Thursday, February 15, 2018

Refugees and the Olympic Games

Last Friday, the 2018 Winter Olympic Games in Pyeongchang, South Korea began. Watching the thousands of athletes march into the stadium during the opening ceremony, each representing their respective nations, made think of the millions of people who no longer have a nation to call home. According to the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) there are 65.6 million forcibly displaced people worldwide, with 22.5 million of those considered refugees. A refugee is someone who has crossed an international boarder because of a well-founded fear of persecution in their home country. As a result, millions of people have fled their home country to escape persecution resulting in millions of people outside of their assigned geopolitical border. In a world that is organized into nation-states and likes to keep people in their neat and tidy nation state boxes, having millions of people crossing those borders and upending this organization has lead to chaos. This need to categorize people by nation-state is even apparent in how the Olympic games are organized. Athletes must belong to a recognized nation-state and qualify at an international competition representing that nation-state in order to go to the Olympic games, which effectively makes refugees and stateless people ineligible.
2016 Olympic Refugee Team
https://www.olympic.org/news/the-refugee-olympic-team-a-symbol-of-hope
However, at the 2016 Summer Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro the International Olympic Committee (IOC) formed the first ever Refugee Olympic Team consisting of 10 young refugees representing countries like Syria, South Sudan, Ethiopia, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The IOC gave these athletes the opportunity to live, train and compete as Olympic athletes. The IOC President, Thomas Bach is quoted describing the Refugee Team as a message of hope to all refugees around the world. He also stated that the Refugee team shows what a person can achieve if they want to, and that they are providing inspiration to refugees all over the world, showing that anyone can meaningfully contribute to society with their “talent, skills, and strength of the human spirit.” Bach also described the team as not “simply refugees”, but human beings and athletes who are competing with other athletes, and serve as a reminder to the world that refugees are fellow human beings and serve to enrich all of society. Prior to taking the Refugees and Displaced People course I wouldn't have given his remarks much thought other than to think how great it is that Refugees are having a chance to compete and what an inspiration they are. However, after learning about the often demeaning and infantilizing language used to describe refugees and the many stereotypes applied to refugees I take several issues with Bach’s comments. His comments serve to perpetuate many common tropes and stereotypes, particularly the silently suffering hero, and the helpless refugee that (surprise!) is also human.
            Now, at risk of sounding horribly cynical let me preference by saying that it is wonderful that refugees were given a chance to compete in the Olympic games and that the IOC attempted to shine a spotlight on a very important and distressing issue. Also, giving others hope is not a trivial or futile action. I also acknowledge that his comments were made with the best of intentions, but I think they are still worth unpacking and critiquing as they bring up some troubling underlying assumptions about who refugees are, and their basic humanity and worth.
First, to say that the Refugee Team represents what a person can achieve if they want to implies that the problem for refugees and their inability to change their situation lies in them not “wanting” to change. This oversimplifies a very complex problem and shows an appalling lack of understanding about what refugees actually face in the process of filing for refugee and asylum status. No one wants to be a refugee. No one wants to be stateless or living in a camp for decades. If it was simply a matter of wanting then we wouldn’t have 65 million displaced people.
            Bach also states that they are not “simply refugees”, but human beings, and the Refugee Team serves as a reminder to the world that refugees are human beings that are capable of enriching society. Humans are highly capable of dehumanizing people they see as less or not worthy. We see this dehumanization every day in the rhetoric of the current administration, police brutality against African Americans, and violence perpetrated against LGBTQ people especially trans people. However, the world shouldn’t need a reminder that refugees are human beings. No one is “simply” a refugee or “simply” anything. Human beings are human beings and should be treated as such. The international community shouldn’t need an Olympic team of 10 young refugees to see that, but based on the recent rhetoric around refugees maybe a reminder is necessary. 
            Finally, Bach describes the Refugee Team as a message of hope and said they provide the inspiration other refugees need. Again, this simplifies the refugee crisis into a two-dimensional, simple problem that can be solved if refugees “wanted it” more or were “inspired”. Refugees don’t need inspiration. They need food, water, shelter, access to medical care, and to be resettled in countries rather than spending decades in refugee camps being subject to starvation, violence, sexual assault, and a world that infantilizes, demonizes and rejects them. Rather than giving them an Olympic team to “shine a spotlight on an issue” that quite frankly needs less spotlights and more action, organizations with money, power and influence, like the IOC, should be using that power and influence to actually address the refugee crises rather than simply call more attention to it.

            I will conclude by acknowledging that in lieu of a Refugee team at the 2018 Winter Olympic Games the IOC launched a new foundation called Refugee Athlete Support that will allow Olympic Committees in countries that are hosting refugees to identify and support refugee athletes so that they can prepare for and participate in international competitions. While this is an honorable endeavor, we need less reminding of the problem, and the humanity of refugees, and more action to address the needs of refugees and take meaningful action to tackle the root cause of displacement. The first step in all of this is changing the language we use to talk about refugees. This includes language that, like Bach’s comments, seems positive, but at its core serves to reduce and infantilize refugees, and strip them of their humanity by once again feeling the need to remind the world that they are human.

References:


Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Dehumanized.

"During our travels we had not only lost our few and poorly things, we had lost our history and our identity. I was Cyrille Kabore no more. No we were only a series of numbers. Anonymous.”

The above quote was taken verbatim from a short film (8 minutes) by Fabio Palmieri that tells the story of a refugee, titled “What It’s Like to be Dehumanized”. If you wish, you can watch this here (The Atlantic, 2017).
Dehumanized. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines this as to “deprive of human qualities, personality, or spirit.” The video I mention above is an illustration of how one displaced individual experiences this as he made several daunting transitions throughout his young life. The film gives a visual analogy of “anonymous” beings as lifeless, plastic mannequins. Unable to speak for themselves and assembled as in a factory. Manicured by humans who had the power to paint, clean, and comb hair while the mannequin lays lifeless. It may be natural for many to watch this video, and mostly attribute the sorrow of dehumanization to war and persecution. But to assume this is to miss an incredibly significant point that this video communicates, namely, he became “a series of numbers” as he came under the far-reaching umbrella of the humanitarian apparatus.

Photo credit: REUTERS/Mandel Ngan/Pool
Michel Agier (2011) critically appraises the humanitarian infrastructure and the political milieus behind intervention. When displaced persons (DPs) flee their country, they become stateless, thus are depoliticized and lose protection; they are not recognized by the new state as a citizen. When they enter into the humanitarian apparatus, they are labeled and thereafter managed and ‘contained’ based on this label (i.e., asylum seeker, refugee, etc.). Agier gives a powerful description of how DPs are dehumanized within this context. He defines dehumanization as the “suppression of life” (p.18), and further describes it as being reduced to basic needs to physical survival: food, water, shelter. Countless individuals and families leave oppressive political situations to enter into a new territory where they continue to have no voice. Many are physically kept alive, but slowly die on the inside as their humanity is unceasingly and repetitively stripped away. This containment and control is “a mere step…to non-existence. And a step that can be crossed as soon as the political possibility is opened of letting people simply die…” (Agier, 2011, p. 18).

Photo credit: odi.org
One question that Agier poses is: what does governing the stateless mean? As of 2016, nearly 70 million people were displaced (UNHCR, 2017). This number is enough to fill an entire country, yet are declared stateless, politically unprotected, and subject to discrimination and violation of human rights; currently, the humanitarian apparatus is charged to ‘contain’ the stateless. While externally clothed with care and compassion, its actual infrastructure and execution is marked by non-democratic regulation. Its beneficiaries receive physical support, yet are stripped of humanity and voice as they wait on ‘what’s next’.
             Of course the most ideal solution would be that DPs would be able to return to their home as they remembered it, without fear of persecution or political oppression; this is not the reality for most. Countries that are signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention are obliged to uphold their commitment to receive and protect the displaced who are received into their state (UNHCR, n.d.), however, less than 1% of DP’s have been resettled worldwide (UNHCR, 2016). Meanwhile, they surrender to endless waiting, while some (as Cyrille Kabore did) attempt to flee their circumstance to find a better life. Millions upon millions remain under the humanitarian apparatus.

Photo credit: Takever, Flickr 
Can the humanitarian infrastructure be held accountable? Can policies be shaped by the voices of the displaced? How is it that the UNHCR (a non-governmental program) is charged with governing and mobilizing the stateless? I return to Agier’s question: what does governing the stateless mean (Agier, 2011)? The current humanitarian situation is ever growing in capacity, yet continues to spiral down in its execution. If (physical, emotional, spiritual, social) humans are to be kept alive beyond ‘bare life’ (food, water, shelter), and perhaps even thrive (given they are fleeing oppression), the humanitarian situation must improve.



References

Agier, M. (2011). Managing the undesirables: Refugee camps and humanitarian government. Malden, MA: Polity Press.

The Atlantic. (2017, December 13). What its like to be dehumanized. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLSfk5QEz14.

Dehumanize. (n.d.). In Merriam-Webster online. Retrieved from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/dehumanize.

UNHCR (n.d.). Convention and protocol relating to the status of refugees. Retrieved from http://www.unhcr.org/en-us/3b66c2aa10.


UNHCR. (2017). Figures at a glance. Retrieved from http://www.unhcr.org/en-us/figures-at-a-glance.html