Reykjavík Grapevine - 19.07.2019, Blaðsíða 14

Earlier this month, two then-pend-
ing deportation decisions—those of
Shahnaz Safari and her two children,
Zainab and Amir, aged 14 and 12; and
Asadullah Sarwary and his sons, Mahdi
and Ali, aged 9 and 12—followed a
familiar pattern: their cases began to
receive considerable traction on social
media, respected public figures began
to speak up against the deportations,
a petition was started, a protest was
organised and launched, members of
Parliament sparred rhetorically with
each other, and then the Minister of
Justice penned a slight change to immi-
gration regulations that allowed these
specific families to remain in the coun-
try.
It’s a process Iceland has witnessed
numerous times before, as elected
officials again debated their interpre-
tations of both domestic and inter-
national laws on refugees, as well as
whether subsequent changes made to
regulations and laws on the subject
make things better or worse.
The fundamental question that still
needs answering is this: does Iceland
need to change its laws on foreigners,
or adopt a more charitable interpreta-
tion of them that honours the spirit in
which they were written?
The law as written
Child deportations tend to strike a
particular chord with the Icelandic
public; nearly every case that has been
brought to public attention has sparked
widespread protest. After a particu-
larly tumultuous year of such cases—
under the auspices of former Minister
of Justice Sigríður Á. Andersen, known
for her hard-line stance against asylum
seekers—Iceland changed its Law on
Foreigners in 2017 to provide special
protections to child refugees. How this
law was changed bears examination,
as it is very similar to how immigrant
regulations were changed earlier this
month.
First, it changed the text of Article
36 Section 2, which stated in part that
if more than 12 months have passed
since an application for international
p r o t e c t i o n h a s
b e e n s u b m i t -
ted to authorities
without a deci-
sion being made,
then that applica-
tion will be taken
into authoritative
c o n s i d e r a t i o n .
The emergency
measure changed
this period to nine
m o n t h s i f t h e
matter concerns
a child. Second,
i t changed the
text of Article 74
Section 2, which
stated that if no
decision has been
made on an appli-
cation for interna-
tional protection
for humanitarian
reasons within
18 months of first applying, then the
applicant can be issued a residence
permit. The emergency measure
changed this period to 15 months if the
matter concerns a child.
On the surface, these changes
appear to favour the child, as guaran-
teed protections if no decisions are
made within a shorter time frame than
the previous law allowed for. However,
it is important to remember one key
detail: not all applications for asylum
are even reviewed before decisions to
deport are made. Immigration author-
ities can, and very often do, simply
decide to deport child asylum seekers
without even examining the merits of
their cases.
As such, shortening the time frame
does not necessarily protect these
children at all; it merely shortens the
amount of time immigration authori-
ties have to decide to deport a child.
Greece is the word
Some readers may wonder how it is
that immigration authorities can make
such a life-altering (and in some cases,
life-ending) decision as a deporta-
tion without even taking a glance at
whether or not the asylum seeker in
question needs protection. The reason
is the Dublin Regulation, an interna-
tional agreement
to which Iceland
is party that has
been a subject of
great contention
for many years,
both in Iceland
and across Europe.
In a nutshell,
this agreement
grants states the
power to send
a s y l u m s e e k -
ers back to their
previous points
of departure if
they previously
r e g i s t e r e d f o r
asylum in other
countries. Super-
ficially, this seems
fair enough: why
should Ice land
grant asylum to
s o m e o n e h e r e
who already applied for asylum else-
where? This reasoning ignores the fact
that many first-entry countries for
refugees—namely, Italy and Greece—
require refugees to register with
authorities in those countries in order
to gain entry, regardless of whether
they want to remain in those countries
or head to another country in Europe.
Immigration authorities in Iceland,
by now, cannot plead ignorance of this
situation, yet they continue to invoke
the Dublin Regulation as if it gives them
absolutely no choice on the matter; they
interpret the agreement to mean they
are obliged to deport asylum seekers
to Greece and Italy, a sentiment Minis-
ter of Justice Þórdís Kolbrún Reykfjörð
Gylfadóttir has voiced herself, recently
telling reporters that “it is difficult to
not send children to Greece”.
This, though, is not true. Not only
can Iceland decide not to send asylum
seekers back; existing international
agreements that Iceland is party to
prohibit the practice. Iceland has
encoded in its laws the Convention for
the Protection of Human Rights and
Fundamental Freedoms, the Conven-
tion on the Rights of the Child, and
the Refugee Convention—all of which,
directly or indirectly, prohibit deporta-
tions of this nature.
Couple this with the well-docu-
mented deplorable and inhumane
conditions that refugees in Greece
must endure, and the cruelty of these
deportations is clear.
Form a committee?
All this makes the contentions of politi-
cians that Iceland needs to make some
grand legislative changes to its laws
in order to prevent these deportations
hard to swallow, and those who suggest
this are facing growing criticism. For
example, Kolbeinn Óttarsson Proppé,
an MP for the Left-Greens, penned a
lengthy column, published earlier this
month on Vísir, called "Show refugees
compassion." In it, Kolbeinn argued
that Iceland needs to make systemic
changes in order to prevent these
deportations, and proposed the forma-
tion of a special committee tasked with
gauging whether and how the Law on
Foreigners is followed.
For many Icelanders, however, this
proposal falls flat, with many rais-
ing the point that the time for action
has not only long since passed; these
deportations could be ended today
within the current legislative frame-
work. Amongst them was Pirate MP
Þórhildur Sunna Ævarsdóttir, who
pointed out the obvious on Facebook
in plain terms, writing, "All it takes is
for the Minister of Justice to decide to
abide Iceland's international obliga-
tions regarding refugees and children.
[The Minister] could decide today to
cease all child deportations to Italy and
Greece, where conditions are unsuit-
able for children."
And changing again
In the end, these most recent impend-
ing child deportations were halted,
with the Minister of Justice changing
the regulations so that the response
period for asylum decisions was short-
ened to 10 months. After this time,
immigration authorities are granted
the power—but not the obligation—
to actually examine the cases. This, as
with the 2017 changes, does not neces-
sarily provide greater protections for
children; it can also mean that immi-
gration authorities need to make
deportation decisions faster.
Ultimately, Iceland may continue
to repeat this pattern over and over:
immigration authorities make an
inhumane and arguably illegal depor-
tation decision, the public cries out,
and the Ministry makes minute, vague
changes to the regulations. Or it could
simply follow the letter and spirit of
the international agreements that it
contends to honour and uphold. Until
Iceland starts to do the latter, we may
continue to experience the former, over
and again.
“Does Iceland
need to change
its laws on
foreigners, or
adopt a more
charitable
interpretation
of them, in the
spirit in which
they were
written?”
"Children are innocent," says the placard
Words:
Andie Fontaine
Photo:
Art Bicnick
14 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 12— 2019News
Child Deportations
In Iceland
Does the law need changing, or enforcing?