Abbott’s decision on refugees is out of step with Texan values
As governor of Texas, Greg Abbott has rarely exceeded expectations.
But seldom has Abbott disappointed Texans as profoundly as he did this week.
On Friday, the Republican governor announced that Texas will become the first state to opt out of the refugee resettlement program, under a new approach announced by President Donald Trump last year.
This decision is a deeply saddening one, at odds with the values of the city of Houston and the state, both of which have a long history of welcoming refugees, who in many cases have left their home countries to escape persecution, war or violence.
It also raises some real questions about the caliber of Abbott’s political instincts. A day before he announced this decision, Houston-area advocates were confident that he would continue the state’s legacy of resettling refugees.
“I can’t imagine, really, that Texas is going to be labeled as a state that does not welcome others,” said Ali Al Sudani, the senior vice president of programs for Interfaith Ministries for Greater Houston, when I spoke to him Thursday.
Al Sudani began working with IMGH as a beneficiary of its services, having come to Houston from Iraq as a refugee. He told me he was hopeful that Abbott would make the right decision eventually.
Most Houstonians, he explained, are on the same page when it comes to refugees: “We have the support from the business community, the faith community, the civic community — all of them.”
Natalie Wood, the senior vice president of programs for Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston,
was similarly optimistic Thursday when I asked her for the state of play.
“We do believe in prayer, and we do have strong faith, and we know that usually, in the end, goodness prevails,” she explained.
I asked her what would happen if Abbott declined to opt in to the program, just on the off chance he decided to do such a thing.
“Oh ...” she said. “Well, I imagine if the governor doesn’t sign, there would be a lot of people who would raise their voices in protest.”
“I know how strongly all the Catholic Charities feel about providing services to refugees,” she added. “We take it as one of our core ministries.”
The question at hand had been put to state and local leaders across the country in a September executive order.
Trump explained that his administration was seeking greater cooperation with state and local governments to ensure that refugees “are resettled in communities that are eager and equipped to support their successful integration into American society and the labor force.”
To that end, he continued, the federal government in the fiscal year beginning June 1 would resettle refugees only in places where the leaders of both the state and the locality affirmatively consented in writing to their arrival.
The president also announced that month that just 18,000 refugees would be allowed to resettle in the United States this year, down from 30,000 last year.
This was a bit puzzling, because state and local governments can’t actually ban refugee resettlement. Refugees are legal immigrants and, as such, are free to move around within the country.
And the executive order concerning where refugees are resettled may eventually be struck down in court. A lawsuit filed by Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service, Church World Service and HIAS — three faith-based resettlement agencies — describes it as an unprecedented act of executive overreach.
“Neither the federal statutory scheme nor the Constitution leaves room for a state or local veto over refugee resettlement,” the plaintiffs argue. A federal judge in Maryland heard arguments on the case this week.
But if Trump’s goal was to stir up controversy over refugees, the stunt has turned out to be a bit of a damp squib. More than 40 governors have already opted in to the program — including more than a dozen Republicans.
Some of the latter have shrewdly taken the opportunity to proclaim the virtues of the states they respectively lead as well as the refugees who might someday find new homes in their communities.
“This marvelous compassion is simply embedded into our state’s culture,” Utah Gov. Gary Herbert, a Republican, wrote in October, after commending the contributions that refugees have made to his state over the course of its history.
Abbott is the first governor to opt out of the refugee program — and it’s not the first time. In 2016, citing nebulous security concerns, he formally withdrew the state from the refugee resettlement program. In that case, though, the federal government continued to place refugees in Texas, in collaboration with local agencies.
The governor’s letter to Trump in this case makes no mention of security concerns and gives the impression that he would like to have it both ways.
Abbott cites Texas’ history as a welcoming state for refugees as a reason the state should now shirk what many of us consider to be a moral responsibility as well as a good thing for our state.
“Texas has carried more than its share in assisting the refugee resettlement process,” Abbott writes in its conclusion.
That’s true, and it’s because most Texans believe we can and should welcome refugees.
After Abbott’s announcement, I called Al Sudani again, and he told me he was shocked, disappointed and dismayed.
“We should be a leader in showing our compassion,” he said. “We can’t turn our back to the ones who need our help the most.”
“What message we are sending by saying officially that the state of Texas, with all of our resources, that we can’t accept a couple of thousand refugees?” he asked. “What kind of message would this send to the business community, to other communities that want to make Texas home? Do they really want to come to a state that is not welcoming?”
“This is not the Texas I know,” Al Sudani concluded, sadly. And certainly, he is not the only Texan feeling that way.