The Return of the Compatriots

One group of migrants that is often overlooked is regularly referred to by different names, both by external observers and by the migrants themselves. ‘Returnees’, ‘repatriates’, co-ethnic migrants – immigrants with two separate ethnic backgrounds, often referred to in common English usage as ‘ancestral migrants’.

What is meant are people who, after years, decades or even centuries, return to the land their forefathers originally left for economic reasons in order to find a better life somewhere else, or were forced to flee due to political or religious persecution. In many cases a huge amount of time passes between the original emigration and the later return, which throws up a number of interesting questions relating to the importance of preserving cultural heritage and assimilation.

This was the case with the co-ethnic migrants from the former Soviet Union, who returned in thousands to their ‘historic homelands’ following the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the Soviet empire. Among the migrants were Pontic Greeks, so-called ‘Russian-Germans’, ethnic Finns, Ukrainians, Poles and Russians, as well as people of Jewish origin (although here we would have to define ‘co-ethnic’ in a slightly different way). What it is that makes it worth focusing on these particular migrants when there have been examples of similar movements of migrants in other parts of the world, such as the Japanese returning from Brazil and Peru (nikkei) to Japan?

Migrants from the former Soviet Union’s sphere of influence are particularly interesting because their respective migrations and integration back into their ‘former homelands’ happened at the same time and, to an extent, under very similar circumstances. The migration of co-ethnic or ancestral migrants is a form of migration – and this is perhaps one of its most interesting aspects – which, on the face of it at least, runs counter to the idea and reality of a progressive globalisation.

The last Soviet population census in 1989 suggested that the Greeks and Germans were among 192 different ethnic groups living there at the time. How they ended up living in Russia is easy to explain, as both groups moved there as settlers – many of them encouraged to move by the solicitations of Catherine the Great. They migrated from regions within today's Germany and Asia Minor during the 18th and 19th centuries and settled mostly in the South of Russia, in the Caucasus, at the Black Sea, in today's Ukraine and along the Volga.

The migration of co-ethnic or ancestral migrants is a form of migration […] which, on the face of it at least, runs counter to the idea and reality of a progressive globalisation.

Having a common religion was also a significant factor for many Pontic and Caucasian Greeks and many thousands fled to Russia as a result of the Russo-Turkish war. Both Germans and Greeks were later victims of Stalin's programmes of forced resettlement to Central Asia and Siberia – a traumatic episode in their histories, which still affects many today and which initiated an ongoing narrative of ‘eternal rootlessness’. Although the situation of both ethnic groups in the Soviet Union significantly improved in the 1960s, ‘70s and ‘80s in socio-economic terms, thousands still took the opportunity to permanently move back to Germany and Greece after 1989.

This was made easier by the congruent immigration policies in both countries, which at that time were two of only ten percent of countries in the world that still defined citizenship based on the principle of jus sanguinis. As a result of each country's strong ethno-cultural sense of national identity, firmly rooted in a rhetoric in favour of settling war damages, both Greece and Germany offered specific diaspora groups, including those from the former Soviet Union, not only citizenship, but a certain amount of assistance in reintegrating.

This argument would appear to carry less weight in Greece than it does in Germany. My studies would suggest that, at first glance at least, the challenges faced by these migrant groups, whether in terms of looking for work and accommodation or in terms of cultural rapprochement, are in fact very similar. An inability to speak the host country's language proficiently when they arrive can be seen as a major factor in this respect. However, this explanation does not paint the whole picture. It does not take sufficient account of the very specific issues which surface when attempts are made to integrate co-ethnic migrants and which have a major influence on the successful cultural integration of those migrants.

I would like to suggest that the return of co-ethnic migrants is more influenced by expectations and the pressure that these expectations can bring with them, than any other form of migration. Expectations would appear to play much less of a role in other migration scenarios and can therefore be seen as much less relevant. The political rhetoric surrounding the return of a country's presumed long-lost ‘brethren’ no doubt plays its part in building a certain amount of pressure of expectation with respect to their common cultural heritage.

The return of co-ethnic migrants is more influenced by expectations and the pressure that these expectations can bring with them, than any other form of migration.

State assistance with integration, or the ‘prize’ of citizenship at least, something which is denied to other immigrants, only serves to ramp up this pressure. In Greece the state even officially sanctioned a competition to prove similarity, by offering different privileges to different diaspora groups. The Soviet Greeks came out best in this respect, as they were more or less guaranteed Greek citizenship.

However, the local populations in Greece and Germany do not tend to assess the culture of immigrants on the basis of some officially recognised genealogy. Whether consciously or unconsciously, they tend to expect immigrants who claim to be Greek or German to actually demonstrate ‘Greek’ or ‘German’ behaviours, mentalities and cultural practices. This includes, of course, an ability to communicate in German or Greek. This would appear to be the yardstick by which the potential of the new arrivals to successfully integrate is measured.

In many cases, the migrants themselves, many of whom travelled to their respective homelands well aware that they would become future citizens – something that would have had a major influence on their decision to leave their homes – had expectations of a very different sort. Many of those asked said that they expected an emotional return to their homeland and to receive an emotional welcome as well. Others simply wanted to rid themselves or their minority status.

For yet others, the key factor behind their decision to move was the possibility of building a better life in Western Europe for themselves and those who travelled with them. In some cases, the exact opposite – a total lack of expectations – proved to be the main problem. Many of those asked suggested that they were essentially unprepared for the journey at an intellectual level and when they arrived ended up facing a harsh reality that they had simply not anticipated. One thing that all the migrants had in common was the idea that Germany and Greece would not have changed in the decades, or even centuries, of their ‘absence’ – an idea that later seemed ridiculous to many of them.

Many of those asked said that they expected an emotional return to their homeland and to receive an emotional welcome as well.

The majority of those immigrants questioned expected that the local population would recognise in them the national identity that they themselves believed they ‘intrinsically’ held. Partly as result of actual or perceived rejection, and partly because it is what they genuinely believed, many of the participants in the study suggested that they considered themselves to be the ‘true’ Germans or Greeks or, as one lady put it, "more German than the Germans". Some Pontic Greeks, and not just those who came from the former Soviet Union, believe to this day that the Pontic Greek (a specific form of Greek) that they speak has more similarities with ancient Greek than the Modern Greek spoken by the local population.

Irrespective of the particular country or group, there would appear to be a tendency towards clinging on to preconceived images and ideas. And it is this that produces a second variable that really sets co-ethnic integration scenarios apart: the phenomenon that successful integration is much more intrinsically bound up with static images and presupposed fixed identities, and even stereotypical, essentialist presumptions about them, than is the case with other migrants. And yet this stands in direct contrast to the actual reality of changeable, variable or even multiple identities. I believe that this is the reason why the cultural integration of these immigrants in Greece and Germany was not without its problems, especially for the first generation, and why these problems still persist today.

This is particularly true of returnees who were born in the Soviet Union in the 1960s and 1970s. Older repatriates who lived through the Second World War and the persecutions often display multiple patterns of identity and are more critical of the Soviet Union as a lived reality and therefore as a point of reference. Overall, my study brought to light a wide range of examples of Greek and German repatriates who still keep in contact and feel bound together by their common experiences.

This perception of a different cultural heritage among those formally recognised as co-ethnic migrants has changed over the years with changes to migrations streams and add a new twist to the issue of their integration.

In Greece, the growing number of immigrants from Asia (and particularly Pakistan and Bangladesh), from sub-Saharan Africa and, since the crisis, from the Middle East, has lead to an increase in anxiety amongst the local population, similar to the fear of ‘being overrun by foreigners’ expressed by people in Germany with regard to immigrants or established residents with Muslim backgrounds. The Greek and German migrants who have often been characterised as ‘Russian’ in the past now no longer seem so culturally foreign. Because they have been there for so long, they now seem to be much more a part of normal everyday life. Paradoxically, another transnational hurdle in these migrants' integration process can be found in their education.

The close-knit associations and ties that the Russian-Germans and Greeks from the former Soviet Union built up over the coming years, were built on the foundations of a perceived shared background and culture and on a high degree of trust in each other.

Some labour market experts have argued that a higher level of education can often have a positive impact on the successful integration of migrants. One German civil servant recently suggested in an interview that it was generally assumed that highly qualified migrants had significantly fewer or even no problems integrating.

However, this view is countered by the totally opposite experience of many returnees from the former Soviet Union. One of the first comprehensive studies of Greek returnees showed that almost one third (27 percent) (the second biggest group in terms of absolute numbers) had higher educational qualifications. 27 percent of these migrants had qualifications in engineering, mechanical engineering and shipbuilding.

Added to that were a large number of mechanics, electricians, plumbers and car mechanics. The one official survey carried out in the year 2000 listed one third of the former professions of Greek repatriates as "other professions", a suggestion perhaps that a large number of these professions did not have a Greek equivalent. This may give us a potential insight into some of the difficulties that migrants may have faced when looking for jobs. For one thing, the Soviet planned economy, with its focus on specific industrial sectors and its tendency to fill gaps in certain professions with highly specialised university graduates, created qualifications and career paths that did not really exist in the German and Greek labour markets. Added to this is the fact that the labour markets in both countries are essentially dual labour markets that are strongly oriented towards qualifications obtained in the home country itself. A lack of proficiency in the local language could also be a problem, especially in the early days.

For many, the latter was the only realistic option. Many highly qualified returnees in particular are still suffering as a result of this disruption to their chosen career path and the painful and often ignominious loss of status and identity. Added to this is a sense of class consciousness that might at first glance appear to be paradoxical but was in fact not only typical of the Soviet Union but also actively cultivated there (with highly educated people being seen as part of the intelligentsia). This kind of long-term involuntary underemployment or even unemployment often led to depression or chronic illness. One migrant in Thessaloniki, an ophthalmologist by profession, described her experiences with a sense of obvious resignation:

"My brother is now firmly established as a professor and head of department (...) in Moscow. He's made it. Meanwhile, I've spent all this time in Greece trying to prove that I'm actually a doctor and repeating the studies that I'd already done. The end result is that his name has already been entered into the annals of Russian history, while I'm having to start from scratch."

It has been shown that this is a problem that affects men and women in equal measure. Naturally, this phenomenon, which for the sake of simplicity I have call the ‘reverse effect of qualifications’, is not unique to the return of co-ethnic migrants from the Soviet Union, though it has been common among this particular group. It would appear to be a phenomenon that often occurs when there is a migration between countries that have very different socio-economic and/or political-ideological profiles.

It serves to show the extent to which successful integration can be dependent on the perception of culture, rather than the actual culture, traditions or mentality. There is a need to reassess the importance of education and qualifications to the integration process. These problems clearly demonstrate the considerable influence that a lack of opportunity to exploit existing qualifications has on the integration process and the sense of self-worth of the individual concerned. It may well be that these difficulties experienced by highly qualified economic migrants can only be avoided by providing firm job offers in the destination country.

These days there is a significant amount of movement of Greeks from the former Soviet Union between Greece and their former areas of residence and the commercial centres of the Caucasus and the south of Russia. The reasons for this movement are predominantly economic in nature. This kind of transnational search for employment, even of a temporary nature, has become much more prevalent since the beginning of the economic and social crisis in Greece.

A few years ago, President Putin of Russia introduced a ‘Compatriots programme’ aimed at tempting former emigrants, including Greeks and Germans, to return to Russia. This would suggest that the formal ‘return’ to the country from which their forefathers had emigrated a long time ago is not necessarily the final step in a personal migration story that in some families spans many generations. It also suggests that the cycle of their diaspora existence has not yet come to an end.