Covid-19 crisis stokes European tensions over migrant labour

The mountain slopes of Aragón, a Spanish region bordering France, are one corner of Europe where there is no ambivalence about migrant farm workers. The humans want them and the sheep want them.

“We’re trying to make sure these people can get here soon because the weather is getting warmer and we need to get the wool off the animals or it’ll be awful,” said Pedro Barato, the president of Spain’s largest farming association, Asaja.

The lack of skilled sheep-shearers was acute, he said. “Normally, people come from South America – mainly Uruguay and Paraguay – to help.” The wider region needs about 30,000 workers but only 5,500 have been hired, he said.

Barato said his organisation’s members had always appreciated migrant labour. “We’ve never, ever seen it as a problem. It’s quite the opposite. We’re very grateful for it.”

In other parts of Europe, however, migrant farm workers are considered a problem and are greeted not with gratitude but resentment and suspicion.

From Ireland to Italy and Germany to Romania there is rising tension over whether such workers should cross borders to harvest crops, and if so how many and under what conditions.

They are needed to pick strawberries, oranges, melons, tomatoes and asparagus but the coronavirus pandemic has concocted a toxic brew.

Host countries are torn between fear of losing harvests, fear of importing infection and a fear that predates the pandemic – that of foreigners taking jobs. Populists sense opportunity as the economic fallout solidifies political battle lines.

The fear is two-way. Migrants fear exploitation and inadequate safeguards against Covid-19 that could cause them to become infected and bring the disease home, potentially undermining eastern Europe’s relative success in suppressing the virus.

“Romanian seasonal workers are not slaves. Human dignity and health are not negotiable,” said Victor Negrescu, a Romanian MEP who together with colleagues submitted a letter to the European ombudsman requesting protection of seasonal workers.

The request followed a spate of incidents across the continent. There was a furore when 1,800 workers from the Romanian city of Cluj were shown in close physical contact while being bussed to and boarding a plane – one of the near-daily flights from Cluj to Germany.

Germany has in recent weeks received 30,000 seasonal workers from eastern Europe and expects another 30,000 by the end of May, most coming for asparagus and strawberry harvests.

In theory strict guidelines govern migrant workers’ journeys and living and working conditions. But reality is proving messy.

An asparagus farmer in Lower Saxony was accused of breaking physical distancing rules when he transported workers and put more people than allowed into prefabricated housing.

A picker who died in Bad Krozingen on 11 April was infected with coronavirus, though the cause of death remains unclear. Four other pickers in his team were also infected and placed in isolation. On 28 April Romanian authorities announced that at least 200 Romanians working in an abattoir in Germany had been infected.

The stakes are particularly high in Italy, where crops risk rotting in the fields and a political battle is escalating.

The sector relies on hundreds of thousands of migrants, most sub-Saharan Africans without proper work permits. Many live in squalid shacks cobbled from wood and plastic that bake in summer and freeze in winter.

“Because of the lockdown they stopped going to work for fear of being questioned by the police,” said Tonino Russo, the secretary general of the CGIL labour union in Sicily. “Without these people, agriculture in Italy is on its knees.”

The government last week proposed regularising the status of such workers but that alarmed the anti-establishment Five Star Movement (M5S), which is part of the ruling coalition. It fears losing ground to Matteo Salvini of the anti-migrant opposition party the League.

Salvini has threatened to take to the streets to resist what he calls a “pro-migrant amnesty” that would be “devastating and crime-producing”. Pope Francis, in contrast, has backed the measure and urged better pay and conditions for migrant workers.

Ireland has long prided itself on welcoming foreign workers but a row last month exposed tensions.

Leo Varadkar, the taoiseach, criticised Keelings, a Dublin fruit company, for flying in 189 Bulgarians to pick strawberries. He expressed “discomfort” and called for a review of rules to protect Ireland’s lockdown. He did not mention that just weeks earlier he had joined EU leaders in requesting continued cross-border travel rights for agricultural workers.

“It felt a bit populist of Leo not to ackowelege that,” said Pippa Woolnough, of the Immigrant Council of Ireland. She voiced concern that the public backlash against Keelings reflected scapegoating of immigrants that is new to Ireland – and may worsen as the economic crisis bites.

John Greene, a strawberry farmer in County Wexford, said there was an online “angry mob” ready to pounce. “You have to be so careful. You can be brought down by false rumour. Last weekend social media was saying we have a busload of pickers travelling through Enniscorthy every morning packed like sardines. It’s absolutely untrue: we don’t have pickers or a bus.”

Greene has held off bringing in his usual crew of east European pickers in hope that locals will do the job. However few suitable candidates have applied. “It’s all up in the air.”

Dermot Callaghan, of the agri-food agency Teagasc, said foreign workers were necessary. “They have experience that you can’t replace in one season. It’ll be a blend of experienced workers augmented with selected local staff.”