Operation Allies Tolerated

Allison Bostrom
Migrant Matters
Published in
6 min readJul 31, 2024

A few years after the fall of Kabul, how is the US program for Afghan refugees faring?

Indulge me for a moment: when you think about the US refugee resettlement program, especially Operation Allies Welcome (OAW), what comes to mind? Does the image in your head look something like those on the OAW page of the Department of Housing and Urban Development website? Do you picture fresh, clean, furnished apartments? Laughing, happy children playing in the sun? Ample food deliveries?

I'd like to give you a reality check from the front lines of the resettlement process, but first, I should briefly explain some terms.

Who are the Afghans arriving in the US?

For the purposes of this article, I am going to use the term “refugee” broadly. It has a highly specific legal definition, which I have argued, many times in different fora, is too specific to be useful. Here instead, when I mention refugees, I am referring to anyone who felt forced to leave their home and seek safety abroad. This includes the group of Afghans who have arrived in the US on Special Immigrant Visas, which are travel and residency permits given to Afghans who served the US government and its affiliates. That work now puts these people and their families at grave risk, so many of them have come here to attempt to rebuild their lives. Other Afghans, many of whom were also in danger because of their work in human rights, journalism, etc., are arriving either with SIVs or via humanitarian parole or the asylum system. All of these people will be referred to as “refugees” for simplicity here.

What actually awaits Afghans who resettle in the US?

I work and volunteer with an organization in the Washington, DC area that helps newcomers, most of whom are refugees. Though we help anyone who comes to us in need, we have strong ties to the Afghan community and the majority of those we currently help are Afghans. The situation in which these people find themselves upon arrival in the US could not be more different from the idyllic vision outlined above.

Some people arrive in the US with the support of a resettlement agency (RA). These are organizations that receive funding from the government and elsewhere to help refugees settle into their new lives. In principle, they are supposed to help with housing, including covering a few months’ rent while people find their footing. They should also help refugees enroll in services such as SNAP (food stamps), Medicaid, and public schools. Most RAs also have programs for helping people to enter the workforce, learn English, and engage in other activities that are essential for resettlement.

However, the RAs are completely overwhelmed. I know from my time at the International Rescue Committee that the case workers who are assigned to help refugees navigate life in the US are overburdened to the point of absolute burnout. There is not enough staff or funding to adequately serve the populations who need help. Now, RAs are not even taking walk-ins in the DC area. If refugees did not secure a place with them before departing for the US, they receive no help whatsoever.

Even those who do have RA help receive fairly minimal assistance. The job market is incredibly difficult, and most people arriving from Afghanistan are fleeing unimaginable trauma. I have heard many heartbreaking stories and I know that this is just a small sample of the horrors these people have endured. However, the RAs can at best provide furnishings and a month or two, maybe three, of rent. They usually help people enroll in benefits, but they cannot rush the government. People arrive in the US and must wait until their SNAP and Medicaid benefits come in. This sometimes means that they have to find food pantries in their area, generally without a computer or even smartphone and sometimes with limited English skills.

If you grew up privileged to always have something to eat, as I did, let me tell you the harsh reality of food pantries. They are doing their best, just like the rest of us are, but it is not enough. Food pantries are often only open for a couple of hours one or two days a month, and they sometimes run out of food before the end of those hours. This means that sometimes we send refugees out on public transit to sites that don’t have any food for them. Our supposed “allies” and their families can easily and do go hungry while they wait for benefits.

By the way, the housing I mentioned? Many of our families live in a few big apartment complexes that have roaches, bedbugs, and mold. I had someone explain to me that he was worried about used furniture because he’d heard that people ended up with bedbugs from it, and I did not have the heart to tell him that the bedbugs are already there, waiting to infest whatever donated furniture we bring him. Those with bedbug-infested furniture are a step ahead of the ones who arrive with no RA support and find themselves in a completely empty apartment (empty except for the bugs, of course).

Why don’t they get jobs?

Here’s the thing about applying to jobs: it takes time, and when your family is hungry, you do not have time. Going hungry also makes it harder to do everything else, and this is compounded by the aforementioned and generally untreated trauma. However, as a volunteer, my main role is to help people work on their resumes and search for jobs. These people’s resilience never ceases to amaze me—I get requests for resume assistance on a regular basis. Despite the many challenges they face in entering the American job market, most of the people I work with are determined. They take my comments and suggestions without complaint, even if I explain to them that they have to redo their whole resume to align it with US standards.

Do you know how many times I have had to tell someone with a graduate degree and/or 10+ years of work experience that they will probably have to start with a minimum-wage job? I’ve lost count already. It’s one of the most disheartening parts of my volunteer work because it is just so incredibly unfair. Especially when you consider that many of these people had to leave their homes because of their work with and for the US government, the system (more accurately, lack thereof) for transitioning refugees into the US labor market is absolutely not fit for purpose.

Essentially, we are asking Afghan (and other) refugees to do the impossible. They have to immediately throw themselves into the world of navigating food assistance, trying to furnish an apartment enough to make it livable, finding clothes, and getting a job in a foreign country, all while grappling with mental and/or physical scars from decades of truly horrific war.

Are our “allies” really “welcome”?

This is not what welcome looks like. Afghans, especially SIVs, arrive in the US with their minds set on the promises (explicit or implied) that the US government made. They were told they would be welcomed and recognized for their service to the US government. Instead, what they find is a broken and inadequate system, with volunteer-run organizations desperately trying to fill in the cracks. The level of direct government involvement in service provision is so poor that I routinely have people assume that our organization is affiliated with the government in some way (we don’t even get government funding), or that I am some sort of job placement expert with an office they can visit. We have some incredible expertise and dedication in our organization, but we are no substitute for a functioning social welfare system (which, of course, should be helping anyone in need, not just refugees).

At the end of the day, what the US government is really providing Afghans is the opportunity to come here without being kicked out. That’s not welcome. At best, it’s tolerance. And if this is the way we treat our so-called allies, I hope it makes you think about how other refugees are treated.

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Allison Bostrom
Migrant Matters

Ever-curious researcher and writer with a desire to change the way we treat people on the move.