This article is part of Mafaza Digital Zine that explores the concept of survival. You can read also: The Republic of Wounded Bodies by Nabil Muhammad, The Governance of Hope by Hsain al-Shehabi, To Fall from Nowhere by Nour Mousa, Identity Survival in The Diaspora by Ola Barqawi, The World is Not a Small Village by Raja Salim, Living Wounds: Violations & Victimhood by Sasha Zack, To Be Understood Without Talking by Shaunt Raffi, and Furnishing Memory by Ali Zaraket.
Read the Arabic Issue here.
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Kinana Issa
Syrian-Canadian certified coach specializing in Trauma, Mindfulness, Somatics, and Self-compassion. Community and Educational Programs Expert, and Community-based Participatory Researcher. Artist, Essayist, Screen, and Literary Writer. An honorary fellow of the IOWA University’s International Writing Program.
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Surviving war and oppression can hardly be verbalized, let alone finding the best tools for individual and collective healing while your survival is still ongoing. Yet, mental-emotional survival is something I have been obsessed with since I was a child. Among the books in my mother’s library, in the home in Damascus where I grew up, were simplified psychology books I read devotedly as a teenager. Later, despite limited access to non-governmental activities in the country, I found independent groups and institutions to work with on civic engagement as a tool for mental-emotional survival, which prepared me to help in establishing new ones. In 2011, Syria erupted in protest against the government’s oppressive actions and policies. Soon after, the government’s oppression escalated into a war. My commitment to Syrian civil society drove me to push back through further community engagement and humanitarian work, which was not well received by oppressive social and political forces on all sides.
Even after fleeing the war, my instinct was to continue supporting victims, survivors, and communities in every country I moved to. In the process, I put myself under extreme amounts of pressure and scrutiny for not finding a holistic solution to all my community’s struggles in Syria and exile. Only after a dedicated commitment to research, specialized training in trauma, personal recovery, and working with other communities, was I able to realize how trauma made me lose sight of my vulnerability and limitations. The more I learn, the more I can forgive myself and ground my understanding by acknowledging the responsibility of institutions and political powers, in addition to my own and that of my community. Self-reliance is important, but it has limits. It takes all of us to find compassionate solutions to the tragic human experience of suffering and trauma.
Our civilizations, as centers of community action, have evolved over millennia driven by a fundamental imperative: to protect against vulnerability and ensure the well-being and continuity of society. Most people center their lives around their communal and institutional webs of protection. Social Contract philosophers like Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau posit that individuals in a society willingly give up certain freedoms and agree to be governed by a social contract in exchange for protection and the maintenance of order. Yet, everything changes when human-made disasters occur, such as mass-repression and war. Communities and institutions can become a source of fear. Individuals are not only left to contend with the fragility of their bodies as they survive violence brought on by weaponry and mass destruction but also face the crippling impact of witnessing dehumanization and brutality become the norm. Even families, neighbours, and support networks may conform to structural violence. This phenomenon is well captured by Johan Galtung’s (1969) suggestion that at times of extreme adversity “structures richly endowed with structural violence often may also display above average incidence of personal violence”. That is to say, structural violence happens when some institutions and social structures harm people and create injustice.
Through a combination of personal and research-based narratives, this article will explore the process of surviving different forms of violence that refugees and people of colour may be subtly or explicitly subjected to. Some forms are cultural, structural, social, and political, while some are internalized and self-inflicted. Using cross-cultural, reference-based, and non-judgmental arguments, I will critically examine commonly used tactics in addressing the aftermath of violent trauma among refugees, as well as their host communities and institutions. I will review evolving contemporary understandings of trauma as a universal human experience, and advocate for realistic individual and collective trauma-healing tools needed to support our evolution as multi-cultural communities.
Structural Violence, Oppression, and War
Certain concepts need to be established to understand the experiences of refugees and members of marginalized communities. One is Structural Violence, which is the harm done to persons and groups through inequitable social, political, or economic structures. Unlike direct violence, such as physical attacks or verbal abuse, structural violence operates more subtly, through systems, institutions, and cultural norms. It often marginalizes certain groups, limiting their access to resources, opportunities, and rights. These limitations may lead to “Systemic Trauma” which can cause psychological, emotional, economic, spiritual, physical, or sexual harm.
State violence represents a potent form of structural violence that permeates societies, often leading to widespread societal violence and unrest. Syrian scholar Abd al-Rahman al-Kawakibi (1899), a turn of the 19th century analyst of tyranny from Aleppo, emphasizes how state violence functions as a tool of repression, silencing opposition and stifling demands for democratic reform. Through censorship, surveillance, and arbitrary detention, governments seek to maintain control and preserve the status quo, often at the expense of basic human rights and freedoms. In his book The Nature of Tyranny and the Struggle Against Slavery, a classic for many Arab speakers, he stresses that “Oppression manipulates facts in people’s minds, leading people to believe that whoever seeks the truth is sinful, that whoever abandons his rights is obedient, that the one who cries out [against oppression] is mischievous, that the perceptive is godless.”
Another concept is Internalized oppression, which occurs when an oppressed group or individual incorporates the oppressive message against their well-being and ends up oppressing others in turn. This does not mean, however, that there is no pushback after this happens. Many who suffer from internalized oppression do protest its dehumanizing effects, so they do not perpetuate the oppression upon others. Critical Social Theorists emphasize the agency of oppressed individuals and their capacity to resist and challenge oppressive structures even within themselves. The works of the renowned Black American author, theorist, educator, and social critic, bell hooks, explore how such people reclaim their humanity and resist internalizing oppressive norms and behaviors through self-reflection, dialogue, questioning dominant narratives, and thereby reclaim agency over their own lives. Nonetheless, such resistance comes at a price; structural violence can manifest in devastating ways, as cultural norms and ideologies get weaponized to justify atrocities. During times of war and oppression, such violence is characterized by the systemic denial of basic rights and dignity to entire populations.
Apocalypse in the body
To center the survivor’s experience, I need to adopt a more visceral approach, grounded in what I myself witnessed, and what I heard other survivors describe.
Atrocities of wartime imprint an inner version of the apocalypse that is constantly carried in the body. They leave deep marks in the psyche only after the body has physically trembled with the movement of heavy machinery and been shaped by their resounding echos. The molecules that vibrated as one with shockwaves carry the memory so well. The brain’s auditory processor now knows the visceral reactions and states of arousal the cries of children and victims can induce. We flee with intensely triggered bodies and immense feelings of loss and guilt for the friends and family that may still be under fire. We dig with our metaphorical bare hands and nails for our inner strength to maintain our integrity and humanity, while the news only recognizes us as one mass with no individual identities. Through the darkness and fear, our life forces struggle to carve the path for ourselves and those we love, clinging to the hope of liberation and the arrival of a new dawn.
Systems of the New Land
Some of us find safety in a new land, but that doesn’t end all struggles. Personally, despite being an artist and writer, a human rights worker, and a professional programs expert with a high command of the English language, it has been excruciatingly difficult to navigate life in Canada. While I was received with extreme kindness, it didn’t make resettlement a fun ride. At one point in my journey, my lawyer asked me to remember every detail that led me to seek asylum. This resulted in increased states of hypervigilance and physical fatigue that were synchronous with my memory’s stagnation. Syria was, and continues to be, ravaged by fires I felt helpless to extinguish, and some memories were clouded by the wounds I associated with them. Despite my efforts and successes in forming social relationships, I was isolated in my skin. I could not fully understand my struggle to adjust until I started prolonged training in trauma, mindfulness, somatic therapy, and mindful self-compassion.
It’s not easy to pursue individual salvation. In Trauma and Recovery, Judith Herman (1992) beautifully states that “recovery can take place only within the context of relationships; it cannot occur in isolation”. It was only by engaging with the perspectives of trauma experts, refugees, and other victims, that I was able to understand that trauma is a physical phenomenon that doesn’t go away through strong will alone. It can be suppressed and pushed down temporarily, but it continues to fester in the subconscious and manifests in somatic, cognitive, and physical health problems. In The Wisdom of Trauma, Canadian physician and renowned trauma expert Gabor Mate (2021), explains that “trauma involves a lifelong pushing down, a tremendous expenditure of energy of not feeling the pain. As we heal, that energy is liberated …[and] can be transformed into the energy of life”. He adds that suppressed emotions “do not disappear, they manifest in the body as illness”.
I learned along the way that to pursue collective salvation, we must provide safer spaces where both refugees and their host communities can cultivate the inner capacity to accept difficult feelings and allow them to be felt. This understanding defies most of the common narratives the West is socialized into. In the Mindful Path to Self-Compassion, Christopher Germer (2009), a renowned American clinical psychologist and co-creator of the Mindful Self-compassion program, explains that “self-compassion allows us to fully experience and process our emotions, without fear of being overwhelmed or consumed by them”. By cultivating compassion and the strength to accept the difficult emotions associated with trauma, and by providing support to the body that is carrying them, we can foster post-traumatic resiliency and growth. In his book In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness Dr. Peter Levine (2010), the developer of Somatic Therapy, emphasizes that the way we manage trauma can lead to significant personal transformation and growth, and adds that the paradox of trauma is that “it has both the power to destroy and the power to transform and resurrect” which recognizes that while trauma can inflict considerable harm, it can also foster personal development and resilience, a concept known as post-traumatic growth.
Systems, institutions, and workers play a critical role in providing safer trauma-informed, and culturally responsive spaces to bring forth the emergence of post-traumatic wisdom. Adjusting to life in a new place can be overwhelming as individuals navigate unfamiliar cultural norms, language barriers, and bureaucratic processes while trying to make sense of their experiences and more often than not are simultaneously trying to save their countries or those who they left under fire. In Canada for example, there are resources available for refugees, including educational resources, resettlement programs, mental health services, and community organizations, which are often not equipped to fully address the complex and multifaceted needs of individuals with traumatized bodies. There remains a gap in trauma-informed training across academic and learning institutions, settlements, community agencies, the healthcare sector, and language and skills learning programs. This gap needs to be filled by centering survivors and their voices as changemakers, leaders, and advisors.
Numerous studies on refugees and newcomers highlight the need for culturally sensitive services, language interpretation, and an appreciation of their unique traumas. Many refugees reported feeling pressured to assimilate and conform to societal norms, often at the expense of their own cultural identity and sense of self. In his article “Migration, Distress, and Cultural Identity,” Dinesh Bhugra (2004), Professor of Mental Health and Cultural Diversity at the Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology, and Neuroscience at King’s College London, explores how refugees’ efforts to assimilate can contribute to feelings of alienation, identity confusion, and psychological distress. Drawing on my experience as a refugee and working with refugees, I understand the frustration of being blamed for struggling to express our needs loudly and clearly, or for not responding typically to treatments shown to work for others, by administrators who fail to recognize our unique experiences and neurodiversity.
Collective Wounding
Thinking of a refugee as a unit that needs to integrate fully into a new society is misleading. In “Deconstructing Canada’s Discourse of Immigrant Integration,” Peter S. Li (2003), Professor Emeritus of Sociology at the University of Saskatchewan, published a research critiquing traditional assimilationist approaches to resettlement. In response, Li argues for a relational approach that respects refugees’ cultural identities and community ties, challenging narratives that prioritize assimilation over cultural diversity. Li’s approach advocates for policies that promote inclusive integration and social cohesion. Supporting Li’s Approach, a discussion paper produced by the UNHCR in 2014 argues that integration requires collaborative efforts. This involves refugees adapting to the host society while retaining their cultural identity, and host communities and public institutions welcoming refugees and striving to meet their diversity needs.
When individuals experience trauma, it is their communities, cultural identity, and support networks that support their recovery. However, when these communities and support networks undergo trauma too, recovery becomes very difficult. In Trauma and Recovery on War’s Border, Kathleen Allden and Nancy Murakami (2015) highlight the intersection of individual trauma and community resilience arguing that community trauma complicates and prolongs the recovery process for individuals. Trauma survivors within communities construct narratives to make sense of and bear witness to traumatic events, which are crucial for integrating the traumatic experience into personal and collective memory. After periods of war and oppression, societies often face significant challenges in rebuilding collective cohesion and initiating the collective action they need to produce to promote the healing of individual community members. Traumatic experiences can disrupt the social fabric of a community, eroding trust, cohesion, and social networks, leaving individuals feeling isolated and vulnerable.
Refugees have launched many initiatives to support each other and contribute to their host communities as a collective. The publication I’m writing for, Henna Platform, is just one example. When I reflect on the Syrian community, I find that the first years of resettlement efforts were focused on building bridges with Canadians, finding means of survival, and supporting social justice overseas. For Syrian refugees, it has become clearer that psychological survival also depends on coming together with others who share the collective wound. Only through togetherness can we discover meaning, both individually and collectively, that we can pass on to future generations, the surrounding communities, and humanity at large.
In Trauma and Recovery, Judith Herman (1992) argues that survivors of trauma often rely on narratives to reclaim agency over their experiences, validate their suffering, and establish a sense of coherence and meaning in the aftermath of violence. To accomplish this with refugees, we need safer and braver spaces to share experiences, understand emotions, and draw strength from collective solidarity. It also requires adopting a trauma-informed care approach that is more culturally responsive and can empower individuals to integrate storytelling, cultural practices, critical thinking skills, and collective meaning-making that not only validate their experience but also build bridges and foster empathy within the socially eroded group and with other communities.
In Unsettling Refugee Resettlement, Shauna Labman (2012) challenges the narrative that refugees can achieve success solely through individual effort. She discusses systemic barriers such as credential recognition, labour market access, and social discrimination that impact refugees’ ability to thrive independently. In my view, self-reliance will always be important as long as it’s kept in perspective. Despite their challenges, wounded communities have inherent strengths and resources that aid in their resilience and recovery. Collective healing efforts, grounded in cultural heritage, social support networks, and community solidarity, are crucial for promoting healing, rebuilding trust, and restoring a sense of hope and agency within the community.
Another perspective that seems absent from most scholarly work, is the importance of bringing love to the table. Few have succeeded in establishing love in a scholarly context because of its complex nature. In All About Love, bell hooks (1999), the renowned cultural critic and author, provides a profound and nuanced perspective on the matter. For her, love is crucial in the healing process for individuals and communities traumatized by violence and oppression. She emphasizes that love is more than just a feeling; it is an active practice and choice. Hooks also critiqued contemporary society’s reductive views of love, equating it with romance and overlooking its deeper and more substantive dimensions. Moreover, she highlighted how love is often misconstrued with certain power dynamics and methods of control rather than understood as a foundation for respect and equality. Hooks believed in love’s potential as a powerful force for healing and transformation for individuals and communities, and it is essential for personal and social change.
The collective is personal, be it in one’s native land or the new one. But a refugee is always seeking community and a sense of belonging— financially, emotionally, physically, and socially. However, this cannot be achieved without fostering an environment that supports cultivating a capacity to sit with difficult emotions and be comfortable with them so those emotions don’t keep blocking what we experience and label as positive emotions. While recovery may be misconceived as an absence of strong feelings such as anger, fear, sadness, and disgust, this can create unrealistic expectations for both the traumatized and those working with them. In actuality, recovery is becoming more comfortable with strong feelings and understanding what they reveal to us about the nature of our experiences and what we need to pay attention to. Post-traumatic wisdom and belonging come out of this understanding.
Creating safer spaces for healing and belonging requires revisiting our entire value system regarding trauma and community resilience. This includes reconsidering our understanding of traditionally positive emotions and states of being, such as love, hope, and compassion. This requires more than providing a physical space or the supervision of highly accomplished experts, it requires a culturally responsive approach rooted in the experiences and values of refugees. We must center self-compassion and love as core elements in the process. Refugees are survivors, and tapping into their inner vault of post-traumatic wisdom requires empathy, respect, transparency, collaboration, equity, courage, self-reflection, and education that identifies love as its main praxis.
Bibliography
Abdul Rahman Al-Kawakibi (1899). The Nature of Tyranny And the Devastating Results of Oppression, (For reference look up Amer Chaikhouni’s translation, 2021).
Johan Galtung (1969). “Violence, and Peace, and Peace Research”
Freire (1968). “Pedagogy of the Oppressed”
bell hooks (1999). “All About Love: New Visions”, (1994), “Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom”, (2003), “Teaching Community: A Pedagogy of Hope”.
Herman, J. L. (1992). “Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence – From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror.”
Gabor Mate. (2021) “The Wisdom of Trauma.”
Christopher K. Germer (2009). “The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion: Freeing Yourself from Destructive Thoughts and Emotions.”
Peter A. Levine (2010). “In an Unspoken Voice: How the Body Releases Trauma and Restores Goodness”
Mental Health Commission of Canada (2016). “Supporting the Mental Health of Refugees to Canada”.
Bhugra (2004). “Migration, Distress, and Cultural Identity”.
Li (2003). “Deconstructing Canada’s Discourse of Immigrant Integration”.
Kathleen Allden and Nancy Murakami (2015) “Trauma and Recovery on War’s Border: A Guide for Global Health Workers.”
Shauna Erin Labman (2012). “At law’s border: unsettling refugee resettlement.”
