Environmental racism in Europe

Environmental racism in Europe has been documented in relation to racialized immigrant populations as well as Romani (Roma/Gypsy) and Indigenous communities (such as the Saami groups in Scandinavia) from within continental borders. Environmental racism describes the unequal distribution of negative environmental effects among different racial and ethnic groups—for example through policies that subject areas inhabited by minorities to development projects that benefit the majority population but puts the minority group at a disadvantage. In particular, the transition from socialism in Eastern and Central Europe has led to an increased visibility of Romani marginalization and environmental exclusion whose effects continue to be felt throughout Europe.

According to Trehan and Kocze, "EU accession for the post-socialist countries has resulted in a de facto centre and periphery within Europe itself, thus exacerbating the already marginal economic and political position of Roma in Europe whose communities continue to subsist as internal colonies within Europe."[1]:264 This peripheral position, in which segregated Romani settlements and their inhabitants become viewed as de-territorialized zones "beyond the pale" of government responsibility and European Union citizenship[1]:264 has been identified by some scholars as an aggravating factor in the prevalence of environmental hazards (such as proximity to industrial facilities and illegal or toxic waste dumps).[1]:252, 263[2][3]:19–20 Furthermore, this phenomenon has been identified in relation to the lack of basic services such as water, housing, sanitation[1]:263[3]:19–20 and access to education[4]:238–9 affecting marginalized Romani communities.

The effects of environmental marginalization may have related political implications for both Romani and Indigenous communities in Europe. Environmental justice and access to land-based rights is a significant issue, as both groups inhabit territories as non-majority populations under the sovereignty of various nation states.[5]:395 However, Romani and Indigenous groups often seek increased agency with regards to autonomy, self-government, and/or sovereignty without exercising exclusive territorial sovereignty rights.[5]:395

Central and Eastern Europe

In Central and Eastern Europe, socialist governments have generally prioritized industrial development over environmental protection, in spite of growing public and governmental environmental awareness in the 1960s and 1970s.[1]:255 Even though public concern over the environmental impacts of industrial expansion such as mine and dam construction grew in the late 1980s and early 1990s, policy makers continued to focus on privatization and economic development.[1]:255 Following the market transition, environmental issues have persisted, despite some improvements during the early stages of transition.[1]:255 Throughout this time, significant social restructuring took place alongside environmental changes.[1]:255

Romani peoples have inhabited Central and Eastern Europe for six hundred years,[1]:255 and have traditionally worked or been employed as agricultural day laborers, musicians, tinsmiths (tinkers), and blacksmiths.[1]:255 According to Krista Harper, Tamara Steger, and Richard Filčák, "low-income Roma in Hungary and Slovakia have borne the brunt of the post-socialist economic transformation."[1]:255 For example, it has been argued that Hungary's community of 100,000 Romani people living in segregated settlements has suffered as a result of poor social and environmental conditions.[3]:20

In Central and Eastern Europe, Romani people themselves are often treated as environmentally problematic subjects. One example is the recent phenomenon of Slovak authorities "targeting Romani communities for forced evictions under the pretext of environmental law."[6]

On October 30, 2012, 150 people were evicted from their homes in the district of Nižné Kapustníky (Kosice); 60 of the evicted residents were children.[6] Further evictions were planned for 200 people from the Pod Hrádkom neighbourhood of Prešov under similar legal circumstances.[6] According to the European Roma Rights Centre (ERRC), these evictions are part of a growing trend in which authorities are justifying evictions by designating Romani settlements as 'communal waste.'[6] Over 400 mayors of towns and villages in Slovakia have joined a movement by the name of Zobudme sa! (Let's Wake Up!) which, according to the ERRC, "aspires to coordinate a targeted programme of demolition aimed at Roma settlements by defining them as waste dumps."[6]

Another example of this phenomenon can be seen in the region near the transportation corridor between Prešov and Poprad in Slovakia. The area is an important foraging region for Romani communities, who collect mushrooms and berries during the summer for trade and direct consumption.[7]:126 Romani selling mushrooms and berries at the side of the road is a common sight; the activity is particularly important due to the poor living conditions of many Romani in the area, who frequently take part in the illegal harvesting of state and private agricultural lands.[7]:126 In 2006, a popular magazine published an article titled "Grasshoppers: While Roma from Tatra Region Make Money on Forests, Bears are Getting Hungry."[7]:126 In the article, it was alleged that due to Romani foraging, Slovak bears could not find sufficient food to survive the winter.[7]:127 This fits a pattern described by K. Harper et al, in which Romani people in Hungary are viewed as a group that "lacks environmental awareness," while simultaneously being "dissociated from any timeless connections to land":

Contemporary environmental discourses tend to portray marginalized and indigenous people in either of two ways: as noble savages or as environmental profligates (Krech, 1999). Unlike indigenous people, however, the Roma in Hungary are not associated with a timeless, revered 'environmental ethic'—perhaps because they were excluded from owning land (Csalog, 1994). In fact, the most destitute Roma have been chided for their short-sighted use of environmental resources: heating the house with forest wood and parts of the house itself (Ladányi and Szelényi, 2006 (...)), engaging in extremely hazardous scrap metal processing and allegedly overharvesting snowdrop flowers to sell in the city. While many observers acknowledge the structural inequalities and histories underlying Roma communities' rural and post-industrial indigence, the fact remains that non-Roma widely see the Roma as a group that profoundly lacks environmental awareness.[1]:263

Slovakia

In Slovakia, many Romani were settled by the fourteenth century.[7]:47 In 1927, a new Act on Nomadic Roma came into place, whose statutes dictated that nomadic Romani were not to settle in locations of their choosing, but as selected by the mayors of villages.[7]:48 During the Second World War, thousands of Slovak Romani were transported to extermination camps in Nazi Germany.[7]:48–9

Following the war, Romani were largely left out of postwar land redistribution schemes.[1]:255 Further to this, one of the first laws created by the postwar government was the 'Directive on Governing Certain Conditions of Gypsies,' which states that "In villages where they [Roma] have dwellings in proximity to public, state-owned and other roads, the dwellings will be removed, placed separately from the village on distant places selected by the village."[7]:48–9 The implications of this law was that Romani communities, recently liquidated by the Nazi Holocaust and without resources to purchase land, were now subject to the settlement plans of non-Romani decision-makers.[1]:255

After initially treating Romani as "non-workers existing 'outside the class system'" (in spite of their history of working as agricultural day laborers prior to the war),[1]:255 socialist governments created policies that led to the rapid integration of Romani communities into the industrial labour force.[1]:255 In spite of official socialist policies of equality, social divisions and social stratification remained. Romani communities experienced poverty emerging from the market transition, as well as significant vulnerability to environmental issues and the negative impacts of industrialization.[1]:255

In Slovakia, these issues are particularly visible in the eastern region of the country.[1]:256 During the mid-1950s, research was conducted on Romani shantytowns by the Slovak government; this research determined that there were 1,305 segregated Romani shantytowns[7]:49 (defined by Filčák as "units of irregular low-cost and self-constructed housing built on terrain seized and occupied legally or illegally—often on lands belonging to third parties, most often located on the periphery of cities).[7]:58 In 1965, after failed attempts at economic and social integration, the Slovak government began to attempt more drastic policies aimed at assimilation of the Romani body politic.[7]:49–50 The new policies, aimed primarily at Romani settlements in Eastern Slovakia[7]:50 sought to create employment for all able-bodied Romani, particularly Roma males; the termination of Romani shantytowns and resettlement into modern housing; and programs to support Romani students accessing formal education.[7]:50 At this time, out of a total country-wide population of 153,000 Romani, 103,000 (67.3%) were living in shantytown settlements.[7]:50–51 In spite of these policies, shantytowns only decreased in number slowly.[7]:51

According to a 2004 survey by sociologists from the Social Policy Analysis Center (SPACE) Foundation and the Institute for Public Affairs Bratislava, with support from the World Bank and the Canadian International Development Agency, and conducted on behalf of the Slovakian government, there are an estimated 320,000 Romani individuals living in Slovakia in 1,575 "integrated and segregated settlements."[1]:257 According to this study, out of a total of 619 segregated settlements identified, 418 of these settlements are located in the East, and some of these settlements have close to 100% unemployment.[1]:257 According to Filčák, after the resettlement program was terminated as a result of post-socialist funding shortages, shantytowns began to grow again, largely due to economic conditions.[7]:64

As these settlements have grown, impoverished Romani communities became more visible, land has become scarce, and tensions with non-Romani communities have risen.[7]:64 The environmental implications of this scenario has been that that these communities have been marginalized onto environmentally problematic parcels of land,[7]:64 where patterns of environmental issues entail exposure to hazardous waste and chemicals, vulnerability to floods, limited access to potable water, and discriminatory waste management practices.[7]:152

Further deepening these patterns of environmental concerns, the rapid growth of these settlements[7]:64 in a context where freedom of settlement and movement is restricted due to discrimination from the majority population[7]:37 has complicated property rights and entitlements[7]:64 and hence the legal ability to participate in land-based decision-making.[7]:41–3 According to Filčák, Romani in Slovakia "usually own most of the land under their houses in shantytowns, and they do not own any agricultural land or forest in villages" (...).[7]:42 Due to land ownership laws in Slovakia, Romani settlements exist in a context of "fragmented land divided among many owners, making any entitlements control based on ownership often [not] only virtual (sic), but non-existent in reality."[7]:42 In the words of Filčák,

many Roma settlements are found on the outskirts of villages, separated from the majority of the population by roads, railways or other barriers, disconnected from water pipelines and sewage treatment, and close to landfills or in regularly flooded areas. The location of these settlements confirms experience from other countries: access to natural resources and exposure to environmental risks are not equally distributed and class and/or ethnic affiliation play[s] [an] important role (sic).[7]:43

Several Romani communities in Eastern Slovakia have been identified by Filčák as examples of systemic environmental injustice.

Rudňany

The region of Slovenské Rudohorie has a long industrial history, which includes gold, silver, copper, and other metal mining and processing, and has been listed as being one of the ten most polluted regions in Slovakia.[7]:73The region and mine tailings is contaminated with mercury, acidic water from sulfide, and lead.[7]:74–6

In the village of Rudňany, there has been a Romani settlement situated on top of the abandoned factory site of Zabíjanec[7]:69 since the 1970s; after the site's closure in 1965[7]:80 it was likely settled with the "silent approval" of socialist authorities.[7]:77 As of 2011, 640 persons lived there,[7]:72 in conditions severely contaminated by heavy metals.[7]:82 Children at Zabíjanec are at particularly high risk of health effects, such as neurological damage.[3]:21

By 2003, the number of industrial workers in the mines and processing plants had decreased from 2,500 at the start of the 1990s to 150.[7]:71 In 2010, 1,700 out of Rudňany's 3,775 inhabitants were Romani, who are highly segregated from the majority population.[7]:72 Many also live in the Pätoracké shantytown; according to Filčák, approximately 570 Romani were living there in 2011.[7]:72 These Romani communities largely settled in the area during the 1950s to work as miners.[7]:76

In the 1970s, subsidence of structures above the mine shafts, along with encroaching contaminated mine waste compelled authorities to relocate residents from Pätoracké to new homes in Spišská Nová Ves and Smižany.[7]:78 However, the Romani shantytowns were not relocated, nor were new Romani migrants prevented from settling in the area.[7]:78 In 2007, in response to a sinkhole incident in 2001,[7]:78 257 residents were relocated to new apartments, which while outside the landslide and subsidence danger zones, are still surrounded by dumps of mine waste, while also continuing to be ethnically segregated.[7]:79 As of 2009, over 300 people remained in the danger zone, living in a shantytown without sewers, sewage treatment, running water, or garbage collection. Meanwhile, residents from the main village of Rudňany municipality regularly dispose of household waste in an unauthorized dump 300 meters below the Pätoracké settlement.[7]:135

Krompachy

The Romani settlement in Krompachy has 400 residents,[7]:135 largely former employees of the nearby copper smelter.[7]:133 Separated from the town of Krompachy by a road and a stream, the settlement is located at the foot of a hill next to the smelter.[7]:133 Only several apartments in the settlement are occupied by non-Romani families, most of whom left the area over time.[7]:133–4 The Krompachy smelter has been producing electrolytic copper in Slovakia since 1937, and is the only facility of its kind in the country.[7]:133–4 According to measurements taken by the Slovak Academy of Sciences, the area is highly contaminated with arsenic, lead, zinc, and copper, and there is unsubstantiated evidence to suggest that contamination may be more severe in the Romani settlement than in the town proper.[7]:134

Trebišov

In a Romani neighbourhood in the town of Trebišov, there is a slaughterhouse and meat-processing plant. These facilities are the source of odours and waste which is stored in open containers in an unfenced location that is frequented by Romani people in search of food. Due to the rapid rate of decay of this unrefrigerated waste, especially during the summer, it poses a significant health risk for those who consume it, while also attracting insects and rats.[7]:135

Svinka River Watershed

The Romani shantytowns of Hermanovce, Jarovnice, and Svinia are located within several kilometres of each other within the upper Svinka River Watershed;[7]:99 all three have histories of being subject to flooding.[7]:120 Jarovnice, which has an unofficial population of 5,000,[7]:109 is one of the largest shantytowns in Slovakia.[7]:110 Residents do not have access to safe, potable water.[7]:110 Water quality in all three settlements has been problematic, particularly with regards to increasing nitrates contamination from industrial fertilizers used by agricultural activity in the region.[7]:110–20 In 1998, 47 people died in floods in the region; 45 of the victims were Romani, and 42 of them were from Jarovnice. One person from Svinia died, and 500 people from the shantytown had to be evacuated.[7]:123 In Hermanovce, there is a Romani shantytown of 300 persons[7]:107 located on low-lying land with a high water table in between forks of the Svinka River;[7]:107–8 meanwhile, the village dump is located in close proximity above the shantytown, and is not lined to prevent leachate contamination, causing seepage into the community.[7]:108–9 According to Filčák, the construction of a landfill "in close proximity to the Roma settlements, without involvement of the affected people is almost a 'classical' example of the environmental injustice in both distributional and procedural aspects."[7]:129

In the words of Anna Husarova, a Romani woman from Jarovnice, the location of these settlements in relation to flood vulnerability has a historical context:

[After the war] survivors had to settle next to forests, in the middle of fields or on riverbanks. These were the only places where they were allowed to settle down and start over. They built huts and began to call them flats. No attention was paid to them, and they were given no help.[7]:104

Other Romani settlements in Cminianske Jakubovany, Petrova, and Markovce have also experienced vulnerability to flooding.[7]:152

Hungary

In Hungary, the proximity of Romani settlements to garbage dumps, along with a lack of access to potable water and sanitation infrastructure has been an ongoing concern.[3]:20–1 In a Romani shantytown in Heves, the recycling of car batteries from an unauthorized dump for income caused the death of one child and serious disabilities among a number of residents.[3]:21 In Hungary, it is believed that environmental health conditions contribute to the low life expectancy of Romani people, whose life expectancy is on average 10–15 years lower than for non-Romani.[3]:21

Another region facing environmental issues is Sajószentpéter. A town of 14,000 near Miskolc in northeastern Hungary, it was a minor industrial center for the majority of the 20th century, namely in the production of coal and glass.[1]:259 During the market transition from socialism, both the factory and the mine were closed down, causing the entire population of the town to lose its employment within the span of several months, without new economic development since.[1]:259

A Romani settlement in Sajószentpéter is located separately from the town in a nearby wetland, and is connected by a bridge.[1]:259 Several issues of environmental injustice have been identified, such as illegal dumping in the Romani settlement by non-Romani as well as residents, as well as unequal access to green space, water distribution, sewerage, and housing quality.[1]:260

Following the formation of a grassroots community organization in the Romani settlement called the Sajó River Association for Environment and community Development (SAKKF), Romani and youth-led initiatives in partnership with outside activists have seen the development of ongoing environmental-justice oriented projects.[1]:259–62 One project that resulted from these initiatives was the Romani youth-led photography exhibit, 'This is also Sajószentpéter' ('Ez is Sajószentpéter'), which was held at Central European University in June 2007.[1]:261

Czech Republic

In Ostrava,[3]:32 Romani communities have been residing in living accommodations situated on top of an abandoned mine where methane gas exposure and subsidence are serious concerns.[3]:21 Ostrava has one of the largest Romani communities in the Czech Republic.[3]:32

The neighbourhood of Slezska Ostrava of Hrusov, also in Ostrava, was formerly a middle class neighbourhood whose residents left between 1950 and 1970 to live in better apartments.[3]:32 In 1980, a highway overpass was built nearby. In 1997, severe flooding took place, following which the area was declared uninhabitable due to the dangers of flooding. Since then, a new housing project, "Coexistence Village" has been facilitated, in which a grassroots movement saw ethnic Czech and Romani communities collaboratively build new houses for themselves together to create desegregated housing.[3]:33

Kosovo

Mitrovica lead poisoning disaster

During the 1999 war in Kosovo, Romani communities did not align militarily with Serbian or Albanian forces during the ethnic-based conflict.[8][9] As a result, four-fifths of the Romani people in Kosovo were violently expelled from their homes.[4]:239 NATO did not intervence.[4]:239 In total, 100,000 Romani Kosovars were displaced.[10] 50,000 fled to the European Union; however, due to their legal status as internally displaced persons, they were not legally allowed to freely leave the territories of the former Yugoslavia.[8]

The UNHCR relocated five hundred displaced Romani from the community of Mahala in Mitrovica to a camp in northern Kosovo[4]:209 located on top of an abandoned lead tailings site at the former Trepča mining complex in Kosovska.[9][10][8] In 2005, the World Health Organization stated that "the worst environmental disaster for children in the whole of Europe" was happening, declaring the camps unfit for human habitation and in need of immediate evacuation.[4]:209

Prior to the war, the Romani community of Mahala was prosperous and self-sufficient. According to Skender Gushani of the Association for the Protection of Roma Rights Mitrovica

We [the Romani of Mahala] had shops, a market, restaurants, our own local government council with representatives, and we maintained our culture and traditions. We didn't have to go to town for anything because here we had everything we needed. In our neighbourhood we had technical equipments [sic], car repair shops and masons (...) 6000 of us had jobs at Trepca, the battery factory of Zvecan, where we smelted lead. There were also some among us, about 20 of us, who are well-educated and worked in the local government council.[8]

According to Avdula Mustafa, an activist with the Roma and Ashkalia Documentation Center, the UNHCR promised that the refugee camps in Kosovska were only temporary, and would be closed within 45 days.[8] However, the UNHCR added a second and third camp, indicating no intention of relocating from the site.[8] The names of the three camps were Cesmin Lug, Kablare, and Osterode.[8] These camps were located on or near 500 tonnes of toxic waste.[8] Across the River Ibar, there is a further 100 million tonnes of toxic slag,[8] a legacy of mining and smelting activities at the Trepča complex whose operations spanned from 1927 to 2000.[8]

At these new settlements, living conditions were severely substandard. Constructed by the UNHCR in collaboration with Action by Churches Together, houses on the toxic sites were built with lead-painted boards, no working sewerage system, and no reliable sources of running water.[8] Residents lived in fear of violence from neighboring non-Romani communities, restricting their freedom of movement and ability to leave the camps.[8]

In 2000, the World Health Organization conducted the first round of blood tests of residents in the camps. Blood lead levels were so high that the WHO recommended immediate evacuation of the camps, as well as fencing off the sites to prevent future exposure.[10] In 2005, the WHO conducted further tests which determined that levels of lead in the blood of children from the camps were the highest ever recorded among humans.[8]

Tests for lead poisoning among 60 children were administered by Dr. Miljana Stojanovich, a doctor working for the Institute of Public Health in Mitrovica, who later stated "I haven't heard of results like this from anywhere else in the world…such high lead-levels in blood from such a small area."[10] The tests determined that most children had blood lead levels higher than 65 micrograms per deciliter, the highest Dr. Stojanovich's instruments could measure.[10] Test samples sent to a lab in Belgium were re-taken in order to verify if such levels were even possible.[9] 10 micrograms per deciliter is the threshold at which brain damage begins, including IQ loss, according to Dorit Nitzan, Director of WHO Serbia, who has stated that the camps constitute "one of the most serious public health disasters in modern Europe."[8]

In spite of concerns over lead exposure, the UNHCR decided to keep the camps open.[10] Shortly after receiving the 2000 test results, the UN built a jogging track and basketball court between two of the settlements, naming the area the "Alley of Health."[10] Signs in poorly translated English posted at the site by the UNHCR read

ALLEY OF HEALTH - LENGTH OF ALLEY -1500 METERS - INHALE THE ODOUR OF HEALTH - THERE ARE CHALLENGES AWAITING FOR YOU - WIN - SPIRIT IS HEALTHY IN HEALTHY BODY[10]

In the opinion of Ilija Elezovich from the Kosovo Health Authority during a 2005 interview, "the danger is so great that it threatens to destroy one full generation of Roma children ... they [UNHCR] made a catastrophic mistake by building these camps. Nobody cared about the danger of this location. This is very tragic for everybody, but especially for the Roma inhabitants."[10]

According to a 2008 and subsequent 2009 interview with Avdula Mustafa, the UNHCR responded to intense international attention toward the case by publicly promoting a plan to move residents to a former French military barracks.[8] However, this proposed site was only 50 meters away from one of the original settlements, and thus of minimal improvement in terms of environmental health impacts.[8] Romani activists such as Mustafa have speculated that the UNHCR was attempting to pressure residents into returning to their former homes, despite grave fears over their personal safety.[8] Concern related to these allegations grew following withdrawals of international assistance including emergency medications used to mitigate lead poisoning among children and pregnant women.[8] By 2005, 29 deaths had been recorded in the camps.[10] By 2012, that number had risen to approximately 100, most of them children.[9] In 2012, 100 families were moved off the contaminated site, but 40 families remained.[9]

The UN Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK) has granted itself diplomatic immunity[11] claiming it cannot be held legally accountable for its actions.[10] However, a lawsuit was initiated by the European Roma Rights Centre in 2006 with the European Court of Human Rights.[11] All children conceived in the camps have irreversible brain damage.[10]

Western Europe

Germany

The systematic targeting and genocide of Romani and Sinti communities in Germany during the Holocaust was not officially recognized until 1982.[12] In absence of comprehensive reparation or conciliation processes,[12] Romani and Sinti in Germany have experienced ongoing violence, harassment, and marginalization[13][14]:148–52 within a broader context of environmental discrimination.[12][15]:6 The relationship between postwar socio-economic exclusion of Romani and Sinti communities with environmental marginalization has been documented by scholars such as Alphia Abdikeeva as early as 2002.[12][14]:177 According to Abdikeeva, Heuss, and Kawczyński, "most of the so-called 'Sinti settlements' were formed after the war, when German Sinti and Roma who returned to their hometowns from concentration camps were resettled in city and town slums, usually in the least attractive area, in conditions which posed serious environmental and health risks."[14]:177

Kalk toxic site (Romani settlement)

In 2001, the city of Cologne became involved in a dispute involving the forcible resettlement of Romani refugees from Yugoslavia who had been residing in the city since the 1990s.[12][16][16] The refugees were moved to a substandard facility outside of the city; following repeated floods, the residents were moved to a new settlement in the town of Kalk and assigned to housing that consisted of wood structures with a mere 3.5 metres of space allocated per person.[16]

The location had previously been deemed unfit for human habitation due to contamination from a decommissioned chemical plant that had been built during the 1960s.[12][16] High concentrations of lead and arsenic have been documented in the ground. At 400 milligrams per cubic metre, lead concentrations exceeded federal limits of exposure for children by 8.5 times and 4.25 times for adults.[16] At 69 milligrams per cubic metre, arsenic concentrations were at three times the allowable limit for children, and 1.5 times the acceptable level for adults.[16]

According to the European Roma Rights Centre, the resettlement process was allegedly orchestrated in a way so as to make the lives of the refugees uninhabitable to compel them to return to the former Yugoslavia.[12] Following a campaign by the local NGO Rom e.V., the refugees were placed on a ship in hazardous conditions during which time several accidents involving children occurred, including one death.[16] By November 2003, the refugees were placed in local hostels.[16]

Nuremberg Sinti settlement

As of 2009, there was a Sinti settlement located in Nuremberg located between "freight transport lines and other train tracks within an industrial area of the zone."[15]:35 Proximity to train tracks has been identified as a risk aggravator for exposure to pollution and other negative environmental concerns.[15]:39

Düsseldorf Sinti settlement

As of 2002, a settlement of several hundred Sinti persons was located next to a highway on the outskirts of Düsseldorf where substandard housing conditions, illegal waste dumping concerns, and minimal access to heating utilities were documented.[12] Residents were obstructed from constructing improved living accommodations due to "bureaucratic obstacles."[12]

Henkel Terosonstrasse Sinti settlement

Several hundred Sinti families reside on the outskirts of Heidelberg in a settlement by the name of Henkel Terosonstrasse,[16] in a chemically contaminated area outside city limits.[12] Most residents are unemployed; both the land and groundwater are believed to be contaminated.[16] Across the street from the Sinti houses is a chemical plant operated by Henkel Chemical Company.[12] In spite of health concerns, no studies on health and environmental impacts have been conducted.[16]

Berlin Land Dreilinden property (Sinti camp)

Since 1995, authorities in Berlin have operated a user-fee camping facility for seasonal Sinti workers on the Dreilinden property.[12] The facility houses up to 200 persons[15]:39 and is a source of concern due to its location on the outskirts of Berlin, constructed along 100 meters of railway line.[12] Housing conditions are poor, while utilities and infrastructure is minimal.[12]

Georgwerderring Sinti settlement

In the mid-1980s, authorities selected a former toxic waste dump as the location for a new Sinti settlement by the name of Georgwerderring on the outskirts of Hamburg, in spite of the site having been deemed unfit for human habitation during the mid-1970s.[16] Home to at least 200 persons,[16] residents were not informed of the site's history.[14]:177 There are concerns that rising groundwater may have forced toxins to the surface and contaminated the land and air, sparking fears among some medical experts that birth defects, stillborns, and certain illnesses could be dramatically on the rise.[16] The settlement is isolated, poorly served by public transportation, and located in close proximity to the new Hamburg city dump posing further ongoing health concerns.[14]:178

Kistnersgrund Sinti settlement

In the 1970s, the Kistnersgrund Sinti settlement was constructed in Bad Hersfeld, Hesse. Located on the outskirts of the city, it was situated on top of a garbage dump.[14]:178 Following a hepatitis outbreak in the early 1980s, authorities relocated the community to a new settlement called Haunewiese, where residents have experienced substandard housing conditions.[14]:178

Other populations affected by environmental racism

According to Steger, Turkish immigrants are at elevated risk of working in unsafe employment conditions.[3]:15 This phenomenon has also been linked to Turkish immigrants living in proximity to hazardous industrial facilities with very high pollution emissions.[3]:15 Another example of environmental discrimination can be found in Wuppertal, where a series of cellphone transmission towers are situated on the roofs of schools where the majority of students are immigrants.[3]:15 Also, environmental discrimination in Germany can be economically and class-based, without immediate connotations to race. For example, the community of Gorleben is economically disadvantaged; plans to construct a nuclear waste facility there have been attributed to the community's marginalized economic status.[3]:15

France

Immigrant populations and proximity to hazardous waste facilities

In France, categories of minority and race are not officially recognized, nor are they recorded in census or socio-demographic data, which can make instances of environmental racism difficult to identify.[17]:59 Only nationality and country of birth are recorded, and only for first-generation migrants; persons born abroad in France are mostly from North and Sub-Saharan Africa, as well as a smaller presence from Eastern Europe.[17]:64

According to a 2008 study by Lucie Laurian, "towns with high proportions of immigrants tend to host more hazardous sites, even controlling for population size, income, [and] degree of industrialization of the town and region."[17]:55 In the case of towns which have the highest percentage of residents who are born abroad, there is a significantly higher likelihood for there to be polluted sites nearby.[17]:68 As stated by Laurian,

The quarter of towns with the highest proportion of persons born abroad (more than 6.3%) are, for example, three times more likely to have illegal dumps, five times more likely to have Seveso ["sites where dangerous, toxic or flammable materials are stored permanently or temporarily"[17]:61] and seven times more likely to have Basol ["sites where (1) soil and/or groundwater are either known to be polluted or potentially polluted; (2) pose or can pose risks to persons or the environment; and (3) are the object of public intervention"[17]:61 sites than the quarter of towns with the lowest proportion of persons born abroad (less than 1.8%).[17]:68

Romani settlements and e-waste

There is also evidence to suggest that Romani communities in France may be experiencing forms of environmental discrimination. According to a 2010 investigative report by Ecologist written by Carolyn Lebel, some Romani people in France have been compelled by "poverty and discrimination" to become involved with the scavenging of electronic waste (e-waste), handling an unknown quantity of the 750,000 tonnes of French e-waste that annually disappears into informal disposal and recycling networks.[18]

Due to allegedly discriminatory employment regulations in France, many Romani find it impossible to gain formal employment.[18] As a result, many have turned to clandestine recycling operations of e-waste in slums outside of large French cities.[18] At these sites, e-waste is broken into various types of metals, such as aluminum, copper, iron, and lead. Copper is extracted from cables by burning them in open fires, while car batteries are melted down for lead and refrigerators are sent through car crushers without removing cooling agents, which can release up to four tonnes of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere per unit.[18]

According to the observations of Bernard Moriau, "[The Romani] would work directly above these clouds of black smoke," in reference to Romani people he witnessed working in a forest in the Val d'Oise region near Paris.[18] In 2008, contamination from cancer-causing heavy metals was found in an evicted Romani camp near Lyon; likewise, this finding was preceded by a 1998 study in Bordeaux, Annecy, and Toulouse.[18] The study, conducted by Doctors of the World and local NGO's, identified abnormal lead exposure in fifty percent of children at the camps.[18] Furthermore, one-quarter of the children examined were identified as having lead poisoning. In a 2010 case, 19 children at a site in Lyon were found to have high levels of blood lead levels.[18]

According to Jean-Claude Guiraud, thousands of children in France living at or near illegal recycling sites are at risk of lead exposure, which, according to Guiraud "can cause permanent damage to all the organs including the brain."[18] In spite of these statistics, the issue, as of 2010, has received little attention from authorities in France.[18]

Portugal

According to research in 2011 by Lydia Gall, a lawyer for the European Roma Rights Centre, Romani in Portugal are subject to an "appalling" housing situation without access to roads or drinking water.[19] In many cases, Romani communities are located in geographically segregated locations, such as behind hills and on the outskirts of cities without access to transportation; in some cases, segregation has been further entrenched by the construction of walls to separate Romani settlements from surrounding neighbourhoods.[19] Several cases of environmental injustice have been identified, such as in Bragança, Rio Maior, Beja, and Vidigueira.[19]

In Bragança, in the far north of the country, Gall has described how "a community was kicked out of its camp by the authorities, who told them they could live in the garbage dump."[19]

In Rio Maior, 85 kilometres north of Lisbon, Gall has described a scenario in which "14 gypsy [Romani] families were placed in precarious wooden houses, on top of a hazardous coal mine and separated from the rest of the population by a dense forest."[19]

According to Gall, one "extreme" case of discrimination can be found in Beja, 180 kilometres south of Lisbon, where Romani are settled in social housing constructed "with a separation wall, far from the urban centre and near a dog pound, whose sewage containing animal excrement runs through the housing project, with obvious consequences for the health of the inhabitants."[19]

In Vidigueira, 160 kilometres south of Lisbon, a Romani settlement had its sole source of potable water shut off by the police.[19]

Italy

Environmental racism and Nomad Camps

In Rome, over 4,000 Romani (Roma/Gypsy) persons live in encampments authorized by the Italian national and Roman municipal governments.[20]:5 As of 2013, 40,000 Romani persons were living in camps throughout Italy.[20]:26 In response to the Italian government's alleged "Nomad Emergency" in 2008, in which a federal decree was passed stating that Romani communities were causing a "situation of grave social alarm, with possible repercussions for the local population in terms of public order and security,"[20]:8 an emergency "Nomad Plan" was devised by the municipal government of Rome.[20]:8 Under the "Nomad Emergency" decree, special funds were allocated by the government to close informal Romani settlements and encampments in Rome, and to resettle a maximum of 6,000 Romani persons into 13 authorized camps.[20]:8 According to Amnesty International, "The decree was later declared unfounded and unlawful by the Council of State in November 2011 and by the Supreme Court in April 2013."[20]:8 By 2013, living conditions in these camps had deteriorated severely due to overcrowding and a lack of utilities and other basic infrastructure.[20]:9 Many of these segregated camps existed in conditions bearing evidence of environmental racism. As of 2010, six of the camps were located far from residential areas, situated outside Rome's Grande Raccordo Anulare, the city's orbital highway.[20]:17 One camp, Castel Romano, cannot be accessed by public transportation, and is located along a notably dangerous motorway, the Via Pontina.[20]:17 Another camp, Nuovo Barbuta, is situated between a railroad, Rome's orbital highway, and the runway of Ciampino airport.[20]:20 Due to a lack of public transportation, residents of the Nuovo Barbuto camp must walk long distances along an unpaved shoulder of a busy road in order to leave the camp; furthermore, they are subject to air and noise pollution from the nearby airport.[20]:20

As of 2010, another authorized settlement, Triboniano Camp, was "squeezed between a railway track, cemetery, and container storage" in an industrial area of Milan.[2][21]

Exposure of Romani communities to toxic waste in Campania

Further information: Triangle of death (Italy)

Romani people in two settlements near Giugliano in the Campania region north of Naples have been severely affected by pollution and exposure to toxic waste.[2][22][23][24][25]

In Italy, an estimated 11.6 million tons of waste are illegally disposed of each year.[22] According to ex-Cosa Nostra member Carmine Schiavone, millions of tons of waste from factories in northern Italy have been illegally disposed of in the region north of Naples for decades, allegedly with mafia involvement and the complicity of government authorities and police.[22] In 2004, the area surrounding Acerra was labeled by British medical journal The Lancet Oncology as a "triangle of death" where the incidence of two-headed sheep has been recorded.[22]

According to the Italian environmental organization Legambiente, in 2012 the total financial value of the illegal garbage industry in Italy was estimated at over 16 billion euros.[22] Furthermore, over the course of testimony delivered to a secret parliamentary investigative committee in Rome on October 7, 1997 (which was kept classified until October 2013, following its release in the face of mounting public pressure), Schiavone alleged that nuclear waste from East Germany was also secretly transported to the region, along with other wastes containing dioxin, asbestos, and tetrachloroethylene.[22]

In media coverage of the issue, the region has been referred to as "Terra dei fuochi" or "Land of Fires" due to the widespread circulation of images of illegal waste incineration projects in local garbage dumps;[22] in some of these photographs, children, likely Romani, were depicted in the presence of these scenes.[22] The region has also been referred to as the "Land of Poison."[22] Concerns over the safety of food production in the fertile agricultural region (much of which is still believed to be uncontaminated) persist; in one extreme example, a worker from the Italian National Forest Service, General Sergio Costa, spoke of an incident in which he took part in the exhumation of barrels of toxic waste from beneath a cauliflower field in Caivano; according to an article published in Der Spiegel, the "plastic gloves some of the officers were using to handle the waste dissolved on contact."[22]

As of 2014, 5,281 contaminated sites and suspected waste dumps have been located by American military investigators.[22] Meanwhile, the region's 500,000 inhabitants have been disproportionately impacted by medical ailments; according to Antonio Merfella of the Italian Cancer Research Institute in Naples, the region of Campania has the highest rate of infertility in Italy; in the province of Naples, lung cancer among non-smokers is increasing, while tumors in general have increased 47 percent among males.[22] The region has also become known for disproportionate cases of autism.[22]

One of the contaminated Romani camps in Giugliano is unofficial, populated by 500 persons most of whom are migrants from the former Yugoslavia.[2] Built in 1991 and home to 85 families, it is in effect a series of camps located "northwest of Naples, at the outer limits of the urban centre, on the external ring-road following the State Highway 162," surrounded by industrial lands.[2] Even though it is a so-called "spontaneous" unauthorized settlement, the Government of Campania has developed a 24-hour surveillance and barricade system surrounding the camp, contracted to the private security firm Falko Security S.R.I.S.[2]

The camp is subject to severe pollution. According to Raffaella Inglese in the 2010 book Mapping the Invisible, environmental justice concerns for residents entail

noise pollution produced by the neighbouring factories, air pollution from the same factories and [an] ex-centre for refuse collection; pollution from the burnt refuse; the danger of the roads being very near their homes and the areas in which their children play; the dirt and run-off from the illegal dumping of toxic industrial waste in the immediate vicinity and the necessity to wash themselves outside which is dangerous for children.[2]

Another environmentally hazardous camp, Masseria del Pozzo, is also located in the Giugliano region.[23][25] This camp, established in March 2013,[23] is an official settlement, forcibly created following the eviction of other camps in the Giugliano region, and is scheduled for closure.[25] It is currently home to approximately 260 persons as of March 2016.[25] In 2014, the population of the camp was estimated to be 500 persons,[22] with approximately 300–400 children.[24] According to the European Roma Rights Centre, the community in the camp has resided at various camps within the Naples region for the past 25 years; according to the European Roma Rights Centre, "almost all of the inhabitants of the camp are residing lawfully in Italy; they generally have permanent resident status in Italy and some are Italian citizens."[23]

The settlement is located next to a toxic waste dump where persistent issues of hazardous biogas leaks from the landfill are allegedly causing severe health concerns.[24] Residents of the settlement have reported mysterious deaths and disabilities among children and youths, as well as pneumonia and other sicknesses among children.[24] According to camp resident Giuliano Seferovic, authorities originally informed residents that they would only be placed at the location for a month; this promised timeframe extended to two months, and then nearly a year by the time of the interview.[24] The camp is located next to the Masseria del Pozzo dump; it is also near the Novambiente toxic waste site.[24] In a video interview with Mario De Biase, Government Commissioner for Reclaims (Land Reclamation), De Biase discusses the issue of toxic gases:

Surely these landfills are perhaps the most dangerous for their potential environmental disaster and effects not only on the environment but directly on human health (...)

They are all gases coming from the landfill. They transmigrate through the permeability of the soil and arrive into this pit where they find their way to come out in the air. One cannot say that a child who lives 24 hours a day between the smoke of the mineralization of VOC [volatile organic compounds] of the well, who lives and plays on soils contaminated by hazardous waste, who crosses the road for 5 meters and ends up on a landfill where there are all the fumes of biogas and leachate, obviously I do not think that is good for the child, neither for adults.[24]

Following the announcement of the planned closure of the settlement, Romani rights organizations such as Associazione 21 luglio and the European Roma Rights Centre condemned plans to forcibly relocate the community to a new segregated camp,[23][25] with Associazione 21 luglio expressing particular concern over the potential creation of a larger segregated "mega-camp" where further social marginalization could take place.[25]

Norway

Further information: Alta controversy

The construction of the Alta dam in Norway has been identified as a possible instance of environmental injustice, with significant negative implications for the livelihoods and cultural identity of neighbouring Saami (Sami) communities,[26]:156 along with other non-Saami northern communities that opposed the project.[26]:158 Norwegian government support of the dam was largely justified by the argument that construction of the dam would lead to increased prosperity and economic development.[26]:151

According to environmental scholar Chad M. Briggs, "the dam's impacts on reindeer herding, salmon and river quality constituted environmental burdens that were borne by Alta residents, without crucial state consideration of the resources' environmental and identity values."[26]:150 According to Briggs, the project marginalized the political status of Saami communities while serving as a vehicle for extending "Norwegian modernist and development ideologies."[26]:150 Viewed from this perspective, the dam was based on a northern development strategy defined by ethnocentrism and marginalization of local knowledge.[26]:150

Initial planning of the Alta dam project began in the 1960s.[26]:151 This planning took place in a closed context, with local residents and stakeholders excluded from knowledge about the plans under development.[26]:150–1 Coordination of the planning took place under the direction of the Norwegian Water Resources and Energy Administration (NVE), and continued under secrecy until the mid-1960s, when, during a visit to a regional engineering office in Narvik, Tryge Lund Guttormsen, a Saami teacher from the village of Masi, inadvertently discovered maps depicting his village under a planned reservoir.[26]:151

The area around Masi and the adjoining local authority districts of Alta and Kárášjohka-Karasjok has a significant Saami population, many of whom were (and continue to be) engaged in reindeer herding and coastal fishing.[26]:151 At the time, Masi was a 100% Saami speaking village of 400 people.[26]:151

The NVE publicly announced plans for the dam in 1970.[26]:152 Under the NVE plan, 40 kilometres along the Alta River and nearby areas would be flooded, totaling 75 square kilometres.[26]:152 The Saami villages of Masi and Mieron (Mierojávri) would be subject to inundation, while water from the Tana River would be diverted into the Alta.[26]:152 In response to the lack of consultation with regards to the flooding of their villages, and concerns over potential impacts on their centuries-long traditional livelihood of reindeer herding, which was seen as a "direct affront to their culture," Saami communities strongly opposed the project.[26]:152–3

In 1973, the Masi River was designated as a protected river. Along with international pressure, particularly from Finland, NVE plans to flood the area including Masi village were withdrawn. In 1978, a smaller version of the project was approved by the Storting.[26]:154 This revised version entailed one dam instead of two, and a reduction of power capacity from 1400 to 625 Gigwatt-hours (GWh).[26]:154

A series of protests ensued. These protests included a 1979 hunger strike by Saami protesters in front of the Storting (Norwegian Parliament) in Oslo, along with the establishment of a protest camp in Alta, attended by several thousand protesters.[26]:154 The camp was dispersed in 1981 by 600 non-local national police and military forces in what amounted as the largest police mobilization in Norway since the Second World War.[26]:154–5Following this event, a second protest camp in Alta was established; up to 1000 people were arrested. A third protest camp on the access road in the area between Alta and Stilla was then established; this camp was also countered by hundreds of police officers.[26]:155 After a 1982 Supreme Court ruling in favor of dam construction, construction continued.[26]:155

The Alta dam was completed in 1987.[26]:155

References

  1. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 Harper, Krista; Steger, Tamara; Filčák, Richard. "Environmental Justice and Roma Communities in Central and Eastern Europe." Environmental Policy and Governance Env. Pol. Gov. 19, 251–268. 2009. Wiley InterScience, doi:10.1002/eet.511. Web. April 10, 2016.
  2. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Orta, Lucy et al., eds. Mapping the Invisible: EU-Roma Gypsies. London, UK: Black Dog Publishing, 2010. Print. p. 74–5
  3. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Steger, Tamara et al. eds. Making the Case for Environmental Justice in Central & Eastern Europe. Budapest: CEU Center for Environmental Policy and Law, The Central European University; The Health and Environment Alliance; and The Coalition for Environmental Justice, March 2007. pp. 1–57. Web. April 10, 2016.
  4. 1 2 3 4 5 Pellow, David Naguib. Resisting Global Toxics: Transnational Movements for Environmental Justice. Cambridge, Massachusetts : MIT Press, 2007. Print.
  5. 1 2 Klímová-Alexander, Ilona. "Transnational Romani and Indigenous Non-territorial Self-determination Claims." Ethnopolitics 6 (3): 395–416. September 25, 2007. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. Web. Web. April 10, 2016. doi:10.1080/17449050701487413
  6. 1 2 3 4 5 Gökҫen, Sinan. "Slovak Republic Targets Roma Homes as 'Waste.'" European Roma Rights Centre. December 20, 2012. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  7. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 Filčák, Richard. Living Beyond the Pale: Environmental Justice and the Roma Minority. Budapest: Central European University Press, 2012. Project MUSE. p. 5-163. Web. April 8, 2016.
  8. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 Bársony, Kata műsora. "Trapped—the Forgotten Story of the Mitrovica Roma." Video. A Kata Bársony series, Duna Television. Mundi Romani. 2008. Web. April 10, 2016.
  9. 1 2 3 4 5 Morton, Thomas. "The VICE Guide to the Balkans—Part 4." The VICE Guide to Travel. Video. VICE, 2012. Web. April 10, 2016.
  10. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Polansky, Paul. Gypsy Blood: The Roma, Ashkali, and Egyptian IDP's of Mitrovica, Kosovo. Video. Daniel Lanctot, YouTube. 2005. Web. April 10, 2016.
  11. 1 2 Post, Dianne. Victims of Kosovo Poisoning Bring Lawsuit at European Court of Human Rights. European Roma Rights Centre. February 20, 2006. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  12. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 Abdikeeva, Alphia. "Germany's Policies Toward Sinti and Roma: Living apartheid?" European Roma Rights Centre. European Roma Rights Centre, May 7, 2002. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  13. ↑ Popp, Maximilian. Sinti, Roma and Racism: Report Blasts Berlin's Inaction. Spiegel Online International, December 12, 2012. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  14. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Abdikeeva, Alphia; Kawczyński, Rudolf; Heuss, Herbert. "The Situation of Roma in Germany," p. 141–224. Ed. EU Accession Monitoring Program of the Open Society Institute. Open Society Institute. November 25, 2002. Web. April 10, 2016.
  15. 1 2 3 4 Peuker, Mario; Bochmann, Annett; and Heidmann, Rachel. Germany RAXEN National Focal Point Thematic Study Housing Conditions of Sinti and Roma. European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2009. p. 1–79. Web. April 10, 2016.
  16. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ERRC. Joint EU Monitoring and Advocacy Program / European Roma Rights Center Shadow Report. Provided to the Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women Commenting on the fifth periodic report of the Federal Republic of Germany Submitted under Article 18 of the United Nations Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women. European Roma Rights Centre; EU Monitoring and Advocacy Program; Open Society Institute. 2004. Web. April 10, 2016. p. 30
  17. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Laurian, Lucie. "Environmental Injustice in France." Journal of Environmental Planning and Management, 51:1, 55–79. 2008. Routledge, Taylor & Francis. Web. April 10, 2016.
  18. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Lebel, Carolyn. "Revealed: scandal of Roma people forced to scavenge toxic e-waste". Ecologist. October 12, 2010. n.pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  19. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Queiroz, Mario. "EU: Conditions Faced by Roma People—from Bad to Worse." Inter Press Service News Agency. November 22, 2011. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  20. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 Amnesty International. Double Standards: Italy's Housing Policies Discriminate Against Roma. Amnesty International, 2013. p.1–60. Web. April 10, 2016.
  21. ↑ "Triboniano, Lomb. Italy" Map. Bing Maps. Bing 2016. Web. April 10, 2016.
  22. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 Mayr, Walter. "The Mafia's Deadly Garbage: Italy's Growing Toxic Waste Scandal". Spiegel Online International. January 16, 2014. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  23. 1 2 3 4 5 Simándi, Szelim. "Moving Roma away from a toxic waste dump mustn't result in further segregation—NGO's protest." European Roma Rights Centre. February 10, 2016. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  24. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Leombruno, Mario; Romano, Luca. "Terrapromessa – Promised Land." Video. Story Tellers. Culture Unplugged.com. 2014. Web. April 10, 2016.
  25. 1 2 3 4 5 6 Associazione 21 luglio. "In Giugliano, a new Roma ghetto." Associazione 21 luglio. March 8, 2016. n. pag. Web. April 10, 2016.
  26. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 Briggs, Chad M. "Science, local knowledge, and exclusionary practices: Lessons from the Alta Dam case." Norsk Geografisk Tidsskrift – Norwegian Journal of Geography, 2006. 60:2, 149–160. Published online February 18, 2007. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. Web. April 10, 2016. doi:10.1080/00291950600723146
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