Destiny Deferred for Afghans in Istanbul
Picture from a respondent of cars she used to see on the streets in Afghanistan. The meaning of this sentence roughly translates to: “If things go well, good then. If not, I will go to Germany” Source: BBC farsi
by: Negin Derviş (Contracted Freelance Researcher, GAPs Project) | Özyeğin University
‘I am without destiny.’ These are the words used by a number of Afghan migrants in Istanbul to sum up their lives to me in interviews over the past couple of years. The physical violence that many left behind at home in Afghanistan and the dangers they faced as they were being smuggled into Türkiye have been replaced by a threat less imminent but no less scary: the uncertainty at the root of their fragile existence in their new host country.
Emboldened by the anti-immigrant sentiment on display during the 2023 Turkish elections, the authorities are making no secret of their desire to detain irregular Afghan migrants. A greater number of Afghans have been arrested in Türkiye each year between 2018 and 2023 than migrants of any other nationality. It is harder to know how many of these were deported, but it is certainly not a small number.
I know of both men and women who have recently been sent back after many years of subsisting in the vast city on the edge of Europe. Home visits to Afghans in Türkiye often begin with a descent into an underworld, a near-windowless basement that sits under the street level at which Istanbul’s residents go about their business. These living spaces are often shared by more than one family, with moldy walls and stifling humidity. Long hours at work – in many cases, in the clothing sector – are also spent underground, with every commute carrying the risk of an arrest that could separate parent from child or spouse from spouse.
The luckier ones in Türkiye tend to be those holding ‘international-protection’ status, which carries with it the hope of resettlement in the US, Europe or elsewhere. Here too, Afghans top the official statistics: in 2023 there were more Afghans holding international-protection status in Türkiye by a far stretch than any other nationality. But life at this end of the spectrum is not necessarily easy either. I have attended resettlement interviews in which Afghan applicants have described waiting several years for news on whether they can or cannot start a third, new life abroad. These are the minority. For a far larger number, the only way they see as forward is to be smuggled into Europe and to make an asylum claim there.
Few believe that going back to Afghanistan looks preferable to staying in Türkiye. In 2023, a staggering 28.3 million, or two-thirds of Afghanistan's population, required humanitarian assistance. The events leading to the Taliban's takeover in 2021 further aggravated the displacement, leaving more than 3.2 million internally displaced, with women and children constituting over 70 percent of those affected. One woman who was recently deported messaged me to say that, despite being reunited with her mother, she has no doubt that she wishes to be out of Afghanistan.
Further fieldwork carried out for the GAPs project revealed that, for Afghans living in Türkiye to consider returning home, the emphasis should be on livelihood and economic development in their home country. Yet the Taliban takeover in 2021 has led to a vast reduction in foreign aid. Crucially, healthcare has been severely harmed under the new regime, as laid bare by Human Rights Watch in February 2024.
‘I would return if I could, but I can't’ is a message that came through powerfully in this fieldwork. Participants emphasized that, even if there is no direct threat to their lives upon returning to Afghanistan, the lack of employment opportunities – not to mention the inadequate health services and widespread famine – make life there impossible.
In principle, there is nothing wrong with a return policy that is voluntary, properly conceived and implemented. However, at a time when European politics look increasingly hostile to refugees, there is a high risk that such a policy will be formulated in a way that is not in their best interests. Far from being suitable for a return policy in the near future, Afghans’ problems long predate the Taliban takeover. This was reflected in the interviews carried out in Istanbul: most of the Afghan participants in this research came to Türkiye before the takeover occurred in 2021. Many mentioned that returning is now even more implausible: on top of the bleak nutritional, healthcare and economic reality, they now know, from friends and relatives that have remained there, that their girls would be unable to receive education and women would be unable to do most jobs. They expressed having little faith in the Taliban’s ability to turn things around; indeed they expect them to get worse.
Now is not the time to consider a return policy under which Afghans abroad are returned to Afghanistan. Instead, policy makers should do more to support them, as well as to improve their awareness of Turkish and EU migration and return policies. Participants in this research not only seemed decidedly confused about these policies but also had limited trust in the local and international systems that appear to decide their fates arbitrarily. Why would I apply for international-protection status in Türkiye when that will mean resettlement in a remote city where I fear I will not find work and be able to support my family? Why has the Turkish police stopped us from crossing to Greece when Türkiye itself clearly wishes to host fewer migrants? These are examples of questions, among many others, that have emerged from my conversations with Afghans here in Istanbul over the past several years.
The question for policy makers is what can be done to restore some sense of destiny to Türkiye’s Afghans.
Contact:
Negin Derviş| Özyeğin University (OzU) | neginda15@gmail.com