PHILADELPHIA — Robert Barkat died at a nursing home in Yeadon, Pennsylvania, this week, his last and only wish unfulfilled — to see his son one more time.
The U.S. State Department refused to let the son enter the country from Pakistan to visit his stricken father, who had been treated for lung cancer at Mercy Fitzgerald Hospital in Darby.
Barkat, 74, known as Rocky, was given asylum in this country in 1995, after being persecuted in Pakistan because of his Christian religious beliefs. In 2019, the government granted him U.S. citizenship — he took the oath in Philadelphia.
His death marks the denouement to a story of how U.S. immigration policy tilts toward enforcement, giving with one hand and taking with the other, welcoming a father to live here permanently but denying him the comfort of seeing his child in his final months.
"It's a shame that the U.S. immigration system, which is squarely rooted in the notion of family unity and family reunion, was unable to find a way to permit Joarlais to see his father," said Philadelphia immigration attorney Alex Isbell, of the firm Palladino, Isbell & Casazza, who volunteered his services to press the case.
For years Barkat has been destitute, living on the streets and more recently moving from shelter to hospital to nursing home as his health deteriorated. Since at least October, son Joarlais Robert, 34, had repeatedly sought permission to come see and say goodbye to his father.
The federal government turned down his request for a visa even as doctors warned that time was short.
"He wasn't able to see his son," said Daniel Bonness, 29, a West Philadelphia engineer who became friends with Barkat when the older man was sleeping outside a neighborhood supermarket. "I will miss him."
The problem for son Robert was what's called "immigrant intent," a key concept in federal immigration law. If someone requests approval to visit the United States, the government assumes that the person intends to try to stay permanently.
To overcome that presumption, applicants must convince a consular officer that they have compelling reasons to return to their homelands, such as a spouse, property ownership, and involvement in social or religious organizations.
Meeting those standards does not guarantee approval.
People sometimes deliberately overstay their visas, or even use them to enter the United States while knowing they don't plan to go home. But in 2019 only 1.2% of those admitted into the country overstayed that permission, according to U.S. Customs and Border Protection. That's out of more than 55 million admissions.
In email interviews with The Inquirer, son Robert insisted he only wanted to see his father, to care for him at the end of his life. His wife, Asma, would remain in Pakistan.
Efforts to contact Robert in Pakistan were unsuccessful Tuesday. A State Department spokesperson said the agency cannot discuss the details of individual cases, as visa records are confidential by law.
Asylum is a protection reserved for those who cannot go home because they have been persecuted or have a well-founded fear of persecution.
Barkat was left brain-damaged by torture inflicted upon him in Pakistan because of his religion, records show. His son said that in 1990, Barkat helped build a church, which provoked a riot. The father was injured and imprisoned, and eventually fled the country, where less than 2% of 243 million people are Christian.
In the United States he suffered from congestive heart failure and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and, three years ago, became partially blind in one eye after misunderstanding the directions for his blood-pressure medication.
In March he was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma of the lungs, his life expectancy estimated at months. He was hospitalized in the fall, and died Sunday morning at Yeadon Rehabilitation & Nursing Center.
Bonness said he saw his friend's decline when he visited him at the nursing home Saturday night. The older man had to whisper to speak.
Typically, Bonness said, he didn't say "goodbye" to Barkat when they parted, knowing they would see each other again soon. This time, for some reason, he said goodbye — their final words.
The men shared a strong belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ.
On Tuesday Bonness thought about others who cared about Barkat and tried to help him, like the staff at Wah-Gi-Wah, a Pakistani restaurant in West Philadelphia. They made sure he had food, never charging for his meals.
Christopher Chambers, a Jefferson Health physician who began treating and advocating for Barkat more than a decade ago, earlier described him as someone who "had a light in his eyes and was a fun person."
One time, Chambers said, Barkat showed up with 30 pizzas for the staff. Another day, after a discussion about whether mango was the best flavor of ice cream, he appeared with a case of mangoes, six quarts of cream, and five pounds of sugar, insisting it be mixed into frozen treats for everyone.
Isbell, the immigration attorney, managed to get son Robert another consular interview. The son traveled four hours to Islamabad for what turned out to be a fresh rejection.
On Tuesday, Bonness was considering holding a memorial service for Barkat, perhaps in January. The disposition of his remains, currently at Marvil & Marvil-McFadden Funeral Homes, was unclear.
