Sponsor a Future Canadian-Iraqi Today!
Matthew Stevens / April 20, 2008
April 20, 2008 -- “Have you heard?” I ask a Canadian friend of mine. We are talking about Iraqi refugees here in Cairo. “A group of five Canadian citizens can privately sponsor refugees for resettlement in Canada.”
My friend stares back at me. He’s typical middle-class Canadian, well informed, eager to make a difference. He’s never heard of this sponsorship program. “When did they start that?”
Canada earned an international reputation as a safe haven for the stateless in the 1970s by admitting 137,000 “boat people” fleeing South Vietnam in the space of a few years. During the crisis the Canadian government realized it lacked the resources required to assist Vietnamese in need. So, to better help these people out of danger, the government implemented the once-famous “Private Sponsorship for Refugees” program.
To learn more, I went to Martin Jones, a prominent Canadian lawyer visiting here in Cairo. “The ‘boat people’ led us to create this program,” he confirms. Jones practiced as an immigration and refugee lawyer in Canada and represented over one thousand immigrants and refugee claimants in all stages of the immigration and refugee protection process. Martin is the managing editor of Refuge, a scholarly periodical on refugee issues. Jones has published and presented in various academic conferences particularly on the issue of Canadian Immigration and Refugee Law.
How does the private sponsorship program work? “In Canada, a private organization or a group of any five citizens can bring a recognized refugee into their community,” Jones tells me. It’s that simple—at least, in theory.
At that time, Canadian citizens responded in force to help Vietnamese refugees. But today, the private sponsorship program is almost forgotten. “There is a growing backlog for private [refugee] resettlement,” says Jones. “As a result, private applications are decreasing.” While it takes only a few months to verify sponsors, the selection of a refugee can take years. And if the sponsors select a specific individual, that time can spiral upwards, even beyond six years.
Sponsors must agree to help care for resettled individuals, both financially and emotionally, for up to one year. This is no small commitment. They are required to have access to $50,000, jointly, and be able to assist a refugee with integration—helping with language study and job searches, for example. “I haven’t in Canada five people for sponsorship,” an Iraqi friend tells me. “One friend’s family—just one. And the government needs $50,000 in the bank.”
However, countering the burden of that commitment is the fact that refugees from Iraq are often upper-middle class and well-equipped to enter the high-tech Canadian society. Most Iraqi refugees have post-secondary degrees, speak English, and drove private cars to office jobs. “Medical degrees are recognized but they will have to do residencies,” says Martin Jones. “Most post-secondary degrees will be recognized. The costs of [integrating] an Iraqi is much less than that of an average refugee.”
So, what is the problem? “Inattention is the barrier,” explains Jones. “There is simply a lack of government resources to achieve plans that are in place. People are trying to help.”
However, most private citizens aren’t aware of the sponsorship program and the Canadian government isn’t keen to advertise its existence. “The government’s priority is group resettlement from camps, like the Karan in Thailand.” Jones gives me a wry smile. “You get good bang for your buck. You can set up group training. It’s good PR—it makes a large impact on a community.” This happened recently when a large group of Palestinian Iraqis were brought to Toronto, to much public fanfare. But desperate people slip between the cracks with this single-minded approach. “Most Iraqis, right now, don’t fit into that.”
“I think public perception is that this is ‘not our war’,” Jones continues. “The government is sensitive to the perception that they’re cleaning up after the Americans—again. The Canadian government is attempting to distance itself from Iraq—trying to give the sense that we have moral freedom.”
Later that day I ran into m my Iraqi friend again. He’s excited. “Some friend told me: Canada will take two thousand refugees—Iraqis—this year. But I don’t know.” His face is wide and thoughtful.
This is true. In 2008, Citizenship and Immigration Minister Diane Finley said Canada will accept 1,800 to 2,000 Iraqi refugees and will raise its Middle East resettlement target to 3,000 people, up 54 per cent from 2007. According to the Toronto Star, each year 19 states resettle about 100,000 refugees; from that number Canada yearly resettles about 10,000 to 12,000 from 70 different nationalities, or about 10 per cent of all refugees resettled globally. I told him this information and he broke into a tentative smile.
But he quickly became pensive.
I couldn’t help but think he was doing the math. Two thousand out of more than two million Iraqi refugees—Canada was still no better than a distant flicker of hope. “My friend has a sister in Canada; I went to the embassy,” my friend says. “At the door—in front—they said, ‘Don’t go here. Go to the website.’ It’s no help. I need to talk to an officer, a counsellor.”
And I didn’t have the heart to tell him that even in Canada, such promises are often empty. Last year, Canada said they would accept 1700 people from Iraq but admitted only around 900. In 2006 about half of Iraqis sponsored by a private group in Canada had their applications refused by a Canadian visa officer. “I tell the UNHCR my sister is in Canada,” my friend continues. “They don’t care. I am sad. Yes, I need Canada. Immigration or as a refugee—any way to Canada.”
The beauty of initiatives like the Canadian Refugee Sponsorship program is that my friend can dare to dream of a better future—however distant. All he needs is your help.
