New visas and no jobs spells imminent destitution for refugees
Government strategically chooses time of mass unemployment to add vulnerable refugees to already-overflowing labour pool
I always imagined that, for a refugee who has spent the last seven years in one form of immigration detention or another, receiving the news that they had been granted a visa would be a cause for celebration. For someone who has been stuck in limbo in community detention for years, surely it would signify a new beginning, a chance to make a life for themselves. I didn’t expect that the receipt of a visa would induce nothing but fear, nor that it would carry with it the imminent threat of destitution.
It was in 2017 that then-Immigration Minister Peter Dutton introduced the ‘Final Departure Bridging Visa’ (FDBV). From this time, this visa has been issued to persons seeking asylum who were transferred to Australia from a regional processing centre for medical treatment on release from detention, and is valid for six months.
Initially, this visa was only granted to those deemed most capable of fending for themselves. Those with children under five years of age and those considered too vulnerable (primarily as a result of health conditions) were spared the harsh realities of a FDBV. This all changed in the last few weeks, as the Government began issuing FDBVs even to the most vulnerable of people in community detention.
These precautions exist for a reason.
On issuance, the meagre financial support the grantee was receiving immediately ceases, and they are given three weeks to move out of their government-provided accommodation. They can access Medicare, but no form of Centrelink support. The work rights that were so long denied their are granted, but studying remains disallowed. They are in fact not only allowed to work, but indeed must if they wish to avoid finding themselves on the streets. They are thrown headfirst into the deep end with nothing to help keep them afloat.
My examination of hundreds of Commonwealth Ombudsman assessments of immigrants held in detention for cumulative periods longer than two years revealed the Government had previously deemed at least 52 people too vulnerable for FDBVs.
Of these, five were members of family units also containing a child aged under five, and thus might yet be spared. Of the remaining 47 people, 42 have already been granted refugee status[1]. Thus, at least 18 adult males, 16 adult females and eight children — people whose fears of persecution have been found to be genuine and who have been assessed by the Government as highly vulnerable — have just been, or are at imminent risk of being, forced onto visas that may well be their ruin.
Even these numbers are a gross underestimation as there were over 800 medical transferees in community detention at the end of last year, yet only some 340 of them have so far been subject to Ombudsman assessments. There are therefore likely hundreds of people affected by these recent policy changes on whom there is much less data available.
The granting of FDBVs to these 42 people in particular is simply cruel. While the Government claims that these people are free to return to their country of origin, their status as refugees suggests otherwise. These people have genuine reasons to fear for their safety in their home country — as much as the Government would like to be rid of them, they have no other option but to try and eke out a living here.
In the middle of a pandemic and during the first recession in almost 30 years, at a time when we have witnessed mass job losses and when it is immensely challenging for any unemployed person to find work, the Government is forcing some of the most vulnerable members of our society to find work — or starve on the streets.
This group of people were already going to face massive hurdles entering the workforce for a multitude of reasons, including having been unable to work or study for the past seven years, lacking recognised qualifications, having English as a second language, the temporary nature of their visa, and the psychological burden of the trauma they have experienced — and which has, in many cases, likely only been compounded by prolonged detention.
They have no experience navigating the Australian job market, but must do so successfully in less than three weeks. And now, they will be competing against qualified professionals for entry-level jobs which simply don’t exist anymore. Only, unlike their competition, they won’t have JobKeeper or JobSeeker or any other form of support to fall back on.
With poor job prospects and no government support, many of these people will likely be forced to rely on charity in order to survive. The inevitable outcome of this policy is families left homeless and destitute. This will end up costing more in the long run — through, for example, healthcare costs and crime — than if these people were allowed the chance to build lives for themselves here.
What is abundantly clear is that the Government has no plan. Dutton and Morrison obviously do not want these people to stay in Australia, but they also have nowhere else to send them. There is no option but to perpetually renew FDBVs. Thus, this vicious limbo persists; men, women and children in need of protection remain the innocent victims of a political stalemate.
It’s time for the Government to admit that punishing this group of people indefinitely is wrong, no matter the justification. Besides, refusing resettlement is not needed as a deterrent to would-be boat arrivals when boats are being turned back anyway.
FDBVs are cruel and they’re unnecessary, and they are only going to push vulnerable people into even more desperate situations.
There are approximately 1200 people who were subject to offshore processing who are now in Australia — it’s time for them to be granted permanent protection as a small consolation for all the suffering they have endured. These people have the potential to make enormous contributions to our society, but they can’t do it wholly unsupported. Who could survive the deep end having never been taught to swim?
[1] Of the five who have not been granted refugee status, three have been found not to be refugees, one’s assessment is ongoing, and one refused assessment by the Nauruan government.
