Refugees with a record face shock -- deportation

For Sokha Sun, the choice seemed simple: Facing a lengthy imprisonment and legal battle even after completion of his sentence on a gun charge, he simply agreed to be deported to Cambodia -- something most people thought would never happen.

On March 22, it became clear that the 23-year-old Cambodian, who came to the United States as a 3-week-old refugee, had bet wrong.

After decades of refusing to enter an agreement to accept criminal deportations of its citizens, the Cambodian government gave in, paving the way for Sun and nearly 1,500 other refugees to be sent to a war-ravaged country they barely know.

About 100 of the Cambodians are currently in federal custody. Most have been released under supervision.

Sun served 366 days in prison for possession of a stolen firearm in 2001. He was free less than three months before the unexpected thaw in U.S.-Cambodian relations and subsequent order to report back to the Immigration and Naturalization Service. Now in INS detention, he's a prime candidate for deportation.

His sister, Niki, is terrified.

"Back then, there wasn't a deportation agreement," she said. "There's no way he would have pleaded guilty. He would have gone to trial to fight. Any Cambodian would do anything possible to stay here."

He may have little choice. The first deportations to Cambodia are expected early next week, with Mao Chan, another young immigrant in custody in Seattle, scheduled to be on the first flight with five other deportees from around the country. Chan was convicted of several felony assault charges.

The timing of their removal depends in part on the Cambodian government, which must provide travel documents. Chan and five others have received those papers, and will be the first to go, an INS official confirmed yesterday.

The sudden reversal of fortune for the 1,500 potential deportees sent shock waves through Washington's large Cambodian community, which numbers about 15,000 -- the third-largest in the United States.

Most of the people facing deportation came to the United States as children. If their families had taken them through the citizenship process, none would be subject to deportation.

But now, a lifetime later, few have much knowledge of Cambodian culture, or even the language. Their relatives worry that they will be abandoned to the harsh conditions of the impoverished country.

"It's just like throwing these people away," said Lyvan Sawn, executive director of Khmer Community of Seattle/King County, which represents about 7,000 immigrants.

Sawn's organization has organized a forum on the issue to be held from 9:30 a.m. to noon Saturday, June 22, at the Rainier Vista Community Center, 4500 Martin Luther King Jr. Way S.

For many refugee children, an unusually wide generation gap may have led to youthful mistakes that now carry a stiff price, Sawn said. The children absorbed American culture and language faster than their parents. And while parents held tight to cultural traditions, their children quickly adopted different values.

"The biggest problem was that Cambodian parents did not like their children becoming boyfriends and girlfriends before they were married," Sawn said.

Cultural differences caused many young people to leave home early -- drawing them in to all kinds of problems, Sawn said.

"But now they've grown up, they know their mistakes, they've got jobs and families and have become productive members of society," Sawn said.

Some fear that the deportees, who in most cases have already completed prison terms, will face what could be life behind bars.

Several Phnom Penh newspapers have reported that Prime Minister Hun Sen plans to jail the deportees as soon as they arrive in Cambodia.

In May, The Cambodia Daily quoted Sen as saying: "America has asked the Cambodian government to accept Khmers that went to America illegally or were convicted in America. ... Persons who were put in prisons in America, when they return they have to stay in Prey Sar."

Prey Sar is a Phnom Penh lockup for political prisoners where torture is likely, according to a 2002 Human Rights Watch World Report on Cambodia.

However, an official at the U.S. Embassy in Phnom Penh said yesterday that Cambodia plans to repatriate "those who have served their sentences for their crimes."

"They may have to be kept in some kind of temporary place until they can be resettled," he said. "The Cambodian government has asked that we send small groups so they can be resettled in an appropriate way."

The embassy spokesman said Cambodia signed the deportation agreement this year because the United States negotiated more rigorously after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. But he emphasized that the U.S. Naturalization Act, which authorizes deportation of those convicted of some crimes, applies to all countries.

Sun's situation is all too familiar to T.C. Duong, of the South East Asia Resource Center in Washington D.C.

"People are often told, 'Why don't you just sign this agreement, they are never going to have (a deportation) agreement with Cambodia -- and essentially you will be set free under supervised release," Duong said. "A lot of people didn't proceed with legal avenues."

While non-citizens living in the United States have long risked deportation if convicted of a serious crime, Congress in 1996 mandated detention and deportation for aliens convicted of crimes deemed "aggravated felonies," which include shoplifting, driving while drunk, marijuana possession.

"Crimes that would not be classified as felonies under state or local laws are now deportable offenses," Duong said.

The Resource Center opposes the removal of Southeast Asians to countries where they and their families were persecuted during years of war and revolution.

It notes that the State Department affirms "unequivocally" that Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam continue to be characterized by gross and widespread human rights violations.

"We fear that individuals forcibly deported to Southeast Asia would be particularly targeted for human rights violations," Duong said.

Sun's family fled Cambodia along with about 200,000 other refugees in the aftermath of Pol Pot's genocide, which killed an estimated 2 million people.

But federal officials say the rules are clear.

"The Cambodian nationals who are affected by this -- they came as refugees, but part of being a refugee is that you agree to live your life lawfully and you agree to abide by the laws of the United States," said the INS representative, who asked not to be named.

"Once you commit a crime you forfeit your right to stay in the U.S. and you no longer have a right to refuge in this country."

Seattle Federal Public Defender Jay Stansell, who represents Mao Chan, said he has serious concerns about his clients' safety, as well as the precedent his pending deportation represents.

"If there's a formalized policy of sending people back to maximum security prison, I think that's outrageous," Stansell said. "Our fear is that the government will claim that it is reasonable that thousands of others can expect to be deported."

Stansell, who has helped win the release of at least 300 immigrants who were being held indefinitely in INS detention, said he's trying to find a non-governmental organization in Cambodia to monitor the treatment of the deportees.

But for the 54 Cambodians Stansell helped free from indefinite INS detention, freedom could once again be in the balance.

"The worst part is the uncertainty," said Niki Sun. "No one has any idea what is going to happen to him, will he be held in jail, are they going to torture him? He's never even been in Cambodia, he was born in a refugee camp in Thailand, it's not his country -- He's like an American kid. He doesn't even speak the language. How's he going to work? Where's he going to live?"