This article is part of the blog series “Who, What, and How Much Does Temporary Protection Protect?” and edited by Ibrahim Soysüren. It builds on presentations from a workshop which had the same title and held on 9 December 2023 in Izmir and jointly organised by the NCCR On the Move, the Institute of Sociology of the University of Neuchâtel, and the Izmir Bar Association.
This article, based on in-depth interviews, shows that the experience of Syrian refugees regarding temporary protection in Izmir is full of uncertainty and insecurity. Despite changing discourses about Syrian refugees, including their numbers, status, and the legal framework regarding their rights and the transformation of migration into a political issue in both domestic and foreign policy, one constant remains: uncertainty. Moreover, the rising anti-Syrian sentiment hinders the ability of refugees to plan for their future and shape their lives. This situation has a significant impact on refugees’ decisions regarding their stay in Turkey or their return to Syria. It is unfortunate that the collapse of the Syrian regime appears to have led to a new era of uncertainty rather than one of resolution.
Spiral of Uncertainty: Syrian Refugees’ Experiences of Temporary Protection
Cansu Akbas Demirel*
As part of the comparative research project entitled “Dealing with Crises and Liminal Situations: The Agency of Ukranian and Syrian Forced Migrants in Three National Context“, conducted at the Institute of Sociology of the University of Neuchâtel within the framework of the National Centre of Competence in Research (NCCR) On the move, we wanted to learn about the experiences of refugees from Syria under temporary protection.
” I learned slowly by asking my friends… I was 11 years old.”
The application procedures, validity period, scope and expiry conditions of the temporary protection status are unclear, and changing practices make it difficult for Syrian refugees with temporary protection to imagine and plan their future, even in the very short term. Firstly, the people being interviewed emhasized how worried they were when they arrived in Izmir. They were worried about getting identity documents, finding work and things like education and health. There was no clear information for new arrivals.
Refugees who had arrived before them were very important in this regard. Thanks to them, they could access information on a wide range of issues, such as how to apply for temporary protection, how to deal with the Presidency of Migration Administration, how to enrol in a school for basic education, and how to find social support. They got this information from relatives or, in some cases, neighbours who had arrived in Izmir before them. A young woman explained that when she arrived in Izmir, she learned about bureaucratic procedures and social support mechanisms from other children she met on the street:
“There were a lot of Syrians. At first, we didn’t go anywhere. After we rented a house, we started to meet people. Information on how to get an ID card and how to enrol in school; my family didn’t understand anything. How could they do it? I learned little by little. I asked my friends and found out where we could get the ID cards. I went there. Then I came to my family and took them with me. I was 11 years old. I learnedt about ID cards. First, they give you a document, not a card. Then I went to a place where food was given out every day. I learned about this place. A friend told me about it. I met this friend while I was out for a walk. She showed me it.”
In the same way, the rights and opportunities people have are not always easy to predict. For example, a woman who had planned to stay with her family at a close relative’s house when she arrived in Izmir describes her disappointment when she saw where they were going to live as follows: “I was shocked on that day. I sat and cried all day. I was asking myself, ‘What kind of a place have I come to?’ What kind of a place am I going to live in?”
Ongoing uncertainty: Changing conditions and practices
Syrian refugees have started to gain experiences in different fields as they have been living in the country for longer. People who have learned how things work from others that have come before them continue to pass on their experiences to newcomers. However, the process of learning and adapting does not end for those under temporary protection. For example, the above-mentioned young woman, who went with her family to register for temporary protection, explained that she had enrolled in school on her own as a child. When they arrived in Izmir, she went to a temporary education centre because she was not enrolled in a Turkish school. She had to change schools after these centres were closed. She had to leave the school she was attending and continued her studies at a high school by correspondence after the pandemic.
Although education is a recognised right for Syrians under temporary protection, this does not always mean that it can be exercised in practice. In schools, discriminatory and exclusionary attitudes towards Syrian students, sometimes from administrators and teachers and sometimes from peers, can be crucial. This situation can also vary from school to school. For example, according to one interviewee, a teacher at the school asked “Why did you come to Turkey?”. However, in another interview, a Syrian father was touched by the fact that a teacher at his daughter’s school, together with other teachers of the same school, helped the family with furniture when they realised that there were no belongings in their apartment.
In the process, there has been a shift in attitudes towards Syrians, as well as in administrative practices. While the question of citizenship has always been uncertain, it is almost impossible to claim rights under the current conditions, let alone obtain citizenship:
“Since citizenship was opened to people with work permits, it pushed a lot of people to have work permits and it was like ‘I’ll pay the insurance, at least I might be invited to citizenship’… But let’s say, as Syrians or people under temporary protection, we weren’t fined for working without a permit. But in the last 1-2 years, they started to issue fines between 5000 to 7000 Turkish Liras for both the employers and the employees. Also, in the case of temporary protection, for example, there is an article in the Law on Foreigners and International Protection, according to which if you work without permission under temporary protection, you can be deported. This means that if a person who, is working without permission and has a problem with her or his employer consults us, we say ‘Yes, you are entitled to seniority pay, annual leave, insurance contributions.’ At that point, the person gives up and gives up on claiming their rights.”
While the discourses about the economic crisis, the earthquakes and the elections turn society anti-Syrian, Syrians can become scapegoats against whom social anger can be easily directed. The inability to foresee where these reactions might lead manifested itself in the interviews as an inability to imagine a future. The insecurity generated by this situation is felt both in terms of the cancellation of their legal status and the fear of being sent back, as well as the threat of lynching and attacks in everyday life.
“Now my husband works and my children study. So is it good? It’s good, thank God. But my children have no future. Because the Syrians are mentioned in the slightest argument. Even at the smallest thing, they bring Syria into the discussion. For example, when there’s a new decision, we’re always in a panic. Are they going to send us back, are they going to send us somewhere else? What will happen to our situation?” We are in a constant panic. For example, the simplest example: I’ve been in Turkey for 10 years, I’ve been in Izmir for 6 years, I haven’t bought a TV for 6 years. My husband used to say, ‘They might come out with something new, so they can kick us out. Don’t buy furniture or anything else, save your money. You have seen what we have been through, we should have money with us. Just in case. For 6 years there was no television in my house… My eldest daughter came to me and said, ‘Mum, everyone has a television in their house. Why is there no television in our house? My husband couldn’t stand it either. He said, ‘Let it be torn to pieces’. He said, ‘I’ll bring the television, I’ll bring the bed, I’ll bring whatever you want. But are we safe? We are not safe.”
What’s going to happen now?
The desire to migrate once more was a frequent theme in the interviews. Syrian nationals granted temporary protection who did not perceive a viable future for themselves and their offspring in Turkey sought to migrate to Europe through regular ways. The process of acquiring citizenship, whether through naturalisation or other means, did not diminish this desire. Conversely, it was regarded as a means of facilitating safe passage to the EU. In this respect, for those who were citizens, Turkey was not regarded as a final settlement country. In light of the prevailing state of insecurity and uncertainty in Turkey, some refugees have considered the possibility of “returning to Syria even if the war does not end”.
Following the regime change in Syria in December 2024, the possibility of return has increased in comparison to the previous months. The government’s prompt response to the Turkish public’s expectations in this regard is noteworthy. In accordance with the “go-and-see” policy, individuals who have travelled to Syria and wish to return to Turkey are permitted to do so until 1 July 2025 at the latest. Consequently, it is not feasible to predict with any degree of certainty the number of individuals who will opt for voluntary return. A young father, who had previously left his children behind in Syria and had subsequently travelled to Turkey alone, provided the following statement during a discussion we had on his way back: “I will be reunited with my children. The war has come to an end. We are free.”
Recent attacks by the new regime against Alawites demonstrate that the transition of power in Syria does not necessarily entail the cessation of hostilities. This implies that, for Syrians who have temporary protection status, uncertainty engenders further uncertainty.
*Dr Cansu Akbaş Demirel is an independent researcher. She is a member of the GAR and a board member of Association for Solidarity with Refugees (Mülteci-Der).
** The ideas and opinions expressed in GAR Blog publications are those of the authors; they do not reflect those of the Association for Migration Research.
*** The image created by ChatGPT.
