It's time to end refugees' legal limbo

Syrian refugees leave Wazzani village, southern Lebanon on Sunday. People uprooted by war often fall between the gaps created by red tape, government policies and changing rules. EPA

For many of the tens of millions of people seeking asylum worldwide, completing the often-dangerous journey to a safe country is just the start of another phase of struggle as bureaucracy and a shifting legal status conspire to put futures on hold.

In a recent three-part series exploring these lives in limbo, reporters for The National across the Middle East spoke to refugees from Iraq, Sudan and Syria. A common theme was a sense of life delayed as the relief felt by escaping acute danger was replaced by years of uncertainty and frustration. Their testimony suggests that asylum systems are often unable to cope with the scale of the challenge. Worse, some countries’ approach seems geared towards perpetuating the uncertainty keenly felt by many refugees.

One such person is Mahmood Al Dulaimi, 46. A former radio journalist in Baghdad, he fled Iraq in August 2013 after being detained by militias. He fled to Turkey, where he has remained ever since. His temporary status means he is unable to work and an application to be resettled in the US has been in limbo since 2018. “It’s as if we are dead here,” he told The National. “Twelve years of my life are gone.”

Similarly, the story of Oussama – a refugee from Syria who has spent the past 10 years in neighbouring Lebanon – reveals how people uprooted by war often fall between the gaps created by red tape, government policies and changing rules. He lost his refugee status after accepting an offer of work to support his family but when this sponsorship ran out, he became trapped, unable to go home to Syria and left to a life in Lebanon’s shadows.

It is a clear that a reboot of existing protocols to help people such as Mahmood and Oussama is long overdue. Better pathways to helping refugees access work and education is not only good for them and their families, it is good for host nations that want to avoid having a large, rootless refugee population that is either living in poverty or being exploited as black-market labour.

This means moving beyond confining temporary statuses and coming up with more flexible and manageable solutions. The UN’s refugee agency champions what it calls “complementary pathways”. These schemes allow refugees and asylum seekers to access work, educational and other opportunities outside their countries of origin or asylum.

This, the UNHCR says, encourages self-reliance, eases the financial and social pressures on host countries and can support third countries in addressing labour or skills shortages. Enabling refugees to support themselves can also build public support in host countries by showing the positive contribution that they can make.

There are no easy answers and certainly no one-size-fits-all remedy but more innovative thinking is required both by states and international organisations that oversee asylum and resettlement applications. A humane and practical approach is needed. Documents matter for livelihoods and a sense of security; access to education, health care and work is vital. This is not to minimise the progress that has been made; Turkey, for example has done much to accommodate more than three million Syrians in the past decade, in addition to those seeking safety from other conflict-ridden countries like Iraq and Somalia. But the pressures felt by host countries in the Middle East, such as Lebanon, can be acute – especially when they have myriad problems of its own.

This is not a call for host countries to grant citizenship or permanent residency to millions asylum seekers en masse – states have a right to determine their own demographic balance and stability. But if the experience of those who shared their stories with The National in recent weeks is anything to go by, the work to end refugees’ legal limbo and allow them to start rebuilding their lives must begin now.