A 'nation' with pride and purpose

With both resettlement and repatriation unlikely, the world's displaced people constitute the biggest refugee crisis in 70 years.

JULIO CORTEZ/AP
SYRIAN REFUGEE MOHAMAD BASSEL KHAIR CELEBRATES HIS MASTER’S DEGREE WITH FAMILY IN CLIFTON, N.J. THEY ARE SEEKING ASYLUM IN THE U.S.

In the ruins of World War II, people displaced by violence, intolerance, and destitution were everywhere – 8 million in Germany, 3 million in other parts of Europe, tens of millions throughout Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. It was the biggest refugee crisis in history, and it came at the end of a conflict of almost unimaginable brutality that left economies in shambles and cities, factories, and farms unable to provide for even the most basic needs.

Today, the world is largely at peace. There are no interstate wars of the kind that tore Europe and Asia apart 70 years ago. Everywhere, even in subsistence cultures, humans are more prosperous, productive, and interconnected than at any time in history. And yet there are more refugees today than during the dark days of 1945-46. There are now 60 million. If that were the population of a country, it would be equal to that of Italy, just below France and Britain.

The refugees of the 21st century are fleeing for the same reasons as those after World War II – violence, intolerance, destitution. What’s different now is that resettlement or repatriation is taking so long that for many it never occurs. Jews, Poles, Germans, Cossacks, Koreans, Japanese, Chinese, and millions more displaced by World War II restarted their lives relatively quickly.

Today, more than 80 percent of refugee crises last more than 10 years, and 40 percent last more than 20 years, according to a study published in the May issue of the journal Science. Host countries prevent refugee camps from becoming permanent to keep refugees from putting down roots, competing with local labor, or becoming a political force in their new country. That consigns refugees to life in flimsy tents and huts with little or no access to jobs, utilities, schools, or markets – “stranded in the present, left in a situation that is forever temporary rather than being able to resettle and craft a stable future,” as Science writer Elizabeth Cullen Dunn put it.

You’ve probably noticed that the Monitor (and other media) are writing a lot about refugees. That’s because of the unprecedented nature of the problem. In the past year, the Monitor has told the stories of refugees making the perilous journey from the Middle East to Europe; navigating a new culture in Clarkston, Ga.; finding new hope and a new home in Austria. We’ve also reported on the difficulties of assimilation and the attempts to blunt radicalism among some of the recent refugees in Europe, the Americas, and elsewhere.

In a Monitor cover story (click here), Ryan Lenora Brown introduces you to refugees who are determined to rise above their situations and compete in the Summer Olympics. This is a story about pride and purpose and a team that represents a virtual country the size of Italy.

“Refugee” should be a temporary descriptor, not a permanent condition. Every refugee should have the opportunity to thrive – back home or in a new home. Let’s applaud the refugee nation at the Games in Rio de Janeiro. Let’s applaud more when the refugee nation no longer exists.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.