A Nation of Xenophobes

Refugees aboard a crowded raft arrive in Lesbos, Greece in July. Photo: Sergey Ponomarev/The New York Times

After months of apathy and inaction, we are finally paying attention to the ongoing refugee crisis that has been taking place in Europe this year. Media outlets are giving Syrian refugees and desperate migrants the headlines they deserve, and we’re beginning to talk about our collective responsibility to ensure that the world’s refugees are out of harm’s way.

A few weeks ago, we were heartbroken by the photographs of three-year-old Aylan Kurdi washed ashore on a Turkish beach. His young, undeserving body lifeless on the white sands was a poignant reminder of the horror experienced by those simply seeking better lives.

In response to his photo, we retweeted, ranted and raged. We condemned the European Union for its failure to act, and we lamented the state of our globe.

And with each passing day, we hear of another outrage, another mishap. We’ve seen Italy turn away inflatable rafts packed full of migrants. We’ve witnessed Hungary close its borders to stop the flow of hopeless refugees. We’ve watched as it put up barbwire fences, much like those used to keep prisoners in jail or to prevent zoo animals from escaping.

We were horrified as we watched a journalist repeatedly trip families crossing the border into Hungary — all for great footage and an eye-catching headline.

This month, seventy-one migrants were found dead in an abandoned truck near Vienna. On August 24, a house in Germany that was prepared to temporarily house refugees was set ablaze by xenophobic citizens — one of several such tragedies to occur in recent months.

Frankly, it’s hard not to wonder where our humanity has gone. When did we decide that refugees weren’t worthy of life just as the rest of us are? And why do we value notions of citizenship and nationality over the livelihoods of people faced with insurmountable odds?

Our politicians tell us we’ve done more than anyone else has on this matter. Carly Fiorina said, “the Europeans need to continue to step up … They have not done as much as the United States has done on that front.” Bobby Jindal reminded us that, “We are already the most compassionate and generous country in the world, and it is not even close.” And Donald Trump declared that he’d “love to help, but we have our own problems.”

The facts, however, point to a very different reality. At a time when there are more displaced people around the world than anytime since World War II, the United States has done very little to help. There were 2.5 million Syrian refugees around the world in 2013. The U.S. took in just 36 of them. You heard that correctly: 36. Now, there are four million refugees, and we have only allowed 1,500 of them into to the country.

Germany, by contrast, received 154,000 refugee applications in the first half of this year alone. Turkey houses 1.9 million Syrian refugees, and Lebanon, a country of just four million, has over 1.1 million refugees within its borders. Last week, the Obama administration announced that it would aim to give entrance to 10,000 Syrians in the next year. Secretary of State John Kerry said the United States would raise its refugee admission limit to 100,000 in 2017.

These are important steps forward, but it simply isn’t enough. We can’t sit by, roosting on our self-professed greatness and compassion, as thousands of people drown in the Mediterranean, perish along the Hungarian border, and are denied their dignity in port cities.

We can’t blame a single country for its faulty actions or its inaction. Instead, we must acknowledge the issue and recognize our role in creating it. Europe must cooperate to more equitably share the burden of incoming refugees, and countries that are well equipped to accept more migrants, like the U.S., must accept more migrants.

This isn’t some sort of utopian dream. We can accept more refugees if we have the will to do it. We are a nation of immigrants — an amalgamation of peoples who, at one point or another, simply wanted better lives. These refugees wish for the same.