authorised ceiling represents lost spaces, lost opportunities to start life anew. And with lesser and lesser refugee departures, the burden on refugee agencies increases. Karim Atassi, UNHCR's senior regional external relations officer for the Middle East and North Africa, explained the hold's immediate effects in Cairo in an interview with the Weekly: "Not only did the stop affect refugees psychologically, but it also put added strain on UNHCR. All of a sudden we had many more people who we had to service here -- with the same pool of money to divide among them." In the meantime, US refugee admission quotas appear to be caught in a downward spiral. For 2003, 70,000 slots have been authorized, though this signals 50,000 effectively; 20,000 slots are being held in what is being referred to as "unallocated reserve". In the past, "unallocated reserve" has translated to non-use. However the US administration continues to pay lip service to its commitment to refugee admissions. On World Refugee Day this year, US Secretary of State Colin Powell noted, "the Bush Administration will not permit the attacks of September 11 and the continuing threat from terrorism to shake our nation's commitment to refugees." But that seems to have been exactly the case. More than 31,000 refugees whom the INS has approved for admission to the US are veritably stuck because the FBI has not processed their security clearances. Nevertheless, the situation of refugee resettlement had been bleak long before the recent backlash against America's fabled permeable borders. Even before 11 September 2001, the US was doing away with most family reunification programmes, and designating fewer and fewer groups for processing. In 2001, The United States admitted 68,430 refugees, that is 11,570 fewer than the authorised ceiling of 80,000, 4,085 fewer than were admitted in the year 2000, 16,576 fewer than in 1999, and 42,592 fewer than were admitted in 1991. Ismail, in the meantime, wonders if he will ever get to the US. "I will believe it when my plane touches that ground. The world and its politics are bigger than me."
