Strangers at the gate: the 'boat people's' first ten years in Canada; Morton Beiser; University of Toronto Press, Toronto, Buffalo and London; 1999; 214 pp. $50 (cloth) ISBN 0-8020-4282-1; $17.95 (paper) ISBN 0-8020-8117-7
FIGURE 1 The arrival this past summer of successive groups of destitute Chinese in dilapidated boats off the coast of British Columbia helped reactivate recurrent public debate about Canada's refugee policy. As usual, the battlelines were drawn between compassion and fear: compassion for victims of tragedy and persecution, fear of undue burden on our social services and of the abuse of Canada's legendary generosity by unscrupulous traffickers. Morton Beiser's Strangers at the Gate is a welcome corrective to much of the ill-informed rhetoric that has dominated public discussion.
Beiser reviews the history and progress of the so-called "boat people" who escaped to Canada from Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia between 1979 and 1981. The backbone of the work is the author's longitudinal study of 1348 refugees who settled in Vancouver. Participants were interviewed in 1981, and again in 1983 and 1991, to track their adjustment to their new country.
This book is, however, more than simply a formal research presentation. Beiser's statistical findings are enriched and humanized by case histories. These personal stories are valuable reminders that many refugees who now subsist in Canada through often menial jobs were once successful professionals or wealthy businessmen before their home countries were torn apart by war or revolutionary politics. Take, for example, Li Wuchin, a janitor in a Vancouver church. Once a rich industrialist, he was divested of his factories, house and servants when the Communists took over Saigon in 1975. After a spell in a "reeducation" camp he fled for his life through the jungles of Laos. At the Mekong River, which separates Laos from Thailand, he drew the gunfire of border guards so that his family might swim across the river unobserved.
Beiser falls squarely on the side of compassion in his recommendations for refugee policy. He argues that "privileged countries should go on admitting refugees because their kindness to strangers at the gate is an affirmation of humanitarianism." Moreover, the "moral and legal obligation [flows] one way - from Canada to the people we agreed to protect. Since they were admitted as refugees, Canada [has] no right to expect the Southeast Asians to contribute to the economy."
Nonetheless, much of Strangers at the Gate provides compelling evidence that the "cost of compassion may be less than many alarmists fear." After ten years in Canada, 86% of the refugees followed in Beiser's study had "successfully" integrated into Canadian society: that is, they had jobs, spoke some English and rated themselves as being in good or better health. They also boasted lower rates of unemployment, depression, substance abuse and use of social services compared with national averages. FIGURE 2
Popular perceptions of the boat people's fate, however, fall considerably short of the refugees' actual accomplishments. A 1994 Gallup poll found that roughly half of all Canadians doubted the refugees were as likely to be working as other Canadians. Almost 40% thought the boat people were using more than their share of health and social services and that, in the long run, the decision to accept the Southeast Asian refugees had cost Canadian taxpayers too much.
Certainly, the refugees' achievements came not without struggle or cost. Two years after arrival, a mere 15% were considered "successful." Some, particularly men in the first year after their arrival, battled depression. Others grappled with the frustrations of underemployment, language barriers, discrimination and separation from family members who remained in Southeast Asia. Beiser depends largely on anecdotal evidence to illustrate the difficulties encountered by refugees and to buttress his entreaty that we do more to ease their way into our society. This raises an apparent contradiction, since his own research suggests that, as a group, the refugees are doing remarkably well. His recommendations are nonetheless eminently reasonable: he advocates more language training, easing of the restrictions on family reunification, and greater facilitation of appropriate employment.
Beiser also reminds us that good intentions can occasionally cause unintended harm. The Canadian government sponsored only a third of the 60 000 Southeast Asian refugees, while individuals and community groups sponsored the rest. It was tacitly assumed that the personal attention and often lavish generosity showered upon newcomers by private sponsors would help them integrate into Canadian society more rapidly than their government-sponsored compatriots. Beiser's study revealed otherwise. No difference in well-being was apparent between the two groups of refugees at any time after arrival. Indeed, the prevailing opinion among refugees was that government sponsorship was preferable. Non-Christians sponsored by Christian groups, actually had an increased risk of depression. One young woman explained that she became a Christian to please her church-based sponsors, despite their sincere disavowal of any intention to convert her. Ironically, the very altruism of sponsors became a source of frustration for the refugees, who felt unable to repay a substantial debt.
The encouraging record of Southeast Asian refugees in Canada stands as a dual testimony to those who rebuilt their lives after facing enormous adversity and to the nation that welcomed them. Strangers at the Gate reassures us that our generosity has been rewarded. Beiser's demonstration that it has cost so little to do so much good should bolster our willingness to welcome more refugees and to make their transition into Canadian society as painless as possible.