Two weeks into Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the Office of the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees estimated that more than 2 million people have fled the conflict, most presumably into the European Union. As Western news outlets reported on a refugee crisis that’s the largest since World War II, many media figures’ comments revealed racially biased attitudes. A French reporter on BFN TV said, “We’re not talking here about Syrians fleeing. … We’re talking about Europeans”. On CBS News, foreign correspondent Charlie D’Agata said, “This isn’t Iraq or Afghanistan. … This is a relatively civilized, relatively European city”.
Meanwhile, the Nigerian Consulate lodged a formal objection to a racial divide in how those fleeing Ukraine were treated in neighboring E.U. countries: Reports say Black and Brown migrants from Ukraine waited in longer queues and had to endure more protocols, while White Ukrainians went through more quickly. Depending on how the war proceeds, many may wait for months or years without a firm decision about whether and where they can stay.
So how did migrants from Europe’s last refugee crisis fare once they arrived?
We studied asylum seekers who arrived in Sweden during the 2015 migration surge, when the country received 162,500 asylum applications, more per capita than any other European country. Specifically, we studied those who were in limbo while they waited to learn their fate. On average, asylum seekers in our study waited 461 days for an initial decision.
Limbo is a dire personal state: While those who remained waiting generally had positive attitudes toward Swedish institutions, they suffered on a personal level on par with those who were formally rejected. Once accepted, people did better; they rated their personal well-being higher and reported positive attitudes toward Sweden and its people. Our research suggests that governments may wish to quickly offer refugees residence permits, however temporary, to improve refugees’ well-being and trust in the government.
How we did our research
We conducted up to four surveys of the same asylum seekers between April 2016 and November 2017. We recruited participants who had not yet received a migration decision outside the Swedish Migration Agency’s facilities in Gothenburg and Malmö, the two largest hubs for asylum seekers. At the end of the first survey, 782 agreed to give their contact information and to be contacted again for additional surveys. The first survey was administered in person and the next three online. Most participants took the first survey between Aug. 15 and Sept. 22, 2016; the second between Oct. 6 and Nov. 9, 2016; the third between Dec. 14, 2016 and Feb. 4, 2017; and the fourth between Oct. 16 and Nov. 10, 2017. Surveys were in Arabic or English.
In all surveys, we asked about life satisfaction and perceived health. Besides these questions on well-being, we also asked several questions about their trust in Swedish institutions and trust in Swedish people. We measured trust in Swedish institutions with three questions that create a combined scale, and used a single question for trust in ordinary Swedes. In the third and fourth surveys, we added questions about whether the individual had received a migration decision yet, and if so, whether their application had been approved or rejected. Of the 782 who initially agreed to join our study at the end of the first survey, 199 answered the questions about their asylum application outcome.
More of our respondents were male and Arabic-speaking than was true for asylum seekers overall in Sweden that year. Otherwise, our respondents were relatively representative of that population, especially in age.
Sweden’s migration decisions deeply affected asylum seekers
When we examined those who reported their migration decisions in the third and fourth surveys, we found that those accepted for residency ranked themselves 29 percentage points higher on self-reported health than those who were rejected, and 24 percentage points higher than those still waiting for a decision. Fully 48 percent of those rejected and in limbo reported poor health.
We found a similar pattern of effects on life satisfaction, with those accepted ranking themselves 21 percentage points higher than those rejected and 18 percentage points higher than those still in limbo.
Accepted asylum seekers reported trusting Swedish institutions 20 percentage points more than those who had been rejected and 13 percentage points more than asylum seekers in limbo. (Because of inherent statistical uncertainty, we cannot say for sure that the numerical difference in institutional trust between rejected asylum seekers and those who are still waiting is statistically valid.) Similarly, those accepted for asylum reported more trust in ordinary Swedes than did those who were denied. Rejected asylum seekers also appear less trusting in Swedes compared to those left in limbo.
What does this mean for today’s refugee surge?
Of course, today’s refugees are arriving in a very different climate than did the 2015 asylum seekers. In many receiving countries, like Poland, the public supports welcoming the Ukrainians, something the racially tinged rhetoric suggests. Even far-right party leaders in Spain, Italy, and France are saying they welcome these refugees, although in 2015 they overwhelmingly opposed the newcomers. Second, most of the Black and Brown migrants are students who will probably return to their countries of origin, and thus are less likely to be met with antagonism.
And yet there are some similarities. During the 2015 refugee crisis, on average, people in E.U. countries supported welcoming the refugees; only over time, as more arrived, did that welcome turn into resistance. Further, many of today’s migrants may remain in limbo for much longer than just the few weeks or months they may be hoping for now. They will have to navigate their circumstances in new countries, languages and cultures, as did the last wave of refugees.
That limbo hurts asylum seekers, leaving them unhappy and unwell, our research suggests. Policymakers who want the best for Ukrainian refugees may wish to set up procedures allowing quick decisions about their fate.
Nazita Lajevardi (@NazitaLajevardi) is an assistant professor of political science at Michigan State University and author of “Outsiders at Home: The Politics of American Islamophobia” (Cambridge University Press, 2020). Jacob Sohlberg (@JacobSohlberg) is an associate professor of political science at the University of Gothenburg. Peter Esaiasson is a professor of political science at the University of Gothenburg.