A Passover Parable (Especially for Refugee Advocates)

This week marks the beginning of Passover (called Pesach in Hebrew), the holiday celebrating the Jewish people’s liberation from slavery in Egypt.

In some ways, the story of Passover is the quintessential refugee story: A persecuted people flees oppression, undergoes a long, transformative journey, and arrives in a new land. Of course there are some unique twists: G-d directly intervenes to save the Israelites and ultimately transform them into the Jewish people, and–for a change–the persecutors get their comeuppance (there’s quite a bit of smiting in the story).

The Baal Shem Tov’s stories are the Besht ever.
The Baal Shem Tov’s stories are the Besht ever.

Like most Jewish holidays, over the years, many traditions and stories have been incorporated into our celebration. One of my favorite stories involves the tradition of welcoming the prophet Elijah—who heralds the coming of the Messiah—into our homes by opening our door near the conclusion of the Passover meal (called a Seder). Here is my favorite Elijah story. It originates with the Baal Shem Tov, also known as the Besht, a Jewish spiritual leader from the eighteenth century, and comes to me via the late writer Leonard Fein (who apparently heard it from his mother, an eighth-generation descendant of the Besht himself):

It happened that a Hasid (a disciple of the Besht) came one day to the master and said: “I don’t understand. Every year, we have a wonderful Seder, we do everything we have been instructed to do, and every year, we open the door for Elijah — and he never arrives. How can this be? I feel we are spurned.”

The Besht considered his disciple’s complaint, and then told him to load a wagon with food, wine, matzos, and also clothes and gifts for the children, and travel to a certain hut in a nearby village and spend the first two days of Pesach with the destitute family that lived there; it was there that he would certainly see Elijah.

The Hasid followed the Besht’s instructions punctiliously, and the next morning he arrived at the dilapidated hut in the nearby village. He was greeted warmly, his gifts were accepted with tears of gratitude, and that night, the entire family — mother, father, five children, along with their surprise guest, celebrated Pesach together.

Yet when the door was opened for Elijah — no Elijah.

Bitterly disappointed, the Hasid returned to the Besht and told him what had happened — and, more important, what had not happened. The Besht explained that Elijah must have been delayed, but that at Pesach time next year, the Hasid would surely encounter him. So he must at the time of the holiday return to the hut, once again with a wagon filled with food and gifts — but this time, before knocking on the door, he must first eavesdrop on the goings-on within the hut.

The next year at Pesach, the Hasid did as told, putting his ear to the door before knocking. He heard the mother’s lament: “We have no food for the holiday. Nothing. How can we celebrate?” And he heard the father’s reply: “Not to worry! Don’t you remember that last year, Elijah came with all that we needed, and gifts for the children as well? Have faith; he will surely come on time once more.”

So ends the story, save for its moral: Rabbi Hillel taught, “Where there is no man, be thou a man.” The Besht, through this story, taught, “Where there is no Elijah, be thou Elijah.” Through acts of loving kindness, each of us has the power to bring us all closer to redemption.

For those who have devoted themselves to helping refugees (or helping anyone else, for that matter), I think this story has particular resonance. While we continue to hope that the world situation will improve, and that fewer people will be forced from their homes by war and persecution, we must also continue our efforts to help those in need. As we read in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” In other words, Keep on Truckin’ and have a Happy Pesach!

How Halloween Helps Save the World (or at Least Some Refugee Children)

World War II left approximately 75 million people dead and up to 20 million displaced. Many of these displaced persons, or DPs, could not return to their countries. Hundreds of thousands were resettled to new homes in Western Europe and the United States. Two years after the war, there were still 850,000+ people living in DP camps. And as late as 1953–eight years after the War–more than 250,000 people continued to live as refugees. Of course, many DPs during the post-War period were children.

Through Trick-or-Treat UNICEF, the undead can help the living.
Through Trick-or-Treat UNICEF, the undead can help the living.

The civilian response to the DP crisis was led by the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, which helped resettle hundreds of thousands of refugees. Private individuals were moved by the humanitarian tragedy as well.

In the Autumn of 1949, Mary Emma Allison was in downtown Philadelphia when she bumped into a children’s Halloween parade. She followed the parade into Wanamaker’s Department Store where she met a cow (yes, a cow). She then followed the kids and the cow to a booth for UNICEF, the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund. It turns out, the parade was promoting a campaign to send powdered milk to needy children overseas (hence, the cow).

After her chance encounter, Ms. Allison and her husband, Clyde Allison, a Presbyterian Minister, organized Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF. The idea was that if kids were already going around the neighborhood collecting candy, they might as well do some good while they’re at it.

The venture started modestly enough during Halloween in 1950, when the Allison’s three children collected money from their community. That first year, they raised $17.00 in nickels and dimes, which they donated to UNICEF (although the acronym has remained the same, UNICEF is now the United Nations Children’s Fund). The money went to help children displaced by World War II. In those days, a dime was all it took to buy 50 glasses of milk for needy children in Europe.

The effort grew from there. In 1960, President Kennedy noted “UNICEF has captured the imagination of our people, especially our nation’s children… ” Seven years later, President Johnson signed a proclamation that designated Halloween as National UNICEF Day. By the time Ms. Allison died, a few days before Halloween in 2010, Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF had raised more than $160 million. The program has continued since then, and by last Halloween, it had raised over $175 million. The money buys food, clean water, milk, medicine, and much else for children in more than 150 countries. These days, a $5-donation to UNICEF buys five days of food for a malnourished child; $100, measles protection for 100 kids; $400, a pump to give an entire village water.

Many of the children helped by UNICEF are refugees, and they have special needs. In Syria, for example, UNICEF is trying to prevent millions of children displaced by the war from becoming a lost generation. The agency has been on the ground since the conflict began, working with other organizations to provide education, physical protection, psychological support, and clothing to Syrian refugee children in Iraq, Jordan, Turkey, Lebanon, Egypt and other countries. UNICEF also helps immunize children against disease and provides millions of people with access to safe drinking water.

Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF is a great way for kids to help kids. After 65 years, the reasons for the program remain constant: To make Halloween meaningful as well as fun, to protect the lives of the world’s youngest and most vulnerable, and to inspire kids to discover their own ability to help other children like themselves. If you’d like to learn more, please visit the UNICEF website, here.

Terrorism, Trump, and the Moral Cowardice of Our Time

History is filled with people who think that their ignorance should trump your life.
History is filled with people who think that their ignorance should trump your life.

It’s September, and for most of us, it’s a time to remember a beautiful, clear morning in 2001 when the world turned upside down.

Since then, we’ve witnessed wars and terrorist atrocities, which seem only to get worse with each passing day. I interact daily with asylum-seeker clients whose lives have been disrupted by such events, and whose friends and loved ones have died (or more accurately, been murdered). The recent destruction of an ancient temple in Palmyra, Syria and the murder of the 81-year old chief archeologist there strikes home for me, as I visited those magnificent ruins when I was a young man.

Members of Al Qaida, ISIS, and the Taliban deliberately kill innocent and defenseless people. They rape children. They destroy history. There really are no words strong enough to condemn their actions.

But one word that I have often heard used to describe terrorists is “cowardly.” I for one, do not think the terrorists are cowards in the normal sense of the word. Maybe killing innocent people is a cowardly act, but voluntarily going to fight in Syria or Iraq, or flying a plane into a building are not the actions of cowards. They are evil and misguided, but–at least to me–not cowardly.

There is another, perhaps more profound, application of the label “coward” when it comes to such terrorists, however. It is the moral cowardice of harming another person without making the effort to understand that person’s humanity. It takes courage–sometimes great courage–to understand people we view as different from ourselves. When the 9-11 hijackers flew their planes into the twin towers and the Pentagon, they were cowards in the sense that they had failed to consider the individual human beings who were their victims. This type of cowardice allows people to do terrible things. America has harmed “us;” therefore we are justified to harm “them.” But this fails to account for the fact that there is no “them”–there are only people, living their lives day to day.

Perhaps the terrorist can justify their actions to themselves: No one in the U.S. is innocent; they are all complicit in their country’s systematic attack on Islam; God demands the destruction of the non-believer. And while the terrorists planned and prepared for their attack, I’d wager that none inquired into the lives they hoped to destroy. Did they spend time with the loving husband and father of a new baby girl? Did they visit and get to know two young daughters of a Georgetown professor who were on their way to Australia? Did they bother to meet the hard-working firefighter and father of eight who had devoted his life to serving his community? Of course they didn’t. To meet and come to know your “enemy” destroys the very notion of us-versus-them. While it’s easy to project your hate and anger and fear onto “the other,” it is a whole lot more difficult to depersonalize and extinguish an actual human being when you have come to know her (you can learn about those who died on 9-11 at Legacy.com).

For me, this is the greatest form of cowardice of our time. Though we live in a world that is more integrated than ever, we still manage to deny the humanity of our fellow human beings. Moral cowardice.

Which brings me to Donald Trump. I am not saying that Mr. Trump is a terrorist, but he has something in common with terrorists. You guessed it: Moral cowardice.

Mr. Trump–and the bevvy of Republican contenders racing to keep up with him–want to detain, deport, and deter many potential immigrants, including “illegals,” refugees, asylum seekers, and H1B workers. Of course it’s a whole lot easier to deport people you’ve labeled illegals, “rapists” and “killers.” It’s harder when you have to contend with actual human beings and their stories.

Take the case of R-H-, a young man from Honduras. A gang member tried to date his sister, and when the parents refused, the gang murdered his mother, father, and sister. R-H- escaped and came illegally to the U.S., where he was detained. R-H- did not have a lawyer, and the Immigration Judge denied his asylum application and ordered him deported. He appealed pro se. I participate in the BIA Pro Bono Project–where we screen unrepresented cases and refer them to pro bono attorneys–and I read his case and recommended it for referral. Ultimately, R-H- was granted asylum (and finally released from detention).

Now maybe you believe that all “illegals” like R-H- should be deported. But before you reach that conclusion, you have a moral (and intellectual) obligation to understand exactly what you are advocating. R-H- was the victim of horrific gang violence. If he were deported, he likely would have been murdered. It’s a reasonable (though in my opinion, wrong) policy position to state that people like R-H- should be deported–our country has limited resources, we have to help “our own” before we help others, etc. But to create a straw man–an “illegal”–without knowing anything about the real person, and then to call for his deportation, is moral cowardice. Before you say, “Deport them all,” you better know who it is that you are deporting and exactly what that means.

The funny (or ironic) thing is, even the most anti-immigration people often have compassion for the immigrants they know. My friend was a fundraiser for Pat Buchanan, who is certainly no friend of immigrants. But when my friend’s friend landed in removal proceedings (for assaulting a cop, no less), my friend referred him to me for help. After we won the case, my friend sent me a wonderful note: “You did the most important thing a person can do–you made me look good for recommending you.” I love that, but the point is, even my friend who supports Pat Buchanan recognized the humanity in the immigrant he knew and wanted him to remain in the U.S. To look at an abstract group of “illegals” is one thing. To know the individual is quite another.

Indeed, when Mr. Trump met with Dream Act activists two years ago, he told them, “You convinced me.” In the face of hearing their stories, even The Donald wanted to help.

To some degree, all of us are guilty of dehumanizing “the other.” It’s impossible not to. But when we advocate for positions that harm others without understanding–or even trying to understand–the potential harm, we fail as moral beings. Hopefully, our nation expects better than that from itself and from its presidential candidates.

A Military Solution to the Migration Crisis?

The European Union has been struggling to cope with a surge of migrants fleeing war and poverty in the Middle East and Africa. The high season has not yet begun, and already hundreds have died trying to cross the Mediterranean. Thousands more have arrived on the Continent to seek protection. In response, the EU is planning a combined military campaign by air, sea, and possibly land against the smuggling networks. Can such a plan succeed? And could the lessons of Europe be applied to our own migration crisis along the Southern border?

Just because you have a hammer does not mean every problem is a nail.
Just because you have a hammer does not mean every problem is a nail.

According to a recent article about the EU plan:

The campaign’s aim is defined as “to disrupt the business model of the smugglers, achieved by undertaking systematic efforts to identify, seize/capture, and destroy vessels and assets before they are used by smugglers … The operation will need to be phased in and will be heavily dependent on intelligence.

Military operations would focus on actions “inside Libya’s internal and territorial waters and the coast,” and possibly “ashore,” as well.

The downsides of such an operation are fairly obvious. As an EU planning document admits, the campaign could result in innocent people being killed: “Boarding operations against smugglers in the presence of migrants has a high risk of collateral damage including the loss of life.” There are also difficult practical problems—smugglers frequently rent boats from fisherman and then fill the boat with migrants shortly before they sail. So there is little time to identify which boats are being used for human cargo and to neutralize them before people are aboard. Also, the Libyan coast is dangerous. Different militias control different parts of the country, and some have the capacity to target European warships and aircraft. Finally, and maybe most significantly, the migrants are desperate people fleeing for their lives, so it is unclear whether they would be dissuaded from their journey if it were marginally more difficult.

On the other hand, large numbers of people are already dying at sea (about 2,000 so far this year), and there is little doubt that the impunity the smugglers enjoy encourages them to continue their activities. There is also some evidence that the smugglers are encouraging certain people to make the journey, when they would be better off staying put. But the question is, Can military force make the situation better?

First, I suppose it depends on how we define “better.” If we mean that Europe will have to deal with fewer migrants, then military action against the smugglers may make things “better,” at least to some degree. We’ve seen this story before in the militarization of the drug war. The costs to the drug smugglers goes up, the cost of the product goes up, and—perhaps—fewer drugs get through. The key difference between smuggling humans and smuggling drugs is that each person must be able to pay for the cost of his trip. If the cost to smuggle drugs goes up, the users pay, but if the cost of human trafficking goes up, the trafficked people must pay. If action against the traffickers increases the cost of passage, maybe fewer people will be able to afford the journey. And if fewer migrants reach Europe, the situation will be “better” in that Europe will not have to deal with it.

But if “better” means actually addressing the problem, interdicting smugglers will likely not make the situation any better. If the asylum seekers were merely economic migrants, they might be dissuaded from making the trip. But most of the people crossing the Med are fleeing for their lives–they are from places like Syria and Eritrea, where return to the home country is unthinkable. Cutting off the route to Europe will–at best–force them to go somewhere else.

While Europe does bear some of the blame for the current mess in the Middle East and Africa (due to colonialism and economic exploitation), I don’t believe that the Europeans can be expected to accept every migrant who come their way. However, I do think Europe–and the rest of the world–has a moral obligation to help legitimate refugees fleeing violence and persecution. Perhaps European interests would be better served by using its military and logistical power to establish better safe havens for refugees, and to create an orderly resettlement process for those who will likely never return home.

And what of America? Is there a military solution to our own migrant crisis? Much of the migration to our country is driven by gang and cartel violence in Central America and Mexico. Last year, the Congressional Research Service published a report about the U.S. government’s role in combating Central American gangs. The report details our efforts on the law enforcement and preventative sides of the gang problem. In short, it seems that a law enforcement-only approach (such as Mano Duro in El Salvador) is not as effective as a more holistic approach, and so the effectiveness of throwing additional military forces against the gangs seems doubtful.

Perhaps the border itself could be further militarized, but it is difficult to see how this would make much difference either. The number of agents at the border is at an all time high, and the number of apprehensions has dropped to 1970s levels (indicating fewer people attempting to enter illegally). The bigger problem these days is the large number of people surrendering at the border and requesting asylum, and of course this is not a problem amenable to a military solution.

For us and for the Europeans, the influx of asylum seekers presents a serious challenge. Rather than using military force to attack smugglers and deflect the problem, we would be better off addressing root causes and protecting vulnerable people from harm.

Syria of Blessed Memory

The Greek philosopher Heraclitus tells us that you can never step into the same river twice. We often find ourselves returning to places we visited long ago, though of course those places have changed and so have we. At least that’s how it is for me with Syria.

A dashing young traveler visits the Old City of Damascus.
A dashing young traveler visits the Old City of Damascus.

I visited Syria with two friends way back in April 1990, when I was a student at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. We left Israel during our Passover break, making the reverse commute, as it were, to Egypt, where we got new passports without Israel stamps (people with Israel stamps were not admitted to Syria–and they could be arrested). We then crossed Sinai and the Red Sea, spent some time in Jordan (where we further rid ourselves of evidence that we’d been living in Israel), and finally took a bus to Syria.

In those days, Syria was ruled by Hafez Asad, father of the current dictator. His Droopy-Dog image adorned buildings, money, walls, and calendars. This was eight years after Asad put down an uprising in Hama, killing thousands in the process. Syria in 1990 was repressive, but it was safe for tourists and very welcoming. I don’t remember what I expected before I went, but as a young Jewish student visiting Israel’s number one enemy and finding human beings–friendly ones at that–I found myself changed forever. I’m reminded of a line from Christmas in the Trenches, a song about World War I: “The walls they kept between us to exact the work of war / Have been crumbled and are gone for ever more.”

Aside from the friendly reception, Syria was a wonderful place to visit: the Old City of Damascus, the 1300-year-old Umayyid Mosque, the Citadel and covered souk in Allepo, the Crack de Chevalier (a medieval castle), the Roman ruins of Palmyra. Over the years, I had many occasions to think about my trip to Syria, and how it affected me. However, despite the repressive nature of the regime, I never had any Syrian clients.

That changed after the Revolution began in 2011. I started receiving cases from Syria, and I started thinking about the country in a new way.  

Since then, some of my most tragic cases have come from Syria. Many of my clients have lost family members–siblings, parents or children. Others were detained and tortured during the early days of the Revolution (now, it seems, the regime no longer releases detained opponents–it kills them). Many have had their homes destroyed, their property looted, and their businesses seized. All have had their lives profoundly disrupted.

On one level, it is difficult to square the destruction and the terrible stories from Syria with my memories of the place. I was there during peace time, and I’ve come to view my time in the Middle East in 1990—and especially my trip to Syria—as a dividing line in my life. For me, it marks the transition from childhood to adulthood.

Maybe because my trip to Syria came at a significant time in my life, the difficulties of my Syrian clients has affected me more deeply. Or maybe it is because I became a father–with all the new emotions that entails–not long before the Revolution began. Or maybe it’s simply that the stories from Syria are so heartbreaking. I suppose the “why” doesn’t much matter. For anyone who deals with Syrians–even one so far removed as me–it is impossible not to be moved by the human tragedy that we are witnessing. And for those of us who have visited Syria, the loss is somehow more vivid.

It’s Passover again, and once again my family and I are celebrating the holiday of freedom. This year, I am remembering my trip to Syria a quarter century ago. I am also thinking of my clients, and the millions of others, who have been harmed by the current war. It seems impossible that the war will ever end, but one day it will. Until then, I hope we will continue to protect refugees from Syria. As we are reminded each Passover:

When strangers sojourn with you in your land, you shall not do them wrong. The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you, and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

Chag Sameach. Happy Passover.

Protecting Refugees Fleeing Ebola; Ignoring Refugees Fleeing Violence

Apparently, there was some Big News recently about immigration. I am not sure about that, but there was some other news this week, a bit under the radar, also about immigration: The United States has offered Temporary Protected Status (“TPS”) to people from Liberia, Guinea, and Sierra Leone who are currently present in the United States. The reason: Ebola.

"I'm 25% more dangerous than Ebola."
“I’m 25% more dangerous than Ebola.”

This means that people from those countries will not be removed from the United States, and they are eligible for a work permit. The TPS is designated to last for 18 months, and then could be renewed or ended, depending on conditions in West Africa (and political considerations in North America). Applications for TPS must be submitted before May 20, 2015.

How does this contrast with our current policy towards Central America and Mexico? People in that part of the world do not face a threat from Ebola, but they do face a threat from cartel and gang violence, domestic violence, and–increasingly–government-sponsored violence related to the drug trade. So here’s a question: Which of these two scenarios is more likely: A person from Liberia dying from Ebola, or a person from Honduras dying by violence? Let’s take a look at some numbers.

According to the Center for Disease Control, 2,964 people in Liberia have died due to Ebola. The total population of Liberia is 4,092,310. This means that approximately 72 out of 100,000 Liberians have died from Ebola. Compare this to Honduras, where the murder rate is about 90 per 100,000. For those of you who like numbers, this means that a Honduran person is about 25% more likely to die from violence than a Liberian person is to die from Ebola. 

The story is similar for the other TPS countries. Sierra Leone has had 1,250 Ebola deaths, with a population of 6,190,280, or about 20 deaths per 100,000 people. And Guinea has had 1,192 deaths with a population of 10,628,972, or about 11 deaths per 100,000 people.

Other Central American countries are less violent than Honduras, but still very dangerous. The homicide rate in El Salvador is about 41 per 100,000 and Guatemala is 39 per 100,000. The rate in Mexico is about 21 per 100,000, but I suspect that that figure is out-dated, as violence there has been escalating.

In other words, generally speaking, a person in Mexico or Central America is more likely to die from violence than a person from Liberia, Guinea or Sierra Leone is to die from Ebola. And yet we have offered TPS to West Africans and nothing to Central Americans. Why?

I suppose one reason is the nature of the problem. Ebola is a new threat and it is likely to be short-lived. Also, it is very frightening and its potential victims are completely innocent. Finally, there probably aren’t a whole lot of people currently in the U.S. who will qualify or apply for TPS; maybe a few thousand. Gang and cartel violence, on the other hand, is more complicated. The problem is endemic and it does not look to go away anytime soon. Victims of this type of violence might also be perpetrators, and so offering them protection can seem dangerous (though I would argue that we can effectively weed out the bad guys). Last, there are a lot of people from Mexico and Central America currently in the United States. To offer them TPS would be a long-term, large scale commitment.

Which all brings us back to the Big Announcement of the week: Deferred Action for many people who have been in the U.S. for 5+ years. This certainly is a humanitarian benefit, in that it will keep many families together. But it is not a humanitarian benefit in the sense that it was created to protect people from harm. People in Central America and Mexico are facing a crisis. Violence there is out of control. While I am glad that we are not requiring people to return to places with Ebola, I think we should recognize that there is a certain hypocrisy in offering TPS to such people while offering nothing to our Southern neighbors.

The danger faced by Mexicans and Central Americans is equal to–or worse than–the danger faced by West Africans. It’s just that the source of the danger is different. And so in the wake of the TPS and Deferred Action announcements, I am wondering whether we should be doing more to help people fleeing the gang and drug violence that is killing so many. 

Can a Human Rights Lawyer Be Pro-Israel?

If you talk to people working in the human rights field, many will tell you that they view their work as an expression of their political and moral beliefs. More often than not, those beliefs are grounded in religious faith.

Dare to dream...
Dare to dream…

That is true for me. I am Jewish and I am an asylum lawyer. I view my work as an expression of my Jewish values. These values are derived not just from our sacred texts–which encourage discussion, debate, and self reflection–but also from our experience as a people who lived in exile and faced centuries of persecution. For me, Jewish values include respecting the life and dignity of all people, trying to understand “the other,” trying to understand myself, and sympathizing with the powerless. All this is a good fit with asylum law where I represent foreign people who face harm or death from governments or terrorist groups. But how do these values align with support for Israel?

There was a time when I felt that my values were largely consistent with supporting Israel. After all, it is a small country, created by refugees and surrounded by enemies. But more recently, it has become harder for me to be “pro-Israel,” as that term is generally understood. It’s not that I don’t support Israel and believe it should exist as a Jewish state. I do. But I have found that in recent years, it has become increasingly difficult to reconcile the values that guide my life and career with being “pro-Israel.” There are several reasons for this.

For one, it is difficult to accept the dishonesty of the pro-Israel side. Of course, this is not a problem confined to supporters of Israel. If anything, I see more dishonesty from opponents of Israel. But since I am Jewish and concerned about the behavior of my side, it is difficult to square my Jewish values with the pro-Israel propaganda that I daily see in the news. An example of this is how Israel’s supporters consistently put forth a narrative that exonerates Israel for any blame in the current conflict. It is true that Hamas initiated the recent fighting, but that is hardly the beginning of the story. Israel seems always to have an excuse for failing to make concessions or reign in settlers. As a result, moderate Palestinians are undermined (since they cannot show progress to their constituents) and extremists are empowered. A more honest evaluation would include self criticism–what have Israel and its supporters done wrong? How have their actions contributed to the cycle of violence? How have Israeli policies encouraged Jewish extremism? This type of analysis, I have never heard from the pro-Israel camp.

Also, I have great difficulty accepting the alliance of pro-Israel Jews with Neo-Conservatives and Christian Zionists. I find the Neo-Conservative’s view on the use of force to be immoral and anti-Jewish, not to mention cynical, short-sighted, and ineffective. Exhibit No. 1 in that regard is our war in Iraq. As for the Christian Zionists–people like John Hagee of Christians United for Israel–their purported love of Israel seems a thinly veiled proxy for hating Muslims. If there ever came a time when Israel was actually able to make peace with the Arabs, the Christian Zionists would be opposed: Peace with Muslims is not compatible with their world view. The values of Neo-Conservatives and Christian Zionists are profoundly contrary to my own. And while I understand that the enemy of my enemy is sometimes my friend, for me, certain alliances are beyond the pale. 

I also have trouble with the knee-jerk defensiveness of the pro-Israel camp, which is eager to label any expression of anti-Zionism as Antisemitism. Sometimes anti-Zionism is Antisemitism, and sometimes it is not. But there is a flip side to that coin: For many years, Jews have made the State of Israel an integral part of our religion. Synagogues have Israeli flags and signs supporting Israel, we celebrate Israeli Independence Day, we send our young people to Israel to study, we raise money for Israel. In other words, we have made Judaism and Zionism synonymous. In that case, it is hard to fault our enemies for confusing the two concepts. Frankly, I think our attachment to Israel is a good thing. What I oppose is the assumption that all criticism of Israel is made in bad faith, which allows us to avoid the difficult task of self examination.

Linked to the issue of defensiveness is the on-going effort by Israel supporters to stifle speech that they view as anti-Israel. They threaten funding sources, ban (or attempt to ban) disfavored speakers from Jewish events, label leftist Jewish groups “traitors,” and they rejected the dovish J Street’s attempt to join the Presidents Conference, an umbrella organization of Jewish-American agencies. If the pro-Israel camp sought to counter the ideas they find offensive, that would be one thing. But instead, they seek to eliminate those ideas. I am a believer in free speech and in the (very Jewish) idea of debating issues. To me, these efforts to squelch speech and avoid engagement on difficult issues is offensive.

Finally, I do not appreciate the effort of Israel supporters to deflect attention from Gaza by comparing it to the much more deadly situations in Syria or Iraq. While I think it is legitimate to ask non-Jews and non-Palestinians why they are more concerned about Gaza than Syria, I do not think that question is appropriate for Jews (or–obviously–Palestinians). As Jews, we should be concerned about the behavior of other Jews. We should question Israel’s policies that we disagree with. The fact that others are behaving worse than us does not seem a valid justification for our own actions.

I remember an incident from when I lived in Israel–way back in 1990. I was visiting the Jewish settlers in Hebron, a large Arab town in the West Bank. We went to the Tomb of the Patriarchs, which is considered the burial place of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It is a holy place for Jews and Muslims. We were in the Jewish section when the settlers started singing “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!” and dancing. They danced into the Muslim part and interrupted a dozen old Muslim men who were praying. At the moment, I felt I had to choose sides–with the settlers or with the Muslims. I am sorry to say that I chose to dance and sing with my fellow Jews. The old Muslim men stopped their prayers and watched us quietly, humiliated.

I still believe that there is a choice to make, but it is not a choice between Jews and Muslims or Israelis and Palestinians. It is a choice between right and wrong. I am pro-Israel in that I believe Israel should exist as a Jewish democratic state and that it has the right to defend itself from terrorists’ missiles and tunnels. But if “pro-Israel” means persecuting, humiliating, and de-humanizing Palestinians, refusing to make concessions for peace, demonizing opponents, stifling speech, and making alliances with morally bankrupt groups, you can count me out.

Another Death in Benghazi

On June 25, lawyer and human rights activist Salwa Bughaigis was murdered in her home in Benghazi, Libya. Her death is a tragedy for her family and her country, but it also hits home for me for a few reasons.

Salwa Bughaigis
Salwa Bughaigis

Ms. Bughaigis is being remembered for her service on the National Transition Counsel (she resigned because male leaders marginalized the few women on the Counsel), her work for democracy and women’s rights, and her early opposition to the Qaddafi regime. Less well known outside of Libya is her work on behalf of political prisoners (at a time when Qaddafi was hanging dissidents in the street) and her efforts–ultimately unsuccessful–to organize a Libyan national lawyers’ association. At the time of her death, she was trying to help reconcile Libya’s disparate factions and help the country transition to democracy.

Due to death threats in the months leading up to her death, Ms. Bughaigis had sent her children to live abroad and she and her husband had been spending most of their time outside of Libya. She returned with her husband to vote in the election and was murdered shortly after she voted. Her husband Essam al-Ghariani was apparently kidnapped at the same time, and he is still missing.

There are a few reasons that Ms. Bughaigis’s death resonates with me.

One reason is that it reminds me how good we’ve got it here. There is obviously a big difference between being a human rights’ lawyer in post-Qaddafi Libya and an asylum lawyer in the U.S., and though my clients and the people I interact with in government often drive me crazy, no one is trying to kill me. While there are certainly problems with the U.S. asylum system (especially these days), in many ways it is actually quite good, so I am generally working within the system, not trying to create a new system, as was Ms. Bughaigis. In short, I’ve had it a lot easier than Ms. Bughaigis, and her death reminds me that I should appreciate what we have in the United States–a relatively functional system that aspires to justice and that is designed to protect vulnerable people from harm. 

Ms. Bughaigis herself is similar to some of my clients. In fact, almost at the same time that Jihadist militants broke into Ms. Bughaigis’s home to kill her, I was sitting in an asylum office with my client, a woman attorney from Afghanistan who fears harm because of her work representing female victims of domestic abuse, forced marriage, and honor crimes. Other clients have included women who organized and operated girls’ schools and NGOs in Afghanistan, a female judge from Ethiopia, and women’s rights activists from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Eritrea, and Iran. Like Ms. Bughaigis, these women put themselves at risk to improve conditions for women and girls in their countries. I am thankful that our asylum system recognizes and protects such people.

Also, Ms. Bughaigis’s example demonstrates why asylum seekers should not always be penalized for returning to their home countries. Currently, if an asylee returns to her country, she can lose her asylum status in the U.S. After the Boston Marathon bombing, many politicians called for even greater restrictions on asylees returning to their home countries (because the accused bombers–who had asylum status in the United States–returned to their country before the bombing). The fact is, many people who are working for change in dangerous countries need asylum, but they also need to return sometimes to continue their political missions. Ms. Bughaigis’s case is axiomatic: She and her family left Libya due to death threats, but she returned to encourage others to participate in an election. The fact that she was brave enough and devoted enough to return does not negate the fact that she needed a safe haven outside of Libya.

Finally–and here I must admit to speculating–I can’t help but think that if Ms. Bughaigis had a chance to do it over again, she would do it the same way. She obviously believed so strongly in the future of Libya that she was willing to risk everything. She dreamed a beautiful dream, and she died in pursuit of that dream. This seems to me the definition of a life well lived. May she rest in peace.

The Way We Mourn Is Part of the Problem

The Jewish community around the world has recently been in mourning for the loss of three young Jewish men, kidnapped and murdered in the West Bank. Their bodies were found on June 30, more than two weeks after they were taken.

They are all our boys.
They are all our boys.

Israel blamed Hamas for the kidnapping and, since the three teens disappeared, has been engaged in a crackdown against the terrorist organization. For its part, Hamas did not claim credit for the crime, but praised the kidnapping. The event has sparked Hamas rocket fire from Gaza into Israel, retaliatory airstrikes, and the revenge killing of an Arab teen by Jewish extremists.

The discovery of the young men’s bodies also led to mass mourning within the Jewish community in Israel, around the world, and here in Washington, DC. Last week, 1,200 mourners attended a memorial service in suburban DC for the slain teens. Most of the attendees were Jews, but representatives of several local Christian communities were also present. All expressed solidarity with the family members and deep sadness at the loss of “our boys.”

Of course in times of tragedy, it is the nature of communities–even fractured ones like the American Jewish community–to come together to mourn and comfort one another. But this recent tragedy in my own community, and our response to it, has gotten me thinking about whether the way we mourn–and what events we choose to mourn–contributes to the problem of violence between communities. 

One area of concern for me is the us/them mentality of the Jewish community’s response (and obviously this is not unique to the Jewish community). The idea that there is an us and a them. Our expression of grief over the loss of “our boys” seems to me symptomatic of the problem. We grieve for “our boys,” but not for “their boys.” Maybe this is a trite point, but I can’t help but think about some of the people I have represented; people who have faced senseless losses as horrible as those suffered by the Israeli teens’ families.

For example, I am representing a Syrian couple whose newborn baby was asphyxiated by dust and poison gas during a battle. I also represented (successfully) an Iraqi mother who watched her son gunned down in front of her and in front of his own wife and young child. We recently attended an asylum interview for an Afghan man who saw dozens of his relatives and friends killed and maimed by a missile strike on a family wedding. There are no public memorials for these victims. No one even knows about their stories. Indeed, maybe because stories like these are so common in places like Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan, no one pays much attention. But I have met all these people and heard their stories, so when I see the outpouring of grief for the three Israeli boys, it is difficult not to feel that the solitary suffering of my clients (and millions like them) is unfair and that failing to fully validate the humanity of such victims is unjust. Perhaps if we thought of people like my clients as “us” rather than “them,” we would be more willing to take action to help them (and that goes for all the unaccompanied minors arriving at our Southern border–what if we thought of these children as “our boys and girls”? How would our approach to them differ?).

Maybe I am hoping for too much here. How can we acknowledge so many losses? Why shouldn’t we honor and support “our own” before we deal with everyone else? I don’t know, but it seems to me if we could do better about recognizing the humanity and the value of “the other,” we would take a big step towards preventing future harm for everyone.

A second concern I have about my community’s response to the deaths is more about what we didn’t do. We mourned “our boys,” but not the Palestinian boy who was killed in a barbaric revenge attack by Jewish extremists. Israel quickly arrested the culprits and Prime Minister Netanyahu and many others have condemned the killing. These are obviously important steps, but it is a bit different than mourning the loss of the young Palestinian. Mourning the young man’s death is important not only because “our side” is responsible for his death and thus it reflects on us, as Jews, but also because we need to recognize the boy’s value as a human being.

Again, maybe it is asking too much–especially in the heat of conflict–for Israelis and Palestinians to mourn each others’ losses, but I believe that this is what we must do if we hope ever to end the violence. Indeed, family members of one of the Israeli boys and of the Palestinian boy have been in contact with each other, and some Palestinians and Israelis have been crossing the lines to offer condolences to each other. If people so close to these tragedies can see the humanity in each other, perhaps one day the rest of us will too.

Unaccompanied Children Overwhelm Border, But No One Knows Why

The number of unaccompanied children arriving at the Southern border has increased 92% from the same period last year, reports the New York Times

Administration officials said 47,017 children traveling without parents had been caught crossing the southwest border since [October 1, 2013]. Most are coming from three Central American countries: El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras…. [There has also been] a spike in the numbers of girls and of children under 13 years old — including some barely old enough to walk.

DHS's new border drone, designed specifically to intercept unaccompanied minors.
DHS’s new border drone, designed specifically to intercept unaccompanied minors.

President Obama called the situation a “humanitarian crisis,” which it clearly is, and on Monday ordered FEMA to coordinate a response among several government agencies. The response will include providing food and shelter for the children, searching for relatives in the U.S., and adjudicating cases in Immigration Court. In addition, immigration enforcement agents are working to disrupt criminal smuggling networks and to dissuade potential migrants by broadcasting public service messages warning of the dangers of the journey. All this comes with a hefty price tag, of course, and the President has requested an additional $1.4 billion to deal with the crisis.

The response from advocates on both sides of the issue has been predictably predictable.

“This is a humanitarian crisis born out of the growing violence in Central America,” said Bishop Eusebio Elizondo of Seattle, chairman of the migration committee of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. “These children are refugees who deserve the protection of our nation. They should not be viewed as lawbreakers.” Similarly, an Obama Administration official stated that the surge was driven primarily by conditions in Central America, including deepening poverty, an increase in sustained violence, and by many youths’ desires to reunite with parents in the U.S.

On the other side, the indefatigable Republican chair of the House Judiciary Committee Robert W. Goodlatte opined, “Word has gotten out around the world about President Obama’s lax immigration enforcement policies, and it has encouraged more individuals to come to the United States illegally, many of whom are children from Central America.”

As to the argument that the surge is a result of increased violence in Central America, the (admittedly limited) data does not exactly bear that out. According to the latest information from the UN, between 2008 and 2012, homicide rates increased dramatically in Honduras, but actually fell in El Salvador and Guatemala. More recent data for El Salvador suggests that murder rates continued to decline in 2013, but by the end of the year–when a truce between two large gangs fell apart–began to increase. On the other hand, a recent report that attempted to parse out the effect of violence and corruption on migration found some correlation between increased violence and increased migration (other major factors affecting migration include the age of the migrant and her connection to friends and family who have already immigrated). At least for people coming from Guatemala and El Salvador, there does not seem to be an obvious correlation between increased violence and increased migration.

On the other side of the debate, Rep. Goodlatte argues that lax immigration enforcement is serving as a “pull,” which incentivizes young people to come to the U.S. Given that President Obama has deported more people than any other president, Rep. Goodlatte’s claim is, well, ridiculous.

So if it is not increased violence or lax enforcement, what is causing the surge in unaccompanied minors?

The short answer is, I don’t know and neither does anyone else. However, if I had to guess, I’d say that the main reason is that undocumented young people who reach the U.S. have a good chance of obtaining lawful status (through the Special Immigrant Juvenile program, asylum, T visas, etc.). As word of this has gotten out, more people come here. In other words, there is a strong “pull” factor at play for many migrants. Now don’t get me wrong, there are also very powerful push factors, with gang and cartel violence at the top of the list. Also, the fact that the journey here–especially for unaccompanied minors–is very dangerous, reduces the “pull” factor to some degree. The bottom line is, we don’t really know and we need more data about why young people are coming here.

One way to obtain this data–and I suppose this is a radical solution–is to ask the people who have come here. I imagine they know why they made the journey, and if asked, most of them will tell us. Another method is to make public and accessible statistical data about the number of people coming here, where they are coming from, what types of relief they are seeking, and the outcomes of their cases. Such data can be correlated with information about crime and violence in the sending countries, and this might give us some insight into the reasons behind the migration. With such information, we will be better able to make more appropriate policy choices and hopefully reduce the number of children coming here.

Obtaining better data should (I think) be pretty easy, and either Congress or the President could make it happen. The Executive Branch publishes some immigration data, but it is difficult to access and very incomplete. I really do not understand why DHS and DOJ don’t do a better job of organizing and presenting statistical information about immigrants. And if they won’t act, Congress could. But for all his huffing and puffing, Rep. Goodlatte has thus far shown little desire to improve the situation, and seems interested only in political hyperbole. Perhaps if he could muster some maturity and actually take some concrete steps, we might move closer to understanding what is going on. And, as they say, knowing is half the battle.

Raoul Wallenberg Lives! Maybe.

Raoul Wallenberg was a Swedish diplomat assigned to his country’s mission in Nazi-occupied Hungary. He arrived at his station in 1944, when tens of thousands of Jews were being deported to death camps.

Sometimes, to do the right thing, you have to break the rules.  And follow the Raouls.
Sometimes, to do the right thing, you have to break the rules. And follow the Raouls.

Using his cover as a diplomat, Mr. Wallenberg saved thousands of Jews from deportation. He gave them Swedish identity documents (of questionable legality), which protected them from deportation. He also rented various properties that became part of the Swedish mission, and which were thus protected by diplomatic immunity. The buildings ultimately housed (and protected) almost 10,000 people. Mr. Wallenberg used all the means at his disposal–legal and illegal–to save lives. All told, he is credited with saving over 100,000 men, women, and children.

I was reminded of Raoul Wallenberg when I heard the story of how my newest client came to the United States. 

The client is a young man from Syria. A pro-government militia arrested him and his friends. They were accused of involvement in anti-regime activities and taken to prison. My client was lucky enough to recognize one of the guards, who intervened and had him released. My client’s friends were not so lucky. They were ultimately released, but not before suffering severe torture.

My client made his way to another country and applied for a U.S. visitor visa. As my client related the story, it was clear that the consular officer thought the client might seek asylum in the United States, and he questioned the client about whether he faced any threats in Syria. Although he obviously had suspicions, the officer issued the visa, and now the client is seeking asylum.

Consular officers are supposed to deny visitor visas to applicants that they think have an immigration intent (an intent to seek asylum is considered an immigration intent). My suspicion here is that the consular officer correctly surmised that the client had immigration intent, but he issued the visa anyway. Was this, perhaps, a Wallenberg-esque move? Did the officer issue the visa precisely because he knew the endangered client could (and would likely) seek asylum in the U.S. and thus escape the danger in Syria?

Obviously, I have no idea what was in the consular officer’s mind, but it is interesting to consider his situation. When a Syrian or an Iraqi or an Afghan applies for a visitor visa, there is a decent chance that the visa applicant will travel to the U.S. and seek asylum. The consular officer’s job is to prevent that from happening; to anticipate who is an immigration risk and to deny a visa to that person. But what if denying the visa might result in the person’s death?

It is easy to say that the consular officer should just do his job and deny the visa, but at the end of the day, the officer has to live with himself and his decision. For me at least, it would be difficult to meet a person who is likely fleeing for his life, and to then deny him a path to safety. Also, if it were me, I would feel that I could accomplish something positive and life-affirming by issuing the visa and helping the person come to the United States.

But of course, the visa system is designed to do more than just block intending immigrants from gaining entry into the U.S. It is also designed to block terrorists and criminals. This is not an issue that Raoul Wallenberg had to deal with. In Mr. Wallenberg’s case, he was not giving out valid travel documents. He was just giving out passes that the German and Hungarian authorities generally respected. This prevented the Nazis from murdering the people who held the passes, but no one was traveling to Sweden (or anywhere else) on Mr. Wallenberg’s passes. There was no danger that Nazi agents would use the passes to infiltrate other countries or cause other harm.

In the case of a (hypothetically) modern-day Raoul Wallenberg who gives out visas to people fleeing persecution, the danger of helping a terrorist or criminal would have to be balanced with the desire to save lives. I don’t envy the consular officers who–whether they like it or not–have to make life or death decisions where their desire to help must be tempered by their duty to protect the United States and follow the law.

Amendments to the Terrorism Bar–or–How Fox News Enables the Holocaust

I’ve created a new invention. It’s called the “No-Hypocrisy Time Machine.” It enables us to travel back into the past to apply today’s laws and policies to historical events so we can see what impact they would have. In the process, we might just uncover some inconsistent or–dare I say it–hypocritical thinking. 

Before we begin our journey, let’s look at the laws and policies that we will be sending back in time. 

Barred from asylum: A Jewish boy provides "material support" to the Nazis.
Barred from asylum: A Jewish boy provides “material support” to the Nazis.

After the 9-11 attack, Congress passed the USA PATRIOT Act (2001) and the REAL ID Act (2005). Both laws strengthened and expanded terrorism bars contained in the Immigration and Nationality Act. The “terrorism bars” were designed to prevent terrorists and their supporters from obtaining immigration benefits in the United States. The problem was that these laws were over-broad. So even a person who was coerced into providing minimal support to a terrorist–for example, giving a glass of water to a guerrilla fighter on pain of death–might be barred from receiving asylum in the U.S.

Indeed, even the Bush Administration recognized that the terrorism bars were over-broad, and in 2007, DHS established some exceptions for coercion.

Fast forward to February 2014. The Obama Administration issued regulations exempting an alien from the terrorism bar where the alien provided limited material support–such as engaging in a commercial transaction,providing humanitarian assistance or acting under duress–to a terrorist organization. Importantly, the exception to the terrorism bar does not apply unless the alien has (1) passed all security background checks; (2) explained the circumstances that led to the provision of material support; (3) “has not provided the material support with any intent or desire to assist any terrorist organization or terrorist activity;” (4) has not provided support that the alien knew or reasonably should have known could be used to engage in terrorist or violent activity, or to target non-combatants; (5) poses no danger to the United States; and (6) warrants an exemption under the totality of the circumstances. One DHS official offered some examples of how the change might help otherwise innocent refugees: a restaurant owner who served food to an opposition group; a farmer who paid a toll to such a group in order to cross a bridge or sell his food; or a Syrian refugee who paid an opposition group to get out of the country.

Conservative commentators have characterized the exemptions differently. One wrote: “If you’re only sort of a terrorist, you can come to the US.” Fox News opined that the “Obama administration has unilaterally eased restrictions on asylum seekers with loose or incidental ties to terror and insurgent groups.” I suppose this isn’t much of a surprise since it is the business of Fox News and similar outlets to take the most mundane events, extrapolate them to the Nth degree, and then work themselves (and their viewers) into an outraged fury.

But how does Fox News’s position play out when we place it into our No-Hypocrisy Time Machine? Let’s travel back in time to World War II and the Holocaust to see what happens when today’s laws are applied to those dark times. Without the rule change, who might be barred from asylum in the United States–and thus deported into the hands of the Nazis?

The Schindler’s List Jews – These Jews–men, women, and children–would be barred from asylum for working in Oskar Schindler’s factory, which made cookware for the German Army. Deport them all. And by the way, that goes double for Mr. Schindler himself, who owned the factory and thus directly support the Wehrmacht.

Eli Wiesel – The Nobel Peace Prize winner worked for the Nazis in a slave labor camp. His labor would certainly constitute “material support.” His request for asylum is denied.

Tom Lantos – The California Congressman and human rights advocate spent time in a Nazi labor camp. Barred.

Simon Wiesenthal – The famed Nazi hunter was in Poland during the German invasion. He bribed an official to avoid deportation, registered to do forced labor, and later worked repairing railways. Barred, barred, and barred.

In fact, I’d guess that many–if not most–Jews (and others) who survived the Holocaust had to pay bribes, engage in forced labor or give other “material support” to the Nazis. So why does Fox News support policies that would bar these people from safety in the United States?

Obviously Fox News does not hate Holocaust survivors or Jews. But they do seem to hate the President, and to oppose anything his Administration does, even when his policies make perfect sense. Just as it would have been wrong to deny asylum to Eli Wiesel, Tom Lantos, and the others, it is wrong to deny asylum to innocent people who “supported” terrorist because they were coerced, they were unknowing or they had no choice. Modifying the rules related to the terrorism bar was the right thing to do. The claims to the contrary are–at best–inconsistent with universally-held values like protecting victims of fascism and terrorism. At worst, those claims are hypocrisy, pure and simple.

The New Middle Passage: Journeys of Modern Day Slaves

The blog entry was originally posted on Wherever Magazine‘s website. It’s not uncommon for me to meet clients who have been victims of human trafficking. Most of them were trafficked from East Africa to the Arabian peninsula, and then to the U.S. as domestic servants. Occasionally, I also meet clients who were victims of sex trafficking. For this post, I combined several of my own cases and one publicly available case in order to illustrate the problem of modern day slavery:

Amelia was a promising twenty-something working as a teacher in her native Indonesia. After she lost her job due to religious and ethnic discrimination, she wanted to move some place safe. She began looking for ways to come to the United States.

The past isn't really past.
The past isn’t really past.

Through an ad, Amelia found a position in the restaurant industry in New York. An agency arranged her travel to the U.S., but when she reached JFK, things were not as expected.

Her “contact” met Amelia at the airport and immediately took her passport and other documents. Instead of bringing her to the promised job, he took her to a brothel. When she protested, her contact threatened Amelia with a gun.

For the next several months, Amelia was transported from one brothel to the next and forced to have sex with many different men. Her captors kept her under close watch at all times. 

Finally, one day, she escaped through an unlocked window. Even after she was free, Amelia knew no one in the United States and she did not know where to go for help. She lived on the street until she met someone who put her in touch with law enforcement.

Amelia was able to obtain a “T” visa—a special visa for victims of human trafficking, which allows an alien to (eventually) become a permanent resident of the United States. 

Except for the successful escape, Amelia’s story is quite typical. Social scientists estimate that there are currently about 27 million victims of human trafficking world-wide. But only a small fraction of those victims—about 40,000 people—are identified and helped each year. In the United States, as many as 200,000 children are currently at risk of sex trafficking. Most victims are trafficked within their own countries, but many people—like Amelia—are taken on long journeys from poor countries to more affluent countries, where they serve as sex slaves, domestic labor or agricultural workers.

According to U.S. government estimates, last year over 17,000 people were brought into the United States to serve as slaves.

As an attorney who represents asylum seekers, I sometimes meet victims of human trafficking. One common scenario involves women recruited to work as domestic servants in the Persian Gulf (most commonly in Saudi Arabia and the UAE). The women usually come from poor countries in Africa and are lured to the Gulf with promises of a decent wage and steady work.  

In one recent (and typical) case, my client Fatima had been detained and beaten in Ethiopia because of her political activities. She was also a victim of female genital mutilation. Fatima had to find a way out of her country. She went to an employment agency. The agency helped Fatima obtain a passport and found a job for her as a domestic servant in the United Arab Emirates. In July 2009, she left Ethiopia and started working for a family in the UAE. 

Work conditions and pay were not as promised. Originally, the agency told Fatima that she would be babysitting one child. When she arrived, she found that she would be babysitting three young children. In addition, she had to clean the house, cook, wash laundry, and tend to her employers’ guests. Fatima worked 20 hour days, and her employer banned her from speaking with other Ethiopian house servants. When she showed signs of being unhappy, the employer threatened to return her to Ethiopia. 

In August 2010, the employers announced that they would be going to Florida with the children for a six month vacation. Fatima would come with them. The U.S. government issued Fatima a visa for “personal and domestic employees” and she was on her way to America.

In the United States, Fatima continued as a domestic servant, but now her employer stopped paying her. She knew no one in Florida and had little opportunity to meet people outside her employers’ house. Finally, after five months as an unpaid, 140-hour a week domestic worker, she met some other Ethiopians in a park. They told her that she could seek political asylum in the United States. 

Fatima called her brother in Ethiopia, who put her in touch with some friends in Ohio. Those friends found someone in Florida to help. So early one morning, while her employers were sleeping, Fatima snuck out of the apartment, went to a rendezvous point and met her contact. She stayed with him for a few days until her brother’s friends arranged to bring her to Ohio and then Washington, DC.

In DC, Fatima filed for asylum. The case took several years, but finally, in September 2013, an Immigration Judge granted Fatima’s application for asylum. She has now begun her new life in the United States. 

Fatima and Amelia both escaped from their captivity. Most trafficking victims are not so lucky.

At least in Fatima’s case, the U.S. government could have done more to protect her. She received her visa without an interview at the U.S. Embassy. For domestic servants who come to the U.S., the embassies should interview each person (as they do for most other visa applicants) and ask about wages, hours, and working conditions. Where there is evidence of trafficking, visas for the workers and their employers should be denied, and the local authorities should be contacted. At least this would reduce the number of victims trafficked to the U.S. And once they are here, the employers of domestic workers should be required to verify (with evidence) that the domestic workers are receiving their salary, paying taxes, and working reasonable hours. Employers who do not comply with the law should have their visas revoked and should be prosecuted.

For trafficking victims in the U.S., there are resources available. The Department of Homeland Security’s Blue Campaign raises awareness about the issue, and there are numerous NGOs, such as the Polaris Project, involved in the anti-trafficking fight. It will take the combined efforts of governments, non-profits, and individuals to identify and free victims of human trafficking, and bring the perpetrators to justice.

In this article, the names of the women and identifying details have been changed.

Ethiopian Refugees Help Catch Their Persecutors

In the Ethiopian-American community, at long last, the hunters have become the hunted. 

Members of the community have created a new website to share information and help bring to justice Ethiopian human rights abusers living in the United States. The founders of the website, called YaTewlid (meaning “The Generation”), are themselves torture survivors. They have been inspired by a few recent prosecutions of Ethiopian human rights abusers in the United States.

The most recent case involved a high-ranking prison guard during the time of the Red Terror in Ethiopia (1977-78). Earlier this month, Kefelgn Alemu Worku was convicted of immigration fraud after he entered the U.S. using a false name and lied about his background. According to the Denver Post, those who witnessed against him testified that Mr. Kefelgn tortured and murdered hundreds of prisoners, including one witnesses’ best friend. Mr. Kefelgn faces up to 22 years in prison (for the fraud) and then deportation to Ethiopia where, presumably, he would not receive a friendly reception.

Kefelgn Alemu Worku proves that time wounds all heels.
Kefelgn Alemu Worku proves that time wounds all heels.

As an aside, Mr. Kefelgn’s case demonstrates why the various immigration forms ask questions like, Are you a persecutor? or Have you ever committed a crime? On their face, the questions seems silly–what self-respecting persecutor would admit that he was a persecutor? The U.S. government does not necessarily expect persecutors and criminals to admit their misdeeds (though that would be nice). Rather, if the government discovers evidence that the alien is a persecutor, it is a lot easier to prosecute him for immigration fraud than for the actual crimes he committed in his country. And that is exactly what happened to Mr. Kefelgn. He was prosecuted not for his war crimes, but instead for his immigration fraud (this reminds me of how the government prosecuted Al Capone for tax evasion rather than murder). 

As of this writing, the YaTewlid website is only in Amharic, but its founders hope to have an English version in the future. I had an Amharic-speaking friend check it out. She reports that the website needs some work, but it will potentially be a useful tool for uncovering human rights abusers living in the U.S.

It seems to me that DHS/ICE would do well to talk to groups such as YaTewlid, since the people best able to ferret out criminals (and fraudsters) are members of the various immigrant communities. 

Indeed, ICE does have a special unit, called the Human Rights Violators and War Crimes Unit (HRVWCU – though I think they need a more sexy acronym), which is part of the National Security Investigations Division. According to its website, HRVWCU–

conducts investigations focused on human rights violations in an effort to prevent the United States from becoming a safe haven to those individuals who engage in the commission of war crimes, genocide, torture, and other forms of serious human rights abuses from conflicts around the globe.

The unit has had its fair share of successes. Again, from the website:

Since fiscal year 2004, ICE has arrested more than 250 individuals for human rights-related violations under various criminal and/or immigration statutes. During that same period, ICE has denied more than 117 individuals from obtaining entry visas to the United States and created more than 20,000 subject records, which prevented identified human-rights violators from attempting to enter the United States. In addition, ICE successfully obtained deportation orders to physically remove more than 590 known or suspected human rights violators from the United States. Currently, ICE is pursuing more than 1,900 leads and removal cases that involve suspected human rights violators from nearly 96 different countries.

The efforts of HRVWCU are crucial to preventing human rights abusers from taking advantage of our immigration and asylum systems, and to protecting the integrity of those systems. The cooperation of community groups such as YaTewlid is also crucial to this effort.

It is in the interest of everyone–government, immigrant groups, and “the system”– to find, punish, and deport human rights abusers. Only in this way can we provide some justice for the victims and keep the door open to legitimate refugees who need our protection.

Arguing with Idiots–or–Why We Still Need HIAS

For some reason, the Washington Jewish Week–the local Jewish newspaper where I live–found me, and decided I needed a subscription. So for the last few months, I’ve been receiving the paper free of charge (yeh, yeh – insert Jewish joke here).

At first, I was pleased, as I thought it would be good to learn more local Jewish news. But as I read more, I became less thrilled. If the WJW’s goal is to make Jews like me feel part of a larger community, it has failed. The paper might be fine for those Jews (a minority in DC) who oppose President Obama at all costs, support Israeli occupation of the West Bank for all eternity, and who generally don’t like Muslims. But for the majority of us, the–dare I say it–liberal Jews, the paper only helps alienate us from the broader community.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reading points of view that differ from my own–when they are well-reasoned and based on facts. But that’s not the WJW.

The editorial that has most recently raised my hackles is basically a hit piece against the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS).

With its mission accomplished, HIAS employees can finally relax.
With its mission accomplished, HIAS employees can finally relax.

As you may know, HIAS was founded in the late 19th century to help Jewish refugees from Eastern Europe. Over the years, the organization has changed to reflect changing needs. It helped Jewish refugees during and after the two World Wars. Later, it helped thousands of Jewish refugees fleeing the Soviet Block, Ethiopia, Iran, and other countries. HIAS also helped eliminate the discriminatory immigration quota system in the U.S. that–among other things–blocked many Jews from escaping the Holocaust. HIAS also assisted Vietnamese refugees after the fall of Saigon. As the number of Jewish refugees has (thankfully) fallen, HIAS’s mission has evolved. These days, most of its work has little to do with helping Jewish refugees. And that’s where the WJW editorial comes in.

In the editorial, called HIAS in search of a mission, the WJW argues that HIAS has outlived its usefulness. Given that there are “virtually no more Jewish refugees,” the paper asks, “Is there still a need for HIAS?” You can guess the paper’s answer:

[It] takes a certain maturity, and healthy doses of self-confidence and self-awareness for an organization to declare success and move on. Very few organizations are able to do that. Instead, they get caught up in their own stories and start believing their own PR, and view themselves as indispensable societal contributors.

HIAS has had its successes. It served well for close to a century as the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. Now its leadership acknowledges that the organization’s original mission is no longer necessary. Rather than search for a new mission in order to justify its continued existence, perhaps it would be better for HIAS to consider an orderly sunset.

So HIAS’s leaders are not mature or self aware? They are caught up in their own PR? How insulting. Oh, and here’s a good one: “HIAS has had its successes.” Talk about minimizing the organization’s accomplishments. Since its inception, HIAS has helped approximately 4.5 million people, in big ways and small. It has saved countless lives.

But I suppose it’s a fair question: Is HIAS still relevant? Here are some facts that were conveniently left out of the WJW editorial: (1) In partnership with Israeli NGOs, HIAS provides trauma counseling and social services to thousands of refugees from Darfur, including many children; (2) From a base in Kenya, HIAS provides resettlement services and social services to hundreds of refugees from East Africa–aside from the UN, HIAS is the only NGO providing these services in the region; (3) It is one of only a few NGOs in Jordan providing assistance to refugees from the Syrian civil war; (4) In the U.S., HIAS provides legal assistance to victims of torture, including those who are detained; (5) It provides resettlement assistance to refugees all across the United States; (6) HIAS works to help pass meaningful immigration reform; (7) HIAS provides an outlet for hundred of young Jews to engage in public service and, in the process, brings them closer to their own Jewish community. And there is much more, as anyone who cares to review HIAS’s programs can easily see. So does WJW think these services are no longer needed, or that HIAS is not the right organization to provide them? Or–as I suspect–did the editors at WJW not know that HIAS provides these services because they didn’t bother to learn what the organization does before they decided to trash it?

Finally, since HIAS’s mission was originally to help Jews, and since Jews are generally not in need of this type of assistance, shouldn’t HIAS just close down? Well, should Catholic Charities only help Catholics? Should Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services only help Lutherans? Should the Tahirih Justice Center only help Baha’is? You get the point. The religious-based NGOs are an expression of their members’ religious convictions. Just as these groups help refugees (and many others) as an an expression of their faith, so too, HIAS helps refugees–all refugees–as an expression of our Jewish faith. In Judaism, it’s called Tikkun HaOlam–repair of the world–and to limit Tikkun to assisting only Jews is mean spirited, short-sighted, and anti-Jewish.

So here’s a message for the good folks at WJW: Maybe its time to exercise some self awareness of your own, and recognize that your paper suffers from a lack of intellectual honesty. It takes maturity and self confidence to look at the world as it is, and to consider points of view other than your own. And if you can’t adapt to the needs of the Jewish community, maybe its time for an orderly sunset. Or–at the very least–please cancel my subscription because I am no longer interested in what you have to say.