In Refugee, Gratz explores how non-refugees treat those who are journeying through or landing in their home countries, weaving patterns among the people who meet Josef, Isabel, and Mahmoud. Gratz employs two kinds of non-refugees in his novel: those who dehumanize or ignore the protagonists’ plights, and those who are empathetic and attempt to help. Gratz demonstrates how when a group of people is dehumanized, it is easier for others to be unjust and cruel to those people. By contrast, Gratz shows how empathy and recognizing people’s humanity can make an enormous difference in people’s lives, and he calls on readers to share that empathy with refugees.
As a Jewish person, Josef is frequently dehumanized by the Nazis, both in Germany and as he and his family try to flee the country; this gives Nazis the license to then abuse and torture Jewish people. Thus, Gratz argues how easy it is to mistreat people when they choose not to recognize the humanity of others. Josef describes an incident in which he is called to the front of his class and spoken of as though he is “subhuman.” Josef is humiliated, and this belittlement is what allows the Germans to mistreat Jewish people so easily, because the Germans think of them as lesser. This remains true once Josef and his family board the ship to Cuba: he and the other children on the St. Louis are called “Jewish rats” by one of the ship’s Nazi officers, Otto Schiendick. This overt dehumanization is what gives the Nazis the permission to be so brutal, such as when Schiendick and other Nazi soldiers later ransack Josef’s family’s cabin. In this incident, the soldiers do unnecessarily cruel things like smashing everything in sight tearing the head off of Ruthie’s stuffed bunny. Yet perhaps the worst act of injustice is when the Jews are prevented from leaving the ship and entering Cuba, despite the fact that a return to Germany will most likely result in their deaths. One of the Cuban officers, Mariano Padron, apologizes to Josef, saying, “I’m just doing my job.” The ease with which he is able to ignore the plight of the Jewish passengers, shows how he, too, is complicit in the refugees’ suffering despite exhibiting some empathy. Devaluing the Jewish people’s humanity is what enables him to look away from the injustice and cruelty toward which he is sending them.
Mahmoud also encounters similar injustice, as Gratz includes many episodes in which people try to take advantage of Mahmoud and his family. Many of the actions of the people the family encounters are truly despicable, as these people attempt to exploit refugees who are already so vulnerable. When Mahmoud’s family is trying to get a boat from Turkey to Greece, they are told day after day that the boat is delayed and will come tomorrow. They are then forced to pay merely to be taken to a shelter, and then they are told they have to pay 5,000 pounds each—including for Mahmoud’s infant sister, Hana—in order to stay at the mall. Then, the family is convinced to pay for life vests which turn out to be fake. These incidents show how little people care for their wellbeing: others are willing to endanger the refugees’ lives just to make money and improve their own situation. Later on, when Mahmoud and his family travel to Hungary, they are prevented from entering the country. The Hungarians fire tear gas canisters at the refugees, and then Mahmoud and his family are thrown in a detention center, where the soldiers call them “parasites” and “filth.” Mahmoud understands that they are not criminals, since they’ve done nothing wrong other than try to escape a country that is being bombed, and yet they are still treated as vermin. This constant dehumanization is demoralizing and only adds to the family’s misery and destitution as they go through the most difficult period of their lives.
Gratz counters these incidents with episodes in which people recognize the refugees’ humanity and empathize with them. He shows how even the smallest acts of kindness can make a huge difference to these most vulnerable populations. For example, when Isabel and her family arrive in the Bahamas, tourists start to throw them anything they have—aspirin, bottles of water, bags of food. Isabel’s heart “ache[s] with gratitude,” as she knows that this kindness might mean the difference between “death and survival” for her pregnant mother, Teresa. Recognizing people’s most basic needs and offering a small amount of assistance, Gratz shows, can go a long way to helping them and making them feel valuable. In another instance, Mahmoud is relieved in Turkey when a man named Samih Nasser allows him and his family to sleep in his office in a car dealership. Nasseer had been a refugee himself, and thus understands the plight of these desperate people. It makes sense that a fellow refugee would want to help Mahmoud and his family, but his simple offer of a place to sleep highlights the idea that many people could offer some kind of assistance to people passing through—it just takes a small amount of empathy.
The climax of Gratz’s novel draws connections between his three main characters: Gratz reveals that Isabel’s grandfather Lito was Mariano Padron, the Cuban officer who turned the St. Louis away and sent Josef and the other Jewish refugees back to Europe. Lito worries, reflecting on the incident, about how many of them died because he was “just doing his job.” This contrasts with Josef’s younger sister, Ruthie, who is able to survive the Holocaust and takes in Mahmoud and his family while they are getting back on their feet in Germany. The difference between the outcomes of these two stories shows the importance of treating refugees with empathy and respect, and not looking away when people are facing injustice. This is the message Gratz aims to impart on the reader, in the hopes that they, too, might provide essential aid to refugees in need.
Injustice and Cruelty vs. Empathy and Social Responsibility ThemeTracker
Injustice and Cruelty vs. Empathy and Social Responsibility Quotes in Refugee
The Nazis laughed, and Josef’s face burned hot with shame. He struggled in the men’s arms, trying to break free. “I’ll be a man soon enough,” Josef told them. “I’ll be a man in six months and eleven days.”
The Nazis laughed again. “Six months and eleven days!” the Brownshirt said. “Not that he’s counting.” The Brownshirt suddenly turned serious. “Perhaps you’re close enough that we should take you to a concentration camp too, like your father.”
Mahmoud watched as these two boys attacked the boy with the bread, a boy he didn’t even know. He felt the stirrings of indignation, of anger, of sympathy. His breath came quick and deep, and his hands clenched into fists. “I should do something,” he whispered. But he knew better.
Head down, hoodie up, eyes on the ground. The trick was to be invisible. Blend in. Disappear.
Instead, Herr Meier lowered a screen with the faces and profiles of Jewish men and women on it and proceeded to use Josef as an example of how to tell a real German from a Jew. He turned Josef this way and that, pointing out the curve of his nose, the slant of his chin. Josef felt the heat of that embarrassment all over again, the humiliation of being talked about like he was an animal. A specimen. Something subhuman.
“Jewish rats,” Schiendick said, sneering at Josef and the other kids. Many of them looked at their shoes, and even Josef looked away, trying not to draw the big man’s attention. Josef clenched his fists, and his ears burned hot with frustration and embarrassment at his helplessness.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Isabel cried. Her heart ached with gratitude toward these people. Just a moment’s kindness from each of them might mean the difference between death and survival for her mother and everyone else on the little raft.
“I wish from the bottom of my heart that you will land soon, Little Man,” Officer Padron said again. “I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job.”
Josef looked deep into Officer Padron’s eyes, searching for some sign of help, some hint of sympathy. Officer Padron just looked away.
“We’re not criminals!” one of the other men in the cell yelled at him.
“We didn’t ask for civil war! We didn’t want to leave our homes!” another man yelled.
“We’re refugees!” Mahmoud yelled, unable to stay silent any longer. “We need help!”
“Don’t you see?” Lito said. “The Jewish people on the ship were seeking asylum, just like us. They needed a place to hide from Hitler. From the Nazis. Mañana, we told them. We’ll let you in mañana. But we never did.” Lito was crying now, distraught. “We sent them back to Europe and Hitler and the Holocaust. Back to their deaths. How many of them died because we turned them away? Because I was just doing my job?”
He was filled with sadness for the boy his age. The boy who had died so Ruthie could live. But Mahmoud was also filled with gratitude. Josef had died so Ruthie could live, and one day welcome Mahmoud and his family into her house.