A paradise without people. Ambivalence in representations of migration and its outcomes when Syrian refugees talk about secondary migration to Europe

ABSTRACT

This article investigates perceptions of secondary migration to Europe and North America among Syrian refugees in Jordan and Lebanon. Building on Ann Swidler's (1986) theory of cultural repertoires, I approach migration as one of several strategies that refugees may choose from, and ask which kinds of life goals they link to a strategy of secondary migration. The refugees' narratives reflect ambivalence in their perceptions of what secondary migration to Europe may entail; the economic security of refuge in Europe is tempting for many, but migration to Europe is also negatively associated with aid dependence. Although some think access to education and European labour markets can secure the future for their children, many talk of Western individualism as a negative influence that may lead to family dissolution. While some thirst for the liberal rights available in Western democracies, there is also fear that moving to Europe will limit their opportunities to practise their Muslim faith. The article demonstrates that secondary migration is not only associated with positive outcomes and suggests that there may be self-selection effects in what subgroups of refugees seek migration to Europe. The article draws on qualitative interviews among Syrian refugees in Jordan and Lebanon conducted in 2019.

KEYWORDS:

• Refugee migration
• secondary migration
• cultural repertoires
• Jordan
• Lebanon

Introduction

The main focus in migration research has been on explaining mobility. However, in some contexts, the challenge may not be to understand why people aspire to migrate, but rather why so many do not. Refugees who opt to remain in countries that do not recognise them as refugees nor give them access to basic rights and services is an example of non-mobility that may appear puzzling. Neither Jordan nor Lebanon have ratified the refugee convention and Syrian refugees who have sought refuge there after the Syrian civil war broke out in 2011, live with major insecurities (Chatty 2018). Their right to stay is deemed temporary or even illegallised, their access to labour markets and education is limited, and there are widespread reports of harassment, poverty and marginalisation.¹ Syrians who reached Europe after the outbreak of war in Syria have normally been granted refugee status and access to labour markets, healthcare, education, social support, and even, in many cases, permanent residency. In light of these differences in access to rights, we could expect a strong interest in secondary migration to Europe. However, survey data show that two thirds of Syrian refugees in Jordan have never considered moving on to Europe or other Western countries (Tyldum and Zhang In review). Moreover, according to the Norwegian Directorate of Immigration (UDI), among the Syrian refugee families considered for resettlement to Norway (the majority from Lebanon), one in 10 families withdraw their application, either after the initial interview and receiving information about the country of destination, or after an offer of resettlement is given.²

This article looks at this apparent paradox and asks what shapes the aspirations these refugees have to migrate and to stay. To understand their migration aspirations, I draw on several theoretical perspectives including some developed to understand economic migration. In doing this, I do not suggest that the refugees are not ‘real refugees’ or that their need for protection is in any way diminished by their desire to stay or move on. The ability and opportunity to exercise agency in migration decisions does not disqualify one from refugee status (Tyldum and Zhang In review). The article aims to contribute to a growing body of literature that responds to the mobility bias in migration research (Schewel 2020) and emphasises the importance of recognising that migration aspirations are shaped not only by ‘push and pull’ factors, but also by those that ‘retain and repel’ (Schewel 2020) – reasons for wanting to stay or reasons to avoid certain destinations. If they are able to reach a country that has ratified the refugee convention, refugee status opens doors that are closed to many other migrants (FitzGerald and Arar 2018), and having left behind property, careers and sometimes also networks in their country of origin, refugees normally have fewer economic and practical factors holding them back in their current place of residence. Consequently refugee mobility raises other questions, and indicates other patterns of mobility, than what is commonly found in studies of other migrant populations. However, this far migration decisions and migration aspiration in refugee populations is understudied in migration research.

Migration aspirations and migration strategies

There are several approaches to the study of migration aspirations (Aslany et al. 2021), and it not uncommon to ask migrants and aspiring migrants directly if and why they want to move (see for instance Akesson and Coupland 2018; Kvittingen et al. 2018a). Such an approach can be well suited for studying explanations and legitimations that are commonly articulated by refugees. There are, however, several limitations in using the reasons the migrants present themselves to understand the social processes that shape migration aspirations. When asked about the reasons behind their actions, most individuals can and do formulate explanations, however, these are only intelligible in light of the unformulated background knowledge that the actor takes for granted (Bourdieu 1977). Some social mechanisms that influence action in a society can, for instance, be perceived as ‘natural’ or ‘obvious’, and therefore not presented in an interview. The reasons for not wanting to migrate are typically part of behaviours that are not much talked about. We rarely feel we have to legitimate absence of change, and thus, the factors that retain and repel (Schewel 2020), and induce us to not want to move, are less likely to be emphasised when people talk about migration.

Interpreting the migrants’ own explanations for their migration aspirations is also challenging because many hesitate to talk about actions or motives that are stigmatised or disapproved of in their local community. Leaving, being left behind and returning carry inherent moral dimensions and certain forms of migration or migration-related behaviour may be condemned or looked down upon (Carling 2008; Fitzgerald 2009). Migration may be attributed a high status – at least for some groups or some migration practices (Ali 2007; Cohen and Sirkeci 2011) – but it can also be morally contested tied to culturally embedded and gendered notions of decency and respectability. People know and talk about, for instance, academics who go abroad and degrade themselves cleaning toilets, or earn money through prostitution or other practices perceived as immoral or even illegal, elderly people who die alone while their children are away, and spouses and children left behind when the migrant finds a new partner abroad (Tyldum 2015). Such negative evaluations are also part of the way people understand and interpret migration and actions associated with it. When people talk of their own migration aspirations or migration experiences, their narratives must be interpreted in light of implicit accusations of selfishness or immorality that can be associated with migration for some social groups. To defend themselves from such implicit accusations, they may be more inclined to draw on narratives that portray their actions as understandable, defensible, or even admirable. One way of doing this is to argue an absence of choice – that their circumstances forced them to go abroad, or that their action could be understood as a sacrifice for the good of their family.

While underlying moral evaluations of migration can make it difficult to use the respondents’ own explanations for migration directly in our analysis, mapping these local understandings of migration can be key to understanding variations in migration aspirations. One way of doing this is to investigate local perceptions of what migration means in social groups where widespread migration takes place. People do not only learn how to migrate in their communiteis, they also learn to aspire to migrate (Ali 2007). People’s migration aspirations draw on particular understandings of migration available in their local community, understandings of what kind of goals can be reached through migration, what groups are likely to succeed, and what the potential risks and downsides to migration are. Rather than asking why individuals choose to migrate, we can tap into these local understandings of migration and ask for whom migration is an available action, and what kind of life goals migration is perceived as being a strategy for reaching.

To do this, I draw on Ann Swidler’s (1986) theory of cultural repertoires. In this perspective, culture (understood as systems of meaning, including beliefs, language, gossip, stories and rituals of daily life) shapes action, not primarily by shaping the goals of our actions, but by shaping the strategies we draw on in our attempts to achieve these goals (Swidler 1986). Migration is one of several strategies the refugees have in their ‘cultural repertoires’ and may consider in order to achieve their life goals. Not all who choose migration share the same life goals, and not all who share the same life goals choose the same strategies to achieve them. What strategy is perceived to be appropriate in a given situation will depend on the migrants’ access to resources and the roles they have in society, shaped by key social institutions and identities, including families, class and gender (Portes 2010). People can and do choose strategies perceived to be unavailable to them, however, most do not, due to the social cost of making such a choice.

Thinking of international migration as a strategy rather than an action or an end goal in itself enables us to better appreciate the varied functions migration can have in people’s lives. It also accentuates the importance of shared knowledge in a society in shaping aspirations and choices. When we device strategies of action we draw on the experiences of other people in our community and copy behaviours that we perceive as successful. But the choice of strategy is not necessarily understood as an explicit choice between alternative actions – strategies may be chosen because they are perceived to be common sense, in line with tradition, or recommended as part of ideologies (Swidler 1986). Some social groups may feel that migration is expected of them – as in the case of unemployed breadwinners in some high migration areas (Tyldum 2015). Others will not even contemplate migration, thinking that it is not for ‘people like me’. Who migration is perceived as being available to will differ greatly between cultural settings; while in some societies women are more likely to migrate then men, in others, migration is not perceived as available to women at all. Migration can also be perceived as mainly available to particular population groups linked to class, ethnicity and marital status.

Migration aspirations and opportunities for migration among Syrian refugees

Until recently, limited attention was given to the study of migration decision-making among refugees and, for a long time, refugees studies and migration studies were treated as two distinct bodies of academic research (FitzGerald and Arar 2018). Migration studies rarely included refugee populations, and in refugee studies, aspirations for mobility were taken for granted, and conceptualised as forced, spontaneous and unpredictable (Chatty 2010). In later years, the literature has increasingly acknowledged the mixed nature of much refugee migration (Akesson and Coupland 2018; Crawley and Skleparis 2018; Erdal and Oeppen 2018). Although there is less room for choice during initial movements out of conflict zones, once the refugees are in safe first countries of destination, their subsequent migration decisions can have more in common with migration for labour or family reunification (FitzGerald and Arar 2018).

Just like other migrants, refugees who consider secondary migration need to have both the capabilities and aspirations to do so (Carling and Schewel 2018; De Haas 2014). Some may aspire to migrate without having the capabilities to do so (Carling 2002), while others have the capabilities to migrate but choose not to (Schewel 2020). Importantly, the desire to migrate will depend on the modes of migration available; entering Europe illegally and staying and working without legal documents is conceptually very different from travelling with a work visa or through a resettlement programme. Legal opportunities to go to Europe are relatively limited for Syrian refugees in Jordan and Lebanon. The UNHCR has resettlement programmes from both countries but the chances of being offered resettlement are slim. The refugees are largely aware of how limited their opportunities for resettlement are (Kvittingen et al. 2018) and in our interviews, many acknowledge that they will need to rely on other strategies if they are to move to Europe. Beyond resettlement, there are few opportunities for legal entry into Europe; some countries offer scholarships to Syrian refugees and some refugees are able to find skilled work and enter with work visas. However, such opportunities are only available to a small minority with good networks, resources and skills. The refugees interviewed for this study would mainly have to cross borders illegally in order to reach Europe. Those who enter Europe illegally can do so on a ‘budget’ if they are able and willing to walk much of the way on foot and only pay smugglers for help at border crossings. Others are able to pay for documents that enable them to fly into Europe. The more the refugees are able to pay, the lower the risk associated with the journey (Eborka and Oyefara 2016). Once in Europe, Syrian refugees would, at the time when these interviews were conducted (spring/summer 2019), normally be considered in need of protection and be granted asylum with the right to stay in Europe. Obtaining asylum in Europe has – since a large influx of migrants in 2015 – become more difficult and time consuming, and refugees who come as asylum seekers now typically receive fewer rights and benefits, and in some countries, only temporary residency. Still, access to rights and benefits for those recognised as refugees, would overall, be better in Europe than in Jordan or Lebanon.

The analysis in this article does not thematise opportunities for migration explicitly, but focus on the ways the refugees talk about going to Europe in general. Some talk about resettlement while others talk about those who entered Europe irregularly. The refugees themselves do not distinguish clearly between the two when they talk about others who have left; the idea of what life in Europe brings is at the fore and only a few bring up the cost of travelling or dangers of the journey in the interviews.

Methodology

The article draws on 27 interviews with a total of 40 Syrian refugees in Amman in Jordan and the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon (where the density of Syrian refugees is highest in the two countries). Fieldwork was conducted during the spring and summer of 2019. Respondents were recruited through several different organisations, healthcare workers and networks, aiming to maximise variation in the sample in wealth, age, marital status, education level and gender. In Jordan, 20 percent of Syrian refugees live in one of several camps, and this population differs from the non-camp population along several dimensions (Tiltnes, Zhang, and Pedersen 2019). In order to not introduce too many levels of comparison to the analysis, interviews were conducted solely in the non-camp population.³ In Lebanon, most Syrian refugees live in urban areas and informal settlements in the countryside. All respondents referred to themselves as refugees, however, 10 respondents (all men) lived in Jordan/Lebanon before the outbreak of war.

Interviews were either conducted in the respondents’ homes or, in a few instances, in their workplaces, and lasted from 30 minutes to two hours. Most respondents were interviewed alone but as the refugees often inhabit small tents or apartments with only one room, couples and families sometimes had to be interviewed together. In Lebanon, one group interview comprised five male construction workers. Interviews were structured as short life/migration histories, asking respondents to talk about their background in Syria, conditions of life in refuge in Jordan/Lebanon, and their plans for the future. If the respondents did not bring up migration themselves, I asked if they knew someone who had moved to North America or Europe and if so, to describe the acquaintance’s life there. I then asked about their own preferences for migration. Returning to Syria, staying and moving on to other locations were prominent considerations in many interviews, but some were more eager to talk about migration than others.

All interviews were conducted by me in person, assisted by local translators or research assistants. Interviews were taped, transcribed and translated. The (anonymised) transcripts were then coded in NVIVO using thematic analysis, a method for systematically identifying, organising and offering insights into patterns of meaning in data (Braun and Clarke 2012). The aim was to identify the main themes that respondents bring up and to identify and make sense of shared meanings (or ‘master narratives’) and experiences. Open questions allowed the respondents to recount their life and migration stories while bringing in the themes they felt relevant for explaining strategies and current conditions of life.

Talk of migration – two major themes

When I have previously interviewed non-migrants in areas with high levels of outmigration, far from all are able to talk much about what migration entails or who it is suitable for. Some simply have not given it much thought and have never considered it for themselves (see for instance Djuve et al. 2015; Tyldum 2015). This was not the case for the Syrian refugees I interviewed in Jordan and Lebanon. Secondary migration to Europe or North America was something they all related to and something many had considered at some point. Most had indicated in their interviews with the UNHCR that they were interested in resettlement, and they all knew Syrians who had moved to Europe or North America after the outbreak of war. Their Facebook feeds and other social media accounts were filled with pictures and stories of Syrians who had made it to the West, making the lives of Syrians abroad an often-recurring topic when friends meet up and a source of gossip, worry and envy among Syrians still in the Middle East.

There are two overarching themes that most respondents touch upon when they talk about refugees in Europe. The most prominent of these is the economic prosperity that friends and relatives who have moved to Europe or North America enjoy. They talk about nice houses, computers and access to healthcare, consumer items and services that they themselves can only dream of in their current situation. In Facebook feeds and other social media, the images of the economic comfort of those who have left are hard to escape. Rania, a married mother of three living in Amman, told me about the video calls they have with her husband’s brother, who now lives in Canada. She describes images of computers, nicely dressed children and stories of outings in calls that leave the whole family envious (see Extract 1).

Extract 1: Rania (f), aged 32. Married with three children, in Jordan.

Interviewer:

Has anybody from your family gone to Europe⁴?

Rania:

Yes, his brother [points at husband]. When my brother-in-law talks to my husband and shows him his kids, the computers, the trips, the gifts and things like that. I mean, the kids tell him, ‘Yes, we want to travel, let's travel’. Even the kids want it.

The second theme that appears in most interviews is that going to Europe or North America can lead to loneliness, cultural alienation and social exclusion. My respondents describe in different ways how moving away from the Middle East involves a social cost. Although they may never have been outside the Middle East themselves, they talk about the discomfort of living in a country with strange customs, the difficulties of not knowing the language, the strain of living the rest of your life as an outsider who does not really fit in and the sorrow of being deprived of contact with extended family and networks in the Middle East. ‘You know, at the end of the day, they go back and sleep alone’, Hassan (25) tells me when I ask if his friends who left for Europe in 2015 are happy now. Hassan and his friend, Naadir, have many friends who have gone to Europe. They claim they had the opportunity to join them when they left but chose to stay because they did not want to live that far away from their family. They believe that those who left regret it now, because even if you make new friends ‘over there’, they can never replace your family.⁵

Extract 2: Naadir (24) and Hassan (25). Unmarried, working in the markets in Lebanon.

Hassan:

I told her [mother] that travel was available to me and that I wanted to travel with my friends and so on. With tears in her eyes, she said ‘I will not stand in the way of your happiness, God be with you’. But it was done, when I saw the tears in her eyes, my hands were tied, I couldn't travel.

[…]

 

Naadir:

Okay, so they went there, and they are safe, and they are comfortable and have money and don't need anyone, but they lost their family, lost their mothers … 

Hassan:

They're suffocating and want to come back.

[…]

 

Hassan:

We have a proverb that says that ‘a paradise without people should not be entered’. So, going to Europe is like living in an empty house.

Nadir and Hassan emphasise the importance of having extended family around you and that going to Europe entails losing this. They talk of Saturday brunches with the extended family as the highlight of the week, the event that makes all the work worthwhile.

It is not only the loss of family that people talk of as a social loss. Some also talk of the problems of adapting to a foreign culture, of not being understood and not understanding others. In Extract 3 below, Fatima argues that being in a place where people around you are very different from you makes you unhappy. She thinks that the people who have left for Europe regret it and want to come back.

Extract 3: Fatima (45). Widowed first wife (of two wives) in a family with 3 children in Lebanon

Interviewer:

What do you mean? They are financially OK, but not happy?

Fatima:

Because there are no social events or visits  …  They don’t have people around them  …  They don't have relationships with people that are similar to them – that they feel harmonious with. Now, you and I can understand each other [talking to translator], but she and I cannot [pointing at me, the European interviewer]. You know? Here we all speak the same language, we socialise the same way, we have the same life, even though we don’t know each other, we are not like strangers […].

Interviewer:

Do they say this [that they are not happy] to you directly, or do you just understand it from the way they talk?

Fatima:

They say it directly. They said: ‘In Lebanon, it's true there was hunger and humiliation, but it's still better than living abroad’.

This idea of cultural similarity and difference is also an important theme the refugees draw on when they explain why they chose to go to Lebanon or Jordan when they had to flee. Many had worked in the region for a long time already and knew both people there and the culture. Others argue that the proximity to their hometown was the main factor. They believe that because dialects and traditions are similar, it would be easier to fit in and make it on their own.

These two themes of economic prosperity and social inclusion appear in almost all interviews when the refugees talk of other migrants who have gone to Europe. Yet when they talk of their own migration aspirations, they draw on these themes in different ways. Below I describe how the two themes are made relevant for three different sets of life goals when my respondents talk about their own migration ambitions or the absence of such: the importance of economic independence, the successful upbringing of children, and maintaining a traditional way of life.

Life goal 1: Economic independence vs economic aid

When my respondents talk of the economic prosperity of those who go to Europe, they focus on the consumption of goods and services and not on ways of earning. They talk of how people who go to Europe are given houses, computers and free healthcare, but never of people who have succeeded with their own business or found good employment. It is not the production side of economic security that is key to these narratives. Some respondents even explicitly point out that, as a refugee in Europe, you will get the things you need but you do not have to – or are not allowed to – work. Malik and Zara live in a refugee settlement in Lebanon and are completely dependent on UN aid. Malik has health issues and cannot work, and he does not want his wife to work unless she can get a skilled job (as a teacher). They say going to Europe is tempting – not because of the employment opportunities it brings, but because of the high levels of welfare benefits given to refugee households.

Extract 4: Malik (28) and Zara (29). Married couple without children, refugee settlement in Lebanon.

Malik:

Those who went there are economically secure. They gave them homes.

Zara:

And they get regular payments as well.

Malik:

They are not allowed to work. They don't have to work.

The dream of economic security, of beautiful houses with nice furniture and enough space, and of bicycles, toys or even computers for the children is verbalised in most interviews, and they all see migration as a strategy that can give access to all of this. Given the economic scarcity that many live with in refuge in Jordan and Lebanon, it is not hard to understand that the high standard of living in Europe appears tempting to many. Laila explains in her interview how she believes access to this would make her worry less. She has a university education from Syria and lives in an apartment in Amman with her three children. Her husband is in the Azrak camp after he was caught working without a permit. They get food coupons and some basic support from the UN, but this is barely enough to cover basic needs, and they want more for themselves and their children. But this is the second time her husband is arrested for working. The economic insecurity merges with the general feeling of insecurity from not having a proper residence permit, and she feels that she is worried all the time. She believes that life must be much easier ‘over there’.

Extract 5: Laila (38). Married mother of three, in Amman, Jordan – husband sent to the Azrak camp for working without a permit

Over there, you would be less stressed. You would have fewer responsibilities; for example, here you think: ‘I have to work, otherwise I won't be able to pay rent’. Or, ‘if I go out, a police officer will arrest me’. Or, ‘I don't know if I'm breaking the law’. I mean, there are a lot of fears. I mean, you will have fewer things to worry about over there.

To Malik and Zara, getting money without working is tempting, as he is in bad health and they do not think women should engage in unskilled work. To Laila, constantly worrying about the economy and security situation burdens her, and this burden she believes would be less if she goes to Europe.

Yet there is an ambivalence when Syrian refugees talk of the prospects of welfare benefits associated with going to Europe. Some express more reluctance about going to Europe because of this – in particular, respondents who have been able to find some kind of work while in refuge and are more ambitious (on behalf of themselves and not only their children). Ibrahim is a Syrian carpenter who has been able to establish a small business in Lebanon. Things are far from easy, but he is working hard and is able to support his family and has even bought an old car. Ibrahim answers no when I ask if he would like to go to Europe. He tells me that he has networks abroad but that these networks do not consist of the right kind of people (see Extract 6). When he talks of his need for networks abroad, he is not talking about the same kind of networks as in the narratives of loneliness and social inclusion above. Ibrahim needs people who can help him start a business and who would be clients or could put him in contact with potential clients. He explains that if you do not have the right kinds of network, and you do not know the culture, you will never achieve anything. And to Ibrahim, providing for his family is a central life goal – having access to food and shelter is not enough in itself.

Extract 6: Ibrahim (38). Married, carpenter in Lebanon.

Interviewer:

Would you like to move to Europe?

Ibrahim:

For me, no. I don't have anyone there. I have a friend who travelled to Britain, a friend from Homs. He went through the UN. If they gave him the option of going back to Greece, he would. Why? He used to work in Greece before the crisis. You have to go where you are used to working and have acquaintances.

Interviewer:

Why?

Ibrahim:

Because of the language, he speaks Greek. And he knows people he worked with. In Britain, he says, it's true that he has food and shelter, but he isn't comfortable there.

It is mainly men who vocalise this importance of economic independence and reluctance to live off aid, and if the women bring this up, they talk of their husband’s reluctance to receive aid from the UN. For these men it is central to their male identity to be a breadwinner, and for them to live a life with dignity, they believe it is important to be able to work and provide for their family. Achmed is among the men who say they dislike the idea of being a burden to other people. There is no dignity in receiving aid, he says. He has a war injury that makes him work a bit slower than others and he fears that in Europe nobody would hire him because of this. To Achmed, not being able to work and being a burden on others is a worse prospect than staying in Lebanon with limited incomes and rights.

Extract 7: Achmed (54). Married painter, with war injury in Lebanon

We are not a people who are used to being a burden on others. We want to work, to toil and earn in dignity. It's better to die than become a burden. Meanwhile, if we are to go there, we become a burden on their society, and they spend on us  …  no, this is  … 

[…]

Not everyone is OK with this. We are a people with dignity, who struggle and love work, but we all have our problems in life … I have metal plates in my back, how can I go work there? I can barely work here, how can I do it there?

As the above extracts illustrates, the economic prosperity associated with going to Europe is also associated with economic dependence. The refugees do not talk of going to Europe as a strategy for finding good jobs or starting their own business. For those who see economic independence as a key life goal, going to Europe is not a strategy for obtaining this, in particular for men with skills or education that provide some opportunity for earning money in Jordan/Lebanon. For others, migration to Europe a strategy they think can provide welcome relief, and an opportunity to get a break from the constant worrying about making ends meet. Going to Europe is not understood as a strategy for success, but a strategy for getting by.

Life goal 2: Securing the future for your children vs securing the integrity of the family

In households with children, the children’s education was often brought up when respondents talked about their strategies for the future. Although there are several reports of problems of food security among Syrians in Lebanon and Jordan (Daher 2016; Tiltnes, Zhang, and Pedersen 2019), none of my respondents claimed that they were afraid of going hungry, as the UN and other aid organisations had ensured that basic food security was established. However, many worried about other costs and, in particular, children’s schooling and their access to higher education. This was the case for Zara. She is trained as a librarian herself, and compared with many other Syrians in Jordan, she is quite ambitious on behalf of her three sons. ‘ … It feels like the future for those who have children is abroad’, she says. Migration is not something she desires for herself, but she cannot see how she will be able to get her sons a decent education if she stays.

Extract 8: Zara (34). Married mother of three in Amman, Jordan.

I wouldn’t have considered it for myself  …  just for my kids; I want to secure my children's future. Because over here … Honestly, I can't pay for their education; I can't afford it. I mean, even the citizens of this country are struggling. I mean, everything is expensive. You have to pay for university education. And I can't afford it, to be honest. So, I hope I get resettled for my kids; to secure their future.

I mean, it feels like the future of those who have kids is abroad; they learn languages, study  …  and they take care of children. I mean, if he suffers from a psychological problem, they help him.

Many talk of the benefits of free schooling and access to higher education as reasons for secondary migration. The same respondents also often talk about access to healthcare and psychological treatment for children with war traumas. Several respondents talked of children who had developed speech impediments such as stuttering or stopping talking after the war and flight. Others told of older children that were still bed-wetting and other indications of PTSD in children. The respondents who brought this up all worried that their children would not get the help they needed if they stayed but were convinced that such help would be offered if they went to Europe.⁶

Those who wanted to go to Europe for the sake of the children do not necessarily think it would be beneficial for themselves to go. As Zara claimed above – if she had not had children, she would not have been interested in resettlement. Rachid, on the other hand, a married man in his late 40s, thinks he can provide for his children in Lebanon and believes he does not have to move on. He has been able to earn a bit working as a carpenter since arriving in Lebanon and is training his oldest son to take over his business. He lives with his family of five children in one of the larger and more elaborate tents in the refugee settlement, with two cows and a small field. He tells us that he and his family were offered resettlement a few years back but he decided not to go. He gives several reasons⁷ for this; among these was the fear that the Western culture would make it difficult to keep the family together. He fears that if they go, his children, influenced by the individualist culture, would not be as dependent on him and their family and therefore not feel the responsibility to care for them in old age. What good is all the money in the world, he asks, if you do not have your children around you when you are old and sick?

Extract 9: Rachid (49). Married carpenter with five children in Lebanon.

The biggest issue is that when you get there, you can no longer expect anything from your son or your daughter or rely on them. It is this cultural difference between us and Western societies.

[…] I cannot live alone or go to an old people’s home, for example. In our society, as you know, the father takes care of his children no matter what, even when they grow up and have children, we have to keep helping them. And similarly, they have to repay us the help. These are the teachings of Islam. This does not exist in the West. This is the main thing for me, to live in this tent surrounded by my children, and if my daughters come to visit me when I'm old  …  Or even if I'm sick, if they don't ask about how I am, it breaks my heart. So, imagine, even if I own everything in the world, if my children don't visit me when I'm old and sick … 

Both Rachid and Zara see going to Europe as a strategy that will give their children opportunities that they would not get in the Middle East. However, they do not think this will be beneficial for themselves. Zara says she does not want to go for her own sake but, because it is an important life goal to secure an education for her children, she would still go if she had the chance. This could in part be understood as a question of class, or at least tied to the ambitions of an academically oriented mother. For Rachid the decision to turn down an offer of resettlement is tied to more traditional family values, as he wants to keep the family together, so that he will not be alone in his old age. He explicitly states that to him, keeping the family together is a more important life goal than securing an education for his children.

It should be noted that there are parallels to these narratives in research on youth adaptations among immigrants in Europe. Dreby (2010) refers to this as the ‘immigrant bargain’, where parents’ sacrifices through migration are perceived as something their children need to repay, for instance through socio-economic mobility through education. Friberg (2019) describes how this perception of parents’ sacrifices produces opportunities for negative social control in immigrant families. Children of immigrants who think of their parents’ mobility as a sacrifice to secure their future feel obliged to pay them back by following the norms imposed on them (for instance, expectations of making particular educational choices or finding the right marriage partner). This article illustrate that such an understanding of migration as parents’ sacrifice is something that potential migrants sometimes also see as relevant when migration decisions are made.

Life goal 3: Individual vs collective or religious rights

The final theme that is brought up in interviews when respondents talk of migration and their own strategies for the future is access to rights and social organisation. This theme is less consistently talked about and it is more challenging to find a master narrative that the respondents draw on. When they reflect on traditional family values, gender norms, questions of individual rights and religious freedoms, and the organisation of societies in Europe and the Middle East, they touch on questions tied to politics, religion and ideology. The refugees have lived under an authoritarian regime in Syria and still live in societies where questions of religious freedoms and human rights can be highly contested; we should therefore expect that some were careful in talking with a stranger on these topics.

Several respondents thematise how living in different political, cultural and religious systems will have consequences for how they can live their lives. Many have experienced gross human rights violations, violence and war in Syria, and this has resulted in lack of trust in Middle Eastern countries in general. ‘I can never trust an Arab government again’, Moayad told me when I asked if he would move to Europe if he was given a chance. In 2015, after he got news that his father had been killed by the Assad regime, he left his family behind in Jordan and went to Turkey hoping to be able to reach Europe. He even paid smugglers to bring him to Greece in a boat but changed his mind when he saw the low quality, overfilled boat. He has still not given up on the idea of one day going to Europe, even though he is earning quite well in Jordan running two different businesses. When we visited his house for the interview, we were seated in a living room with sofas, a table and bookshelves, a major contrast to the dwellings of most other refugee families we visited, where there were only mattresses on the floor that served as both beds and sofas. Moayad’s wife also served us coffee, sponge cake and biscuits – luxury items which most of our other respondents rarely have access to.

Extract 10: Moayad (38). Married with four children. Running two small businesses in Amman, Jordan.

Interviewer:

The people that you know who went to Europe – are they happy there?

Moayad:

Yes, the economic situation, educational opportunities and health services are very good there. You know – all we ask for are basic human rights, and not utopic dreams.

Interviewer:

What do you mean by human rights?

Moayad:

My right for my son to get an education and healthcare, my right to see a good future for my family, to get an income, that no one cuts the electricity supply to my house, the right to a stable water supply. To live as human beings. To have the basic rights of a human being.

Moayad’s family is relatively successful and economically well off compared with most other refugee households we interviewed. When he talks of economic security as a human right, he is not asking for guarantees of minimum subsistence and food aid. He wants predictability and security for the future, for his business and for his private economy. Having been able to establish a basic livelihood for himself and his family, he looks to the future and fears instability – not only the instability of being a refugee – but the general instability of the Arab world. He wants to go to the West for the political and economic security and stability he associates with it. Moayad’s thought are echoed in a few other interviews, all of them with relatively well-off refugees who are, or have been, actively trying to get to Europe, or have sent relatives to Europe and are now hoping this will give them opportunities for family reunification.

In contrast to Moayad’s story, other respondents would commonly mention aspects of the European way of organising societies as something they were worried about and even as reasons for not going to Europe. Some worried about limitations on the ability to live in accordance with religious traditions. Others were worried that raising children in the West would bring particular challenges. Rachid – who turned down an offer of resettlement and was afraid his children would send him to an old people’s home in his old age – also worried about the negative cultural influence living in the West could have on his children. ‘I could not raise my children like that’, he says, and talks about Western youth culture, individualism and secularism as aspects of Western culture that he wants to protect his family from.

Extract 11: Rachid (49). Married carpenter with 5 children in Lebanon.

You know, very few are actually happy there. We who believe in the Sharia of Islam – we are different. We can coexist peacefully with everyone. But I could not let my daughters live in a situation like that. In my family this would not be possible.

It is an overarching theme in the interviews that, if they were to go to the West, they would try to adapt to Western cultural practices. But some fear the consequences of this adaptation. The niqab and hijab are sometimes drawn on as examples. Lana talks of her husband's cousin, who took off the niqab before she travelled and put on a simple hijab instead. ‘She wore the niqab for seven years here and no-one saw her face. One month before she went there, she took it off. The women prepare themselves before they go to Europe’. However, many draw a line at taking off the hijab. The laws against wearing a hijab in schools in France and Belgium was a concern to some. Karim decided he did not want to be on the list for resettlement to Belgium and France when he was told that his daughters and wife would not be allowed to wear a hijab there.

Extract 12: Karim (53). Married construction worker, Lebanon.

I did two interviews for resettlement [..] and I told them I was not interested in France or Belgium. Why? My customs don't allow me to remove the hijab from my daughters. They asked me, and I said I won't take off the hijab, so I deselected these two countries, because you can't wear the hijab in government buildings, or even the airport. […] my wife said to me, ‘I am 45 years old, now I need to remove it?’ Why?

Several women also find the involvement of state institutions in child upbringing problematic. Samira was worried after hearing that, in Sweden, women with children were forced to leave their children in childcare and work themselves, even if their husband earned enough to support them. Aisha (Extract 13), on the other hand, was worried about child protection services. She had heard that they would take away children from families if they were beaten and explained that her husband – ‘a very nervous man’ – sometimes beats the children. She did not condone the violence he was exposing the children to but did not know of strategies for ending this. Leaving her husband (or threatening to do so if he continues to beat the children) was not something she would even consider in her current situation. Instead, she argued she could not risk going to Europe because of this.

Extract 13: Aisha. Married mother of three in Jordan.

Parents can’t treat their children badly there, this is not allowed, the laws are very strict on this issue, the government will take the children if the parents treat them badly, but here the parents handle and treat their children how they want. I’m afraid that the government will take my children if I go there because my husband is a very nervous man, and he beats the children sometimes. The government will take my children from the first day we arrive there because he is very nervous.

These and similar differences in perceptions of individual and collective rights, and their consequences for family life in the Middle East and Europe, were thematised in many interviews. For some, individual rights (political and welfare rights) were linked to political stability and brought up as a reason for leaving, but more often, respondents were worried about the consequences of going to Europe for their traditional family life. They were brought up as deterrence factors (Schewel 2020) as reasons for not wanting to go to particular countries or regions. Although few worried about the freedom to attend the mosque and practise their religion in other ways, they were more worried about women’s freedom to wear the niqab and hijab in public. And they worried about the upbringing of children; that they would lose respect for their parents, that they would be sent to childcare, or even that child protection services would interfere. For refugees who rely first and foremost on their families to get by, the idea of abandoning families and relying on the state appears strange and undignified. For some, it feels safer to stay in the Middle East, where they can continue to live in accordance with what they perceive as important aspects of their tradition and religion, and where the government does not interfere in family life as some Northern European governments do.

Conclusion: seeking ways to live with dignity

Based on an analysis of how refugees talk about migration to Europe, this article has showed the varied functions that secondary migration can have for refugees in first safe countries. They all see migration to Europe as giving access to economic prosperity, and involving a risk of loneliness, cultural alienation and social exclusion. Migration to Europe is not simply understood as either good or bad, but rather as both good for reaching particular life goals, and bad with regard to other. Consequently, Syrian refugees in Jordan and Lebanon draw on partly conflicting narratives when they talk about migration to Europe. Some are overwhelmingly positive, and there are also some who are mainly negative to the idea of going to Europe. But in most interviews, the refugees draw on a variety of narratives about Europe, and what it means to be a refugee there, and express an ambivalence in their perceptions of what a future in Europe can bring.

An overarching theme in the refuges’ narratives about migration is dignity. Some want to move to Europe, as they see this as a way to enable them to live with more dignity, others believe staying will give a more dignified life. They talk of dignity as the absence of poverty, but also as being able to support their family by having a proper job, and without being dependent on aid. Living with dignity can be creating a future for your children, but also living close to family and friends in a culture in which you feel at home. For some, living with political security and predictability is important for a life of dignity, others emphasise being able to raise your children according to the values that you find important. These different preconditions and ideas of what it means to live in dignity shapes the migration aspirations of Syrian refugees.

This ambivalence in understandings of what migration to Europe may entail, has two implication for our conception of secondary migration among refugees. Firstly, it suggests that among the refugees, secondary migration is perceived as more suitable for some groups than others, where the ones who have given up supporting their family through work in Jordan/Lebanon, the ones who find liberal European values attractive, and the ones who prioritise getting an education for their children are more often understood as benefitting from migration. This suggests that self-selection may take place in who (try to) reach Europe as a refugee. Secondly, it demonstrates that many Syrian refugees are ambivalent when they make the decision to leave the Middle East for a life in Europe. The harsh conditions and limited opportunities they currently face in Lebanon and Jordan make many decide to accept and offer of resettlement to Europe if they receive one. For some it is a dream come true, but others leave the Middle East with a heavy hart. They know which opportunities going to Europe brings, but they are also well aware of the many challenges that faced the refugees who went before them. One of my interviews demonstrate this well. I presented Naadir and Hassan above; the two young men who talked of Europe as a ‘paradise without people’, and insisted their friends who left in 2015 regretted it now. My interview with them lasted for almost two hours. They described the harsh conditions they currently live under in Lebanon, told stories of employers who regularly exploit their lack of papers, and how they put a lot of effort into hiding from the police, but in spite of this had been arrested several times due to lack of residence and work permits. ‘Do you regret it,’ I ask at the end of the interview. ‘That you did not join your friends in 2015?’. They both answer – without hesitation: ‘Yes, we regret it. There is now future for us in Lebanon. We cannot remain here’.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by Research Council of Norway [grant number 288372].

Notes

1 Syrians in Jordan are offered more assistance and rights than in Lebanon (Lenner and Turner 2018), however, even in Jordan, refugees report widespread food insecurity and human rights violations (Lenner and Turner 2018; Tiltnes, Zhang, and Pedersen 2019).

2 According to UDI data. Access given though e-mail correspondence with Rachel Elisabeth Eide – ‘Unit for Statistics and Analysis’ (16.08.19).

3 I have previously written on migration aspirations based on survey data from both camp and non-camp populations of Syrians in Jordan (see Tyldum in Review).

4 Although my question was about Europe, she answered with an example from Canada. Narratives on secondary migration to Canada and the USA would be very similar to narratives on migration to Europe. For simplicity I refer to these narratives as narratives about going to Europe in the analysis of this article.

5 These unmarried men did not bring up the opportunity of family reunification in Europe.

6 The stories of children with psychological problems were many and relatively similar. It is possible that these were presented to us as parents hoped we would pass this information on to the UNHCR and that this would influence selection of families for resettlement. According to UNHCR guidelines, children in need of treatment for war traumas would be considered vulnerable, and thus more likely to be selected for resettlement. We repeatedly emphasised that the information given to us would be treated confidentially, that we would not pass any information on to the UNHCR and that the stories they told us would not have an impact on selection processes for resettlement. Based on the information we were given, we are under the impression that most respondents believed us. However, parts of the narratives presented could still be influenced by ideas of what they expect the UNHCR would be looking for in their selection of families.

7 The first reason presented was that he wanted to stay in the Middle East and go back to Syria as soon as this was politically possible. They have a daughter who is married and lives in Syria and they want to be close to her.