Abstract
New forms of international cooperation will be needed to address the myriad problems that arise when vast numbers of humans migrate.
June 2002: Refugees caught by French railway police in Calais. They had hoped to board a freight train to travel to Britain through the Channel Tunnel.
People move. this self-evident assertion cannot, of course, capture the almost limitless nuances associated with large numbers of individuals crossing national borders. When people are forced to move across borders for political reasons, they may technically be “refugees”–that is, if they satisfy a set of highly articulated international legal standards.
But forced international migrants are only a discrete part of the world's uprooted. Displaced persons may be in flight from major infrastructure projects, such as China's Three Gorges project to dam the Yangtze river, or from creeping desertification in sub-Saharan Africa, or from environmental degradation in places like the environs of the Aral Sea or Chernobyl in the former Soviet Union. Then there are the millions of individuals who leave their homelands because of economic distress, or who are simply seeking better lives. The international migration mosaic is complex.
Governments employ a wide variety of policies, many of them rather categorical, to address transnational movements of people. But how they label these movements says more about the nature of government policies than about the particular motivations and characteristics of the individuals who migrate. Labels are often imposed on populations of people who have highly mixed motivations for moving.
Policy responses tend to focus on the purpose for travel. Individuals may be considered “refugees” in flight from persecution, or “asylum seekers” knocking at the door of a new country requesting protection. They may also be “migrants” intending short- or long-term stays, or temporary visitors such as students, business people, or tourists.
These categories, however, are not well conceptualized. Refugees may arrive as visitors, or as immigrants–like those who resettled in the United States before the advent of immigration controls in the first part of the twentieth century. Professionals may migrate in the face of persecution, as was the case with movements from Europe during World War II. Skilled newcomers may enter a country because they have close family members, or they may come on account of their personal and educational attainments. The variations are almost endless.
Certain forced migrants may seek protection under U.N. refugee treaties–the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees and its 1967 protocol. These individuals are beneficiaries of particular international arrangements under the aegis of the High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), a specialized U.N. agency based in Geneva, Switzerland. To be included in the refugee regime, people must be outside of their home countries and have a well-founded fear of persecution upon return for at least one of five reasons–race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion.
For those who meet the technical definition of refugee, there is a remedy: Governments are forbidden under the treaties from forcing refugees back to a place where they may be persecuted. But this legal prohibition is frequently violated, and state parties in any event enjoy considerable discretion. Some countries, for example, have interpreted the definition to exclude non-state groups from being persecutors, like Colombia's FARC guerrillas. Nor is a country required under the treaties to grant asylum to any refugee as long as it refrains from returning him or her to a place of possible persecution. As a result, many asylum seekers are left in legal limbo on the margin of a host society.
A U.S. border patrol agent arrests an undocumented Mexican migrant in the Calexico Desert in California.
Further, not all involuntary displacements are covered by the refugee treaties. For example, those who flee across borders to avoid the cross-fire of armed conflict or for environmental reasons are outside the ambit of the treaties. These individuals may be protected under regional arrangements, like a 1969 Organization of African Unity treaty that covers conflict-related displacements. In the former Soviet Union, the category of “ecological migrants” was specifically recognized in a 1996 regional declaration on migration. But little research–and even less policy–has been devoted to addressing their needs.
Politicians, particularly in developed countries, rail against the constraints imposed on policy by refugee law, but their governments continue to sign the U.N. treaties, which now have 144 signatories. At the same time, those governments continue to refine their tactics for avoiding the application of treaty provisions, such as requiring individuals to apply for asylum in the first country in which they arrive, or seeking to deter arrivals by detaining asylum seekers. Over the past decade, European Union members have developed a number of restrictive practices in an effort to build a “fortress Europe.” But North America is also getting into the act. In the wake of last September's terrorist attacks, the United States and Canada concluded a border agreement requiring refugees at border crossings to pursue asylum claims in the country in which they first arrived.
According to UNHCR, the number of refugees has been declining for nearly 10 years, from a high of 17 million in 1993 to 12 million last year (not including the millions of Palestinian exiles). On the other hand, the number of internally displaced persons who have been forced to flee their homes because of violence or persecution, but who have not crossed an international border, is on the rise, and is estimated at approximately 25 million. No single international organization is responsible for assisting and protecting these individuals, who remain largely at the mercy of their own governments.
Although internal displacement has emerged as an important international problem, political disputes remain: Should a legal and institutional regime be able to trump national sovereignty and justify intervention? Several U.N. agencies address parts of the problem, leaving many bureaucratic gaps in which individuals can fall.
Scholars argue that refugees are in particular need of international assistance because they have had all ties to their home countries severed and are without the legal protection of their governments. But the essence of the refugee character runs deeper. Refugees are in a painful transition between homes. We can all appreciate the notion of being dislocated, literally or figuratively, or of being between one place and another, whether in our family or professional lives. This is a prime reason why people have been motivated to help refugees. But for good fortune, it could be us.
May 1999: Refugees from Hurricane Mitch wait in line for potable water at a camp in Choluteca, Honduras.
But refugees also matter to states because they can be dangerous. Prolonged exile and deprivation in refugee camps can radicalize populations, which then threaten stability and peace in host and neighboring countries. One only needs to recall refugee conflicts in the former Yugoslavia and Central Africa over the past decade, or the current situation in Gaza and the West Bank, to realize how refugees can become security threats.
Exiles can be either impediments to reconstruction, or resources for state building. How the 1.7 million refugees who had returned to Afghanistan as of September 2002–as well as the hundreds of thousands who will follow–are treated will influence greatly the recovery of that devastated nation. A failure to appreciate the threats or opportunities associated with refugees could have a severe impact on the world over the course of the next century.
Refugees also have an intensely local impact. They have been a key feature in the revitalization of New York City. Over the past decade, approximately 200,000 refugees from the former Soviet Union have resettled in the city–second only to Dominicans in terms of numbers, according to Peter Lobo, a demographer at New York's Department of City Planning. He and I met in a lower Manhattan office strewn with cardboard boxes full of documents and maps on a quiet afternoon in August. “It is summer vacation time,” explained Lobo, whose family comes from Góa, a former Portuguese colony in India.
Refugees from the former Soviet Union resettled mainly in south Brooklyn, serving to maintain the white population in the city's largest borough. They were “nominally Jewish” said Lobo, the basis for their admission under a favorable U.S. immigration provision called the “Lautenberg Amendment,” and they were “quite well educated” in comparison to other arrivals. They also “really know how to work the system,” Lobo said admiringly, presumably reflecting lessons they learned from coping with the smothering bureaucracies that characterized the socialist East.
Restrictionists sometimes grumble that refugees from the former Soviet Union are really part of a special immigration program and that they are not really in flight from persecution. Policy-makers also wring their hands over the notion of “mixed flows” of refugees and migrants, although they often conflate the two concepts. But whether they are refugees or immigrants, newcomers have been instrumental in keeping New York from experiencing the kind of urban decay that afflicted so many other American cities late in the last century. The problem is not with the people, it is with the inability to fashion comprehensive policy.
An illustration of the dilemma can be found in the U.S. program to bring a few thousand Iranian refugees here each year. My tutorial on the Iranian admissions program was held on a pleasant August morning in New York City with three colleagues from the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS), who described to me the twists and turns of refugee policy relating to this discrete but desperate group of people. Our conversation took place in a conference room adorned with a photo gallery depicting HIAS presidents since the 1890s. They had a somber demeanor, befitting the leaders of perhaps the country's oldest refugee resettlement agency. HIAS was founded by Jewish immigrants in the 1880s. The agency, which has a mandate to assist Jews and others whose lives and freedom are in danger, has aided more than 4.5 million people since it began operations.
HIAS won a contract from the State Department to resettle Iranians who can demonstrate religious persecution, primarily Bahais, Christians, and Jews. In the absence of diplomatic relations between the two countries, and with no agency office in Iran, resettlement is done through the device of having the Austrian government issue a transit visa to individuals, who then travel to Vienna. A similar arrangement was used to facilitate the admission into the United States of refugees from the former Soviet Union.
HIAS tries to identify through family members and other sources Iranians who are members of persecuted religious groups. After they arrive in Vienna, agency caseworkers assist the individuals in preparing and documenting their claims. They are then interviewed by U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) officers, who make the final decision on their requests for admission. According to HIAS, denial rates range from 3 to 30 percent, depending largely on the personalities of local INS officials.
Iranians approved by the INS are then admitted into the country as refugees and receive modest forms of social assistance to help them integrate into their new homes. But refugees are a bit less welcome now. In recent years, approximately 75,000 individuals have been permitted to come after being screened abroad. Since the September 11 attacks, however, new security checks and procedures have dramatically slowed admissions.
Those who are denied admission can fall into a kind of policy trap in Austria, where they never intended to relocate. HIAS can ask the INS to reconsider their cases, or it can urge UNHCR to find another country which will resettle them. The individuals also can apply for asylum in Austria, although the unstated quid pro quo for permitting them to come was that they would not do so.
This exacting bureaucratic process has a decidedly curious outcome. Even if rejected by Austrian authorities, the claimant is not forced back to Iran. Together with other international non-governmental organizations (NGOs), HIAS has urged the U.S. Congress to enact legislation granting immigration residence status on humanitarian grounds.
Refugees are only the forced Dimension of the larger phenomenon of international migration. But it is surprising how little we know about this broader population. According to the United Nations, there are more than 180 million international migrants around the world, including refugees–the population of a large country.
At bottom, however, we simply do not know with precision how many people are in movement, who they are, from where to where they are moving, or what impact they may have. Wealthy governments and international organizations count movements of capital and goods around the world. But there is no entity that compiles comprehensive information about the movements of people. At a July 2002 U.N. meeting in New York, a group of experts gathered to discuss the lack of data and the uneven quality of information used to measure international migration. While those assembled recognized that migration has achieved greater prominence as a public policy issue, leading to greater demands for information, they ruefully acknowledged that answers are few.
There is a critical need for better and more refined information to underpin policy. It is impossible to wish away population movements in the name of sovereignty, just as it is impossible to wish away the force of gravity. Today, there are more people moving, and more people subject to displacement. International policy needs to catch up to this reality.
The many varieties of sources and methods for producing data on international population movements generate different types of statistics, which are often distorted by the policy process. Refugee numbers, for example, are reported by governments, which can have an incentive to under-count in order to minimize the problem and avoid political embarrassment, or to overcount in order to maximize international financial assistance. Individuals can be refugees who are to be rescued, migrants who are to be welcomed, or uninvited aliens subject to arrest and removal. Or they may fall into all three categories, simultaneously or in sequence.
September 9, 2002: North African wouldbe migrants sit on the deck of a patrol boat; they were intercepted off the southern coast of Spain.
The rudimentary nature of the inquiry is reflected by the fact that there is no universally agreed-upon definition of an international migrant. According to the United Nations, for statistical purposes, a long-term migrant should be defined as a person who has moved to a country other than his or her usual residence for a period of at least a year. Short-term migrants are those who move for at least three months, but for less than a year. Few countries, however, report on these categories, and the variety of sources and definitions used by different countries have frustrated efforts to achieve a fine-grained picture of the migration phenomenon.
But even if the U.N. definition were followed exactly, many policy-relevant questions about migration would remain unanswered. Increasingly, governments view international migration as a problem. According to a recent U.N. survey, 30 governments view the level of immigration as too high, up from 10 in 1976. While developed countries have traditionally been inclined to lower immigration rates, a similar trend now can be discerned in developing countries.
True conundrums arise when people move internationally, or are forced to move to another country, for economic reasons. Labor migration has been characterized recently by a growing restrictiveness and selectivity in the admission of migrants in developed countries, a significant increase in the number of countries that have become host to foreign workers, and rising expectations that workers and their families need to be protected. Yet, labor migration is viewed largely as a matter of national or bilateral concern. The adoption of the General Agreement on Trade in Services during the latest rounds of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade represented a first step in elaborating a broad framework for trade-related temporary movements of people based on government-to-government agreements. But so far, no such agreements have been negotiated.
At the regional level, the European Union aspires to regulate the movement of third-country nationals through common asylum and international migration policies. Economic arrangements in South America, the Caribbean, and Africa have sought to facilitate the movement of people. Under the North American Free Trade Agreement, temporary entry is permitted for highly qualified workers in 61 professions.
Undocumented migration is also a growing concern. Although it is exceedingly difficult to quantify, most believe it is on the rise. Harsh enforcement efforts by governments are often justified on these grounds.
The migration world of the future is impossible to predict with any precision. But there will surely be unpleasant surprises. Humanitarian catastrophes await. More people will be on the move, displaced, and presenting themselves at borders seeking new homes for a complex blend of reasons. Imagine the authorities of a relatively prosperous country watching the arrival of an unmanageable mass of asylum seekers and migrants, unable to invoke a transnational policy response. Notions of decency and tolerance quickly erode in the face of a community's fears and insecurity. Indeed, such pressures can ultimately cause severe damage to a system of world order. At bottom, this is why new forms of international cooperation are needed to address international migration while respecting the human rights of non-citizens.
But far from providing comfort, the fragmented and uncoordinated policy environment relating to international population movements feeds frictions and fears. There are myriad interests, which make a greater degree of international cooperation desirable. Some countries will be afraid that they will receive more than their fair share of uninvited asylum seekers. Others will worry that they cannot cope with the insecurity caused by displaced populations. Still others will be afraid that if they cannot attract newcomers they will lose a competitive edge, or that because of demographic trends, their social security systems will be degraded. Population losses will concern some countries, and the prospect of fundamental changes to societies and identities will worry populations in both sending and receiving countries. Concerted efforts are needed to allay the fears of governments and their people. If truly comprehensive, then such arrangements would likely shore up the rights of refugees and migrants.
A more comprehensive policy umbrella is needed. This would require a better understanding of the costs and benefits, both tangible and intangible, occasioned by movements of people. Migrants send home remittances comprising many billions of dollars each year–a highly effective form of foreign assistance. Whether they are political or economic migrants, wherever newcomers resettle, they change their new societies. And increasingly, newcomers maintain ties with their home countries through modern communications and international travel. But even though the impacts can be fundamental, transnational migration remains largely peripheral to public policy.
Achieving a comprehensive policy relating to the international movement of people will require new international institutional arrangements capable of serious research, leading ultimately to the creation of norms in this field. The establishment of a World Migration Organization (WMO)–as the economist Jagdish Bhagwati and I have proposed–could help achieve these goals. Such an institution would support, not supplant, the work of UNHCR, the International Organization for Migration, and the International Labor Organization, each of which addresses certain pieces of the policy puzzle. All of these agencies would continue their operations under the scheme we envision, albeit under increasingly effective forms of international cooperation.
While the International Organization for Migration, a non-treaty-based intergovernmental entity outside of the U.N. system, has a promising name, it is structurally unable to fulfill the objectives outlined above. It provides useful services in transporting refugees for resettlement and advising governments on matters of border management, but it does not have a research capacity, and it is unable to generate binding norms.
In contrast, one of our proposed new organization's first tasks would be to prepare comprehensive country scorecards relating to the variety of impacts occasioned by international population movements. This would include an assessment of the responses to internal displacement, which often lead to greater international migration. Only a deep understanding of the issues will permit policy to be made in an area that is largely governed by narrow political appearances and realities. Comprehensive international arrangements would also help to secure the sovereignty of both governments and individuals.
The ultimate objective of the new organization would be to propose and arbitrate global migration policy, which we firmly believe could be more effective, generous, and humane. The alternative is to muddle along, failing to appreciate both the threats and benefits. But the costs of just muddling along will become increasingly unbearable in terms of insecurity and lost opportunities. Sooner or later, a WMO-type mechanism will be needed to formulate international migration policy, with an inclusive definition of forced migration. The world needs a comprehensive policy for people on the move. •