How Indians can respond constructively to the Syrian refugee crisis

More than seventy years ago, Indians left Burma in droves as news of the Japanese advance towards the west came to them. They left behind homes, businesses, community—their lives as they had known them—and ostensibly returned, in reality fled to, the country of their origin. Some came by boat, but most came by land. They walked, narrowly escaping landmines and bombs, reuniting with their families on a prayer. Families were located, regardless of origin, all over subcontinental India. Just a few years later began another mass migration—the largest, they sometimes say, in human history—as the subcontinent was divided. This time, violence among the migrants marked the movement. Across India’s western and eastern land borders, rivers of humans (and blood) flowed in both directions. Those borders remain permeable to those who would cross, but more so on the eastern side where ecological factors promote economic interdependence. Migration remains a political issue in eastern India.

#dnaEdit: No land for refugees

The point is: There is no one whose family history does not include stories of migration, voluntary or forced. There is a refugee’s story in all our memories. As we watch the world’s newest refugee crisis play out in West Asia and Europe, this is not a bad time to remember our own stories. We will then remember, without the aid of heartbreaking images, that no one leaves unless they have no choice. The decision to leave is a very difficult one to make and even more difficult to execute.
 
Around me in India, I am hearing people say they wish they could help the Syrian refugees. We could donate to the international NGOs organising relief but many of us cannot afford that. It is hard when you want to help but it is logistically difficult. We are, however, not without options. After all, relief and rehabilitation are only the tip of the iceberg. Now that this crisis has got us thinking about displacement, let us consider the options for intervention that we, ordinary people with limited resources, have.

Read: How you can help Syrian refugees fleeing to Europe

The first is the most important— can we prevent displacement? After all, the preferred future for most people is to be where they grew up and where their friends and family are, in their own homes or thereabouts. Why do people leave then? Some of the usual causes: abject poverty, development projects where they lose their homes, disaster, conflict or trafficking.

Take the farmer suicides around India. Without entering into a meaningless contest over misery (is this crisis worse than that one?), I would say those are a call to action. Apart from governments, there are NGOs trying to address the causes of those suicides in a variety of ways. Some address the question of credit and debt. Some address the questions of soil degradation and farming methods. Afforestation projects also help in some places. Some NGOs might even be organising the farmers to bargain collectively. Are these efforts we could learn about and support? Support does not just mean money. It could mean professional help or the donation of column inches or tweets. If hunger and the lack of opportunity are forcing people to flee their homes, we should be thinking about how to create opportunity right where they are, and in consistent, sustained ways of their choosing.

Development projects are a huge cause of displacement. Projects like Sardar Sarovar will have caused thousands to lose their homes. Land acquisition for large corporate projects—whether in Nandigram or in Jagatsinghpura—would result in people losing the land they have cultivated for generations, and therefore, both their livelihood and lifestyle. Nuclear reactors like Kudankulam, located in seismic zones, will damage the local ecology (and fisheries’ livelihood) and raise safety concerns. These forms of displacement are invisible to us, living in Indian cities. We see the development displacing unwanted migrants and try to zone them away so they cannot be seen, even while we depend on their work for the efficient running of our homes and cities. Small, if difficult, shifts in our lifestyle are one contribution we can make to turn this tide— if we consumed less electricity, we could reasonably explore other kinds of energy production, for instance. We could also look at protests with less suspicion, recognising that people are fighting for their very lives in all these places— not just for the pleasure of inconveniencing us. When the struggles end, then what? Protests and police action have disrupted schooling in many of these areas— can we support the communities there, regardless of our politics, so that tutoring for Board Exams is available, for instance? The challenge is to understand the need and step in as we can, rather than follow headlines.

Disasters routinely deprive people of their homes and force them to flee. With climate change, disasters like floods are becoming more common. In the last few years, we are seeing efforts to organise relief become more and more efficient— tragically, we are gaining too much practice. Then the next disaster strikes and the efforts move on. Those who organise relief cannot organise reconstruction— that takes different skills and a different order of familiarity with local concerns. The suggestion here is that we learn about the work that is being done, sometimes in partnership with local administrations, to build resilience. Can a community prevent disasters? Bihar, for instance, can expect floods, but does not really need to prepare for a volcanic eruption. With the knowledge we now possess, can we help communities anticipate and prepare for minimal disruption? This also applies to our cities, not just remote villages we consider ‘backward.’ Adopting villages or districts would make for good CSR projects. NGOs that promote alternative resource management techniques also help in this process. If we stay the course when disaster strikes, then we can turn our attention and support to the important long-term work that will spare people the prospect of flight.

The Syrian refugees are drawing attention once more to the connection between conflict and displacement. Most of us feel like there is nothing we can do to prevent conflict; that is the government’s department. We forget that governments are usually parties to these conflicts. In our peace education session last week, we talked about collective responsibility for peace. Acceptance; the willingness to engage in dialogue; sensitivity to each other’s concerns and needs; respect for equality, freedom and human rights, and ecologically sustainable choices are at the heart of peace. In the face of extremely violent behaviour, it may seem as if these values are meaningless, but the question is what drives people to violence? Where does violence begin? Can we make the small timely fixes in our societies and polities that will prevent people from using violence? Can we try and eliminate violence from our speech and behaviour? Peace does begin with us; it’s not just a pretty quotation.

Also read: Refugee crisis- How are European countries responding to the humanitarian challenge?

Trafficking is another cause of forced migration. Our search for cheap household or factory labour, for instance, may be one factor that makes trafficking profitable. What do we understand about anti-trafficking laws? Learning about local offices and NGOs working to end trafficking and taking the time to find out what happens to those ‘rescued’ are also good places to start. Unless we learn about a problem, we cannot find ways in which we can become part of the solution.

People flee when they see themselves as having no other option. The challenge is to step beyond the blankets and the annadanam to make sure they do have options that allow them to stay home. Migration should be voluntary, not desperate. (There are also migration stories in all our families, if we would care to remember.)

If addressing root causes feels too remote and removed from the humanitarian crisis to be satisfying, there are still areas in which concerned, compassionate citizens can intervene close to home in India.

Every communal riot has displaced hundreds of families, who move into official and informal camps, and live with the barest of civic facilities and personal security. In Ahmedabad, in Muzzafarnagar, in Mumbai— just anywhere, these settlements are not secret or hidden. Any social work college can point you in their direction. From the provision and maintenance of sanitation facilities to lighting in public areas to livelihood training to legal support, there are needs in these permanently makeshift communities that remain to be met.

UNHCR estimates that in 2015, there are around 200,000 refugees in India, and the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre estimates around 616,140 internally displaced persons as of April 2015. Refugees in India either have to make their way with the help of family and other networks, or they are forced to stay in camps. Decades later, a large number of Sri Lankan refugees in Tamil Nadu still live in camps, unable to integrate, unable to return. Let our concern about Syrian refugees, about whom most of us can do nothing, transfer to the condition in which these refugees—whose children are Indian for all practical purposes—continue to live. Everything is not about money. As citizens, we can also raise questions of our government and our representatives.

In the middle class drive to beautify our surroundings, we are tempted to support slum demolition drives. Our humanitarian concern about the displaced could extend to a willingness to look for mutually beneficial solutions that are not unjust, unilateral and coercive. Dialogue is better than demolition.

This week, we are haunted by the images coming from the shores and roads of Europe, and by the words of refugees who are finally centre-stage. But flight is an old story, and it is a story in which most of our families have shared at some point or the other. This is why the images are hurting so much— we remember vaguely that that could be any of us. Flight is also a neighbourhood story, with roots in local challenges that need local solutions and these are the solutions of which we can all be a part. More than old clothes, more than food, more than money, we need an honest commitment to remove the causes that move people to leave everything behind and run for their lives.

Swarna Rajagopalan is a political scientist by training.