AMMAN — When Iraqi militias threatened Ghasswan Al Taee, 36, in 2006, he fled to Jordan. Five years later and with three children born here, his state of limbo has become a constant.
Since 2003 an estimated four million Iraqis have fled their homes, the largest exodus since Israel’s creation in 1948. Deepening violence and sectarian strife have led to the internal displacement of many Iraqis and have driven others out of the country, largely to Syria and Jordan, but also to Lebanon, Egypt, Turkey and the Gulf.
“We wait and wait, yet we don’t know what the future holds for us,” said Mr. Al Taee, who volunteers for the Collateral Repair Project, which provides aid to Iraqi refugees. “We become more inclined to rely on fate, but this uncertainty is destroying any future for my children.”
Sasha Crow, co-director of the Collateral Repair Project, said, “There are so many Iraqis that have come to us and are just waiting to be resettled or waiting for some kind of solution.”
This state of ambivalence and uncertainty is becoming more common in refugee displacements across the Middle East. Both the host countries and the refugees — Palestinians, Iraqis, Tunisians, Libyans and, more recently, Syrians — prepare for a short-term stay that ends up stretching into months or years.
The Syrian refugees, who number a few hundred, included families who have crossed into Jordan since protests began there on March 15, according to Amjad Shammout, president of the Arab Bridge Center for Development and Human Rights. He noted that it was difficult to know how many Syrians had fled because some stay with Jordanian families and do not usually congregate in one area.
Syria and Jordan are not signatories to the international refugee convention, the key legal document defining who is a refugee, their rights and legal obligations of states, yet by the end of 2010 they were two of the top five major countries in the world hosting refugees.
Jordan is home to the largest concentration of Palestinian refugees in the world, with nearly two million in 13 camps, according to a survey by the United Nations Relief Works Agency for Palestine Refugees. Unlike other refugees who are considered “guests” in Jordan, Palestinian refugees were granted citizenship after the annexation of the West Bank from Jordan by Israel in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war.
“This region is a hot volcano and as long as there is war, instability and bad regimes, we will continue to see refugees fleeing their homes to neighboring countries,” Mr. Shammout said. “This ongoing refugee situation destabilizes the region, and until the refugees feel safe and secure they will not return.”
Civil strife and vendettas continue to plague Iraq, despite an overall reduction in bombings, said several refugees interviewed in Syria and Jordan. A U.N. survey of Iraqi refugee children in Jordan found that 39 percent reported having lost a close relative, while 43 percent had witnessed violence.
Since the start of the Iraq war, nearly 300,000 Iraqi refugees have registered with the U.N. refugee agency in Syria. Of these, 52,000 have been referred for resettlement and more than 22,000 have departed for more than a dozen countries. But for many, the future is unclear.
In Syria and Jordan, Iraqi children are allowed to attend government schools, but it is illegal Iraqis to work without a residency permit.
“We met a few families who returned to Iraq because they couldn’t wait anymore and couldn’t feed their families or pay their rent,” Ms. Crow said.
Young people under the age of 24 make up 50 to 65 percent of the population of the Middle East, according to the Brookings Institution. Accordingly, the number of school-age children among the refugees is high.
“Any children in the country are our responsibility, and we know there are around 10,000 Iraqi children who are vulnerable in Jordan,” said Dominique Hyde, Unicef representative in Jordan. “The state of limbo is a concern to all of us, and our role is to ensure it’s not a lost generation by providing as much support as possible, including in education.”
The situation is especially difficult for those Iraqi women who have lost their husbands. Hanan, whose last name has been withheld for security reasons, lives with her three children in Damascus. Her youngest son, who is 10, works illegally and is the breadwinner of the family. He has no time for school.
Sundus Hussein, another widow, said her deceased husband received numerous death threats because he worked for The Associated Press. Despite leaving the news agency, he was labeled a traitor and was killed by a car bomb in Baghdad in 2008. After his death, his son, Ahmad Al-Shuwaili, 18, began spending less time at school. Ahmad’s older brother, Mustafa, 19, dropped out.
“I was so afraid to go to school,” said Ahmad, sitting on a mattress in a cramped Amman apartment. “I thought any day and at any moment I will be killed either at school or on the way to school because of what happened to my father and because of where he worked.”
After selling her belongings, Mrs. Hussein moved to Amman in January. Now none of her children attends school.
“Uncertainty, disruption and unsettlement causes, especially in children, anxiety and demotivation that makes learning and education difficult,” said Hussein Al Khozahe, a sociologist and expert in developmental studies at Al-Balqa Applied University in Amman. “But at the same time some of these Iraqi parents, who have lost everything but were once middle-class, see education as the only hope for a better future.”
Many Iraqi refugee children have missed up to three years of school because of displacement and violence, according to a U.N. report. Informal education programs are one alternative to attending school for children facing distress, learning challenges or the prospect of bullying.
One such program is run by Questscope, an organization aiding social development in the Middle East. Curtis Rhodes, international director of Questscope, said the organization worked on behalf of Jordanians, Syrians, Palestinians in Gaza, and others, and was continuously trying to expand its educational offerings.
Meanwhile, in Syria, Ahmed, 45, whose last name has been withheld for security reasons, continues to wait for a resettlement opportunity after several countries rejected him. Although he is now unemployed, Ahmed said he once worked as a mechanical engineer in Iraq and that he speaks six languages.
In 2008, shortly after his arrival in Damascus, he insisted that all six of his children attend school. “My kids, especially my daughters, have done very well in government schools, but they are starting to ask me, What is the point of continuing and when are we leaving Syria?”
Mr. Rhodes of Questscope said: “The most we can do is say that you have to put your kids in education, but ultimately this thing can’t be solved if people can’t provide their own income. No one will speak about this, but it’s what creates the limbo.”
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