Many people in Europe’s south-east see more hope in leaving than staying

Only a few years ago, politicians in the European Union, and in the poor and war-ravaged countries in the continent’s south-east, felt that between them they were creating a virtuous circle. With EU help, poor Balkan lands would improve their governance and streamline their economies; in due course they would be rewarded with EU entry. Thanks to all that, people in poor places would have less reason to move to Europe’s rich north; in various ways, the EU was coming to them.

Now that virtuous circle, if it ever really existed, is badly frayed. People from the Balkans are once again heading north, legally or otherwise, because they have given up waiting for the situation in their own countries to improve.

The problem feels especially acute in Kosovo, the territory for which NATO went to war in 1999. With unemployment high, and political life deeply corrupt, people of all classes dream of escape. But Kosovo is the only place between Portugal and Ukraine where a visa is still needed for travel into the Schengen zone, the hard core of the EU.

Recently, says Lulzim Peci, who runs KIPRED, a think-tank in Pristina, there has been a new spike of pessimism about life in Kosovo improving in any way. That must be one reason for the surge in illegal migration into Schengenland. Until the door was closed in February, lots of Kosovars took advantage of what was, for almost two months, an oddly unguarded border between Serbia and Hungary and then headed north and west.

Shpend Ahmeti, the mayor of Pristina, reckons 40,000 people took part in that dash for Europe’s wealthier parts; others think it was more. Many of those who reached such destinations as Germany, Austria or Sweden immediately applied for asylum. Virtually none will get it, given that the Balkans is no longer a zone of war or oppression, and people are already being sent back. But they clearly thought it was worth a try.

It would be too simple to say that these migrants were fleeing dire poverty. In general, they were neither the poorest in the country, nor were they all unemployed. They went, says Mr Peci, because “they surrendered” to gloom. The people who left included taxi drivers, car mechanics, cleaners and shop workers. Many of them were trying to support families on €250 ($265) a month. That might have been tolerable so long as better days seemed around the corner, but such illusions have largely evaporated.

Recent political events have reinforced such pessimism, says Mr Peci. After last summer’s general election, many hoped an opposition coalition would take power. Then a deal was done in December between the leading party of the old government and the biggest opposition group. Many concluded that there would be no change for another four years.

Migration from Kosovo attracts publicity because it is often illegal. But Kosovars are not alone in longing to escape an apparently intractable mixture of nepotism, crippling taxes and barriers to enterprise. In the words of a Serbian banker who now lives in London, more and more people in the Balkans are saying, “this region does not offer a future for my children.”

Nor do people any longer cherish the hope that EU membership, if it eventually comes, will transform life in their countries. Croatia joined the EU in 2013 but that has failed to lift the economic doldrums that have afflicted the country for five years and prompted well-qualified people, such as doctors and nurses, to leave.

In 2009-10, people from five countries—Albania, Serbia, Bosnia, Macedonia and Montenegro—won the right to enter the EU without a visa. But that doesn’t mean they are entitled to settle, work or claim benefits. For the desperate, other strategies come in handy, such as opportunistic requests for asylum.

According to the European Stability Initiative, a think-tank, the number of asylum bids received in the EU from these five countries soared last year to 70,000, compared with an average of 10,000 before visas ended. And in contrast with the Kosovar surge, many of these applications seem to have come from the poorest levels of society, including the Roma minority.

Slow processing by a clogged-up system creates opportunities as well as problems. Even though they are almost sure to be turned down, applicants can at least claim some social security and even housing benefits during the months they have to wait, and that makes the application worthwhile. Whenever the procedure is accelerated, applications dry up.

In the long run, the only thing that will reduce the outflow from the Balkans is a better life back home. It is a mildly encouraging sign that more people are demanding change, where necessary in ways that bypass formal politics. In Serbia lawyers went on strike for four months last year and teachers have been striking recently. Judges are on strike in Kosovo. Last year protests flared across Bosnia. None of this will bring quick change. But people who still hope for a better Balkans take heart from the fact that some people want to stay and fight, rather than flee.

From “The Economist” print edition: Europe