Cuts now, jobs later - Europe is abandoning a generation

At last, politicians are talking about youth unemployment, but their efforts don't go far enough.

Can Europe afford to ignore the needs of its younger generation? Youth disillusionment and unemployment are notable features of this economic era. In some EU youth unemployment is over thirty per cent. What are national politicians and supranational bodies doing about this? Recently we have heard a few weak promises about future policies. Yet austerity measures continue to reduce state spending and therefore employment and growth.

On 14 June, labour and finance ministers from Germany, Spain, France, and Italy met in Rome for a meeting titled "Jobs for Youth: Building Opportunities, Opening Paths". The Italian prime minister, Enrico Letta, praised the conference for gathering the ministers in charge of state finances and budgets alongside their colleagues responsible for employment. Economic growth and job opportunities should be created through inter-governmental (and international) cooperation.

This shouldn't be any kind of political novelty, yet Letta suggested that "this is a distinctive day", and "a pride for us that Rome is the European capital city against youth unemployment". (Indeed, Rome is unfortunately the capital city of many actual young job seekers.)

The policy behind this "Jobs for Youth" plan is to promote small and medium businesses, in part through the European Investment Bank. Though it may have some effect in the long run, little was said on how to help people now. In fact, Italy's finance minister Fabrizio Saccomanni made clear there would be no turning away from austerity when he said: "the consolidation of states' finances is a prerequisite for policies against unemployment". The EU approach is that austerity and growth can be part of the same policy.

How this would contribute to the well-being of a fearful (and feared) European youth is not clear. The voices of young Europeans remain unheard. Unsurprisingly, some young people will vote for extremist and anti-establishment forces, and even reject the ideal of a European Union. One should wonder if "people" really are at the centre of the European elites' outlook.

The German prime minister, Angela Merkel, recently told the BBC that "mobility" is key, however unfair it might seem. Young Europeans should move where the jobs are. But how many European countries have flourishing job markets and high demand for labour? And which sectors of the economy? What should be done to help the "jobless" areas that will be deprived of a young and skilled workforce? Merkel's advice also misses the fact that migration for employment already takes place.

Increased migration and support for small businesses won't solve the problem alone. The young people of Europe need more than that to realise their dream of a better society, and to feel part of the EU project. For that, a range of public spending is needed, but instead many countries are reducing their funding of social security and education. A poor, young and angry labour force is a problem for any economic system, and it's hardly a route to prosperity for the European continent.

Andrea Mammone is a historian of modern and contemporary Europe at Royal Holloway, University of London

On your Fahrrad: The German Chancellor Angela Merkel. (Getty.)

Andrea Mammone is a historian of modern and contemporary Europe at Royal Holloway, University of London.

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What it’s like to be a Syrian refugee in Paris

“We fled from terror and it found us again here. It feels like it is always behind us, stalking us.”

Walid al Omari arrived in Paris a little less than a month ago. Having fled the slaughter of his homeland and undertaken the long and dangerous journey, like tens of thousands of other Syrian refugees, to western Europe, he was finally safe.

Ten days later, a wave of brutal violence tore through the French capital as gunmen and suicide bombers put an end to the lives of 130 people who had been out enjoying a drink, dinner, a concert or a football match.

“It felt like terrorism was everywhere,” recalls the 57-year-old Walid, a former small business owner and journalist from the suburbs of Damascus.

“We fled from terror and it found us again here. It feels like it is always behind us, stalking us.”

Syrian refugees, not just in Paris but across Europe and North America, have since found themselves caught up in a storm of suspicion. The backlash started after it emerged that at least two of the attackers arrived in Europe among refugees travelling to Greece, while a Syrian passport was found next to one of the bodies.

It has not yet been confirmed if the two men were really Syrian – all suspects whose identities have so far been made public were either French or Belgian – while the passport is widely believed to be a fake. But, already, several US states have said they will not accept any more refugees from Syria. In Europe, Poland has called for the EU’s quota scheme for resettling refugees to be scrapped, while lawmakers in France, Germany and elsewhere have called for caps on refugee and migrant numbers.

“I fear the worse,” says Sabreen al Rassace, who works for Revivre, a charity that helps Syrian refugees resettle in France. She says she has been swamped by calls by concerned refugees in the days following the attacks.

“They ask me if the papers they have been given since they arrived in France will be taken away, if they’ll be sent back to Syria,” she says.

Anas Fouiz, who arrived in Paris in September, has experienced the backlash against refugees first hand.

“One waiter at a bar asked me where I was from and when I said Syria he said that I must be a terrorist, that all Arab people are terrorists,” says the 27-year-old from Damascus, who had been a fashion student before leaving for Europe.

The irony is that the terrorist organisation that claimed responsibility for the Paris attacks, the Islamic State, is, along with Bashar al Assad’s army and other militant groups, responsible for the long list of atrocities that prompted many like Walid and Anas to flee their homes.

“As a man in Syria you have the choice of joining the Syrian army, the Islamic state or another militant group, or you run away,” says Anas.

He remembers seeing news of the attacks unfold on television screens in bars and cafés in the Bastille area of Paris – close to where much of the carnage took place – as he drank with a friend. Desensitised by having seen so much violence and death in his home city, he didn’t feel any shock or fear.

“I just felt bad, because I know this situation,” he says. “You just ask yourself ‘why? Why do these people have to die?’.”

Perhaps a more pressing cause for concern is how easily extremists in Europe can travel to Syria and back again through the porous borders on the EU’s fringes – as several of the Paris attacks suspects are thought to have done.

Both Anas and Walid speak of the lax security they faced when entering Europe.

“Turkey lets people across the border for $20,” says Walid.

“In Greece, they just ask you to write your nationality, they don’t check passports,” adds Anas. “It’s the same in Hungary and Macedonia.”

Nevertheless, and despite his experience with the waiter, Anas says he is happy with the welcome he has received by the vast majority of the French people.

In fact, at a time when fear and violence risk deepening religious and social rifts, Anas’s story is a heartening tale of divisions being bridged.

Upon first arriving in Paris he slept on the streets, before a passer-by, a woman of Moroccan origin, offered him a room in her flat. He then spent time at a Christian organization that provides shelter for refugees, before moving in with a French-Jewish family he was put in touch with through another charity.

He says the biggest problem is that he misses his parents, who are still in Damascus.

“I speak to my mum twice a day on the phone,” he says. “She asks me if I’m okay, if I’m keeping safe. She’s worried about me.”