It was June of 1939 when the German transatlantic liner SS St. Louis pulled into a port in Miami. The ship contained over nine hundred Jews- all terrified for their future as they sought asylum from the horrors of Nazi Germany and the rapidly expanding Third Reich. The liner, already having been rejected by Cuba and Canada, was turned away from the United States and forced to return Europe. Franklin Delano Roosevelt spoke of “spies” among the refugees, while one Saturday Evening Post article warned, “disguised as refugees, Nazi agents have penetrated all over the world as spies…propagandists…or secret commercial agents.”For the United States government, it was a matter of national security. But for Jewish refugees, it was a matter of life and death- over a quarter of the passengers on SS St. Louis would be later be murdered in the Holocaust.
Flash forward to September 2015. The tiny, lifeless body of three-year old Aylan Kurdi washes ashore a Turkish beach. After being denied the opportunity to migrate legally to Canada, his family had made one last, desperate attempt to flee their embattled home of Syria: they embarked on a dangerous journey to Canada, paying thousands of dollars to journey across the sea in an overcrowded lifeboat. Along the way, their boat was capsized by violent waves. Alyan drowned, along with his older brother and his mother, as their father struggled to save them. Only six months after Alyan Kurdi’s body was discovered on the beach, Donald Trump made a statement to the media regarding Syrian refugee children: “I can look at their face and say you can’t come here… their parents have no documentation whatsoever…There’s absolutely no way of telling where these people come from…they may be ISIS, they may be ISIS related…We have enough problems.”
What do the Jewish refugees of the SS St. Louis and Syrian Aylan Kurdi and his family have in common? All were innocent people fleeing persecution, and all died, because the countries they sought refuge in viewed them as a threat and lacked the moral courage to welcome them.The circumstances of Jewish and Syrian refugees are far from a perfect comparison, but it is a comparison worth noting- though we are a country that promises to open its arms to “your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free”, we have not always lived up to our ideals. And each time we have failed to live up to our ideals, our actions were motivated by one thing- fear.
As Americans, it is easy to fall prey to fear-mongering, to xenophobia, and to racism. And it is understandable, in our post 9/11 world and amongst our current political climate, to distrust foreigners. Fear is easy. And fear is more than easy- it is understandable. But just because something is easy and understandable does not make it right. It is not right that helpless Syrian families are viewed as a danger and a threat, even as they are victimized by our common enemy, ISIS. It is not right that innocent children like Aylan Kurdi have to die as their families search for a better life. It is not right that refugees are associated with terrorism- even though incoming refugees are meticulously vetted before they can enter our country and the vast majority of terrorists enter our country through visas. It is not right that we view Syrian refugees as the dangerous “other”- simply because they are foreigners, or because they come from poverty, or because they are Muslims.
As human beings, we have a responsibility to take care of one another. This responsibility towards one another is embedded in the very core of our being- and it is a responsibility that defies borders and religion. Our refusal to welcome Jewish refugees when Germany was on the cusp of the Holocaust- a refusal we have lived to regret- has shown us the devastating consequences that come about when we abandon our responsibility. It’s time to learn from our mistakes and to let compassion overcome our fear. The lives of thousands of Syrian men, women, and children depend on us.
