Seeking refuge in refugee policies
A more enlightened and humanitarian approach in dealing with refugees in the country is proposed as it can be good for our democracy and commitment to human rights.
PRIOR to returning to Malaysia in 2007, I was aware of the plight of refugees only in a general intellectual sense: of the conflicts that were causing the movement of millions, what the destinations were, and what policies were in place in some of those countries to receive or reject them.
I had not met any refugees and could not grasp the hardships of those journeys.
Soon after I returned home, I met with an advocate for disadvantaged children in Kuala Lumpur. She was involved in setting up centres that would provide shelter, medical facilities and education for at-risk children, including stateless and refugee children.
As a trustee of Yayasan Chow Kit for over 10 years now, I have seen some of these children thrive.
Many have done well academically, and have participated enthusiastically in the arts.
They have become advocates for their own community and have proven that, like young people anywhere, they seek opportunity, achievement and happiness.
The other institution I have been blessed to witness since its formation is Ideas Academy, which was founded as a joint project between the Institute for Democracy and Economic Affairs (Ideas) and a Dutch foundation.
It has been described as the “most cost-effective secondary-level learning centre in Malaysia”, with 153 students from eight countries – Myanmar, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Somalia, Ethiopia, Kenya, Sudan and Iraq – many of them pursuing IGCSEs. Our results are similar to those from other (much more expensive) learning institutions, and we put on a fair share of musicals and art exhibitions too.
The rationale of Ideas to co-found Ideas Academy – alongside our other special education project, the Ideas Autism Centre – was to show that civil society, working together with corporates, can deliver quality education to those most in need.
Since then, the demand for enrolment, feedback from parents and satisfaction we see in our students suggests we are doing something right.
The processes we have encountered, the data we have collated, and the experiences we have enabled, can all help provide input to changes in policy.
Unfortunately, government policy towards refugees has not always been clear or consistent. We have seen emotional appeals for Malaysians to help our Rohingya brothers and sisters, and yet actual assistance to those who are already here could easily be amplified.
Proposals to enable refugee children to attend government schools is countered with the idea that Malaysian parents might get upset, with little attempt to show that the cost of not letting them attend school could indeed be higher in the long run.
We have also learned of many instances where highly qualified refugees including doctors are unable to contribute their skills because they are not legally allowed to do so – yet the fear of a floodgate of mythical “job stealers” remains.
We are still waiting for the ratification of the 1951 International Convention on Refugees, but for now, such expressions of joining the civilised world seem politically controversial.
Indeed, government policy in this area (as with all other areas) seems subordinate to the domestic political context in which perceptions of race and religion dominate.
But rather than be lazy and play into this old rhetoric, I suggest that the government can and should construct a new narrative that shows that a more enlightened and humanitarian approach can be good for our economy, our democracy and our commitment to human rights which, of course, will result in the uplifting of our brothers and sisters of all religions, whether they are Palestinians, Rohingya or otherwise.
Governments, civil society and the private sector should play their part by setting the right examples in terms of employment, and more widely by educating the public of the horrors of conflict through the education curriculum and cultural exchange programmes.
The single most impactful conversation I ever had with a refugee took place in Australia, with a man of Vietnamese descent. He was very successful professionally, and when I told him I was Malaysian, he shared his story of how he fled the Vietnam War in the late 1970s and was welcomed on Pulau Bidong, off the coast of Terengganu.
I was deeply touched by his palpable gratitude for my country.
What it suggests is that if today we get our policy, our attitude and our humanity right, then years from now, future generations of people all over the world will have Malaysia in their hearts.
In our fractured world where political leaders feel the need to foment division for electoral purposes, having each other in our hearts is perhaps the greatest defence against hate that we could hope for.
This is a condensed version of the writer’s speech at the Rotary Peacebuilders Conference on 23 March 2019. Tunku Zain Al-’Abidin is founding president of Ideas. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.