Perhaps one of the dearest experiences on my trip across Europe was dining with a host family to a Syrian teenager in Berlin’s multi-cultural Treptow district. Over a German meal of fish, potatoes and salad, I spend hours speaking to Sascha, the German host dad, and Majd, his guest from Syria. Along the way, I learned the ups and downs on a personal integration story. Majd has bright blue eyes, dark hair and an optimistic, happy energy, which invites a certain camaraderie. Majd was still learning German but he didn’t shy away from telling his story- between German, English and some Arabic words and lots of laughter, communication flowed. Enjoying the setting summer sun on their balcony with a scenic view over the Berlin Spree river, and listening to Majd joyfully talk about life in Berlin, I found it hard to reconcile the hardships Majd fled with the ordinary happiness of this family moment. Majd arrived in Berlin at age 17. He traveled most of the 2500 miles’ journey from Syria alone, as him and his brother got separated. His family remained. Arriving in 2015, Majd traversed the now closed route via Turkey through Hungary to Germany. He spoke of rubber boats crossing the Aegean Sea, and of finding a way to mix in with tourist groups in Budapest to avoid being spotted by police. We steered clear of any topics potentially risking re-traumatization, avoiding dwelling on the violence that prompted Majd’s flight. Though later, in a private moment, his host Sascha told me of how shocked the well-experienced translator was during Majd’s asylum proceedings, as he translated Majd’s story. Majd, Sascha emphasized, is resilient. Finally, in Berlin, after months of travel, Majd’s challenge was to lodge an asylum claim fast. He recounted long lines in front of the local authority for asylum. He remembered how his heart sank as he spoke to others, who waited for three weeks just to get registered. To avoid the lines, he intercepted a woman hurrying into the building to start her working day and told her, he was alone in Berlin . As he recounted how she shuttled him in past the line of waiting refugees, Majd flashed me that charming smile with a twinkle in the eye: I tend to be lucky, he said. Lucky maybe, ingenious for sure, I thought Thus, began Majd’s bureaucratic journey. Even for me, an educated German, the asylum process is rather confusing: under German law, there are three different categories of protective status. There is the Asylum status, in which the applicant can prove that they are persecuted by the state. Asylum is thus for targeted political violence, and requires a high burden of proof from the applicant. Much more common is the refugee protection status, after the Geneva Refugee Convention, reserved for people fleeing personal risk, due to their political engagement, race, ethnicity, gender, religion and (increasingly) sexual orientation. The risk can come from a non-state actor, such as a terrorist or militia group. Both statuses are granted a three year stay in Germany, including the right to work, and may apply for family reunion. If after three years, the German state still warrants their status as valid, the applicant may apply for permanent residence. For the success of the latter, the applicant will have to prove progress in integration in the German society, as measured through language and economic engagement. The third status is subsidiary protection, for individuals, whose lives may be in danger in their home countries, but who fail to provide the burden of proof that they personally are at risk of persecution. Germany will thwart deportation and grant a temporary stay of a year, which can be extended thereafter every two years, up to seven years. If the situation in the home country doesn’t improve within seven years, the applicant may apply for permanent residence. Work permits can be granted to those under protection, but require another application with the German employment agency. Those under subsidiary protection have to wait two years, before they can apply for family reunification. While still a strong protection, it’s temporary status is rather nerve-wracking and the delay of family reunification a hard hit for minors especially. To complicate matters, German bureaucrats have quite a bit of latitude in the decision making: so, for example, both Majd and his brother fled from Syria due to similar experiences in the same period. But upon arrival in Germany, one brother received subsidiary protection, while another brother, whose application was processed in neighboring Brandenburg, received refugee protection. Similar stories, same family background, both unaccompanied minors, different German states and different outcomes. The difference has important consequences for Majd’s family however: child refugees can apply to bring in their parents and siblings under family reunification, but only if they are recognized as refugees and only for as long as they are underage. Unfortunately for Majd, both him and his brother reached legal maturity before Germany could process the family reunification applications. Now, all he can do is skype every weekend with family back home and focus on creating a new life for himself in Berlin. In this process, I gathered quickly that Majd was lucky to have a German family to help him navigate this new land. Majd only moved in with Sascha after he turned 18. Before, as many other unaccompanied child refugees, he was under the care of the German Youth Ministry. In Berlin, due to lack of space, the ministry hires out hostels to house unaccompanied minors, sometimes 6 in a room, with a social worker in the building to provide care. Majd made friends with one of his roommate, who later got transferred to a host family. When Majd was about to turn 18, he was nervous. Germany considers an 18-year-old youth a full adult, responsible for finding their own accommodation and for navigating the school and job programs on their own. From one day to another, these unaccompanied minors must leave the hostels and find an apartment, as if the 18th birthday bestows life skills and maturity instantaneously. Concerned with potential homelessness of the boy, Majd’s friend’s host family asked around the neighborhood, and Sasha and his then wife volunteered to take him in. Officially, they are his landlords, thus allowing Majd to have a registered residence with the German social services, as he starts his adult life. Fast forward to the summer evening, when I dine with them. During the conversation, it becomes quickly apparent to me, how beneficial having a caring host family has been for Majd, and how hard navigating German culture has been. Despite the tremendous challenges Majd has overcome, his youth was still evident: Girls and soccer were more on his mind than school at times, despite Sascha’s admonition that truancy would lead to suspension. But Sascha was using a German pedagogic of letting a youth make his own decision and Majd didn’t believe that schools suspend children, because per him, schools don’t care about attendance in Syria. In this case, Majd learned the hard way to listen to Sascha. Kicked out of school, he was now looking at integration and German classes for adult refugees instead. Cultural clashes were in display in other ways too: turns out that dating German girls is very different from dating back in Syria. What back home would be considered a watchful protective eye over a romantic interest was considered by German girls controlling behavior. Sascha and Majd had long conversations about how to treat women, including consent and respect of privacy. Listening to their story, I do wonder how so many young boys arriving in a completely different culture navigate this particularly tricky social ritual. The most passionate conversations were about one of the driest subject most of us rarely think about: taxes. Yes, take a breath, taxes were a topic of long conversations that went to the heart of cultural differences. Germans, in general, take pride in the German social welfare state: respect for the law and paying taxes for the common good are generally valued by Germans. Majd instead expressed sincere puzzlement. Not only did he describe a culture back home, in which tax avoidance were common occurrence, but he described how so many second and third generation businessmen of either Arab or Turkish heritage were helping incoming refugees to find a job off-the-record. Local restaurants and markets hired refugees either completely in the black market, or officially part-time, unofficially full time. From Majd’s perspective, this was a win-win situation: local business owners were helping their people in a desperate situation, while gaining cheap labor and avoiding taxes. Refugees found a job within a familiar community, as they learned to navigate the German system and learned the language. But it’s illegal, Sascha interjected with restrained desperation. So, began a long discussion, which Sascha and Majd clearly have had many times before: Sascha emphasized the illegality of the matter, the criminal consequences and the irresponsibility of a community, which benefits off the German tax payers. Majd listened with a twinkle in his eye. In sincere deference to his host dad, he promised to never engage in such tax fraud, but couldn't restrain himself from expressing disbelief that the German government would really crack down on small businesses. He was confident that businessmen would outsmart the government. As I sat back, and witnessed a respectful exchange, which included a lot of jokes and laughter, I reflected on the cultural differences at display: the German, law abiding one, priding itself in a shared dedication to the common good and the Syrian one, in which communities find creative ways outside of a state to help each other. What shone threw is the deep care and respect both Majd and Sascha had for each other, and how having a host father helped Majd (who despite his 18 years, still seemed so young, after all) navigate a new country with its taboos and pitfalls. Majd is lucky: only a minority of the 67,000 unaccompanied child refugees in Germany are placed within families. The majority move from hostel to hostel, and upon adulthood, abruptly must find their way on their own in Germany. I do wonder, how they navigate the many cultural cleavages.
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Yesterday, the Hungarian people voted on a referendum on whether to oppose the European Union plan to resettle some refugees to the country. Those who voted – which at 45% is not much short of half of the Hungarian population – overwhelmingly rejected the refugee resettlement: 98% of voters voted against the resettlement plan. In order for the referendum to come into effect, voter turnout had to pass 50%. Even if the referendum took effect, EU law trumps state law. Thus, the legal standing of this vote was questionable, and it is more comparable to a symbolic vote. This explains perhaps why media coverage may have been lower than one would expect. But the referendum is an important symbolic act, which epitomizes the current trends in Hungary. As Prime Minister Victor Orban was quick to point out: more Hungarians voted against the resettlement of any refugees into their country than had voted to join the EU (3.249 million votes were cast against refugees, while in 2003, only 3.056 million votes in favor of joining the EU.) This vote is an important marker of the mood in a country, which is at the front-line of Europe’s protectionist tendencies. Since I cannot write a lengthier analysis of the matter, I wanted to briefly contextualize why the vote matters, and link to some excellent articles for you to read further. I intent to write several detailed posts on my findings in Hungary from my research trip soon. So what is it all about? The referendum, as it translates into English, asked voters: “Do you want the European Union to be able to prescribe the mandatory settlement of non-Hungarian citizens in Hungary even without the consent of Parliament?" The language, wordy and vague as it is, is hardly neutral. This was a referendum on the EU plan to relocate 1,294 migrants to Hungary. Last fall, the EU adopted an Emergency Response Mechanism, which set the quota based on a country’s size, economy and current refugee population (the EU designed a calculus that weight these as such: 40% of the size of the population, 40% of the GDP, 10% of the average number of past asylum applications, 10% of the unemployment rate). Hungary's responsibility was rather small. With a population of 9,875 million, the effect of integrating a 1300 people on Hungary's culture, cohesion and economy would have been minor. The vote matters for several reasons. One is that the vote epitomizes how the government has successfully led a powerful campaign, which build on and deepened xenophobia, nationalism and a strong opposition to immigration among the Hungarian population. The Hungarian President has launched a government sponsored campaign against any refugee resettlement that cost Hungarian tax payers $40 million against migrants. The fact that so many tax payers money is re-routed away from much needed social project into a symbolic campaign speaks volumes on the current political situation in the country. The campaign is ever-present in the country. When I was in Hungary this summer, it was impossible to take a 20-minute walk without a huge billboard advertising stretches of the truth at best, and lies about the refugees at worst. I am adding some pictures, which I took, and one, which a journalist took, but which shows the amount of billboards better than mine do: The two pictured here translate into “The Paris attacks were committed by immigrants” and “Brussels wants to resettle a city-full off illegal immigrants in Hungary.” The Paris attacks were actually committed by French and Belgian nationals, who had an immigrant background. A city usually refers to a setlement of 50,000, not a 1000. But the truth hardly matters in this tax-funded government campaign. For a whole list of the billboards and translations, check out the Daily News Hungary’s translations. When I spoke to Hungarians, many noted that this misleading campaign has permeated Hungarian daily lives. One person mentioned how her children told her now that in Kindergarten, migrant was used as a swear word. Hungary exemplifies the sociological processes, when a government is using massive propaganda that, in my opinion, can be equated to hate speech. Beyond the local significance, the vote matters regionally. On the EU level, the vote affirms Orban’s determination to lead the Visegrad countries – Hungary, Czech Republic and Slovakia – in their opposition to any EU efforts to distribute the refugees, thus blocking reforms to Dublin System. In my previous post, I briefly outline the Dublin regulations, and why they are dysfunctional in the face of the current crisis. So why this opposition? This question was driving my summer research. I have many thoughts on why Orban’s government is securitizing the migrant issue, and utilizing much needed tax payer money to foment xenophobia and fear. I plan to write many of these thoughts soon. But in the meantime, I wanted to share with readers some insightful pieces of analysis that are currently available, which get to the root of some of the dynamics that underlie the vote:
You have to understand the soul of a country, and Germany’s soul has evolved : the country sees itself as a in-migration-country. That clock cannot be turned back. These words from Mekonnen, an expert on migration and diversity in Germany, have stayed with me, as I wandered the streets of Berlin. For me, they indicate a fundamental shift in a country and society, which I knew as a child to be slow to embrace its status as an immigration country. Growing up in the 1990s in Berlin, my parent’s Polish heritage still was fodder for unfriendly childhood teasing. Similarly, Germany in the 1990s experienced waves of right-wing protest in response to a refugee influx. The political response at the time was to restrict the right to asylum: if refugees hailed from "a safe country," or passed through a "safe third country" on the way to Germany, their claims to protection would not be recognized. The logic was that the refugees had access to safe countries en-route to Germany, and thus, their choice to seek protection in Germany was not a need-based one. Asylum claims dropped. Those German laws also laid the foundations for today’s EU Dublin system. The EU Dublin regulation specifies that the first European country, through which a refugee passes, is generally responsible for processing their asylum claim, This law is based on the same logic as the German one: a refugees' passage through safe countries put their need for protection in the end destination in doubt. Under the Dublin regulation, EU countries can send refugees back to the port of first entry. This system causes the current crisis in the border states, such as Greece, and is now considered a woefully insufficient response to the current situation. The Germany I experienced this summer has changed profoundly from the Germany of my childhood: when I talk to younger generations, they puzzled by my self-definition as a first generation German. In their mind, I am hardly a daughter of migrants: I am a German-Pole, and Poles aren’t migrants. They are European neighbors, whose children are well-integrated, fellow Europeans. Germany experienced a profound societal shift vis-à-vis who is considered the ‘in-group’ and the ‘out-group' in the last two decades. In Berlin, this multi-cultural Zeitgeist manifests itself in a myriad of ways: the diversity in the streets; the colorful, migrant-owned businesses and the abundance of citizen engagement with regards to the refugees. Almost every Berlin district has at least one citizens’ initiative, through which the cities' residents try to address the immediate and long-term needs of refugees. This includes organizations such as Fluechtlinge Wilkommen (refugees welcome), in which Germans, who want to rent a space to refugees are matched with potential tenants in need. Many Germans organize a number of small events to facilitate a meeting between locals and newcomers. For example, while I was in Berlin, Cycling Lessons for Ladies taught female refugees how to ride a bike. The event was advertised in Arab and Pashto. Many Germans opened their own doors (and hearts) to refugees: I dined with a young father, who took in a displaced Syrian youth, witnessing first-hand the experiences of Germans, who invited refugees into their families (another post forthcoming.) Even cultural exhibits and public spaces were filled with positive messaging around migration: The German Historical Museum currently has an exhibition called Germany, a Country of Immigration, which traces the trends of in-migration in post-WWII Germany. The Berlin metro sported advertisements focusing on solidarity with refugees. In short, every day, I was reminded of Germany’s Willkommenskultur- which translates into welcoming culture- a term Germans use to coin the current Zeitgeist. Berlin, of course, tends to be more progressive and diverse than many other German cities; nonetheless, the shift appears to be more profound than a local phenomenon. Whether Germans agreed with Merkel’s management of the refugee crisis or not; whether they feared some economic and social backlash or not – most of the Germans, with whom I spoke in Berlin and beyond accepted that their country today is one, which will experience more immigration; that the current refugees need sheltering, and that Germany must find better solutions to manage the challenges attached to integration. Tina Gazovicova, a Slovak human rights expert, who is currently working at the Office of the Representative of the Berlin Senate for Integration and Migration, described this situation as such: Even with the cooling of the Open Door Sentiment, the attitude in Germany— in the media and in informal discussions— still differs from the rest of Europe. In Germany, it focuses on how to best manage the influx of refugees, not on whether Germany can and should accept these migrants and refugees. In much of the rest of Europe, the discussion focuses on stemming the influx In short, the German sentiment remains in stark opposition to the sentiment in the other countries I visited: there, politicians largely focus on costly policies to deter refugee arrivals. What then accounts for such an evolution, in which Germany became a refugee-friendly country? Speaking to Mekonnen, and others, I concluded that mere diversity alone did not bring about this change. Instead, the current policies are the fruit of a decade or more of labor by engaged Germans. Mekonnen described to me how over the last fifteen years, a coalition of civil society lobbied the German government to change the laws so as to make Germany more attractive to migrants friendlier to refugees. This coalition included representatives from progressive groups, churches and from private enterprises. Through engagement, they changed the laws first on the state and then on the federal level. Last year's legislative changes for example encompassed the lifting of the residence obligation for refugees, which required the asylum seeker to stay in assigned areas during the processing of their application; the provision of monetary support to refugees instead of food stamps, and the easing of the employment process for refugees. Previously, an employer needed to prove that no German or EU citizen applied for a job, for which they wanted to hire a refugee- now depending on the type of job and the length of the asylum seeker’s residence in Germany, these requirements were either significantly eased or lifted completely. Cumulatively, these policy developments changed Germany from a transit country to a destination country for refugees. The coalition of three different forces lobbying for more progressive asylum laws is notable. While churches and progressives often engage around human rights issues, the addition of private enterprise amplified their political impact. In Germany, many industry leaders continue to lobby for more access to employment for refugees. The calculus is that Germany has a declining work force as baby boomers retire; and the industry knows that many refugees come with at least a high school degree and occupational skills. Many industry leaders thus see economic potential in the current refugee crisis. This context is important for understanding Merkel’s political leadership on this issue: From abroad, she seems such a courageous figure. From on the ground, she seems more like a smart politician navigating competing pressures. Unfortunately, in the last few weeks, these pressures include a growing concern among German voters with whether Merkel’s government managed the refugee crisis well. In the last two weeks, Germany had a number of local elections, which propelled the right-wing, anti-Europe party Alternative für Deutschland (AFD) into several state parliaments. Just last weekend, Merkel’s party suffered significant losses in the Berlin elections. The Left party, the right-wing AFD and the Liberals all gained in the polls. The Green and the Social Democrats remained relatively stable, though the Social Democrats remain weak. Merkel in response to the election result conceded that she hadn’t prepared Germany sufficient to manage the sudden refugee influx – of note is that this concession only addresses how the open door policy was managed, not whether the open door policy was the correct one. She promised her country that her government will smooth the refugee integration process and will address security concerns. Merkel remains committed to an open Germany. Much more notable in my mind is that Merkel conceded that Germany, under her leadership, relied too long on the aforementioned Dublin system. This reliance, she states, sheltered her and her country to be from the reality that the current migration waves represent a trend that that will continue in the foreseeable future and that require policy solutions. This admission is significant. You wouldn’t know any of this, if you are just reading the foreign media: the elections led the media to already foretell the demise of Merkel, with sensational headlines like the one from Newsweek, “Will The European Union Survive Angela Merkel’s Political Demise?” This concern is overblown: Berlin elections still are fundamentally about local issues, such as concern with better school; gentrification and local governance. Those social issues are not the strength of the Christian Democrats. At most, the elections point to the demise the dominance of two parties in Germany’s plural democracy: with the main two parties (Christian Democrat and Social Democrat) weakening and the smaller parties strengthening, Germany will experience less stable coalitions. Simultaneously, this instability likely will also force more public debate on controversial policies. For now, on a national level, no party is strong enough to dislodge Merkel. With Merkel at the helm, Germany will continue to work towards a well-managed refugee policy. Who are the migrants and how do they arrive in Europe? I wanted to write at least one post that gives outsiders an overview of the current migration trends, which are affecting Europe. Many of us are moved by the pictures of the migrants risking their lives off Italy’s coast, arriving in small dingy boats across the Aegean Sea and crossing the Morocco border into Spain. As Europe is building more and more fences, and battling over a response, I wanted to take a moment to outline, who is arriving, and what arduous routes are these migrants taking. Clarity on this matter is important because it gives context to the European policies and responses, which I hope to explore in this blog. The majority of Europe’s migrants are refugees The vast majority of migrants arriving in Europe are fleeing war torn areas, and can thus be described as forcible displaced people or refugees. Over 80% of the migrants arriving in Europe are fleeing countries, which are plagued by conflict, general violence and insecurity, or repressive regimes, which violate the human rights of its citizens. Syrians, Afghans and Iraqis make up the largest groups. The next biggest group arriving on Europe's shores are migrants fleeing war-affected Somalia, Sudan, South Sudan, Libya, and Nigeria and repressive Eritrea The arrival of these people forced from their home in Europe is part of sad global trends: In fact, to give some perspective, one in every 122 people in the world is currently either a refugee, internally displaced or seeking asylum. I highlight these statistics, because often the term migrant refers to various situation: economic migration, referring to migrants in search for better job prospects; mixed migration, referring to those, who may be fleeing a combination of violence and nonviable livelihoods, and finally, forced displacement, referring to those fleeing violence. All of the above are arriving in Europe, and the vast majority arriving are indeed refugees. In a future post, I will explore how this distinction matters in terms of legal status. Europe is the closest wealthy, stable and accessible region to the aforementioned conflicts. Currently, around 75 million international migrants are thought to live in Europe, and the movement towards the continent is unlikely to abate any time soon: in addition to the protracted conflicts, growing global inequalities and unpredictable weather pattern are undermining livelihoods in many areas. 2015 was a momentous year in this movement of people towards Europe: Frontex, Europe’s border agency, recorded a record 1.8 million unauthorized border crossings and 1 million asylum seekers. This was six-fold increase from the prior year. Sadly, 2015 was also the deadliest year for migrants: according to the International Organization for Migration, 3,700 migrants died crossing the Mediterranean in attempts to reach Europe last year alone. Africa and the Middle East, not Europe host the majority of migrants As I will dive into the European crisis, I want to underline that Africa and the Middle East still host most of the displaced people: in fact, Europe hosts only about 6% of the world’s forcibly displaced people. In contrast, much more resource-constraint Africa and the Middle East host 29% and 39% of people displaced by horrific events. With much of the news focusing on migrants off Europe’s shore, this fact is often forgotten. To exemplify this further, I want to highlight the small country of Lebanon: according to 2015 UNHCR figures, Lebanon hosts the most refugees in the world per capital at 232, which accounts for more than a fifth of its population. Next up are Jordan, Nauru, Chad, Djibouti, South Sudan and only then Turkey, bordering Europe. It is worth noting that most of these countries do not have the resources that would match the current refugee crisis.
The majority of Europe’s migrants arrive through three sea routes To arrive in Europe, nearly 60 percent of migrants take three sea routes, with the rest opting for various land routes through the Balkans. Just so far this year, over two hundred thousand desperate migrants have risked their lives to reach Europe by sea. The three sea routes are the Central Mediterranean route, which runs from North Africa to Italy or Malta; the Eastern Mediterranean route, which goes through Turkey to Eastern Greece, southern Bulgaria, or Cyprus; and to a lesser degree the Western Mediterranean route to Spain. The Migration Policy Institute wrote a detailed blog post, on the trends along each route, and determined that a “complex web of often interconnected factors including border control and immigration policies; changes in the origins of the flows; weather patterns; evolving conditions in origin, transit, and destination countries; and adaptations to any or all of the above by smuggling networks” affects the popularity of each route. The Italy Route – the most dangerous route The central Mediterranean route has the longest stretch of sea, which means it is the most dangerous way for migrants to arrive in Europe: the images of the migrants at risk of, and too often, drowning at sea off the coast of Italy showcase the dangers inherent to this route. The Central route was the most popular in 2013 and 2014- in 2014, more than 80 percent of the asylum seekers and migrants detected in Europe chose this route. Most of the migrants on this route come from sub-Saharan Africa, with a growing number of Syrians and North Africans joining them. Libya is the prime departure country, though Egypt and Tunisia are also departure ports. Around 3,000 migrants died in these seas both in 2013 and 2014. Due to complex interplay of factors, the Eastern Mediterranean route overtook the central one in mid-2015- perhaps a minor relief in the sense that the Eastern route is slightly safer. Unfortunately, likely inspired by the EU- Turkey agreement, as of spring 2016, the use of the dangerous Central route spiked again. Once in Italy, many migrants try to make their way into Europe- passing through the Alpine Brenner pass at the Italy-Austria border. This prompted the Austrian government’s plans to build a fence at the Austria – Italy border. Those plans sparked violent protests in Italy, and Austria and Italy are due to meet for diplomatic talks on the fate of the border. The Greek Route The Eastern route requires migrants to travel through Turkey to eastern Greece, southern Bulgaria, or Cyprus. This way (except for the Bulgaria route) entails a short sea crossing through the Aegean Sea. In 2015, Frontex detected more than 885,000 crossings along this route, propelling it to most traveled route by migrants. In the first half of 2015, more than 85 percent of migrants on this route came from war-torn countries, prime among them Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia, and Iraq. Additionally, an increasing number from sub-Saharan Africa are also arriving via this route. Once in Greece, most of the migrants continue their journeys north, leaving Greece through its border with Macedonia, and then on towards the Balkans and Hungary. It is those images of masses of Syrian refugees crossing the various borders into Europe, which the Brexit campaign utilized in fomenting xenophobia. The Eastern Mediterranean has been an important route for migrants for a significant time. In 2008-2009, Frontex notes, more than 40 000 people used this route to gain access to Europe, accounting for some 40% of all migrants arriving in the European Union. Turkey now sports an important people-smuggling industry in Turkey. The Spanish Route This route is proportionally less popular, but has seen migrants’ arrival for a decade now. Originally a route for economic migrants, recently, refugees from Sub-Saharan Africa’s wars are choosing this route: people fleeing northwards from conflicts in Mali, Sudan, South Sudan, Cameroon, Nigeria, Chad and the Central African Republic. In 2015, Syrians accounted for the biggest share of detections on this route. In order to get to Spain, Africans travel towards Morocco or Algeria via two land routes. One follows the West African coastline, preferred by migrants closer to Senegal and Mauritania; the shorter one crosses the Sahara, often traveled by nationals of countries further afield. Crossing the Sahara is dangerous: just last month, 34 migrants died trying to cross the Niger dessert, 20 of them children. Once the migrants arrive in Europe, they encounter patchwork of laws governing immigration and rescue, which I hope to explore in the next post.
For now, in 2016, the sad trends regarding the dangers of traveling to Europe continue: to date this year, 231,153 refugees arrived in Europe via the sea route, and nearly 3000 are dead or missing. 74% of those arriving in 2016 were from the world’s top ten refugee producing countries. As I keep on writing about the migrants and the European policy responses, I think grappling with the refugee reality is key: the majority of people affected by these policies are fleeing war and violence, risk their lives in the journey, and arrive exhausted and traumatized. The conflicts, which they are fleeing, are protracted, and political resolutions remains uncertain. As I dive into the journey of exploring European responses, at the policy and at the local level, I hope to keep this context central. Last week, the United Kingdom voted to leave the European Union in a vote that divided the country by “age, class and geography.” The decision send shock waves through the rest of Europe, and it remains to be seen how many of the aftershocks will play out. The question of the nation’s response to migration played a fundamental role, as perhaps best visualized by the misleading Brexit poster below. The poster features images of Syrian refugees at the Slovenian border. The Brexit campaign purposefully misconstrued the image to imply that all these refugees will overrun Britain. Racist in nature and likened to Nazi style propaganda, the poster visualizes how central xenophobia and the fear of loss of control of national borders was in the Brexit campaign. The leave campaign encouraged xenophobic fears. The Leave faction distorted the humanitarian tragedy of Syrian refugees arriving at Europe's border to imply that they will overrun Britain, unless it leaves the UK. In reality, Britain has pledged to take in less than quarter of what its EU quota would be, amounting to 20,000 Syrian refugees by 2020. Since the Brexit vote, the UK witnessed a spike in xenophobic attacks. Anonymous right-wing attackers chose Polish and Muslim residents as clear targets. They defaced Polish cultural centers and embassies and posted posters and postcards asking Poles to leave on a number of properties in Cambridge. Of course, the Brexit vote exposed deep divisions within the United Kingdom beyond the attitudes around immigration. Underlying these divisions are many uncomfortable truths. For one, many European citizens perceive the European Union as elitist and non-democratic, suffering “a dramatic deficit of democracy, as well as of loyalty.” This sense of alienation reverberates across Europe: it feeds the right wing parties’ rise in much of Europe, but it also reflects centrist and leftist frustration’s across Europe’s disparate countries. Whether the Brexit will fuel these nationalist sentiments remains to be seen. I am worried about this possibility, as both Germany and France will head into elections campaigns soon. Another poignant truth is that an underclass of rural, working class and older people, who have benefited far less from European integration than their young and urban counterparts, championed Euro-skepticism and Brexit. According to the exit polls, youth and those with higher education and/or median income voted to stay. In the UK socioeconomic status and education often correlate. Despite the association between economic hardship and the preference for a Brexit, in the campaign, immigration was central. In a similar project to mine, Mike Carter walked across much of Britain, and described industrial communities left behind, poverty, healthcare problems and a feeling of economic defeat. In the words of many, immigrants were the scapegoat for larger economic malaise. Thus, immigration is the prism, through which some of the country’s other divisions crystallize. In the words of Guardian Commentator Owen Jones: Above all else, it was about immigration, which has become the prism through which millions of people see everyday problems: the lack of affordable housing; the lack of secure jobs; stagnating living standards; strained public services. Young remainers living in major urban centres tend to feel limited hostility towards immigration; it could hardly be more different for older working-class leavers in many northern cities and smaller towns. According to opinion poll research conducted by Oxford university, roughly three quarters of Britain's population wishes to reduce immigration. While these are particularly high levels, it appears that some popular opposition to immigration dates back to the 1960s. However, in terms of electoral politics, the issue gained salience in the last two decades: only recently have the British people cited it as one of the most important public policy challenges. In this campaign, the leave campaign and sympathetic media constructed a narrative, in which the migrants were at the forefront Britain’s rural economic hardship. The Leave campaign actively stoked the resentment by misrepresenting the root causes of economic hardship. In the words of Asad Rehman, chair of the London-based anti-racist Newham Monitoring Project: It’s been a systematic, month after month of the mainstream rightwing newspapers running story after story of the threat of migrants, to create the concept that the answer is about the borders, not about inequality, neoliberal globalization or the [potential] drivers of the anger. This focus on immigration persisted even though scientific data debunks most claims of migrants hurting the British economy. Statements that do not stand up to scrutiny include, whether it migrants cost the UK government more than nationals (migrant workers rely less on the British welfare services, but pay more taxes); whether migrants cause a rise to housing prices (there is no proven correlation between immigration and London’s housing market, other than the increase of skilled construction labor helps the helps the expansion of housing) and whether immigration deflates the wages of those, who voted for Brexit. Instead, data indicates mass immigration fueled the British economy, and Britain sports some of the highest educated migrants, who bring innovations and industrial growth. It remains to be seen, whether immigration will slow post Brexit. Should Britain enter a recession, immigration will likely decline naturally, as those with options will look for economic opportunities in more vibrant economies. In the short term however, there may very well be a surge in immigration, as EU residents try to access the labor market before the divorce. Simultaneously, migrants and refugees in the notorious Calais border camp expressed new hope: The French Calais mayor called for Britain to take back its border to its mainland and process asylum requests there. Many migrants are hoping that France will be laxer in patrolling the access to the British tunnel, and they rejoice in the fact that if Britain does leave the EU, the government opts out of the possibility to send migrants back to the first receiving country (the current EU regime under the Dublin treaty). In terms of policy, Britain is now left with the unenviable task of designing an alternative immigration system. Currently, immigration levels from within and without the European Union are almost exactly half, so the Brexit would potentially restrict the 49.5% if European immigration. The proposed alternative is an Australian point system to attract skilled migrants, which is similar to the current system for non-EU migrant visas. In another irony, this system was initially designed to attract more migrants. Already, questions about whether the UK can deliver on the Leave’s campaign’s promise to restrain migration to a third of its current levels abound. The Leave Campaign is backpedaling on this promise: politicians are admitting that immigration will be unlikely to fall even with a new system, and stress that immigrants already in the UK will be allowed to remain. The reason for this pivot is a recognition that migration is key to UK’s economy and trading arrangements. Leave campaigner Daniel Hannan admitted this weekend that in order to keep the current level of trading, the UK may need to accept free movement of EU migrants. Many of the EU’s countries have vested economic interest in keeping the open movement of labor. Poland, which accounts for 850,000 immigrants to the UK, already vowed to make the status quo on labor access a key demand for Eu trade negotiations. Personally, I am worried how the Brexit will influence EU policy towards the current the biggest humanitarian crisis of our era, the Syrian refugee crisis, and the increasing flows of desperate migrants arriving on EU’s shores. Many European countries are undergoing the same rise in populism, right-wing tendencies and Euro-skepticism, which fueled the Brexit campaign. If the rise of right wing parties around Europe are any indication, a significant portion of Europe is pushing for a focus on deterrence and interdiction, rather than policies to tackle the humanitarian crisis, or to absorb and integrate the refugees and migrants. These popular demands lead to Europe’s current incongruent policy responses: an EU Turkey deal, which treats migrants as chess pieces, shipping them back to Turkey to process their claims there; and a system, in which border countries like Greece and Italy bear the brunt on the burden of the current crisis. Will European leaders, like Merkel and Hollande, look at the Brexit, and move towards more border control and scattered nationalist responses? Or will they look at the Brexit as a sign that Europe should work towards finding a common solution to a protracted humanitarian crisis as a way to assuage the sense of powerlessness among its citizenry? Over three days last weekend, many Americans took time away from the bustle of their daily lives to enjoy beautiful weather, a picnic, and a contemplation of wars past. For a holiday that remembers those who gave their lives to the death and destruction of war, Memorial Day is, in practice, often peaceful. But over the course of the three days prior to this quiet weekend in the United States, 700 people drowned in the waters of Europe. Many were trying to escape the horrors of current wars; others risked their lives for more nuanced reasons: a desire to escape the authoritarianism, or corruption, or poverty, or even the erratic weather patterns that are undermining livelihoods around the world. And though people risk their lives on these perilous journeys of necessity, current asylum criteria denies them legal access to Europe. Last week’s events bring estimates of migrant deaths in Europe this year to 2000. In just one day, last Thursday, 500 individuals died, even as 4000 were saved. With warming temperatures and a safer route through Turkey blocked, these numbers are likely going to increase. That increase is challenging the current response from Europe, making clear that rescue operations are insufficient, the archaic laws defining refugee status are too narrow, and the challenges that humanitarian providers face in responding to the crisis are too vast. Additionally, the political challenges are great, with swaths of the European population anxious about the potential ramification of an influx of migrants, and political organizations of every stripe pushing for solutions, some durable and some short-term. The crisis requires a human-centered response, but such a response requires us to truly see and empathize with the people behind the numbers. Yet how do we comprehend the people behind such astronomical numbers? How can we work to imagine what desperation drives people to attempt a journey that risks their lives and those of their children? One way to humanize the numbers and bring individuals into relief is through emotionally jarring photography. The German humanitarian organization Sea-Watch made the drastic decision to publish a picture of a drowned baby in the hopes that this human image would serve as a call to action. (Picture included at the bottom, scrolling down is optional.) But there is inherent danger that such an image will focus on a narrative of victimization, dehumanizing these migrants, denying their agency, and reducing their potential for positive contribution in their prospective host countries. The concept mirrors some of the problems of poverty porn, the use of extreme imagery of economic victimhood for political and financial gain. In response to images like these, European relief and development organizations have designed a code of conduct for messaging to respect human dignity. More moving for me and, perhaps more respectful of these migrant people, was the response of an individual rescuer. He, himself a father, and a music therapist, described his own reaction:
"I began to sing to comfort myself and to give some kind of expression to this incomprehensible, heart-rending moment. Just six hours ago this child was alive.
For a moment, these words transported me to the anguish and powerlessness this man felt, and thus to the pain of the human tragedy.
The truth, however, is that even to attempt comprehension of this tragedy is deeply disturbing. Doing so inevitably moves us, bringing to life a mixture of emotions: sadness, fear, powerlessness, and perhaps guilt, to name just a few. It would distress us and so we avoid it. Because who among us wants to feel more powerless, guiltier, more upset in our lives? Automatically, we turn away from the discomfort of any new human suffering; like ostriches, we face only the immediate problems of our daily lives, rarely acknowledging that our global society is facing immense challenges, which inevitably will affect us, too. Sometimes I wonder if we are wired to tackle only our own daily challenges at the expense of long-term challenges, or collective challenges. But how can we work toward solutions if we fail to acknowledge the problem? In order to find the energy to act, we must break from our impulse to protect ourselves and instead nurture a collective understanding, a collective acknowledgment, and a sense of urgency driven by compassion for an inclusive humanity that embraces ‘the other,’ these people risking everything to arrive on safer shores. Perhaps the beginning is to make room for naming the suffering, collectively. In the words of the poet Denise Levertov, naming sorrow is the first step to reconnect to the human soul:
To speak of sorrow
works upon it moves it from its crouched place barring the way to and from the soul's hall
I don’t pretend to have all of the answers. But through this blog, I hope to create a space for contemplation, for questioning, and for fostering empathy for those affected by this current situation.
Caution- jarring picture. Scroll at your own emotional risk The Biking Migrant
Humanity is in crisis —- and there is no exit from that crisis other than the solidarity of humans. The first obstacle on the road to the exit from mutual alienation is the refusal of dialogue: that silence that accompanies self-alienation, aloofness, inattention, disregard and indifference. Instead of the duo of love and hate, the dialectical process of border-drawing needs to be thought therefore in terms of the triad of love, hate and indifference or neglect that the refugee, in particular, continues to face. Zygmunt Bauman, May 2, 2016 Here I am sitting down to write my first blog announcing my intention to gain further insight to how Europe is changing in face of refugees coming into borders, and how that translates to the policies that European governments currently being designed. I am deeply moved by the number of refugees coming to the shores in Europe: their arrival inspires a turbulent mood there. Without a doubt, many Europeans welcome the migrants, and feel empathy. However, there a vocal minority, and a larger group express a range of opposition and hesitation: per consequence, right-wing movements form, calls for restrictions to the migrants’ movement dominate public debate, and governments pass policies that seem to play chess with the human lives of staggering numbers of displaced people. To better understand the mood of the affected countries, the visual changes to border areas, and the journeys of the migrants, I am proposing a bike tour from Berlin to Budapest, traveling on to Greece, to write about what I see. Along the way, I want to meet with locals, with politicians, with organizers and advocates to tell a multi-faceted story. I will be blogging and posting short videos. My writing will be a mix of personal impressions, and policy. I will bike from Berlin to Budapest and on to the Serb border. Along my route, I intent to locals, asylum centers and politicians grappling with the situation. But first…. Why the Biking Migrant? As many people, I carry many identities: I am a professional focused on conflict and human rights; I am a PhD candidate in Law, Justice and Criminology; I am a European, an American, and humanist. I am also a migrant myself, and a passionate bicyclist. I was born in West Berlin to Polish parents. My early childhood was influenced by the political context of the time: The Iron Curtain, which separated us from our Polish family. As a result, I straddled cultures, becoming both German, and a child of immigrants. Growing up as a first generation German in a context where many folks perceived Poles as migrant workers and treated them as the butt of jokes formed my own sensitivities for identity politics as societies change. Later, I moved a lot; living in France, Senegal, Denmark, Belgium, The Netherlands and the U.S. I learned from each culture and country. Today, I am a dual-national in Germany and the United States, and continue to straddle cultural divides, every day. Why Bike? Long-distance biking, so-called touring, is my passion. It’s my favorite way to get to know a country and its people more intimately: people find cyclists more approachable, and are more open to talk and even open their homes to a passing cyclist. As a cyclist, one traverses through small villagesthat tourists avoid or simply don’t come in contact with, yet I find that these villages reflect the state of a country as much as its metropolis does. Finally, it is an affordable way to travel. |
AuthorThe thoughts of a passionate biker, migrant, humanist and human rights expert on the current migration waves in Europe. Archives
July 2017
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