Today, both the United States and Japan are wrestling with complex questions of immigration and refugee policy, navigating these pressures to arrive at very different answers. The United States, long defined by its identity as a nation of immigrants, has sharply curtailed refugee admissions and tightened immigration enforcement, triggering a national debate that now extends well beyond policy into questions of constitutional principle and national identity. Japan, historically cautious about immigration, is slowly expanding pathways for refugees and foreign workers even as political resistance hardens and public anxiety grows. The gap between the two countries' trajectories is striking and instructive.
This Forum brings together scholars, practitioners, and advocates from the USJF community to examine immigration and refugee policy in both countries: its human costs, its structural drivers, and what each society's choices reveal about its values and its future.
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Based on strong requests from the international community, including the United States, Japan’s modern history of refugee resettlement began in 1978 with the acceptance of “Indochinese refugees.” Shortly thereafter, Japan acceded to the Refugee Convention in 1981 and established formal refugee status determination procedures. However, the number of recognized refugees has remained low ever since, with only 183 individuals granted refugee status and 391 additional individuals receiving complementary protection status in 2025. In 2010, Japan launched a third-country resettlement program, initially accepting 30 Burmese refugees per year from camps in Thailand. While criticized for the small scale compared to other nations, the program followed a policy of "starting small and growing over time." Although the annual quota eventually increased to 60, the actual numbers have consistently fallen short of this capacity (as of the end of 2025). Amidst these challenges, the Japanese government responded to the Syrian crisis by agreeing to accept approximately 150 Syrian refugees as international students over a five-year period starting in 2017. Parallel to government efforts, civil society also took action: in 2016, the Japan Association for Refugees (JAR) began a program for Syrian students in Turkey, and in 2021, Pathways Japan became an independent entity, successfully facilitating the arrival of over 200 individuals by the 2025 fiscal year. Furthermore, to reach those beyond the scope of higher education, Mobility for Humanity was established in June 2025. This initiative focuses on resettlement through employment, creating "win-win" scenarios for both corporations and local communities (including municipal governments). We believe this sector has the greatest potential for scaling up intake; we expect it to serve as a Japanese model that can be adapted and expanded across other Asian nations. These new approaches, which involve a broader range of stakeholders than traditional methods, are formally recognized by the United Nations as "complementary pathways." |
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Japan is often described as a country that has not embraced immigration. In reality, however, more than 4.12 million foreign residents were living in Japan as of the end of 2025, playing essential roles in sustaining local communities. The number of children with immigrant and refugee backgrounds—many of whom were born and raised in Japan—is also increasing, with increasingly diverse backgrounds. Amid these changes, it was reported in December 2025 that the Japanese government had begun considering the creation of a “social inclusion program,” signaling that Japan is now at a critical turning point in how it approaches immigration. Through my work supporting children from diverse backgrounds with Japanese language and academic learning, as well as running a scholarship program for students pursuing higher education, I have seen many young people striving to contribute to Japanese society. Rather than reinforcing divisions such as “immigrants” and “foreigners,” it is essential to update our understanding and recognize that people of diverse backgrounds are already supporting Japan. The question now is whether Japan can build systems that invest in people as contributors to society. Such investment will be key to shaping the country’s future. |
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In Japan, discussions regarding immigrants and the acceptance of foreign nationals are often framed as a short-term response to labor shortages. In schools, however, a "multicultural society" has already become a daily reality. The landscape of the classroom as seen by today's children is decidedly changing compared to what most adults experienced during their own childhoods. It is not uncommon for multiple students who speak no Japanese to transfer into a school in the middle of the term. Schools accept all children who live in their district and seek public education. However, on the ground, schools are constantly scrambling to secure personnel and budget, and to develop the support systems needed to handle these sudden enrollments. By the time additional teachers are finally secured, the influx may have already paused. In terms of dealing with sudden arrivals, there is a unique difficulty that differs from supporting other students with special needs. While I appreciate the challenges of administrative design, I also see many instances where the support of local NPOs and residents has become a vital strength. At the same time, recent challenges in schools are gradually expanding beyond just Japanese language instruction to include efforts that recognize students’ native language and cultural roots. "Multicultural coexistence" (tabunka kyosei) cannot be achieved through ideology alone; it requires substantial preparation, design, and continuous investment. Even if the acceptance of foreign nationals is driven by labor needs, the children growing up in Japan will remain here regardless of shifts in policy. That is why I feel we must view them not as a burden, but as an investment in the next generation. Japanese children today, growing up in an environment where having friends with foreign roots is the norm, are seeing a different landscape than their parents' generation. Can we nurture the ability to build a society that includes people of diverse backgrounds? It feels as though it is not just a question of our immigration policy; it is the maturity of our society itself that is being tested. |
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The experience of immigrants in Japan is often framed through the lens of the "labor force." On the ground, however, we see a sense of isolation characterized by limited social connections—summed up in the common sentiment: "I can't make friends with Japanese people." There is a significant gap between simply having a job and feeling like a participating member of society. Immigrants are accepted either as a means to fill labor shortages or as "human resources" valued for their high-level skills. However, there should be a fundamental distinction between being economically "utilized" and "co-creating value" as a long-term member of society. As we transition from the Technical Intern Training Program to the new training and employment system, Japan has learned much through the process of accepting diverse foreign workers with varied potential. This has occurred within the context of Japan's "membership-based" employment model, which differs from the "job-based" models often found elsewhere. Leveraging this experience, Japan has the potential to envision a social structure that differs from Western models. How, then, can this potential be realized? Much of it is shaped not just through institutional systems, but within the relationships built through daily life. Given this context, how will Japan position immigrants within its society? The question now is whether we will design this inclusion intentionally or continue to accept them under a veil of ambiguity. |
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At the Japan ICU Foundation, we’ve been working to develop education-based pathways for refugees that link Japanese language training with access to higher education and, ultimately, employment. Since 2017, together with Pathways Japan and a group of language schools and universities, we have supported 235 refugee-background students from Afghanistan, Syria, and Ukraine to travel to Japan to study and build new lives. At their core, these pathways are a “win-win-win.” They provide refugees with access to safety and opportunity, help address labor and demographic challenges in Japan, and create space for meaningful exchange that enriches communities and broadens perspectives. This work is unfolding at a moment of growing tension. Conflict and war have driven global displacement to record levels, with more than 120 million people forced from their homes. At the same time, under the Trump administration, refugee admissions in the United States have effectively collapsed, and immigration policies have tightened significantly. Japan, meanwhile, has not traditionally been seen as open to refugees or immigration, but in practice it offers viable pathways through existing laws for people to study, train, work, and build long-term futures. I certainly never expected Japan to become more open to refugees and immigrants than the United States during my lifetime. Yet that is increasingly the reality, and it underscores the importance of continuing to build practical, values-driven pathways that expand opportunity while strengthening societies. |
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The United States was forged by those seeking sanctuary and a better life. This enduring legacy is embodied by the Statue of Liberty, our "Mother of Exiles," who stands as a beacon of hope for people fleeing persecution and war. Immigrants are the bedrock of our nation, fueling our economy and enriching our cultural tapestry. Following the violence in Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam in 1975, millions fled, leading to the largest refugee resettlement in American history. Since then, we have continued to shelter those escaping countries torn by war and extreme hardship. Today, in President Trump’s second term, we face an era marked by severe asylum restrictions, immigration cuts, and mass deportations. It is a profound moral failure to turn away terrified asylum seekers or to fracture families through deportation, especially when America is the only home they have ever known. As the United States marks its 250th anniversary, we must honor the true foundation of our success: immigrants. Amidst this growing hostility, Americans from coast to coast are rising up to protect one another. By championing vital legislation like the Southeast Asian Deportation Relief Act, we will keep families united and permanently end cruel cycles of forced displacement and tragedy. |
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Over the past decade, the U.S. immigration debate has been defined by images of people crossing the U.S.-Mexico border – treated as both the problem and the solution. Seal it tighter, fund it more heavily, and order will follow. But this framing keeps policy reactive, narrowing the debate to the wrong frontier. Migration is not primarily a security problem; it is a symptom of deeper conditions that enforcement spending cannot resolve. According to the UNHCR, the Americas host 19% of the world’s forcibly displaced people. This is not a border management issue; it’s a geopolitical one, demanding foreign policy responses. Sustainable solutions require regional cooperation to address root causes before people reach the border. This means redirecting U.S. foreign policy towards economic development and political stability across the Americas, expanding legal pathways such as guest worker programs tied to U.S. labor shortages (thereby relieving pressure on the asylum system), and modernizing immigration courts currently facing a backlog of 3.3 million cases. Now, immigration is at the center of a broader challenge: a test of constitutional principles affecting everyone. As of May 1st, 2026, over 60,000 people are detained, 73% with no criminal history. Masked agents enter homes without judicial warrants. Refugee and Temporary Protected Status holders are having their legal status revoked, leaving thousands newly undocumented and vulnerable. Legal permanent residents face scrutiny for their political views. These are not immigration policies; they are precedents. When green cards and student visas are conditioned on political loyalty, this is no longer about who gets to cross the border; it’s about who gets to dissent. The debate is no longer just about immigration policy. It is, fundamentally: What does it mean to be American? |
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Immigration is a two-way privilege, not a right. For me, immigrating to America was a profound privilege. Becoming an American has been one of life’s greatest honors. Growing up in a war zone, the words “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” in the Declaration of Independence gave me hope and propelled me to earn my place here. Millions want this opportunity and do not get it; I do not take that for granted. My story echoes that of many immigrants who actively choose to become American and work hard to earn it, understanding they have no innate right to it. On the other side, the countries to which people want to immigrate are also in a privileged position. The U.S. is the top destination for international migrants, a testament to its power in attracting human capital. This privilege is often misunderstood. Debating immigration without acknowledging this dynamic misses the opportunity for the creation of common-sense policy. Individuals must earn the privilege to enter, and countries have the privilege of choosing who they accept. People do not have an innate right to simply cross a border and reap another country’s benefits. Likewise, a country cannot remain competitive without attracting the best talent. A desired country is like a cherished home: you know its heart, its needs, and the dreams you want to protect, so it chooses who to welcome inside with great care. Some come for a limited time to share their skills, others as visitors who you welcome with warmth, and a few you embrace forever as family. That sovereign choice, guided by a clear framework, is what keeps the home strong, safe, and full of promise. |
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I asked my small group of immigrant women in filmmaking how they manage “competence perception.” To build trust with an audience, they need to see you as both benevolent and competent, and as a communication consultant, I’m constantly looking for strategies to establish these points. As National Geographic Explorers, none of us lacks credentials, but all three of us are small, look "ethnic" (from Iran, India, and Korea), and have slight accents. Research shows these features can negatively affect perceived competence, and we've all had to work harder to prove our expertise. But something valuable emerges from this challenge. We found different ways to establish competence, less like listing accomplishments, more like a process of engagement. We seemed less intimidating entering communities, and encountered more genuine openness. We showed expertise by discussing the impact of our work, asking questions, offering solutions, and letting knowledge surface naturally. Strategies that leave a lasting impression. |