Why St. Louis Should Embrace Syrian Refugees

In 1939, a passenger liner called the SS St. Louis carrying 908 refugees from Nazi Germany—almost all of them Jewish—was turned away from the shores of Miami by the U.S. Coast Guard after three days of frantic appeals.

Ultimately, 254 of those people would die in the Holocaust in the German-occupied nations of Western Europe to which they were returned. Indirectly, they were victims of tight U.S. immigration policies spurred by the American public’s national-security fears.

This little-known sliver of history was brought to light in the aftermath of the November 13 terrorist attacks in Paris. The political furor over whether to accept Syrian refugees in the wake of the tragedy was not without precedent.

It hit close to home for me.

In 1935, four years before passengers of the SS St. Louis were consigned to their fate, a 9-year-old girl named Hanne and her 11-year-old brother, Alfred, were among the lucky (and earliest) Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany to arrive in New York and become part of the American dream. They ultimately made it to our city, where two wonderful families raised them.

They were my mother and uncle.

So forgive me if I sit out the national hysteria over how Syrian refugees—mostly women and young children—represent such a grave threat to our safety. I can’t help thinking about what might have happened had my grandparents—who themselves were murdered in the Holocaust—not been able to send two of their children to safety in America.

There was a real difference between the experience of refugees aboard the SS St. Louis and those moving to the city of St. Louis. I’m proud that it was our country—and in particular, our city—that gave my mom and uncle their chance. And I hope that if 10,000 Syrian refugees are allowed to become part of the U.S. population, St. Louis will jump to the front of the line to embrace some of them as members of our community.

My family heritage is hardly unique. Immigrants and newcomers are the essence of St. Louis. Our city has been enriched by the diversity of its cultures: French, Irish, and German citizens who settled here in the early 19th century; Italians who made The Hill famous; African-Americans who migrated here from the South; southeast Asian refugees from Laos and Thailand who moved to St. Louis in the ’70s; Bosnians who arrived by the tens of thousands in the ’90s; and people from many more cultures.

That isn’t to suggest that the assimilation process is seamless. On the contrary, almost all ethnic groups have experienced serious challenges and, in some cases, bigotry and suffering while settling into St. Louis. We’re not one big happy family. Racial mistrust and segregation persist as our direst social scourge. There’s much that continues to separate people of different faiths and ethnicities.

On the other hand, St. Louis’ long-term mayor, Francis Slay, is an Arab-American whose family roots trace to Lebanon, Syria’s neighboring state. To his credit, Slay has been one of the few politicians forcefully championing the need to embrace Syrian refugees. St. Louis is a melting pot, and it should seize the opportunity to play a special role as a refuge for the victims of Syria’s civil war, even at a time when so many Americans are understandably upset about the threat of terrorism.

To date, St. Louis has only had about 30 families settle here as Syrian refugees. If you’re like me, you probably know little about them. Through the International Institute, a beacon for immigrants since the days of World War I, I was able to reach a Syrian-American who served as a translator for one of those Syrian refugees in a recent TV interview with FOX 2.

She is Maysa Albarcha, daughter of Dr. Mohamed Kuziez, who moved here from Syria 44 years ago to practice medicine and hasn’t left. One way to describe Maysa is as a “practicing Muslim woman of Syrian descent,” which would undoubtedly raise much fear for homeland security. Or you could describe her as “an American kid who grew up in the St. Louis area and is now a mother of four and a homemaker in Chesterfield.” That might sound a little less threatening.

In any event, she tells me that the Syrians who’ve arrived here in recent months—mostly of Kurdish and Christian backgrounds—are about as far as one can get from the stereotypical images conjured by the media hype about refugees.

“These are middle-class people who had two nice homes, two late-model cars, cellphones, and iPads,” Maysa says. “They lost all of that in the war and fled for their lives.”

In the FOX 2 interview, the Syrian man for whom she translated had this to say about the process: “[Homeland Security] didn’t leave a single stone unturned. They went through my life, from when I was born to the time I arrived in Turkey; where I went to school, where I worked, where I went to high school, what I did, who were my neighbors. Every part of my life was uncovered by the U.S. government before they brought me here. And I told them upfront if you find one hair about me that is indecent, then don’t bring me to the U.S. They were very thorough.”

FOX 2 also interviewed a Syrian housewife, who said, “We are people who don’t like trouble. We left a country that was full of trouble and war and crime and we came here seeking peace, and now we feel like we have caused more trouble, even though it’s not our fault. We feel like there is going to be more trouble for us, so we are worried and scared, but at the same time we feel like the American people are pretty understanding.”

Maysa says she doesn’t encounter great bigotry here; she’s optimistic that the general public isn’t as reactionary as politicians and media outlets portray. She likens her Syrian heritage to that of someone from Greece. “Sometimes my life is a little like My Big Fat Syrian Wedding,” she says.

She is laughing as she says this. But the larger issues are no laughing matter to Maysa or anyone else who sees the human toll of wars and terrorism plaguing the Middle East and beyond.

The closer you are to the people, the more you see their humanity. And the more you realize that most Syrian refugees are the victims, not the terrorists. Though we can all agree that the world needs to be freed from the scourge of the monstrous criminals of ISIS, the last thing we need is for politicians to exploit fears by mischaracterizing the refugee process.

To get to the United States, Syrian refugees must clear a labyrinth of intense vetting. First, they must qualify as refugees under international law by the Office of the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees and receive a referral to the United States. Then, one of the U.S. Department of State’s Resettlement Support Centers must compile the refugees’ data and background information and initiate a process with the Department of Homeland Security that entails numerous interviews and security reviews, including the use of a Consular Lookout and Support System and, if necessary, another security review called a Security Advisory Opinion (SAO). If an SAO is needed, even more law enforcement and intelligence agencies are involved.

It’s not a walk in the park. The marathon process takes 18 to 24 months. It has to be the least efficient and most illogical means possible for ISIS to export its evil. Meanwhile, pandering politicians have paid less attention (at least initially) to the real danger posed by granting visa waivers.

Terrorism is a grave problem for the civilized world, but vilifying the victims of the terrorists—and granting the likes of ISIS undue legitimacy by framing this as a war against Islam rather than against criminals—is precisely the wrong strategy. The odds of a terrorist slipping through the rigorous refugee process are much lower than those of someone already in our country becoming radicalized by seeing the Muslim religion miscast by politicians as a terrorist operation.

In the era of Nazi Germany, the Saturday Evening Post gravely warned—in a story prepared with the State Department’s cooperation—that, “disguised as refugees, Nazis have penetrated all over the world, as spies, fifth columnists, propagandists, or secret commercial agents.”

Too many victims suffered or died because of that nonsense. I’m glad my mom and uncle weren’t among them. And when I consider the fact that I now have a 9-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son—precisely the ages that Hanne and Alfred Bromet were when they survived all odds to make it to St. Louis and build good lives—I really hope that we don’t lose sight of the humanity in the tragedy that has unfolded for kids like them in Syria.

We need to open our hearts to those Syrian refugees. And St. Louis should be proud to do for them what it did for my family.

SLM co-owner Ray Hartmann is a panelist on KETC Channel 9’s Donnybrook, which airs Thursdays at 7 p.m.