Migrant representativeness in Europe

The existing literature on representative bureaucracy has so far been primarily US-based and to a large degree focused on the notion of race (see also Bishu and Kennedy Reference Bishu and Kennedy2020; Kennedy Reference Kennedy2014). Although the representativeness of the EU’s agencies and top-level bureaucracies has been widely examined (e.g., Cingolani Reference Cingolani2023; Pérez-Durán and Bravo-Laguna Reference Pérez-Durán and Bravo-Laguna2019; Trondal, Murdoch and Geys Reference Trondal, Murdoch and Geys2015), fewer studies have focused on policy implementation and street-level dynamics (e.g., Guul Reference Guul2018; Jankowski, Prokop and Tepe Reference Jankowski, Prokop and Tepe2020).

In contemporary European scholarly accounts, ethnic identity takes the central stage to a greater extent than race (Delanty, Jones and Wodak Reference Delanty, Jones, Wodak, Delanty, Jones and Wodak2008). Racial and ethnic identities are, of course, practically intertwined, as is the discrimination based on the two. Everyday acts of race and ethnicity-based exclusion (e.g., staring or verbal rejection) are observed in the interactions of migrants with locals (e.g., Di Masso, Castrechini and Valera Reference Di Masso, Castrechini and Valera2014) and with state employees (e.g., Flam and Beauzamy Reference Flam, Beauzamy, Delanty, Jones and Wodak2008). European migration scholars have discussed the “racialisation of migrants,” where race plays a significant role in how migrants are seen and treated by both host society members and governments (Silverstein Reference Silverstein2005). This mix of xenophobia and racism has been described by some as “xeno-racism” (Delanty, Jones and Wodak Reference Delanty, Jones, Wodak, Delanty, Jones and Wodak2008; Fekete Reference Fekete2001; Sivanandan Reference Sivanandan2001). With this nuance in mind, the term “migrant representative” seems more appropriate for capturing representatives in the European context of migration management, as opposed to the term “minority representative.”

It is important to acknowledge here the great diversity of migrants in the EU, also considering the right to free movement within the Schengen area. This is associated with certain migration trends, from less to more wealthy countries, and certain social hierarchies across different migrant groups. For example, Germany is a host country for various migrant groups, some from Southern European countries and others from Middle Eastern countries. In practice, let us say, Greeks and Italians in Germany enjoy more legal rights (e.g., no visa requirements and automatic access to work) than Iranians and Iraqis. Moreover, as Europeans, they may also be seen as being more “compatible” with German culture. In that sense, it can be argued that migrants from Southern Europe may enjoy a higher status in Germany than migrants from the Middle East, the region from where most of the migrants who arrived between 2015 and 2017 originated (OECD 2018).

Different migrants may thus have different statuses within the same host society, depending on various factors, including nationality, race, and class. At times, this may also lead to instances of discrimination and racism across migrant groups. Fox (Reference Fox2013), for example, finds that Hungarian and Romanian migrants in the UK play into Britain’s racialized hierarchies to gain an advantageous position over other migrants. Despite being a target of xenophobia themselves, they use racism to distance themselves from Black and Roma migrants and emphasize their “Whiteness” to prove their deservingness to belong to the local society. The stratification among different migrant identities could therefore influence whether and to what extent migrant bureaucrats adopt the migrant representative role, depending on their own status within the existing social hierarchy (see also Groeneveld and Meier Reference Groeneveld and Meier2022).

Lastly, there is another aspect that has been overlooked in the existing literature: the fact that people increasingly refuse to put themselves into single identity categories. Instead, they may identify with more than one category or they may refuse to position themselves within the existing identification system altogether. This is more commonly the case in relation to ethnicity within Europe (e.g., Prümm, Sackmann and Schultz Reference Prümm, Sackmann, Schultz, Rosemarie, Bernhard and Thomas2003), but it is also true for race in the US (Tatum 1997/Reference Tatum2017), as well as gender (Brubaker Reference Brubaker2016). As these multi-ethnic, biracial, non-binary, and generally non-standard identities increase in frequency, they also become more relevant to scholarly research, including the field of representative bureaucracy. In migration management, the ways in which migrant bureaucrats place themselves across or between migrant identity categories are also bound to have implications for their discretionary behavior toward migrant clients.

Based on the theoretical discussion above, a set of expectations grounds the analysis that follows: a) not all migrant bureaucrats are likely to actively represent their migrant clients; b) migrant bureaucrats who see themselves as migrant representatives would be more inclined to actively represent migrant clients; c) the migrant identity is likely to be a salient identity in the context of migration policy implementation and during a time of a migration “crisis”; d) some migrant bureaucrats have a higher migrant status than others; and e) migrant bureaucrats may identify fully, partly, or not at all with their migrant clients.

Profile A: Zena, the “Spokesperson”

Zena was once a refugee child. In the early 1990s, her Russian mother and Iranian father fled with her to Sweden, where she subsequently grew up. In 2013, in her mid-30s, Zena moved to Berlin, attracted by the city’s vibe. She learned German quickly and decided to work as a social worker at a shelter for migrants. This way she could use her Swedish social work degree, while also working toward a cause she cares about: helping refugees.

On the job, Zena was surprised to discover that social services in Germany are largely privatized. She found this problematic:

This quote illustrates the conflict between the expectations of Zena’s boss versus those of her migrant clients, exemplifying the tension between being a system representative and a migrant representative. In this conundrum, Zena takes a clear stance: she is with her clients. She disputes the term migration crisis by emphasizing that “it is humans we are talking about,” and she explains that most asylum applicants have not found themselves in Berlin by choice but have been uprooted and feel homesick. She expresses the migrants’ perspective.

Zena is also critical of the local Berlin authorities, describing their lack of responsiveness as “appalling.” Although social workers may contact a designated governmental office with inquiries about their clients’ needs, rarely does anyone pick up the phone or respond to their emails. She calls this a “void” and a “black hole.” She also describes the exhausting process of asylum determination, the poor food quality at the shelters, and the hostility from locals, commenting that none of these factors contributes to migrants’ integration. Once again, she sides with her migrant clients and not with the “system.”

Turning her words into actions, Zena takes on a migrant-representative role and becomes the “spokesperson” for migrants, using her professional discretion to defend migrants’ rights, even if that means disregarding system rules:

Zena and her like-minded colleagues do their best to assist their migrant clients, at times going as far as to “warn” them, so as to prevent their deportations.

Over time, Zena’s friction against “the system” escalates. She discusses an instance of a government order which only allowed migrants with high prospects of being recognized (e.g., Syrians) to cook their own meals in the shelter kitchen, whereas for the rest there would be (poor quality) catering. Despite this regulation later being withdrawn, Zena’s boss continued to ban migrant residents from using their kitchens. Residents complained. Without hesitation, Zena took sides:

Yet another dispute with her boss followed this incident and Zena was reprimanded for helping organize a protest. This example demonstrates Zena’s high identification with her migrant clients and low identification with the local migration management “system” in Berlin. It also shows another instance of passive representation turning into active representation.

As we see from Zena’s profile, the “spokesperson” is a migrant bureaucrat who views themselves as a migrant representative. Zena recognizes the conflicting demands of working to serve migrant clients while simultaneously being paid by a system which does not prioritize migrants’ rights. Zena stands by the migrants, acting as their representative and spokesperson. Compared to her clients, Zena has a higher migrant status because she has migrated by choice and, as an EU citizen, she is in an advantageous position in terms of freedom of movement and access to work. Taking advantage of this status, she goes out of her way to support migrant clients, thereby actively representing their needs and interests.

Profile B: Genti, the “Localised” migrant bureaucrat

Genti moved to Greece from Albania in 1991, as a young adult. While relieved to escape a country in chaos, he found that the receiving society was not exactly welcoming. Although the developing economy allowed for the absorption of low-paid labor, xenophobia was rampant. Genti had spent five years struggling with overt discrimination when he came across the “network for the support of immigrants and refugees” in central Athens. He describes this as an eye-opening and heart-warming experience: “Until that point, I did not believe that there could be even one Greek who might see [Albanians] as human beings. I had just been through so, so much racism.” Genti became and remained a network member.

In the summer of 2015, when migrant flows to Greece reached a record point, the network initiated a solidarity movement for refugees and immigrants, an effort joined by newly mobilized parts of mainstream society. Identifying with the migrant experience, Genti found himself at the front lines:

Like newcomers, Genti had migrated out of need, not choice, which motivated him to try to ease the hardships newcomers were facing.

Nonetheless, by taking part in the solidarity movement, Genti came to see himself as a local “solidarian.” He became involved in running the largest “housing squat” for migrants in central Athens. Once an abandoned hotel, the building now hosted approximately 400 migrants. On a regular basis, Genti performed a variety of tasks: maintenance work, security shifts at the gate, service work in the reception area, and attendance at assembly meetings.

Two years into this demanding routine, Genti describes his involvement with great enthusiasm and pride. He recounts the positive attention the initiative attracted from international media outlets and the numerous encounters with high-profile visitors, including Judith Butler and Manu Chao. The work of solidarians was also praised by the Greek migration minister (Giannarou Reference Giannarou2016), despite squatting being illegal. As a “solidarian,” Genti was part of something bigger. With the movement gaining momentum and exposure, Genti’s photo appeared in magazines and online videos in various countries. “I felt like George Clooney,” he says in a humorous tone and with an expression of self-satisfaction.

By contrast, when Genti discusses his interactions with migrants, he does not seem equally pleased. “They have some things that, for us, are not understandable,” he tells me, pointing his index finger at me and then back to him, in repetition. His account continues with a long list of issues that he finds problematic about migrants: racism between ethnic groups, low education, excessive levels of religiosity, sexist behaviors, gender-based violence, irresponsible parenting, lack of appreciation for solidarians’s efforts, and a curious sense of entitlement. His words below encapsulate the latter.

Using an “us versus them” distinction, Genti criticizes new migrants and sides with solidarians.

In his interactions with new migrants, Genti urges them to “correct” their behavior and align it to the requirements of the European value system, as he understands it:

In this instance, too, Genti conveys a self-view that is much closer to that of a system representative than to a migrant representative. Being an Albanian and a manual laborer, Genti has carried a lower-status migrant identity and has been considered an outsider in Greek society. By participating actively in the solidarity movement for refugees and immigrants, he is claiming a place together with the locals, cultivating his own sense of belonging. One way to be seen as a local is to stand with the locals and operate as an enforcer of local norms, values, and practices during his interactions with the new migrants.

Genti identifies as a migrant but not with the migrants. By suggesting that the migrants should change and become more “like us,” he positions himself as a representative of the system rather than as a representative of the migrants, casting himself as a “localised” migrant bureaucrat. In this case, passive representation does not lead to active representation.

Profile C: Joan, the “Peacemaker”

Joan, 23, was born in the UK to Greek Cypriot parents and raised in a privileged social environment in North London. Her mother was once a refugee, having fled Cyprus when Turkish forces invaded the island in 1974. Growing up, Joan often had the chance to visit Greece and Cyprus for holidays and family visits, which helped her become fluent in Greek. She holds a bachelor’s and a master’s degree from reputable UK universities, both on human rights and works for a local NGO in Athens, assisting unaccompanied migrant minors.

Her involvement with migrants began in the summer of 2015, with the humanitarian crisis in the Aegean. Holidaying on a Greek island elsewhere, Joan could not look the other way. She changed her travel plans and went to Lesvos, where she ended up spending the rest of the summer volunteering in highly chaotic and violent-prone conditions. She remembers that stressful period: “Having to pull children who have come to Greece as refugees out of tear gas on a day-to-day basis…It just takes a toll on you.”

Joan places high emphasis on the needs and rights of migrants. Simultaneously, she feels comfortable around local authorities and is able to converse with them with ease. When needed, she takes on the role of an intermediary between the two sides:

In this instance, Joan acts as a middleperson between law enforcement and migrant rights representatives.

At the end of that summer, Joan moved to Athens, where she could spend more time assisting migrant families, primarily from Syria. An abandoned school building near her family house had just been occupied by local activists and turned into squatter housing for nearly 300 migrants. Joan found this a convenient opportunity to help “make a difference.” For months, her daily tasks included registering migrant children at school, counselling teenagers, assisting with the building’s restoration needs, and holding night shifts to help keep away fascists and prevent police eviction efforts. Moreover, she regularly accompanied residents to medical appointments:

Joan here describes herself as a local Greek who is using her language skills to ease challenging healthcare encounters migrants can face. She can thus be seen as a migrant bureaucrat who adheres to the migrant representative role, prioritizing the interests of her clients.

Nonetheless, in other instances, Joan also describes her role as complementary to that of governmental and intergovernmental organizations, which indicates she also sees herself as a system representative. In the quote below, she argues that migrant squatter housing essentially functions to fill state gaps.

In her view, street-level bureaucrats such as herself are essentially assisting the Greek government to meet its legal obligations to asylum seekers, something the state seems unable to achieve on its own. Cognisant of this, Joan operates as a de facto arm of the state.

Joan’s family history and education have sensitized her to the migrant experience and made her aware of migrants’ needs. At the same time, her multi-ethnic identity, her familiarity with the Greek language and culture, and perhaps her looks allow her to pass as a local while in Greece. Coming from a relatively privileged British upbringing, Joan finds meaning in assisting both migrants and the state. She finds ways to make use of her time and skills to help both sides, wanting to “make a difference” in a time of crisis.

Joan is a high-status migrant who sides with both the local migration management system and her migrant clients, often operating as an intermediary between the two. She thus identifies with both the system representative and the migrant representative roles, managing to either combine the two or switch with ease from one to the other. Joan’s profile is that of the “peacemaker” migrant bureaucrat. This position indicates higher levels of active representation compared to the localized profile, but perhaps not as high as the spokesperson profile.

Profile D: Leila, the “Ambivalent” migrant bureaucrat

Leila, 24, is Syrian and works as a Sozialbetreuer or “social carer,” at a shelter for migrants in Eastern Berlin. She is also studying for her master’s degree in English Literature. Leila moved from Syria to Germany together with her family in 2013, a few years before most of her co-nationals. “I came here legally,” she informs me, pointedly, although this was not something I was planning to ask. Leila had already had German lessons at home for two years prior to her journey, so language was not a barrier to her transition. Her education, clothing, and general remarks point to a person from a higher socio-economic background.

Along with assisting the shelter’s residents with their everyday needs, including bureaucratic, medical, and educational appointments, and paperwork, Leila also translates for them. While combining these duties, she often finds it difficult to assert her role as a policy implementer and a system representative in the eyes of her migrant clients.

Phrases like “this doesn’t work like this” and “this is not allowed” are meant to convey the existing rules to the migrant clients, be they organizational regulations or state law. Her effort to fulfil the requirements of the system representative role is met with resistance from her clients, who do not seem to acknowledge her as such.

Moreover, Leila often finds it difficult to connect with her clients, which also inhibits her from fully seeing herself as a migrant representative.

It becomes apparent here that Leila does not identify strongly with her migrant clients. Since they come from “different environments” or because she disapproves of their manners, their relationship is somewhat uneasy.

Incumbent in this tension is a struggle to belong to local society. While Leila is working to increase her “Germanness,” her clients expect her to follow the stereotypical behaviors of an Arab woman. Inevitably, this constitutes an additional challenge in her daily work.

Leila’s “Germanisation” process seems to be hijacked by the primary image her clients have of her, that of a fellow-Arab woman, as well as the behavioral expectations that come with it.

In her effort to establish her Germanness and her role as a system representative, Leila encounters one more struggle: her colleagues fail to understand and acknowledge her perspective.

Although, when discussing her interactions with her migrant clients, she referred to herself as “Germanised,” the difficulties in her interactions with her local colleagues suggest that she is perhaps not yet fully “Germanised.”

As Leila’s case illustrates, there are migrant bureaucrats who, in their effort to belong to the host society and to help newcomers do the same, face constant challenges on both fronts. Leila reports feeling like “a buffer between the two [sides]” and cannot identify fully with either the migrant representative role or the system representative role. She therefore embodies the “ambivalent” migrant bureaucrat profile. This indicates a relatively low degree of active representation.