For even the most well-trained legal advocates, the asylum system has increasingly become a labyrinth. Now, with the writing of several restrictive executive orders by the new presidential administration, the continued existence of asylum in any form is at risk in the United States.
The Right Kind of Suffering: Gender, Sexuality, and Arab Asylum by Rhoda Kanaaneh delves into that labyrinth from the perspective of a volunteer interpreter for asylum seekers. Her non-legal perspective is in fact one of the things that makes this book so compelling, as often, those who are most familiar with the law can become habituated to the complexity and unfairness of the systems in which they work. Kanaaneh, however, sees things more from the perspective of her clients, while filtering this through her experience of many years as a legal interpreter. She laments the prohibitively complex legal system full of pitfalls and delays, designed in such a way as to make seeking asylum nearly impossible for anyone who can’t afford an attorney to help them navigate it (which at present is around 70% of all applicants). The language barriers, cultural differences, and sheer complexity of the system all work together to make asylum an incredibly long, expensive process, and for someone coming from an impoverished or war-impacted area, the resources needed to pursue this process are often not available.
Kanaaneh admits that the four subjects involved in her research were each privileged in various ways (most notably, for all having legal representation), and incredibly lucky to have succeeded in being granted asylum. At the beginning of her study, in 2012, 1 in every 4.27 applicants were granted asylum, but by the time of her writing, in 2018, that number had drastically reduced to 1 in 12.51 (p. 9). That number stands to drop exponentially this year, in 2025, as the new executive orders come into effect.
The people she chose to write about all faced gender-based or sexuality-based discrimination or violence in their home countries, which are some of the asylum applicants most likely to succeed. Men, particularly from Arabic-speaking countries, (as an Arabic-speaking interpreter, these are her clients) are often viewed as aggressors rather than victims, and do not receive the same level of sympathy from the U.S. legal system. Particularly since 9/11, this stigma has prevented Arabic men from being seen as victims worthy of being saved. They do not have, as Kanaaneh labels it, the “right kind of suffering.”
Adding to this difficulty is the double-edged sword of economic disadvantage, as Kanaaneh explains. In the U.S., asylum cannot be granted based on financial difficulty, only on persecution based on race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion (p. 30). So for those applicants who may in fact have the greatest need, facing poverty in addition to other factors, they must omit any mention of economic factors that have led to their current situation, carefully editing their life-story so as not to taint their asylum application. This omission stems from wariness in the U.S. of asylum seekers becoming burdens on the state. Ironically, if they are not able to support themselves without depending on state resources, then they may not receive the benefit of asylum. This perception has radically shifted since the inscription on the Statue of Liberty (although not legally binding) was made: "Give me your tired, your poor, /Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
This idea of a good or bad kind of suffering in the eyes of the law is echoed today in the plight of the many South- and Central-American refugees waiting at the U.S. border to apply for asylum. They are often portrayed in the media as criminals or impoverished drains on state resources, making them less desirable as potential citizens. Artificial barriers are thus created to prevent these people from receiving aid, as they are seen as unable to give back. Yet is the function of humanitarian aid solely to give to those who can repay it?
This book, written on the cusp of a new era for asylum, was, for all its delays in being published, extremely timely. These delays were in fact a direct result of the undue complexity of the asylum system, as the cases she followed were repeatedly set back over many years, one of which lasted nearly six years in court.
And now, these delays may very well grow much longer as new executive orders reinstate the “Remain in Mexico” policy, which requires asylum seekers at the southern U.S. border to stay in place while they await their hearings. Previously, asylum seekers were granted temporary visas to enter the country while their cases were pending, and could even apply for work permits to earn money in the (often years’) interim. These orders also ended use of the CBP One app, which, for all its flaws, allowed applicants to apply for asylum fully online. Now, seekers must apply in person, adding another layer of complexity and delay.
At a time when the need for asylum is at its highest, rising from 27,000 applicants in 2014 to a record high of 457,000 in 2023, grant rates in the U.S. may fall to their lowest yet. It is yet to be seen what far-reaching impacts new laws around immigration will have, although the complex process that Kanaaneh documented is not likely to become any easier.
To read this book and others relating to asylum, see our book display starting in February at the Daniel F. Cracchiolo Law Library:
The Right Kind of Suffering by
Sanctuary Cities by
We Built the Wall by
Humanizing Immigration by
In the Shadow of Liberty by
0 Comments.