Election night could provide a quick White House winner, or a flood of mail-in ballots and social division could delay results for weeks
Few can boast of opening a new business during a pandemic, but Mohamad Hafez did just that. This summer he launched Pistachio, a French baroque, salon-styled coffee shop in West Haven, Conn., serving Turkish coffee, cold brew, and baklava.
The architect-turned-artist-turned-barista could be your classic millennial—an overachiever with good taste, fitted suits, and bookish glasses. He designed a 48-story office tower in Houston’s central business district. When construction began in 2014, it was one of the largest spec projects in the world.
Hafez checks other boxes too: He is Arab, Muslim, Syrian, and a forced migrant. After the al-Qaeda attacks of 9/11, those markers meant extra scrutiny for U.S. entry, and understandable suspicion. Congress and federal agencies have since beefed up security and vetting protocols. Most refugees now spend at least 2-3 years in the United States’ admission process, awaiting multiple interviews, security screenings, and health checks. Hafez spent eight years in limbo but now is a U.S. citizen.
Despite the enhancements, President Donald Trump has continued to incite fear over “an influx of refugees,” bypassing Congress and upending private resettlement agencies that partner with the government. Refugee admissions have hit historic lows, with fewer than 11,000 refugees admitted during the fiscal year that ended Oct. 1.
Trump also bypassed statutory mandates for consultation with Congress in setting annual caps on refugee admissions. On Sept. 30 the administration sent its report to Capitol Hill, leaving no time as the new fiscal year began the next day. It set a 2021 cap at 15,000 refugees—the lowest in history. That’s down from 2020’s 18,000 cap. (Actual intake over the last four years has hovered around half the annual cap.)
Dozens of agencies and churches involved in refugee resettlement—including the National Association of Evangelicals and Bethany Christian Services—petitioned the Trump administration to return the cap to 95,000 refugees in 2021. That’s the 40-year average limit set under five presidents since passage of the Refugee Act of 1980.
Despite broad support from evangelical voters, on this issue Trump has moved decidedly against them, leaving persecuted Christians in the lurch. State Department figures show a 66 percent decline in admissions since 2016 from the top 11 countries where Christians face “extreme persecution.” For believers escaping Pakistan or Iran, the shutdown has been near total—a 90-95 percent drop in refugee admissions.
Thus 120,000 refugees await U.S. resettlement: refugees in camps, and displaced people who cannot easily reverse the process to apply for resettlement to other countries. Further, the State Department announced on Oct. 1 plans to change or eliminate on Oct. 9 publicly available refugee admissions data reports—handicapping Congress, the media, and advocacy groups in watchdogging the process.
The outlook for Mohamad Hafez’s family is typical for Christians and Muslims. His parents live in the U.S., but his three siblings each live in different countries.
“We always think of refugees in the abstract,” he said in a 2018 TED Talk. Hafez began creating artistic miniatures, tableaus re-creating household scenes from war-ravaged Syria, all set inside open suitcases to symbolize the plight of those uprooted by nearly a decade of war. The exhibition, titled Unpacked: Refugee Baggage, has criss-crossed the globe, paired with audio recordings of actual refugee stories.
“There’s a perception out there that immigrants and refugees leave no established lives behind. They have nothing to lose, and they are coming across to take people’s wealth and jobs.”
But many like Hafez are trained professionals who love their homelands. At a Greek camp in 2016, I met a refugee family that owned three houses in Syria and a prosperous construction company. They had lost everything, and their daughter nearly drowned while they fled in a boat. They cannot return to their bombed-out neighborhoods without facing danger and poverty.
Refugee policy doesn’t have to be a politicized issue. Unlike stymied immigration policy, the 1980 Refugee Act has been modified under both parties’ leadership. Lawmakers and presidents have found common cause in caring for the exiles or sojourners Scripture repeatedly highlights. Doing so can enhance both our national security and our witness as citizens and churches.