In 2007 and 2008, Gabriela Bulisova travelled to Syria to photograph Iraqi refugees living in Damascus. She found them in dire economic and emotional straits—often traumatized, desperate and disillusioned. Uprooted from their homes and families with no future and no hope for return, they bear witness to the lesser seen, lesser-known consequences of the war.
Gabriela Bulisova: ‘While working in Syria, I heard about the plight of Iraqis who were forced from their homes specifically because they had helped the United States. Some of them had made it to America, where their experiences and feelings were both similar to and different from those of Iraqi refugees who had remained in the Middle East. By focusing on the struggles of those in the United States, I hope to create greater understanding for both the Iraqi refugees in our midst and the millions who are largely out of sight in Syria and elsewhere in the Middle East.
‘Some of the most recent Iraqi refugees in America served as translators, working for the U.S. military or as experts with other U.S. government agencies, NGOs, or American companies in Iraq. They saved lives; they built cultural and linguistic bridges; they sacrificed their own safety and that of their families to participate in what they thought would be the creation of a better Iraq. They quickly became one of the most hunted groups in the country. They bore a lethal stigma as “collaborators” or “traitors” which transcended sect or tribe, and were targeted in assassination campaigns that drove many of them into hiding or out of the country.
‘For people who fear for their lives and seek refugee status in America, the U.S. government offers resettlement as the “option of last resort” for the most vulnerable refugees. In this project, I photographed and interviewed Iraqi refugees who have been resettled in the United States and are living in Washington, D.C. or other American cities. In some respects, these immigrants might be considered lucky, as they made it safely out of Iraq, where their lives were in immediate danger. Thousands of others are still in Iraq or neighbouring countries. During the fiscal years of 2007 and 2008, the U.S. Department of State’s Bureau of Consular Affairs issued only 1,490 special immigrant visas for Iraqi translators and interpreters who had assisted the United States. This number includes family members.
‘Once in the United States, these refugees encounter the intricate, challenging, and often disillusioning process of transitioning to life in America. Many feel abandoned by the country they helped and for which they risked their lives; many are unemployed, facing dire financial crises; many yearn for the embrace of family and friends left behind; and many wish they could return home. Still fearful for their own safety and that of family members in Iraq, many refugees asked that I not reveal their faces or names.
‘Under President George W. Bush, questions about assistance and safety did not receive serious attention until 2007, when the U.S. Congress passed legislation to facilitate asylum for Iraqis who had aided the United States. As a candidate, Barack Obama declared, “We must also keep faith with Iraqis who kept faith with us. One tragic outcome of this war is that the Iraqis who stood with America—the interpreters, embassy workers and subcontractors—are being targeted for assassination. Keeping this moral obligation is a key part of how we turn the page in Iraq.’
‘A new challenge is emerging as the United States cuts back its military presence in Iraq and is less able to protect the Iraqis it employs.’