unable, to help. In the midst of the pandemic, embassies across the Gulf were swarmed with citizens applying for help with repatriation. In the midst of airport shutdowns, canceled flights, and domestic lockdowns, overwhelmed staff fielded demands from workers needing everything from Covid-19 testing to food aid to help negotiating their termination. “People were lining up day after day in front of the embassies, and still not being seen,” says Kalush. In some cases, the migrants were caught in limbo, having been jettisoned by their employers but unwelcome in home countries that were unprepared to receive a massive wave of returnees. In some cases, however, the Gulf countries deported workers anyway—at times sending back packed flights that included passengers who tested positive for Covid-19 upon arrival. This revealed another troubling dynamic in the migrant labor equation: the delicate balance embassies must strike between taking care of their citizens while appeasing their oil-rich hosts. “For many nations, there is more than a labor exchange going on—it’s a whole complicated power balance,” notes Kalush. “Some are nervous to defend their citizens too much—they’re afraid if they push too hard, or ask for higher wages on their behalf, wealthy countries will just take their business elsewhere.” Other nations, such as Ethiopia, have been actively seeking more investment from Gulf nations, she adds, further freighting the repatriation debate. “They don’t want to lose those opportunities by getting into a diplomatic clash.” For countries like Nepal and Bangladesh, which are heavily dependent on remittances from the Gulf, such fallout could be disastrous. Last year, half of Nepal’s remittances and 73 percent of Bangladesh’s came from the GCC. /