The couple took refuge with friends in a village near Chernivtsi, in western Ukraine, and waited: a week, two weeks, three weeks. By the time her visa finally arrived, after almost a month of uncertainty, the lawyer had changed her mind. Instead of boarding a flight to Britain, Fomina and Lev traveled by bus and train to Berlin, where he had found a family through a Facebook group that had agreed to host them for six months. The journey took 32 hours. Less than 12 hours after arriving in the German capital last Monday night, she obtained a temporary residence permit, obtained a free sim card for her phone, opened a bank account and found a free place in a church-run kindergarten. . Lev, who took his name from the Russian writer Tolstoy. By the end of the week, Fomina had also received German health insurance and was given the first installment of a monthly allowance of € 616 (16 516) for her and her son, as well as a one-time payment of € 294 for new clothes, all in cash. “The word of mouth in the Ukrainian Telegram [social media] “It was that it would be much easier to integrate into German than British society,” Fomina told the Observer. “Our British sponsors seemed very friendly and willing to help, but there was very little information available about the benefits system or how easy it would be to find a job. “After four days in Berlin, I am 100% sure I made the right decision.” Seven years ago, Germany’s “refugee crisis” caught the world’s attention when Angela Merkel’s government opened its borders to an influx of asylum seekers, most of whom fled the war in Syria, provoking a backlash. right saw the far right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) enters parliament for the first time. Ukrainian refugee Alina Shchukina: “Germany makes it easier for Ukrainians to receive benefits. “But I could not wait for the war to end.” Photo: Marzena Skubatz / The Observer In the first two months of Russia’s aggression, 390,000 Ukrainians arrived in Germany, more than double the number of Syrians enrolled in the German quota system in September and October 2015. However, this time the word “crisis” is nowhere to be heard. . Vladimir Putin’s aggressive war in Ukraine has led the German government to hesitate over arms shipments and an embargo on Russian energy imports, much to the disappointment of its European allies. Chancellor Olaf Solz sometimes seemed more interested in respecting the dove traditions of his center-left party and taking into account the demands of German industry than in dealing with a rapidly changing geopolitical situation. But in its dealings with an unprecedented influx of newcomers from Ukraine, Europe’s largest economy was characteristically unbureaucratic, without drama and extroverted. The number of arrivals in Germany is lower than in countries located right on the border with Ukraine – especially in Poland, where more people have found refuge from the war than in all other European countries combined. However, in Liliia Fomina’s Telegram groups, there are many Ukrainians in Poland who are concerned that they could be trapped in low-paying jobs, and the expectation is that many of her compatriots will use the 90-day EU visa waiver to move on. further west. According to official figures from national governments, Germany is their most likely destination: more Ukrainians (almost 400,000) are already here than in other major European countries such as France (51,000), Italy (around 100,000) and Spain (135,000). Britain, outside the EU and with a slow-moving visa system, has only accepted around 27,000, although 86,000 visas have been issued. Unlike the Syrians who arrived in 2015, Ukrainians in Germany do not need to apply for asylum, but can obtain a quick residence permit for up to three years, thanks to previously unused paragraph 24 of the German law on residence. If they do not choose Berlin, which relocates those who have not found accommodation for at least six months before arriving in other parts of the country, they are free to choose where they will live and can start working almost immediately. Those who practice unprofessional professions, such as healthcare, are more likely to have their qualifications recognized without having to prove themselves in examinations. The renewed system has helped people like 35-year-old Alina Shchukina, who fled Kharkiv with her eight-year-old son amid heavy bombing on March 3. Within two weeks of arriving in Berlin, her family helped her get an interview to become a legal assistant at a corporate law firm. The job offer arrived the same day. “I was really surprised why it all happened so fast,” he said. “Germany makes it very easy for Ukrainians to receive benefits. But I could not wait for the war to end. I am not such a person”. Activists who have spent years campaigning for German immigration and asylum legislation are excited. “Instead of treating these refugees only as victims who are expected to return home as soon as possible, there is a genuine effort to integrate them into the labor market,” said Katarina Niewiedzial, an integration officer for the Berlin Senate. “I dare not say it, but I think we are witnessing a paradigm shift.” The change comes as a surprise because immigration authorities seemed to be taken aback by the outbreak of a war that had been threatening for months. When thousands of Ukrainian refugees began arriving at Berlin Central Station in early March, volunteers complained that they had been left to bear the burden. Andreas Ahrens, a retiree from Hamburg, opened his late father’s home on the outskirts of the northern German city to a group of Ukrainians in mid-March. “We did not have to think much about it: it was a decision we made in a matter of minutes,” he said. “Syria and Afghanistan, these places feel very far away, but Ukraine is right on our doorstep.” For other Germans, religion, ethnicity and gender may also have been factors that made them more willing to share their living space with refugees than in 2015. Tarek Alkouatly, a Syrian refugee who is now volunteering to help Ukrainians in Germany. Seven years ago, two-thirds of asylum seekers in Germany were men, although the gender balance among Syrian refugees in Germany has recently been reversed. Of the newly arrived Ukrainian adults receiving benefits in Germany this year, 83% are women. For the last two years of his life, Ahrens’s father lived alone in the four-story house. As of last month, it provides a home for five mothers and eight children. “Whenever I walk in the neighborhood now, I can not stop noticing how many houses in our neighborhood are empty and could accommodate more people,” he added. “It is madness”. Finding a residence permit to permanently house the Ukrainian diaspora will be a challenge, especially in large German cities already suffering from chronic homelessness, such as Berlin. Unlike the Syrians and Afghans who arrived earlier, Ukrainian passport holders are not bound by the municipalities to which they are assigned, but can vote on their own wherever they want to live and work. “Germany’s immigration system for Ukrainian refugees is in many ways a desirable outcome,” said Peter von Auer, legal adviser to the Pro Asyl refugee rights group. “We have spent years arguing that free choice creates a fairer system.” Tarek Alkouatly, 23, arrived in Germany from eastern Guta in October 2015, fleeing the war in Syria as an unaccompanied minor. Upon arrival, he spent the night at Dortmund’s Fritz-Henßler-Haus, a youth center that was reused as a temporary refugee camp. Seven years later, Alkouatly returns to the same center, this time as a volunteer, helping Ukrainians fill out forms in bureaucratic German and transporting food and blankets in his seven-seater. “I came to Germany without speaking the language, and that was sometimes extremely stressful,” said Syros, who is currently completing his secondary education while working as a courier at night. “Now that I speak German, I consider it my duty to help.” “Ukrainians have seen war, bombs and death like we do by the same enemy. “If you have only seen war on TV, you may want to help them, but not as intensely as when you have experienced it yourself.” Asked how he felt about Ukrainians being able to participate in German society without having to overcome some of the same legal and bureaucratic hurdles he and his countrymen faced, Alkouatly said: “If I’m really honest, I can feel a little bit. not fair. sometimes. “But of course I’m happy they have less problems. “It would just be nice if this was the same experience of all those who will leave the war in the future.”
