Latest news with #InternationalOrganizationforMigration
France 24
4 days ago
- Politics
- France 24
Displaced Syrians leave camps to pitch tents near destroyed homes
"I feel good here, even among the rubble," Shamtan said, sipping tea at the tent near his field. When he and his son returned after Assad's December 8 overthrow, Shamtan found his village of Al-Hawash, nestled among farmland in central Hama province, badly damaged. The roof of their house was gone and its walls were cracked. But "living in the rubble is better than living in the camps" near the border with Turkey, where he had been since 2011 after fleeing the fighting, Shamtan said. Since Islamist forces ousted Assad after nearly 14 years of war, 1.87 million Syrians who were refugees abroad or internally displaced have returned to their areas of origin, the United Nations' International Organization for Migration says. The IOM says the "lack of economic opportunities and essential services pose the greatest challenge" for those returning home. Shamtan, who cannot afford to rebuild, decided around two months ago to leave the camp with his family and young grandchildren, and has started planting his farmland with wheat. Al-Hawash had been controlled by Assad's forces and was along the front lines with neighbouring Idlib province, which became a bastion for opposition factions, particularly Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the group that led the offensive that toppled Assad. 'Nothing here' "We can't stay in the camps," Shamtan insisted, even if "the village is all destroyed... and life is non-existent", lacking basic services and infrastructure. "We decided... to live here until things improve. We are waiting for organisations and the state to help us," he said. "Life is tough." Local official Abdel Ghafour al-Khatib, 72, has also returned after fleeing in 2019 with his wife and children for a camp near the border. "I just wanted to get home. I was overjoyed... I returned and pitched a worn-out tent. Living in my village is the important thing," he said. "Everyone wants to return," he said. But many cannot even afford the transport to do so in a country where 90 percent of people live in poverty. "There is nothing here -- no schools, no health clinics, no water and no electricity," Khatib said, sitting on the ground in the tent near the remains of his home. The war, which erupted in 2011 after Assad's brutal repression of anti-government protests, killed more than 500,000 people and displaced half of the pre-war population internally or abroad, with many fleeing to Idlib province. More than six million people remain internally displaced, according to the IOM. With the recent lifting of Western sanctions, Syria's new authorities hope for international support to launch reconstruction, which the UN estimates could cost more than $400 billion. IOM chief Amy Pope said on Monday that "the lifting of sanctions sends a powerful message of hope to millions of displaced Syrians", cautioning, however, that "hope must be matched with concrete support". 'No home' After being repeatedly displaced, Souad Othman, 47, returned with her three daughters and son to Al-Hawash around a week ago. "Everything has changed -- the homes are damaged and there is nothing left in their place," said Othman, whose husband died during the war. The roof of her home has collapsed and its walls are cracked, but she still chose to return, eking out a living through manual labour. A small bed sits out in the open, protected only by blankets on a clothesline, with a makeshift cooking area set up on the rubble. She said she borrowed $80 to pay for a battery for two solar panels. "There are snakes and insects here. We can't live without light during the night," she said. AFP aerial footage of camps in northwest Syria showed some former structures empty of residents. Jalal al-Omar, 37, who is responsible for part of a camp near the village of Qah in Idlib province, said around 100 families had left for his home village of Treimsa in the Hama region. But around 700 other families cannot afford to return, he said, also noting the lack of infrastructure in Treimsa, where people have to travel miles just to buy bread. "People don't want to stay in the camps, they want to return to their villages. But the lack of essential services... prevents their return," he said. "I myself have no home. I'm waiting... for a place to shelter in the village," he added.
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Displaced Syrians leave camps to pitch tents near destroyed homes
Aref Shamtan, 73, preferred to pitch a tent near his destroyed home in northwest Syria rather than stay in a camp for the displaced following longtime ruler Bashar al-Assad's ouster. "I feel good here, even among the rubble," Shamtan said, sipping tea at the tent near his field. When he and his son returned after Assad's December 8 overthrow, Shamtan found his village of Al-Hawash, nestled among farmland in central Hama province, badly damaged. The roof of their house was gone and its walls were cracked. But "living in the rubble is better than living in the camps" near the border with Turkey, where he had been since 2011 after fleeing the fighting, Shamtan said. Since Islamist forces ousted Assad after nearly 14 years of war, 1.87 million Syrians who were refugees abroad or internally displaced have returned to their areas of origin, the United Nations' International Organization for Migration says. The IOM says the "lack of economic opportunities and essential services pose the greatest challenge" for those returning home. Shamtan, who cannot afford to rebuild, decided around two months ago to leave the camp with his family and young grandchildren, and has started planting his farmland with wheat. Al-Hawash had been controlled by Assad's forces and was along the front lines with neighbouring Idlib province, which became a bastion for opposition factions, particularly Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the group that led the offensive that toppled Assad. - 'Nothing here' - "We can't stay in the camps," Shamtan insisted, even if "the village is all destroyed... and life is non-existent", lacking basic services and infrastructure. "We decided... to live here until things improve. We are waiting for organisations and the state to help us," he said. "Life is tough." Local official Abdel Ghafour al-Khatib, 72, has also returned after fleeing in 2019 with his wife and children for a camp near the border. "I just wanted to get home. I was overjoyed... I returned and pitched a worn-out tent. Living in my village is the important thing," he said. "Everyone wants to return," he said. But many cannot even afford the transport to do so in a country where 90 percent of people live in poverty. "There is nothing here -- no schools, no health clinics, no water and no electricity," Khatib said, sitting on the ground in the tent near the remains of his home. The war, which erupted in 2011 after Assad's brutal repression of anti-government protests, killed more than 500,000 people and displaced half of the pre-war population internally or abroad, with many fleeing to Idlib province. More than six million people remain internally displaced, according to the IOM. With the recent lifting of Western sanctions, Syria's new authorities hope for international support to launch reconstruction, which the UN estimates could cost more than $400 billion. IOM chief Amy Pope said on Monday that "the lifting of sanctions sends a powerful message of hope to millions of displaced Syrians", cautioning, however, that "hope must be matched with concrete support". - 'No home' - After being repeatedly displaced, Souad Othman, 47, returned with her three daughters and son to Al-Hawash around a week ago. "Everything has changed -- the homes are damaged and there is nothing left in their place," said Othman, whose husband died during the war. The roof of her home has collapsed and its walls are cracked, but she still chose to return, eking out a living through manual labour. A small bed sits out in the open, protected only by blankets on a clothesline, with a makeshift cooking area set up on the rubble. She said she borrowed $80 to pay for a battery for two solar panels. "There are snakes and insects here. We can't live without light during the night," she said. AFP aerial footage of camps in northwest Syria showed some former structures empty of residents. Jalal al-Omar, 37, who is responsible for part of a camp near the village of Qah in Idlib province, said around 100 families had left for his home village of Treimsa in the Hama region. But around 700 other families cannot afford to return, he said, also noting the lack of infrastructure in Treimsa, where people have to travel miles just to buy bread. "People don't want to stay in the camps, they want to return to their villages. But the lack of essential services... prevents their return," he said. "I myself have no home. I'm waiting... for a place to shelter in the village," he added. ohk-lk/lg/srm/fec
Daily News Egypt
5 days ago
- Politics
- Daily News Egypt
Israel's Gaza offensive enters Day 71 as death toll tops 54,000 amid mounting global pressure
As Israeli offensive in Gaza entered its 71st day since resuming in March, the humanitarian toll continues to escalate. According to Gaza's health authorities, the total number of Palestinians killed since October 2023 has risen to 54,056, with 129,123 reported injuries. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) reported that between 15-25 May, an estimated 180,000 people were forcibly displaced amid the intensifying Israeli offensive, adding to the staggering total of internal displacements in the besieged enclave. International concern is growing, particularly in Europe, where several governments have stepped up pressure on Israel to cease hostilities and allow the entry of life-saving humanitarian aid into Gaza, which remains under a complete Israeli blockade. On the ground, Israeli media reported that two Israeli soldiers were critically injured during armed clashes in Beit Lahiya in northern Gaza. The Al-Qassam Brigades, the military wing of Hamas, claimed responsibility for targeting an Israeli foot patrol in the Al-Atatra area with an anti-personnel shell, stating that multiple soldiers were killed or wounded. Diplomatic efforts are intensifying. An Egyptian official told Al-Qahera News that Cairo is engaged in 'intensive contacts' with relevant parties to secure a ceasefire as soon as possible. Coordination continues with Qatar and the United States on proposals for a truce and potential prisoner exchanges. On Tuesday, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi held a phone call with Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez. In a statement from the Egyptian presidency, both leaders condemned Israel's continued assault and warned against any attempts to forcibly displace Gaza's population. They jointly called for an immediate ceasefire, unimpeded humanitarian access, and stronger support for a two-state solution, including broader international recognition of a Palestinian state. The leaders also backed the Arab-Islamic plan for Gaza's reconstruction, emphasizing that it must occur without displacing the local population. The conversation also touched on broader regional concerns in Syria, Lebanon, and Libya, with both leaders underscoring their commitment to the sovereignty, unity, and stability of these nations. In Finland, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz expressed alarm over the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. Speaking alongside Finnish Prime Minister Petteri Orpo in Turku, Merz said he was 'horrified' by the suffering of civilians and called for immediate humanitarian relief. While reiterating Germany's unwavering support for Israel's right to exist, Merz suggested that the scale of recent Israeli operations may no longer align with the stated objectives of targeting militant groups or rescuing hostages. 'In recent days, what we've witnessed is not entirely justifiable in the context of Israel's self-defense,' he said. 'Civilians are suffering enormously. I believe any German government must speak to this with restraint—but also with honesty. What is happening is no longer comprehensible.' Merz also revealed that discussions are underway within the German government regarding future arms shipments to Israel, though no decision has been finalized. Meanwhile, Hamas issued a statement urging global intervention to halt what it described as a campaign of 'genocide and starvation'. The group called for 'global days of rage' from 30 May to 1 June, encouraging worldwide demonstrations in solidarity with Gaza and against the Israeli occupation. Hamas also praised recent global expressions of support for Palestinians and called for intensified pressure on Israel through all available diplomatic and civil society channels.
Yahoo
7 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Opinion - The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Hill
7 days ago
- Politics
- The Hill
The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy.
