KAWAGUCHI, Aug 17 — Mahircan Yucel moved to Japan a dozen years ago as a teenager fleeing sectarian violence in Turkey. He learned Japanese, got married, had two children and grew to love his adopted homeland. But Japan has refused to accept him and could force him to leave.

"The truth is I have lived in Japan for such a long time,” he said on a recent evening in a small living room that doubles as his infant son’s bedroom. "All I want to do is work and carry out a decent life.”

Yucel, 27, is one of about 1,300 ethnic Kurds who have settled in Kawaguchi, an industrial city north of Tokyo, and in the neighbouring city of Warabi. They live in a perpetual limbo, seeking protection as refugees in a country that is among the most reluctant in the world to give it.

Though the government has issued temporary permits allowing many to stay for years, no Turkish Kurd has ever been granted refugee status in Japan, which would allow them to settle here permanently. Their plight offers a stark illustration of this insular nation’s approach to refugees as it comes under pressure to admit more amid the world’s worst migration crisis since World War II.

Japan values ethnic homogeneity and has long guarded fiercely against outsiders. According to a United Nations report, migrants represent less than 2 per cent of the total population, compared with 14 per cent in the United States. Because of Japan’s shrinking, aging population, many have proposed allowing more immigration to jump-start its stagnant economy. But the government and the public have resisted.

Turkish Kurds drink on a street in Warabi, Japan, July 31, 2016. Japan is an easy destination for Kurds seeking asylum from Turkey because they do not need visas to travel there. — Picture by Ko Sasaki/The New York Times

At the same time, growing numbers have sought asylum in Japan, and almost all of them have been rejected or told to wait. More than 7,500 people applied for refugee status in 2015, up 52 per cent from a year earlier. The government granted asylum to just 27 of them.

In an appearance at the UN General Assembly last September, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe said the country needed to focus on its economy before considering whether to accept more refugees or immigrants.

Nearly 14,000 people in Japan are in some stage of an asylum process that usually lasts more than three years and that some critics say is designed to deter new migrants from applying. Asylum seekers may work while they wait for an answer, but those denied refugee status can be given temporary permits that prohibit them from working while giving them no living stipends.

Yasuhiro Hishida, assistant to the director of Japan’s Refugee Status Recognition Office, said officials suspect widespread abuse of the refugee process. Most applicants come from countries that are not currently considered conflict zones, including Nepal, Vietnam and Sri Lanka, he said, suggesting they are economic migrants rather than refugees fleeing persecution.

Immigrant advocates say the government exaggerates the number of unfounded refugee claims. "In reality, there are so many people who are waiting and are facing a life of danger,” said Shiho Tanaka, spokeswoman for the Japanese Association for Refugees.

With the native Japanese population declining, she added, "there are companies that want to hire them and need labourers.”

Tomoyuki Oka,a professor at Tokyo Gakugei University, teaches Japanese at a Kurdish cultural association in Warabi, Japan, July 24, 2016. — Picture by Ko Sasaki/The New York Times

Yucel said he and his family fled Turkey because they were afraid the government would brand them as terrorists and imprison them. Now, watching events in Turkey from afar, including a war between the government and Kurdish militants in the southeast and the recent failed military coup, Yucel says he could never go back.

"If you see my country, there is a lot of bullying and people being killed,” he said, growing visibly agitated. "I can’t even speak anymore.”

Yucel married a Japanese-Brazilian woman with permanent residency, but that does not allow him to work in Japan legally. The authorities detained one of his elder brothers this spring after he overstayed a temporary permit, and Yucel fears he could be next.

Kurds first began arriving from Turkey and seeking asylum in Japan in the early 1990s, as the Turkish government battled an insurgency by Kurdish militants. Japan was an easy destination as Turkish citizens do not need visas to travel here. As family and friends followed, they settled around Kawaguchi and Warabi. Local residents named the community "Warabistan.”

Over time, some married Japanese citizens, which conferred long-term visa rights, and some opened their own businesses. There are a few Kurdish-owned restaurants in Kawaguchi, and many of the immigrants work at Kurdish-owned demolition and construction firms.

Mahircan Yucel , who moved to Japan a dozen years ago as a teenager fleeing sectarian violence in Turkey, with his son at home in Kawaguchi, Japan, July 24, 2016. — Picture by Ko Sasaki/The New York Times

But most Kurds here, like Yucel, are stuck on temporary permits that need to be renewed every six months. Those without permission to work cobble together off-the-books jobs, which puts them at risk of being detained for months or deported.

"I want the Japanese government to understand that real refugees are in trouble,” said Eyyup Kurt, 29, a Kurdish journalist who applied for asylum 18 months ago. He said he had been arrested five times in Turkey and had been shot at by a member of the Islamic State while investigating a training site.

Some Japanese remain wary. City officials in Kawaguchi say they receive complaints about late-night gatherings and garbage in Kurdish neighbourhoods. Young Kurdish men tend to congregate outside a convenience store near the train station in Warabi, and merchants say they frighten some customers.

"Sometimes, I see that they get into fights, and the police have to come,” said Hiroe Hokiyama, 21, a college junior. "It is a little bit scary.”

Others are more welcoming. Shori Nishizawa, 57, the owner of an appliance store a few blocks from Happy Kebab, a Kurdish-owned restaurant here, said he often watched young Kurdish mothers walking with their children on the street in front of his store.

"Japan is such a peaceful country,” Nishizawa said. "We should not think about countries, but about the world. We are all citizens of the world, right?” — The New York Times