Europe and race: Gypsies build a defence against extremism as Germans wring their hands
From: The Guardian, Monday July 31, 2000
By Gary Younge
The interpreter at the Congress of the International Romani Union in Prague had given up. Translating so many different Roma dialects into English all day had left him exhausted and he had left the congress.
So when an eastern European Gypsy rose to back the proposed new constitution in his native dialect, Charlie Smith, chairman of the British Gypsy Council, went to the toilet. Josie Lee, the council president, sat and watched the debate even though she could no longer understand it. Suddenly, to her surprise, a large group of Czech Gypsies rose and started clapping and cheering. By the time Charlie returned from the toilet the constitution had been passed.
A nation was born. And Charlie and Josie, who had hoped to suggest some amendments, are now part of it. "The eastern Europeans have no concept of how democracy works," says Charlie. "It's a new idea to them so if they want something they just push it through. It's really frustrating."
While the process may have been cloudy, the aspiration is clear. At its fifth world congress last week the main body representing Europe's 12m Gypsies declared itself a "non-territorial" nation. A "country" which boasts a flag and an anthem but neither borders nor an army. An entity with a floating parliament meeting every three months and a network of embassies but which is defined and delineated not by land but ethnicity. A nation without a state.
Many here believe it is an idea which reflects not only the interests of Gyspies but the demands and direction of 21st-century Europe. "The nation state is becoming less important and borders are becoming less meaningful," says Paolo Pietrosamti, a delegate from Italy. "If you are German you can still live in Amsterdam and vote for the mayor of Amsterdam and the German chancellor. You do not have to live in Germany in order to be German. You are a German and a European citizen who lives in Amsterdam. The same would be true for a Roma living in London or Paris."
Sean Nazerali, one of the conference organisers, adds that the Roma nation is everywhere: "It has a collective identity at the European level and its people are connected throughout the entire continent."
It is an intriguing notion which makes a bold attempt to turn the fluidity in national identities throughout Europe to the advantage of a disadvantaged group. But it is not without its problems. In order for such a nation to gain and maintain international credibility it must have democratic legitimacy. To have that it must have elected representatives who are able to legislate and arbitrate. For any of this to be meaningful, their decisions must be enforced. Among the many recommendations made last week was one for a court which would put racists on trial and pressure on governments which discriminate against Gypsies, financed by a poll tax among the Gypsy community. But who would administer these perfectly reasonable demands if not police, judges, tax collectors and civil servants? And what do they form if not the basis of a state?
Given the history of nations, statelets and regions which have ethnicity as their focal point, it is arguable whether such a move is desirable. Not that there is any great moral case for nationhood based on land. But whether it is Liberia, South Africa, Israel or Northern Ireland, countries where citizenship has been underpinned by a religious or racial identity have proved either politically unstable, ethically untenable or logistically unworkable - and sometimes all three.
For inclusion on grounds of ethnicity demands exclusion on grounds of ethnicity. In order to decide who is a Gypsy there must be a decision about who is not. Since the Gypsies left India about 1,000 years ago they have spread far and wide across the globe, bringing a variety of influences on their culture with them. Some at the conference are very dark-skinned while others are functionally white. Some claimed that making use of the internet would be crucial to any progress; others felt that basic literacy, or lack of it, was more important. They share a common language, but the dialects have become sufficiently different to demand the use of translators. In eastern Europe Gypsies have been so vilified that they would not dream of calling themselves Gypsies and use Roma instead. In Britain the moniker "Gypsy" has been reclaimed as a statement of defiance in the same way that "black" and "queer" have been for other minorities. And, as Smith's disgruntlement with eastern Europeans suggests, they hail from very
political traditions too.
This is not a criticism but a recognition of the basic characteristics of any diaspora. While their identity may be fractured, there is far more that unites them than divides them.
Many conference delegates would emerge from heated arguments in the corridors to say how wonderful it was to be among "their own". But to codify those elements that unite them for the purposes of nationhood is far more problematic than recognising it informally. Would you qualify as a member of the Roma nation if one of your grandparents was a Gypsy or if you were a non-Gypsy adopted and raised by Gypsy parents? When it comes to drawing up electoral rolls, one can argue about where the line is drawn, but not whether one is drawn at all.
But while the framework may be dubious, the aims that inform it remain vital. Gypsies must gain meaningful recognition and representation on an international level. They are the largest and fastest-growing ethnic minority in Europe. They equal the combined populations of Switzerland, Norway and Luxembourg in number and comprise approximately the same proportion of Romanians and Slovakians as African-Americans do of Americans. Their very condition is international, yet they have no seat at any international table at a time when discrimination against them is widespread in scale, brutal in intensity and global in nature.
In the Czech Republic, 62% of Gypsy children found themselves in schools for the mentally disabled; in Kosovo tens of thousands of Gypsies have been forced to flee their homes; in Slovakia they were banned from even entering two villages. When they flee this kind of persecution and head for Britain they are not welcomed as survivors of human-rights abuses but vilified by the tabloid press and the home secretary, who last year criticised "so-called travellers" for "burgling, breaking into vehicles [and] defecating in doorways". Canada has accepted the asylum claims of well over 70% of the Gypsies who apply; Britain has a policy of accepting none.
It is in this concrete context of oppression, rather than abstract notions of nationhood, that the International Romani Union must operate. The key to other nations taking it seriously will not be whether it has the trappings of a nation but whether it can unite disparate Gypsy populations, represent them democratically, defend them effectively and lobby for them collectively. Ultimately it will be judged not by the structures it has built but by the action it takes.