2015

23 Jan

Ianuarie 2015

Băi p…! Cine te crezi tu, mă ?!

Publicasem două afurisenii de articole pe blogul meu. Unul despre felul în care “proiectasii” aruncă banii publici ( fonduri europene) pe fereastră, urmat de încă unul în care eram foarte sarcastic cu  Euro-Narniacii ( birocrații care se ocupă de problemele romilor) de la Brussels.

Explozia de furie venea din partea unui demnitar, căruia tocmai îi spusem cât de stupidă era ideea dânsului despre incluziune socială.

Decembrie 2015

Bună dimineața, Excelentă !

Mă întorc speriat, crezând că e vreun barosan în spatele meu pe lângă care am trecut fără să îl văd.  Nu e nimeni. Domnul din față mea se ocupă de problemele de securitate ale guvernului și vorbește cu mine.

Sunt pe holul guvernului . Domnul nu este sarcastic și nici nu vrea să îmi verifice buzunarele.  Sunt consilier de stat. Mă bufneste râsul, spre stupoarea domnului.

A fost un an siderant.

L-am început prin ghetourile din Georgia. Într-o noapte fabuloasă am chinuit cu entuziasm versurile pe care mi le aminteam foarte aproximativ ale Katiusei, împreună cu un sobor de pilangii și cei mai mari dușmani ai cântatului pe care îi cunosc. Eu în română, ei în georgiană. I-am învățat să spună măscări despre Putin, care au fost și ele răcnite pentru vreo oră în mijlocul nopții. Fiind un domn, am învățat și eu înjurături în georgiană.

A urmat apoi Palestina. Mi s-a cam rupt sufletul. Am văzut lucruri aberante: oameni care se rugau la același mormânt ( al lui Abraham) și care în rugăciunile lor își doreau moartea celor care făceau același lucru la o distanță de vreo 5 metri, separați fiind de un geam blindat. Ziduri , garduri cu sârmă ghimpată și electrificate delimtand ghetouri uriașe. Multă furie și oameni speriați.  Undeva în munți am stat pentru câteva ore într-un cort de beduini și am băut ceai.  Nu știu de ce , dar am simțit acolo o fericire similară fericirii din copilărie stând în preajma bunicilor.

A urmat apoi Cambodia. Drumul până acolo a fost o experiență dură. Am petrecut 10 ore făcând tot posibilul să stau cât mai departe de experimentul genetic eșuat de pe scaunul alăturat. Deși prezenta trăsături umanoide,  cel mai probabil era rezultatul unei înfrățiri nesănătoase a  fiicei unui sconcs și a unei capre, descoperită de un cioban singuratic. Fie asta, fie omul încerca să trăiască veșnic urmând un tratament special de a speria moartea care necesită îmbăierea zilnică într-un amestec de varză murată și brânză împuțită. În ciuda pregătirii psihologice din avion, tot am avut un șoc în Cambodia.

Am vizitat pușcăriile îngrozitoare ale unei țări cu un trecut înfricoșător și cu traume incredibile. A urmat  templul, din care au fost furate rămășițele lui Buda. Peisaje și mâncare fabuloase și multă, multă sărăcie. Drumuri și trafic îngrozitoare. Corupție cât cuprinde și o administrație publică disfuncțională. Aterizând înapoi la București mi-am dat seamă că probabil Oprescu ar fi fost o binefacere pentru Cambodia.

În Thailanda am stat ceva vreme cu –probabil- cel mai năpăstuit neam de pe planetă. Rohingas fac viața celor mai discriminați romi din România să pară un paradis. Au urmat taberele de refugiați din valea Bekaa din Liban și de la granițele Turciei. În total 18 țări bântuite într-un an.

Am primit anul trecut mult mai mult decât cred că merit. Am avut oameni tare, tare buni în preajmă. Pe lângă tot felul de onoruri am primit și unul care atestă oficial că am inimă de român.

Dețin chiar o cărămidă de sticlă pe care scrie Inimi de români. Am primit-o de la TVR1 . Are lipită o inimă de sticlă cu un punct roșu, probabil pentru a evita orice neînțelegere că premiul este despre inimi. Ca să nu existe niciun fel de  dubii am primit și o diplomă care lămurește că premiul este într-adevăr cel scris și ilustrat pe cărămidă.

În ritmul asta în câțiva ani primesc și o dovadă oficială- poate onorifică- de apartenență la neamu’ lu’ Decebal.

Ceremonia de la TVR a fost o altă poveste, o minune de dezorganizare. Nenea care m-a prezentat avea niște probleme mari, fie cu cititul, fie cu profesionalismul. Nu de alta, dar nu prea a nimerit nici cine eram și nici ce fac. A decis el că îs „ierou tigan” , ierou țigan am fost. Nu a contat că cea mai mare parte a vieții mele profesionale nu este legată de programare și că, deși am avut norocul să am două contracte cu IBM-u,l în perspectivă acestea nu sunt reprezentative. Că, deși am un masterat în diplomație, nu sunt diplomat, ci lucram pentru o organizație internațională.

Ce am înțeles din toată ceremonia de la TVR a fost că România are nevoie de eroi. Și că dă bine să avem și eroi romi. Ajută la imaginea despre propria toleranță, chiar dacă avem în cap ditamai stereotipurile rasiste.

Beaten

10 Jan

She is 47 years old. Sick and dying. There were twelve children – seven are still dependent on her, one of those addicted to sniffing glue. An abusive husband, addicted to alcohol and drugs, who works in one of the many car-washes that one can find in Bucharest. One of the many car washing places where one can find drugs and people addicted to drugs.

She is scared of dying.Scared that her children will go to the Center for Institutionalized Children.  The place is indeed a shit-hole. Yes, on paper, it has all the needed facilities and staff. Yes, the children are fed and clothed there. But too many of the children who live there are emotionally amputated.

Bullying and neglect are the least of what they have to face in that Institution. Violence, sexual abuse, and over-medication are rife. Both she and I know children that were completely destroyed by the system. In fact, I do not know any child that is fine as an adult who grew up in that institution.

The ‘Day Shelter’ next door is much, much better. Her children have all spent time there. But in order for them to continue staying there, she needs to take them home regularly.

And home means an eight-square-meter room built of plywood, on top of the pavement in a street corner. In the summer the “house” extends onto the street. But in the winter it is an urban version of hell.

Dario's house

She steals electricity from the nearby post. She doesn’t have running water. No toilet. The heater is a homemade fire hazard. Still, her children are better off with her than in the Institution.

D. is one of her children. He is smart and gentle, a bit shy. Over the last month, his hearing has been getting worse and worse due to repeated infections. After several interventions, I managed to arrange to have his much needed surgery done. It was hard despite the fact I have all the means and connections to get it done. It would have been impossible for her to make this happen. Most probably his hearing would have been permanently damaged.

D. got the prize for second place in his class last year. He attends school every day and has made huge progress. But his brother and cousin that are both now addicted to glue, and stealing to support their addictions, were also very promising. They will likely end up selling themselves to pedophiles to earn money, spending significant time in jail, and dying much earlier than they should.

One of her older daughters has three children of her own. She lives in another eight-square-meter room.  Also stealing electricity and heating the room with a dangerous homemade heater. She has access to a toilet – shared with all the neighbors. Cockroaches are everywhere, even during the middle of the day. Somehow inside as it is at her mother’s place is incredibly clean.

20160109_141020

Since 1990, I keep seeing the same awful cycle that destroys children. It is now the forth generation. I know ,personally, hundreds of people living in similar conditions.

I have tried to help. I did manage to help some tens of children to be better. A few are now strong adults.

I know the problems of the system. Not all of them, but I know better than most people what is wrong. I know why and how corruption works within the child protection system. I understand how poverty works and how poor parenting, education, human resources, and systems produce generation after generation of children that are scarred for life.

The complexities and intricacies of the laws, rules, mechanisms, and interests of the child protection system are at times overwhelming. Put into the mix the egos, corruption, and incompetence of some of the people in the ministries, local administrations, and other institutions on the one side, and the dedication, kindness, but frustrations of some others and it can seem hopeless.

I am, ironically, the state councilor on social inclusion and human rights. My boss, the prime minister, is an amazingly kind, smart, and down-to-earth man. My colleagues not only really, really care to do good, but are sharp, smart, and workaholics.

And despite all of this, I felt beaten today. I felt I will be unable to do what I should do. And I hate it. I hate losing.

I know this is just a bad day. Tomorrow I will try to find some solutions, and probably I will manage to change a few things for the better. I know that I will laugh at myself failing to save the world and complaining.

D. is smiling at me as I write this. He can hear me well, and that makes him happy. That and the fact he is going to be with me for a few days until he recovers fully from surgery.

And normally that should be enough. But today it was not.

The stench of hypocrisy

28 Aug

I have been a migrant. I have lived, legally and illegally, in nine different countries. In 1993 I was trying to escape Romania. I was studying engineering at that time in Craiova. Being a Roma in Romania in 1993 was not easy: we faced pogroms and strident anti-Gypsyism. But that was just one of the reasons. I was also trying to escape from the huge rats I saw every evening, the garbage and dirt of the city, the political instability, my violent and alcoholic father, and the uncertainty of the future.

I had a visa for Germany. Germany being notorious for its “love” of Roma, the UK seemed a better option. Because my father worked for the Romanian railways, I could get a free return ticket each year to any place in Europe. I decided to try to cross to the UK from Oostende, in Belgium. I had heard that some Romanians managed to do that.

I reached Oostende late in the evening. Compared to Romania, Belgium looked like a fairy-tale. Even the railway station was amazing. Clean and beautiful buildings, people dressed up elegantly, expensive cars and luxurious restaurants. I waited in the railway station for night to come. A barbed wire fence separated the station from the ferry dock. I planned to jump over during the night and to climb into one of the many trucks that were lined up for the ferry to the UK.

I watched the railway station cleaners with envy. They were dressed in clean name-brand sport clothes. They seemed happy and their job looked easy. They fed me – I must have looked completely destitute. That was the first time I ate falafel. Two Moroccans, one Tunisian, and one Libyan. When they left, they bought me a can of Fanta and tried to give me some money, but I refused.

I did not manage to cross that night. Cold, dogs and nasty truck drivers were too big obstacles for me. I returned to Romania. Over the next year, the friendship of a group of Palestinian students in Romania helped me to survive. I tutored them. One of them, Suheil, was always there for me. He often bought food for me and he shared whatever he received from home with me. He eventually married a really nice Romanian girl. Many people treated her as a whore for loving a Palestinian – one of the kindest people I knew. I used to joke with her that she would have been treated better if she was Roma.

Eventually I succeeded in leaving Romania and spent many years abroad. But I moved back to Romania and have been back for many years now. During the last decade, I often worked with refugees and migrants. I spent time in refugee camps. Not just visited them, but actually spent time there. There is a specific smell to a refugee camp. When it’s hot, the smell is a mix of rotten garbage and sweat;  when it’s cold and humid, it smells of smoke and dirty damp clothes. Smells I also grew up with.

I’ve seen hundreds of thousands of people living in refugee camps, slums, shacks. Syrians in Lebanon; Serbs and Roma from Kosovo in Macedonia and Montenegro; Africans, Bangladeshis, Bosnians and Roma in Italy; Iraqis, Syrians and Kurds in Turkey; Rohingyas in Thailand. Slums in India, Cambodia, Georgia, Azerbaijan, and ghettoes in Eastern and Western Europe.

Since this year started, 137,000 people have already crossed the Mediterranean Sea. It is very probably that more than 4,000 have died trying to cross. A good part of those are children. Desperate people trying to run away from conflicts and abject poverty.

In June this year I took part in a high-level discussion at the Romanian Presidency that touched on the “refugee crisis”. The President’s Councilor was adamant that Romania should refuse any quota for refugees as they would be a “danger for Romanian society”.

Political elites across Europe voice similar positions. It stinks thousands of times worse than the most awful and crowded camps. It stinks of indifference, cowardice and hypocrisy.

The majority of the refugees are children: children who had the bad luck to be born outside of the walls of Fortress Europe. At the moment, these children get more help from those radical groups we (rightly) despise than from us, the kind, generous, civilized Europeans. We simply build bigger and better walls, while lamenting about the “criminals” that bring these children to our borders.

We seem to forget that it was us, the Europeans, who created the migrant-sending states on the principle of Divide and Rule, throwing together people with a history of hatred for each other in the same nations. We supported insane despots, played the role of masters in a disgusting Game of Thrones, sold weapons, including chemical ones, and did whatever we could to maintain the flow of cheap oil and whatever other goods we needed to be comfortable. We had no regard for the consequences of these decisions in the countries we created.

Conferences and speeches at luxurious receptions will not solve much. The European approach seems to consist of talking about courage and preaching about what others should do. This is not courage – it is  sociopathy.

There are tens of millions of Europeans who could easily host and help a family of refugees in their homes. I am ready to host a family. I am not rich, but I will not become poor by doing this.

More than 3.4 million Europeans have savings of over 1,000,000 EUR. There are also tens of thousands, if not more, businesses that could adopt a family. Tens of thousands of NGOs, charities and churches.  Thousands of intergovernmental organisation bureaucrats who make a good living out of nice words and reports could finally gain some legitimacy by enacting the generous agendas of their institutions.

We can help. We can help enough to solve most of the problems. We could show that we are indeed a moral Europe, that we care and that our words about human rights and the value of democratic societies are not empty ones. At the same time, we would repair our broken relations with the Arab world and get back into the driving seat for making this world a better one.

It will require courage. It will not be simple. Politicians will need to make it easier for us to “adopt” these families. They will need to become serious about solving the root causes of the conflicts in these countries. But it would be worth it. Surely, if nothing else, it would ease the stench of hypocrisy that follows the speeches of most European political elites.

On the blessings of being a gypsy

20 Aug

For my first seven years I had just one identity: child. The move to a bigger city in Romania made it  clear to me that I was not a “normal” Romanian child but a ”gypsy”[i] child that Romanians “put up with”. I worked hard for the next years, and I was promoted from “stinky gypsy”, to “gypsy”, to “ok gypsy”, to “good gypsy”, to Roma, and finally I made it as “a Romanian”, and “someone Romania is proud of”. A Romanian TV station blessed me with that final title. Not to worry; it is still honorific. Any “original” Romanian that I piss off might request a re-evaluation and demote me. At the end of 2013 I was sainted as an EU citizen by receiving an award from the European Parliament.

It is great to be a gypsy. To be a member of such an advantaged ethnic minority: part human, part animal, part magic: truly a magnificent thing. We are the living Sphinxes, Pans and Centaurs of Europe. The majorities were incredibly kind to us for centuries, as they did their best to domesticate us. The process of taming us took a long time. As part of the process, they provided unlimited access to work for more than 500 years. This made us so happy that we decided to do it voluntarily, and sometimes even wearing chains. In the 20th century we traveled freely – all expenses covered by some generous European governments – to many exotic destinations such as Auschwitz, Buchenwald and Transnistria. We misbehaved and complained unfairly about the quality of transportation, food and overall treatment, which deeply embarrassed our benefactors. No wonder some Europeans still get all tense:  we seem to have learned nothing from those experiences and continue to complain about all kinds of “silly things such as exclusion and racism”. Regardless, a good part of these Europeans still wish us all the best… in heaven. Hitler’s, Horthy’s and Antonescu’s heavens, that is.

As gypsies, we are truly lucky as we all have the same characteristics. Our race lacks any individual traits:   we do our best to satisfy the need for simplicity and clarity on the part of our fans and lords. We aim to  avoid confusion and the waste of vital energy to build new synapses in the brains of our admirers. The way we did this was simply to incorporate in our DNA the main attributes proposed by our tamers and educators: laziness, stupidity, criminality, kitschy tastes, lying, incompetence, and aggressiveness are all there. This might sound unscientific to some, but remember, we are a people of fortune-tellers, magicians, and children who never get sick; what people believe about us has more power than science or facts.

What might at first appear to be hate, disgust, and exclusion are in fact simple misunderstandings or malicious interpretations of what is actually a kind expression of love meant to help our education. Many Europeans use the slogan “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” to explain their relationship with us. This obsession with making us stronger is found not just in the speeches of many politicians, but also in the purifying actions (fire or “holy” beatings are the most usual) led by groups of volunteer “teachers”. Throughout history, hangings, axes, pitch-forks, gas-chambers, forced deportations, starvation, and more recently bullets increased the efficiency of the educational methods.

As gypsies we also have no individual responsibilities. We are all responsible for the worst of any of us. Any idiotic thing said by a self-appointed leader, king, emperor, prince, or (if lucky) any gypsy becomes representative and binding for all of us.

On the other hand, the corruption, violence, and sociopathy of some of the most representative European leaders (all democratically elected) are ruled by surprisingly different laws as they are generally considered the responsibility of that particular individual. This is another proof of the benevolence of our “host nations”. It is well known that we “diluted” the honest, smart, and blue-greenish blood of many European nations that offered us unlimited hospitability.

From time to time one of us gypsies falls from our magic realm and ends up being generously accepted by our co-nationals as an honorary citizen. I have had this good fortune myself, as I explained earlier.

This high status comes with some minor requests such as accepting full responsibility for the systemic racism against us. Each of us awarded with honorary citizenship needs to do it. We are to be extremely polite, diplomatic, and defensive towards the majority population whenever there are racist actions that affect our communities, while at the same time being tough and unforgiving with the mistakes of our “uneducated, dirty, cunning and violent race”. We need also to understand and promote the need for a strong glass ceiling, as high-level jobs involve a level of responsibility and knowledge unfit for us. Others deciding what is needed and good for us is not institutional racism, but evidence of friendly (sometimes even maternal/paternal)love and care.

If you (the gypsy) are blessed to have a love relationship with one of those from the superior European races it is highly likely you will have strong incentives to keep quiet about your ethnicity. In the best case scenario, s/he will have no problems with your ethnicity and his/her friends will regard him/her as a paragon of tolerance and kindness, proof of the magnanimity of the nation towards “foreigners”. It is true that many will think your lover is a “whore” or an “idiot”, and some will think you or your relatives cast dark spells that made her/him fall in love with you. Regardless, you should not worry: burnings are not as popular as they used to be a few centuries ago. The occasional “what would you expect from a stinky gypsy” meant to explain your shortcomings is just a kind and gentle reminder that your education and domestication is ongoing.

Certainly, I, as a gypsy, am a hypocrite writing all the above. My role should be to “denounce the criminals among my people”, to “educate the stinky children that disgust” the “normal European”, to do something to “solve the problems of the gypsy communities”, and most important, to stop complaining. At the end of the day “I am tolerated here by the kind Romanians/Europeans!”

For the first time I felt being treated as a Roma in the US. I told people at my work, reluctantly, that I am a gypsy. Their reaction was unexpected, for me as they did not seem to care. Moreover some thought I was cool: poetic, romantic, a talented musician, exotic and in a relentless pursuit of freedom and magic. It fit perfectly with my job – I was writing boring mathematical algorithms at that time. 

In India I felt even weirder, when in a very crowded train people wanted to make a place for me to sit down as I looked comparatively white and rich. I refused the offer.

In Romania, for years now I have been received as a “genuine” Romanian. I am successful and I receive lots of recognition for what I do, sometimes more than I deserve. I chose to make it clear that I am a Romanian Roma and generally that is received as it should be – with respect. From time to time I am called and treated as a gypsy but it is rather exceptional nowadays. Unfortunately there are many teenagers and young Roma that do not have my luck. The text here is for them and reflects, sadly, real discussions.

*The article above is based on a Romanian version that is available in the newspaper Dilema Veche published today August 20, 2015

[i] Gypsy is a pejorative – Roma is the correct word

One good and necessary step forward

2 Aug

On the night of August 2, 1944 2898 Romani men, women, and children were gassed at Auschwitz as Soviet troops closed in. Preceding it in January 1940 over 200 Romani children were murdered in Buchenwald, Germany, used as research subjects for the efficiency of the crystals of Zyclon B Gas later employed in the gas chambers.

This is the beginning of an article I wrote exactly a decade ago. It is available here.

Some things remain valid. Some changed.  Most to the better.

In 2005 the European Parliament resolution on Holocaust did not even mentioned Roma.

On August 2, 2015 the European Commission came up with a very strong declaration in support of recognition of a European Roma Holocaust Memorial Day and in support of a Resolution of the European Parliament requesting such recognition. The entire declaration can be found here http://europa.eu/rapid/press-release_STATEMENT-15-5444_en.htm.

A decade ago this would have been unthinkable.

The Romanian prime-minister released also a message about the Roma Holocaust. It has been taken by most of the media outlets in Romania.

This might well be perceived by skeptics as nothing more than lip-service. It will be a mistake.  An institutional routine acknowledging the mass killings of Roma is a very serious step forward in ensuring the attention needed to Roma Genocide in the Romanian and European history.

It will be also a mistake to consider that this is enough. We do not manage yet even to stop the negative trend that see more and more Roma children falling into the exclusion trap. Nowadays most experts think that overall the Roma situation was significantly better during the communism. Educational achievements, illiteracy, housing , poverty and employment rates were much better 26 years ago.

We continue to use poorly European funds ; anti-Gypsyism as well as institutional racism remain problematic  all over Europe.

There are some good signals that things are improving. The declaration of the two Commissioners is one of them. The fact that this is possible means that there is some good support within the European Commission for Roma issues – something that was not the case a decade ago.

There are many bureaucrats that are or were in the Commission that made this possible. Their experience (good and bad) is important and needs to be better used regardless of egos ( personal and institutional).  Same is to be said about the Roma activists and experts in Roma issues. A decade of advocating better Roma policies lead many to burn-outs. Frustrations and personal feuds are nothing but an expected outcome of what has been often a serious struggle. Those and some other frictions hindered essential exchange of knowledge and much needed cooperation.

Pushing the right policies for Roma social inclusion is not an easy feat. Lip service, polite indifference or diplomatic niceties are not the way to achieve it.

Many of those involved in Roma issues are truly interested to find solutions. Bluntly discussing what the problems are/were with the purpose to find the solutions and not winning some pyric victories for the sake of our egos is the way ahead.

The Commission seemed to have managed just that. This time.

  1. Most of the individual’s flaws here are mine. They have been an unpleasant but necessary and hopefully useful discovery.

PPS.  The success of the European Parliament for the recognition of Roma Holocaust is due to the activity of a small group of Roma activists. The much regretted Nicolae Gheorghe and the previous and nowadays Roma MEPs are (arguably) the main responsible . Thanks !

On lazy approaches and Roma projects

28 Jul

The European project is undoubtedly the best thing that happened to Roma communities in the region in the last decades.  The anti-discrimination framework of the European Union as well as the strong focus on Human Rights and social inclusion of the different partnership between the EU and other countries have raised the awareness about the plight of Roma.  EU provides the largest amount of money available for Roma targeted projects and the European Commission ( EC) has lead a difficult but successful  negotiation process that saw the adoption of National Strategies for the Social Inclusion of Roma in many countries.

Despite all these the situation of Roma is far from improving.

The European Funding targeting the social inclusion of Roma has been insufficient to bring about enough changes to stop the existing trend that see more and more Roma, especially Roma children falling to abject poverty.

The majority of available funds were poorly used. EU Member States as well as countries that have signed different partnership agreements with the EU have been reluctant and largely unprepared for using these funds. Poorly prepared human resources, wishful thinking and corruption are some of the most important reasons for the existing failures. Intellectual dishonesty as well as lazy attitudes also, have played an important role in the existing situation.

Roma in Romania, Slovakia, Hungary, Bulgaria but also those in Turkey, Georgia , Albania and Bosnia-Herzegovina continue to face “systemic societal discrimination”  according to international reports. More and more Roma children end up being trafficked by their families or criminal gangs to the capital cities in the Western Europe . School drop outs rates in rural area are sometimes well over 90% for children 12 years old or older. Poor quality of education corroborated with strong negative prejudice translates in the highest percentage of youth unemployment of all ethnic groups in the Council of Europe region. Among the Syrian refugees the situation of Roma groups is one of the worst, Roma children being the most vulnerable to violence and sexual abuse from all the refugee children in Turkey.

Change is not impossible but involves a few fundamental reforms when it comes to the focus of the international and national interventions.

Short term projects cannot work.  The majority of Roma communities have been exposed for decades and sometimes centuries to strong discrimination. The communities are suspicious to outsiders interventions and have still strong memories of forced deportations, extreme violence including genocide and forced instutionalisation of their children. A good majority of these communities are  resistant to change and  have either unrealistic expectations of  EU funding due to irresponsible promises of populist politicians or a very low tolerance for other interventions due to previous failed projects.

Medium to long term projects that focus on children and building trust and participation of the community need to be prior to investments focused on more complex interventions meant to address the huge socio-economic gap between the Roma communities and majorities.

Interventions focused on producing reports, organizing conferences and writing national strategies and action plans need to represent no more than 2-3% of the money invested at the grassroots especially in the poorest compact urban and rural Roma communities. A much stronger focus on interventions ensuring the wellbeing of Roma children and the real employability of Roma youth is also needed.

The involvement of independent, honest and successful Roma experts should be another priority within both the bureaucracies in charge of designing the projects but also among the implementing agencies.

At the moment I am writing this the Romanian TV stations and radios run mind-numbing advertising about EU funded projects meant to tackle social exclusion of Roma. Building Roma Resource Centers is something that has been done in the past and proved to be expensive, unsustainable and more important ineffective. Paying NGOs to run trainings for preparing Roma for employment has been statistically a disastrous approach. EU money are used to expensively advertise things that are proven to be failures.

EU funds need to have an impact in the life of the most vulnerable Roma communities . At this moment , at least in Romania a far too much amount of the available money supports TV stations, corrupt mayors,  weak state institutions and NGOs to continue doing what we already know will not work.

This needs to change. There is enough experience and expertise available within bureaucracies and civil society to be able to address the existing problems. The only things missing seem to be the mechanisms and sometimes the will to do it.

Jargon, frameworks and conformity

9 Jul

*As for the last 2 months I have a weekly editorial in the Romanian “Dilema Veche”  my postings here are going to be a lot less frequent.

The problem with the European Union frameworks is not as much as with their content but with what is outside these frameworks.  Anything outside tends to or is considered to be wrong or irrelevant.

As the expertise inside the EC is inherently limited especially when it comes to the most disadvantaged groups and the poorest of the poor some of the most important things remain always outside the frameworks and therefore the weak and sometimes disastrous results.

The EU is the main financial supporter of the civil society and the NGOs will adapt to the existing “frameworks” rather than disturb the status quo. Conformity remains a very significant problems among the EU and other international and national bureaucracies as well as among the elites of the European civil society.

On top of this we continue to develop and promote jargon that increases the separation between the EU and the common European. The EU language becomes more and more aloof and irrelevant for most of us.

The EU project is very much needed not just for us, the Europeans but for most of the world. It helped Europe to become a much better and safer place and it could help many other places in our neighborhood to make the same progress.

Producing jargon, rigid frameworks and incentives for blind conformity is not the way to do it.

Here some examples from the most recent speeches of EU Commissioners :

Commission remains strongly committed to presenting to this Parliament towards the end of the year a circular economy package which has a holistic approach on the issue.

We must pursue the path of reforms and reinforce the foundations of the EMU, as a place of prosperity based on balanced economic growth, price stability, a sound financial sector and competitive social market economy.

The European Commission is committed to creating a Europe with a Triple A Social Rating. We will only be worthy of a ‘Triple A’ when we achieve fair and balanced growth: Growth that leads to decent and quality job creation and protection for all throughout their lifecycles. But social protection must be modernised and adapted to current challenges.

Without prejudice to the prerogatives of the Council in the implementation of the Stability and Growth Pact (SGP), one-off contributions by Member States, either by a Member State or by national promotional banks classified in the general government sector or acting on behalf of a Member State, into the EFSI or thematic or multi-country investment platforms established for the implementation of the Investment Plan, should in principle qualify as one-off measures, within the meaning of Article 5 of Council Regulation (EC) No 1466/97 and Article 3 of Council Regulation (EC) No 1467/97.

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