Never in history have so many people been displaced by political and military conflicts at home—more than 65 million globally. Unsparing, outspoken, vital, We Are Not Refugees tells the stories of many of these displaced, who have not been given asylum.
For over a decade, human rights journalist Agus Morales has journeyed to the sites of the world's most brutal conflicts and spoken to the victims of violence and displacement. To Syria, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and the Central African Republic. To Central America, the Congo, and the refugee camps of Jordan. To the Tibetan Parliament in exile in northern India.
We are living in a time of massive global change, when negative images of refugees undermine the truth of their humiliation and suffering. By bringing us stories that reveal the individual pain and the global scope of the crisis, Morales reminds us of the truth and appeals to our conscience.
"With the keen eye and sharp pen of a reporter, Agus takes us around the world to meet mothers, fathers, [and] children displaced from their homes. Now, more than ever, this is a book that needed to be written and needs to be read." —Ali Noraani, Executive Director of the National Immigration Forum and author of There Goes the How Communities Overcome Prejudice and Meet the Challenge of American Immigration
"Morales notes [that] those who live on the margins are not even refugees, often seeking survival without the UNHCR, internally displaced people whose stories we need to hear, whose lives we need to remember. . . a must read." —Dr. Westy Egmont, Professor, Director of the Immigrant Integration Lab, Boston College School of Social Work
This is an important book that deserves to be read widely. Spanning four continents (Asia, Europe, Africa, Central America) and an impressive multitude of countries (Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria, Turkey, Jordan, Greece, Libya, South Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo, Central African Republic, Mexico), the book tells the story of the displacement of unprecedented numbers of people in conditions that deteriorate yearly for refugees, asylum seekers and migrants. Morales tells this story with humanity and humility. His aim is to allow the voices of the displaced to come through – not to superimpose his own preconceptions or prejudices upon them but try to hear, to bear witness and in turn transmit to others.
The book itself is the product of years of reporting from areas hit by wars and/or humanitarian disasters. As the title makes clear, it both *is* and is *not* a book about refugees. One of Morales’ key points that is repeated often in the course of the book is that only a small minority of people who find that they have to move (because of lethal and catastrophic wars, e.g. in Syria, or because it is impossible to continue to live safely in their countries, e.g. Honduras) are actually refugees. Many of them do not perceive themselves as refugees, perhaps because in their country of origin they were respectable, well-off people. Others find that after crossing into neighbouring territory (e.g. from the Central African Republic to Chad) and then attempting to go back, they have no identifiable status and can neither lead a normal existence nor lay claim to aid.
In telling the stories of these (non-) refugees Morales attempts to debunk various false dichotomies, such as for example the one between (deserving) refugees fleeing wars and (undeserving, economic) migrants who are out to make a quick buck. His wonderful essay on those fleeing central America because they constantly run the risk of being robbed, beaten up or killed ("The Spirit of the Migrant Shelters, Ixtepec-Mexico") makes that crystal clear. He also clarifies how difficult it is to tell between the victims, the smugglers and the gang members who take advantage of the plight of desperate people; as a journalist, he says, he has to be suspicious and raise the questions that his audience wants answered; as a human being, however, he feels that his job is not to pass judgement or categorise but to bear witness.
The book is divided in five parts: 1. “Why are they fleeing?”, 2. “Flights: Who are they?”, 3. “The Camps: Where do they live?”, 4. “Routes: How do they travel?” and 5. “Destinations: When do they arrive?” Not all the essays are of uniform quality, however some are real gems that I think everyone should read. The chapter on “The Forgotten Lake Kivu” touched me deeply with its combination of factual analysis and personal self-examination. Consider the following excerpt:
”By focusing on the logic of war, do we run the risk of dehumanising the suffering of rape survivors? Of representing it as just one ore ingredient – normal, natural – of conflict? […] Of speaking only of “victims”, and not of “survivors”? Among the Kivu, yes, I found stories of villages being attacked, militia’s strategies to destroy the enemy […] but mostly I saw something much more obvious, to which little attention is ever paid, but which has a profound impact on the lives of thousands of women: rape is a weapon of forced displacement. Not even a bombing is so effective at ousting entire villages. I’ve spoken to Syrian refugees who wanted to go back to the inferno of Aleppo, I’ve spoken to Central American migrants who did not take a dim view of returning to neighborhoods controlled by gangs, but I haven’t spoken to single Congolese woman who’d been a victim of sexual violence during an armed attack who wanted to go home” (pp. 93-4)
This is the strength of We are not refugees: Morales is not simply doing a job reporting on war and human movement but at each moment he is ready to question his own motives, volunteer his thoughts and analysis, and offer his interviewees not only an ear but the sympathy of a full human being who relates to them both during the interview and after the interview is over.
I recommend this book to anyone who is interested to know more about refugees/displaced people either from a political/sociological point of view or from a human perspective. Those considering to join/volunteer for an NGO should read this book; even if they’re already familiar with certain regions of the world, it’s likely they will find in this book a wealth of information and humanity. Which leaves out those who see refugees as undeserving scroungers that need to be sent back as soon as possible. What to do about them, how to open their eyes and ears to what’s happening in the world today? I frankly don’t know how to answer this question but I hope that somehow Morales’ book will find its way even to those.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with a digital advance review copy.
We Are Not Refugees is an account of some of the movements of people fleeing from war and other kinds of violence. The title comes from the fact that many of them will never achieve the official status of refugee, mostly because other countries (particularly western ones) don't want to let them in. Others don't want the status, don't think of themselves as refugees but as people longing to return to their own homes, of a time when their homes will again be safe. They are all known as Internally Displaced People (IDP) a label that does not begin to describe their suffering.
Morales is a journalist who has interviewed people who are part of these movements. Many live in refugee camps under appalling conditions. A few of the stories are success ones: people who have successfully relocated, been accepted as citizens of other countries and are making new lives for themselves, through hard work and determination. But most of the people are still struggling. Morales leaves us with the impression that many--or most--of them will never have a home.
The places he goes to include the Central Republic of Africa (which he describes as the hollow center of Africa, a place unseen and uncared about by the rest of the world), Syria, several countries in Central America, and Afghanistan. He concludes with a moving study of the Tibetan community in exile: a group of people struggling to keep their culture, traditions, and religion intact even though many have never even been to Tibet, have been born and raised in exile.
Morales is often in the center of the action, boarding buses with refugees, participating in a boat rescue of migrants escaping on small boats in danger of sinking. He clearly has a strong background as an involved journalist and cares passionately about his subject.
One thing that Morales repeated stresses is the need to see the migrants as people first, to not let their humanity be lost behind their condition, behind what they have been forced to do. By thinking of them as immigrants, refugees, or migrants first, it is easy to lose sight of their suffering, to distance oneself and see them as "other", people not like ourselves, people who often has lives like our own before violence came to their countries or who would, given the opportunity, be just like we are. Thinking of them only by their current situations allows us to more easily ignore and reject them.
Morales provides much valuable background information about the situations in the different countries and camps he visits as well as painting a strong picture of how people are currently coping. However, the book is strongest when he allows the people to speak for themselves. Listening to their voices is a powerful experience and the best way to see them as he wishes: people first.
This is an important book for our times. There are so many refugees and "non-refugees" at this time and many more are expected as wars continue and spread. It was a painful but enlightening book.
I am grateful to NetGalley, Charlesbridge Publishers, and Agus Morales for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This showed Empowering bravery and courage for those who had to flee, they were refugees but for those that survived and now thrive... they are no longer refugees.
There was something so beautiful about the pain and saving their stories were brought to life and made me feel like i was watching them.
"Millions of people flee violence every year, but most will never attain official refugee status, whether in the United States or anywhere else."
"But to come closer to understanding their situation, we must listen to them speak not only of hardship, but of hope; not only of moments of crisis and escape, but also the tedium of waiting, and of uncertainty."
He had so many statements that just pulled me in and made see into their world.
These are stories of different refugees and how they survived and how they live now after everything they have been through.
Our first refugee is a young boy. He was along and tortured and forced into a detention center. This boy was put through hell right away and he had no one fighting for him. To help free him
"tried to resuscitate him for half an hour, but he died of pulmonary edema, according to his death certificate. If Ulet had died in Libya, no one would ever have known. I wanted to write a book about people who, like Ulet, are fleeing war, political persecution, and torture."
We get alot of facts about refugees and the number of people across the world that went through different types of pain and suffering. This book was difficult to read because personally I dont like to see others in pain. Im not vein i know the pain that lies in everyone and i know that there are horrible things happening all over the world. I know that there is poverty and detention centers i know these things happen. Lucky I don't have to witness it myself so seeing her perspective and her experience was heart warming and heart breaking.
"W hy do we kill each other? What kind of reason would drive you to kill? Would you take up arms for your country? For your values? For a flag? For your family? Have you ever killed anyone? Would it be easy for you to kill? Do you think the full force of the law would be brought against you? Do you have weapons in your home? And what if you did? What are your limits? Would you kill if everyone around you were doing it? Do you think your neighbor could kill you? Or any of your loved ones?"
"Do you believe walls are necessary? What about borders? What should be done about population influxes? Do you think they should be controlled? Do you feel threatened by those seeking refuge? Would you risk your life and those of your children by boarding a migrant boat, even if you didn’t know how to swim?"
Only the fresh eyes of the neighbors, somewhere between fearful and indifferent, excited and cautious, betray that Osama bin Laden is dead, and they don’t know what to do"
A doctor is more dangerous then a fighter. That stuck with me. Let that sink in for a moment and just think. We think of a doctor as someone who is helpful and a fighter is someone that protects or hurts depending on the situation. I thought it was just really interesting to view as doctor as dangerous but also all to true.
“Yes, I’m feeling much better. I was in the hospital for a long time. Before, I felt like I was in jail. Now at least I’m with my family.”
Akram Jabri, sixty years old, still can’t believe it. He used to have a soap factory in Aleppo, the economic capital of Syria. He made a lot of money. But his factory was destroyed by fighting between the Syrian regime and the armed opposition. He left Syria with his wife, two children, his son-in-law, and three grandchildren. He paid smugglers to get to the Greek island of Lesbos by boat. Their lives for those who got to have a life after is so sad and so beautiful. He got out.
The other effect: why would they need our help? They have money; they pay the smugglers; they’re far from helpless. Why don’t they sell their phones, their belongings? There are people in greater need. As if it mattered more to the people making that journey to eat every day than to orient themselves and communicate with others farther north, with those who know which borders are being closed and can warn of the dangers; as if a compass weren’t what you need most in a desert."
I thought that statement summed up what people think or dont even think to think becuaseso many people take everything for granted and then you read stories like this and see that we are spoiled humans and need to take a step back and see if there is anything we can do to help just around home even.
The woman is from Afghanistan. I can’t understand what she’s saying since I speak neither Dari nor Pashtun; perhaps I don’t want to understand what she’s saying." I didnt even take into account that the language barrier makes things even more difficult.
This is a story of many different refugees and how they made it or how they died. We start with a young boy who escaped and detention penitentiary and made it to freedom only to die due to his injuries and sickness soon after being free. Its not what we want to hear. We want to hear that everything is okay, we want reality to be fiction. We want to hear that the little boy escaped and grew up and lived to tell his grandchildren about his journey. But Agus showed us the truth and the truth is sad and hard to read at times but im glad someone was able to put their experience and feelings about this down on paper. We follow other stories, some happy, some not so much and we follow Agus and how she delt with everything while being right in the middle of it.
-.5 The only thing that slowly the story down was the political information facts. Yes I do think it is important for us to know whats going on but at times it was a bit much.
Thank you so much to —— via netgalley for sending me an ARC copy of We are not refugees by Agus Morales. This will be available on March 5th, 2019. All opinions are my way. Its a long time from now but it will be worth the wait.
Excelenta. Cine sunt acesti oameni? Incotro se indreapta? Ce dorinte, sperante si temeri au? Sunt refugiatii pe care ii vedem noi in barci supraincarcate ce plutesc pe Mediterana, in deriva , singurele victime? Sau lor li se adauga si cei ramasi in urma? Ce ne face sa credem ca se bucura sa "vina peste noi" ? Multi , ajunși in taberele de refugiati, se gandesc cum sa ajungă inapoi acasa, la familiile lor. In Irak, Yemen, Congo, dar mai ales inapoi in Siria. Nu vin cu bocceaua in spate, de placere, si nici nu urmaresc visuo american. Vin sa traiasca. In conditii precare, in care noi vesticii nu am lasa nici macar o fiinta nonumana sa locuiasca. Cei mai multi intervietati vor sa se intoarca acasa. Whatever that means pentru eu. Singura exceptia o reprezinta femeile africane violate. Pentru ele nu mai exista un "acasa" nicaieri. Spun africane , deoarece autorul prezinta date conform carora lucrul acesta se intampla mult mai des actolo decat in Orient. Citisem acum cativa ani o carte a lui Pinker in care el a emis si apoi sustinut teoria ca secolul nostru este cel mai nonviolent si sigur secol cunoscut. Si a prezentat dovezi. Da, cred ca este o lume sigura pentru Europa si America, dar dezastrele razboaielor permanente din Africa si Orient arata altceva. Anyways, nu sunt genul care citeste o carte innecata in lacrimi. Departe de mine asemenea sensibilități, in conditiile in care vad zilnic oameni suferinzi. Dar da , este o carte despre drama si violenta. Mi ar face mare placere sa o citeasca si cei cu vederi obtuze. Sunt si fundamentalisti, teroristi, hoti,criminali printre disclocati, dar cei mai multi dintre ei, sunt oameni ca si noi in situatii pe care noi nu le concepem vreodata si in care avem impresia ca este practic imposibil sa ajungem vreodata. Well, who knows?
There are numerous books covering refugees of various failed States, wars, gangs and other acts of brutality. Sometimes like City of Thorns: Nine Lives in the World's Largest Refugee Camp they look at one specific refugee camp, others cover the journey or the reasons for flight. In this new book, the Spanish author looks at the causes of flight in three war zones (Syria, Afghanistan and DRC), the camps they find themselves at (Jordan, South Sudan and Mexico), the routes they travel (Mexico, Mediterranean Sea and across Europe), and what happens when they arrive (Europe and India). He tries to put a label on these refugees, displaced persons, exiles, asylum seekers or whatever. In the end he realises that they are people who do not want labels and do not want to be where they are or where they are going to. His book is full of interviews of sadness, resolution, resentment, terror, trauma and occasional a little hope. He probably has not achieved his aim in writing this book as the scale of the human tragedies cannot be truly understood by those living the life of security, affluence and ignorance.
Agus Morales napisał bardzo dobrą książkę. Problem jednak z tym, że zainteresuje się nią niewielu, przeczyta jeszcze mniej, a wielu skrytykuje w ogóle po nią nie sięgając.
"Nie jesteśmy uchodźcami" to podróż tropem tych, którzy pragną żyć, a nie wegetować. To hołd złożony tym, którzy by ratować własne życie są zmuszeni do porzucenia własnych domów i rozpoczynania wszystkiego od nowa. Agusa Morales z wyczuciem, uwagą i wrażliwością opowiada o imigrantach. Stara się przy tym dotrzeć jak najgłębiej do ich motywacji, celów i marzeń. Zbiera informacje z pierwszej ręki, towarzyszy im w obozach dla uchodźców, na nielegalnych szlakach czy u początku ich drogi próbując odkryć co doprowadziło ich do ostateczności. Czasem jest psychologiem, czasem dziennikarzem, innym razem socjologiem. Swoją narracją sprawia, że ma się wrażenie iż jest się blisko, najbliżej jak się da ludzkiej tragedii, świadkiem hartu ducha w walce o przetrwanie.
Już chyba żadna książka o tematyce społecznej nie wywoła we mnie takich emocji jak "Głód" Martina Caparosa. Nie będę udawał, iż Agusowi Moralesowi udało się osiągnąć ten poziom i mimo że autor "Głodu" zachwala "Nie jesteśmy uchodźcami" to jest to jednak inna liga. Pomimo wszystko jednak warto sięgnąć po tę książkę choćby po to by mieć okazję do operowania faktami w jednej z najbardziej istotnych dyskusji współczesnego świata. Problem migracji czy chcemy tego czy nie to nie jest kwestia nad którą można przejść obojętnie jeśli tyko mamy choć odrobinę empatii. Niestety politycy przy udziale niektórych mediów zniekształcają rzeczywistość i skutecznie manipulują opinią publiczną w celu wywołania niechęci do uchodźców. Morales odwiedza Sudan Południowy, Meksyk, Afganistan, obozy przesiedleńcze jak choćby ten w Jemenie i przeprowadza rozmowy żeby przedstawić nam informacje nieprzefiltrowane przez sito informacyjne. Jaki obraz wyłania się z tych rozmów? Obraz człowieka takiego samego jak my, który był zmuszony opuścić swój dom pod presją głodu, wojny, prześladowań, nędzy, czy też braku perspektyw. Nie ma znaczenia co nim kierowało lecz sam fakt, że ów człowiek wcale nie chciał tego robić, bo to taki sam człowiek jak my który jednak niechętnie wychodzi poza swoją strefę komfortu chyba że nie pozostawiono mu wyjścia.
Wcale nie jest frazesem, że uchodźcą może zostać każdy z nas. Historia to nieraz pokazała i nieistotne że na chwilę obecną ogromna cześć tej grupy wywodzi się tak naprawdę z kilku krajów. Już jutro do ucieczki z uwagi na klimat, sytuację polityczną czy choćby zwykle warunki bytowe zmuszeni będziemy my sami. Problem jednak tkwi w tym, że pierwszy raz w historii na taką skalę istnieje międzynarodowa znieczulica i brak chęci pomocy uchodźcom. W rezultacie liczba tych którzy giną na pustyniach, morzu czy z rąk przemytników wzrasta w zastraszającym tempie. Dlaczego? Może po to byśmy byli w stanie zachować swoją strefę komfortu. Ja zachęcam was do sięgnięcia po książkę Agusa Moralesa i popsucia sobie tego komfortu.
What is it like to be a refugee? Human rights journalist Agus Morales tries to answer this vivid question through this book. In the process, he defines a few other terms for the refugee population, viz. migrants, internally displaced persons, and returnees, and explains how they are one and the same, even though laws/rights significantly vary for each of those groups.
The book gets one thinking whether the refugees are really refugees, or are they just non-refugees, as the title says. Through short interviews of the people displaced due to war, the author also debunks quite many myths surrounding the refugee population, mostly the ones formed by people who have never been in such a situation.
The heart touching stories shared by people who have gone through the worst of times in order to survive makes one think of the degrading state of humanity as a whole, and the tough political stances taken by those in power or otherwise. There are success stories as well as those of infinite failures seeking asylum, but the trifle success rate makes one's heart pound. Truly privileged are those who'll never have to go through all that a refugee does.
I would like to thank the author and the publisher for the ARC.
A resonating act of empathy, a vital book for our times - for all times.
Far beyond the stereotypes and caricatures of popular news and prejudice, Agus Morales travels the world, interviewing and describing the people that those of us who are situated in the “West”, aka Europe and North-America, keep othering. The scary Mexican at the border, the scary Arab in the boat, the fear is always the same - the xenophobia of ignorance and prejudice.
Amassing his journalistic travels into a book form, Morales forces the story into a clear path from one place to another place, filled with chaos, uncertainty, detours, and endless violence, undertaken by people so many prefer to hate, denying their simple humanity and complexity.
The book's title is the first aspect to declare a challenge to popular notions, and the author elaborates - it's not just people themselves that may refuse the title, it's also the bureaucratic grammar arguing who gets what rights (those who do the deciding always get the most).
Inevitably a heavy book, and sometimes meandering, as Morales veers from conflict to conflict under his chosen over-all structure, occasionally obfuscating the linearity of longer narratives, with many digressions from the vivid human stories into his opinions on the political, social, economical, and humanitarian matters related to the people who left their homes for whatever reasons (but almost always due to fear of violence, with the occasional hopelessness of poverty; it's a western prerogative of innocence and comfort to wonder, why don't they just return - as if they didn't want to). But am I complaining? Perhaps I'm just the choir, but not a chance.
With great empathy and personal connection, Morales reveals the emptiness and bigotry of all those who seek to diminish the people they call refugees, migrants, whatever the word of the day, to simple fear-mongering tales in the service of their own political, economical, or mere prejudicial agenda.
Gary Tiedeman, the narrator of the audiobook, does a good job giving the author’s words an invested voice that does honour to the empathy of the writing (even if the editor has left in some audio glitches).
I sometimes find it hard to imagine how people can hate those they do not know at all with such strength of will that they'd be willing to let them die or kill them themself. And yet it seems like one the simplest things in the world.
I'm sure there's much one could nitpick in the book, or wish it to be a bit different. But fuck no, I’m not going to waste my time on that. It's too important as it is.
Autor wykonał ogromną pracę: był w Meksyku, Indiach, Afganistanie, Syrii, Turcji, Grecji, Macedonii, Serbii, Chorwacji, Sudanie Południowym, na statku ratowniczym na Morzu Śródziemnym, w Republice Środkowo-Afrykańskiej... Rozmawiał z "przesiedleńcami wewnętrznymi", "migrantami", "uchodźcami", ludźmi, których my za uchodźców uważamy, a którzy sami tak o sobie nie myślą, jak również z ludźmi, których mieszkańcy Zachodu nie chcą nazywać uchodźcami, choć de facto nimi są. Starał się przy tym uciekać od stereotypów - zarówno migranta jako śmiertelnego zagrożenia, jak i uchodźcy jako z zasady dobrego i niewinnego. Wszystko to opisane zostało sprawnie i interesująco.
Dlaczego zatem "tylko" trzy gwiazdki? Książkę poleca Martin Caparros, autor doskonałego "Głodu", co siłą rzeczy narusza porównanie, którego reportaż Moralesa nie wytrzymuje. Jego dzieło jest wyraźnie krótsze i przy tak szeroko zakrojonym temacie niemal każdy rozdział zostawia duży niedosyt. Ma się wrażenie, że autor dużo pisze o ważnych sprawach, ale jednocześnie trochę ślizga się po powierzchni - zarówno jeśli chodzi o szerszy obraz wydarzeń, jak i to, ile udaje mu się przekazać na temat losów jego rozmówców. Ładunek emocjonalny jest tu znacznie niższy, choć pozornie nie brakuje dramatów, które powinny poruszać do głębi. Może brakowało autorowi nieco zdolności czysto literackich, bo tutaj już wielu reportażystom musiałbym przyznać wyższość.
„Ponieważ być uchodźcą to w głównej mierze znosić potworną bezczynność. Dnie, tygodnie, miesiące stani w obozie w kolejkach do punktów rozdawania żywności. Miesiące i lata zmagania się z biurokracją przy staraniu o azyl, często bezskutecznym. Lata podróżowania w drodze do celu”
Mass migration is in the news almost daily, but what’s lost in stark headlines and impassioned tweets is the human element. But people don’t leave their homes or their countries, often for good, without a story—often a devastating one. Spanish journalist Agus Morales’ We Are Not Refugees, which is brimming full of people’s stories, heart and humanity, is a corrective to rapid-fire soundbite consumption about mere names such as Syria, immigrants, Mexico, and the wall.
We Are Not Refugees: True Stories of the Displaced (written in Spanish and translated into English by Charlotte Whittle) is a work many years in the making. As a journalist, Morales has covered migration crises in conflict-torn countries from Afghanistan to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. In South Sudan, he visits large camps of internally displaced people, or IDPs, who are technically not refugees since they are still in their home country but are still susceptible to violence, disease, and hunger. He worked aboard a Doctors Without Borders ship performing rescues off the coast of Libya; the organization invested in boats to pluck migrants out of the Mediterranean Sea, which has one of the most deadly migration routes in the world. And Morales tracked people fleeing Central America’s deadly Northern Triangle aboard the limb-stealing freight train migrants hitch rides on known as the Beast.
Through his reporting from war zones, refugee camps, and stops along mass-migration routes, Morales witnesses living conditions that most people in the so-called developed world would find shocking. His interviews with people living in these situations are often heartbreaking in how frank they are—and enlightening to those of us who grew up with a modicum of security. He drives past dead bodies in South Sudan; the worn phrase “war torn” is too tired a cliche to describe the fresh hell he sees there. Walking through a United Nations Protections of Civilians camp, he skirts a river of open sewage (the photographer he’s there with, who steps in it, isn’t so lucky). The PoC camps have saved lives by providing safe, U.N. peacekeeper-protected sites for civilians when violence flares. However, “these camps were originally devised for an emergency, not as a long-term solution,” he writes. But that’s what they’ve become—permanent camps. That, and a bureaucratic mess.
We Are Not Refugees is a necessary read for understanding human migration, but it’s not an easy one. As he notes, “Violence is the driving force behind exoduses.” Morales visits a camp full of women in the Congo who were displaced from their homes via sexual violence, a common weapon used on women in conflicts worldwide. A woman shares a soul-crushing story about being raped and how she’s lucky her husband stayed with her, because most men leave after their wives are raped. This woman is an IDP, not a refugee, and she can’t go back home. She knows she’ll just be raped again if she does.
But one of the defining themes of We Are Not Refugees is that the horrors that Americans might imagine when they think of a refugee camp are just a fraction of the global migration story. Morales interviews a moneyed businessman who owned a large factory in Syria that was smashed by the war. When Morales meets him in transit in Greece, at the port of Lesbos alongside thousands of others fleeing the war, the man cannily says, “My factory was the size of this whole port.” He’s taking his family to Oslo, but he wants to return to Syria to reopen his business.
In Central America, Morales continues his quest to unpack the definitions that governments and the media use to broadly categorize groups that aren’t so conveniently monolithic. He meets men who he’s sure are smugglers, just as he does on the Doctors Without Borders boat picking up migrants who have passed through Libya and are heading for Italy. He also meets mothers traveling with small children and boys who were maimed by the Beast, which lurches and speeds along the tracks with riders clinging to the roof of the train’s cars. The distinction of “economic migrant,” a phrase we often hear in U.S. immigration discussions, gets awfully fuzzy when Morales meets people who have fled Honduras because the local gangs were extorting more than they could pay from their meager earnings and then threatened to kill them and their families.
You won’t find a deep legal dive in this book. As a Spanish journalist telling people’s stories, Morales doesn’t explain that in the U.S., gang members threatening your life isn’t enough to qualify for refugee or asylee status. (As an American journalist who has covered immigration in the U.S., I can explain. The U.S. grants asylum requests on the basis of five qualifiers: You must fear persecution in your home country based on race, religion, nationality, social group, or political opinion. Does a grandmother in Guatemala running a tiny fruit stand who is threatened at gunpoint by gangs qualify? Not until immigration law starts including “small business owner” as a persecuted social group in the world’s most corrupt and gang-infested countries.)
However, Morales does cover how politically motivated decisions—such as closing the borders in Eastern Europe, which pushed migrants off the land route and onto a far more dangerous one across the Mediterranean—affect migrants, as well as the labels we use for them, which often translate into policy. As Morales tells people’s stories, he makes one thing clear: He has too often witnessed the dehumanization of the people we call refugees. “Refugees are people … no matter how much we keep talking about refugees … it will, unfortunately, be necessary to keep saying that word: people. It isn’t naive to call them people: this conscious decision contains a desire to reinforce their identity as humans rather than refugees, which is what, for many, defines them, and which is meaningless, since it isn’t how they see themselves,” he writes.
And that last bit—that they don’t see themselves as refugees—is the crux of Morales’ reporting. The talking heads on every side of the debate can say what they want. Morales lets these people tell their own stories. The question now isn’t what to call them, but whether we’ll listen.
Ta książka ma swoje plusy i minusy, ale jest bezdyskusyjnie potrzebna! Może właśnie ten lekko sentymentalny, mocno osobisty sposób opowieści jest potrzebny przy takich tematach, żeby poruszyć nasze sumienia i zmusić mózg do przemyślenia wielu tematów. Uważam, że warto przeczytać i zmierzyć się z tymi historiami.
A hard book to read from the comfort of my own home, definitive a book that I needed to read. I like reading books which gives me perspective I normally would not get.
**Thank you netgally for this copy in exchange for an honest review**
Provides context about what it’s like to be a refugee. It was educational to learn more about the unrest in Syria, the DR Congo, South Sudan, CAR, and others. Probably one I need to reread.
Agus Morales is a Spanish poet and journalist who has spent the last several years covering wars and refugees in SE Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and Europe. We Are Not Refugees is his effort to capture the vastness of the crisis while taking it from the large abstractions of numbers to the particular experiences of people. There are about 68 million people who have been forced to leave their homes for many reasons, most often war and persecution.
We Are Not Refugees is organized into five sections that address the common questions most of us have about refugees with the stories of real people. He asks why they are fleeing, who are they, where do they live, how do they travel, and when do they arrive. His answers come from interviewing some two hundred people in fourteen countries.
Much of the story of displacement is told through the voices of the people he meets and interviews. This takes the narrative of this crisis away from the big numbers of faceless “refugees” to the individual exigencies of people, men, women, and children with whom we can and must identify.
Morales brings the magic of a poet to his writing in We Are Not Refugees. Using his art, he focuses on the essential point of his stories, the humanity of the people he interviews. As a poet, he understands the power of language and illustrates how it is used to separate us from each other. He points out that refugees seldom refer to themselves as refugees. He notes that people like to add modifiers like economic to qualify and disqualify refugees. He writes about how important the words are, though. For example, if you flee violence but stay in your own country, you’re an internally displaced person and have no international protection from the United Nations. Refugee is another important word because it offers protection while migrants have none. As a poet, he not only notes the legal power of these words but how effectively they are used to distance us from what is true of all, they are people.
If we can always remember to think of people who have been forced from their homes, whether they are legally called displaced persons, migrants, or refugees, as people first, as fellow humans, we will do a better job of demanding our national and international governments do a better job of treating them with dignity and humanity.
We Are Not Refugees is fascinating, inspiring, and heartbreaking. It is particularly shaming for an American when our selfish and xenophobic response has been so feeble while smaller, poorer countries do so much more. Calling ourselves a nation of immigrants seems like such hypocrisy when we are doing our level best to turn the tide against immigration and abandoning our obligations to asylees and refugees.
I received a copy of We Are Not Refugees from the publisher through NetGalley.
We Are Not Refugees at Charlesbridge | Imagine | Penguin Random House Agus Morales author site Agus Morales stories for 5W
Very interesting narration about the individual stories of refugees, or better said, no-refugees all over the world, as they are considered by Agus Morales, the excellent journalist that has created this book. Really recommended.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the review copy of this book! It’s on sale March 5th.
We Are Not Refugees was an important and very interesting book to read. Agus Morales is a journalist who has spent years traveling the globe, interviewing people who’ve had to flee their homes.
What has come out of those travels are stories and stories and stories. Stories of people who do not think of themselves as “refugees,” because the world has cast “refugees” as poor, destitute, helpless beings. And many these people came from a home where they once lived comfortably, once had a livelihood, once (perhaps still) had a family.
These people are people, and all they want is a safe place where they can go back to being productive members of society.
I think the point that really stood out the most for me was about their smartphones; many people look at these people who come with Nikes, and iPhones, and other consumer goods from our world, and that doesn’t jive right. So they say, “If they’re so poor, why do they have iPhones?”
And to that Morales says: As if a map isn’t the one thing you need when you’re lost. And he says: If I had to flee my home, my belongings, and my family because of danger, the last thing I’d leave behind would be my cellphone.
And despite the valiant effort, I still found it so, so hard to tune into these stories — to keep myself from viewing them at a distance. It’s hard to look at that kind of pain and suffering and feel it consistently. So I think the only thing I can do here is to keep reading stories like these — more and more and more. Maybe then it will stick.
Over 65 million individuals worldwide are displaced because of war. However, when it doesn't directly impact us, when we have comfortable homes and uncomplicated lives, we can be calloused and untouched by the reality of those who have lost everything.
Agus Morales, a journalist who has spent time with Doctors Without Borders, traveled to various countries to learn individual accounts of those who are displaced and compiled them into We Are Not Refugees: True Stories of the Displaced.
Repeatedly we read of men, women, and children who have faced countless dangers. While I think accounts like these are important to read, I found the book disjointed and uneven. Perhaps it's due to having been translated, perhaps it's due to organization, but I imagine it could have flowed better if structured differently. Looking at the table of contents, it seems that it should be solid: we begin with why they are forced out of their homes, then who these individuals are. Then the author continues to delve into their current living conditions and their travels, ending with their destinations. However, enough overlap exists in these stories that I found it repetitive. All the same, this can be an introduction to a timely crisis.
(I received a digital ARC from Charlesbridge via NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion.)
"We Are Not Refugees" shares personal stories of individuals who are forced to flee from war, violence, persecution, and economic hardship. Agus Morales is a journalist who travels to war-torn nations to experience the reality on the ground first hand. He visits local NGO's, accompanies individuals on escape routes, and conducts countless interviews, which accumulates a powerful narrative from both internally displaced peoples and citizens who have escaped their homeland. This book is informational and gives background for each country's conflict, but at it's core the author provides rhetoric identifying the term "refugee" by examining the depth that label holds. The word "refugee" is embedded with layers of emotions, experiences, politics, stereotypes, etc. that are all associated with the term. Morales' account with people from all over the world dives deep into the reality of our current "refugee" crisis, and yet this is just the beginning of the conversation that needs to take place. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who is looking to build their knowledge of current affairs and anyone who has a heart for people who are displaced and forced to start over.
Read More Book Reviews on my blog It's Good To Read Summary: Approximately 65 million people are considered displaced, as of today. This number is roughly comparable to the total population of the United Kingdom, or all of California and Texas combined.
This book attempts the impossible, to put a face to the refugee, to put a name on the internally-displaced person, and a story behind the suffering. It aims to rise above both the alarmist rhetoric as well as challenging the belief that all refugees are essentially the same, to give brief but comprehensive and indicative stories of the people themselves, the displaced, by the people themselves.
Main Characters: Agus Morales is the main character, as through his eyes we see the stories unfolding, from the current Syrian conflict, to the almost-forgotten Afghan crisis, to the ignored parlous state of affairs in central Africa, and the vulnerability and helplessness of people making the hazardous trip through central South America to the Mexican border. Hazardous is actually too soft and small a word for the experience of all these people, when you read of the stories of kidnappings, rapes, tortures, beatings, exploitation, and the myriad other ways people can inflict pain and misery on each other.
Plot: The book covers people and events in four continents, (these being Europe, Asia, South America and Africa). With 65 million people directly affected, the list of countries involved is almost too numerous to count – we are currently familiar with Syria, but the Central African Republic, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Mexico amongst others all have stories encompassing equal amounts of horror and tragedy.
There are five sections to the book, covering off: why people leave their home, who are the people making these dangerous journeys, how do they survive when they reach a camp, how do they get there, and finally when do they arrive? He bookends this very nicely by inviting the reader to imagine how she/he would manage, if they had to leave everything they knew, and go to a country that didn’t speak their language, and treated them as a huge burden? He challenges us when asking what would drive us to kill our neighbour, or them us, and what would our limits be?
This book attempts to highlight what has happened, and is continuing to happen, to displaced persons. Refugees, by the way, is a word that does not include everybody – people who have left their own town due to conflict but remain within the borders of their own country are “displaced”, and as such “rank lower” in terms of media coverage.
Throughout the author’s experience, and he has been reporting on this for well over a decade, he finds a large number of the displaced people were relatively well-off “back home”, with many being highly qualified, and/or having run their own successful business. One even had a massive factory. These were the people with the wherewithal to pay to be smuggled out of the country. They were not in any sense living in the lap of luxury, it was just that their path was made slightly easier by the ability to grease some palms along the way. By contrast, for those without the means, the book opens with the harrowing true story of a young boy who was alone, friendless, tortured and raped, and finally who died on board a rescue ship, in sight of freedom. The point was made that, had he died in Libya, no-one would ever have known he even existed.
Though the stories are necessarily short, and a lot of people did not want to either be interviewed or give their real names for fear of reprisals, the author gets to the point very quickly. There is no overt moralising, for no-one can dispute the suffering that is involved. No privileged person, of whom I am one, can possibly realise the depths these people have plumbed, in order to gain safety for themselves and their families. A particularly brave doctor in Aleppo, Muhammed Abyad, stood out for me, as he risked death every day for standing up for his patients, and for treating every one of them equally, in spite of frequent warnings and threats to his life.
What I Liked: - I liked how the author tried to give us the bigger picture, by describing the camps, and giving a deeper context to the huge movements of people. - I liked the people telling their own stories, direct and unadulterated, without the prism of a particular media source. They were honest and heart-rending.
What I Didn’t Like: This was a hard-hitting piece of work, based on fact and the author’s own direct research and real-life experience, and one can only respect the danger to which he exposed himself, to bring us these stories.
Overall: The author makes a good fist of being objective, but his humanity does come through, and between the lines you feel his outrage at how lives are commoditized. He has done this work for years, and while the faces change, the eyes always tell the same story. Most people don’t consider themselves refugees, and most only want to go home, to pick up the threads of their old lives in peace. He readily admits there are bad people making the journey as well, but the vast majority do not want to be there, and are only doing so out of dire need.
The reader is left to make up his/her own mind, as the author lays out cogent facts and statistics to be digested. This is not a dry narrative, as the humanity in each story pervades the whole book. There will always be those who decry the facts, call refugees “invaders”, and seek to be alarmist and so on.
For me, I was left thinking about what I would do. As a parent, I would not let my young child go into the shallow end of a swimming pool without the inflatable armbands. As a parent, I was reading about Afghan women, who being from a land-locked country had never seen the sea, taking their similarly-aged children out on a rickety boat, taking eight days and nights to cross the notorious Mediterranean Sea. It brings home to me the hard, punishing desperate situation these people are fleeing from, and gives me a deeper understanding and compassion.
An important, informative, harrowing book – definitely recommended.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to the author and to NetGalley, for giving me a free copy of this book, in return for an honest and objective review.
Too many people are still obliged to pack everything and leave behind their homelands because war, violence and extreme poverty has transformed their existence into an unbearable challenge. These people that we commonly and wrongly label as ‘refugees’ are continually moving here and there, just to find a place where to start life anew. They are the easy target of populist politicians that have made them the perfect enemy of their country’s safety and stability and the germ to eradicate. Fortunately, in a century of rampant individuality, there is still in most of us a sentiment of empathy towards those who suffer the most and a general awareness that even today peace in too many places in the world is a mere illusion. This book extensively tries to describe who these refugees are, why they decide to migrate, how do they travel and what routes do they take to finally arrive in a safe haven. However, many of those people are continually hindered in their route and they generally end in anonymous refugee camps. Journalist Agus Morales has finally given voice to many of those displaced people that must be heard and helped because it is our moral duty to render this planet a more peaceful place and to give everyone the possibility to develop its potentiality as human being.
La guerra significa morte, sangue, odio, sofferenza, umiliazione, voglia di prevalere. Non coinvolge solo gli eserciti, ma anche i civili: persone che non prendono parte direttamente ai combattimenti, ma che ne subiscono le conseguenze. Case distrutte, familiari perduti, fughe forzate. Molti diventano sfollati interni, altri rifugiati, alcuni cercano fortuna in continenti lontani. Non siamo rifugiati: non ci concentriamo sulle definizioni, ma sulle storie umane di chi ha vissuto la guerra senza imbracciare un’arma. Racconta la vita nei campi profughi, dove si sopravvive in condizioni disumane: ammassati, con pochi materiali e razioni insufficienti persino per curarsi. Emergono testimonianze atroci: violenze usate come armi di guerra, stupri di donne e di interi villaggi, uccisioni di bambini, torture psicologiche che lasciano vergogna e paura. Sparatorie senza motivo contro civili, traumi profondi, disabilità permanenti. Un altro tema centrale è l’Europa, vista come obiettivo e speranza. Ma anche lì le difficoltà non mancano: integrazione, barriere linguistiche, razzismo, umiliazione. Questo libro ci ricorda che dietro ogni numero, dietro ogni “rifugiato”, c’è una persona, una storia, un dolore.
This was a very interesting and sobering look at stories of migrants in different regions of the world. This really brings to the fore the absolute terror and chaos that some survive around the world. It’s easy to forget that many person around the world live in a perpetual state of panic and fear and displacement.
I’m not a huge non fiction reader but this was a good one for sure.
Thanks Netgalley for this one, even if I took a couple years to get to it.
Difficult audiobook. Listening to stories of suffering are always diy it these stories underscore the extent of human-induced misery on our planet. I am left with a feeling of horror at the needless pain that is made worse by realizing that nothing I do will make much of a difference for even one of these people. Making my vote count and communicating with elected representatives might make a difference and this I am determined to do
3.5 Niby Morales zbierał informację przez lata, osobiście widział na oczy dramaty, które opisał w książce, a coś z tą książką jest nie tak. Za dużo wątków, za mało pogłębienia tematów, a do tego nie pasowała mi konstrukcja, która dawała odczucie chaosu. Informacyjne fragmenty mieszały się z rozmowami z „nie-uchodźcami”, strzępami czyichś pamiętników i anegdotami bez ładu i składu, historie rozmówców Moralesa były fragmentaryczne, zawsze pozostawiały niedosyt.
Algo que puedes intuir pero que contado en primera persona por tantas personas te hace replantearte muchas cosas. ¿Por qué no hacemos nada? Me ha aportado muchísimo. Es un libro muy denso y complicado de leer si quieres estar en cada nombre extranjero, cada ciudad, región, bando político...pero merece mucho la pena.