Legalizing Compassion: How American Individualism Can Solve the Syrian Refugee Crisis

Division is a constant in American society today.

There is division between black and white, Democrat and Republican, men and women, citizens and police, Christians and atheists, T-Swift fans and Kanye fans.

Social media bleeds suspicion and otherness dominates the campaign rhetoric of politicians on the left and right.

There’s a degree to which division is necessary, even healthy, in a free culture — it is the price of choice.

Competition thrives where liberty is the rule, whereas people are necessarily united by oppression.

But the cruel irony of the increasingly vitriolic division that has racked America in recent years is that it is fueled by a slow drift toward group mentality — effectively, a division caused by unity. We’ve moved toward identifying each other as homogeneous masses of skin and ideas, and in our rush to boil everything down to hashtags and headlines, I fear we have lost sight of individualism entirely.

Which is tragic, because a return to individualism is exactly what is needed in the face of the current Syrian refugee crisis.

Both sides of the refugee debate are half-right.

In light of the Paris attacks, it makes sense to question the risk associated with importing refugees from regions currently ruled by radical murderers known for planning and executing terror attacks against civilian populations. This is true regardless of whether the latest attacks in Paris involved Syrian refugees (a question still being hashed out by French police).

Whether ISIS currently plans to infiltrate western nations by posing as refugees or not, the fact stands that they could.

Besides, if they hadn’t thought of that strategy on their own yet, a quick trip to Breitbart would probably give them all the ideas they need.

It is foolish to deny that there is risk associated with accepting refugees from areas under the control of the Islamic State. There are grave risks, and there is a chance that some individuals we accept as refugees could turn and use their freedom to kill Americans.

But that doesn’t mean we should turn them away.

I confess I’ve been torn on this issue for weeks, as the stories of the plight of the refugees poured in, balanced with stories of their sometimes frightening and aggressive behavior in Europe. For weeks I went back and forth between “we should accept the refugees and offer them asylum, because that’s who we are as Americans” and “we can’t afford to offer asylum to people who could pose an imminent threat to our national security, when all the nations around their homeland have explicitly rejected them.”

But as I sipped coffee this morning and tried to catch up on the news, it occurred to me that every time I discussed the issue, I built my reasoning around the terms “we” and “them”.

Somewhere along the way I accepted the premise that every American must be forced to make the same decision with regard to the unfortunates seeking shelter on our shores. At some point I unwittingly decided that the mass of displaced men, women, and children streaming away from war-torn Syria were a uniform group of people just as likely to bomb a stadium as to live a peaceful suburban life.

Only, they’re not.

The refugees aren’t a group — they are individuals, each with their own beliefs, values, and story.

Many of them are simply seeking a new home in which to start over after watching their country destroyed by a war that presents no hope for them, regardless of who wins.

Others may bring with them a hatred for the west and a willingness to commit violence against Americans.

Still others may seek to come here and spend the rest of their life drawing on our entitlement programs and gaming the system.

Some may be insane. Some may be criminals. Some may be radical Islamists. But some could also be good people looking to escape tragedy and build a better life.

The truth of the matter is that this risk has been present with every refugee anyone has ever accepted from anywhere, and if we grabbed a boatload of Americans fleeing Detroit tomorrow and put them on a ship to Japan, Japanese officials would have to assess the same risks. For all they know, that ship could include the next Timothy McVeigh.

Like any virtue, hospitality comes with hazard, and sometimes sacrifice.

But this is exactly why individuality is key: virtue is not exercised collectively, but individually.

Every time I discussed what we should do about the refugees, I neglected to ask myself what I should do.

It’s common folk wisdom to approach the question of war by asking if one would send their own son or daughter to fight and die on the battlefield. My willingness — or unwillingness — to make that sacrifice truly discovers the depth of my conviction with regard to the cause at hand.

Similarly, I had to do some soul-searching as I cast the question of the refugees into an uncomfortably personal light: Would I invite a family of displaced Syrian strangers into my home?

It’s a scary thought, no doubt. I have a beautiful wife and a six-month-old son at home, and we are devout evangelical Christians who are considered infidels by anyone who worships Allah. We would be offering our home, resources, and to some extent our lives, up to strangers — and no security measures could truly guarantee our safety.

After a lot of soul-searching, I decided that I do stand willing to take that chance, to shelter a stranger in need and help them start over.

Opportunities to change someone’s life completely don’t come up every day. They are precious, and must be tended carefully with the understanding that such acts of compassion are the kinds of acts that can change history.

Of course trust is built over time, and my family would want to get to know the people we are trying to help — which might be an inconvenient and scary process. But it’s a process best handled by individuals, and not impersonal and apathetic government agencies.

Maybe the solution to this whole thing is for government to step aside and allow those willing to assume the hazard and reward of taking in strangers to do so, with the understanding that there is no such thing as perfect security in a free society — it’s just a question of what we are willing to take risks for.

Rather than turning the responsibility of refugee resettlement over to government, maybe we should allow voluntarism to govern the process and place these people with families willing to help them get on their feet.

Maybe getting to know someone personally is a far better vetting process than standing in line waiting for paperwork from a naturalization officer behind bulletproof glass.

Maybe learning to take risks and showcase our values in spite of fear is exactly what will render the tactics of terror ineffective.

Maybe we should learn to treat people as individuals again.